#i have so many oneshot ideas and so little energy. girl. help

[mamawasatesttube]

you already know what time it is!

[guiltyasdave]

only bought this dress so you could take it off

series masterlist • this is part I

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

a/n: I was on my summer vacation last week, and I’m suffering from severe Dave York brainrot lately, which inspired a vivid daydream of Dave taking me on a little trip and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I was planning to keep it a oneshot, but there are so many more ideas for this floating around in my head, so a part 2 miiight be happening. Please read the warnings, this one’s nasty! (it’s the murder daddy energy)

word count: ~10.4k (this was supposed to be a nice little pwp, idk what happened) (Dave was holding me at gun-point)

summary: You have been sleeping with Dave York for a few months, keeping things casual, when he suggests to go on vacation together. You’re not sure what to expect, but you agree, and Dave takes very good care of you.

warnings: bits of angst, dubious morality (Dave is cheating on his wife), kinda unhealthy relationship dynamics, age-gap implied, alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, Dave pulls her hair, dom!Dave, sub!reader, rough sex, semi-public touching, sir kink, degradation kink, rough oral sex (m receiving), unprotected piv (reader is on bc in my head, but it’s not mentioned in the fic), dirty talk, Dave is a menace, spanking, choking, edging, spit kink, restraints, idiots in love, let me know if I missed any!

this is explicit 18+ content, minors do not interact pleaseeeee

Your phone starts buzzing on your work desk around 8 AM. You just got into the office and are starring at your monitor blankly, nursing a to-go cup of too expensive coffee and questioning your life choices. A regular Tuesday really.

You groan and flick your eyes down to your phone, your mind way too exhausted to deal with whoever is trying to contact you right now. You read the name on the screen and do a double take, your tiredness immediately forgotten. You hastily grab the device and press the green button to accept the call.

“Hey,” you say, trying your best not to sound just as eager as you suddenly feel. He doesn’t need to know the effect a simple call from him has on you.

“Good morning, sweetheart. What took you so long to answer, huh?” his voice sounds in your ear, calm and composed as always, but with a hint of teasing. You bite your lip, thankful that he can’t see how just hearing him speak has a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“S-sorry, just work and everything, you know?”

You can’t help the little sigh that you let out -work really has been a nightmare lately- and he chuckles sympathetically.

“You poor thing. Speaking of work, I actually have a favor to ask you.”

He knows fully well that he doesn’t need to ask you favors - you’d give him everything he wants, without question. His usual demanding tone is lacing his words and you involuntary clench your thighs together. God, you’re down so bad for this man.

This, as you need to keep reminding yourself, married man, who lives the perfect suburban life with his wife and their two kids. He’s not in love with you, you’re well aware of that, and you’re trying your hardest not to fall in love with him either.

You don’t know what exactly is going on between him and his wife and you don’t pry. He’s told you that things between them aren’t working out anymore and that they’ve agreed to stay together and play happy family until their girls are older. You’re not dumb, you know that this is the kind of story that every cheating man tells the other woman. And you’d probably call him out on his bullshit, if he were any other man. Hell, you wouldn’t have gotten involved with any other married man in the first place.

But Dave isn’t just any man and he’s got you wrapped around his finger ever since you met in a hotel bar a few months ago. You had just been stood up at said bar and Dave had been on a business trip, spending the night there. He came up to you, looking more handsome than any man should have the right to, bought you a drink and had you following him up to his room in the blink of an eye, which led to sex that was easily the best you had ever had.

Now, Dave calls you regularly, mostly when he’s close enough to meet up, but also some nights when he whispers filthy things into your ear until you come on your own fingers because he is too far away to put his hands on you.

You like to think that he cares about you, that you’re not just the willing means to an end and that you can actually give him something that he can’t get anywhere else. Something soft, a person that cares for him and gives him the chance to be soft as well. Because they exist, those moments of softness, in between tangled sheets and laughs shared in the darkness of your room, his fingers mindlessly dancing over your body when he thinks you’re already asleep and his lips pressed against yours a little too urgently when he’s saying goodbye to you.

But most of the time, Dave doesn’t like to care. He also doesn’t like to be soft. He’s ruthless, his edges sharp like a knife and he likes coming at you hard. He doesn’t tell you exactly what he does for a living, but you suspect that it’s dangerous and violent. He needs an outlet, somewhere he can let his aggressions run free, someone he can control.

This, you can definitely give him. You let him take it out on you when things get too much, you give up all control to him, and you love it. And he knows that you do. Sometimes you wonder if that’s the only reason he’s keeping you around, but you can’t bring yourself to believe it.

So, when your phone lights up with his name, you answer, trying to conceal your desperation to hear his voice, the hold he has on you, even if you’re fighting a losing battle. And when he’s asking for a favor, you hum questioningly, even though you already know that your answer will be “yes”.

“Take the next week off, and pack a bag. I’m having a few free days, so we’re going away for a bit, I’m picking you up on Saturday.”

He’s basically giving you an order, not stopping to ask if you’ve already got plans, if this might be a bad time, anything. Do this, be there, stat. Because he knows that you will do as he says and you know it, too.

Excitement bubbles up in you, the prospect of spending a whole week with Dave, something of a vacation, from what it sounds like, is more than you had ever allowed yourself to even daydream about. This is not what your relationship is about, it’s not what you do. Except that… apparently it is?

“I- okay, yes. That- that sounds great, Dave.” Your delight at his proposal is clear in your voice. “Where are we going? What do I need to pack? Do I need to prepare anything?”

He chuckles again and you can picture him shaking his head.

“No doll, don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Just bring your passport and pack for warm weather. And, sweetheart?” His voice drops an octave and he’s basically purring in your ear. “The sluttier, the better.”

He hangs up without waiting for your answer. You’re left to spend the rest of your workday in a daze, your panties soaked and your head busy with already cataloguing your entire closet and which things you’ll pack.

The days pass you by in weird chunks of time. On one hand, you can’t wait for Saturday, while on the other hand, you feel terribly unprepared, causing anxiety to creep up on you several times throughout the week. Every vacation you’ve ever been on has been meticulously organized and planned out by yourself and the lack of knowledge that you’re dealing with right now is entirely foreign to you.

What if you need a certain vaccine for wherever you’re going and you don’t have it? What if the flight has an early check-in that you need to take care of? Has Dave booked a hotel? How are the reviews? What do you need to prepare for?

The nervous urge to be ready for every kind of situation that you can’t satisfy right now is threatening to drive you crazy and you need to remind yourself more than once that this is Dave that you’re dealing with. Not one of your ex-boyfriends that would’ve come up with some half-assed plan that lacked in several vital points and required you to take care of things yourself eventually.

Dave is even more thorough than you, he doesn’t leave anything up to chance and he doesn’t forget things. You’re still reeling from the mere fact that he’s planning to take you away for a whole week. You’ve never spent that much uninterrupted time together and you honestly hadn’t thought that he would want to. This is couple stuff. And you’re not a couple. You’re just someone he sleeps with occasionally. You need to remember at least that.

You have texted him a few times, trying to get more information about the trip, but he hasn’t budged. You only manage to find out that he’ll come pick you up Saturday morning and that you’ll be gone for a whole week. And that you should pack a lot of bikinis.

“You make sure you’ll look good for me, and I’ll take care of the rest,” his text read. Followed up by a stern, “Stop worrying.”

You try taking his words to heart and get prepared in the one way you can: Buying lots of skimpy dresses and bikinis. You vividly picture him taking them off of you and it works. You do stop worrying.

Saturday finally rolls around and you’re ready, suitcase fully packed and dressed in a skirt so short that it will probably have you freezing your ass off on the airplane, but you can hardly bring yourself to care.

His taxi finally pulls up to your apartment building and he jumps out to meet you while the driver loads in your suitcase. You can’t help the giddy smile that’s on your face when Dave’s arms envelop you and your lips are on his before he even gets a greeting out. He chuckles as he kisses you softly, one of his hands cupping the back of your head, before he pulls away slightly to look at you. You’re breathless; the sight of him in his crisp shirt, the top two buttons undone to show off a sliver of his broad chest, his sharp jawline and those brown eyes trained firmly on you already enough to drive you a little crazy with need for him.

“Miss me that much, huh?” he murmurs against your lips, one hand still in your hair while the other one trails down to the hem of your skirt and skims the backside of your thighs before he gives your ass a rough squeeze. You nod quickly as a breath leaves you, not quite a moan but enough to clearly show him the effect his touch immediately has on you.

“Desperate little thing,” he grins and adds a playful slap to your backside before pecking your lips again and leading you towards the waiting car.

He slips in beside you, his hand immediately finding your thigh again and gently rubbing against the bare skin, creeping below your skirt’s hem again and again as you take off in the direction of the airport.

You’re falling into your familiar routine with him, the first effects of seeing him and the flare of your chemistry with each other calming down a little and allowing you to actually talk with him like a normal person, not a lovesick teenager. You’re filling each other in on the few weeks since you last saw each other, the little occurrences that you wanted to tell him about but didn’t have the opportunity to at the time. He’s not much of a texter and you understand that; he’s busy with his job and his family whose existence you still need to keep reminding yourself of.

His large hand doesn’t leave your thigh once throughout the drive, keeping a hold on you that feels especially possessive whenever his grip tightens. At the airport he grabs both of your suitcases and purposefully strides off, leaving you to walk beside him with nothing but your little purse. It’s not a grand gesture by any means, but still, no one has ever taken care of things for you like this and your want for him is bubbling inside of you.

He drops your baggage off at check-in and hands you your boarding pass. You can’t help the squeal that you let out when your eyes find the destination and you excitedly throw your arms around him.

“Are you serious? How did you know that I always wanted- But Dave, that’s SO much, I can’t have you pay for all this, I-“

He shushes you gently, though you can tell that he’s clearly pleased with how happy you are about where you’re going. He presses a kiss to the crown of your hand and rubs his hands over your shoulders.

“Of course you can. I wanted to do something nice for you, sweetheart, you’ve been so stressed out lately. And I-,” he trails off, looking almost a little bashful, “I wanted to spend my time off with you, without interruptions, you know.”

You think that he wants to add more, but he doesn’t, his expression slightly regretful like he accidentally said too much already. He barely verbalizes his feelings and you don’t push it.

“Thank you Dave, it’s- thank you. I really appreciate it.”

You lean up on your tiptoes and kiss him softly, trying to convey what you feel but can’t put into words. How you’re not even there yet and it’s already more than anyone has ever done for you. How ‘I wanted to spend my time off with you’ has butterflies erupting in your stomach, no matter how hard you try to suppress them. How it has you wondering if maybe, just maybe, you might be more for him than just the girl that he’s fucking on the side because his marriage is shitty. How much you wish that you were.

But you don’t have time to ponder all this because he possessively wraps an arm around your shoulder and leads you off towards security control, then to the gate where he gets you your favorite Starbucks without even asking for your order, and onto the plane, where he lets you have the window seat and his hand finds its way back onto your thigh.

You brought a book to read on the flight but you can’t make it through one page without losing your focus. Dave’s hand keeps climbing higher and higher, alternating between gripping your inner thigh tightly and drawing featherlight circles on the soft skin, and the heat that had been smoldering within you since you first laid eyes on him today is slowly but steadily becoming too much to bear.

Dave seems annoyingly unaffected, his face as composed as ever as he asks questions about your book, and you know that he notices the way you’re squirming in your seat, and how much he’s enjoying the fact that he’s the one to make you act like this.

You’re in the middle of a sentence when his fingers suddenly move all the way up your thigh and brush lightly against the fabric of your underwear. It’s a barely-there touch, but you’re so wound up that it’s enough to cause you to interrupt yourself with a loud gasp. He retracts his hand the tiniest bit, still hovering between your thighs, and tuts at you.

There’s a dark glint in his eyes that hasn’t been there moments before. You know this look and it takes everything in you to not clench your thighs together in anticipation of what’s to come. He raises an eyebrow, the condescension written clear on his face and his voice a low rumble, quiet enough for only you to hear.

“Shhh, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want everyone on here to know how much of a slut you are for me, now would we? Huh?”

He pinches the soft flesh on your inner thigh roughly when you don’t answer fast enough and you bite your lip, suppressing the whine that is threatening to come out of you.

“N-no…” you whisper and Dave arches his eyebrow even higher, looking at you expectantly. You gulp.

“No, sir.”

A small smile plays around his lips and he places a kiss on your cheek. “Good girl,” he mutters and his hand creeps up again until he’s rubbing against your panties, which you know are absolutely soaked by now. Your hips chase his touch and he chuckles darkly as he withdraws his fingers, completely this time, until he’s holding them up to your face. You can tell that the fingertips are shiny with the arousal that leaked through the fabric and you feel yourself blushing.

“Lick it off,” he demands, and your eyes widen.

“H-here?” you dare to ask. His gaze hardens.

“You wanna talk back to me?” His voice is calm, but you can sense the tension that’s rolling off of him. You should be disgusted, both by his request and the way that he’s talking to you, but you’re not. This is how you want him, how you crave him.

You shake your head hastily, acutely aware that questioning him was probably enough to get you into serious trouble later on. The thought sends another wave of desperate arousal through you.

“Then lick. It. Off. I’m not gonna tell you again.”

His tone is clipped, his face a hard mask, but your eyes flick down momentarily and the growing bulge in his pants tells you that he’s not as unaffected by the situation as he wants you to believe. You train your eyes back to his face and hold his gaze as you lean forward and obediently clean his fingers with tiny kitten licks. His jaw tenses as he finally draws his fingers back from your tongue and runs them across your cheek, smearing the traces of your spit there.

A small whine slips out of your throat as you feel fresh wetness flooding your panties and he grins before he kisses you again, murmuring a “Good girl” against your lips. He leans back into his seat, his hand finding an almost innocent position close to your knee.

“Why don’t you read a little more, sweetheart? We’ll be there soon.”

He flashes you a smile that could pass as genuine but you catch the glint in his eyes as he clocks your dazed expression and your slightly parted lips. You nod dumbly and pick the book back up, but not a single word that you read actively registers in your mind.

You try catching glances at Dave, until by the fourth time, he pinches your chin between his fingers and turns your head back forward. “I said, read,” he murmurs into your ear. You know he gets off on this stuff, giving you stupid little orders. And on the fact that you let him. That you get off on it, too.

Your arrival happens in a blur. Dave leads you off the plane and through the smallest airport you’ve ever been to. Your brain is still a bit muddled from the unsatisfied arousal he’s ignited in you and now you’re excitedly turning your head left and right, trying to get in as many impressions as you possibly can. You’re not paying close attention to what’s happening and you’re thankful for the way Dave is taking charge without question. You’re happy to link you fingers through his and let him lead you wherever you need to go.

He retrieves your luggage, walks you out of the airport and to a waiting car. You spend the drive staring out of the window, your eyes wide, taking in all the beauty around you. It’s like you’ve arrived in literal paradise. You tell Dave as much and he chuckles, lifting your hand up to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss against your knuckles. The unexpectedly sweet gesture has you blushing and a soft smile plays around his lips.

The hotel is, quite frankly, insane. If you had been worried about the amount of money that he’s spent on this trip before, it pales in comparison to how you’re feeling now. The building is nestled against the foot of a mountain, lush green trees surrounding the front and the road leading up to the entrance, while it opens up to a small, private bay where turquoise waves calmly roll up against the whitest sand you’ve ever seen.

There’s glass walls everywhere, giving you an almost 360° view as you step into the lobby. You know that you’re gaping and Dave actually laughs at your expression as he walks you up to the reception desk to check in. You’re not listening closely, too busy taking in your surroundings and convincing yourself that this is your real life and not some extremely realistic daydream that you’re having while sitting at your work desk.

Dave finishes up and wraps an arm around your shoulders to lead you to the elevators, stepping inside and pressing the top button. The doors slide closed and you can barely think about the fact that you’re apparently staying on the top floor before you’re being whirled around and end up with your front pressed against the elevator wall with Dave’s hands roughly shoving up your skirt until your ass is exposed to him.

Your surprised giggle morphs into a moan as his hand comes down hard to slap it, before gripping the flesh so roughly that it borders on painful. He presses his body up against yours and captures your lips in a sloppy kiss as his other hand slides up to cup your breasts over your tank top.

“Dave- we can’t-,” you gasp just as the elevator comes to a halt and dings. He growls and flicks your skirt back down, but keeps you pressed against his side as the doors slide open again. Thankfully there’s no other people around on this floor to witness your surely utterly disheveled state.

The dark glint is back in his eyes as he drags you along to your room number. He stops in front of the door and turns you towards him, his eyes trained on your face as he stares you down. His voice is low, his tone calm and controlled, but somehow it’s more threatening than if he shouted at you.

“You think you get to tell me what we can and can’t do? You think that’s for you to decide?” His hand grabs your face, his fingers digging into your cheeks, and you whimper.

“N-no sir, I’m sorry, I just thought-“ He slaps your cheek, not hard enough for it to hurt, but enough to shut you up. Enough to remind you of your place in this dynamic. Your eyes flicker around hastily, your mind acutely aware of the fact that you’re in a public setting and that someone could walk in on this at any time. His hold returns your face, forcing you to look at him again.

“You don’t think, sweetheart. I decide and you listen, isn’t that right? If I want you to show off that slutty little ass of yours for everyone to see, then that’s what you’ll do.”

You nod to your best ability with his hand still grasping your face, mumbling another, “I’m sorry, sir.” You can barely think, the heat between your thighs almost making your legs buckle at this point. His thumb moves to play with your bottom lip and a cruel smirk grows on his face.

“You will be, doll. This is the third time you’ve disrespected me today. Looks like you’re in for a rough night, huh?”

“Yes, sir.” You can’t help the way you subconsciously bite your lip and you know that your desire is written all over your face, your pupils probably blown wide and your cheeks hot.

“Christ,” he chuckles and seals your lips with another kiss, “you’re a fucked up little thing.” You can only nod, prompting another laugh from him.

He steps up beside you and digs a keycard out of his pocket, holding it up against the door that responds with an affirmative beeping sound and a lock clicking. He pushes the handle down and swings the door open, holding it for you, a hand on the small of your back as you tentatively take a few steps inside.

The gasp you let out now isn’t fueled by your arousal, which is momentarily forgotten, but by your utter inability to believe what you’re seeing. You’re standing in a small hallway which opens up into a gigantic living room that’s probably bigger than your entire apartment and completely lined with glass walls, revealing a balcony and the shimmering sea several floors below you. You slowly walk to the adjoining bedroom that houses the easily biggest bed you’ve ever seen and a continuation of the glass walls. From what you can see, the en-suite bathroom features a lot of white marble.

You turn back to Dave, who has followed you silently and seems to expectantly take in your every reaction. “You’re crazy,” you tell him and he grins as you struggle for words. “This is- it’s so expensive, it’s- it’s too much, really. You’re crazy,” you repeat and he walks up to you to take your hands. His thumbs rub little circles over the skin and he smiles softly.

“As I said, I wanted to do something nice for you. You deserve it, sweetheart, you do.”

“But- but it’s-,” you trail off, mortified to realize that your bottom lip is trembling and your eyes are getting wet. You’re not going to cry in front of Dave, not because of a stupid hotel room. More like a fucking suite, your brain unhelpfully provides and your lip trembles harder. Dave quickly wraps his arms around your shoulders, his eyes searching your face.

“But it’s what?” he implores, his features displaying a look of such genuine concern that you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen on him before. “Sweetheart, do you not like it?”

You shake your head, trying to think of some way to explain that doesn’t make you seem totally pathetic. “It’s-,” you draw a deep breath, “it’s just- this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Like, ever. I just can’t believe you would- for me…” You trail off, not sure how to explain that you can’t grasp why he would be willing to spend this amount of money on you. “What I mean to say is, it’s beautiful. Just- thank you. Really, thank you.”

You smile at him and the relief is incredibly evident on his face before he pulls you into a hug, his arms engulfing you, one hand stroking you head softly. For once, his hands don’t wander down your body, he just holds you tight and you allow yourself to think that you could get used to this.

You feel awkward after your little breakdown, but Dave doesn’t mention it again. He lets you traipse around the suite to explore and unpack and follows you when you step out onto the balcony where you inhale deeply, enjoying the salty air and the view down to the bay. You think that it might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your life and you flash a beaming smile at him.

“You like it?” he checks again and you nod eagerly. “Good,” he mumbles and steps up behind where you’re leaning against the railing, one of his arms finding its way around your middle and his head resting on your shoulder. “That’s good.”

You stay like that a little while, taking in the scenery in front of you in peaceful silence, listening to the sound of the waves that roll against the shore and watching as the sun is sinking lower, a soft golden light spreading out across the sky and reflecting in the water.

Eventually, one of his hands slowly starts gliding up your torso. He cups your breast and his fingers graze your quickly pebbling nipple. You moan quietly and instinctually push your hips back against his crotch and the growing hardness there, which causes him to chuckle as he bends down to run his lips over your neck, leaving small kisses and bites on the sensitive flesh.

You’ve been riled up and let back down so many times today that you feel a bit crazed at this point, the need for him between your legs downright painful as you grind your hips against him and another desperate moan escapes you. “Dave, please… I need you.” Your head falls back against his chest and his other arm loops around your middle, pressing you against him as he tuts softly.

“So needy that you’re forgetting all your manners, huh?”

He pinches your nipple, hard, before his hand sneaks higher and loosely wraps around your throat. The anticipation of what is -hopefully- finally about to happen has you feeling lightheaded. You don’t care that you’re outside, that anyone could look up and easily spot you on the balcony, you would let him fuck you right there, as long as he just finally fucks you at all. You haven’t given him an answer and the hold around you throat tightens. Not enough for any real pressure, but enough to remind you of the power he holds over you.

“Please, sir,” you whine and he chuckles again.

“Not yet, doll,” he whispers into your ear and his hand leaves your throat, then he turns you around until you’re face to face. You can see that he wants you too, it’s written on his features clear as day, and you can barely fathom his level of self-restraint right now. You open your mouth, ready to beg again, ready to beg for anything to relieve the throbbing pain between your thighs, but he shakes his head curtly and even in your lust-filled haze, you know better than to keep going and shut your mouth again.

He grins at your obedience and gives your lips a quick kiss. “Good girl. You’ll get everything you want soon enough, don’t worry. Just gotta be patient a little more, okay?” You nod, and dazedly let him take your hand and lead you back into the bedroom. “But first, we’re gonna have a nice dinner. Think you’re gonna need the energy, doll.” His grin turns downright feral and a small shudder runs through you. “Show me what pretty things you packed, yeah?”

You hum your agreement and turn to rummage through the closet, pick out a dress and fresh underwear and wander off into the bathroom. You half-expect him to stop you and make you change in front of him, but he doesn’t say a word. Maybe seeing you naked would be even too much for his restraint right now.

You change into the dress; it’s one of the new ones that you bought only last week while daydreaming about how Dave would take it off of you. It’s a short silk dress, dark red and with an open back that basically only consists of a several straps that form a loose pattern over your skin, which is why you forego a bra and only pull on a black thong, a lacy, barely there scrap of fabric. You also redo your makeup, adding a lipstick in a shade that matches the dress and freshen up your hair, then step out into the bedroom again.

Dave is still wearing the black slacks that he wore all day, but seems to have changed into a new, creamy white dress shirt, while you were busy in the bathroom. The top three buttons are open, which is one more than usual, exposing more of his broad chest than you’re used to and you know that you’re wearing an expression of awe on your face. He’s so beautiful. He always is, he’s stupidly attractive, really, but it’s hitting you especially hard right now, in these new surroundings and with the prospect of having him all to yourself for one whole week.

He’s eyeing you as well, his gaze roaming hungrily over your body. You become acutely aware of just how short the dress is, how much of your naked skin is on display. You like your body, and you’re not ashamed of showing it off, but this place is fancy. You know you look good, but suddenly, you feel a bit awkward. “Is- is this okay? Because, I-,” you stammer a little, “I didn’t expect this kind of hotel and you said- you said you wanted slutty, so…” You trail off, biting you lip nervously.

Dave’s gaze softens. It’s giving you whiplash, how quickly he switches between the domineering, controlled, sexually charged persona that he’s displaying around you most of the time, and this sweeter, caring side. The side that wants to do something nice for you. He takes a step towards you.

“Turn around for me, sweetheart.”

You do, giving him a little twirl before turning back around and meeting his gaze. He looks… you don’t know how to describe it. The hunger for you that you’re familiar with is there, but it’s also something else, something… more. “You look perfect,” he assures you and you can’t help but believe him. Then he continues, “take off your underwear.” You blink at him and he cocks an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t want any panty lines when you’re looking so gorgeous with that pretty dress.”

You know fully well that the tiny thong that you’re wearing isn’t leaving any panty lines, but you also know better than to argue. The thought of having nothing to protect your modesty under the very short hem of your dress makes you feel exposed, a little uneasy, which is probably exactly what he wants. Always testing your limits, always looking to see how far he can push you, how far you’d go to please him.

You slide your thong off and make to toss it in the direction of your suitcase, but he clicks his tongue and holds his hand out towards you. You put it into his waiting hand and he stuffs it into the pocket of his pants. You suppose that he’s planning something and that you’ll get to know about it when he wants you to, which isn’t now, so you keep your mouth shut and step closer to him. “Dinner?” you ask softly and lean on your tiptoes to kiss him. He returns the kiss, his tongue entering your mouth swiftly, giving you a taste of how much he wants you, before he pulls back and grabs your hand instead, leading you out of the suite and back to the elevator.

It’s just the two of you when you get on, but two floors down, you’re being joined by an elderly couple who you greet politely. As soon as their backs are turned to you, Dave’s hand is under your dress, running a finger through your slick folds. You manage to swallow your surprised gasp, but flinch slightly, and you see him smirk out of the corner of your eye. He slides his finger up and down your slit, brushing your already oversensitive clit a few times, and you bite down hard on your lip to keep the sounds inside that threaten to spill out of you.

When the elevator finally stops, he withdraws his hand and waits until the couple is a few steps away from you, until he leans down to whisper in your ear, “Good girl, learned your lesson I see. Now, what do you say?”

“Thank you, sir,” you breathe, your legs a bit wobbly and your arousal already leaking out of you.

