#i sliced it here of course. but pulling out a whole ass vegetable felt so silly……

[jorvikzelda]

me showing up to the lunch room with a whole bell pepper bc i didnt have time to slice it before work: :)

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Touch it for Real, Final (Part 10.5)

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Angst / (Eventual) Smut 18+

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / idiots to lovers / unresolved sexual tension / penetrative sex / handjob / a mercy nut / oral sex / unprotected sex

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8 , Part 9 , Part 10 , FINAL Part 10.5

“Hi Bug,” he said.

“Did you eat?” He was speaking before his eyes made it back up into your face and it took you five whole seconds before your brain processed his question enough for you to manage a meager back and forth head shake as a response.

“We should eat.” Baekhyun stood up and walked the long way around the coffee table toward the kitchen, avoiding the space you occupied as he moved.

Eating was a good idea. It was getting late. Eating would give you something to do that wasn’t daydream about the way his thighs filled out his jeans and how strong his lap must feel to sit on top of.

You followed behind him into the kitchen. The wide galley layout afforded you with plenty of space to pass behind him without actually having to touch him but the urge was just too strong to resist. The cat was already out of the bag.

He was pulling out a frying pan, a cutting board and a knife as you passed behind him to move toward the fridge and you reached for him with your fingertips as you moved, trailing lightly over the wide expanse of his back from one broad shoulder to the other.

You looked back at him when your hand ran out of his back to touch and you caught the focus of his brown eyes that glanced up at yours and the smile on his face that he didn't try to hide. Cute. Oh god. Cute.

“What are we having, Peanut?”

You were standing in front of the open fridge and you wondered how unfair it would be to bend over to reach into the bottom vegetable drawer with him watching you like you knew he was. You pulled the drawer open and grabbed a few things trying not to think too much as you did it. If he looked, he looked. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen you at home wearing not nearly enough clothing.

When you looked back at him, Baekhyun’s eyes were, impossibly, focused up high, on the contents of the fridge. He hadn’t been staring at your ass as you bent over, imaging taking you here in this kitchen in front of the open refrigerator. Of course he wouldn't. Baekhyun would never waste that much electricity. The fridge was fancy and had an alarm that rang when the door was left open for too long and the one time — the one(!!) time you’d let the door stay open long enough for the alarm to ring was because you’d dropped a sauce bottle on the floor and had been cleaning up the mess. The alarm started to ring and the man rushed into the kitchen just to shoot you a look so dirty you felt as if you were the mess that needed cleaning up; as if you had personally been the one holding the baseball bat and had been caught clubbing the baby seals. He was insane. He was crazy. God, you loved him.

He lifted a finger to point to something on the top shelf and you reached for the container you saw there. You felt the cool air of the fridge along the bare skin of your stomach when you reached up high and you remembered why you rarely wore this shirt. It was just too flowy and too prone to malfunctions such as this. Your eyes searched for his again and the man had turned around to mess with his stupid cutting board. He wasn't human.

Your mood and your desperation were mounting. You weren’t going to make it. You were going to do something stupid like take your clothes off in this kitchen. How much self control did he have? Why was he so annoyingly good at it? You could feel a buzzing in the base of your skull as you looked at him and you wondered if anyone had ever died from sexual frustration before.

You did not take off your clothes. Instead, you gave in to his agenda. As if anyone in their right mind could eat right now. You loaded your arms with various ingredients, figuring he was making some sort of stir fry and quietly dropped everything off beside his cutting board.

He was working quietly and not paying any attention to you at all. Were you the crazy one here? When did you turn into such a desperate woman? You were beginning to feel a little bit pathetic. Your skirt was so short. Your entire shoulder had been out this whole time and he hadn’t touched you once since you’d come out of that bedroom.

You grabbed a glass of cold water to drink. It didn't help but at least it was something to do. Your desperation was beginning to change into a numb sort of acceptance. Maybe this was just your life now. Perpetually turned on with no release. You’d have to buy more panties and change them often. Your usefulness in this kitchen was quickly coming to an end. You were out of things to do since the rice maker was still full of plenty of warm rice to eat and all of the dishes had already been cleaned and put away.

Baekhyun was busy cleaning and slicing vegetables and you’d grown tired of standing around not doing anything productive at all so you backed up against the counter beside where he worked and hopped up to sit and watch him work from this slightly elevated angle. If you didn't have anything to do, you would simply entertain yourself inside your own head as you watched the man you loved work on making you something to eat.

You were only a tiny bit irked that he seemed to be paying such close attention to these boring vegetables and not at all looking at your bare thighs that could be well within his line of sight if he would only look. You watched his brown eyes. They stayed fixed on the countertop below him.

His hair was drying, but was still a bit damp and you reached a hand forward to touch the softness of it and to feel the waves between your fingers. When you pushed the waves back away from his forehead he blinked and again his lips pulled into a smile. Even though he refused to look at you, he was still quite aware of you here. He hadn’t flinched when you touched his hair and the smile was definitely for you. It warmed you all over. He was so pretty. He was looking down and his eyelashes were dark and spread over his cheeks. His cheeks popped up when he smiled. You were pretty sure you were obsessed with the shape of this man’s face and when you could see his forehead he was nearly impossible to resist. You saw him bite down on the inside of his bottom lip. He scraped a pile of veggies off to the side and grabbed a carrot.

“LoveBug,” he said between chops. A smile formed on your lips and you tensed your smile to control it before you spoke out your soft reply to him.

“Yes Peanut?”

His forearm muscles flexed as he chopped and his lips pursed forward into a tiny pout. His face was a bit flushed for just chopping veggies and you noticed the tips of his ears were also pink.

“Can I be your boyfriend?”

His knife stopped moving and he was stuck looking down at the board without any actual focus in his eyes at all as he waited for you to hear his question and answer him. It didn't look like he was breathing either. You hadn’t quite expected this question. Sure, it was kind of a given if the two of you were in love, but still, hearing him work up the courage to ask you this question out loud made your stomach do flips.

Your face was so hot. Your heart was pounding too loud again. Was that why he hadn't been looking at you all this time? Was he working up the courage for this? You swallowed and you had to lick your lips because they’d grown too dry from all the biting you’d been doing. You were biting because otherwise you would be screaming and he was holding a knife. It was a recipe for disaster. You couldn't go to a hospital right now, there was a global pandemic going on. Those resources were precious.

“Yes,” you said with your eyes on his face. He moved. His face lifted and his pink cheeks and pink lips and warm eyes were a gift to your soul. Baekhyun looked at you at last — at last, he looked up into your eyes. You’d been staring at him so openly all this time. You were intimately familiar with the shape of him. The angle of his pretty eyes; the layout of the moles on his face; the curve of his little nose that begged to be kissed; the pointed tips of his upper lip and the soft downturn of his bottom lip. You knew his face. You knew everything about it, but when he was actually looking at you, now that you had his focus and his attention on you, you suddenly found it very hard to breathe.

He was looking into your eyes and he’d gone completely still. The eye contact that he maintained, it seemed to build onto itself and you could not look away. You did not even want to. You felt positively trapped in his eyes and despite the fact that neither of you moved at all apart from the occasional blinking in his eyes and steady in and out of his lungs you still felt the pressure building the longer he stared into your face and the less in control of yourself you felt in his presence.

His muscles tensed all over and when his grip hardened around his knife, you heard a loud sound as the knife pressed through the thick carrot in his hand. The sound it made jolted through your entire body. The sound of the thick fibrous vegetable resisting just enough for the knife to struggle against it and then, just when it seemed like it might not, the blade won with a pop. It made it through, the loud chop as the strong high carbon steel hit the wooden board below it when the weaker gave under the pressure; it echoed out inside of your head and his lips parted and his eyelids sank halfway into a blink as he exhaled a held breath.

Baekhyun looked down at his board and then he came to life, suddenly grabbing the carefully sliced and obsessively separated piles all in different shades and colors and he abruptly piled the whole mess of it into the center of the board; he started rapidly chopping everything all together in smaller pieces. It was frantic. The change in his behavior was jarring. What had gotten into him? Was it the same thing that had gotten into you?

“What are you doing? I thought you were doing stir fry,” you recognized the odd behavior and abrupt change of plans based on what he was doing with his ingredients.

“Fuck it. Fried rice. It’s fast. You'll eat it.”

You let your surprised laugh escape and his brows were furrowed with the effort as he chopped everything all together.

“Why are you just trying to feed me? You haven't eaten anything either.”

“Yeah but you were too upset to eat this morning. You can’t skip meals because it makes you feel bad. You’ll eat this and—”

He was turning around, away from you and away from every bit of temptation you waved in front of him, with all of his haphazardly chopped ‘stir fry demoted to fried rice’ ingredients and you heard the click of the stove as he turned the flame on.

“I’ll eat this and what?” You asked over his shoulder and you let your eyes wander down the curve of his spine down to his narrow waist.

“And calm down?” You mumbled to yourself, “the cold shower didn’t work.”

You hadn’t quite so openly ogled him before and you decided that you had simply been insane before. How could you have possibly lived with this man for two years and not thrown yourself at him before? How in the hell was he still a virgin with a face like that? You tossed your head to one side and tried to remember the last time he left the house. Even before 2020, the year from hell, the man simply didn't like to go out. He didn't like meeting new people and he definitely didn't like situations that involved many of those new people. That didn't mean he didn't try in the past. He’d mentioned being stood up before so that meant he had made an attempt to date, right? God, he was gorgeous. You could see the back of his neck as he worked and when he moved the pan around over the burner to spread the oil his arm muscles flexed.

He was adding things to his pan. Cooking and frying noises and smells were building surprisingly quickly and before you could even move from your perch on the counter he was scooping rice into a bowl that he stuck a spoon in from the drawer and he turned back around and returned to you holding the bowl in his hand. He was back now. You had him back.

“The shower didn’t work for me either,” he said honestly and you dropped your hands to brace on the countertop beside your bare thighs to keep yourself from losing your balance. It felt like a confession. He’d tried the shower to calm down too. He was affected by you and was struggling with his control too. Only from the way he was keeping his hands off of you right now, it was clear who was doing a better job with their self control. You wondered about the kinds of fantasies that played out in his head.

Baekhyun was holding a spoon full of rice up to your face and he inhaled a deep breath of air into his lungs that stuttered on the way in.  The stutter in his breath had you swimming inside your own head.

“How am I supposed to eat right now?” It was a genuine question. The man was driving you insane, you could feel the effects of his looks, his words, his kisses from earlier, and the maddening way he hadn’t touched you once since you’d come out of your bedroom. What did you have to do to get just one more kiss; just one hand on your thigh; just one more; just one more — you were ready to bargain or beg even.

“Three bites,” he said and he was breathing heavily when he did it. “Ahh,” he followed up with opening his mouth wide just like he wanted you to do for him.

You leaned forward then; bypassing the waiting spoon of rice. He was so close. You leaned and you pressed your lips against his lips. It was a tiny kiss and you heard the low grunt that left the back of his throat when you did it. His lips molded into yours and he pursed them, returning the kiss; giving into you so easily. When you pulled back his eyes were closed and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and bit down.

Everything about him was pretty. His teeth were pretty. His tongue was pretty. His nose and his chin and his eyes were pretty. You felt drunk.

“Three bites and you can have anything you want, my love, I promise.”

Oh, he was playing a dangerous game with you. Calling you something like this when all of your skin felt like it was on fire. It was too much. It was all too much. You felt the blush heat your skin from your cheekbones down past your chest plate and you closed your eyes to try and keep some sort of semblance of sanity and you opened your mouth.

You felt the spoon push inside and it met your tongue. You closed your mouth around the food and chewed carefully. You tasted nothing. You ate it just to get the food inside of you so you wouldn't feel lightheaded later or gross for having skipped too many meals. He was right. You needed to eat something. He was taking care of you again and you felt one more drop of love splash against the inside of your heart walls. If he kept this up, it might just overflow and then what would become of you? You could hear the spoon scraping in the bowl he held and you heard the blowing sounds coming from his lips as he cooled the next spoonful to keep the hot temperature from burning your tongue. Another drop; another splash. You were screwed.

You’d swallowed it down and quickly opened your mouth for the next spoon, getting it over with to placate him.

The last spoonful went down easily and you opened your eyes when you felt a glass with cool water pushed into your hand which you drank down as well watching in amusement as Baekhyun also seemed to be chewing and swallowing rice he’d taken from the same bowl with the same spoon. His cheeks were puffed and you offered the rest of the water which he accepted and drained quickly.

“So you tried a shower too?”

He choked on his water when you said it and you adjusted the way you sat on the countertop, slipping forward a little so you could lean back on your hands as he was coughing. Your short skirt rode up a little more and you looked down to see most of your thighs bare. You let your knees open more. It felt like an invitation. He could touch you if he wanted to. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to this. Your wardrobe didn’t usually leave all that much to the imagination when you were relaxing at home.