“That’s right.” He pats your ass in a sort of condescending appreciation and you follow him into the dining area.

The hotel’s restaurant is located on the first floor, a beautiful, light-filled space that opens onto a big terrace which seems to float over the ocean and gives you a gorgeous view of the sunset’s colors that have become even more intense since you left your room. You’re being led to a small table for two and you gape at the view, causing Dave to laugh at you again, but it’s a warm laugh, that feels like he’s genuinely happy about how much you’re enjoying yourself.

You try reading through the menu, but you know maybe half of the things that are on there, much less how anything tastes or what you would prefer. You shoot Dave a sort of helpless look and he grins. “Want me to order for you?” he asks and you nod gratefully, trying not to feel embarrassed about how out of your depth you are. He orders something, along with a bottle of red wine, which you very much appreciate. You don’t know much about wine, but this one tastes really good. It turns out that he ordered some kind of fish for you, that you still have no idea how to pronounce right, but now you know that it’s freaking delicious. You tell Dave as much and he gives you another smile that seems much too soft and overwhelmingly right at the same time.

Dinner with him is much easier than you had anticipated. Apart from your excitement about the whole trip, you had been a little nervous about spending an entire week with him, having to make much more conversation than you usually do. It’s not that you never talk, but sooner or later, you end up naked with him whispering filth into your ear. You don’t go out on hour long dates, maybe a drink at a bar, but no big dinners and extensive talks. Until now.

Now you know that he’s a great listener, making you feel heard and understood, never once giving you the impression that you’re boring him. You also learn more about him, about his past, though he stays vague about his current job and the situation with his family. But it’s nice, being with him like this. Another thing that you could get used to, but that’s also another thought to shove into some far away corner of your mind. Be thankful for what it is, don’t become greedy for more, you tell yourself.

After two glasses of wine and a dessert that you could have died for, watching the sun set over the ocean until the night sky took over, you’re buzzing with happiness, but also excitement for the next part of the evening. The whole dinner was better than you could have imagined, but you have also been turned on for hours, with the man that you want right in front of you. When Dave finally stands up and pulls your chair out for you, you all but jump up and flit to his side. He chuckles and looks at your eager face. “Don’t get too excited, sweetheart. Tonight isn’t gonna be all that fun for you.”

The dark glint in his eyes is back and you’re subconsciously clenching your thighs together. The simple thought of what he might do to you is enough to push the arousal that has been simmering inside of you to the forefront of your mind again. You’re amazed how quickly he can sink back into that domineering character that could make you do almost anything with a simple snap of his fingers. He wasn’t like that at dinner, he didn’t once give you the impression that you’re below him or that he doesn’t respect you, separating this sexual dynamic that you’ve established from other parts of your interactions with clean precision.

He leads you out of the restaurant, his fingers grazing the bare skin on your back and you’re once again reminded that you’re completely bare beneath the skimpy dress that you’re wearing. His hand dips lower, playing with the hem that feels like it’s barely covering your ass. Goosebumps are forming on you lower back and your thighs and he chuckles darkly.

He keeps playing with your dress during the elevator ride, his fingers sliding underneath and grazing your ass repeatedly, until you’re fully riled up again. You’re a little nervous now. He promised to be rough several times today and you don’t doubt that he will. You’re excited as well, you want him rough, crave his control over you, but still…

He takes out the key card and opens the door as you follow him quietly, waiting for instructions. You can feel the tension rolling off of him. As soon as the door clicks shut, he’s on you, crowding you back against it, his hands grabbing your wrists and pulling them up above your head while he leans down to capture your waiting lips.

The kiss is messy, all teeth and tongues as he devours your mouth, towering over you and keeping your wrists fixed to the door while his whole body is pressing into yours. You arch into him, helplessly trying to get him closer as you moan into his mouth when he bites at your lower lip, keeping it in between his teeth as he pulls back a little before letting it go. You whine, the quick stab of pain transforming into pleasure and traveling straight to your pussy, which causes you to spread your legs wider and grind your hips against him.

He gathers both your wrists in his large hand, still pressing them against the wall above your head, and lets his other hand roam over your body, grabbing at your waist, bunching up the dress there. “Looked so good tonight, all dolled up in your pretty dress…” he murmurs with his lips now dragging against the soft skin of your neck, occasionally nipping and sucking at the skin, “and all this just for me, sweetheart?” He bites down right below your ear and your hips buck against him.

“Yes, yes sir, fuck…”

Your breath catches in your throat when he abruptly pulls the neckline down to expose your breasts and scratches his fingernails over your nipples. He pinches one hardened bud between his nails and pulls slightly before he lets go and watches how the flesh bounces back, then he repeats the motion on the other side. You’re gasping, tears are welling up in your eyes, it hurts, but it hurts so good, your pussy is completely soaked and you just want him to finally, finally fill you up.

Then he steps back, his jaw flickers as he watches you, still pressed against the door, panting softly and with a dazed expression on your face.

“Get on your knees.”

You get down immediately, hoping against hope that maybe he’ll let you come sooner when you’re being good now. He allows himself a cold smile at your eagerness and steps closer until you have to crane your neck to look up at him. He opens his belt and slacks in sure, controlled movements, the only evidence of his own need for you being the massive bulge that’s right in front of your face. He doesn’t waste time, shoving his pants and underwear down in one move and letting his cock spring free.

You gasp quietly, your mouth opening on its own accord at the sight of his massive length and you look up at him hungrily. “Open wide,” he tells you softly, almost gently and you obey, sticking your tongue out and watching mesmerized as he lets his tip rest on your tongue for a few moments. He pulls back slightly, smearing a mix of your saliva and his pre-cum across your cheeks, then slapping you with his cock, which causes you to moan. “Filthy little thing,” he murmurs and sinks into your wet mouth in one hard thrust.

You gag almost immediately, your throat contracting around him and he groans as he grabs your head and holds you still. Tears well up in your eyes and you already feel lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. He finally lets go and you desperately suck in a lungful of air before he starts thrusting into your mouth again, hitting the back of your throat every time and causing you to choke around him. The way he pushes you around, uses you for his own pleasure has a new rush of wetness flooding your pussy and you’re itching to touch your clit, just a little bit.

He notices how you’re squirming beneath him, how one of your hands is inching closer between your legs and he stops his thrusts, his cock still taking up most of your mouth, and looks down at your face.

“You wanna touch yourself? You like having your face fucked like a whore?”

You nod as best as you can and hum desperately, gazing up at him through your tear-soaked lashes. He furrows his brow, looking down at you with that wicked glint in his eye. “You know how to ask properly, I didn’t hear you sweetheart,” he tells you, sinking even deeper into your throat and you fight to suppress another gag. You hum again and look at him pleadingly; he’s well aware that you can’t ask him anything with his cock filling your throat like this. “Guess you don’t want to, then,” he shrugs, “hands behind your back. You’re not touching that pussy without my permission.” You whine, your clit throbbing painfully for attention, but you obediently cross your wrists at the small of your back.

“Poor thing,” he coos and pats your head in mock-sympathy, then moves his hand back to hold you in place as he pounds into your throat with renewed force. You gag around him, tears flowing all over your face and drool streaming down your chin and onto your tits. He sinks into you again and again, holding you up by your head and making you sputter around him, desperate to somehow draw air into your lungs. “Take it,” he growls, “take it like the little slut you are, down on the floor for me. That’s how you like it, don’t you?” He finally pulls out of you and slaps your cheek when you don’t respond immediately. “Don’t you?!”

“Y-yes sir,” you rasp, gasping for breath, tears and spit still all over your face.

He crouches down cups the cheek that he just slapped, his thumb rubbing at the tear-stained skin under your eye. You’re positive that you look a mess, mascara running down your cheeks and your dark lipstick smeared all around your mouth, mixing with your spit. Your hands are still behind your back, the arch in your body making you push your chest out and putting your tits on full display for him. He starts toying with your nipples again and you want to cry. An orgasm feels so close, yet so far away. You feel like you could come with just a few strokes on your clit, but you have no idea how much longer he will string you along until he finally deems it enough.

“You’ve been such a good girl, sweetheart. So patient all day, I bet you’re dripping all down those pretty legs right now, aren’t you? So desperate and ready for me, yeah?” His voice is a low growl in front of you and you whine your agreement. It’s not enough for him. “Say it. Tell me how desperate my little slut is to finally get fucked.”

You hesitate, your eyes dropping to the ground in front of you. “I-,” you gasp as he roughly grabs your chin and forces you to look at him, waiting for you to do as he said. “I need you to fuck me, so badly. I’ll be so good, I promise, just p-please, sir,” you whine, feeling pathetic, your voice trembling and your face burning. No matter how many depraved things he gets you to do with him, for him, talking like this still gets you embarrassed. Which is precisely why he makes you do it.

“And what are you?”

You feel your face heating up. “Your s-slut, sir.”

He grins as he adds another slap against your cheek. “Damn right you are.”

He straightens back up, tugs himself back into his pants and looks down at you. “Bedroom.” You scramble to get up, but he shakes his head and lands a hand on your shoulder, pushing you back down again. “No, no. You’re gonna crawl.” You sink back on your hands and knees, the amount of embarrassment and arousal that you’re feeling making you dizzy, and you look up at him shyly.

He nods approvingly and bends down to tug your dress up higher until your bare ass and pussy are on full display. “Good girl, right where you belong. Off you go, come on.” You bite your lip and start crawling towards the bedroom, his footsteps right behind you and you can feel his eyes drinking you in as another groan grumbles in his chest.

You stop in front of the bed and give him a questioning look. He gestures for you to stand up and you get back to your feet with trembling knees. He steps closer, his hands ghosting over your shoulders and toying with the straps of your dress.

“Such a pretty dress,” he murmurs as he slides them off your shoulders, the garment slipping down your body, leaving you bare except for the heels that you’ve been wearing all evening. You’re painfully aware of the power dynamic between you, how you’re completely naked and at his mercy while he’s still fully dressed. His hands roam over you, leaving goosebumps in their wake and come to rest at your hips. He squeezes the flesh there, then turns you around until you’re facing the bed.

One hand reaches up to your neck and he bends you over until your upper body is resting on the mattress, your back arching and your ass up in the air for him. He takes a step back and lands a slap on your backside without warning. You yelp, your body instinctively lurching forward and your legs shaking with the strain of keeping your balance in your heels. He notices, of course, and says, “You better keep those pretty legs steady, doll,” before reaching forward and massaging your stinging flesh. You hum, trying to get your muscles to cooperate, but your legs won’t stop trembling.

Dave’s touch leaves your body and he sits down on the bed beside your head, his eyes searching your face. “What’s your color, sweetheart?” he inquires, softly stroking your cheek.

“Green,” you answer without hesitation. It has already been a lot and you’re sure that he’s nowhere near finished with you, but you like it like this. You crave it. He nods, his touch still gentle on your face.

“And what do you say when you need me to stop?”

“Red,” you whisper, leaning into his touch.

“Good girl,” he murmurs and leans forward to press a kiss to your cheek, before he stands up again and disappears from your field of view.

“So,” his voice drawls from behind you, “I think I’ll give you twenty-five tonight, how’s that sound, sweetheart?” You gulp, but know that there’s only one acceptable answer.

“S-sounds good, sir. Thank you,” you breathe, the apprehension clear in your voice, and he laughs quietly.

“And what did you do to deserve this?”

You bite your lip again, struggling to think through the fog of arousal clearly enough to give him an answer that he’ll be satisfied with. “I d-didn’t listen and talked- talked back at you, and…” you trail off when his hand dips between your legs, swirling through the wetness there before retreating again. You inhale sharply and continue, “…and that was disrespectful. I’m sorry, sir, it won’t- it won’t happen again.”

“We’ll see about that,” Dave mumbles and his fingertips ghost over your lower back. “But that was a nice little speech, sweetheart. Starting now, you’re gonna count them out for me, yeah? Lose count and we’ll start over.” You nod and your hands grip the sheets as you try bracing yourself.

The first slap meets your flesh, not as hard as you know he can go, but hard enough to get a small scream out of you. “One,” you force yourself to say and he hums appreciatively, before landing the second slap exactly on the same spot as the first one. “T-two,” you whine, his handprint searing on your skin.

You make it until eleven before your legs give out, your trembling muscles collapsing under the task of keeping you upright in your heels while your body is scrambling to get away from the oncoming assault on your ass cheeks. You fall forward, your knees hitting the mattress right after Dave’s hand connected with your backside again. “Twelve, I’m sorry, sir,” you choke out.

“It’s okay,” he assures you, stepping closer and running his hands soothingly over your back as he searches your face, a look of soft concern on his face. “What’s your color, doll?”

“Green. Still- still green, sir,” you breathe out and you mean it. You feel like you’re on fire, but in the best way.

“Yeah?” he questions, “want me to continue?” and you nod your head eagerly. The concern washes away from his face, his jaw tensing and his eyes growing cold again. “Fucking masochistic little slut,” he growls and you moan, your walls desperately clenching around nothing.

He lets you stay with your knees on the bed, your ass still up high for him, until you’ve finally reached “twenty-five, t-thank you, sir.” You’re sobbing at this point, your skin feels raw where he hit you, but you’re also damn near delirious with want for him.

Dave strokes your skin gently, telling you what a good girl you’ve been and how proud he is of you, and you bask in his praise. Then his hand travels lower, slipping between your thighs until his fingers are running through your folds, feeling how soaked exactly his rough treatment has left you. “Fuck doll, you’re dripping. You really liked that, huh?” he murmurs as he pushes two of his thick fingers into you, sliding in easily and making you moan loudly.

He thrusts into your tight heat roughly, causing you to arch your back and spread your legs wider, your release so close that you can almost taste it. He keeps going until he feels you growing tighter, starting to clench around his fingers, and slides them out of you abruptly. You sob, feeling your orgasm subside again.

“I think you were about to come without permission, sweetheart. You just promised me you’d be good, didn’t you? Guess your greedy little cunt just can’t help herself, huh?”

You whimper an apology and receive another slap to your abused skin, causing you to jerk forward. “No doll, you stay right here. Give me your hands,” Dave’s stern voice orders from behind you. You let him take hold of your wrists, leaving you completely at his mercy in the position that you’re in, and he digs your panties out of his pants pocket, looping them around your wrists until they’re tightly secured.

When he’s satisfied with his work, you finally hear the rustling of him taking off his clothes. Without warning, you feel him swipe the head of his cock through your drenched folds, teasing you with the tip, grazing your clit and causing you to gasp, then sliding back until he’s prodding at your entrance. You whine loudly and try pushing your hips backwards, but his hold tightens around you, keeping you in position.

“Not so fast. Be a good girl and beg for it,” he requests, in a voice that still sounds so controlled, while you feel like you’re barely able to form words anymore. You’re not embarrassed anymore, the promise of his cock so close to where you want him wiping all inhibitions from your mind.

“Please sir, I need you so badly, please fuck me, I’ll do anything, just please…”

You feel pathetic begging like this, but you couldn’t care less. Dave lets out a strained groan behind you, and then he’s pushing into you in one strong thrust. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve taken him or how wet you are, his size always stings at the first intrusion and you wail, your body being pushed forward by his movement and he grips your bound wrists, holding you steady as he starts pounding into you.

“So fucking tight and wet you little slut, fuck you take me so good, being such a good girl, fuck…” Now his voice sounds wrecked behind you and you moan loudly at his words and at the way he’s splitting you open. This is what you had been craving for hours, the feeling of him thrusting into you again and again, and you push your hips back to meet his thrusts, to get him even deeper.

One of his hands grips your hair and pulls, forcing you to arch your back even more and slightly shifting the angle where he’s pounding into you, hitting something so delicious inside of you that you almost come on the spot, your walls already fluttering around him, but you’re not allowed, your scrambled brain reminds you, you need…

“Please sir, I’m gonna come, can I please…” Your voice breaks off into a sob when his movements slow down and he pulls out of you, pushing you forward until you’re laying flat on the bed, and he starts working on releasing your bound wrists.

“Good girl, asking for permission,” he praises, “but you’re gonna look me in the face when I make you come tonight.”

He frees your wrists and turns you around so that you’re on your back, looking up at him through teary eyes, desperate for your release. “Poor thing,” he coos as he gets between your legs, placing his large hands on your thighs and spreading them wide. His cock nudges at your entrance but he doesn’t sink back into you, his gaze trained on your face and his hand wandering up to play with your bottom lip.

“Open wide,” he tells you and you obey, parting your lips and sticking your tongue out. His breath has turned heavy by now and he hovers over you, hungry eyes roaming over your face, your open mouth and your wet eyes. He draws back the tiniest bit, then he spits into your mouth, his saliva coating your tongue and you whine, the filth of the whole situation making your pussy clench once more.

“Keep it open, show me.”

You hold still, your mouth wide open, feeling his spit mixing with yours as you stare up at him, waiting for his next command. “Now swallow,” he finally says and you do, showing him your empty mouth afterwards and he grins. “Fuck, you’re such an obedient slut, being such a good girl for me. You’d do anything right now, wouldn’t you? Fucked all the thoughts out of that pretty little head, yeah?”

“Yes, anything,” you whimper, and he sinks his cock back into you without preamble. Your eyes widen at the sensation of being full again and the new angle, moans of his name falling from your mouth and you wrap your legs around him, grasping at his wide shoulders to hold onto something as he starts pounding into you again with raw strength.

One of his hands wraps around your throat, squeezing until you feel light-headed, intensifying the feeling of his deep thrusts into you. Pleading whispers leave your lips, but you don’t even know what you’re begging for anymore, if you want more, if you want him to stop.

His movements speed up even more, hitting spots inside of you that have you moaning and squirming underneath him and the hand on your throat travels down to your breasts, toying with your nipples, pinching and pulling and sending delicious waves of pain through you.

You’re so close again, when his hand slides down to rub at your clit, making you scream and throw your head back, your eyes pinched close. He grabs at your face and forces you to look at him.

“Oh no, you’re gonna look me in the eyes when I make you come, are you gonna come sweetheart?”, he growls. You whine and nod desperately, your eyes shining with tears. “Go ahead then, come for me, squeeze my cock like the good little whore you are.”

He swirls his thumb over your neglected clit once more, gives you a particularly hard thrust and your vision swims, your whole body tensing up before you bear down on him and fall apart. You’re clenching rhythmically around his cock as the orgasm tears through your body in pulsing waves and you’re pulling him over the edge with you as he climaxes with a deep moan, spilling his release inside of you.

You’re a trembling mess, your breath stuttering and your mind still caught up in a blissful haze, and you’re only vaguely aware of him collapsing beside you, but you register the tender kiss that he presses to your cheek before he gets up and retreats to the bathroom.

The next thing you feel is the bed dipping as he sits down beside you again and you slowly blink your eyes open. Maybe it’s the post-orgasmic bliss that you’re still lost in, but you think to yourself that he looks especially beautiful right now, his face relaxed with a small smile playing around his mouth, where the stubble of his beard is showing through at the end of the day, and with his brown eyes warm again now as he looks at you.

“May I?” he asks and holds up a damp towel. You nod, returning his smile and watching as he brings the towel down between your legs, cleaning you up and soothing your hot skin. He gently turns you over and spreads some kind of healing balm over your burning cheeks, careful not to touch you too roughly. He also cleans your face, his soft touches almost enough to lull you to sleep.

When he’s finished, he maneuvers you around, causing you to giggle, until you’re in the middle of the bed and he can pull the covers over you, sliding in beside you and wrapping his arm around your middle. You shuffle closer until you’re securely tugged into his side, your breath fanning against his broad chest.

“You good?” he asks, looking down at you and placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah,” you smile up at him and stretch to reach his mouth with your lips. He kisses you back, his hand coming up to play with your hair, and you smile even wider. As much as he likes to be rough with you, you think that what he actually needs, is the softness.

series masterlist

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[eternal-honeyy]

What Lies Buried A Luminary Oneshot

Astarion Ancunin x fReader!

Synopsis: In Smallest Star; Unknown we learned of Ottilie, Tav and Astarion's suspected daughter, but where exactly did her name come from? Well, a tale telling of one of the duo's many small adventures together reveals this, and more.

Or, alternatively: How an act of selflessness becomes a coincidence so unbelievable that it may not be one at all in 2,800 words or less.

Note: This fic takes place within the same storyline as my fics, Smallest Star; Unknown and Crawling Ever Upward, both of which you can read here if you'd like some additional context. This story in particular occurs not too long after the events of Smallest Star; Unknown, and was inspired by an ask I received wondering about some of the then unmentioned details of the story. I hope you enjoy! :)

Luminary Masterlist

As Astarion trudged through the thick underbrush at your side, he could not help but wonder for the one millionth time why in the Hells he had followed you here.

Of course, deep down he knew the answer to such a question. That even if he wasn't quite ready to admit it, he felt concern at the idea that you might otherwise be alone for such an emotional venture.

Because that's what this was, wasn't it?

You were going off, whether he liked it or not, to clean yet another grouping of untended graves, because that was what you always did when you saw those crumbling and moss covered monuments of death and memorial.

Every. Single. Time. No matter how often it meant turning back the very way you had just came after helping to set up camp.

"Any of those graves could be his."

Was what you had said when Astarion had finally asked why you were bothering to spend so much time and energy on something as selfless and futile as cleaning off the monuments of Faerûn's long forgotten dead.

And what was he supposed to say to that if not offer to go with you?

How else was he supposed to react to that reminder of what you had lost? Of who you were searching for with every passing breath and each twitching movement of your gaze.

When you spoke of him, you were no longer his fearless leader, or even the one he so begrudgingly called a friend, but rather that same scared little half-drow girl that you had been back when your father had given you up for what he had been manipulated to believe was the better.

You did not speak often of your childhood, or rather, that loveless angry thing that had been known by the name, but even so, Astarion knew enough.

He knew that you were the child of a Lolth-sworn drow woman and a man of unknown race, and that upon your mother's untimely demise from an illness your young mind had not understood, your dear father, who you spoke of with such reverence and care, had been manipulated by his deceased wife's family to to believe that he could not raise you properly because of your drow heritage, in spite of the fact that his lover had left it behind so willingly.

And so, he had given you up, tearfully and with a great heaving sadness, to your grandmother and aunt, who had taken you far away from the sun and into the depths of The Underdark, where you had been raised from the age of seven and long into adulthood in Menzoberranzan, that great drow city where your mother had been brought up before you.

You rarely spoke of your time down there, in spite of the fact that it had made up the majority of your life, but from the little you had said, the vampire could tell that it had been a time hard lived.

Your grandmother and aunt, true to their Lolth-sworn heritage, were all but strangers to kindness, their impatience vast and their tolerance for failure so minuscule that it may as well have been nonexistent. They wanted to raise you to be the strong and unrelenting woman that your mother had failed to be, and when you could not give them that merciless and borderline cruel nature that they wished for, they made their disappointment known.

And you'd never said it aloud, but it had been a lonely life down there in The Underdark, feeling as if you were the only half-drow in all of Menzoberranzan, and being treated as such. To some, raising a child of your heritage was a greater shame than birthing a third son was to a Lolth-sworn drow woman.

So, of course, when the time had come where it was possible for you to leave, you had jumped at the opportunity, and for the first time in so very many years,

You saw the sun again.

And now, all that you yearned for was to find your father beneath its heavy, heated glare, regardless of whether or not he still lived.

You knew not of his race, nor of how he looked so many years later, so all you had to go off of was a last name, nearly forgotten and foreign on your tongue in spite of it being your own, and a first one, known only from a shred of a diary entry found in your mother's old bedroom in your teenage years.

You could only hope that it belonged to him, and that the "dearest love" that she had written about was not some young drow boy known by your mom in her youth, when she had called Menzoberranzan a home rather than a prison.

And so, at each decrepit and unkempt little graveyard or lone headstone, you stopped and spent hours upon hours of your day cleaning off the names of people who had long since become ancestors to even those that themselves no longer walked the earth.

And while Astarion did not find much sense in this strange use of your time, he found that he could not fault you for it.

So caring for long dead things, so ceaseless in your need to give memory to the forgotten,

And what was he if not just that?

Long dead.

Forgotten.

He went with you to every ridiculous headstone cleaning after you'd answered that question for him.

He dulled his blade on stone cutting through cold and dampened moss, pricked his fingers pulling at long overgrown thorns, and filled his mind with the names of those that (hopefully) rested at peace beneath their markers.

And of course, that was why the two of you were here.

Trudging through the thick wooded forest because hours prior you had spotted some long abandoned grave plot while searching for a pond to bathe yourself in.

And what else were you meant to do if not tend to those old and nature burdened stones?

"Almost there, I promise."

You said quietly, doing your best to appease your companion before those words of complaint could rise to his lips, an act of familiarity that, if not for how distracted he was with not tripping over tree roots, may have disquieted the man walking at your side.

Astarion scoffed in response, but opted to otherwise remain silent, not quite willing to admit just how okay he felt with these ridiculous misadventures as long as they were spent at your side, and as long as they were spent doing something, anything right for the first time in centuries.

And so, the two of you walked in a comfortable silence for several more minutes through twisted trees and unkempt shrubbery, until finally you came upon a sun dappled clearing, in the middle of which sat four long abandoned headstones, all of them cracked and crumbling into near disrepair.

Astarion sighed,

"My dear, these are utterly pitiful."

And though he did not see it, he felt you shrug in response from where you stood at his side, allowing a few long seconds to take everything in before you stepped forward further, pulling a bar of heavy duty soap out of your pack.

"Guess we'd better get to work then." You reasoned, kneeling in front of the closest concrete slab and inspecting it slowly before raising the tip of your dagger to the moss that covered its markings.

Astarion watched you for several moments, admiring the way that your blade slid masterfully between rough stone and soft greenery, removing the mass in one careful slice that sent it sliding to the ground with a rather unattractive sounding 'plop'.

At that, the vampire sighed again, and then moved to stand at the grave a few feet to your right, his blade at the ready, never one to be bested by the knife work of another, even if (and perhaps even especially if), that other was you.

And soon enough, the two of you were scrubbing, scraping, and slicing away at moss, dirt, thorns, and whatever else had grown to hide the memorial stones of these people, who you both soon came to find had the same last name.

"A family plot." You said upon realizing, your fingers tracing over the letters of their shared last name, that beautiful thing among them that they'd all shared, and perhaps even still did, even in death, bound by that at least, if nothing else.

"Ugh, imagine,"

Astarion muttered, his nose crinkled in disgust,

"Buried amongst your family for the rest of time. How boring"

You cracked a smile at that, your eyes rolling as you hacked away at a particularly stubborn branch of thorns,

"You would think so, wouldn't you?"

And though he knew you hadn't meant it that way, Astarion was quick to quip back,

"Well, you know me, darling. I'm not too keen on staying buried."

You had stopped the incessant seesawing of your blade at that, eyes moving upward to find his own, seeking out any sign of discomfort or sorrow, probing him for some evidence that he was upset over what you'd said.

He hated when you did that.

It made him think you cared.

It made him worry you cared.

So, instead of commenting further, he simply looked away, refusing to meet your eyes even when you called out to him quietly, that edge of concern to your voice that always made his spine stiffen and his heart lurch.

He had no desire for anyone's pity, much less yours.

The two of you sat in silence for several long minutes, until finally, you spoke up again, the sound of your blade on thorns returning alongside your voice.

"Well, as selfish as it may be, I'm glad that you didn't."

Astarion did not reply,

But he quietly muddled over the idea that he might be too, if only just a little.

After that, the very same comfortable silence from before fell upon you again while you worked, the hours passing in a haze of slicing blades, frothing soap, and pouring water.

Until finally, the job was done.

The two of you stood in the center of the clearing, a few feet away from the small cluster of monuments, your hands upon your hips, as you both admired your work.

You had done what you could to clean and repair the damaged stones, and honestly, the cleaning alone had made all the difference.

No longer did these tombstones look abandoned and forgotten, and no longer were the names unspoken and unknown.

You jotted them down in your little notebook the way that you always did, and let them float off of your tongue as naturally as your mouth would allow.

They were known to you now, and you would take them with you on all of your travels, their memory no longer faded or at risk of vanishing now that your lips knew their weight.

That was the part that meant the most to you.

You hoped that your father had received a similar kindness, if his feet no longer walked the earth as yours did.

And walk they did, though perhaps not as gracefully as you may have wanted, a fact which was only further proven by the sudden shout of surprise you let out as you stumbled forward, only just barely catching yourself upon the forearm of your far more stable and agile companion.

Astarion's mind briefly wandered, making its way back to the last night you had spent in his tent, when your hands had grasped so fearfully at him, seeking out comfort where there had feasibly been none.

Though, he was soon brought right back to reality as he heard you gasp softly, his eyes falling to your form as you crouched beside his feet.

"What is i-"

Astarion cut himself off as he took a proper look toward the space where your eyes were trained, noting for the very first time since your joint arrival the presence of a fifth headstone, several yards away from the rest, in a far more decrepit state than the others had been in.

The elf watched as you cleared away at some of the underbrush surrounding the stone, removing that which had hidden it from view before.

"Woah."

You muttered beneath your breath, fingers tracing at the moss in search of a date that you could hope to make out without the help of your blade.

"This one is way older than the others."

You remarked, readying your dagger after a few seconds of contemplation.

"Good for one more?"

Your gaze was almost pleading as you looked up at him, and though Astarion very nearly groaned in response to your question, something about the lonely grave called out to him, filling his chest with some foreign sense of longing.

He needed to see this stone returned to some semblance of upkeep, even if he didn't quite understand why.

Not that you could ever know that.

An impatient click of his tongue, one of his favored shows of annoyance, and then,

"I suppose. Let's make it quick."

And at that, he knelt down at your side, blade at the ready, and got to work.

It took quite some time, that old headstone, the old rock all but dyed a swampish looking green by moss and time until you took an entire bar of soap to it in order to wash it clean.

But Gods, did it feel worth it when it was done.

The two of you leaned back on your forearms beside one another, gazing at the now far nicer looking stone before you.

It was different from the rest, older, as you had said, and bearing a different last name, perhaps the one that had come before the family had gained that which the rest had died with, be it through marriage or some other less traditional means.

Still, it was not the age, nor the difference in name that struck you,

But rather the apparent youth of the person that it memorialized.

"She was but a babe."

You commented softly as your hand brushed away at the ground, clearing a few stray leaves, though Astarion knew from having watched your personal little memorial rituals that you were more than likely trying to give some comforting attention to the child who rested far beneath where your hands could hope to reach.

"Three years."

Astarion replied, his own palm falling to the ground and remaining steady there, as if he could hope to heat it with a hand devoid of warmth, all too aware of how cold the dirt could be, so far below.

He hoped she had been buried lovingly, and in warm clothes that her mother had once held her close in.

He hoped she had been mourned in the way that she doubtlessly deserved.

"Not nearly long enough." You remarked, sighed as you leaned forward to brush a slight dusting of dirt off the O in her name, "Not for how long she must have laid forgotten here, unknown."

Astarion frowned at the thought, and soon found himself shaking his head in response,

"Well not any longer." He murmured, standing slowly, trying to keep his mind from racing in spite of the strange coincidence sitting before him, and in spite of his vivid former dream, the one that plagued him so at every passing evening when he hoped silently for it to return, if only for a moment. "We will remember. She will be known."

With a nod, you rose as well, standing alongside him with a subtle smile, heart clearly feeling more at ease at your companion's uncharacteristically kind words. "That's right, she will."

And then, as you always did, you spoke the title of your newest friend, this time with even more kindness than usual.

"Ottilie."

You murmured, her name falling off of your lips as if it had always been there, as if she were some long loved friend bearing a name that you said so often that it came as second nature to utter it.

Astarion sighed shakily, but nodded, his mouth twitching upward slightly as he reached out to place his hand upon the stone,

"Ottilie."

[weirdthoughtsandideas]

Two dads

Sorry to all my glee fic readers who had to wait literally 16 days for a new glee oneshot in the pride prompts event.

Nonetheless! Guess which couple canonically were expecting a kid in the last episode and I decided to explore how they are as dads? ;)

Their daughter is unnamed though, because I couldn't come up with a good name. It's a pretty short oneshot anyway, because most of these are between 500-2000 words long.

Read on ao3 or under the cut.

The little girl woke up crying. She was a baby, so this is how she woke up most days.

Her two dads were quick to come into the room.

“We’re here, darling!” Kurt said soothingly. “Don’t you worry.”

“We’ve prepared a marvelous breakfast for you, princess,” Blaine said. “But first, we need to get you ready!”

“Yes!” Kurt lifted her out of her crib. “As we all can smell, you need a change out of your morning diaper. Have you let it all out or is there more? We don’t want to waste too many cloth diapers, it’s too much laundry as it is.”

The baby gurgled.

“I’d take that as you’ve emptied it all out.”

“Good, then you have plenty of room for breakfast!” Blaine said. 

The men only had cloth diapers for their girl. Better for the environment, and they save so much money! Plus, the cloth diapers were really pretty.

“Tell me, your highness,” Blaine said, “Which diaper would you like to wear this morning?”

Their daughter kind of moved her foot slightly, which they interpreted as her pointing at a pink pair.

“Pink is an excellent choice!”

They put her down in the high chair.

“Bon appétit!” Blaine exclaimed. “I made some scrambled eggs for the little lady!”

The baby shrieked and flapped her little hands.

“Let me assist you,” Kurt cooed. “Open your mouth!” He fed her the scrambled eggs. Both him and Blaine could tell she loved it. 

“How do you rate this cuisine?” Blaine asked.

“Weh!” their daughter exclaimed and held up both her hands.

“Full stars! Woah, I’m so honored!” He pretended to bow in front of her, causing her to giggle.

After breakfast, it was time to go out for a walk. Kurt strapped their daughter onto a baby carrier. ”Now you just sit there enjoying the view, my love.”

”I’m jealous, I wish I could sit in a baby carrier,” Blaine said.

”And she’s probably jealous you can walk,” Kurt joked. 

They walked out around the park, enjoying the weather. Some people stopped them just to comment about their cute baby.

Some people asked which one was the father, and got quite a surprise when they answered ”both!”. Apparently, even in the 2020s people were surprised about two dads…

After half an hour, they noticed the baby was getting a bit cranky.

”It’s time for your pre-lunch nap, isn’t it?” Kurt asked. 

”Kurt, she’s not supposed to nap for another hour.”

”Hm, then why is she cranky?”

They decided it was best to head back home, so they could calmly help their daughter with whatever was bothering her. 

She had been growing increasingly more cranky by the minute, and the men almost felt the need to run home to figure it out.

Finally, they reached their house. The second they came inside, Blaine lifted her out of the baby carrier.

”There, there, princess… what’s wrong?”

She just cried and made grunting sounds.

”Maybe she’s just feeling overwhelmed,” Kurt suggested. 

Blaine nodded. He patted her back. 

”Yeah, sometimes being outside is a lot… but it’s ok… just let it all out.”

Right then, she very loudly started to fill her diaper. 

Kurt and Blaine stared at each other in silence for a few seconds. 

”Well, she seemed to have let it all out,” Kurt joked, and both laughed slightly.

They went to the changing table. As they laid her down, she started to yawn.

”Maybe messing herself took a lot of energy out of her,” Kurt said.

”Yeah, I mean, sometimes it drains your energy,” Blaine replied. ”Maybe we could have her nap be a bit earlier.”

”Good idea. Little lady, what color of the diaper you’re gonna wear for nap time will you choose?”

”Eeh,” their daughter gurgled.

”Violet? Well, why not!” 

They put her down in her crib.

”What would miss like to hear as a lullaby?” Blaine asked. 

Their daughter seemed to be up for anything, as long as it soothed her to sleep.

So, her two dads sang her the first song that came to their minds. They hummed the melody, and smiled as they watched their little baby close her eyes and drift off to sleep.

”Have a nice nap,” Kurt whispered, kissing her on the forehead before the two walked out.

”Kurt?” Blaine asked, ”Will we continue to sing her a lullaby at every single nap time?” 

Kurt nodded. ”I hope so. I wanna sing to her every day… until she’s a moody teenager who asks us to stop.”

They laughed.

Luckily, their little angel would not be a teenager for many, many years, so they could look forward to a lot more lullabies to sing her to sleep with. 

[titlemewickedwonderland]

Fan Service (Sleep Token oneshot)

Summary: Elena had been a fan of a lot of bands over the years. Her favorite had been Ghost and Sleep Token since she'd discovered them over a year ago; unfortunately, though she never had the opportunity to meet the band or go see them live before. What she didn't expect was for Sleep Token to have a show playing live just a few hours away from her city! Jumping at the chance to see them finally live she never expected how her night would turn out!

Pairings: Platonic!Vessel x OC, Plantonic!iii x OC

*Please note that I am aware Sleep Token does not interact with fans like this at concerts! One could only dream; this is just a silly little oneshot for you guys! I have not seen them live either and I know the interactions may seem oc considering what kind of band they are and their lore. Bear with me, it's just imagination just like all the other fanfics of bands out there! Hope you enjoy. This is not to portray their actual personalities or interactions! SIMPLY FANFICTION! Please don't come at me....I DO respect the band and their privacy to keep their personal lives and personalities out of media; I love them dearly and mean no disrespect to them as people or as a band. This is just something silly I thought up; experimenting, if you will...If you haven't seen them or listened to them; boy honey you're missing out!

My Workshop

She was jittery. Bouncing on the toes of her black hightops as she waited in line. The ticket clutched tightly in her hands as she scanned the rest of the crowd that lined up to the venue to get in. The excitement and anticipation for tonight's show were palpable on her tongue as she took a calming breath to stop the scatter of butterflies in her stomach from exploding from her body and out of her mouth. There were so many people here and although Elena was not fond of large crowds like this, she knew she'd regret it immensely if she didn't come tonight. The very idea that she could have, even by her own volition, missed out when her favorite band was so close to her performing made a knot form in her stomach; not helping her out at all with the nervous energy her body carried.

She'd been in love with the music this band created since she first found them out a little over a year ago. Sleep Token had bumped her love for this kind of music higher on her list - making her more obsessed with the addictive blend until she'd played playlist after playlist on endless loops through her speakers at her small apartment. And tonight, she drove a few hours from her hometown just to see them.

When her turn came at the line she handed over her ticket to get punched before being allowed entry. Her green eyes widened at the scene around her. Countless booths lined up with canopies advertising merch sales for everything under the sun. From T-shirts to sweatshirts, wristbands with the band's logos, to copies of their latest albums on CDs and so much more. The girl found herself standing near the barrier of other fans who were browsing the tables; staring down at the items displayed for purchase and bit her lip. It wasn't as if she didn't have the money; she'd saved up months from her job at the music store she worked at just for this chance to get a souvenir from the band she loved the most.

But despite her eagerness to snatch something up like a sweatshirt she refrained with all her willpower; she wasn't going to blow her whole paycheck until she'd seen everything there was to see. A slight breeze blew through the open venue causing her to shiver a bit and glance back at the stall showcasing the black zip-up sweaters only partly regretting not buying one since she didn't expect the weather to get cold tonight. She was dressed in a pretty dress. Black with white dragons all over it and the collar was high - like a turtleneck without the extra fabric and it hugged her body perfectly while a pair of hightop black shoes cased her feet for comfort. Her long brown hair was hanging down her back unhinged by the tie that was wrapped around her slender wrist. It wasn't like she was trying to dress to impress. She certainly didn't seem like she fit into this sort of environment while others dressed more for comfort or wearing varies of bandwear. But she'd just bought this dress and figured today would have been the best to wear it; even if it didn't go lower then the middle of her thighs. She got cold easily and she was beginning to regret not bringing a jacket to wear.

She'd followed the crowd towards the large open field where a large stage was constructed for the band to play and she weaseled herself to the front with ease; being so small at only 5'2" kind of helped. She wouldn't have been able to see Sleep Token on stage any other way not that she needed to - their music spoke more than the show they put on but man did she really want to see Vessel doing his adorable dances as he unhinged from the world and allowed the music to guide his body. She'd seen videos of other fan's uploads of his hopping and jumping on stage as he danced and she really wanted to see it live. So she took position at the iron railings that bracketed the fans from the stage at a safe distance and watched as tech people got the stage ready.

The sun was already low in the sky, the show going to start very soon - it was better experienced at night with all the light affects and strobe lights. Simply watching the way the tech people worked on stage made her heart race a bit as she knew in just minutes the show would begin and she would be right there at the front watching.

More people gathered behind her and Elena rested her arms against the railings as she watched; purposefully ignoring the fans behind her and on either side as they wanted to get the front row as well. If she dared to look behind her at all the people she would probably freak; she hated being at the front of any line let alone in the middle of a crowd so she didn't. Simply watched with anticipation and bated breath as the techs left and the lights began to come on. The show was beginning.

It was magnetic. It was addicting. It was like a shot of adrenaline through her system. Vessel's voice was like dark silk as he sang his lyrics and she was practically in a trance as she watched him perform. A big smile crept onto her face as she watched; her heart aching so much with adoration as she watched him get lost to the music; watched as he interacted with the fans through his signature hand movements and fruitiness with iii on stage. She loved it all and knew if she were to die right now she'd die with a blissful smile on her face. The crowd behind her was just as enthralled by him. Jumping up and down, dancing, and swinging around like crazy people behind her as they got lost in the music.

But then Elena felt her body slam forward into the railings in front of her when a fan not paying attention to his surroundings practically decked her in the back with his wild arms making her lurch forward aggressively against the metal. Her arms seared with pain as they jammed against the harsh cold railing causing her to hiss in pain; she would surely bruise come morning. And then just as suddenly a strong arm grabbed her arms and she looked up startled as security was quick to lift her tiny frame over the barrier and away from the danger. She yelped in surprise and clung to the man's shoulders as he carried her away from the railing and to a chair at the side of the stage causing her heart rate to spike when she realized where she was.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" the man asked scanning her over as she clutched her arm.

Elena laughed nervously and began nodding. "I am! I just hurt my arm a little bit on the railing there's no need for-" she began to protest feeling so very wrong for being on the other side of the barrier; feeling like a child that isn't supposed to be somewhere but before she could get the sentence out a figure jumped off of the stage as the music began to change into its melodic melodies instead of lyrics. Her gaze lifted up to find one of the guitarists coming her way still holding his instrument to the side of his body as he made his way over.

At first, Elena expected to be yelled at or told she needed to get back to the crowd but instead, her eyes widened when they met the familiar blue of iii's eyes as he came to stand beside her. One large hand rested on her shoulder as he did so.

"Everything okay here?" his voice was a little rough around the edges; probably from screaming out to the crowd to hype them up some more but there was no anger in his voice from what she could tell. She cleared her throat and shook her head a little as she pointed to her ear as if to tell him she couldn't hear him very well; which honestly wasn't a lie, being this close to the stage the music was a lot louder than in the crowd.

The bassist's black mask with the familiar Sleep Token symbol shifted as if he was smiling beneath his mask before he was bending down to speak in her ear; his larger frame tall and imposing seemingly less intimidating this way.

"Are you okay honey?" he asked near her ear allowing her to hear him better.

Elena blushed slightly at the proximity and nodded slightly as she laughed nervously. "I'm okay, it's just a misunderstanding really-" she began but the guard cut her off.

"Another fan behind her was being a little rough and she got injured on the barriers."

iii's eyes softened in concern as he looked her over and Elena quickly waved her hands in front of her. "It's okay really. I'm not bleeding or anything, just gonna bruise. It's not that big of a deal really. I appreciate the concern but I mean it is a concert; something was bound to happen." she tried to protest.

iii was already grabbing at her slender arm and examining the redness of where her skin had been hit against the railings minutes earlier and his head tilted a bit.

"Damn. I'm sorry sweetheart. We want our fans to have fun but not to hurt each other even by accident." he said and Elena shook her head again as she glanced over her shoulder catching Vessel's figure as he walked closer to their side of the stage; his head tilting towards them but because of the mask covering his face and the mic close to his mouth as he sang, she couldn't tell his expression.

She ducked her head; allowing her hair to hide her expression as she felt the embarrassment heat up her face. "It's really not that bad. Nothing that involved me being whisked away. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to distract you from the show. Please, go on and finish! I'll be back out there cheering you guys on." Elena began to stand but a pair of warm hands covered in black pain suddenly gripped her knees and she looked up to find Vessel crouching in front of her.

She sank back into her chair with a start and looked up at him. She couldn't see his eyes through the slits in his mask but the lower half of his face and jaw were exposed. Good god this man was beautiful even without full features being shown; she could tell by the shape of his lips and the half smile on his face - the strong neck and jaw coated in black paint that was starting to wear off from the light sheen of sweat that coated his naked torso.

"Are you hurt, honey?" Vessel's normal speaking voice was just as beautiful as his singing one. Deep and raspy from singing but beautiful causing Elena to feel as if her tongue was made of cotton instead of flesh and muscle as she dumbly nodded to him.

"She was injured by another fan during the show." iii mentioned and Elena shot him a look from the corner of her eye.

"I told you. It's not life-threatening! I'm okay really!" she protested before looking at Vessel and then the nearly empty stage behind him.

"Shit the show! You guys better go before people think something's wrong," she said frantically; her hands raising without though to gentle press at Vessel's shoulders as if to push him back towards it.

"Hey hey, calm down sweetheart." Vessel's hands gripped her wrists and his bright white smile was on display. "Don't worry about that right now. Tell us what's wrong, are you hurt?" he asked.

Elena's gaze dropped to his mouth so that she didn't stare at his naked torso instead and nodded. "I'm fine! Seriously!" she laughed a bit at their persistent concern for a random fan; god she loved them so much but they did have a show to finish and she wouldn't allow some scandal to happen over a few little bruises.

"I'll probably have a bruise but nothing bad. Now go!" she willed herself to gentle shove at Vessel's shoulders again even when all she wanted was to wrap her arms around him and give him a massive hug; she refrained and tempted down the fangirl within her.

"Aw, so sweet aren't yah?" iii cooed playfully causing another hot flash to creep up Elena's neck.

"Seriously?!" the girl covered her face but then there was the gentle caress of lips against her ear as Vessel drew nearer to be heard over the crowd of the fans several feet away.

"I'll tell you what, princess. Stick around after the show and come find one of the security for a personal escort to a VIP. Deal?"

Her eyes widened as she stared over his shoulder at the stage; petrified as much as thrill raced through her. "I-I can't do that. I can't let you guys do that! Come on it's not that bad of an accident. You're overreacting...it's not something you need to worry about let alone give me a personal VIP-" she protested turning her head slightly.

Vessel's grin was on full display now as he cocked his head to meet her gaze behind his mask. He smelled like sweat and body paint but also something that was either some sort of body wash or deodorant; something that was all Vessel.

"We want to take care of our fans, honey. It's partly our fault for the crowd being like this so let's make this right. It's the least we can do." Vessel said and Elena stared up at his masked face as he withdrew.

The red details of his otherwise white mask were beautiful up close and she could tell there was a lot of artistic love put into it. Blinking up at him her lips turned into a frown and they parts as if to decline but the singer only shook his head playfully and placed a finger to his lips.

"I won't go finish this show until you agree. We'd love to get to know you a little better." he offered.

She knew he was bluffing. Why would he just shut down the entire show for her? but wasn't this what she dreamed about since the moment she found his band? She never expected something like this to happen; it was like some kind of dream. Swallowing thickly she finally nodded with a shy smile on her face.

"If I'm not going to be a bother...I don't want to cause trouble for you guys."

Vessel's laugh was adorable as he leaned over and pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek. "You're not a bother at all, honey." he replied pulling away.

"Elena." she corrected on impulse causing both Vessel and iii to tilt their heads at her.

"My name's Elena." she smiled slightly at them.

"Nice to meet you, Elena. We'll see you soon, darling." Vessel grinned at her as he backed up towards the stage again.

"See you soon, angel!" iii winked giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze before he and his friend darted back up the stage to continue the show.

Elena let out a shaky breath; practically reeling from the unexpected interaction. She rose from the chair as if to make her way back to the crowd but she glanced back up the stage only to find Vessel pointing at her as he sang; his head tilting towards her playfully and she could practically hear his voice in her head with his directions without even him speaking them into the mic.

she laughed a bit; the sound lost in the fray of blasting music as she sank back down into the metal chair and crossed one leg over the other as well as her arms over her chest as she stuck her tongue out at him playfully; feeling the familiar heat of a blush on her face as she caught the last second of his pearly smile of approval as he turned back towards the crowd; belting out the lyrics to 'Chokehold' as he did so.

~

A/N: Thank you all for reading this! I hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know if you'd like for me to continue writing for this band. Again, Sleep Token has stolen my heart for a while now and I love them dearly I can't put it into words so I'd be more than happy to write some more if you'd like to read it! <3

[hyuckmov]

hello jing hehe, i actually read the demon hyuck fic last night before going to bed 🤭 (a must so that i can get inspired from thinking of fake scenarios as i fall asleep 😆)

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE ITTTTTT apart from the fact i like corruption kinks in general hehe this one is now added to my books! AND THE INCORPORATION OF DEMON ANGEL DYNAMICS JUST MADE IT SPICIER 🔥 hyuck being drawn to innocent little y/n 👌🏼

probably one of my favorite moments in tropes like this is when the ml enjoys and is amused by the fl falling apart at the most featherlight touches and from then on would go insane from anything further and deeper than that AND I CAN SAY U YOU PORTRAYED THOSE DETAILS VERY WELL IN THIS FIC 🫶🏼

apart from that, my fave would also be that it was meant to be sort of a one time thing for hyuck but suddenly feels something that he can't help but want more and perhaps stay longer but hehe circumstances circumstances given the character dynamics (STILL LOVE IT THO)

I can't help but ponder at the end tho i have soooooo many questions like was corrupting angels a regular thing for hyuck even before he met y/n? how was y/n when she woke up? did she remember any of those happenings with hyuck? did he erased her memory? what on earth happened when y/n got jealous like what power did she do to him to make a demon submit to her like that fkdkdjd? LIKE OH MY GOD THE OPEN END LEAVES ROOM FOR MORE which is why i am kindly asking hehe, is there a possibility for a part 2? 👉🏼👈🏼 NO PRESSURE THO ><

anywayyy I really enjoyed it and i remember u always say that u hope ur fics are at least hot BUT GIRL THIS IS VERY HOT AND IS MORE THAN JUST THAT WITH A LITTLE TWINGE OF ANGST 💖

lemme just share my fave scene and lines:

"that's because you're always so good for me." now burying his face in your neck, he pulls you closer in his arms, closing his eyes so he can breathe you in. "you're too good for me, angel." 

my mind just exploded right then and there 🤯 second line very on point with the plot! and ngl i wanna see more of them if you would allow us to and if that's part of ur future plans 🤭 AND LAST ONE I SWEAR HAHA i really love how the story STARTED and ENDED with "hey, angel" 🫶🏼

HEHE I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE WHAT ELSE U HAVE UP YOUR SLEEVE! I HOPE U HAD A BLAST ON UR BIRTHDAY AS MUCH AS WE DID WITH DEMON HYUCK 🩷 LOVE UUUU TAKE CAREEEE AND STAY SAFE!~ 🩷🩷🩷

- 💛

💛 ANON ur so fast omg thank u for always being so supportive of what i write and taking the time to read and review it. i hav been sitting on this ask for a little bc every time i read it i feel like my day is made all over again... you are too kind to me omg & the idea of a pt.2 too 😭😭😭

im so happy i managed to successfully write someth for the hyuck x corruption kink community esp w the many requests i got for that <3 i hope i managed to live up to some of the expectations and also take it somewhere interesting w the demon x angel dynamic !!! i especially wanted to show demon hyuck still have the capacity for tenderness and warmth and the sort of angel energy taking effect on him too so im really glad that came across <3 im so happy this was hot & angsty enough for uu

hehehe ABOUT YOUR QUESTIONS.... i purposefully left those vague and it truly means the world to me that you would be interested in a part 2!!! i actually kind of had plans for them too beyond the open ending but i felt like it would be too much for a oneshot... i guess i'll see how this fic does and how its recieved before deciding on whether there's a demand for a part 2 hehe

thank you for sharing your favorite scenes and lines hehehe <3 she was too good for him and it scared him so much i'm so happy u noticed that in the way it was phrased :) hope you have a lovely day and week and stay healthy too!!!