“Cold one?” You asked. You weren’t usually so brazen. But this was Baekhyun and he was your boyfriend now. You wanted to scream from the pent up excitement sat inside of your belly when you thought about it.

“Freezing,” he said and he’d abandoned the food and water on the counter in front of him. His eyes were squeezed shut and he leaned forward with both of his hands resting on the countertop beside where you sat. You watched the side profile of his face and you waited for him. You did not move or touch him in any way at all. You held your breath and you held your tongue and you waited.

Baekhyun pulled himself up and he took a step to the side so that he now stood directly in front of you. His slim hips fit between your parted knees and you could feel the rough fabric of his denim jeans scratch against the inside of your upper thighs. You did not move at all. You just watched his face as he oh so carefully placed himself between your parted legs and you felt the first light pass of his fingertips as he touched your knee.

That first touch, that gentle tickle from his slim fingers that moved over the round hill of your kneecap and then, with barely there pressure, slipped up the outside of your bare thigh and did not stop at the fabric of your skirt but kept moving along your bare skin, just the tips of his fingers, just the tips of him that you loved the most; he kept touching and you could hardly contain it. The touch was so light, so fucking delicate you wanted to cry. He took your sanity and your breath and tossed them both far away from you.

When you lost your breath it left your lips in a quiet moan and your eyes closed on their own.

You moved your hands. They ached to hold him. You reached around his waist and pulled him toward you and he fit inside well when you moved your hips forward off the edge of the counter and when you slipped your face into the space below his chin where you could smell the skin of his neck, the smell of him overloaded your senses. It was just soap. He was just clean smelling but he smelled so unbelievably comfortable and familiar you inhaled deeply with your lips parted just over the surface of his skin.

The closer proximity gave you another sensation. You could feel the heat and stiffness between his legs that fit so perfectly between your own. You wanted to wrap around him. You wanted him closer. The desire was powerful and you felt the grip of his hand as he squeezed high on your thighs and his hips pushed forward for the sake of the friction itself.

“I promised,” you felt the vibration of his voice in your lips that you pressed against the side of his neck, “anything you want — you can have anything.”

It wasn’t quite a question. His statement was fractured and you could hear the trembling in his voice that made his thoughts as unstable as you felt inside of yourself right now.

“What is it you want to do? Do you want to watch a movie? Hmm? Do you want to go for a walk? Is there something else you want?”

You felt his words vibrating though his chest. You loved the sound of his voice but feeling it echoing against your own skin brought a warm comfort into your soul.

“I,” you had to keep your eyes closed and you pulled your lips away from his skin for a second. “I don't want you to do anything you aren’t ready for.”

As flimsy as you felt inside you knew you would never forgive yourself for pressuring him. You knew you needed to hear it from his own lips that he wanted more before you would let anything happen. You’d take 10 more frozen showers if you had to; just to hold yourself back.

You could feel it in that moment. You had a lifetime only for him. You could wait a lifetime for him.

“Bug, what are you doing? I feel like I’m losing my mind.” He was speaking just above your head and despite the pressure inside your heart to stop, to wait, to keep yourself under control you still gave into the urge to tighten your thighs around his hips and push your pelvis forward against him. You still pulled him into you with the arms you’d wrapped around him and you heard the trembling moan that vibrated through his chest wall.

“I can stop if you want. Peanut, tell me to stop and I will stop.”

His hands left your hips and you loosened your hold around his body when he moved. When you pulled your face back his hands were in his own hair and he was scratching roughly at his scalp with his fingers and his face was screwed together in a tight scrunch of all of his features. It was a look of confusion. It was uncertain and unsure and you looked at his face with your head cocked to the side when it dawned on you that he wasn’t picking up on the many many obvious clues you were putting down. Was he just so used to you cuddling and touching him that he really did not know what you wanted from him? Did he not watch you rip down the sign from your door and sit down here on this counter with your skirt hiked up so far he could probably see your panties if he just dropped his chin a few inches. Did he really have no idea?

“Stop what? What are you stopping? What is happening right now? I don't understand. You never told me what you wanted. And I can't think straight with you touching me so much. I’m going crazy. Tell me what to do.”

Was this real? You looked into the pained expression on his face and you lifted your eyebrows in surprise at what you saw. You saw him holding back. You saw him suffering through it. You saw confusion and uncertainty in his brown eyes and you realized that you had to be very blunt with him for him to get it. He’d been so conditioned to hide his attraction for you that this was completely new and uncharted territory for him. Despite the fact that you’d removed the stupid sign from your door and could feel the frustration all over your body from holding yourself back and the man was very clearly extremely aroused right now; you could feel how ready his body was for this, it was driving you crazy to have to stop this and tell him in plain words exactly what you wanted from him.

“Sex, Baekhyun. I am talking about sex. I want to have sex with you.”

As quickly as you’d said it, you inhaled to speak again. To clarify. To add important parameters that protected his heart.

“But, when you are ready. I absolutely don't want you doing anything you don't want to do, just because I ate three stupid bites of food. That’s actually not how this works. We have to both be ready. I will be okay no matter what we do or don't do. Please tell me you understand this is just me telling you that whenever you want to, I am ready. I want to do this with you.”

Baekhyun had removed his hands from your skin and he was still standing with his hands raised above his head. You’d pulled your legs away from his warmth and had dropped your hands to rest over your own knees as you spoke to him and he was looking into your face, watching you very carefully as you spoke with his lips parted and an indecipherable expression in his face. His eyes ticked around your features. He closed his mouth and then opened it again and you watched the words you had told him in earnest sink in deep.

When you stopped talking there was a moment when neither of you moved at all until you heard him inhale a quick breath.

“Yes,” he said and his eyebrows lifted briefly as his eyelids closed halfway, “yes,” he whispered again and his head was nodding up and down in quick shallow bursts, “yes,” he said a third time and he licked his lips quickly.

“Yes, I want to. I want to.”

His lips hung open when he quit speaking and he pushed the tip of his tongue along the edge of his front teeth. He looked into your eyes and you looked into his and you could feel the understanding coat you from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. With his eyes on you; with his love in his heart; with the furrow of his eyebrows and the quiet way his head sunk to the side and the push of air from deep within his lungs; he wanted you. He wanted you to be his first.

You watched him change before your eyes. The look in his eyes darkened when the minutes passed and the desire he’d expressed out loud sat in the space between your faces and inflated and swelled until you reached out and touched it with your careful fingertips. You absorbed it and he watched you do it. You would accept his consent, this precious thing. His tongue vanished somewhere inside of his mouth and he was breathing through his parted lips as his eyes roamed over your face.

The quiet understanding moved your body and you used the small space he’d given you to hop down off of the kitchen counter. When you moved you felt him take a step back and you pivoted on your feet, brushing your shoulder over his broad warm chest in the tiny space that you and he occupied in this kitchen.

As you moved you felt the back of your hand brush against his and you reached for his fingers with your own and when you took your first steps out of the kitchen you pulled his hand and he followed you where you moved past the dining table, past the living room and the light changed when you reached the darkened hallway that led to your bedroom.

Your bedroom was dimly lit. Your table lamp sat illuminated in the corner beside your bed and the sheer curtains let in enough light for you to see the nervous expression on his face and the way he licked his lips and swallowed away the moisture in his mouth.

Baekhyun came into your bedroom after you did and you saw him turn around and close your door behind him. The action made you feel tense. The intimacy of this small space made you feel very warm. Your bedroom was smaller than his and it hadn’t occurred to you until he did it that he had never closed himself up entirely in here with you before. In all of your experiences with him coming into your room in the past he always left your door open and something about him closing it behind him made this feel all the more real. You had sudden butterflies bumping around inside your stomach.

When he turned back around to face you he ran one trembling hand through his hair and his steps paused halfway through the room as he seemed to second guess his destination mid journey. He recovered though and pushed through it, coming to stop in front of your bed and turning around to sit down on the edge of it with his hands on his knees.

He was acting so nervous that it was making you feel nervous too. In fact, now that he was in here with you he seemed to be more nervous than he was excited about this. It made you pause.

“Are you okay?” You sat down beside him on your bed with your small question and you felt the warmth of his arm as you leaned against him.

Baekhyun closed his eyes and he inhaled a breath. You felt him exhale slowly and with it he leaned against you, slumping hard against your arm and he was warm and he was everywhere. The connection, that contact was powerful with how quickly you were overcome with the warmth and the feeling of him.

“I’m just anxious...I don't really know what I’m doing. What if I’m bad at it?”

He wasn’t second guessing doing this with you. He was naturally unsure of how things might go and was probably putting way too much pressure on himself to live up to some made up standard he’d set in his own head.

You stood up suddenly, feeling very in love with this man and feeling a strong need to protect him from everything, even from his own self doubts. He was brilliant. He was a good person. He was good at everything he did. He was already so good at loving you. You could see it in everything he did for you.

Your movement pulled his focus and his eyes followed when you moved to stand in front of him. You took a step closer to him, and your legs landed between his parted knees. His hands remained fisted stubbornly on his own knees but his eyes were open and he was looking at you standing in front of him.

“Baekhyun, do you trust me?”

He didn’t hesitate. He nodded his head up and down and you smiled down at him as he looked up at you. You lifted a hand and ran it over the back of his head and you saw the blink of his eyes when you slipped your fingers into his hair and scraped them against the back of his scalp. His lips parted and his eyes rolled.

“And do you love me?”  

Your other hand cupped his pretty face and his eyes opened back up as he looked at you again. He nodded his head again, slower this time.

“Then that’s all it takes to be good at it. I’ll help you with the details. You just do what feels good.”

“Just do what feels good? I can do that.” He whispered into the quiet space of your dark bedroom and you felt the heat flooding along the surface cells of your skin. He had been sitting when he reached for you as he stood and placed his hands on the sides of your face.

“Kissing you feels good,” he said and the warmth of his breath could not prepare you for him. You felt his mouth cover yours. You felt his tongue and his teeth biting lightly as he pulled your bottom lip inside of his mouth.

“Touching you feels good,” he whispered into your open mouth. You felt his hands then and he was everywhere. You were unprepared. This was not something you would survive with your sanity intact. You’d wanted so much. You’d waited for so long that the first real kiss, the first real touches from his hands rendered you nearly completely incapacitated.

The short skirt afforded him an expansive lot of skin to explore with his wandering hands. He gripped and he squeezed behind you, you felt the tips of his fingers squeeze your ass roughly and his hips were pushing into you. As convenient as these clothes were, they quickly lost their charm. You needed more skin. You needed to be done with them. You lifted both of your hands and you placed them on his shoulders and you firmly pushed him down to sit on the bed in front of you. He complied instantly and his eyes opened to look into your face as his heavy breaths flew through his parted lips.

You reached for the bottom of your shirt and you lifted straight up, pulling it over your head in a single smooth motion and before you lost the nerve you reached for the side zipper of your skirt and pushed it down, letting it fall to the floor you stepped out of it.

A burst of pride filled your chest. You’d made a good decision with the matching bra and panties set.

His eyes were on you and you saw a spark in them. This was a new expression on him that you hadn’t seen, although something in his eyes as he looked at you brought along a wave of deja vu. Something you’d only seen as quick as a lightning flash in his eyes as he kneeled before your naked body that night, the night of the storm.

He was looking at you and then he was touching you. You felt his warm hands slip a slow pathway along your hips.

“God, Bug. You’re so fucking pretty, I’m not going to make it.” When he leaned into you, you felt his mouth, the softness of his lips and the warm puff of air from his breathing as he inhaled his oxygen from the bare skin the space just below your breasts. His hands traveled now, with firmer pressure as he moved, you felt slim fingertips move higher and slip below the back strap of your bra.

You promised you’d help with the details. You reached behind and unclasped your bra hooks and the elastic gave. You pulled the garment down your arms and Baekhyun was leaning back onto your bed, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist as he leaned, he pulled you with him. His mouth was on your skin, he tasted and he when he pulled your hardened nipple into his mouth and sucked you nearly lost your mind. Your back arched and you moaned, closing your eyes tightly as his mouth worked on the sensitive nub. He moved like a fire and his hands touched you everywhere. Absolutely nothing about the way he touched you felt like he had any capacity in his whole body to be bad at this.

“This is too much,” he complained into your skin. You felt it too, but you craved even more.

You needed his skin. You wanted to feel it under your fingertips and with your lips. You wanted to kiss him and taste him and smell him as he was doing to you.

When you reached for his shirt, he left you pull it off him and when your hands flew to the button of his jeans he sat up on his knees to let you unzip him.