[liz-allyn]

so you're ready to start reading tasm!peter...

Do you know someone who may be impacted by Andrew Garfield and his constant assault of incredible acting, boy-next-door-to-DILF-transition facial hair, colorful couture, and well-fitting pants? If so, there may be help.

If you're new to the TASM fanfic fandom and feel overwhelmed, you're not alone! I recommend any new reader START by following these incredible writers who have a large number of TASM!Peter fics, and taking a deep dive into their "masterpieces." These are works that I think truly illustrate their passion and storytelling style (not just their amazing TALENT):

@spidervee - Just read it all. Clearly one of the most prolific TASM!Peter writers on Tumblr, and worthy of being "Queen Vee" since a lot of us got back into writing because of her. Everyone knows her for her blurbs, but start with Band Aids on Broken Hearts, Even on Your Worst Days, and Fractured and Familiar (part 1 and 2), and be amazed as you track the progression into deeper, risker hits like End of the World As We Know It, A Little Wicked and The Wild. Her magnum opus masterpiece is (so far) The Spider and the Sunflower.

@blooming-violets - Such a brilliant and creative mind, it KiLLs mE. First work I came across was Pinky Promise, which is a phenominal story in re: pacing, characters, drama, action, etc. Then I am REVIVED by her naughty "angel" series she DOUBLE JEOPARDY MURDERS ME AGAIN with Something Unforgivable and I'm like "goddamn this is poetic and it hurts." Then she literally murders LOTS OF PEOPLE with Smitten, which I would call a masterpiece. stabby stabb death stab

@withahappyrefrain - Girl is on fire with ideas, patron saint of Daddy Kink and Sundresses. I could not possibly list all of the amazing works on here (especially all the blurbs which are my daily sustenance) but I'd say her crowned jewel is Here Comes the Sun.

@rae-gar-targaryen - Supreme Avocado, Attorney at Law. Has a great mix of content with a chunk of TASM!Peter, such a beautiful way with words, including her visually-sublime sweet masterpiece hang the stars upon tonight

@abibliophobiaa luna lovepine-piney-piningqueen-of-pineville - Perfect Places is a 3rd degree slow burn and is just FANTASTIC. Sleep Peter burns for it. And I burn for them. Speaking of which, I'd say the magnum opus is Another Love, which is an incredible AU feat of genius.

@fallensilencefics writes TASM!Peter almost exclusively and might also get me double-pregnant with her smut works. Also Angel of the Airwaves is like a fucking awesome superhero!reader / poc!reader fic unapologetically and it's also a masterpiece.

@mrshipsmcgee - CAIT! Dis bitch got me pregnant; current awaiting a DNA test. Also: our mother-goddess, because that's her energy, and she helped me with my first stories and inspired me to get back into writing, and I encourage you to check out In Another Universe, Symbiote and my other fav, A Lord & A Lady, her Bridgerton AU that I really loved even though I've never seen Bridgerton.

@p3mybeloved started her tasm writing journey a few months after some of the others on this list but i'm blown away by how OBSESSED i am now. Also I just fucking STARTED We Can Be Heroes because I suck at tasking let alone multitasking and now I feel like I want to read one chapter a month because I don't want it to end.

@luveline Writes 50 blurbs a day with bottomless talent like it's a Happy Hour Special at Applebees and so many of them have made me WEEP like I'm alone at a Happy Hour at Applebees, she is truly a gift.

@lanadelreyscokewhor3 Is the Patron Saint of Innocence Kink and I have to be alone in a forest every time she writes something that's TASM Peter because I should not be near other humans.

@peterthepark I think she's currently retired from TASM!Peter Duty but read her lovely oneshots and her spicy Ridiculous fics are required reading for Blonde Frat Boy Peter (what is blonde fratboy peter? *laughs nervously* it was is a thing)

If you haven't discovered @decadentpaperduck, @foreverrogers, @indouloureux, and @ddejavvu then what is the point of the internet...

and honestly this list can get so long but I really need to eat now. These are blogs that I feel like post majority TASM!Peter and have all been responsible in some way for crafting the way I write.

BUT enough about my opinions. I know I missed some excellent "must read" stories.

Moots, please help me out by reblogging with your favorites!

[sscoutregimentss]

i know we as a collective society believe in gamer! eren supremacy. and yes, this is a good take. however, may i introduce to you: normie/fuckboy/jock eren with gamer/nerd gf. thoughts under the cut (safe for work, pg-13, also slight snk spoilers for season 3 and up!)

see, eren isnt necessarily a fuckboy. in fact, hes very loyal! he doesnt really think that way about any girls or guys except you. but hes popular romantically and had a reputation for sleeping around before he met you (not that theres anything wrong with that but ya know word travels fast across campus). plus, cmon the dude is in a frat, super hot and has a tongue piercing. he cant blame anyone for thinking he is a fuckboy bc he exudes the energy.

you are kind of the complete opposite. you dont really enjoy parties and you keep to yourself. you're a total wreck when it comes to flirting and your kinda oblivious to whenever people like you. you dont have many friends and are a bigger fan of 2d people than 3d.

either way eren finds you so so so cute. he first approached you at one of his frat parties. your roommates convinced you to come after she said that someone (read: connie) had a dance dance revolution mat, but you kinda just stuck around in a corner staring at your cup once you lost them. he looks you up and down-- your outfit was pretty cute, a short plaid orange pleated skirt, dress shirt, orange cardigan and black beret laying neatly upon your head. and your face... he couldn't help himself but try to talk to you. you were really anxious because wahhh scary sports guy you dont know but he was kinda instantly comforting? in a way? and he was freaking pretty. he looked like a final fantasy character--long haired characters were your type. the rest was kind of history.

a lot of people are shocked when they find out your dating bc you two are so different (some people are surprise eren “dates” at all) but no one dares question your relationship when they see how much eren dotes on you. he has so many polaroids of you in his wallet-- from the many arcade dates you bring him on where you decimate him at almost every game, you awkwardly posing in the hentai section of bookstores, or just candids of you being intensely focused on a puzzle in a game. whenever you guys go out to eat and somethings wrong with your meal, he'll send it back (in a polite way, of course, but hes still assertive.) or if you buy like a figurine and its misisng something hes marching up to the cashier stand for you. he always has an arm around your waist or is holding is hand in yours. sometimes you just cling onto his arm and rest your head on it (hes comfy!!!!! and you are always tired) your both pretty clingy, but you get kinda awkward when you two are around people you know so he just kinda subtly holds you as to not make a scene. its nice. hes comfy.

youve got dual monitors, a pc you made yourself, rgb keyboard, the whole nine yards. all your consoles are up to date and you keep a handheld system on you at all times. you spend most your weekends watching anime and movies and tv shows and your shelves are piled high with books and comic books. eren literally does not understand any of it. when you told him you built your pc he goes "you made all those microchippy things? youre soooo smart babe". when you talk about some of your weirder or more complicated animes he nods along but honestly he gets so lost ("so like, lemme get this straight, the kids dad's wife ate his mom?" "yeah but like she was turned into a titan so she didn't realllllly know it was the dads wife, but like she literally walks past this titan shifter so i think she knew." "thats crazy.") and he will never understand the point of otome games when hes literally right there. he actually has a really bad habit of getting jealous of characters you have a crush on but you just find it funny. sometimes he gets an ego boost when they look like him because even if they look like him he is actually real so they can suck it.

hes rlly supportive tho. erens a rlly passionate person and he loves you a lot so he pours a lot of passion into what you do. if you are into esports/fps games hes cheers you on all the time and does all the raging for you ("BABE THAT GUY IS STREAM SNIPING! HES STREAM SNIPING YOU HEY ASSHOLE STOP CHEATING OFF MY GIRLFRIEND" "eren he cant stream snipe me because i dont stream" "oh i thought that just meant cheating"/"WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL HER?" "eren its okay i can just report him" "NO NO LET ME AT HIM IF HE WANTS TO CALL YOU A BITCH I CAN CALL HIM MUCH WORSE" "um guys im gonna mute my mic for a second if you need me text chat") if youre into cozy games he likes to watch you play and gives you ideas on where to put things. like in minecraft he makes you put a second bed for him even though he doesnt play and he helps you name all your pets. you get a little less intense with cozy games so you sit on his lap and he lets his hair down puts his head on your shoulder and points at where you should place stuff. he still rages though? this is eren jaeger we are talking about. ("aw, she wont move to my island." "WHAT? who does that little ugly squirrel think she is? you think youre too good for MY y/n's island? i'll shave your unibrow off. then we'll see what island will want you" "leave hazel alone! shes cute!"/"dude that hamster guy with the glasses looks like armin" "graham? what? armin doesnt even wear glasses" "no no look at it more" "oh shit youre right") rpgs/otome games are kinda a wild card with how he acts. if its an otome game and the character looks like him he is more into helping you out because it reaffirms to him that you find him good looking but otherwise he is just sulking and calling them annoying ("princess y/n... i know im just a servant, but i want to be with you forever!" "pft. get a load of this guy. clingy much?" "its romantic! youre jealous.")

one of his favorite things to do with you is cuddle and watch anime. usually he lies his face on your thighs or chest while watching and you play with his hair or he holds you in his chest and you play with one of his hands while the other goes behind his head. he grew up on some of the classics like naruto sailor moon one piece pokemon and dbz but he never got super into it until he started dating you. you put him on to soooo many good shows (cartoons, anime, and live action) hes both a crier and he is a get-angrier(?). he gets mad on characters behalfs and you have to pause the show so he can rant about how annoying someone is or he feels so bad for someone so he has to take a minute because hes tearing up. he likes slice of life anime because the friendships <3 theyre so wholesome and they remind him of him armin and mikasa but he also likes shounen because it is entertaining to watch fights. he gets really into them actually. he also has this really bad habit of whenever there is a character with no parents or a dead mom he goes "oh same" or "welcome to the club buddy" under his breath. when theres a cute couple in an anime you both like guys get matching keychains of them unless one of them dies because he thinks its bad luck. his favorite animes are haikyuu, your lie in april and code geass.

you are equally supportive of erens volleyball career. you know all the rules because sports anime and you actually find yourself really liking it in 3d as well (it is lacking in bromance and screaming but you let it slide). you go to all his games and he always texts you before his practices. has a habit of kissing you before games and one day after he kisses you go "gg ez win" as a JOKE but then they like decimate their long time rival marley university and get into nationals (is that a thing for volleyball idk sports) so hes convinced its because you did your "gamer magic". now every time after getting his good luck kiss he interlocks your pinkies and you go "gg ez win" and he goes “yes.” because to this day he doesnt know what it means (he thinks googling it is like breaking the magic)

okay im gonna stop while im ahead BECAUSE I COULD TALK ABOUT THIS ALL DAY I MIGHT JUST GO AHEAD AND WRITE SOME ONESHOTS....

[kiribaku-queen]

The Blood King and his Queen [7]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Romance, Angst, Drama

Word count: 2.4K

Summary:  From being a mere servant girl to marrying the scariest prince in existence, your world changed right before your eyes. Exchanging places with the princess, you knew, wasn’t going to be easy. But could you have found love on the way? Or was it never meant to be?

A/N: I hope you guys really enjoy this chapter because I think its my favorite chapter so far! FYI, if I don't update this series in a while, it'll be because I am working on an 18+ oneshot for a collab for Bakugou's birthday. So if that does happen, the regular uploads will happen after Bakugou's birthday. And let me tell you, its going to be S P I C Y~

But I can't express how surprised I am by all the love I'm receiving! I really wish I could respond to all your comments, but again, this is my side blog so I can't comment! If ya'll want to follow me on my main... please dont. LOL not to be mean or anything but I don't use my main at all and I don't post ever so there's no point in following me there :)

PLEASE ENJOY AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAG! JOIN THE FAMILY!

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Your heart physically dropped when he said that. You felt sick. Your palms were sweating and shaking. The air around you grew dense and you felt like you couldn’t breath. You couldn’t move for that matter.

Ruin?

What would he do to you if he found out that you weren’t really a princess? That you were a fake lying to him this whole time. It made you sick, just imaging every cruel thing he could do once he found out. But then you remembered, he wasn’t like all the rumors you heard. He was different. He was kind and understanding. He wouldn’t really ruin you if he found out, would he? You shook away the thought. The more you think about it, the more you were likely to get caught.

You were completely exhausted from all that labor you produced in a week’s time. Town after town, you were able to help his people even if it was just a little bit. But it sure depleted a lot of energy out of you. You don’t know if you’ve ever been this drained before in your entire life. It’s not like you had to do hard physical labor back at the palace. This experience was hard on you but also gave you insight on the prince and his kingdom.

Completely drained of your energy, you sat down on one of the tree trunks his soldiers brought for you at the camp not far away from the village you were at. The impoverished village didn’t have enough shelter as is, so you were left with no option but to set up your own shelter. It wasn’t a big deal to you anyway since that’s how you’ve been spending your nights so far.

All the soldiers had gathered around to take a breather for the night and drink away the stress. You weren’t a drinker, but enjoyed the atmosphere the soldiers created: fun and rowdy, like they didn’t give a care in the world. They were dancing on tables, clinking their drinks together, singing songs while hooking their arms around each other’s shoulders.

You laughed at the sight and stretched out your arms. How you wanted to continue the night away but your muscles were soar and aching. A physical exhaustion that you weren’t used to and didn’t want to get used to.

Bakugou was watching his crew from the door, arms crossed and enjoying his crew have fun. He was never the one to be center of attention, so he had his own fun from the back. He saw the way you extended your arms, faced wincing from how sore you were. Cute. It was your last night of volunteer work, why not end the night with something special?

You felt the Blood Prince’s breath sneak up behind your neck, sending chills down your spine.

“Tired?” he asks.

“Maybe just a little,” you admit. You look up at him and he’s giving you those soft yet piercing eyes. He goes to sit next to you and everything is just… peaceful. In that moment you felt content. You felt free. If this was how life was out of the palace, if this was more to life than just serving a spoiled princess, then you didn’t want to leave.

“I am impressed, princess,” Bakugou spoke. “This whole trip, you never, not once sat out. You helped the whole time. Are you sure you’re a princess?” he side eyed you.

“If I am not a princess, then what am I?” you asked back. (y/n), what are you doing? You could expose yourself and everything would be ruined! But for some reason, you wanted to be selfish. You wanted to know his reaction and how he would respond. Maybe you would give up your whole mission for him.

“An innocent and hardworking beauty that is not a princess. She is my future queen who will help me restore this kingdom.” He came closer to you, meaning every single word. Your eyes softened and you got emotional, almost to the point of tears. He’s smiling at you, but suddenly gets up. But gestures for you to take his hand. Of course you did.

“I want to show you something,” he says and leads you away from the crowd of people and into the woods.

You two were walking for a while, your hand in his the whole way. He hadn’t told you where he was leading you to but it had to be something special if he was dragging you to what seemed like all across the country to get to your destination.

“Your highness, are we almost there yet?” you asked, fatigue hitting you once again.

“Almost,” he responds, continuing to look ahead. You huffed and held on tight to his hand so you didn’t get lost or left behind. After a few more minutes of walking, you felt the air get hotter and thinner. Bakugou smiles in front of you, looking excited.

“We’re here,” he announces. He pulls back these huge leaves, revealing a natural hot spring. The water was clear enough that you could see right through it, steam rising from the water, and rocks surrounding it, creating this gorgeous, peaceful atmosphere. Your eyes lit up and a loud gasp escaped your lips.

“How did you find this place?” you asked, getting closer to the hot spring.

“You like it? None of my men know about this place,” he says.

“It’s beautiful!” you continue to gasp, feeling the water with your hands. The heat of the water made you giddy and you couldn’t wait to hop in.

“You deserve it,” Bakugou comes up to, whispering in your ear. His statement made you blush, but this time, you didn’t hide it. He smirks behind you and you heard something falling to the floor. You dare turn around to see Bakugou shirtless, discarding his clothes one by one. As if your face wasn’t hot enough, steam was coming out of your ears with embarrassment.

“What are you doing?” you freaked out, turning around immediately.

“Getting in,” he said in the most obvious tone of voice.

“Together?”

“You’ll be on one side and I’ll be on the other,” he points out a huge rock, separating the hot spring into two pools. That seems a little better, but the idea of soaking in a hot spring together with the prince was nerve wracking.

“Princess, you can enter first, if that makes you feel better,” he suggested. When you turn to look at him, he already had his back turn out of respect for you.

So you undress and enter the heated water, noticing that all your muscles relaxed and the aches started going away as soon as you hit the water. You lean the back of your head on the rock and allow yourself to fully relax and destress. You could hear water splashing from the other side of the rock, indicating that Bakugou had also entered the water. Humming in satisfaction. You grew deeper and deeper in the hot spring until your nose was sitting on top of the water.

“Princess, I realize that I don’t know your name,” Bakugou spoke. Your name? You stayed silent. Was it wise to use your own name or should you continue to play as the princess?

“(y/n).” you decided.

“(y/n),” Bakugou repeated, elongating your name as if he stopped saying it, it’d disappear from him forever. The way your name left his lips felt like butter to him. He couldn’t help himself from repeated your name over and over again in his mind. You giggled and looked over the rock, arms crossed and head resting over them.

“Your highness, allow me to scrub your back,” you offered. Bakugou waved his hand while shaking his head.

“Nonsense. You shall not attend to me. We’re here to relax,” he had to remind you. But you insisted.

“But I want to, Prince Bakugou,” you pouted, jutting out your bottom lip.

“The high and mighty princess wants to wash the blood Prince’s back?” he questions playfully. He glances back to see you resting on top of the rock, giving him your big doe eyes.

“If you insist,” he gave up. He turns his back again, making sure to give you the privacy you needed to be able to come over to his side. You make your way over to him, covering your breasts in case. When you got settled behind him, you started washing his back.

You expected Bakugou to have scars from his many battles he’s had, but you didn’t expect his back to be covered in decolored and deformed wounds. Unknowingly, your hands went up to caress each scar.

“Does that frighten you?” he asks.

“Not at all,” you tell him honestly. “I think it makes you very brave.”

A comfortable silence fell upon you. Only the sound of water running and insects in the background could be heard. That was until you felt poke your butt. The hairs on your body hiked and you screamed as loud as you could, rising from the water in panic.

“Princess!” Bakugou instinctively put protection mode on, shooting up from his place to see what the danger was. You immediately clung to him, Bakugou wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close. What Bakugou saw wasn’t an enemy but rather, a wild Japanese macaque monkey poking his head out of the water.

“Shoo!” Bakugou scared the monkey out of the water and back into the forest. Bakugou grunted and relaxed his shoulders. “Damn monkeys. I thought they only came out during the winter season. Are you okay, prin…cess,” he looked down at you only for you to look up at him with your exposed chest fully pressed against his chest. Now this could easily be the most embarrassing moment of your entire life. Your face heated up with embarrassment and you let out another scream, using all your force to slap him across the face. Bakugou wasn’t expecting such a reaction and it caught him off guard. You put for much force into the slap that Bakugou flew back and fell into the water. You ran out of the spring, covering up as fast as you could.

Bakugou had never been so flustered in his life. He was a blushing mess and now the image of your naked breasts on him could not escape his mind. He needed time to calm himself down and a certain friend from getting too excited.

When you both had returned back to the rest of the crew, everybody had been knocked out cold from the alcohol. Thank goodness, because they couldn’t see how awkward you two were at the moment. That night, you slept in the tent again while Bakugou camped outside.

But you couldn’t sleep. How could that situation happen to you, out of all people? You weren’t sure how much he saw of your naked body. Maybe he didn’t see anything at all. But you saw the expression on his face, he definitely saw something. You covered your chest and closed your eyes. To think that a man saw your body and it wasn’t even your wedding night.

You felt the wind enter your tent, the chill making you shiver. If it was cold inside the tent, it must be extra cold outside. Bakugou was sleeping outside. You bit your lip in confliction. You wanted him to be warm but that means you had to confront him. Ah, fuck it. You opened your tent and saw Bakugou resting on the grass with his cape wrapped around him. And it wasn’t doing a very good job because you could see him shivering. He couldn’t hide it no matter how hard he tried.

“Would you like to come inside?” you invite him in.

“It’s for you, princess,” he reminded you.

“I understand. But it’s too cold to be sleeping out here. Please. I insist,” you urged. He opens one eye and sighs.

“As you wish, princess,” Bakugou gave in. You scooted over to make room for the large man to sleep next to you. Bakugou made himself comfy but he was a tad too tall for the tent that he had to have his legs hanging out. The opening of the tent revealed the big, bright moon overhead.

“I’m sorry for hitting you,” you apologized. Bakugou just lets out a breath.

“It’s whatever. I didn’t see anything, by the way,” he reassures you. Embarrassed again, you unconsciously covered your chest.

“You sure?”

“Erased from my mind,” he says as he closes his eyes and moves his hands around his head, as if he was erasing his memory. You laugh at his antics, more comfortable with the mood that was created. Bakugou laughs with you and turns to you, meeting eyes. This is the nth time that his heart leapt when you stare at him with those innocent, childlike eyes. He clears his throat and all of a sudden, his ears got red.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” Bakugou professed. You blinked in confusion. You weren’t sure why he said that. Glancing up at the moon, you guess you could say that it was beautiful. It was a full moon, and shone brightly above your heads. You weren’t versed in the poetics so you couldn’t comprehend the message the Blood Prince was trying to get at you.

“The moon is especially beautiful tonight. But isn’t the moon beautiful every night?” you responded.

Bakugou looks are you in mortification. Fuck, did he just get rejected? His ears got hot and he covered his mouth with his hands.

“Yeah… yeah it is,” he agreed, embarrassed. He took a deep breath in and back out again to calm his beating heart. You look over at him to see him a little distressed. You softly smiled, another side you got to see of him. It was cute. You could feel your heartbeat starting to pick its pace up and that’s when you realized. Gathering up all the courage you could muster, you leaned over to kiss him on the cheek you slapped.

“Good night,” you quickly say, then turned over to face away from him. Bakugou stops everything in his tracks and is frozen. He couldn’t help but smile and fall asleep next to you.

The moment you made the decision to kiss him was when you knew that you wanted to be selfish. You wanted to become his queen and rule his kingdom together. You were going to forget your past life. You were going to forget this mission you were on. You were the princess now. That was his truth and you weren’t going to change it.

A/N: For those who don't know, the phrase "the moon is beautiful, isn't it" or 月が綺麗ですね is a more poetic way of saying "I love you" in olden Japanese. And then the response to that would be "I can die happy" or 死んでもいいわ. Just for reference.

As I said before, I absolutely love this chapter and I really really REALLY want to know your reactions and thoughts!

Spoiler: drama starts in the next chapter :)

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know in the comments or DM me! and if you'd like to be tagged when my 18+ oneshot comes out, let me know too! I love you all!

Tagged: @superblyspeedydragon @melasnchz-things @animexholic @bkgwrites @sam-i-am-1025 @apexqueenie @katsukibabe @germfart3 @tspice283 @angie-1306 @bakugous-trauma @bakugousmrs @random-fandom-girl-24 @monetfatalia @triviajeongin @readingslumpfanfic @softredrobin @briefhoundpartynickel @bnhahegao

[nerdywriter36]

To Help the Helpless

AO3

FFN

erik sees himself in all the sick, injured, and abandoned pets he sees in animal shelters and is determined to give them the love and comfort that they deserve in their time of need when he wasn't granted the same as a human being. christine and their friends could not be happier to help.

this concept was born out of a discussion about erik and his pets with @ofserien, so thank you to her for helping to bring this idea to life :) it's been so long so I've posted on here because of my hiatus, but the first oneshot I've written since officially returning to tumblr. i really hope you all enjoy it! likes and reblogs are always appreciated <3

~

"You brought in another one, Erik? Isn't your house full enough already?"

Erik simply rolled his eyes and turned to look back at Nadir, who was glancing at the variety of dogs and cats residing in their crates throughout his living room. "There is never too many rescues, Nadir, especially not when I'm taking them away from people who will put them down simply because they aren't getting adopted," he replied.

"And what's wrong with this one?" Nadir queried, gesturing to the puppy that his friend was carrying rather like a football - tucked against his side and laying along his forearm. "It looks fine to me."

"He had an old injury that was never fixed before he was turned in, so he doesn't look as perfect as people want," Erik said as he held the puppy up so Nadir could see his bowed front leg. "Otherwise, he is completely happy, energetic, and healthy, but people don't care. Looks are everything in this world."

His voice broke a bit, he noticed, and he knew that Nadir had heard it too. Every day was a different story when it came to how emotional he would get when it came to explaining why the animals had been abandoned and why their little lives were at risk. He hated that it still happened; he had been rescuing shelter animals for the better part of two years, not to mention the fact that most of his own struggles because of his appearance were behind him, but some days were simply harder than others.

He really was fortunate for all that he had to make his life as "normal" as possible, even with his physical differences. A prosthetic nose saved him far more grief than he believed people could understand and the mask he wore was so realistic and close to his skin tone, as remarkably pale as it may have been, that he hardly got rude stares anymore when he was out and about. It made quite the difference in his professional life as well; no one at the Paris Opera House wanted to accept compositions from a deformed freak, no matter their talent. His heterochromatic eyes were enough to put people off sometimes.

"I know, Erik, I'm sorry," Nadir piped up as he shot him a sympathetic smile. "I think what you're doing is great, you know that, I just worry about your stress levels. Not having to worry about you financially, but you're a composer making consistent contributions to the Paris Opera, you run an animal rescue, and now you have a girlfriend. That's a lot for one person!"

"Nadir, I'm fine," Erik replied, passing the puppy he held to his friend and smirking as it eagerly started to wiggle and lick at Nadir's neck and chin. "I'm managing it all, and having a girlfriend doesn't change much."

"Right, you say that now." Nadir turned his head away from the eager puppy, wiping his chin on his shoulder. "What is this thing anyway?"