You felt that your own breathing was frantic. You felt too out of control. You wanted too much too fast to stand this.

Baekhyun stood to push himself out of his jeans and he joined you again with thin boxers straining against his hard erection. Your legs parted and you pulled him into you, still clothed in your panties and he landed perfectly in between your parted legs on the bed. His breathing was too fast and he whined out loud when you reached for him and palmed his hardness over his underwear. With every touch you could see him teetering on the edge. He would not last this way. You didn't really want him to.

“Too much. It’s too much. Fuck.” His self control was shaky. He was already a mess. You felt drunk on the sight of him. The sounds he made, trembling, whining with his eyes closed and with your hands on him, those noisy sounds hit you like heroin, you wanted him to come. You wanted to hear it and you watched to watch his face as he did it.

“I’m not going to make it. It’s too much already, I can’t,” he was whining again and his mouth was on yours as he kissed you, pulling your tongue into his mouth when you gave it to him. He was shaking already. You could see him losing control. If you kept touching him he would come in his boxers.

“You can come first,” you whispered into his ear before you bit down on the smooth skin of his neck. His breaths came out in jagged bursts.  

“But, too soon,” he complained with closed eyes. Your hand rubbed over him again and his hips pushed forward into the feeling as you squeezed and pulled with your palm around the cloth covered head of his dick.

“I want you to come first. You feel so good in my hand like this. I want to hear you come for me Baekhyun and then I’ll show you how you can touch me until you’re ready again.”

Your fingers slipped under the elastic of his waistband as you spoke and you felt him stiffen on top of you when you wrapped your hand around the smooth skin of his shaft.

“Oh God, Oh God,” he called out in his beautiful voice once you’d gotten him inside of your hand. You could feel the drops of wetness that had already collected at his tip and you used your thumb to spread the wetness over him and he let out a loud whine from the back of his throat as you did it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can’t — I have to —” he complained and you felt his muscles contract as he stiffened on top of you, he pushed again with his hips and with his mouth open and his eyes screwed shut you felt the first pulses along the length of him followed by the rush of warm liquid that flooded the palm of your hand and seeped through the thin fabric of his boxers. He trembled all over as he came and he went motionless save for the occasional satisfying twitch.

You felt positively possessed by the arousal. You pulled your hand out from his boxers and much of his mess had quickly soaked his underwear and even the panties you still wore and the bed sheets below you both felt sticky and moist. Still you saw the shine of wetness on your fingertips and his eyes followed you as you stuck your fingertips into your mouth and sucked off the taste of him, swallowing down the taste of his cum.

He reeled from it. He breathed heavily and his mouth hung open, the evidence of just how much all of this affected him written as plain as day all over his face. His eyebrows screwed together and then he moved a hand down the inside of your thigh, running his fingertips lightly over the soaked fabric of the lace panties you wore. Most of it was from you.

“Take them off,” you said. His fingers pulled at the sides and you lifted your hips as he rolled them off your legs.

When he came back his eyes feasted and his hands moved slowly, reaching forward for you, cautious yet desperate to touch everywhere. The first touches were light and you moved your hand down to place your warm palm over his hand between your legs. The details; the right place to touch you and the right amount of pressure. He was paying close attention to your fingers and you could feel his hand following your lead. He was driving you crazy. You were so desperate for him.

“Do you feel how wet you made me?”

You knew how wet you were. You were dealing with it for a significant amount of time already but something about guiding his fingers and slipping them between your folds as you taught him the movements; the way to make you come. He was directing his fingers and moving them over you in a way that felt amazing, you felt quickly undone with the rhythmic passes over your clit. You were so turned on even this amount of touch from him had you squirming in place almost immediately.

“I did this?” He had a spark in his eyes as he asked and you saw the small grin that took over his face. His eyes were on your face as he moved and you pulled your hand away when you noticed he caught on instantly to the kinds of movements that could drive you crazy. Every sound you made had him chasing the same sound and every time you flinched his eyes would fly up to your face as if you were a puzzle he had to solve and he was determined to get it right. You felt his fingers moving over your clit, pulling between digits and adding pressure when he abruptly pulled his hand away you opened your eyes and gasped at the sudden loss. He had dropped his shoulders and you saw the top of his head with his fluffy hair buried between your legs a split second before you felt the softness of the tip of his wet tongue slip between your folds and bump against the already swollen and oversensitive spot.

The man was an overachiever. You gasped out loud when his mouth opened and the suction of his mouth pulled hard enough to send a jolt of electric pleasure through your nervous system. You cried out and squirmed below his mouth and he pushed his fingers inside of you as he did it again. The room spun. You had to close your eyes and your hands reached down to touch his head. You threaded your fingers into his hair and when he did it again you gripped around the brown strands, you pulled his hair as he pulled hard with his mouth. He moved his tongue at the same time and you could not contain the trembling or the strong wave you gave into as you came. Your legs were shaking and he was still pulling. It was quickly becoming too much to take. You squeezed your thighs and reached for him, pushing him firmly away, he quickly pulled his face up from between your legs and the man was soaked. You were trying to breath and he was smiling his wide and blinding smile at you.

“Baekhyun, how?” You couldn't get the words out. You felt too out of breath from the orgasm and his smile was so lovely he lit up the room with it. You shook your head back and forth and exhaled the first breath that wasn’t shaking since he’d gotten his mouth on you.

“Did I do it right?” He was fishing. He sat there on his ankles and the moisture on his chin and neck reflected the dim lighting from your lamp.

“So good, Baekhyun. It was so fucking good. You’re amazing.” His nose scrunched and his eyes blinked when you said it. It was the truth. You hadn’t imagined that he could learn so quickly and perform so well. You could see the puff of his chest with your honest compliments and his hands were touching you again— light, absentminded touches; you felt him move again. The fire felt somewhat quenched for now as he moved and he blinked slowly at you as he dipped and he shifted in place. He was pushing his boxers off as he moved and you could see from the light in the window the beautiful shape of him completely bare before you.

“You’re so beautiful,” you said in awe at the sight of him. He licked his lips and glowed in the dim lighting. His smile pulled at his lips and you swooned to see him. You could also see that he was hard again.

You reached for him when he dropped to you and you met in the middle, reaching for his face as he reached for yours and his lips and tongue tasted like your arousal for a moment before you swallowed the taste away and found that familiar taste of him. The undeniable and addictive smell of the air that came from his lungs. The scent of the thin layer of sweat that sat over his skin and the heat that mingled and mixed with the smell of your own skin as he pressed himself against you.

Baekhyun was situated with his hips between your legs and you held your breath when you felt the first bump of his hardness as he slipped around within your wetness.

He pushed himself up on his knees and his eyes looked into yours. He didn’t move right away but you felt him reaching down between where you were separated and his eyes were down on his hand as he positioned himself at your entrance.

Baekhyun was looking into your eyes when you felt the tip of him and he pushed himself inside. He pushed forward with his hips; you felt the stretch; the pressure of it. A gasp escaped your lips and his eyes were on you when his mouth fell open. He pushed further and his eyes rolled back into his head, closing up as he filled you completely. You were filled. It stole your oxygen. You were overwhelmed by everything.

He went completely motionless when he got inside of you. When he was finally inside of you.

“Oh my god,” he said with his eyes closed up. His head was moving and small whimpers came from his throat when he pulled out and he pushed in again. You were transfixed by watching his face. “Holy fuck,” he spoke freely and noisily and when he wasn’t whining he was moaning out loud. When he wasn’t moaning he was cursing and you were lost under the spell of him. He quickly found a rhythm as he chased the need to move, pulling out and pushing in again and his movements grew more confident.

You were getting lost in him. You could feel the way your body clung to him tightly and you pulled him into you when he pulled away. Your mouth found his as he dropped down to you and pushed inside roughly and you wrapped around him when you felt him rolling. You found yourself surrounding him and surrounded by him at the same time. You were on top of his lap and the dizziness of the movement made your head spin. His arms wrapped around your waist and he sat up with you on him and still inside of you and he wrapped his strong arms around your waist and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and you held on to him so tightly. Tight enough that the movements of your body slowed and you felt him push deep inside of you again and again. His mouth was on yours and you shared the same air just as completely as you shared the same space.

Your heart was raging inside of your chest and the ache to get closer to him pulsed with it. The need for closeness was overwhelming. Your nails dug into the skin on his back and you bit down on his shoulder with your teeth. The need was too deep. Your mind was lost to it and you whimpered into the skin of his neck when you felt the wave overtake you again.

You were lost.

You were lost.

You could feel yourself shaking all over and you squeezed tightly around him when you felt the flood of his heat inside of you and the heavy breathing in your own chest mirrored his own as he gripped your body tightly and held you so close to him.

The spell took ages to break. You held onto each other for too many heavy breaths to count and when you lifted your head from where you were buried in his neck his hands lifted to cradle the back of your head.

Baekhyun’s lips were back. He kissed you deeply and slowly and you melted into him, feeling the fatigue in your limbs nagging you.

You were laid down and the substantial messes were ignored for now. You were kissed again and again and when those kisses turned quicker and sloppier you felt your own lips pulling into a smile.

Your body was nagging you though. You felt the need to clean yourself up. You knew you’d have clean your bed too and when you’d finally managed to extract yourself from his arms and his lips you made your way into your bathroom. It was your second shower of the day only this time you turned on the hot water to heat up.

A quick peek into your bedroom gave you a glimpse of him. Baekhyun was laying on your bed, still naked and laying flat on his back. After a few moments he moved and sat up, pulling the sheet below his body with the tips of his fingers. He was making a face to himself, scrunching up his nose and sticking his tongue out as he pulled on the wet fabric of your bed sheets and it made you laugh out loud.

“Is it always this messy? Bug—” he was calling out to you from the bed. He looked a little like he might be trapped there. “Bug? Bug, help. It’s all over my stomach. What do I do with it?”  

His hands were reaching out and you saw him grab the first soft thing he touched. It was pink and it was fluffy and it had been sitting in the corner of your bed. Your temper flashed hot. He was not about to use your cutest most innocent stuffed animal for this.

“Peanut, if you wipe up your cum with Mr. Nibbles, I’ll never, ever forgive you. Put him down.”

His hand opened and the pink fluff fell to the floor below. Safe for now. Baekhyun was sitting up on the side of your bed and he was mumbling to himself. “It’s not just mine, LoveBug. We made this mess together.”

“Well let’s clean up together then,” you said, with a few steps in his direction and reached for his arm, pulling him up from the bed toward your bathroom where the hot water was steaming up the mirror and calling out to you. The building hunger pangs in your stomach called to you as well. All at once, the needs came at you one by one.

You heard a low stomach rumble coming from the beautiful naked man whose arm you pulled through the doorway of your bathroom.

“And then we can eat together,” you sing-songed and you heard the small huff of a laugh that came from his nose. His smile was wide and he looked at you with so much affection in his eyes.

“And then we can take a walk together and hold hands, and watch a movie together and we can wash the bed sheets together and play a game together. An easy game though. Not one of those hard ones where I just die and die. We can play a nice game together and you can let me win at least one time. Not every time, just once is fine. I can’t win every time, it’s just not realistic. I will understand. I am a very understanding person.”

You weren't done. Once you’d gotten going you really couldn't help the excitement that took you over when you imagined all of the things you wanted to do with him. You had a list in your head of all of the things you wanted and you could hear the quiet giggles from Baekhyun that were nearly drowned out by the running water that you were about to step inside.

“Oh! And then we can delete your dating profile together and you can tell me how long you’ve been in love with me and I will tell you about all of the sex dreams I’ve had about you. And then—”

His hand pulled you back. The warm water had been so close you could already feel the refreshing cleanliness that was just within your grasp. The frown that formed on your lips was short lived because you felt his warm arms encircle your shoulders and he pulled you into his chest.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” he was saying it again and again. You could hear the smile on his lips as he said it and his love declarations coated you completely both inside and out and you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into your arms as you squeezed him tightly.

“We have so much to do together,” he said softly into your hair after the truth of the love declarations had settled and you ran your hand through the back of his head, pulling his hair through your fingertips with each pass.

“A lifetime of them,” you said. Your heart felt so full and somehow you couldn’t find it in you to feel anxious about saying this to him. It was the truth that you felt inside of your heart, you felt it so completely.

He pulled his face back to look into your face and you saw a remarkable serenity in his warm brown eyes. His lips pulled into an easy smile and he inhaled a breath to respond to you.

“A lifetime, Bug,” he said with a nod of his head and a spark in his eyes, “together.”

[The End]

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8 , Part 9 , Part 10 , FINAL Part 10.5

Tag list: @j-pping  @blahblahblah-boo  @his-mochi-cheeks  @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13  @baekinmylife  @insta1010  @nana-banana  @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth  @totallynerdstuff  @byunbabybaek @maijinki @bbyunz@theclawofaraven @kingkushdealer  @uhobob @baekswifey @punchmebaekhyun @xlxbaekhyuneex @sorrowinblood @catseohyun @rossemayme @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t @marovekian1 @versaexact@czechkpoptrash

[shakey-hands]

Hi hi!! I LOVED your fic about Ranpo and Fukuzawa, it was wonderful❤️ And I adored your writing style as well, I really hope you’ll continue writing~

I’d love to see a Kunikida x Fem!Reader where the reader is dating Kunikida for a few years and one day, a client comes and starts flirting heavily with the reader and Kunikida decides to make him understand that she has a boyfriend. (I’m so sorry I just love these healthy jealousy dynamics hehe)

sooo i’m ngl, i love kunikida :) i haven’t finished season 3, i’m waiting for my semester to end before i do. i did take some artistic liberties with this so i hope you like it :)

tw: dazai osamu and men (and slight cursing).

---

It was annoying how sunny the day was. Kunikida’s eyes squinted as he added no sunglasses to his ongoing list of why the day was not ideal. First, he woke up late. His eyes had opened to his very loving girlfriend promising to see him at lunch and giving him a kiss on the head before heading to her job. Then, his coffee was cold, making him reheat it in the microwave that then caused the coffee to get everywhere inside. There was no time to clean it up, meaning he would have to figure out how to get the stains out before his girlfriend came home to the mess. It was not like she wouldn’t mind helping him, but Kunikida was in one of his stages where he had to be perfect for her.

Kunikida had showed up to work five minutes late due to some idiot (see: Dazai) holding up traffic to dramatically propose to some random girl in the middle of the street so they could commit suicide together. The crowd had loved it, but the girl had not. Then, Kunikida was slammed with a lot of paperwork all the way until thirty minutes before his lunch. Of course most of the paperwork was just Kunikida fixing other people’s paper work. That one hour of seeing Y/N had the potential to flip his entire day. The bespectacled man looked forward to awkwardly holding Y/N’s hand while they ate the bento boxes she made the night before on a random bench at a park. And yes it was awkward, he never could get the right pressure down, making him either barely hold her hand or squeezing it. It had been years since he started holding her hand, but he never got it down.

That finally leads to one of the worst surprises. Dazai had forgotten to tell Kunikida about an appointment with a client that was fifteen minute before lunch. While this wouldn’t be a big deal, the client needed to meet at the park for lunch and Kunikida did not know how long the meeting would be. Since moving in together in their second year, Y/N and Kunikida had agreed to keep their work lives separate from their home life. That meant that Kunikida could not bring a client to their lunch date. While Y/N was the epitome of kindness and being homey, once she set a boundary she had set it. This was part of why Kunikida loved her so much. However, he was now checking his phone every couple minutes to see if she had responded to his text about lunch.

‘Meeting came up, might be late.’

Vague? Yes. But Kunikida knew she would understand. Hopefully, Y/N would take her time and arrive later than planned. She had a habit of literally stopping to smell the flowers in the park.

The client had been speaking for a long duration, talking about how some thugs were ruining the park's atmosphere and how his grandchildren frequented this place all the time. He was small and had comically large glasses. His hands were folded over one another on top of his cane as he rested on a park bench across the park from Kunikida’s spot with Y/N. Kunikida did not see why the agency was taking this case on. He had gotten a message from Fukuzawa that it was important, but no details as to why. This was a police matter, not something the agency needed to add to its plate. Especially when more pressing jobs needed their attention. The old man spoke slowly, not paying much mind to anything else.

Kunikida’s phone dinged and he couldn’t help looking at it right away.

‘Is this your way of telling me you need to cancel?’

Y/N was just giving him a hard time. She took joy in messing with him, knowing that Kunikida was up tight and would probably freak out. He could vividly see her lips stretch into a teasing smile. All he was missing was the soft kiss on the cheek Y/N always gave him to make up for being mean. She would always pull him down by his tie, gripping it tightly. Dazai had gripped his tie the same way once, and ended up with an earful of colorful words and an official complaint against him. Kunikida let Y/N get away with so much, and he would continue to. He was so in love with his girlfriend of three years.

“Sir, is there an emergency?”

Kunikida snapped out of his daydreams of how Y/N cradled his face whenever they kissed. The client was staring up at him, an eyebrow slightly raised. At the other end of the bench, Dazai snapped his head towards them. He stopped singing the annoying song that had played on the radio that had gotten stuck in both his and Kunikida’s heads. A sly smirk took over his head and slid down the bench towards the client.

“Kunikida,” Dazai said with a wagging finger. “You’re blushing. Were you thinking of a certain little lady in a compromising position?”

Kunikida felt his face heat up. He definitely had not even thought of his girlfriend in that way where other people could perceive him. Especially not during work hours. Kunikida was very private about things like that and so was Y/N. Kunikida started to sputter about, completely appalled by Dazai bringing that up in front of a client. The client looked confused, not knowing what was going on. Dazai let out a loud laugh and began to tease Kunikida more.

* * *

Across the park, Y/N walked up to their spot. She was dressed in her uniform, tired of having to deal with picky clients of her own. Two bento boxes were balanced in her hands, both very similar in food, but different in preferences. Kunikida’s was healthier, with a small salad with various vegetables. Y/N’s had a small slice of the cake she had baked them that week and more fruit. She always woke up early to make them lunch. It was one of the few ways she took care of her loving boyfriend that he found to be quite endearing. Well, he found anything she did endearing, but there were some things that especially made his heart race.

Another example was that she wore the stupid little children’s bracelet he had won her from their first date every day. Due to his nervousness, Kunikida had been convinced by Atsushi and Kenji that he should bring her to the fair the agency was going to. Of course it was for a client, but it had slipped Kunikida’s mind when he first saw Y/N’s smile as he offered (awkwardly and properly of course) to hold her hand so they wouldn’t get lost. While at first it was very practical to not get lost in the crowd, Kunikida did not have to convince himself that the warmth of her hand was something he wanted more of. He was smitten from the beginning, and now he couldn’t imagine a life without her.

Their bench was unoccupied, like always. She sat down, crossing her ankles and casually looking around. It was a nice day, with clouds covering the sun and a soft breeze. A large tree provided extra shade, and if you looked closely, there was a small heart with both Kunikida and her initials carved into one of the large roots. It had happened one night where both had a little too much to drink, but the next morning Kunikida was freaking out over it. Y/N loved their spot.

As her eyes casually drifted over the park, a familiar trench coat caught her eyes. Dazai was draped over a bench, paying no mind to the old man sitting beside him. Standing with his back facing towards her, Kunikida had his weight shifted to one leg and his arms crossed. Y/N smiled at the sight of her boyfriend. His whole body was tense and she knew Dazai was probably giving Kunikida a hard time by the smirk on Dazai’s face. It had taken Y/N a while to get used to Dazai, but now she could smile with appreciation. The two balanced one another, and Y/N was completely aware that if it weren’t for Dazai’s softening of her boyfriend, they would have never gotten together.

Y/N was too much in her head to see the handsome man coming towards her. He had his eyes set on her silky hair and sparkling eyes. The man had been out for his daily run before he met his grandfather and just happened to see the pretty girl on the bench from across the way. Although it was not his usual running path, the man couldn’t help but switch it up. The closer he got, the more he realized how easily he could fall in love with her. As he slowed down, he noticed how she was lost in the scenery of the park.

“So, you come here often?”

Her head turned, unsure about what she was about to look at. Y/N was not impressed by the man in front of her. Though every man seemed to be paled in comparison to her boyfriend. The man in front of her was buff and looked like he was on a run. He was attractive, with high cheekbones and plump lips, but Y/N was not interested. One of her eyebrows quirked up.

“I suppose.” There was an uncertain edge to her voice, hoping he would get the hint.

Instead, the man hiked his foot up on the opposite corner of the bench, flexing in a very obvious way that he was trying to be subtle. “Yeah, I was just on my daily run. I work out a lot, mainly in nature, but don’t turn down any gym days when they come up. Those are rare though. I have a job that keeps me busy. You know, you don’t earn 200 million yen in a year by just sitting on your ass. I mean, sure I take nice vacations to my beach house every once in a while-”

His boasting could be heard from across the park. Which of course caught Dazai’s attention when he saw who the guy was talking to. It was as if God had set up a perfect day for Dazai to have. He hoped Kunikida would explode. The client was very boring and Dazai was pretty sure the supposed thugs happened to be the Port Mafia. He was just waiting for Kunikida to get through all the questions from his notebook so they could go on lunch already. But now? Now a show of entertainment was in sight as Dazai zeroed in on Y/N and how uncomfortable she looked. That would certainly set Kunikida off.

Dazai knew how whipped Kunikida was for Y/N. The tall man almost never liked to talk about things outside of work, unless it came to his girlfriend. Everyone in the office knew to steer clear of the topic of Y/N unless they wanted to be trapped in a conversation about how amazing her cooking was or how well her job was going. It was cute at first, but it had been a couple years and Kunikida was still in his honeymoon phase of worshipping her. But this? This would make him go wild.

Dazai let out a huge sigh as the client kept talking. He noticed how Y/N kept looking over, hoping someone would notice and get her out of whatever hell she was going through. So Dazai waved slightly, making Kunikida look over at him and frown. The client was still talking, going into some story that looked like it would drag on and on. And then, the situation got worse.

Just as Kunikida was looking to see whatever had Dazai’s attention instead of the case, the strange man began to twirl Y/N’s hair around his finger, getting horribly close. His face got too close to hers, noses about to brush. Y/N held her breath, praying that the moment would be over soon. And it was.

Nobody had expected Kunikida to be that fast, but soon he was up the hill to the bench and holding the man who was shorter than him by the collar. There was a rage in his eye that centered around the man’s wandering hands. Y/N stood up quickly, ready to pull Kunikida away from the man if he tried to be too violent. Of course she would pretend to be slow, but she still felt morally obligated to pull them away from one another. Dazai casually walked up the grassy hill, hands in his pocket and smirk on his face.

Kunikida was breathing heavy, mind racing on what he was going to do. He wasn’t naturally a violent person, but he did not like how the man was making Y/N uncomfortable. His sudden rush had caught the attention of those who were close by. There was a silence enveloping the group as they all waited to see what Kunikida would do.

“Unhand my grandson,” The old man yelled as he waddled up the hill at an extremely slow pace.

Dazai raised an eyebrow and looked behind him. For a split second, he was very aware of how easily he could push the old man back down the hill and turn back to the source of the growing tension in the park. But Dazai didn’t want to be the source of any drama in that moment so he just turned back around to see the conflict in Kunikida’s eyes.

“It’s okay, honey,” Y/N said as she slowly put a hand on Kunikida’s shoulder.

Kunikida let down the man, he dropped to his knees from the sudden let go. He faltered as he stood up, readjusting his clothes.

“What the hell is your-”

Before he could even finish his sentence, he was getting socked in the face. Everyone stood in shock as Y/N’s hit sent him straight to the ground. She stood over him with a frown on her face.

“Learn to respect women, asshole.”

And if it were possible, Kunikida fell in love with her more.

[thewildomega]

Star in the Sand Ch.23

Sitting on one of the rocks you winced as Chopper treated your injuries, letting out a deep breath as he cleaned the one slice on your shoulder. 

"...You need to be more careful Y/n..." 

Grinning slightly at the reindeer you nodded, "Yes doc." He had already checked on your baby, assuring you and Crocodile, who had not left your side that your little one's heart was still beating strongly. 

As soon as the animal doctor had finished treating his little star he had requested a word with him. While he didn't normally care if people feared him this time he tried to sound a little more reasonable so that the 'Chopper' would agree to tell him everything he needed to know about the health of his soulmate and unborn child. When he nodded his head he kissed the crown of his darling's head and looked into her eyes. "You stay right here and rest while I speak to the... doctor." he told her in a firm voice, removing his coat once again and placing it over her thinly clothed body to keep her warm. Seeing her nod tiredly he looked to Daz and Bentham. "Don't let her out of your sight." 

"Of course Mr. Zero." Bentham smiled as the ever imposing man turned away. Looking to his old co-worker he smiled even larger and clung to his arms for a moment before doing a spin, "It's it exciting Mr. One, We are going to be uncles!"

Giggling as both Daz and Croc rolled their eyes you looked down to your belly and rubbed it gently. You couldn't think to describe the weight that had been lifted from your shoulders nor the dark cloud that seemed to disappear now that you were back with your soulmate again. Your child would have their father in their life, they would have a family, looking up at the straw-hats you smiled softly to yourself, and plenty of friends as well. 