"Australian shepherd, hence the energy." Making his way around the room, Erik checked the status of every food and water dish, but a buzz from his cell phone made him pause. As he pulled it out of his pocket, he couldn't help but smile when he saw a message from the new light in his life: Christine.

He still wasn’t exactly sure how he had gotten so fortunate as to have Christine in his life. After all, their first introduction had been at the Paris Opera House when he had nearly run her right over in his eager rush to leave the very same building. As intricate and realistic as his mask may have looked, he never enjoyed being out in public, and he knew that everything about him was under harsh scrutiny when it came to the committee of men taking his submissions and suggestions for the music at the Opera. He wouldn’t have become a successful composer, having his music played at one of the most prestigious opera houses in the world, without them, but with the way they stared at him whenever he walked in, it certainly wasn’t easy to face them.

“Is that the new light of your life?” Nadir asked with a smirk, watching the lovesick smile growing on his friend’s face. “What did she say?”

“Just ‘hi’,” Erik replied, his unmasked cheek already flushed pink as he replied to the message.

Nadir scoffed and set the puppy down in a small pen filled with blankets off to the side. “You are in deep, my friend. How long have you been dating, three months? And just ‘hi’ still manages to make you blush? Does she not make more flirtatious comments than just that?”

“Oh, like you were any different when you and Kheya first got together,” Erik retorted.

“Hey, now, that...that is not a fair comparison.”

It was his friend’s turn to blush and Erik laughed at the sight. Mockery aside, though, he genuinely was happy for Nadir; he had been through a rough patch before meeting Rookheeya one year before, his father's death hanging the heaviest over him and stealing so much of the joy that Erik knew was in him. Once he met her though, everything seemed to fall into place; Erik still remembered the moment Nadir practically choked on his drink when he first noticed her from across the room at a small gathering at the Garnier. She was a beautiful young woman who shared his faith, many of his interests and balanced out his almost painfully realistic views with the necessary imagination and optimism that he needed. A match made in heaven, if Erik were to pair a phrase to their relationship.

“Sure it is,” Erik replied, smirking when he caught a glimpse of Nadir’s lock screen as he pulled out his phone: a photo of the happy couple themselves, both smiling wide. “You’ve practically wanted to marry her since the moment you met, you’re lovesick.”

“Okay, I love my girlfriend, so sue me,” Nadir retorted. “And I will have you know that I plan on proposing in the next few days.”

“Well, it’s about time!” Erik said with a laugh, patting him on the back as the pair walked into the kitchen. “Congrats, Nadir, that’s amazing.”

“Thank you,” Nadir chuckled, crouching down to scratch the elderly golden retriever lounging under the kitchen table. “You and Christine have to catch up now.”

“No, no, this is no race. We are taking our time, I refuse to mess this up.”

“You aren’t going to mess it up, Erik.”

“I could. You remember how things ended with Lucy,” Erik said in a soft voice as he leaned over his countertop and scribbled on a notepad.

“That wasn’t your fault,” Nadir sighed. “She was a toxic mess, the end of your relationship was no fault of yours.”

Erik shrugged ever so slightly. “She ran off with some other guy and slept with him when we hadn’t even taken that step. I clearly did something wrong or she wouldn’t have left.” That breakup had hung over him like a dark, heavy cloud for weeks and still did at times. That said, the very same bout of depression and dejection had pushed him into the world of animal rescue that he still found himself in two years later, so for that he was thankful. Now, though, Luciana hardly ever crossed his mind; he had found someone to get him out and keep him out of that world of darkness.

“You didn’t, but anyhow, it doesn’t matter anymore. You have a girl that you love and who loves you, an amazing career, and an animal shelter in your living room. You’re doing alright for yourself,” Nadir pointed out. “Speaking of that, has Christie been over here yet? To meet the pack and all?”

“No, not yet. Believe me, it is on the list of things to do,” Erik replied, still scribbling away on his notepad as they spoke.

“That along with two hydrotherapy sessions, settling the new puppy in, getting groceries, working on your new composition, and going to see if you can pick up two tuxedo kittens. When do you have time to breathe, Erik?”

“In between everything. I manage just fine and I will slot Christine meeting everyone in. It’s a delicate process with some of these guys, you know that.”

Nadir scoffed. “Yes, I remember how slow it all was when you first introduced me,” he said, putting a hand up when his friend opened his mouth. “I know why it was slow, but that doesn't make it more enjoyable.”

“Right, well, unlike you, Christine is very patient, so it’ll be fine,” Erik replied. “She’s coming with me tomorrow to pick up those kittens, so I’ll probably ask her over after and try to introduce me.”

“Let’s hope it goes well. We wouldn't want you to have to choose between your lady friend and your pets. I don't know if you’d survive that.”

"Thank you for helping me today, Christine," Erik said, smiling over at his sweetheart, who sat beside him in the front seat of his car with two tuxedo kittens on her towel-covered lap (she had insisted on the towel, even though his car was covered with fur on practically a daily basis). "These two seem like a very sweet little pair. I doubt I'll have trouble finding them homes."

"Why weren't they getting adopted just at the shelter?" Christine inquired, an inquisitive frown on her face as she turned to him for an answer.

Which he did not really have, so he simply shrugged. "They don't let enough time pass to give people a chance, frankly. Not to mention that this would mean adopting two kittens at once, what with how closely bonded they are, and not everyone is willing to take on that kind of commitment."

"It doesn't seem like too much trouble." Christine looked back down at the kittens, her sweet giggle escaping her as one of them mewed and set its paws on her chest to get closer to her, almost inspecting her. "Hello there. You're not trouble, are you? You're just a sweet little baby."

Erik couldn't help but chuckle when he heard the voice she put on to talk to the animal - a light tone, using grammatically incorrect sentences, almost as if she were speaking to a baby. Which she was, in a sense.

"You'll have to help me name them. I name so many animals that I end up running out of options after a while."

"One of them - the boy, that is - should be...Sylvester. Like from Looney Tunes! He looks just like him, it's too good to pass it up!"

"A very good choice, I think," Erik nodded as he began the drive towards his home. "I'm not sure about the girl yet. Perhaps I'll call her Christine."

His girlfriend scoffed and glanced over at him. "Erik, you can't suggest naming any and every female animal you bring into your house after me."

"Why not? I like your name."

"I know you do, but once you get to Christine the Eighth or whatnot, there's a problem."

He couldn't help but laugh; her sense of humour and mild sarcasm had been part of what had endeared her to him in the first place. "I suppose there might be. I do like your name, though, I wouldn't mind it too much."

"Yes, I know that, and if we ever had a daughter, she would be Christine Junior, I know how much you like my name." She giggled again, and he noticed her look over at him in his periphery; he was just glad that he had his mask on so she wouldn't notice him blushing at the thought of sharing a child with her. "You need some new options."

He tried to shrug nonchalantly. "I...I just think it's a nice name. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman," he said softly.

The comment must have been the right one, as he was rewarded with a quick peck on the cheek. "You're very sweet," Christine replied as she turned back to the kittens and stroked their backs as they cuddled together on the towel. "So once we drop these little ones off, I suppose you'll just take me home? I'm sure you'll have lots to do."

There it was - his opportunity to make the offer to her to finally come over so he could truly introduce her to his life in its entirety rather than trying to hide parts of it. A glance over at her was enough to tell him that she was disappointed at the idea of having to go home, as she so often was, and he hated to upset her, so he would do his best to fix it as best he could at that moment.

"Actually, I was thinking...would you like to come in today?" he asked, looking at her briefly again and smiling a bit when she looked back at him, wide-eyed and shocked at the question. "I'll have to settle these two in, but I would love to-"

"Yes," she replied, cutting him off rather abruptly. "Yes, I would love to. Do I have to do anything? Not do anything? Can I help with anything, wh-what can I do?"

"Just be yourself," Erik said, unable to stop a quiet laugh from escaping him at seeing how enthusiastic she was. "Your sweet, gentle, caring self, my dear. That is all that I can ask of you when it comes to meeting the little pack that I have at home."

"That much I can do," Christine said with a firm nod, clearly very dedicated to her mission. "Thank you, Erik."

He frowned. "What for?"

"For trusting me with this, with meeting them. I know that their health and security means a lot to you, so knowing that you trust me to come in and make myself a new part of that arrangement that you have really means a lot to me."

"Of course I trust you, my darling. I...I love you." The phrase still felt foreign in his mouth after not using it for so long after losing Lucy, but he was making an effort to use it as often as he possibly could with Christine; she meant more to him than anyone ever had before and she deserved to hear that from him.

"I love you too," Christine said with a warm smile on her face. "Come on, then, drive! I have puppies to meet!"

~

"Are you ready, Christine?" Erik asked from where he stood at the end of the hallway, having just collected a young bulldog puppy from her kennel and was presently walking towards the bedroom, of all places, where his sweetheart was waiting. An unconventional setting, yes, but there was a purpose to it.

"Of course I'm ready!" he heard her call back, her excitement practically dripping from her voice. "There's a puppy involved, how could I not be ready?"

"Alright, alright," he said with a quiet laugh as he stepped into the room, the puppy starting to squirm in his arms at the sight of the new person and the sound of Christine's giddy squeal. "This is Lily."

Christine gasped, a hand to her chest. "Lily, oh, how precious," she said with a giggle. "Can I hold her? Or would you prefer that I didn't?"

"No, you can hold her. She's generally good with people," Erik nodded, sitting next to his girlfriend beside his bed and setting the puppy on her lap. "Just watch her back legs."

"What's wrong with her?" Christine asked softly, looking at the puppy's legs that splayed out behind her rather than tucking beneath her to hold her body up.

"It's called swimmer's syndrome. They can't really say what causes it; some people think it's hereditary, others think it's because their environment as newborns kept them from getting around a lot, even others say it was because of defects before they were born, so I'm not entirely sure," Erik explained. "Still, as bad as it looks, it's treatable, which is why we are here in my room."

Scooping the puppy up again, he stood and walked a few steps away to a sling apparatus set up against the wall and slipped the puppy into it so she hung with her paws just above the ground. "She'll sit in the sling for about 20 minutes every day, and I'll just massage her legs and try to mimic walking motions with her. I do this a few times a day."

He carefully began to act on the same procedure he had just described, smiling as Christine stepped over to join him while he carefully rubbed the puppy's legs and helped her to move them the way she would if she were walking as she should. He knew that there was always a risk that the therapy he tried to do for the animals that were struggling wouldn't work, but he was going to try his best. Very few people had ever tried to help him throughout his life, so he thought he would allow the animals to have that, whether they knew they had it or not.

"How many others do you do this kind of thing for?" Christine softly asked a few minutes into the therapy session.

"A few. Whether it's for little ones like this who have defects of some sort or for older animals who struggle with arthritis and different things like that, therapy does a lot. I do this kind of thing, as well as hydrotherapy, which entails me getting very wet," Erik replied with a chuckle. "But it's worth it when I see the results. True, it doesn't always happen, and they end up turning into hospice cases more than anything, but if I can try and get them back on their feet, as happy and healthy as can be so they can go to a good home, then I'll do what I have to do to make that happen." He turned towards her and smiled just as she cupped his face in her hands and drew him into a gentle kiss, distracting him from his therapy session momentarily. "You are one of the most kind-hearted people I know. You know that, right?"

"You tell me that enough, so I suppose it carries some truth. It's never occurred to me much otherwise, though."

"Well, you had better believe it because it could not be more true," Christine said with a grin.

Erik couldn't help but chuckle as he gave her another quick peck on the lips. "If you are trying to earn yourself brownie points or extra kisses or something, I admire your effort, it just might work out in your favour," he replied, returning his attention to the puppy.

"Fantastic," she giggled, leaning her head on his shoulder and watching while he worked. "Did you have any other plans for the day for us? Dinner, perhaps?"

"Yes, I was hoping you would help me with dinner," Erik nodded, letting the offer hang for a moment before he added, "For the dogs and cats, that is."

"Ah yes, how romantic, exactly what I had in mind," Christine said with a laugh. "Filling food bowls. I can't wait."

Ever since Erik had given her the go-ahead to come over and spend time with himself and his little pack of rescue animals, Christine had taken full advantage of it. Whenever she could manage it, she was at his house, helping him with feeding and bathing all of the little pets in his care, keeping him company while he was cleaning, and even learning how to do hydrotherapy on a few of the dogs that happened to need it. A couple of months had already passed since that day, unbelievably, but she had cherished every second that she had gotten to spend with both Erik and all the animals in his care. She found herself getting close to every single one of them, and she could see how happy it made her sweetheart; Erik smiled even wider than he normally did when she was around, a photo of the two of them with one of his eldest dogs - a golden retriever named Buddy - had become the photo on the lock screen of his phone while others had been printed and framed on his wall. She knew that he had had little joy in his life, but if she could contribute to that happiness along with allowing him to pursue one of his passions, then she would happily support it.

Getting to play with cute puppies and kittens while she was at his house was a nice perk too.

A short while into the arrangement - about a month after Christine herself had been introduced, - she had convinced Erik to let Meg have a gentle introduction of her own to all the animals he cared for. Her roommate had just about lost her mind when she had found out that she had finally gotten to meet all of her boyfriend's pets and hadn't stopped begging her to get Erik's permission for her to meet them until she had finally agreed to give it a shot.

Erik had been hesitant at first, that much was for certain, but she promised him that Meg knew how to keep calm and quiet when she had to be. Eventually, with a slightly skeptical expression on his face, he had agreed to allow her over to meet some of the animals, much to Meg's delight.

As Christine had predicted, the introductions had gone perfectly fine and Meg was quickly scooped up into the little pack Erik seemed to be steadily building. Their visits brought them closer to the animals, to Erik, as well as to Nadir and Rookheya, Erik's best friend and his fiancée. There was something endearing about seeing her sweetheart interacting with someone other than just herself; she knew that he did it for work and all, but watching him so at ease and laughing with his closest friend warmed her heart, even if Nadir didn't seem completely at ease around the animals in the house. For a while, their little group was complete and happy, enjoying every moment they had.

But not every joyful moment could last, unfortunately.

It was the middle of the night when she got the first phone call. Her ringer was quiet, true, but it lulled Christine out of her sleep, though she didn't bother to look at the screen to see who was calling. 'Whatever scam caller it is can just leave a message for me to delete,' she thought to herself as she rolled over onto her side and buried her face in her pillow to attempt to fall back to sleep.

Her phone fell silent for just a moment, but within moments, it had started ringing again.

With a huff, Christine sat up and grabbed her phone, squinting at the brightness of the screen, and saw her boyfriend's name and picture on her screen, which made her frown. It was just past two in the morning, why would he be calling her? Her heart was already racing a bit as she pressed the green 'Answer' button and held her phone to her ear.

"Hello? Erik, what's going on?"

Hiccuping breaths were what she heard first, which only serve to worry her more. "C-Christine, come over," Erik finally managed to say, his voice choked with tears. "Buddy is...something's wrong, please come over."

"Okay, it's okay. I'll be right there and I'll bring Meg with me," she replied, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible despite her own worry about the dog that she'd become so close with. "Have you called Nadir?"

"He's here already. Rookheya too," Erik said, sniffling quietly. "Just please come over, Christine, please."

"Okay, okay, I'm coming. I'll be there as soon as I can. I love you."

Not hearing a response from Erik told her how distracted and worried he was - he always returned her affections, and she wasn't even offended by the lack of reciprocation; she was only worried.

Christine quickly climbed out of bed, deciding not to bother changing out of her pyjamas given how warm it was outside and only grabbing a pair of socks to quickly slip on. Throwing open her bedroom door, she hurried next door to Meg's room, walked inside and over to her bed to shake her gently. "Meg. Meg, get up, come on."

She rolled her eyes when her friend simply moaned sleepily and pulled her covers over her head. "Meg, please get up. Erik just called me, something's wrong, we have to go over there."

That was enough to make Meg's eyes open rather quickly and she moved the blankets to look up at her friend. "What's happening?" she asked.

"I don't know, all I know is that it's Buddy and Erik is crying, so it's bad," Christine replied with a sigh. "Please get up so we can go."

"Okay, I'm up. Go get your shoes on, I'll be down in a sec," Meg said, clambering out of bed and shuffling past her friend to get dressed.

Within minutes, the two of them were in Christine's car driving towards Erik's house, the open roads with that time at night helping their travel immensely. Not knowing what was wrong was driving Christine half-mad, though she was drawing some unfortunate conclusions, considering the animal that was involved. If she was right, it made sense why Erik had sounded so upset; she knew how much he loved that dog.

"Nadir just texted you," Meg said softly, looking at her friend's phone while she couldn't do so herself. "Asking if we're going to be there soon."

"Just tell him that we will be. That I'm driving as fast as I can without risking getting arrested in the process," Christine said, managing a quiet laugh.

She saw her friend nod as she typed away, the clicking of the keys the only sound in the car. A moment later: "He says, 'As long as you hurry. Get here before'..." Meg trailed off at that, making Christine turn to look at her.

"Before what? What did he say?"

"'Before we lose him.'"

Christine's heart seemed to leap into her throat and, without a word, pushed her foot down ever so slightly harder on the gas pedal, just praying they'd arrive in time.

~

The two young women burst through the house's front door as soon as they arrived, Christine making use of her spare key. She didn't even need to wonder where everyone else would be; she knew that Erik kept that golden retriever by his bedside every night so that he could monitor him. Nothing had ever happened before that had warranted any action, but something had obviously changed that night. Drastically.

Bolting up the stairs with Meg right behind her, she quickly arrived at her boyfriend's room, which was completely dark save for his bedside lamp, and her heart sank when she saw him in the middle of the floor holding Buddy in his arms, Nadir and Rookheya close by.

"Erik, I'm here," she whispered as she moved to sit beside him and wrapped an arm around his waist. "I came as fast as I could, what's happening?"

"I don't know," Erik replied with a sniffle, stroking the dog's fur as he spoke. "They said he had more time. Not much, but more than this, I don't understand."

His words were drowned out by his tears as he leaned forward and buried his face in the retriever's fur, so Christine simply hushed him and rubbed his back. "I know, I'm sorry," she said with a quiet sigh. "You've done so much for him and for all the animals you take care of, Erik, you have to remember that. Whatever happens tonight is not a result of what you've done, you have done everything possible for him."

"Not enough, though. This wouldn't be happening if I had done enough," Erik managed to say through his tears, a sob slipping out of him.

Christine's own throat tightened up hearing the heartbreak spilling over through his words, so she was fortunate that Nadir shuffled over, set a hand on his friend's back and took on the role of the comforter from her; she couldn't trust herself not to cry, so she simply focused on trying to give the elderly dog as much love as she could possibly convey.

"Erik, you know it isn't your fault," Nadir said softly. "He's ill and I know that you've known that for a while now; you always knew he was going to be a hospice case from the beginning. You have to keep that in mind because if you don't, I know that you will blame it on yourself and you can't do that. He's had a wonderful life with you."

"He's right, Erik, you've given him so much," Christine said, finding it in her to dry a few stray tears and contribute to the conversation again. "He's had a beautiful life here with you, he knows that you love him."

Erik's only response was a nod as he lifted his head enough to gently kiss the top of the dog's head. "I love you, Buddy. We all do," he whispered, trying to force a smile as the dog turned his head to glance up at him, and Christine noticed Erik move his hand to rest over the dog's chest, clearly to feel for his heartbeat and wait for when it inevitably ceased. Not knowing exactly what else to say, she simply set her hand over her sweetheart's resting her head on his shoulder as everyone simply waited for the inevitable.

It didn't take long, in the end, and Erik didn't say a word; the way he muffled a sob and leaned over the dog to hold him to his chest told everyone what they needed to know. Christine hadn't quite expected to get as emotional as she did. She knew that she was attached to all of Erik's animals and that even the thought of her love in pain made her heart ache, but there had been something different this time. Erik had loved Buddy probably more than any of his other rescues, and she had a strong feeling that that love had been mutual.

It turned out that she wasn't the only one getting emotional; she had expected to see a few tears from Meg, and there they were, but looking over at Erik's other friends, she found Rookheya with her face tucked in the crook of Nadir's neck, the slight shake of her shoulders the only clue that she was emotional, while even Nadir - Nadir 'I don't like pets much' Khan - had tears in his eyes. Whether it was Buddy's death or Erik's reaction that had made him cry, she couldn't tell, but the show of empathy for what his friend was going through was something that she appreciated and knew that Erik would too.

Quickly drying her cheeks, she leaned over and gently kissed Erik's cheek. "I'm so sorry," she whispered as she reached up and gently wiped his tears away. "But you gave him such a beautiful life, just like you're doing for all the others you're caring for. They needed someone and you were there to rescue them. I'm so proud of you for that, and Buddy was proud too."

Erik managed a weak smile as he turned to look at her, leaning forward just enough to press his forehead to hers. "Do you think so?" he croaked.

"I know so, my darling. I have no doubt of it."

[p---ink]

White.

Author’s Note: First Chris Oneshot. It was supposed to be a blurb/drabble, but I think its a bit too long for that now. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this filth. Also you ever get that feeling, where you feel like you've came up with an idea in your head originally, but also feel like you may have seen it somewhere else? Yea that's how I feel about this piece. So if you've read something similar to this, please link it and let me know so I can edit or delete this post altogether.

Summary: Chris greets you after a long day at work, with some TLC.

Word Count: 2.9k.

Warning: Fluff and Smut. Oral (female receiving), fingering, Semi-mean Daddy Chris, over-stimulation, multiple orgasms, and I think...maybe that’s it? Please let me know if I forgot something.

Disclaimer: Gif is not mine. 

“The kids are asleep?” You whispered, when he held his finger to his lips upon your arrival. 

“Yea, I just laid Ezra down. That is one rowdy little person.” He said chuckling, leaning down to plant a kiss on your mouth. He held you by your waist to pepper more along your face. 

“Chris baby, you are a God-send.” You sighed, leaning in to his touch. “You will not believe the shitty day I had.”

“Hold that thought and take a seat, doll” he ordered, urging you towards the living room by your shoulders. “I’ll be right back.” He promised. 

You sighed as you threw your work bag down on the love chair beside you, kicking your shoes off in the process.  When you crossed the room to drop down on the sofa, the weight of today’s events crushed you instantaneously, as you waited for your husband to return. 

You’ve been married for six years, and he’s been good to you for all of them. Great even. He always listened, and almost never complained. How could he when he was usually away, due to his job? 

He was forever busy with filming, press tours and whatnot. It made him feel guilty to leave you and your sons so often. So any time he was at home for a break, he took full advantage. He spent time with his boys, and then the rest with you, spoiling you all with his love. 

Preoccupied with your stress, you almost failed to notice Chris taking a seat in front of you. He took hold of one of your legs, and that’s when you noticed your spa-kit placed next to him. 

“Baby, you don’t have to do this.” You cried, scrunching your face in relief when he rubbed your calf in just the right spot.

Chris flashed those pretty baby blues at you, along with that signature smug smirk. “You know I do. And you know I want to.” He said, before dousing his hands with oil. 

As he firmly massaged the coconut into your skin, you couldn’t help but marvel at him. Taking a pillow into your arms to hug, and hide your giddy smile, you reply with, “What I did I do to deserve you?”

“Well I would tell you, but I don’t have enough time, because you’ve got to tell me about what’s got my girl so upset.” He informed you with a stern look that read who do I have to kill? “Before you do that,” he started, placing your newly moisturized leg down before grabbing the other, “Choose a color.” 

You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, peering over to take a look into the open basket. It had an assorted amount of different nail polishes and products for nail care. Your favorite color currently decorated the bottom of the basket, and it made you recall the time your oldest son Jeremy spilled its contents over while playing a game of “paint” about a week ago. That boy. You thought, shaking your head playfully. Well I guess I won’t be choosing that one. 

After a moment of close examination, and scrutiny, you chose “White”, which made Chris immediately stop his measures against your legs, to peer up at you through hooded lids. 

“So its one of those days, huh.” He smirked. “I was hoping you’d pick that one.”

“What do you mean by that?” You questioned. You hadn’t known he preferred certain colors on you. 

“I’ll tell you later, but first tell me about your day baby.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice. You were dying to get it all off your chest.  You spilled out your hearts content, as your husband massaged your legs, then your feet, and in between your toes. As he delicately removed the old paint from your last session, and proceeded to paint your feet, you were almost finished relaying the message. 

“…and its just like they treat me like I’m insane! But you know what? The way i’m always overlooked, and ignored, makes me feel like I am going insane. Every time I suggest an idea, its stupid. But let some asshat say the exact same thing, and they praise him like a god.” You complain, rolling your eyes, at your memories from your work day. 

Chris offered you the occasional nod or two, humming softly at your cries of frustration when needed. And as much as he wanted to offer his two cents on the matter, he knew that what you wanted most was to be heard. You just wanted to be listened to. And while you wouldn’t of minded him beating their asses, he knew you needed his tenderness. His love. His care. And so that’s what he gave you. 

“And you know why they do it right? It’s because I’m a woman! A black one at that. Lord Jesus, it pisses me off so much.” You sigh, finally bringing your eyes down to him, after they had been trained on the air and nothingness around you; you had a habit of re-living stories as you told them. “But honey, this has really helped out a lot.” You say, cupping his chin lovingly. 

“You know I’ll do anything for you doll. And fuck those sons of bitches. They’re idiots if they can’t see how amazing you are. If you quit, like I suggested a while ago, that’ll really show ‘em.” Chris exclaimed, applying a second coat of white.

“Now you know I love what I do. I just wish I was more appreciated is all!” 

He gave you a sympathetic look before saying, “well you know me and the boys appreciate you.”, running his fingers along the ridges of your toes to remove the misapplied dye on your skin. 

“I know you do baby. I mean look at what you’re doing for me now.” You said, gesturing towards the care he took with your feet. 

Chris just smiled in response. He only felt slightly defeated when you rejected his idea to stay at home. You told him many stories about the jerks you worked with. You were among one of the only women at your company, and you paid for that fact daily. You told him, how they would talk to you, and treat you, even though you had the same amount, if not more experience as they did. He didn’t want you to have to put up with that. He wanted you to kick your feet up and enjoy the life he would provide for you and the kids you both created. But, like the supportive husband he was, he honored your wishes to pursue your passions. He knew that was what made you happier at the moment. The time would come, where he could spoil you completely, though. 