"So you are the granddaughter of Big Mom and Kaido huh?" 

Snapping your head to the side you saw none other than Law come walking over to you. Blinking you looked the man over, his voice and whole demeanor was everything you thought it would be. "So I've been told." 

"That means that the child growing inside of you is also of their bloodline. Anyone that has anything to do with Kiado is my enemy. "

Noticing that the name of your Grandparents had caused heads to turn your way you licked your lips before looking back to the warlord. "I have no ties to either of them beyond blood. As far as I'm concerned all the family I have is here with me now." 

Finishing up his conversation with the blue nosed Reindeer he turned back to see Trafalgar Law standing close by Y/n. In a flash he was materializing in front of her, staring down the man. "Do you have a problem Law?"

"He won't stop coming for you, he knows you exist now, both of them do. Sooner or later you will have to make a choice." Law spoke, continuing to address the woman behind the famous Crocodile. 

"I've already made my choice." 

Hearing this he nodded and looked o Crocodile now, "Doflamingo will no doubt be coming here himself, I would make sure she was far away by the time he gets here."  was all he said before turning around and walking away. 

Glaring at the man's back for sometime he finally turned to looked down at his woman as he stepped over to her. Stroking the side of her face with his hook he saw her smile lovingly up at him. 

"Y/n princess I cooked you some delectable food packed full of proteins and vitamins." Sanji spoke. 

"And I brewed you some lavender green tea with a hint of honey, just like you like it." Brook added, rushing over to hand the woman the steaming cup of tea. 

"Yeah well I made her favorite vegetables as a side..."

"You are trying to win her over with vegetables, Who does that?!" 

"I don't have to win her over, when it comes down to you and me there isn't even a competition."

"Yeah that's because she would pick me!"

Noticing Crocodile's lip twitch and seeing the vein in his forehead poke out you grinned slightly and grabbed his hand before he could use it to make both of your friends a pile of dust. After eating all of our food you were left even more exhausted than you were before. You had tried to stop halfway but Crocodile quickly told you to finish eating. As it came time to say goodbye you quickly gave your gator a pout and your best puppy dog eyes before he growled out and gave a small roll of his eyes. 

"Bentham. " he called out, noticing Daz shaking his head from behind the flamboyant man. "...you are coming as well, I at least know you will help keep an eye on her." he spoke and saw Daz's shoulders drop in defeat. 

"Of course Mr. Zero! I shall protect Y/n and little Croc with my life." Bentham declared with a over the top bow. 

Smiling you hugged Crocodile's waist, feeling his hand rub your back. Looking to the Straw-hats you glanced up to Croc before moving over to your friends. Standing in front of all of them you smiled, "I don't know how to thank you all, I wish I had something to give you or... or something..."

"Don't mention it Y/n. We're friends right? That means we help each other." Luffy smiled and everyone else nodded in agreement. Although you coudl always name the baby after me..."

"Not a chance in hell." Crocodile grunted as he moved over to stand by his love. 

Chuckling Luffy rubbed the back of his head. "Worth a shot." 

"Here's your bag, I put the gift from Neptune in there as well."

Nami told you, handing over the small bag with the little bit of clothes she had bought you and some other things it looked like. 

"There some other stuff as well, thought you might want something to remember us by." 

"Oh yeah..." Taking off his hat Luffy ripped off a piece of paper and handed it over to his friend. "Here's my vivre card, that way you can come see us and we can meet little Luffy."

Hearing Crocodile growl you grinned and took the card from him. "Thank you Luffy, for everything." 

Smiling he placed his hat back on his head. "Maybe next time we are together you can make that one dish as a thank you... you know the one with the meat and sauce and cheese..."

"Lasagna." you smiled.

"Yea that one." 

Nodding you looked to the captain. "It's a deal, until then though I did make you something." seeing his confusion you smiled softly and tilted your head. "It's in your locker. I didn't really have all the details but maybe it will suffice." 

Smiling he perked up. "Really?! Is it food? Is it meat?" 

Giggling you looked to him, "I guess you'll just have to see." 

"All Right! Oooo I hope it's those cookies with the nuts and..."

Watching hi run towards the ship you smiled. "Bye Luffy!" 

"See you later Y/n... you too Gator!" Luffy yelled back.

Finishing telling everyone else goodbye you were lifted up into Crocodile's arms as he carried you back to the ship. Looking at all the familiar faces you smiled softy, especially when you saw Maverick smiling largely at you. 

"Good ta 'ave ya back lass." the old man spoke in his thick accent. 

"Alright get us off this block of ice." Crocodile spoke, giving the command to set sail. Going to take his darling into the cabin he stopped when he heard a loud yell. 

""Y/N!!!" 

Turning back when he heard the Straw-hat yelling Y/n's name he watched as an arm stretched over to the railing beside them. As the boy was pulled over to his ship he watched as he instantly wrapped his arms around y/n in a hug. He was about to step over and yank the his off but stopped when he noticed the few tears rolling down his cheeks and the picture frame in his hand. Glancing to the picture inside he saw a drawing of what looked to be three young boys. 

"Thank you." Luffy said in a thick voice. 

Smiling you hugged him back "Don't mention it." you spoke, repeating his words. As he pulled back you gave him one last smile that he returned. 

"Don't you worry Y/n I'm going to take down Kaido and then Big Mom then there won't be anyone that wants to hurt you or your baby." 

Giggling you nodded. "I'll hold you to that." 

................................

Standing behind her in the shower he felt his cock harden but grit his teeth, now was not the time. Watching some of the water running down her body and down the drain he noticed the slight pinkish tint and swallowed hard. He knew she was tired, both her injuries and everything else taking their toll on her. Seeing her leaning against the wall he stepped up behind her and let his eyes take her in. It had been six months since he had last seen his soulmate. She was skinnier than when they had been separated, not as thin as she was when she had first joined up with the straw-hats though according to the doctor. Noticing the light scar running down her back from shoulder to the top of her left ass cheek he furrowed his brows, that was new. Lifting his hand he gently traced the thin mark with his thumb. As if knowing what he was thinking she spoke in a quiet whisper. 

"Wouldn't hand over my locket." 

A whip then. Clenching his teeth he took a deep breath before leaning down to kiss the scar. From what Chopper had told him her shoulder and forearm had been broken while she was imprisoned, neither of them healing right which now caused her slight pain occasionally. She had been subjected to the cold for months, her body would be sensitive to the cold now for the rest of her life. Basically starved she had lost a tremendous amount of weight, both her and their child now requiring extra proteins and vitamins. The reindeer had also told him that their child would likely be born smaller than it should be, that it would be underweight for a while. Chopper had spoken to him about many things he coudl do and he planned on seeing them through. He would care for her, massage her, keep her warm and feed the best of food. She would rest, grow their child while her own body healed.

The small creature's words rung in his head, making true fear fill him. "If she was to give birth now, in the state she is, she might not live through the birth." 

He couldn't loose her, he wouldn't loose her, not again. Or their child. No he would make sure to take the very best care of them both. 

Pouring some of the shampoo into her hair he placed the bottle back up before he started washing her hair. It wasn't an easy task, not with only one hand but when she went to take over he grabbed her wrist in a gentle grip and move it back to her side. Carefully he started washing her hair that was now longer than when they had last seen each other. He made sure to get as little soap in the fresh injuries on her shoulder and palms as he next started washing her body. Turning her towards him he saw a bruise forming on the side of her face, going up her temple before disappearing into her hair. Why was it she seemed to always be hurt one way or another. How he grew tired of seeing her beautiful body littered in bruises and blood. Glancing down to her breasts and slightly swollen stomach he again felt his arousal spike but pushed it away and finished bathing her. "Go get into bed little star." he told her, placing a kiss to her forehead. 

Drying off you moved into the cabin and pulled on one of his shirts, leaving it only partially buttoned as you crawled into the large bed. Snuggling down into the comfy bed you sighed as his scent overtook you. Closing your eyes you turned your nose to the pillow and listened as he showered himself. By the time he was out you assumed you must have drifted off the movement of the bed starling you.

"It's alright." he spoke n his deep voice, moving to lay down beside her. Opening his arms for her as she moved to cuddle up to him he grinned softly, his eyes closing.

Cuddling up to him you felt his strong arms wrap around you, felt his one hand rub your back under his shirt. Hearing the sound of his heart made it all real, you were so afraid you would wake up and all of this would have been a dream, that you would still be slowly freezing and starving to death in Impale Down. As his lips softly pecked your head you nuzzled deeper into his chest, your eyes filling with tears and your lip trembling.

Hearing her sniffle and feeling the his chest become damp with her tears he continued rubbing her back while his left arm pulled her closer if it was possible. "Why are you crying little star?" he asked in a low voice.

"I'm scared your going to disappear again... that I'm going to wake up and you'll be gone." you whimpered.

"I'm not going anywhere darling." he promised her. Rubbing his hand around to her belly he stroked over the bump there. "I don't know how you did it, how you kept our child alive in that hell, how you even managed to stay alive yourself. You were there longer than I was and still.... everyday I woke up and expected to feel that emptiness take over, for you to have..." he couldn't even finish. Swallowing thickly he continued stroking her belly and side. "I am so sorry starlight..."

"Croc..."

"No, I need to say this." he told her and heard her become quiet. Taking a deep breath he started again, "I failed you yet again. It seems that is all I ever do, that I am unable to protect you. You are my soulmate, it is my responsibility to care for you... Not a day went by that I didn't think of you, that I didn't miss you. You don't know how worthless I felt knowing that the woman I love, the mother of my child was sentenced to that place."

It was strange hearing Crocodile become so emotional, something he always kept locked away but you wouldn't say a word. His hand stayed on your belly, stroking your skin softly.

Taking another breath he kissed gently at her forehead again. "When I got your letter I at first thought it was some trick, that someone was playing some cruel joke on me, I didn't want to believe it because I was so afraid of it being false but it wasn't." smiling a little he continued holding her close. "All the horrible things I've done in my life I can't imagine why fate took mercy on me but I will be forever grateful to have you in my arms again. I may very well never let you leave my side again." Feeling a light kiss to his throat he hummed. 

The both of you stayed silent for a while, just basking in one another's embrace before he spoke again. 

"Darling..." hearing her sleepy hum he continued rubbing her head and hair. "Earlier with Law, you told him you had already made your choice what did you mean by that?"

"You, I choose you Croc. I will never join Big Mom or Kaido because even though they are blood you are my family. You, me and our little Caiman." 

Feeling his lips turn up into a smile he moved his hand to turn her chin up towards him so he could press his lips to hers. It was a long, slow kiss, there was no desire to take it further they were just simply expressing how much they had missed one another, how much they loved one another. When it came time to breath he pulled away but kept her chin tilted so he coudl look into her alluring eyes that he adored so much. "You believe it's a boy then, that we will have a son?" he asked, the soft smile staying on his face. 

Nodding lightly you saw his eyes twinkle a little. Rubbing his bare chest you grinned softly and turned some to lay a bit more on your back but still enough to stay in his arms and look up at him. "A son just as handsome as his father and probably just as cunning."

Chuckling he moved his hand to unbutton the few buttons she had holding the shirt on her small frame. "A little boy with his mother's stunning eyes and temper." 

Giggling you sighed as he rubbed your belly, "I don't think this world knows what it's got coming." you told him and heard him let out a small laugh. As his hand passed over your lower abdomen you felt a strange sensation and flinched, your eyes snapping down to your belly. 

"Was tha..." another jolt hit the palm of his hand and he stared down at her stomach in awe. Grinning he rubbed his hand again slowly and felt his child kick at his hand. 

"He knows we're talking about him." you smiled. "That's the first time I've ever felt him move." 

Humming he smiled and looked back to her, "See he is already a daddy's boy."

Rolling your eyes some you smiled and reached up to stroke his jaw. You stared at his face until your eyes became to heavy to hold open. 

Feeling her hand fall against his shoulder he looked back to her and saw her sleeping peacefully, a soft smile on her face. Grinning he pulled he blanket back over them and settled down beside her, placing a kiss to her temple. "Sweet dreams little star. I love you..." Feeling another hard kick to his hand he smirked, "And you, my son." he spoke in a low deep voice before joining her in the first peaceful sleep in months. 

...........................................

He could only grin a little as she looked around confused but he didn't say a word. Keeping her tucked close to his side he led her down the correct street, thankful it was nighttime so not many people were out. As they came up on the home he saw her brows knit a little before she again looked to him. Paying her no mind he walked up to the front door and glanced down to her before opening it and smiling softly, "Welcome home darling."

Blinking your eyes went a bit wide and you looked back towards the large home that was more like a mansion before snapping your eyes back up to him. 

Seeing shock on her face he chuckled some and led her inside, shutting the door behind them and locking it.  Removing his coat from her shoulders he hung it on the coat rack and continued watching her as she just stood there looking around but not moving. Sighing softly he took her hand and moved her throughout the place. "I settled on this island a few months ago, took over the black market position here."

"Took over?" you asked but saw him raise a brow. "Never mind I probably don't want to know." 

Humming he grinned and showed her room after room. "Truthfully there are more rooms than I know what to do with but at least now we will have a room for the baby." he said and saw her smile sweetly up at him. "You are free to decorate it however you please and anything you need you let me know and I will see you get it." 

Smiling you leaned into his side. Ever since the other night when he had felt the baby kick he had seemed rather thrilled of the idea that he was going to be a father. Daz who you had spoken to when Croc had to talk with Bon on something said that it was likely that Crocodile had feared he would never see you alive again, that he would never get o meet his child but now that the both of you were reunited he wasn't taking it for granted. 

"This is the kitchen, although I did have chiefs cook for me I was quite fond of your cooking and perhaps if you are willing and up to it we may share one of your delectable meals again." Seeing her nod quickly and smile he grinned but then thought of something. "I don't want you pushing yourself though, if you do not feel like it or you are too tired then I will get the cooks to make you whatever it is you want." 

Next he showed you the two living room, the courtyard that had soft green grass and a few trees. Croc had quickly led you to one of the small plants and pointed out that it was your apple tree that you had sprouted on the ship. He told you how you were free to garden all you wanted. After that was the spare rooms, his office that homed many books. You could only smile like a child in a candy shop as you looked over all the books, not knowing he was watching you smiling. 

At the end of the tour he led her down the hall to the large wooden door, opening it he checked it over for safety before turning on the lights and stepping to the side to allow her in. "And this is our room." 

Walking inside you looked around the large room. There was the massive canopy bed in the center of the room with a matching dresser and side table on each side. A little sitting area was in the right corner with what looked to be a private door to the courtyard behind it. On the other side of the room was two more doors, closet and on suit most likely. The bedding and chairs were all done in a grey color that complimented the dark wood. "It's beautiful, all of it." you told him, turning to face him as he came to stand beside you. 

Grinning he looked down at her, stroking her lightening bruised cheek with his knuckles. "I am glad you like it." Feeling that spark of arousal he swallowed and cleared his throat. "Come let me show you to the bathroom, I am sure you like a shower before bed." 

The bathroom was no less grand than the bedroom or rest of the house for that matter. A huge soaking tub that would fit you, croc and probably another person set in one corner with a equally large walk in shower on the other. Crocodile had quickly started the shower for you, adjusting the temperature before saying he wanted to check something, asking you if there was anything you wanted or needed before he left you to bathe. You found it strange that he seemed to always have something to do anytime you needed to be naked. That over emotional side of you kept saying it was something with the way you looked now, maybe you were no longer attractive to him. While you tried to see reason you couldn't help but be hurt a little.

Removing your clothes and then the bandages you glanced up to the mirror and looked over your body. Bruises spotted your skin along with the healing sword slash across your shoulder. Injuries were here and there and you felt your lip twitch as your eyes moved to your breasts. They were still much smaller than when you had first went into Impale Down. Looking down to your small baby bump you sighed and rubbed your abdomen. 

Taking a long shower you got out feeling much more refreshed than you had before. Drying off something caught your eye and you grinned when you noticed your silk pajama set folded on the bathroom counter. You were sure they weren't here before, he must have brought them in. Pulling on the shorts and shirt you brushed your hair and teeth before walking out to the room. Seeing Crocodile sitting in one of the chairs you moved over to him and curled up in his lap when he held his arm out. Humming you grinned and nuzzled into his neck. 

Grinning himself he wrapped his arm around her, kissing her head. "I missed this." 

"Me too." you told him, closing your eyes as his warm calloused hand rubbed your thigh. 

Closing his eyes as his hand creased her soft skin he adjusted his legs as his pants grew tighter. Damn he wanted her, he craved her, so much it was taking everything he had to keep from carrying her over to the bed and taking her like the deprived man he was. He should have made her wear the pants. Not that it would have done any good. She coudl probably be wearing a burlap bag and he would still feel as horney as a teenage boy. He had to wait though, wait until she was healed. It had been six months and his body was aching for her but he wouldn't risk hurting her or his child. No he would just have to resist. Glancing around the room he saw her bag sitting on the table and rose a brow, a distraction is what he needed. "The Straw-hat woman, Cat burglar Nami I believe her name is, she mentioned something about packing you other things she thought you might want, what s it?" 

Sitting up you smiled and grabbed the bag from the table, not realizing your dear Gator was staring at your backside, his hand trembling as he resisted grabbing it. Sitting back on his lap you felt him move your legs to rest over his other knee as you started picking out items to show him. "Pappag gave me these, well more like Nami talked him into letting them get anything they wanted." you smiled. 

Glancing over the clothes as she pulled them out of the bag he saw she had a pair of shorts, a t-shirt with a star on it and the word 'Crimin' on it along with a black two piece bathing suit with the same design on one of the cups. Humming he rose a brow and leaned back some. "And who is this Pappag?"

"Oh he's a starfish that designs clothes. He's a really big deal on Fishman Island." 

"A starfish." he asked and saw her nod. Grunting he listened as she told him about her time in Fishman Island with the Straw-hats. He had been surprised to find out that Jinbe and her father had been friends. While he didn't much care for the shark he was grateful for him helping his love send him the letter. Next he watched her show him the music box that King Neptune had gifted their child. As he listened to the soft tune he couldn't help but grin a little at the soft smile on her face as she talked about how they coudl play it to help their little Caiman go to sleep. When he saw her face light up he watched as she pulled out tangerines. 

Looking to him you grinned, "Your child seems to like fruit just as much as you." Thinking of something you tilted your head. "You know these are from a tree Nami brought on the ship with her, from Conomi Islands, your home." 

Raising both of his brows at that he looked to the fruit as she peeled it. 

Taking one of the sections into your mouth you grinned and held another to his lips. As he parted his lips you placed the piece on his tongue and saw the corner of his lip turn up as he ate it making you smile. 

"Still the best tangerines in the world." he said and saw her smile before offering him another. 

For the next few minutes the two of you sat in the chair talking and snacking on a few more tangerines. You were quick to save the seeds, hoping to grow a tree of your own. Soon however though you were covering a yawn and he was standing. 

Carrying her over to the bed he pulled back the covers and laid her down. He coudl tell she was sleepy based on how heavy her lids hung over her eyes. Tucking her in he kissed her brow before going to take a shower himself but only after making sure both the balcony door and bedroom door were locked. Getting out he glanced over to her sleeping form and sighed at the feeling. Quietly moving over to the dresser he pulled on a pair of pajama pants while staring at the neatly folded scarfs beside it. Reaching under them he grabbed the small velvet box hidden underneath and pulled it out. Flipping it open he stared down at the ring he had picked out over six months ago. It was beautifully crafted, only the best for his little star. The plan had been to give it to her that night in the hotel after they ate dinner but then she had felt ill and then that Charlotte had shown up. The whole night he had planed out had been ruined in an instant. Raising his chin he closed the box. This time everything would go right. Placing it back under the scarfs he closed the drawer, hiding it away for only a few days more. 

[spikeymarshmallows]

3, kleigo! for the kiss post! love your writing

I AM SO SO SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER.

And thank you to @unrememberedskies for existing.

kissing so desperately that their whole body curves into the other person’s

For this thingo

"What are we thinking this morning? Waffles? Eggs? No, I don't feel like eggs." Klaus surveyed the contents of the fridge with a frown. There was so much green stuff.

This is what he got for going away again.

This happened every time. His work would take him away for a few weeks, he'd explore the world, eat amazing cuisines, set up new projects here, finish them there—and then he'd return and find Diego had, once again, filled their kitchen with innumerable amounts of fresh food.

What was wrong with toaster waffles?!

He stood back and rested a hand on his hip as, humming his displeasure as he took it all in.

"Fiiiine," he groused, grabbing a few things and placing them on the counter behind him. He knew how to make some of the smoothies that Diego liked. He'd just been hoping to make something a little more… well, something a little more.

He'd woken around 2, and even though he couldn't sleep, he lay there, enjoying the feeling of Diego's leg thrown over his, the warmth that emanated from him. He'd grabbed his eReader sometime after 3, and had read by its dim backlight for a few hours before finally going to shower and generally try to fill his time until Diego woke.

It probably wasn't good for the jet lag, but none of the tips for getting over jet lag had ever helped him anyway.

Diego was still asleep, which was perfectly normal, given the early hour. Klaus' body clock was still on Dublin time, and the only reason he'd managed the few hours sleep he did was because Diego had fucked him senseless. Diego was good like that—selfless, really. He always made sure to fuck Klaus until he was so exhausted he couldn't help but sleep after, and it was probably the most effective thing he could do for his jet lag now that he thought about it.

He grinned to himself.

Klaus didn't even have it in him to pretend to be grumpy about the food available to him; he was just so happy to be home. He loved his job. He really, truly did. But there was something special about being home again.

He hummed to himself. Sitting on the counter across from him, Ben rolled his eyes. Ben hated the song. Klaus grinned and hummed it with a little more enthusiasm.

"Not exactly what I had in mind when I figured I'd bring Di breakfast in bed, but, I suppose it'll have to do." He started carefully slicing up various fruits. He left all the vegetables in the fridge; Klaus may have been feeling benevolent, but even he had standards. And breakfast smoothies did not deserve to be tainted with vegetables.

He danced along with the song in his head, singing under his breath, as he slowly filled the blender.

Fruit, almond milk… What else was there? Diego liked those chia seeds too. Okay, chia seeds. What else?

Oh shit, the ice. He forgot the ice.

He started the blender, wincing at the grating sound it made as it tore through everything. He'd been hoping that he wouldn't wake Diego up, but that was probably shot to shit now.

Well, that's what he got for not having the makings of pancakes available. Pancakes were a lot quieter.

"Oh! Protein powder!" Klaus cried, remembering at the last second. He scrambled through the cupboards, contemplating the different flavours before figuring the pink one was probably berry, and would go well in the smoothie. He measured out the protein powder, and flicked off the blender so he could pour it in. After examining the vibrantly coloured drink for a moment, he decided to add some extra milk.

Across the living room, the bedroom door opened, and a sleepy Diego appeared.

"Hey baby!" Klaus said cheerfully, turning the blender back on.

He realised a second too late that he'd forgotten to put the lid back on. Diego and Ben realised, of course, but Klaus got the message after it had covered him spectacularly. Klaus fumbled to turn the stupid blender off, and in doing so, turned it up higher before managing to get it off.

Diego and he stood, blinking at each other from across the space. The room was utterly silent, but for the very faint sound of traffic outside.

Neither of them said a word for what felt like a lifetime.

Some milk dripped down from curls that fell across Klaus' face—he really needed to trim those. There was smoothie everywhere. It was cold and wet through the satin kimono he'd thrown on, and there was some on his bare chest too. At least it wasn't on his underwear, he supposed? Wait, no. No. It was on his briefs too.

Ugh. This was going to be a pain in the ass to clean up.

Diego blinked a few more times, nodded once to himself, and then disappeared back into the bedroom.

"Fair enough!" Klaus called to the closed door.

He stared hopelessly at the mess around him. Did he start by cleaning himself up, or cleaning the space up?

The door to the bedroom opened again. Diego's face was a little wild, and he crossed the living space in a few large strides.

Klaus watched him, thrown. Diego didn't seem upset, at least, but…

Diego reached out and wiped some of the smoothie off Klaus' cheek, not speaking. He brushed some of Klaus' curls away from his face. His expression was unreadable. Klaus laughed awkwardly but leaned into the touch; what else was there to do?

The hand that had been on his cheek slid down his neck, across his shoulder, down his arm until Diego gently took his hand.

And then—

"Wait, what are you doing?" Klaus asked, inhaling sharply.

Diego looked up at him from one knee, a shaky smile on his face. There was a faint pillow crease against his cheek from where he'd been sleeping minutes earlier. His hair stuck at a thousand angles, and his t-shirt and boxers were wrinkled. And… Shit.

"Diego, no, I'm covered in smoothie and—" Klaus stopped, hand pressed over his mouth. Was this really happening?

Diego raised a sardonic eyebrow before his expression melted back into something that could only be described as blind adoration. "This w-was," he stopped, cleared his throat, and exhaled before he started again. "This was absolutely not how I planned to do this. I cannot believe I'm proposing like this either. I didn't really have a plan yet, but it was going to be romantic as shit because I know you love that, and god fucking knows I love you more than anything on this planet."

"Oh my god, I can't believe you're doing this while I'm covered in smoothie," Klaus tittered. He was shaking all over, and his breath was coming in a little shorter, a little sharper.