“Speaking of this,” You started, motioning towards your feet once more. “What’d you mean when you said “So it’s one of those days, huh”” You asked, putting on your best impression of him. 

Chris put on a smile that could light up a room, as a deep throaty chuckle erupted from his chest, and vibrated through your body via your feet. “Is that what you think I sound like? No matter, I’ll tell you what I meant. I can predict exactly what it is you need, and how you feel, based on the nail polish color you choose.” He said confidently, picking up a clear polish to apply the final coat.

“Is that right?” You ask, failing to take him seriously, even when he flashed that cocky grin and brow twitch that he often used to back his claims. “You’re so full of shit.”

“Seriously. I can. Listen.” He informed you, opening the clear polish, and brushing the access paint along the insides of the bottle. “I can prove it.”

“Fine! Go ahead.” You state, becoming intrigued.

Delicately holding your left foot against his knee, he starts explaining his theory while applying polish. “You see, when you choose a pale blue or orange, I know you just wanna forget about things with a movie or a cuddle session. Forest green or black, when you feel like throwing a couple of shots back with your girls at a bar. Mauve and a nude of any kind are your favorites, and you request them when you need to feel in control, classy, or sophisticated. And you always choose a soft pink, or yellow, when you need a happy reminder, or a burst of energy and inspiration. Lavender, is a color I wish you’d choose more, since it represents your happiness. Gray, is a color I wish you’d choose less, since it means you’re sad. And then there’s plum purple and candy apple red, two colors I can’t get enough of. You want those, when you’re feeling sexy. See, baby I can read you like an open book.” He declared, moving on to your second foot. Feeling quite sure of himself. 

You just stared at him in awe. Then you realized he didn’t mention, the one he just spent  ten minutes applying. “You forgot about white.”

“Oh I didn’t forget angel.” He corrected, smirking as he finally finished painting both feet. “I’m just waiting on your toes to dry.” After he says this, he begins to sensually blow cool air on your toes. 

“Chris! Tell me what it means!” You pout playfully, growing fed up with his secrecy. Also tickled from the air he blew. 

“Fine. But be quiet, you don’t wanna wake those little demons.” He warned, fixing you with a stern look that made you erupt into quiet giggles. He always made you laugh with his juxtaposed funny-seriousness. He was seriously funny. “White is my absolute favorite. You wanna know why? Its simple, and doesn’t drown out your pretty personality. It goes with every outfit, purse, and hairstyle. You wear this color, when you’re frustrated. Exasperated. Annoyed. You choose white, when you need me to wrap those pretty little legs around my neck, so I can make you cum till kingdom come. Or until you see, ‘white’. Whichever comes first”. He finished, staring at you seriously all of the sudden. A thick silence had befallen the two of you, and you almost didn’t know how to escape it. 

After a moment, you break out into a smile, despite Chris’ unmoving features. “Are you sure that’s what I want? Or is it something you want?”

“It’s what you need.” He affirmed, finally matching your expression, only his smile held a lot more lust than yours. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“I’ll tell you something alright, Chris. I think you paint my nails entirely too much.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, moving to pack up the spa kit, before saying “So in other words I’m right.” He rises to his feet, peering down through his long lashes with a knowing grin, before turning to leave the room. But not without saying, “Don’t worry baby, I’ll give you what you need.” Leaving you an anxious mess.

You start squirming in your seat, waiting with anticipation for him to return. You try to sit in your sexiest pose, but it makes you feel awkward. Then you start to wonder if you should remove your underwear. But you know he likes doing that. You even wonder if you smell okay, after such a long day at work. A million thoughts race through your mind, and you barely register his presence when reenters the room. You slightly jump, when you feel his warm hands brush against the nape of your neck.

“Shit baby.” Chris laughs, as he rounds the couch. “I knew it was bad, but I didn’t realize how bad. Let daddy, handle this for you.” He says kneeling back in front of you, knees tucked firmly under his person. He smoothes his hands over the expanse of your soft supple skin, leaving a burning trail of desire in his wake. When he hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties, your breath hitches as the cool air hits your moistened sex. 

You lift your thighs and legs, so he can carefully remove the lace without ruining his handwork on your feet. When Chris surveys your dampened panties and inhales their scent, his grin grows wider. “You’re already this wet for me?” 

He gives you no time to answer as he’s pulling you closer to his face, by your thighs. The sudden movement caused a whimper to escape your throat, soft sound making his cock harden. He’s working his kisses up against your thighs with a quickness, ready to produce more sounds like the last. 

Your head’s position on the couch has you feeling a bit awkward, and you go to say  “This is uncom—” but cut yourself off with a moan, as he dives his thick tongue between your petals, writing love notes against the skin.

“What’s that, doll?” Chris asks, hot breath dangerously close to your bud.

You just mewl in response, wetting his beard with your juices, as he eats you like you’re his last meal. “Right there baby.” You groan, grinding yourself against his mouth when his tongue darts against your nub. 

“Right here?” He questions softly, repeating the same gestures, sending a jolt through your body that makes you buck against his face. 

Your words leave your throat, as he sucks harshly against the problem areas, shocks of pleasure emitting through your person. And just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, he adds his fingers. First two, but then three as he starts fucking your pussy. 

“D-daddy!” You cry, voice coming out shaky as you writhe against his lips and fingers. His actions have you climbing up the couch. 

Then he removes his lips, warning you to keep quiet. “My babies are upstairs, I’m gonna need you to keep your pretty mouth shut.” He commands, placing your soaked panties between your lips. 

As he quickens the pace of his fingers, and makes his tongue dart from left to right relentlessly against your clit, you approach your first orgasm of the night, and he knows it too, when your hole clenches around his fingers. 

He smiles, and tells you how proud of you he is, but he isn’t done with you yet. 

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Your muffled moans ring through your ears, as you clamp your teeth down around your underwear. Your jaw was becoming slack from keeping it open so long, and you were feeling sore.

Chris was still continuing his assault against your sex. He had long moved from his position on the floor, and now sat beside you on the couch. 

He had your legs sprawled open, keeping them from closing with one hand gripped on your thigh, and the other rubbed fast and hard circles against your clit, while he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

“What number was that one, baby? Five, six? I lost count after the third time, when you squirted on daddy’s chest.” He growled, biting his lip, as he quickened his pace against your nub. “Do you think you can do that again?”

You moaned in protest, shaking your head from left to right, as you approached another orgasm. You couldn’t take anymore pleasure, your sensitive bud was going through too much.

“What’s that baby? I can’t hear you.” He teased, face as serious as it could be. He was testing you. You knew not to remove the underwear, or you’d be there all night. When you made no moves to pull them out, he did it for you, a string of spit connecting your lips to the fabric.

You immediately pleaded with him to ease up. “Daddy I don’t think I-I can take an-nymore.” You cried, now a blubbering mess.

“You don’t think you can take anymore?” Chris repeated, mocking you. “Well that’s too bad. Daddy thinks his princess looks too pretty when she’s cumming. So suck it up, because I’m not stopping until we have to replace this couch.”

You  felt that familiar coil in your stomach again, threatening to snap, as you threw your head back. You were a sweating mess now. You had hair glued to your face, and neck, and your shirt was drenched, as it clung to your stomach. But still, it wasn’t quite as drenched as your pussy, thighs, and couch cushions were. 

Chris was as hard as a rock, but you knew if you touched him, he’d get angry. He wanted to play with you, until you were begging him to stop.

“What happened today at work again baby? What was it Chad said to you? I bet if I have you fucked out like this every night, I’d be the only man on your mind.” He whispered against your ear.

Your stomach began spasming, as you clenched painfully around nothing. This would be your last one too, before your body gave up. 

Tears streamed down your cheek, as you contorted your face into the sexiest expression Chris had ever seen. And then, just before your screams of pleasure could rip through your chest, he covered his mouth over yours, as you squirted all over his hands, your thighs, and stomach. When you finally opened your eyes, you could only see white, before your vision came back into focus.

Massaging the wet, between your folds, Chris bought his fingers up to your lips and said “open.” And you did, sucking all your juices from his digits without breaking eye contact. “Attagirl.” He praised, wiping your tears away. Feel better now?” He asked, small smirk playing on his lips.

You nod tiredly, throat dry from your previous activities.

He brushes your sweaty hair behind your ears before saying, “Good. Now, let’s paint those pretty pink walls white, too.” 

[kopikokun]

Pity Party Crasher༄ nakamoto yuta

↳ Just great. You’ve just been dumped at this stranger’s party and all you want to do is curl up in a corner and cry, which is... exactly what you do. To your surprise though, there’s been an uninvited guest to your pity party.

pairing: nakamoto yuta x reader

content: fluff, comfort fic, alcohol consumption

wordcount: 1912 words

author’s note: ehehe can you guys guess who yuta’s supposed to be? also, this is a little rushed which i hope you can forgive me for since it was supposed to be short but turned into a full oneshot

— 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝.

They don’t seem to stop. No matter how many times you swipe at your puffy eyes, the tears keep pouring down in a constant stream, falling in droplets onto the fabric of your costume and no doubt smearing your makeup beyond all repair.

  People are starting to stare, you realise which does nothing to boost your crumbling self-esteem at the moment. Nobody even bothers to approach you and ask you what’s wrong. All they do is ogle at you like you’re some sort of strange creature at the zoo. But then again, if someone walked up to you right now and asked you what’s wrong, you’d probably start bawling like a baby and humiliate yourself further. Even so, you wish at least someone here bothered enough to ask you if you were okay. Call it selfish, but you really wish you had someone to turn to right now.

All this extravagance does not faze you though. The second the toilet door locks with a click, shielding you from everybody’s eyes, you make a beeline towards the toilet--well, one of the two toilets--flip the lid shut and fall into it. You tuck your knees to your chest, burying your face as you finally allow a sob to wrack through you.

In the back of your mind, the self-assured, rational part of you knows that this is dumb. That foul man doesn’t deserve your tears after what he’s done. He doesn’t deserve even another ounce of your energy or another second of your time. He deserves absolutely nothing from you, and you know that for a fact, yet the tears are still hot and wet as they continuously trickle down your cheeks.

In the back of your mind, the self-assured, rational part of you knows that this is dumb. That foul man doesn’t deserve your tears after what he’s done. He doesn’t deserve even another ounce of your energy or another second of your time. He deserves absolutely nothing from you, and you know that for a fact, yet the tears are still hot and wet as they continuously trickle down your cheeks.

How embarrassing, you think. Here you are, looking nothing short of stunning in your Halloween costume, isolating yourself in some stranger’s bathroom, mascara running down your face all because your no good boyfri--ex-boyfriend,  stood you up and proceeded to dump you over text, leaving you completely alone at this party filled with people you’ve never met because he had pleaded for you to go. God, just thinking about it makes your blood boil.

  Your very own pity party is swiftly sabotaged when you hear the unmistakable sound of a shampoo bottle dropping and a barely whispered, “Crap!” coming from none other than the bathtub.

  At this sudden intrusion, you immediately lunge to your feet, grabbing onto the nearest available weapon (which is a hairbrush in your case) and soundlessly tiptoe towards the source of this mysterious sound.

  You pause, swallowing dryly. “Hello? Is there somebody there?”

  The shower curtains almost immediately slide open in response and a scream gets caught in your throat as you raise the hairbrush menacingly over your head, in what you think is the best position to strike this person in.

  “Woah! Oh my God, calm down!”

  The identity of the culprit is revealed, although upon seeing his face you still have no idea who he is and, more importantly, why he was hiding in the bathtub. The stranger has his hair dyed a bright, almost neon pink, and little equally as pink antennas sticking out of his head. It’s painfully obvious they’re handmade by how asymmetrical they look, but you applaud the effort. He has his hands up defensively as he peers at you with caution, like you’re some feral, untamed creature, though to be fair, you probably look like one. All this while, this weirdo is still perched in the bathtub.

  “What are you doing in here?” you hiss, letting the hand which was holding your makeshift weapon fall limp to your side. The man’s shoulders visibly loosen.

  “Look, I know how weird this looks--”

  “Yeah, no kidding.”

  “But I genuinely didn’t mean to be here and listen in on you,” he says. “In fact, I was here first.”

  While that statement is true, his argument just leaves you with more questions. “Okay, but why the hell were you camping out in the bathtub of all places? Who does that?”

  The man smiles sheepishly. “Look, I have my reasons.”

  You expect him to explain himself, but oddly, he keeps quiet. You tap your foot impatiently and cross your arms like a disappointed mother reprimanding their child. “Okay, well, do feel free to explain these reasons.”

  “Okay, well, you might want to take a seat for this one,” he says, gesturing to the toilet you were previously sat on, and you can’t help but snort. Nevertheless, you take this peculiar man’s advice and sit back down on the cold, hard toilet lid. “So, long story short, some guy out there really wants to kill me.” He pauses for extra affect. “In the most agonising way he can come up with.”

  You physically recline back in what can only be shock. “Oh, wow. You’re serious?”

  “Excuse the pun, but yes, I’m drop-dead serious.”

  You furrow your brows. “Well, that’s dumb. Why’d you choose to hide out in here of all places then? Why not just go home?”

  The man’s mouth hangs open, almost like he’s about to say something in retaliation before he promptly shuts it. “Hey, you know what?” he says, head tilted. “I didn’t think about that.”

  You roll your eyes at his confession, though you can’t wipe the amused smile from your face. You briefly wonder exactly why this man is on someone’s hitlist. But you think that asking that question would only lead to equally--if not stranger answers.

  “What about you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Why are you camped out here in the bathroom?”

  You chew on your bottom lip, sudden anxiety beginning to grip onto you. You didn’t expect him to ask that. No doubt he had heard your heaving sobs through the flimsy material of the shower curtain, but you didn’t expect him to ask any further questions. Really, you were sure he was just going to brush it off and pretend like nothing ever happened, and that you were just in the toilet for more normal toilet-like business.

  “I mean,” he leans on the wall behind the bathtub, “you don’t have to tell me anything. I totally get that. But if you want to say something, I’m willing to listen. I’ve got a lot of time to kill. Excuse the pun. Again.”

  You smile softly. You’re not sure what exactly compels you to confide in this stranger, maybe it’s the genuine concern present in his voice, the delicate look in his eyes behind those green-tinted glasses, or maybe it’s just the fact that he’s somehow made you at least chuckle, just moments after your breakdown, which in the moment, was something you thought you’d never be able to accomplish, at least for another week.

  “I--” you start, searching for the right words to say. “I got dumped by text by my boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend,” you correct yourself. “And I didn’t even want to be at this dumb party to begin with. The guy had the gall to beg for me to come, and fucking dumped me after I dressed up and everything. Through text.” Crap. You can feel them coming. Another onslaught of fresh tears bombards you. You try your best to suck them back in, but a few stray ones stream down your cheeks.

  “What a dick. Without a doubt, I can tell that you’re way above his league. He’s just a fucking prick.” Somehow, him dissing your ex-boyfriend makes your chest feel a little lighter. “But hey, are you okay?”

  You angrily swipe your tears away with the back of your palm. “Yeah, whatever. I’m over it.” You know that’s a lie. But it’s more of a lie to fool yourself into believing than the man before you.

  “If it makes you feel any better, the guy who’s trying to kill me is actually my girlfriend’s boyfriend.”

  “What?” you sputter. You blink back your visible shock. “You mean you were seeing some girl who’s already in a relationship?” You can’t hide the evident disgust on your face.

  “No! No! Of course not. I’d never do that!” he almost yells, appalled you’d ever accuse him of such a heinous act. “You know me better than that.” Again, his antics bring a humoured snort out of you. “I didn’t know she had a boyfriend. I thought she was single. At least, that’s what she told me, but obviously, she was lying. She didn’t think I’d be at this party, so she brought along her boyfriend and now he’s found out and he’s trying to murder me, hence why I’m in the bathtub.”

  You grimace. You should definitely offer him some consolation. It’s the least you can do after what he’s done for you. “Are… Are you okay?” you find yourself repeating his line of question back to him.

  The man grins lopsidedly. “Yeah, I’ve drowned all my sorrows in alcohol and,”--He reaches into the bathtub before pulling out and entire bottle of some expensive looking champagne--“I’ve got more.”

  You snort. “You stole the alcohol?”

  “In my defence, this is so little compared to what’s out there that I really doubt anyone noticed.” He shrugs. “Plus, have you seen the size of this house. I mean, take this bathroom for instance. There’s two sinks! Who the hell needs two sinks? Even if I stole a truckloads worth of alcohol--which trust me, I was tempted to do--that would barely scratch the surface of this guy’s no doubt massive alcohol collection.”

  You slump in your seat. “You know what? A truckload of alcohol sounds really nice right now.”

  “Is that you telling me that you’re willing to help me in my alcohol heist?”

  You laugh. “What? I didn’t say that… Although, my little hands could probably hold a bottle or two…”

  The man leaps from the bathtub, outstretching his hand to you. “Alright then, come along my partner in crime. I’ve got some crisps in my car and we’re getting wasted tonight.”

  “You’re just inviting a stranger into your car?” you tease. “What if all of this was just some extravagant ploy to get me close enough to kill you?”

  The man grins cheekily, rouge beginning to dust his cheeks from the alcohol he’s consumed. “I wouldn’t mind being murdered by such a pretty girl.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” you scoff, a bit taken aback by this brazenly flirtatious comment. Admittedly, you’re not opposed to it.

  You place your hand in his, and his smile broadens as his hand tightens around yours. His smile is infectious, you find.

  “And what might be my partner in crime’s name, may I ask?”

  The man laughs as he tugs you from your seat, and it’s the nicest laugh you’ve ever heard.

  “Nakamoto Yuta. My name is Nakamoto Yuta.”

  “Well, Nakamoto Yuta,” you grin, “lead the way.”

[catxsnow]

MY MISTAKES J.C.

Request: Could I request a oneshot for John Constantine with a protege/child figure where they get hurt during one of the many shenanigans they've gotten up to? Reader is in their middle to late teens. Either gender neutral or female reade. Please and thank you! P.s I love ur writings.

Warning: canon-violence, swears

A/N: Did - Did I just post a fic in the middle of the day?? Yes. Yes I did. You know why? Because I’m posting a SECOND one tonight to make up for last night :) 

Alright look, I’m not gonna start writing for Constantine but this was cute so I couldn’t say no. 

Word Count: 2k

John Constantine was insane.

You had been saying it since the start of your adventures with him and the more that you were with him, the more you kept saying it. He was a crazy old fool who kept putting himself in situations what always came back to bite him in the ass.

When Zatanna dropped you off at his front door, he had no desire to take care of you. What the hell would he want with some saucy teen that would only get in his way and stop him from doing what he enjoyed most - liquor and sex. Unfortunately, he couldn't exactly say no to Zatanna, and when he saw just how powerful you were, he didn't have much of a choice.

You were young, and if that power within you wasn't controlled early, god knows what would happen. Constantine had fucked up a lot in his life, but maybe helping you was something that would make up for some of it.

So, he taught you everything that he knew - at least the not so dark aspects of it. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin the rest of your life with tainted magic that would haunt you forever. Life with you as his side wasn't all bad. He had someone to watch his back, keep him company, even boost his mood when he was down.

John faced a lot of hardships with you. A lot of the time he had no idea what the hell do to with you - comfort you, give you advice  - he wasn't good at any of that. He had to help you get through your first heartbreak, the doubt within yourself, hell he even struggled with looking you in the eyes and telling you everything was going to be okay.

He lied a lot.

You liked to consider John as more than just a mentor to you - he was your best friend. Even though there was a considerable age gap between the two of you, you were on the same level of humor and wit. A lot of the time you felt as if you were meant to be at his side. Zatanna finding you was pure accident, but being under John's protection almost seemed too good to be true.

Sure, he was fucked up in almost every way possible. He pissed everybody off, drank too much, his past was horrifying. Somehow, none of it scared you off, and in some ways, you made John a better person. To be responsible for just a kid - a 'I'm only a year and a half away from being an adult go fuck yourself' - made him get his act together.

Between making fun of his clothes, the way he talked, even his rudimentary way of living, the bond you formed was unbreakable. You would never admit it, but you looked to him as a parental figure. A fucked up parent who didn't ask to be or know what he was doing, but a parent nonetheless.

Your little 'missions' would usually leave some scrapes and bruises - most times blood of whatever victim you were killing off. For the most part, the most severe pain you had to put up with was John's hangover's. He had a lot of those. After being in this line of work for only a few years, you couldn't blame him.

Then there was the time that it was more than just a cut that could be magically healed. It was supposed to be an easy exorcism. You and John had done dozens of those which meant you went in there confident. Your guard was down and you weren't prepared for things to go sideways.

Things went bad, really bad.

John was left to make the tough call of saving the little girl that had been possessed, or saving you. He couldn't do both, he wished he could do both. However, he knew if he had saved you and not the innocent kid, you'd rip his head off. So, he had to bite the bullet and watch as you fell to the ground screaming and he saved the girl.

Sitting in this hospital with you unconscious on the bed, wires hooked up to you that weren't really doing anything against the magic coursing through you, he wished he made the other choice. Throughout all his years he had sacrificed lives to save his own skin, why did he start now with saving you?

"Shoulda never let Z to convince me to take you," John scoffed to himself. He wasn't strong enough to heal you, not by himself. His energy was already drained from taking care of the demon from earlier, he wasn't sure if he could do any magic at that point. "Can't tell if it was me or you that was the dumb one, huh?"

He felt like a fool talking to you. Obviously you couldn't hear a word he was saying, but part of him was just hoping you did. Maybe it brought him comfort, maybe he was just an old coot who didn't know how to accept this worry running through him. Either way, grabbing onto your cold hand sent chills up his spine.

"I'm sorry," John's eyes sealed shut. His fists gripped the edge of your bed as he tried to keep himself level headed. The demon that did this to you faced a fate worth than death for what it did. "I shouldn't have dragged you along, you deserve a better life. Not one with me leading you. I've made a fuck ton o' mistakes and I guess now you're one of 'em."

When his eyes peeled back open, a few stray tears slipped down his cheeks. John had faced a lot of evil in his life, he was so used to death and destruction that it no longer fazed him. Guess you made a little weak spot in his heart. For the first time in a long time, John felt grief for someone who wasn't even dead yet. He was scared.

"Never thought I'd see the day that John Constantine cries over someone." John looked up in the reflection of the window. He hastily wiped away his wet cheeks and scrambled up to his feet to see his visitor. Zatanna looked between him and you. "How are they?" Concern filled her voice.

"Needs help," John stared down at you. Zatanna stood on the opposite side of the bed. She placed her hand over yours, the unfamiliar lack of power caught her off guard. "Your help, I'm too drained to do any magic, at least by myself. I can't let them suffer like this, not for my mistakes."

"I know, John," Zatanna assured. Constantine wasn't sure how she knew that the two of you had gotten in trouble or exactly which hospital you were in. At that moment, he didn't care. He was more happy to see her than he ever had in his entire life. Zatanna could save you, if there was anyone out there that could, it was her.

"Let's get to work."

><

"I'm fine John, would you fuck off?"

John never thought he'd see the day where he was happy to hear you lip him off. In all your time together the second that you retorted any snide comment towards him, he would scowl. Now, he couldn't hold back a smile. He had been worried about you, more worried than he was for anyone.

Zatanna was the one to really save you. She had overworked herself to bring you back to the land of the living. It was worth it, she saw a lot of greatness within you. You rubbed off on John, he was becoming a different man than she knew a lot of her life. He was better with you at his side. Zatanna feared what he would become if he lost you - especially when it was his fault.

When you finally made it back home, John hovered over you like a mother bear. He didn't let you leave the house and he certainly didn't allow you to join him for any missions until you were 100% again. It was beyond frustrating for you, but you had to admit you were glad to see that someone cared about you this much.

You were bed ridden for a few days. Too weak to get up unless necessary but strong enough to get yourself out of the damned hospital. John became your 'bitch boy' for those days and you made sure to take well good advantage of it. By the time that you were up and walking, you had gotten annoyed of his hovering.

"'scuse me for being worried," John rolled his eyes. "Don't happen to often you know, you should be considered lucky."

"Lucky?" You scoffed. You hadn't tested your magic yet, your whole body still felt weak and you weren't about to put yourself back into a comma just to see if you could light John's cigarette with the snap of your fingers. "Anything involving you is far from lucky. I should be considered dead is what I should be."

He pulled a smoke out of his pocket, he forgot how peaceful it was without your comebacks. You narrowed your eyes as he lit it up and took a drag. Constantine knew that you hated when he smoked inside and yet he continuously did it anyways.

So, to test out how strong you were getting, you tried to disintegrate his cigarette. Your eyes narrowed with concentration and somehow, it had worked. John cried out as his cigarette suddenly burst into flames and fell to dust on the floor. You felt fatigued by the small spell, but at least you were getting back to normal.

Constantine glared at you. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out another one. Without breaking eye contact, he lit it up and took another breath of the nicotine.

"Twat," you muttered. The petty side of him was something that would never go away - no matter how close to death either of you were. It was who he was. John missed seeing your smiling face in the few days that you were out. He never realized the comfort that it brought him.

Without another word, you sluggishly walked back to your bedroom. You needed rest, as much as you tried to deny it. Zatanna had done a good job of fixing you up but you still had a long way to go. It was going to take time, but you knew damn well that John was going to be at your side through it all -whether you wanted him to be or not.

"Berk!" Constantine yelled after you. A smile toyed at his lips. As much as you did fight and bicker with him, he couldn't imagine what his life would be like without you in it now. Never in his life did he imagine he'd be some sort of father figure, with you... he enjoyed it. He was proud of you.

The thought of losing you to some stupid mistake that he made nearly destroyed him. He took you in to make his wrongs right and he would have lost all of that alongside with you. But, it was more than that. Constantine cared for you, losing you meant he would be losing a piece of himself.

There was already so much of him tainted by the evil of the world, he couldn't bare the thought of losing the little good part of his soul. As much as he hated to admit it, John needed you far more than you ever needed him.