"I was gonna write a speech too, because you know I'm not good with words. So, I'm sorry I don't have a big, fancy speech all planned out. But." Diego shook his head a little, looking back down. He opened a little black box with his spare hand, but Klaus couldn't look away from Diego's face to take it in. "But… You're my everything. Always have been, always will be. And I want to spend a forever telling you what a fucking disaster you are, and much I love every single thing about you."

Klaus hadn't even realised his eyes were stinging, or that they were filling until a few fat tears rolled down his face.

"I hate you so much right now," Klaus laughed wetly. His chest felt like it was bursting open. His fingers in Diego's were shaking, but it wasn't like Diego was much better.

The nervousness in Diego's face was fading, and he was still looking at Klaus like he hung the fucking moon. And there was still milk dripping from Klaus' curls, and another tear fell down his face.

"I know," Diego said and grinned widely. "But in spite of that—will you marry me?"

Klaus nodded emphatically, swallowing past the lump in his throat. He didn't trust himself to speak this time, so for once he didn't try to.

Diego let Klaus' hand drop, and he drew the ring from it's box, and slipped it onto Klaus' finger. The metal was cool, and heavy, and when Klaus glanced down at it, tiny inlaid diamonds caught the light and sparkled. It was simple, and despite the diamonds, quite understated, and, fuck, it was absolutely perfect. Diego had chosen perfectly.

And then Diego was standing as Klaus grasped at his t-shirt, trying to bring them both as close as possible. Klaus kissed him hard, and deep, wrapping his arms around Diego's neck and trying to say without words everything he was feeling. Diego's arms snaked around his back and pulled Klaus in so tight that his body curved to fit Diego's shape.

He was barely aware of it, but they were both mumbling how much they loved each other against the others mouth, unable or unwilling to draw away long enough to actually verbalise it.

It was desperate, and wet, and hot, and Klaus had never been so disgustingly in love. Diego pushed the kimono off his shoulders, and Klaus was able to yank Diego's shirt off too. Diego crowded him against the counter, lifting him easily so that he was seated against it. Klaus wrapped his legs around Diego's waist, pawing at whichever parts of him he could reach.

"Oh my god," Klaus got out between kisses. "You asked me to marry you."

Diego laughed. He sounded as giddy as Klaus felt. "You said 'yes'."

Klaus laughed, tilting his head back so that Diego could kiss down his neck.

"Oh my god. I said 'yes'." He grabbed as much of Diego's hair as he could, and dragged him back in for another kiss. "Oh my god, we're going to get married."

"Oh my god," Diego teased, "do you ever shut up?"

"I thought you said you loved every single thing about me."

"I do. Doesn't mean I don't wish you'd shut up and let me kiss you."

"Oh, well, when you put it—"

Diego shut him up with another kiss, and Klaus had never been happier to have been silenced.

*

"Okay, but seriously, while I was covered in smoothie?" Klaus laughed some time later, rolling his head to the side so that he could look at Diego. The marble countertop was still cold against his back, but it was soothing on his heated skin.

Diego's breathing was only now beginning to steady too. Sunshine poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows and lit Diego from behind, making it look as if he was glowing.

Diego snorted a laugh and shrugged. He groaned with effort as he rolled onto his side and shifted so they were closer, as if they hadn't just been as close as two humans could possibly be. "I just. You were there, and you're such a fucking disaster, and such a fucking idiot, and I… I just knew. I love you so much. I had to. I had to do it right then."

Klaus narrowed his eyes at him and then lazily lifted his hand up so he could admire the ring properly. He hadn't had a chance to yet, and he was once again overwhelmed with the reminder of how well Diego knew him. The tiny diamonds caught the light and glittered beautifully.

Diego moved his head to rest against Klaus' shoulder, looking up at the ring before back at Klaus' face. Klaus lowered his hand and Diego twined their fingers together. He brought Klaus' hand to his mouth and kissed the ring. Klaus smiled as Diego then moved to kiss his nose before resting his head against Klaus' chest.

"I'm not going to tell everyone the circumstances under which this occurred," Klaus said. "You were very romantic. There were candles and flowers. And it was at a nice restaurant. Or in a park with hundreds of fairy lights. And I was wearing something cuter than my goddamn underwear and almond milk."

"Did I still fuck you on the kitchen counter afterwards?" Diego teased, smirking.

"Oh yes, that part of the story can stay." He glanced to his other side at the blender, and the mess that still needed cleaning up. He huffed and turned back to Diego, curling an arm around him.

They could clean up later.

[hereticpriest]

Powdered Sugar Chapter 2

Warnings: Kinda nsfw I guess? Nothing actually happens, it’s just thoughts and not super descriptive. Descriptions of domestic violence. Reference to past rape.

Duncan changes before going over to Margaery’s for dinner, though he can’t necessarily nail down the reason why. He puts on a black sweater he hasn’t worn yet and a pair of trim black pants, fixes his hair, and grabs his bottle of retirement whiskey in case Minnie feels like indulging. With such a short walk between houses, he can’t imagine why not. He’s surprisingly fond of his new neighbour, which may have something to do with his instinct to protect kicking in, and perhaps something to do with the fact that he wants her. Both feelings often lived together, as did his insufferable interest in women far younger than him.

When he approaches Margaery’s cabin, he notices her through the window singing while her dog, Theo, dances around her feet and howls along with her. From what he can hear, her voice is beautiful, but scratchy with disuse. He heads to the door and knocks gently, listening to her hush the dog and call out that she’s coming. He hears a crash and almost instinctively opens the door but stops himself.

“Are you okay?” he shouts, and he hears muffled cursing before a response.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine, sorry, I just kicked my gun safe on accident.” Minnie says just before opening the door hunched over with her left foot crossed over her right knee, her hand squeezing her toes. She smiles wryly at him, adjusting her cozy socks, “Sorry, I was going to wear normal socks, but the floor is cold unless you’re by the fire.”

Duncan simply nods, stepping past her into the house when she moves aside for him. He removes his shoes and holds up the bottle he’d brought, smile tugging at his lips when she cheers. The house smells amazing, and he finds himself drawn towards her kitchen. She’s dressed comfortably in a pair of black leggings and a navy sweater dress with pockets in the front, a metal lighter in one pocket and a pack of cigarettes in the other. He likes it. He’s used to his flashy world of bright colours and women dressed in tiny clothes. It is surprisingly sexy to see a woman dressed comfortably. Is this what happens when you retire? You get old and suddenly cozy socks and leggings are sexier than miniskirts and backless dresses?

Minnie smiles as she watches Duncan breathe in the smell of their dinner, Theo hot on his heels for pets. When he bends down to pet the dog, she eyes him appreciatively for a moment before heading over to check the lasagna.

“Hey, Duncan? Can you set the table while I finish the salad? Don’t worry, it’s not a boring salad. I put some effort into it actually being worth eating.” Minnie laughs to herself, slicing grapes into halves with practiced ease. She feeds a couple of slices of apple to Theo as she goes, listening to the gentle sounds of clinking as Duncan puts down plates and cutlery.

“Thank you.” Minnie’s voice is low, almost a purr. She finds it comforting that Duncan is so quiet. He fits into the comfortable hum of her cabin, the only sounds usually the crackling of her fireplace, Theo panting, and the occasional record on her old record player. She sometimes sings, but that is a recent development. She hasn’t felt comfortable or happy enough to sing in a long, long time.

“Are you a hunter?” Duncan asks, his voice quiet and rumbly, and she can’t help the shiver that runs down her spine.

“Oh, no. I mean, I can… I know how. My dad was a hunter. They’re for… self defense.” Minnie swallows around the lump in her throat, “I should… actually tell you this. As my neighbour. I just… I just don’t w-wanna ruin the mood before we eat.”

“It won’t.” Duncan replies simply, opening the bottle of whiskey and picking up the two glasses she had laid out. He pours them both two fingers and slides the glass across the island to her.

“Thank you. Uhm, I… I moved out here for a reason. I was dating a guy and it… I mean, it was the typical abuse story, you know? He was nice and then he began verbally abusing me, and then gaslighting me, and then punching my teeth in. Then, he’d soothe me and apology and say it was never going to happen again. Eventually, after he got drunk one night and raped me when I refused him, I broke out of things and decided to leave. He duct-taped my mouth, tied me up in the basement and kept me there for a week before I managed to get free. He raped me while he had me down there, but he didn’t hit me. I was tied up, so he didn’t feel the need, I guess. The police were fucking useless, as there were no reports of abuse and no evidence of him holding me hostage. He beat the shit out of me again, but a neighbour got me out while he was sleeping and brought me to a women’s shelter. Lived there for a while, got better, got an apartment. Got Theo. And then he found me.” Minnie isn’t looking at him, but she can feel his eyes on her. Theo lays at her feet, comforting her with his presence.

“I got away again, packed up all my shit, and found this cabin. I had been training with my gun since I got away from him the first time. It’s been… Nearly a year, actually, since I left him. Hard to believe.” Minnie licked her lower lip, finally looking up at Duncan. He looked murderous, but she wasn’t afraid of him in that moment, oddly enough. She felt safe, surprisingly.

“What does he look like? And his name.” Duncan asks, and Minnie finds a picture on her phone for him. He looks around Minnie’s age, broad chested and shouldered, maybe the same height as Duncan. His hair is brown, cut short military style, and his eyes are a cold blue.

“His name is Cody Grant.” Minnie informs him quietly, setting the salad on the table and taking the lasagna out to rest and cool before they eat. Duncan sits after she gently touches his shoulder, the contact drawing him out of the dozen imaginary murder scenarios going on in his head. They eat in relative silence, both being quite quiet people in general even without the emotional story. Minnie serves the lasagna when they finish their salad, with Duncan giving soft praise of the salad for being a good mix of vegetables and fruits that actually tasted good instead of tasting like bland lettuce. The lasagna goes down with the same silence followed by quiet appreciation, and the two down the rest of their whiskey nearly in unison.

“Dinner was nice.” Duncan says as he leads Minnie out onto the porch to smoke. Minnie smiles in return, putting her hand over his when he begins to take a cigarette of his own out.

“We can share, Duncan. I don’t know if I want a whole one right now.” Minnie hums, flicking open her lighter and lighting one of her own. She takes a long drag off of it, then hands it over to Duncan, shivering as a gust of wind bit through her clothes. A warm jacket is placed around her shoulders, and she sighs contently, bumping her hip against Duncan’s.

“Thank you, cher.” Minnie hums, taking the cigarette from his lips and taking another deep pull from it. She can feel Duncan’s eyes boring into her, but she doesn’t feel scared. Another puff, and she lifts the cigarette to Duncan, her fingertips brushing his lips as she slid the cigarette between them. It almost felt like he was leaning in to the touch.

“D-do you w-wanna stay for a movie? Uhm… uh unless you’ve got plans, of course?” Minnie hesitated, but Duncan merely nodded.

“I was just going to watch one at home. Company would be better.” Duncan replies, taking a puff from his cigarette, then stubbing it out and walking back into the cabin with her. They watch a romantic comedy together, tucked onto her little sofa together. It surprises her how quickly she finds herself comfortable with Duncan, but he is just a very easy person to be around. Theo lays at their feet, dozing away in the light and heat of the fire. Minnie falls asleep just before the credits, curled up against Duncan’s side. Duncan joins her moments later, the warmth of a body against his lulling him to sleep.

When Minnie wakes, Duncan is gone. His jacket is still draped around her, and she’s tucked under a blanket. The fire has been fueled again so that it wouldn’t die on her, and Theo has only moved a couple of feet through the night. She sighs, surprised to have slept without nightmares, and stretches until a series of pops in her joints break the silence. She makes breakfast, letting out Theo partway through cooking when he wakes up to the smell of bacon. In a particularly good mood, Minnie decides to go into town after breakfast to return her DVDs and perhaps rent a couple more. Her day is dull, but she sees Duncan when he goes outside to smoke, and she waves at him from her own porch, a smile tugging at her lips.

They spend the next couple of days together in one way or another. On Monday, Duncan goes out to chop wood while Minnie is out for a run, and by the time she returns, he’s lost his sweater and his undershirt. She watches for a moment, feeling somehow like she’s seeing something she shouldn’t be seeing, especially when she notices his vast collection of scars. She had noticed the first time she had seen him shirtless, but this was a longer view, and she wasn’t nearly as shocked. When Duncan notices her, he gives a little wave, so she approaches and tries to look at anything but his chest. He’s got a lovely coat of fur on his chest and belly, and she has an awful itch to see how thick it is around his dick. The thought of which immediately has her blushing, taking a not-so-subtle look at his crotch, and stammering about needing to check something at her house. Duncan watches her go, partly because he’s questioning what the hell just happened, and partly because she’s wearing yoga pants that hug her ass so tightly it looks like they’re painted on.