[i-write-newsies]

(A/N): I decided to do some really simple and classic fluff after all the stuff in the last Oneshot. Hopefully, this one won't take me a literal MONTH. Hope y'all like it!! <33

AUs:

- Modern

- Coffee Shop

- College

Jack POV:

Jack is a hopeless romantic. A hidden one for the most part, but a hopeless romantic nonetheless.

Truth be told, he's never been in too many relationships, at least not ones that lasted long. He's liked a few girls before, boys too, and even dated a few. But they lasted 3 months, tops. His record for the quickest breakup was after 5 hours when the person found another person to dote on.

Despite bad experiences like that, Jack remains infatuated with love and the idea of soulmates. He listens to romantic songs on repeat, would always be ready to lend you a romcom, and daydreams about perfect dates with some fill-in-the-blank person when he's supposed to be studying Art History.

But lately, that blank template has been gaining more qualities of a certain boy from school. A certain boy with dark brown curly hair, with an adorable hooked nose, with olive-green eyes and a shy smile.

The moment his mind finally puts the pieces of the person together, he shoots up from laying down in his bed. He quickly pauses the music and struggles to unlock his phone out of a mix of confusion and excitement.

He scrolls through his contacts to the K section, clicking on Katherine's contact and pressing the facetime button. "Pick up, Kath..." he nervously mutters.

Suddenly, her face appears on the screen, "Hey, Jack! What's up?" she then notices the half vacant, half nervous expression his face is showing.

"You doin' okay?" Kath asks, brows furrowed.

"Huh? Yeah! I uhhhh..." Kath waits patiently, knowing his ADHD makes him lose his train of thought all too easily.

"Right! So, you're the only one who knows about me bein' kind of a hopeless romantic..." Jack looks down slightly, and Katherine giggles, knowing his embarrassment around loving love.

"What? Does big ole Jack Kelly have a crush?"

"I don't know!" he gives an exasperated sigh, "Maybe!"

"Okay, okay, calm down cowboy. Now which lucky person has caught your eye this time?" Jack mutters something incoherent below his breath. "What? I can't hear ya."

"Davey Jacobs."

Davey POV:

Davey sighs, taking a look at his computer.

A 2000 word essay on a topic of his choice for History due in 1 month. He knows how much time he has to finish this, and he knows that he could wait until a week until it's due to start it and still finish it on time perfectly, but no matter the assignment, there would always be a thought gnawing at the back of his brain telling him he NEEDS to get it done right now. And so he does. But he knows he needs coffee to do so.

Davey carefully slips his computer into his crammed backpack, as well as his wallet. He plans on going to his favorite cafe. The coffee there tastes like shit (though he would never admit it), but he knows the staff, and some of the baristas even attend his school. There was one that stood out to him, a certain Jack Kelly

Davey isn't sure what's so interesting about the creative student. It could be his heavy 'Hatten accent, or maybe it's his enthusiastic puppy dog energy about anything. It's kind of... adorable, I guess. He looks down at the ground while walking, trying his best to hide his red face. Davey doesn't swear much, but fuuuuuck.

He likes Jack Kelly. Jack Kelly of all people. The guy who accidentally SHARPENED HIS FINGER IN A PENCIL SHARPENER ONCE. Davey sighs, Jack may be an idiot, but no one can deny that it's charming in a way. He has tons of golden retriever energy.

Davey doesn't know what to do.

He sits down in a corner booth to avoid as much human contact as possible. He opens up his laptop and opens the tabs needed for his project. He slips on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and attempts to block out the thoughts of Jack Kelly. The essay is number one priority right now. Suddenly, Davey sees a looming figure out of the corner of his eye. He snaps his neck up to see...

Oh no.

Fudge.

"What can I get for ya, darlin'"

Jack POV:

Davey's face heats up. I don't really consider this a win, considering that's the way most people react when I call them darling. What can I say? It's a habit of mine.

"U-uhm..maybe-" he stutters quietly.

I speak up to help him out a bit, "I've seen you here before. You always order the hot chocolate with 2 pumps of espresso, right?" He squeaks out a yes.

"Comin right up, doll" his face lights up a bright red again.

Shit. Did I mess it up? Is he uncomfortable with those terms? I come from southern roots, which has pros and cons. The pros are: I'm really resilient, my tea is sweetened to PERFECTION, and I can smell when it's going to rain. Cons: The situation that just unfolded.

As I enter the kitchen area, I sigh. I come on way too strong. I quickly make Davey's order, after all, I did memorize it. I look at the plain hot chocolate. Needs a little something. He seems like the spicy sweet kinda guy, so I carefully add a good amount of whipped cream, and sprinkle some cinnamon on top. I really shouldn't be bringing favoritism into my work, but Dave should be an exception.

Being careful not to spill my masterpiece built out of hot chocolate and whipped cream, I bring it to Davey, who seems very deep in thought, staring at his computer. Trying not to disturb him, I set the drink gently down, then I lift one of his headphones.

"Whatcha doin' Dave?"

He jumps, turning red once AGAIN. "Jesus Christ, bud, got some sorta skin reddening condition?"

"Wh- I- You-" He sputters before regaining his composure, "One, none of your business, two, none of your business."

I feign a wound and put my hand over my chest, "Davey Jacobs! So rude!" I put my arm over my forehead and sigh dramatically, then sneak a peek at him. He's laughing a little. I grin, so he doesn't hate me! Whew!

A few hours,10 drink orders and slightly too loud joking and laughing later, Davey's still here, working on some big project. At this point I've stopped charging him and have just been paying for them myself. I make my way to his table once more.

I notice his cup is empty, "Refill?" I ask, he nods. That's when I notice the bags under his red eyes. I walk back a bit and lean on his table. "You need to sleep, Dave." He shakes his head as a response and I sigh.

I make my way to the kitchen and decide to not add caffeine in this. He needs it. My hands go on autopilot as I start to think about him. He's just so... pretty.

I bite my lip. Should I...? Ah, fuck it, I'm almost done with my shift. I grab a scrap of paper and a pen and scrawl my number, with the message

'Call me ;P'

Beside it. I take a deep breath and carefully balance the cup all the way to Davey's corner booth. The sight is adorable. Davey is laying down on the table, asleep, head tilted to one side, face illuminated by the computer screen. I smile gently.

All I think about for the rest of the night is that sight. As I sit in bed, drawing the scene, I hear a ding from my phone. I open texts and see from an unknown number:

Hey, Jack?

It's Davey.

The student from the coffee shop.

I grin.

Hey Dave :P

I quickly change his contact to <3 Dave <3 with my recent drawing of him as the profile picture.

Before I know it, we're talking about everything. It's honestly so much easier texting than actually interacting with people. My brain decides to peace out for a long minute, and my hands automatically do the typing. Bad decision. Why? Because I barely even notice when I hit send.

Do you wanna go on a date with me? I was thinking about getting froyo, and maybe watching a cheesy romcom. Whaddya say, Dave?

I can only watch, petrified, as I see...

<3 Dave <3 is typing...

~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~

(A/N):

Hope y'all like this! Pt. 2 will be their date!! btw no one has really interacted or requested fanfics, so if you could vote for this or request something, that would really make me happy.

~ Race

[mythicamagic]

Young Love - Oneshot crossover

Zutara & Sesskag

Summary: Deciding he needs to do something about his long time crush on Katara, Zuko enlists the help of self-proclaimed relationship expert and matchmaker, Kagome. With the help of her bodyguard, the busybody will stop at nothing to ensure the couple's success. AU, highschool. Tropes! Why have one otp when you can have two?

AN: This is a writing commission for the lovely @prationality​ ^^ Highschool AU has demons integrated into it. Yes it makes no sense. Just suspend your disbelief, buds.

Young Love

For the better part of a year it had been a thorn in his side. The niggling, aching, irritating feeling of complete and utter warmth flooding his chest whenever a certain person entered the room.

Zuko trudged moodily through the hallway, gaze fixed ahead. He needed to do something about Katara. Having a crush on one of your best friends was not ideal, and worse still, he couldn't talk to anyone about it.

Sokka was out. He would either immediately tattle to his sister or get protective. Aang was possibly the worst one to ask, as he'd harboured puppy love for her since kindergarten, though Katara remained willfully ignorant. Suki would tell Sokka. Toph had been a serious candidate as a confidant but he'd decided against it when she'd blabbed last week about his secret tradition of watching Love Amongst the Dragons every year at the theatre.

He'd never be able to live that down.

I could tell Uncle, Zuko briefly thought, soon shaking that idea away. He'd rather not have a lengthy anecdote about turtle ducks swimming in the pond of unrequited love.

This left confiding in an outsider. However, he couldn't tell just anyone or it would become the gossip of the whole school.

Knocking on a classroom door, he waited.

"Come in!" Came a hearty chirp.

Wincing, Zuko pushed the door open and stepped inside, closing it behind him. The empty pottery classroom felt perfect for a secret meeting since the department had suffered cutbacks. Including the teacher. And the pottery classes themselves.

A young woman leaned against a desk, dark hair cascading around her shoulders. Glittering blue eyes danced with mild amusement, causing Zuko to become instantly wary. Maybe this had been a mistake.

"Glad you could make it!" Kagome Higurashi grinned, gesturing to a seat. "Come sit down, silly. I don't bite."

Stuffing his hands deep into his pockets, Zuko leaned against a desk as well. "I'll stand, thanks."

She let out a huff, shrugging and relenting. "So, let's cut to the chase; as you know, I'm the best matchmaker in this school."

Zuko was pretty sure she was the only matchmaker in the school.

"Anything you say will be kept totally confidential. I can't guarantee you'll get the partner you want but my track record speaks for itself," Kagome beamed.

"I'm going to stop you right there," Zuko sighed. "I don't...want to trick her into anything. I just-"

"It wouldn't be tricking," she looked affronted. "You seriously think Kouga and Ayame or Sokka and Suki would last if the foundation of their relationships had been built on lies? No, no. I'm just going to help you put your best foot forward."

Dragging a hand down the scarred side of his face, the teen grunted. "Maybe I just want to talk about it."

Kagome blinked, spreading her arms wide. "Well go ahead. No one's stopping you, Zuko."

Gritting his teeth and fighting the urge to sigh again, his lips pressed into a thin line, suddenly reluctant.

Tilting her head, the busybody took him by surprise. "This is about Katara, isn't it?"

He jolted violently. "H-how did you know?" He croaked. Shit. Did Katara know? Was it that obvious?

Kagome smiled while flipping dark hair dramatically over one shoulder, idly brushing down her green skirt. "Hey give me a little credit. I did say I was pretty good at this gig."

A quiet noise, like a snort, sounded out behind Zuko to his left. He turned sharply, startled to find another student leaning against the wall. If Zuko remembered right, the imposing young man was an upperclassman. "The hell- I thought we were alone."

"Don't mind Sesshoumaru. I hired him a long while ago to watch over these types of meetings," Kagome waved it off. "I've had clients get pissy before."

Sesshoumaru stared at him, unblinking. Pale white hair was tied back into a low pony tail, features fairly delicate and regal, clashing with the heavy energy rolling off him in waves.

Zuko felt a shiver run down his spine and faced forward. If she needed a demon bodyguard of such high calibre within a school with relatively low level onis, he wondered what kind of clients she'd dealt with in the past.

"So, Katara?" The matchmaker prompted.

"Yeah well...I like her," he said lamely. "I mean I...she's…"

The young woman peered at him curiously, causing Zuko to grit his teeth. "I don't know! Gn...maybe this was a mistake."

Kagome pushed off the desk to approach and gently touched his arm. Her expression no longer looked amused or playful, now very earnest. "Hey, it's okay. These kinds of feelings can be really complicated, especially when they're for a friend. It makes you worry that you'll cause a fissure in your friendship group."

Golden brown eyes widened a touch, throat becoming dry with mild fear. He could only nod mutely. Perhaps she did have somewhat of a talent for reading people.

She gave a smile, "look I completely understand if you want to keep your silence around her and just vent to me. That's fine, buddy. But I really, really think you should go for it and let me help you guys get together."

"Aang and Sokka-"

"Don't rule Katara's love life," Kagome cut in, voice firm. "Besides, if she does go out with you, Sokka will probably just give the protective brother speech and threaten to harvest your organs if you hurt his sister-"

"That's fair, I'd deserve it if I hurt her," Zuko mumbled soberly.

Kagome winced and patted his shoulder. "As for Aang, he'll come around. From what I've seen he might get upset but Toph will straighten him out. What do you say?"

The moody teenager stared down at his calloused hands. Exhaling hard through his nostrils, Zuko clenched his jaw. "Do you think I have a good shot?" He grumbled, glancing at her.

Kagome grinned, nodding enthusiastically. "With me by your side, you've got the best shot."

---

Overlooking the martial arts group as a type of mole for Kagome felt incredibly easy, considering Sesshoumaru was well versed in many of them.

At the moment, Katara stood a little ways away on a tatami mat, practising her Tai Chi form. He'd never had much cause to speak with the girl beyond small talk. Still, Kagome had nudged at him to try and glean more of her personality.

Walking over and stretching his arms, Sesshoumaru grunted. "Your right heel kick should be higher."

Her gaze flattened, becoming defensive. "Did that old goat Pakku tell you to say that?"

"No, this one is telling you."

Katara hummed, going back a form and trying again, kicking higher so that her leg pointed out straight. Sesshoumaru nodded, chancing more conversation. "You are a female."

"Astute observation. Where are you going with this?" She raised a brow, smoothly moving her body into another form.

"This one seeks advice. Be grateful you are the one I have chosen for council."

Katara released a long breath, straightening out of her form and minding her long braid aside. "Arrogance isn't a good method if you're wanting my help but go ahead. I'm used to the tough guy act from pre-Suki Sokka."

Sesshoumaru did not need her permission but spoke. "How does one secure the attentions of a human female?"

"Are you asking me dating advice?"

"Hn."

Katara eyed the demon, raising her arms and turning on one heel to move into another stance. "I can't speak for most girls because my family has its own traditions to follow, but a necklace wouldn't hurt."

"A necklace?"

She nodded, holding her posture. "Something personal, though. I'm sure you demons have traditions to follow too, don't you? Maybe include one."

Sesshoumaru mulled this over, inclining his head, expression wiped of emotion as per usual. Kagome didn't need to know what exactly he'd asked Katara, that was his business. "Hn, you were mildly useful."

Huffing, she kicked her left foot up near his enigmatic face. "You're welcome. Was that form good enough?"

"You wobbled on your right heel. Again."

Katara grumbled under her breath.

---

Sitting quite contentedly in a cafe a few days later, Sesshoumaru sipped some tea. The atmosphere around him lulled into contentment. Despite the hustle and bustle of the patrons, he didn't feel particularly uncomfortable or annoyed. This sense of peace was abruptly broken as the scent of citrus and summer brushed into his nose.

"Hi!"

Kagome set her bags down in the opposite seat, sliding into the booth beside him and accidentally bumping his shoulder. The tea sloshed in his cup. "Okay, so their class had a project to complete and were separated into partners. Katara was originally paired with Haru, but!" She grinned, holding up a finger. "I pulled some strings and managed to switch him with Zuko. Isn't that perfect?"

Sesshoumaru blinked slowly. "How is it perfect?" He uttered, though she'd tell him anyway even if he didn't ask.

"Well this way, they get to spend quality time together totally alone!" Kagome gushed, opening a menu. "They'll be here any second. I reserved a booth for them just over there. You picked the perfect spot for spying."

"I did not know you would be here," he said flatly.

Tugging up her bag and rifling through it, Kagome produced a wig. Tying her hair back, she put a hairnet on, smoothing the blonde wig atop her head. Sesshoumaru felt used to her antics by now, watching while she took out a headset with a microphone and earpiece.

Kagome remained immensely serious about her unofficial job. Near everyone knew who she was in school, therefore a disguise became necessary when snooping. If Katara noticed her, she'd get suspicious about her presence.

"Is it still alright for me to babysit Rin later?" She asked casually.

He hummed, sipping the cooling tea. That was their exchange. Sesshoumaru remained a bodyguard of sorts while Kagome repaid him for his time by looking after his adopted sister when he needed to work after school.

They'd entered into their strange agreement six months ago. He could still hear the raised voices coming from the classroom. The abrupt slam of a desk hitting a wall and scent of salt in the air. How Kagome's wide, terrified eyes swung to him once he entered the room, her struggling form pinned beneath an incensed human student. An unhappy customer who hadn't taken too kindly to her failure.

In contrast to this grim memory, Kagome happily fussed with her equipment, stilling when a pale hand reached out to touch a dark strand of hair that escaped her wig. Lithe fingers tucked it back into hiding, sharp nails lightly skimming her cheek.

Kagome glanced up at him, blushing slightly. "Uh...thanks," she murmured.

Sesshoumaru stared, voice a soft rumble. "Hn."

Noticing something out of the corner of her eye, she gasped and shook his shoulder. "They're here!"

---

Sitting down across from Katara, Zuko took a breath, glancing around. It didn't take long to locate Sesshoumaru. Next to him sat a smaller blonde woman who gave a cheerful thumbs up. Zuko's gaze flattened. This was going to be a disaster, he could tell.

"Are you alright? You seem troubled about something."

Zuko jumped, looking at Katara as she set up her laptop and took out a binder. She was incredibly organised already despite the project just starting. It was just a little thing, but he liked it about her. She'd even arranged the papers by subject matter alphabetically.

"I'm fine," he said in a dusty voice.

Katara frowned slightly, the waitress interrupting them to ask what drinks they wanted to order.

Swallowing stifling nerves, Zuko did what he always did and ploughed on through uncertainty. Opening the envelope Kagome had given him, he slipped the earpiece in while Katara was mulling over the orders.

"Hey~ can you hear me?" Came Kagome's amiable voice. "Just nod if yes."

Zuko nodded. Katara ordered a Darjeeling tea, while he stiffly asked for a coffee.

"Okay, just talk about the project with her for now."

Katara was already a few steps ahead, talking while the waitress left. "I think we should start with the community centre."

"Huh?"

She tilted her head, hair loopies brushing the sides of her face, brunette hair falling in waves down her back.

Zuko's throat became dry, clasping shaking hands and resting them on the table. "Right. The project. Yeah, the community centre could definitely use some improvements."

Blue eyes blinked, the light from the window beside them bathing her dark skin in a soft glow. "How do you know that?"

An automatic sneer graced his features, glaring hard at the napkins. "My father poured money into building it just to secure a business deal by looking like a humanitarian. However, the second he got what he wanted he pulled the funding for resources."

A gentle touch startled him out of that particular tangent.

Katara gave an encouraging smile, "that's fine. Because you know what?"

Her smile was infectious and he gave a reluctant one in return. "What?" He grumbled.

"We're going to get the funding for even better resources and more involved staff, all without his input. You're going to do that. And it'll be great, Zuko."

Zuko swallowed, skin pricking with the sensation of her hand on his. She knew. She knew everything about his history with his tyrant of a father. How he'd given up the position that would've allowed him to succeed his father. Now he lived in a humble apartment with his Uncle.

Ozai had been responsible for evicting a large portion of Katara's neighbourhood from their houses through some legal jargon many years ago. After some arguments and fights in school, the two old enemies now sat in amiable silence. She could look at him with such soft eyes. Her forgiveness had soothed so much hurt between them.

The waitress returned, breaking the spell between them. Letting out a heavy breath, Zuko stiffened when a young man stepped around the waitress to address his friend.

"You're miss Katara, correct?"

She straightened, raising a brow questioningly. "Yes. Can I help you?"

The young man produced a bouquet of radiant flowers from behind his back. Fire lilies. Katara's mouth promptly fell open, the orange flowers placed in her frozen hands.

"Looks as though you have an admirer," the stranger winked, turning away.

Katara rose from her seat slightly, blushing. "Wait! Who are these from?"

"No idea, miss," he said over his shoulder, glancing at Kagome and smiling slightly. She gave a quick wave, grinning as Miroku left.

Zuko remained frozen in place. Fire lilies were almost too obvious! They were a type of flower well known in the city as one his family had produced. Hell, they were part of the logo on their company. He winced a little, thinking they might cause offence-

"They're beautiful," Katara inhaled the scent, blushing slightly. "They smell kind of like cinnamon," she mused, glancing up. "Do you...know who they might be from?"

"No idea," he mumbled, hearing Kagome's groan through his earpiece.

"Damn it, Zuko. Wait for me to give you some guidance. You could've said something much smoother!"

He touched his ear and turned his head slightly into his collar. "I'm not smooth! She'd know I was being weird if I fed her a line!" He hissed.

"Are you talking to yourself?" Katara bit her lip, fighting a smile.

From across the room, Kagome hit her forehead. She could only afford so much tech and had given him an earpiece. She couldn't hear his ramblings personally, it was only because of Sesshoumaru's excellent hearing and relaying of information that she knew what was going on. Zuko was right, he wasn't smooth at all.

Flustered, Zuko turned back to Katara a little too quick- knocking over the coffee cup with his arm and making a noise when the contents spilt onto the table.

Katara gasped and scrambled to place the lilies down, lifting her laptop away. The spillage headed towards her pristine, organised notes that had been set out to discuss. Zuko yanked his red jacket off his shoulders and pressed it down onto the table. The material quickly soaked up the coffee greedily.

Katara stared.

Kagome gawked, grasping Sesshoumaru's arm and shaking it slightly. "Wow. I didn't think things would escalate so quickly! This is perfect."

"Hn."

Lifting his gaze awkwardly, Zuko met smiling blue eyes. "You didn't have to do that," Katara said quietly, minding the papers away. "Thanks, Zuko. Would take forever if I had to print those out all over again."

Ah, of course she'd have backup copies. Duh. "Y-yeah, no problem. What are friends for?"

The sound of a hand smacking a forehead graced his hearing once more through the earpiece. "Honey, you're trying to leave the friend zone, not dig deeper into it."

Zuko glared at nothing in particular.

"Try saying: I know how much your notes mean to you, and anything that's important to you is important to me too."

Sighing, he ran a hand through dark shaggy hair, parroting Kagome's words out loud.

The girl sitting across from him took hold of his jacket, looking thoughtful. "I can wash this for you," she mumbled, glancing up at him. "And about...us being friends. I uh…" she blushed slightly. "I was wondering if-"

"Are you Katara?"

They looked up with twin scowls on their faces. This time a group of young men stood around their table. Zuko's face coloured red the second they opened their mouths and started singing. Every head within the cafe turned to watch.

Belting out some romantic ballad that hurt their ears and made Zuko want to shrink in his seat, he watched as they serenaded Katara. She looked mortified.

From across the room, Kagome gave another thumbs up. Something within him snapped.

"FORGET IT!" He burst, getting to his feet and shimmying out of the booth to storm out of the cafe. Katara called out somewhere behind him but the sound of his heart pumped deafeningly loud and fast in his ears. He couldn't continue, he realised. Embarrassing Katara wasn't something he'd set out to do. She didn't deserve that.

Cool outside air fanning over flushed skin felt like a welcome respite compared with the confusion and unease within the cafe. He marched through the parking lot, hands balled into fists.

"Zuko-" he yanked the earpiece out and stuffed it in his pocket. And yet, the calling of his name continued.

His heel dragged, Zuko stopping with mild surprise when he noticed Katara jogging after him. She'd left her things behind, laptop included. Taking a breath, she brushed one of her hair loopies away from her eyes.

"What's going on with you?"

Air rushed out of his lungs. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Zuko let the words quietly escape. "I...hired Kagome Higurashi."

"The matchmaker?" Katara's brow furrowed. "Why would you need to-" it clicked, and she glanced back into the windows of the cafe where the fire lilies had been abandoned. "Oh. Were...those from you?" She said slowly.

Zuko stared hard at the cement beneath his feet as though willing the ground to swallow him up. "Sort of."

She huffed, drawing closer and planting her hands on her hips. "There's no 'sort of,' Zuko. Are you interested in me or not?"

His eyes widened and slid up. Katara looked obstinate for information and oddly unoffended. He'd half expected anger or immediate dismissal. But maybe...maybe he hadn't been giving her enough credit.

Squeezing calloused hands into fists, he nodded. "Yeah, I am."

Katara's eyes widened slightly and the shock slid her hands free from her hips.

He ran a hand through his hair for the umpteenth time, minding the bangs from his eyes. "I like you," he muttered. "I've liked you for a long time. It's just that I didn't say anything because I didn't want to be greedy. You don't have to like me back or anything. Just don't break up the group because of me, Katara. This doesn't have to make things awkward. You all… mean a lot to me, ever since you accepted me into your group. So I don't think… I could take not seeing you," the words kept coming until Katara stepped forward, touching his hand.

"You never think things through, do you?" She murmured.

Zuko bristled. "Are you making fun of me? I'm pouring my heart out here-"

Katara giggled and suddenly grabbed him close, hugging him tightly. Zuko froze, stiffening within her arms. His breath fanned over her ear, hands settling at the perfect height on her waist, drawing her closer and revelling in the feel of her. The sensation of fingers brushing through the hair at the nape of his neck felt heavenly. "You wouldn't be kicked out of the group no matter what happened between us. You're not buying time or there by accident. Everyone wants you with us. So cut that out. As for the other thing…"

She surprised him by tilting her chin up, blue eyes connecting with golden brown. Zuko stilled, gaze flitting over her face, before giving in to the impulse to press his lips to hers.

They yielded easier than anticipated. He inhaled her scent, traitorous hands sliding up to touch the fall of soft hair. It was then that his mind caught up with his actions and Zuko broke away from her. "Ah- sorry, that was stupid. I didn't think-"

Katara made a frustrated noise before pulling him down again, cupping his face in both hands. He wondered what the scar felt like to her. Katara kissed him again, turning his brain into mush by parting her mouth and sliding a wet tongue against his lips. He granted her access, making a slight groan in the back of his throat. When her thumb brushed his ear Zuko near melted in her hands, fingers curling tight in her clothes, the material straining.

She then broke away with treacle immediacy, face flushed. She boldly took his hand, smiling. "Let's get our stuff and go for a walk together," she seemed to decide for them, a sparkle in her gaze. "There's a lot to talk about."

Zuko opened his mouth, croaking out a few nonsensical noises, before nodding astutely. "Okay."

If someone ever asked them how they'd gotten together, he honestly had no idea what to say.

----

Kagome hadn't moved an inch after watching Zuko run off. In fact, she'd seemed quite pleased with herself instead of concerned. Sesshoumaru hadn't understood why until Zuko and Katara reentered the cafe with a contented air about them, their gazes finding each other every few moments. They grabbed their bags, the flowers and the ruined jacket, leaving together without a backwards glance.

Kagome stood and removed the wig and headset, putting them away.

"You knew," he uttered.

"Hm?"

"You planned for this to happen, did you not?"

Sliding her bag over one shoulder, she shrugged. "After reviewing their profiles, I understood that Zuko has a temper and could get overwhelmed. Katara has one too and is fiercely stubborn as an ox about looking after people. I just prodded him a little and knew she'd follow him if he lost his nerve. Then there'd likely be a culmination of feelings," she turned. "My work here is done. Thanks for sharing your booth with me, I'll leave you to it," Kagome smiled and waved, walking out of the cafe with a spring in her step.

Sesshoumaru set some money down and smoothly rose, following with a blur of colour.

"Kagome," he said quietly once the doors slid shut behind him.

She blinked and looked up at him as he joined her side in the parking lot.

"This one does not need a culmination of feelings to understand what emotion I experience around you."

"What's that, irritation?" She teased.

Sesshoumaru frowned and reached into his pocket, pulling out a necklace with fangs as the charms. "We should engage in courtship," he said gravely.

Kagome's eyes widened, gaze flitting from the grim necklace and then back to his face, searching as though trying to discern his sincerity. His lips thinned, until a small smile tugged at her mouth, morphing into a gentle one.

Taking the necklace, she blushed slightly. "Is it customary for dog demons to give a tooth necklace when you want to date someone?"

"Hn, those are mine."

"YOURS?"

"They will be most useful when it is time for us to have children."

"C-children!?" Kagome looked a little unsteady. "Sesshoumaru!"

"Hn," a hand slid around her waist. "Though I'd like to have you all to myself for many years first."

"I should hope so, buster! We're in high school and I didn't even say yes yet," she huffed.

He lifted a large hand, palm up. "Then I will take the necklace back-"

"No, it's mine, no take backsies!" Kagome held it away from his grasp, soon grinning and leaning up to kiss the underside of his jaw. Sesshoumaru stilled at the action, gaze flitting down to her. "I accept, silly," the young woman murmured, hand curling around his own. "Though you could've wooed me a little first. Have my clients taught you nothing?" She teased.

Sesshoumaru's lips curved, gaze becoming half-lidded. "We may go to a restaurant tomorrow evening if you wish."

"I do wish," she hummed, putting the necklace on and wincing a little at how weird it was. Still, they didn't exactly make a normal couple themselves. "Let's bring Rin, though. She hasn't been able to spend much time with you lately."

Sesshoumaru gathered her closer then, causing her heels to lift from the floor. A deep well of warmth and pride spread through his chest right down to his toes. The matchmaker was truly a perfect choice for a mate.

"Hn," Sesshoumaru rumbled, pressing smiling lips to hers.

End

[tamakiamajikistentacles]

Dammit Hawks {Shoto Todoroki}

A/N: This oneshot is dedicated to @myherowritings because when no one answered me as to which piece I should work on I saw Sof on my dash and decided I’d finish this Todoroki story first for her! Also, please be understanding of some details from the movie possibly being wrong, I saw it opening night and then the world exploded and I couldn’t see it again to get all the gritty details right!

When Shoto regained consciousness his body was still half frozen and Iida, Tsu, and Kirishima were all still knocked out in various positions around the clearing at the water’s edge.

Instantly he panicked at the idea that maybe the villain Chimera had gotten loose from his ice and was once again after the little boy, but a gloved hand landed on his shoulder comfortingly.

“Welcome back to the spotlight, listener!”

Blinking slowly, he realized that Present Mic was smiling down at him, the island sun causing a glare on the lenses of his glasses. Never before had he felt so relieved as to see his English teacher in front of him. If he was there that meant that Yaoyorozu’s message had made it to someone who could call for backup and that backup had arrived. They weren’t alone anymore.

His tongue coated in frost, he tried to ask, “Is everyone alright?” but the words wouldn’t form properly.

“Rest those vocal cords, you’ve got a long performance ahead of you when it’s time to give a statement,” Mic said as he gave his shoulder a squeeze. Behind him, Shoto could see others coming into the area and beginning to tend to his classmates and ensure that the villain was dealt with properly.

He tried to sit up, his muscles making it difficult with how stiff and cold they felt but the guiding hand of his teacher helped to steady him. His head ached and shivers wracked his body but he was alright—so, so tired, but alright. All he could hope was that the rest of the class were the same and had minor injuries at most.

Despite the dizziness he felt at being upright after such a battle he tried to listen to the responders around him helping the rest of his classmates that had been by his side against Chimera. Kirishima was closest, and he could hear the medic rousing him back to consciousness and asking him questions to ensure that he was coherent and aware of his surroundings. Based on the slow, careful responses from the redhead he likely had a concussion.

Farther away he could see Iida also being woken for assessment. He could guarantee that his engines had overheated after the intense Recipro during their final rush towards the villain, and had he also done another earlier in their fight? Shoto really couldn’t remember, his thoughts and memories hazy when he tried to recall what happened when they first engaged Chimera.

“We need a shock blanket for this one!”

His attention shifted over to where two medics were waving over a third that held a packaged blanket, Tsu’s body curled away from his melting ice. Realization dawned on him at the sight, remembering that her quirk made her sensitive to the cold which made guilt settle in his chest. He should’ve stayed conscious long enough to make sure she and the others were alright. If he—

“You need to be looked at too, Todoroki,” Mic said, pulling him back from his thoughts. “Are you in any pain or did you hit anywhere that your ice might be dulling—”

Shoto shook his head and brushed off his teacher’s grip, gesturing for him to wait a moment as his left side began to slowly heat up. Still stiff, he raised his hand to cover his right shoulder and begin to warm his skin, the frost evaporating off of him and disappearing into the air. He kept himself at a moderate temperature as he moved his hand around his body to melt the icy chill settled in his bones, and once he felt that he could speak, he turned back to Present Mic.

“Is everyone else alright?” he asked, his voice rough.

Mic sighed. “I don’t know yet, to be honest. We all split up into groups so we could look for you and your classmates since the moment we docked we saw separate areas of the island peninsula looked like bombs had gone off. Recovery Girl is on her way, though, don’t worry.”

Shoto began to rise to his feet, once again being helped by his teacher. His knees wobbled slightly but he pushed himself to remain upright. “Let me help you, I know where everyone was supposed to be and which villains they were going to be fighting. We strategized, we had a plan.”

“That info would help but you don’t need to be wandering around the island with us. Why don’t you tell me where everyone should be and I’ll radio it to the rest of the pros, yeah?”

He began to explain where everyone was supposed to be positioned and the villains that were to be lured to each location. It was very clinical, like he was giving a report for class, because he knew that if he gave more thought to what could have happened while his team was dealing with Chimera, he would lose his composure.

Mic listened intently and once Shoto finished, he nodded and stepped away to radio the information to the other pros who had come to the island for backup.

“Let the medics look over you, Todoroki,” were his final words before he was left alone, watching as his classmates were still being treated around the clearing.

With a sigh, he looked to where the sun shone behind the stone ruins on the highest point of the peninsula. The islanders should be there with his classmates standing guard, and the classmates that fought, well, they should be alright too. In training or not, they were heroes for what they’d done on this island, he was sure of that.

“SHOTO!”

He closed his eyes in recognition of the bellowing voice, head tipped back as if gathering strength to deal with the exchange about to happen. Then, with a deep breath, he opened his eyes and turned to see Endeavor coming towards him at a brisk pace, concern and relief fighting for control of his features.

“Endea—” he began to acknowledge but was cut off as his father reached him and scooped him up into a tight bearhug, his feet lifting almost half a meter off the ground. He grimaced both from the action itself and from the metal gauntlets digging into his torso, looking away as he let out more shouts of his worry and happiness and pride. Was this what others meant when they said that their parents’ affection was embarrassing? It had to be.

He didn’t want to admit that the warmth of his father’s flames was helping ward off the chill still lingering on his skin so he sighed, looking away from the out of character declarations of worry being proclaimed but allowing this odd moment to continue. He would unpack this situation later once he knew his friends were all okay.

“I’m alright,” he finally interrupted, his father taking a much-needed breath as he quieted, “but do you know anything about the rest of my classmates? Is everyone alive?”

“We’ve only just arrived and it was my first priority to find you—”

“Put me down.”

Endeavor obliged but became confused when he started to walk away almost the second his boots hit the grass. “Shoto, where do you think you’re going? We haven’t secured the island yet.”

“My friends could be dead, I don’t care if the island is secure or not. Heroes are supposed to help, and right now, I need to see which classmates need my help.”

“I can’t allow you to wander the island al—”

“Then keep up,” he interrupted without looking back or slowing his pace.

With Endeavor at his heels he set out to find the areas of the peninsula that were predetermined for their moves against the villains, his body heating up naturally from the warmth of the sun and the exertion on his already haggard body. If he weren’t bound and determined to find his friends he was sure he would’ve collapsed.

The duo walked in silence which he was grateful for; his head was starting to throb. When he was able to, he was going to take a long shower and crawl into his bed at the lodge.

A chime sounded from Endeavor as they were approaching the connection from the island where the terrain was devastated. He retrieved a radio from his suit and they heard the question of Shoto’s whereabouts crackle through the speaker.

“My son is with me,” Endeavor answered back. “Are there updates on the locations of the other children?”

Shoto recognized Aizawa’s voice as the reply came, “Three of the villains are in custody and now that we know Todoroki is with you then all the students are accounted for. We have a unit searching the island for the final villain and we’re making a medical bay out of the students’ lodge so meet us there.”

With an affirmative to his teacher, Endeavor tucked the radio back into his costume and motioned for him to lead the way to the lodge. He gave no protest as he changed course to cross the connection back to the island itself, relishing in the fact that his father was quietly following his lead.

Trekking past the farmland and through the few scattered homes on the outskirts of the town gave them a chance to see some of his classmates heading back as well as many of the islanders. They informed him that the worst of their injured friends had already been taken ahead by the medics and some of the local doctors joined them.

By the time they arrived at the lodge there was a flurry of activity as Recovery Girl directed the medics and volunteer locals around to tend to the other students. Aizawa and All Might stood to the side, well aware that their authority meant nothing when the small woman took charge like this. It took time, but soon everyone was assessed and treated, though some of the injuries required more energy than they had strength for and would only be fully healed once they rested. Overall, class 1-A would be alright.

Sato, Hagakure, and Koda were the only ones without any real injuries, having been barricaded within the cave with the island’s inhabitants who were also uninjured from the events of the day. The same couldn’t be said for the rest of the class, though some were in much worse shape than others.

Sero had suffered whiplash and a concussion from the force of the rubble he and Uraraka had weaponized being used against them, shooting pains running down his neck at the mere thought of looking to his left. Jiro’s back had been broken when slammed into the craggy rock of the peninsula by Nine and she hadn’t been conscious until medics arrived. Once found in the catacombs, Ashido had needed a transfusion from the blood loss caused by a large gash on her thigh; Tokoyami had tried to slow the bleeding and it was thought that if he hadn’t she wouldn’t still be with them.

Both Midoriya and Bakugo were by far the ones with the most varied injuries, each of them nursing shattered arms, concussions, and broken ribs with Bakugo also receiving a punctured lung. It seemed that Bakugo also had memory loss stemming from the concussion because when he awoke in the makeshift triage room at their lodge his first question after being told of the little boy Katsuma’s safety was what happened to his arms. Midoriya had stuttered his way through a vague explanation until Bakugo’s frustration caused him to snap to him to stop talking.

The meal they all shared that evening was prepared by the locals in appreciation for their dedication to their safety, and even as crowded as the lodge was with pros, medics, and some islanders joining them inside, it was more enjoyable than words could express. Even after their dishes had been cleared away and discussions of how to focus their efforts to restore the island had begun, there was a sense of togetherness and determination to reach their new goal.

The next morning things began to move in terms of rebuilding the island. Assignments were divvied up based on skills and quirks, and even more pros and volunteers had arrived via boat to help.

Shoto had been assigned to assist with clearing debris from the majorly affected portions of the island and worked hard to gather the larger scraps that could be burned, igniting a flame in his palm to create a large bonfire that would be watched over by several others in his group. More pieces of fallen trees and shards of the dock were added as the sun rose higher in the sky.

It wasn’t until Hawks laid a hand on his shoulder that he paused for the first time around one o’clock in the afternoon. His sweat-covered brow furrowed, he asked what he needed and received a happy smile as he replied, “You’ve been at it for hours, take a break and get some lunch!”

A sound idea, he dusted his hands off on his pants and followed him back towards their lodge with a promise to his groupmates that he would be back within the hour. The two walked in silence for a few moments before Shoto realized that he could finally request the permission he’d been seeking since the morning.

“Can I use the communication to the mainland this evening?” he asked, hands shoved into his pockets.

Wings fluttering, Hawks cocked his head to the side. “What communication? All services are still down on the island and probably won’t be repaired and fully operational for another day or two.”

“But you said everyone’s parents were informed that we were safe. How were they told if you have no connection to the mainland?”

“We’ve been bringing heroes back and forth since there’s no real place to house everyone until the island is repaired. Eraser and Mic went back first with the other initial contact heroes to handle the school’s damage control with your parents.” Hawks paused before grinning. “Well, not including your dad obviously since I got to hear about that lovely reunion from Present Mic!”

“Only family was told of the situation after the fact, right?” Shoto pressed, ignoring the jab at his family issues.

“Yeah, of course. What’s got you so worried?”

“I have to let my girlfriend know what happened and that I’m okay. Endeavor surely didn’t take the time to do it, and having some other pro tell her wouldn’t satisfy her. It might be fine if Mr. Aizawa or even Present Mic told her but I’m sure they didn’t think to do it either,” he sighed. “I’ll let her know once we get back, I suppose. I’m alright but until she sees me with her own two eyes she won’t believe that.”

He couldn’t help but smile at that thought—he loved having someone other than his siblings concerned about him for the right reasons. After any patrol or training session she would thoroughly inspect him for damage as he gave a play by play of what happened so she knew where to look. Usually he would cheekily slip in false details so that her inspection could lead to other activities, but after what had happened on the island, he would indulge her with only facts. He’d been gone long enough that teasing wouldn’t be necessary to entice her.

“Well she knows there was massive trouble here on the island,” Hawks revealed, scratching at his jaw. “I had to put in the call to my agency so they knew what was going on and who to contact for backup, plus I needed some sidekicks to take my pla—”

“What?!” Shoto snapped, eyes going wide as he stopped walking. “It’s been over twenty-four hours since you arrived and that was what? After the five- or six-hour flight it took you to get here from the mainland?”

He raised his hands defensively, also pausing his steps. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down! Aizawa had to let my agency know that I’d be here for a few days to help out with the investigation but that everyone was safe, no casualties. She knows you’re okay.”

Narrowing his eyes, he levelled the older hero with an intense gaze. “Do you even know her at all? Her mind is going to be repeating that ‘no casualties doesn’t mean no damage’ until she has direct confirmation that I’m uninjured. Then she’s still going to worry until she can see me and physically assess my well-being herself.”

“Not to be too gross since you’re both like, twelve, but shouldn’t that make the reunion more int—”

“Shut your mouth,” Shoto hissed, flames igniting from his left side and crackling dangerously.

Hawks blinked. “I can send a direct message to my agency with the next heroes going out to let her know that I’ve personally assessed you for injuries. That probably won’t be until around dinner though; we’ve been doing a shift change roughly every eight hours to make sure we’ve got plenty of help for restoration since several of you are still on the mend.”

The flames died down considerably before extinguishing, but his t-shirt was essentially ruined, succumbing to his fire like so many before it. “Thank you.”

“I know you and your dad aren’t exactly close or whatever,” Hawks started cautiously, eyeing the exposed skin peeking through the burnt fabric, “but you sure as hell get your intimidation factor from him, damn.”

Shoto stayed quiet, continuing back towards the lodge where some of the locals had gathered to prepare midday meals for the pros, students, and the rest of the island’s inhabitants as the restoration efforts began.

As much as everyone wished those efforts would bear fruit quickly, it was impossible to have the island fully operational within a few days. Slowly but surely, with the help of pros and the students alike they were able to return bits and pieces of the island to normalcy. The dock had been first, everyone agreeing that making it easier to ferry in pros and relief supplies from the Hero Commission would make the rebuild much smoother as the weeks would wear on.

Those who had already recovered from the ordeal with the villains banded together to continue their work on the island and its recovery. The ones with more severe injuries were made to rest after a thwack to the knees from Recovery Girl’s cane, only to be released to labor once she saw fit.

It was hard work to assist with the restoration but there were so many people to help that breaks could be taken without much fuss since progress was still being made day by day.

The very moment service was restored on the island Shoto was racing back to their lodge to lock himself in his and Midoriya’s empty room so that finally, finally, he could speak to his girlfriend. Without communication services everyone had taken to leaving their phones behind, and he had never been one to be attached to his phone but with the news that communication to the mainland would be possible he felt the absence of its weight in his pocket.

He had turned the device off after the pros had arrived and it hadn’t left his bedside table until that moment when he practically threw himself onto his futon as he jammed the buttons to turn it back on. His patience was hanging on by a hair-thin thread as he watched the symbol for his network load and then the notifications start to come through.

Flashes of Fuyumi and Natsuo’s names appeared before fading into unimportance—they already knew he was alright—when he saw his girlfriend’s name with three unread messages, the first being from the morning of the day they launched their divide and conquer strategy. Of course he knew that she would be worried, but reading the simple plea had his chest feeling tight.

‘the agency contacted me this morning saying Hawks wouldn’t be in because he’s on the way to Nabu Island to catch a villain who toppled half a prefecture the other day. Please tell me they told me the wrong island and that you’re safe’

The next was timestamped from the morning after Hawks had brought backup.

‘Hawks sent word of what happened and how your class saved everyone. I’m glad for that of course but I’m still worried for you. He mentioned how the entire island has to have all major services restored and it’ll take time, so I guess I won’t hear from you for a while. I just want to know that you’re okay because even though Hawks said there were no casualties that doesn’t mean none of you are hurt’

He saw that coming from the moment he heard what Hawks had told his agency, and he wondered how long it took her to type out the message to have such a calm wording despite the anxiety she would have been feeling.

Her last message was from two days after the villains were defeated and was by far the one that hurt his heart the most.

‘I think you know that I have to make sure you’re alright myself, Hawks’ assessment be damned. When you have service on the island please call me, I miss you Shoto’

Blowing out a breath he toggled away from his messages and clicked instead to video chat her. A video chat was still technically a call, he reasoned.

“Shoto.”

He smiled softly. “Hello.”

She bit her lip and tucked a piece of hair back out of her shining eyes, his own tracking the movement of her hand. What he wouldn’t give to be back at the dorms with her.

“Are you… is everything okay? Are… are you okay?” she asked hesitantly.

“I’m okay,” he replied, still smiling. “Everyone is okay. There’s a lot of work to be done to get the island back up and running but we’re staying the rest of our scheduled time to help. It’s only another week and a half but we want to do everything we can for the locals.”

“You’re all heroes, you know,” she murmured. “You kept everyone safe and now you’re rebuilding their island when you’re all still healing.”

He sighed. “Thank you for saying that, but you don’t need to praise us when I know you’re still upset.”

“I’m not upset, Sho, I was worried and I’ve missed you and I can’t make my brain understand that you’re really truly okay without having you stand in front of me. I’m not mad that you helped protect an entire island from villains who never should have been there in the first place. I’m not mad that you’re helping those same locals rebuild to make some semblance of normalcy despite all they’ve probably lost in the last few days. Believe it or not, I knew what I was signing up for when I started dating a hero course student, so no, I’m not upset.”

Shoto was in awe. People always thought that the pros were the brave ones barreling headfirst into danger for the benefit of civilians and to an extent, yes, they were correct. It took bravery to stare down villains with disgusting intentions, but at that moment he realized that the friends, families, and partners of the heroes exhibited their own courage each day because despite the fear and worry over their loved one, they supported them. They supported them with encouragement to persevere and safety to come home to, understanding all the while that the world needs them too.

“I can promise you that I’m not upset, Shoto,” she repeated. “If you had done anything different I wouldn’t think you were doing what you felt was right. As for staying, we’ve managed two and a half weeks so far so I think we can do one and a half more.”

“Yeah,” he grinned. “I think we can too.”

They continued to talk for another hour before Ashido started knocking on his door to let him know that dinner would ready shortly and that he should head downstairs. With promises to video chat each day until his return they ended their call, each of them walking away feeling lighter than they had in days. His better mood was noticed by all when he sat down between Iida and Uraraka and engaged in the conversation about further plans for the island.

The good mood lingered for the rest of their time on the island as they worked to restore it as much as they could before leaving, a smile seen more often than not as he worked. Not even provocation from Bakugo who was still healing could bring him down, rare as it was likely to anyway.

Time seemed to go so much faster during that last week and half for the class. So much had been accomplished in that period that the island was well on its way to its new normal. Thanks to Kaminari, electricity had been restored once repairs were made to the equipment, and Yaoyorozu had made several key replacement pieces for necessary machinery too. Homes had been rebuilt and more were in the works.

On the morning they were set to depart, all of the locals were gathered on the new dock to see them off. Shouts of thanks were made by the students as well as the islanders, promises and requests to return and well wishes of good luck flowing freely. Even the two children, Katsuma and Mahoro, had run along the dock to say their goodbyes to Midoriya and Bakugo specifically, the blonde actually looking softer as he bid his farewells. Then entire class then settled back, each of them reflecting on their time on Nabu Island.

When the boat docked on the mainland, there was a flurry of activity to organize everyone as they collected their belongings and were greeted by their teachers who had come to escort them back to the UA campus. While three of the villains had be taken into custody, the fourth and arguably most dangerous, Nine, was still missing after his final confrontation with Midoriya and Bakugo. Without confirmation of his whereabouts the staff were reluctant to rely on the belief that he had not survived and preferred to err on the side of caution. No one could blame them for that.

Iida took charge of organizing the class as they made their way off of the boat and collected all of their luggage. Most of them only had their costume cases and a duffle bag—Shoto included—but others seemed to misunderstand the suggestion from Aizawa to “pack light.” Yaoyorozu was expected, but Jiro was not, having surprised everyone when she had her costume case, a duffle bag of clothes, her bass’ case, and a bag of music equipment to go with it.

“You aren’t carrying all of that,” Shoji stated plainly, the arms on his left side picking up all but her costume case easily. Jiro trailed after him while protesting but he paid her no mind.

Once they were all on land they were greeted to the sight of their families standing in a crowd farther up the dock. Iida’s control broke as he and several others rushed to their loved ones, reunions like this becoming commonplace in their pursuits of becoming pro heroes.

“Shoto! Over here!”

Turning at the sound of his sister’s voice, he spotted both her and Natsuo coming closer and walked over to meet them. Fuyumi immediately threw her arms around him in a fierce hug that nearly caused him to lose his balance. With a laugh he raised his free arm to hug her back and he felt Natsuo clap him on the shoulder.

“We’re glad you’re safe, little brother,” he said with a grin. “Sis damn near had a heart attack when she heard about what you did to that villain.”

“I was worried, Natsuo!” she defended, loosening her grip on Shoto but allowing her hands to rest on his shoulders. “And I wasn’t the only one.”

His ears perked up at that, wondering if his girlfriend had spoken with his family throughout his post-villain time on the island.

“We were all worried, but you two were both a wreck up until you saw him get off that boat,” Natsuo teased. Turning to Shoto, he tossed a thumb over his shoulder and told him, “Your girlfriend tagged along with us.”

His entire body warmed over as his eyes shifted to see behind his brother, and yeah, there she was. Standing just on the outskirts of the crowd with her hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of her top, she made eye contact with him, and he used all the energy he had to wordlessly communicate to her that he needed to touch her just as much as she needed to touch him to know that this was real.

She cautiously stepped up to him as his siblings backed away, both of them curious to see how she would handle his return.

Shoto held his breath when her hands raised up and cradled his face, his grip on his hero costume’s case loosening to drop to the ground beside him with a thunk and his duffle bag following suit a moment later. His hands free, he placed them on her hips.

“I haven’t kissed you in a month,” she said quietly, fingertips brushing across his cheek.

“I haven’t held you in a month,” he murmured as he leaned in to kiss her.

Both of them relaxed into the kiss as if the contact itself lifted every worry from their shoulders; there was no ocean separating them anymore, no class resuming on Monday, no rush on the tweaks to Hawks’ sidekick’s equipment. There was only their reunion.

Her hands moved from his face to the base of his neck and his slid around her waist to press her closer, and even when they pulled apart, aware of the many eyes on them, they stayed close.

“You were really alright?” she asked hesitantly. “Hawks wasn’t just telling me that to buy you time to heal with Recovery Girl?”

Shoto chuckled, slightly breathless. “No, love, he was telling the truth. I only needed rest to recover from overworking my ice and time for the cuts and scrapes to disappear. I was alright then and I’m alright now. We all are, and so are the islanders.”

Seemingly satisfied, she rested her head on his shoulder with a soft sigh. One of his hands unwound from her and came to hold her head against him as he laid his cheek against her hair.

“I missed you,” she said against his shirt collar.

His lips twitched up into a small smile. “I missed you too.”

“Now if those two aren’t the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!” Hawks said loudly, his wings spreading wide to attract as much attention as possible to the young couple in front of him.

Shoto glared at him and felt her face grow warm against him, her embarrassment fueling his annoyance at the golden-haired man’s ridiculous display even further.

“Endeavor, you ready to be a grandad yet? By the looks of those two you may not have to wait long!”

His girlfriend let out what sounded like a squeak as she removed herself from him completely with cheeks burning brighter than the red half of his hair. While he was upset that she was no longer wrapped in his arms, her distance gave him the ability to allow his flames to burst forth from his left side as he rounded on the number two hero.

“Dammit Hawks!”