Tuesday, Minnie brings Duncan some croissants and muffins, claiming they are extras from the batches she made and that she’ll never be able to eat them all on her own. Duncan does not complain and is very pleased when the sight of him in his reading glasses has her blushing and stammering again on her way out.

Wednesday, they meet in town for lunch at the local diner and then have dinner at Duncan’s cabin, where they once again drink too much and fall asleep watching a movie. Minnie wakes from a nightmare to Duncan holding her against him, petting her hair and shushing her. She takes advantage of the moment to snuggle in close, enjoying the gentle human contact after so long without. Duncan lulls her to relaxation again, then carries her back to her cabin and tucks her into bed. He lets Theo out for her, then puts him back in the house and heads home to find rest for himself again.

Thursday, his accountant calls to arrange an appointment to look into some issues with his other properties, and he agrees to a meeting on Monday. He spends most of the day trying to decide whether or not it is a good idea to ask his neighbour to go with him. He waits until after dinner, knocking at her cabin door and asking if she minds company. He’s brought a book, and she understands his intentions, so they end up sitting on the couch together with quiet piano music in the background. Her feet are under his thigh, and he occasionally takes a break from reading to rub her ankles and calves when his eyes get sore. It feels right, and good, and neither of them say it, but they both wonder if there’s such a thing as ‘meant to be’. Duncan doesn’t ask her about Seattle until he’s about to leave, and he’s shocked when Minnie agrees to spend Saturday to Tuesday with him. She doesn’t complain when he says he’ll pay for Theo to be boarded, and for her flight, and for the hotel. Minnie just thanks him sweetly and presses a kiss to his stubbly cheek.

Friday, Duncan arranges the trip. He shells out, because he can and because he wants a little bite of what his life used to be. He wants to make Minnie feel special, part of him hoping his actions can speak louder than his words since he can’t seem to find the right ones to tell Minnie how he feels. They’ve known each other less than a month, but he feels at home with her, and his retirement is beginning to feel quite good. He checks in with Minnie in the afternoon to find her packed and cheery, cupcakes littering every counter and her table. She gives him one, and when he gets icing in his moustache, she wipes it away with her thumb, then leans in to kiss away another smudge of icing on the corner of his lips. He melts into it, tilting his head and kissing her as if she were as delicate as a butterfly wing. Minnie feels safe, and warm, and home. Once the kiss is broken, she presses her forehead to his and brushes her nose against his with a smile.

Duncan thinks for a moment that maybe this is what peace feels like.

[whindsor]

farmer steve life!!! for @isaaclahys!!! (also sorry it’s so long and so introductory i don’t know how to half ass things)

It was his damn impulsivity, really. Who knew the thing that used to get him in the most trouble would make everything finally go right?

“What’s next, Cap?” That’s what Sam had asked when he’d finished returning all the stones. He’d taken one look at Bucky, thinking of all the conversations they’d had about after the war and retiring, and promptly held his shield out to his friend.

“Dunno. You’re the Captain now.” It was a lame joke from a movie neither one of them liked, but it got his point across. He was done. Done with all the time traveling, and aliens, and shouldering the responsibilities of the world. Now all he wanted was some goddamn peace and quiet. Sam had fought him on it, of course. I’m not good enough for this and this is yours and did you mean to hand this to Buck-eye? But Steve was adamant, and Bucky agreed. The world needed Captain America, and Captain America needed someone to do the things that he couldn’t. And Steve needed his own space. 

That’s how he ended up buying three acres in the middle of Vermont with a house that could barely be described as a fixer-upper and three boxes of books on gardening and livestock. He’d been a city kid his whole life, but he was smart, and strong, and determined. That was what it took to be a farmer, right?

It had been a long time since Steve felt completely incompetent at something, but home renovation quickly reminded him that his moxie was not enough to solve some problems. So he’d taken another trip to the bookstore (“Why not just use Amazon?” “I don’t trust Alexa”) and gotten everything from Carpentry for Dummies to The Magnolia Story, which actually had nothing to do with construction but did make him feel a little more inspired. Once prepared with his newfound knowledge, he took a carpentry pencil to the wood panel of the kitchen and wrote out his list. Every morning he woke up with the sun and got to work, slowly making his way through each project until the sun started setting. Then he drove the old pickup he’d purchased to replace his motorcycle into town to get supper at the local diner, treat himself to a slice of pie and some coffee (even adding a little bit of sugar, he still couldn’t believe how readily available it was) before going back home to crash. 

Once he’d painted over the list as a way to cross off his final project, the house was solid and perfect and empty. Not of things, no. He’d splurged and bought comfortable furniture and a few essentials (and nonessentials), but now that he didn’t have the sound of his hammer pounding or saw spinning, the house seemed quiet. Very quiet. Too quiet. 

A dog. He should get a dog! That was next on the list, he decided. The next morning, he woke with the sun, cooked himself breakfast for the first time in months, and drove the old truck an hour away to the next town over. The shelter was relatively empty, most of its occupants being feral cats with a few stray dogs. He walked the aisles, hands in his pockets as he looked at the few choices. He was just losing hope until he turned onto the last row, spotting a large black Labrador mix stretched out on his bed. He lifted his head, looking him dead in the eye and wagging his tail exactly one time, as if he didn’t want to get his hopes up that Steve was coming to see him. He knelt in front of the cage, the dog eyeing him suspiciously before slowly getting up and inching his way towards the door. Steve slowly held a hand up, and the dog stretched his neck to sniff it, his tail starting to move just a little bit. His tongue barely darted out, licking his fingers.

“Hey, bud,” Steve murmured. The dog’s tail started moving more. “Whattya say we get you outta here, hm?” 

As if he understood him, he started wagging his tail furiously, his claws clicking on the concrete floor as he pranced. The woman with the keys opened the gate, and the dog hesitated for a minute before moving out of the pen and into Steve’s waiting embrace, shaking with excitement as he tried to touch as much of his body to him. A quick leash, a few signatures, and a hastily written check, and Steve and Roosevelt were on their way back home.

With the house done and man’s best friend by his side, now he could finally tackle the garden. Fall was just beginning, and he consulted a few charts and books to prepare himself. He thought Roosevelt might help him with the digging, but the dog was perfectly content to lay on the porch and watch him do all the work. Turns out tilling the earth was really hard, and plowing straight lines even harder. Farming was challenging, and exhausting, and tedious. And he was loving every minute of it. For once, if he screwed up, that just meant he had to go to town for the market, no harm no foul. It was liberating. 

Every morning, Roosevelt woke him up just as the sky started to lighten. They went for a jog, past the few houses that sat quietly over the couple of miles close to his own. The sun was usually cresting the horizon when they got back, but instead of going into the shower, he just changed into jeans and dirty work boots and went out to his rows, checking the water in the soil and adding more where it was needed. He went down each lane, step by step, pulling up the weeds that threatened to choke his little seeds that were trying so hard to grow. 

Then, one day, instead of dirt and weeds, there were tiny green sprouts standing proudly in the ground. He whooped loudly, holding his hands proudly in the air, thinking that this was possibly the best he’d felt in years. Roosevelt looked vaguely unimpressed, but he didn’t care. He had built a house. He had tilled the earth. He was growing things. Whether or not they actually bore anything edible remained to be seen, but right now all that mattered was those little green leaves, waving in the breeze. 

Every day, he got to go outside, feel the sun on his face and the cool breeze as it brought the tellings of fall, and take care of his little plants. Every day they got a little taller, and a little fuller, until they came up to his waist and started bearing the tiniest fruits and vegetables. Every day he helped something grow, instead of trying his damndest to tear it down. A few plants turned into a lot of plants, and soon he expanded to chickens, four little birds nestled in a coop that he built himself. It would take a few months before they could lay eggs, but it would be worth it, he knew. 

One morning, he woke up to Roosevelt growling, his ears perked up and the hackles on his back raised. At first, he thought it was just from the rain storm outside, but then he heard a scratching at the backdoor, and a high pitched whining. He pulled off the covers, hushing the dog and going to the back door. He carefully pried open the big door, the cool, wet air blowing in through the screen door. And there, curled up on his back porch, shivering and soaked, was a big golden retriever with a pink collar. She looked up at him as the door opened, begging to come inside. He obliged, opening the screen and letting her come inside. Roosevelt greeted her as an old friend, jumping around like a puppy again even though the golden was more subdued. 

“Hey, sweet girl. Where’d you come from, hm?” he asked, holding a hand up. She came up to him, her tail between her legs, startling as he reached for the collar. He finally got a hold of it, the pink collar sliding off as she pulled away from him. But at least he could read the tags now, and grab his phone to call the number on the back. “Alright, Daisy, let’s call mom or dad, huh?” he said, tossing a towel in her direction and not worrying about the water drops going everywhere on the tile floor. He dialed the number, pacing slowly as it rang. 

“Hello?” the feminine voice on the other end sounded worried, and he could hear the rain and the rumble of thunder behind her.

“Hi, my name is Steve. Uh, I think I found your Daisy.” he said. 

“Oh my God! Thank you, thank you so much! I promise I’m a good dog owner, but she needed out and the storm blew my fence down and-and-she’s so scared of thunderstorms she just bolted when the first thunder sounded and-” she rambled, clearly relieved but still shaky.

“It’s okay, it happens.” he said with a laugh. He told her his address, and she thanked him about a hundred more times before hanging up. Steve smiled down at his phone, eyed the two dogs laying in front of the fireplace, and went to go make some coffee. Just as he was mixing a little bit of sugar into it, a bright flash of lightning illuminated the kitchen, followed by a loud clap of thunder that shook the walls. He heard Daisy as she yelped and whined, but he also heard the panicked clucking of his chickens. Roosevelt could take care of the dog, he would have to take care of the fowl. 

Steve put on a baseball cap, ducking his head against the rain and going to pull the chicken coop onto the porch. But the birds were so panicked that they were shaking their house, shifting it uncontrollably until the door popped open. He shut it as fast as he could, but one managed to escape, dumbly taking off back into the rain. He swore loudly, shoving the coop under the awning and running after it, his boots sliding in the mud as he rounded the corner towards the front of the house. Who knew chickens were so goddamn fast?! None of the books he read mentioned that!

Luckily, he didn’t have to outrun the chicken, as when he arrived at the front of the house, he found a pretty woman on the porch, soaked to her bones and holding his runaway fowl. He slowed to a walk, giving her a crooked grin.

“You found my chicken.” he said, gesturing at the terrified thing in her hands.

“You found my dog.” she countered with a relieved smile. He held out his hands for the bird, tucking it under his arm and extending his hand.

“Steve.” he said as she shook it.

“Savannah.” she replied. “Thank you, for finding Daisy.”

“Right, yes. Come on, let’s go inside.” he said, nodding towards the front door.

“Oh, I couldn’t - you already saved my dog, I couldn’t impose on you anymore.” she said, looking bashful. Steve shrugged.

“Might as well wait out the storm. Besides, I just made coffee.” he said. He pushed open the door before waiting for her response, holding it open for her until she followed him inside.

“I’ll get your floors wet.” she said apologetically. Again, he shrugged.

“No moreso than I will.” he replied. At the sound of their voices, the dogs came running from their place in front of the fire, Daisy practically launching herself into her mother’s arms. Savannah bent down, telling the dog how scared she was, how she needs to not run away from the house during storms, and how she’s lucky she found friends to help her. Roosevelt, jealous of all the attention, wiggled his way into her embrace. She greeted him happily, thanking him for taking care of her girl and complimenting how chivalrous he was. Steve couldn’t help but smile, going to the kitchen and pouring another cup of coffee. He paused before returning to the entryway, grabbing a zip up jacket. He handed both to her.

“Oh, are you sure?” she said, trying to hide her shivers. He waved her off.

“I own a washing machine, don’t worry about it.” he replied with a laugh. She nodded, slipping it on and unable to hide her relief at the warmth. She held the cup of coffee like a last source of life, her fingers covered by the sleeves of his jacket. He nodded towards the dining room table, situated with the massive windows around it.

“Wanna watch the storm?” he asked. He felt a little awkward, having someone in his house that wasn’t Sam or Bucky. But it felt nice too, making a new friend. Savannah nodded, settling into a chair and gazing out the window. Daisy came and curled up on her feet, finally settled now that Mom was back. Roosevelt, who usually stretched out on the couch, decided to come with his buddies, laying down between Steve and the other two. 

They sat and watched as the rain came down, turning everything to shades of grey. His plants were probably very happy, he realized. Perhaps this would be the extra push for them to really bloom. Conversation was light and casual, nothing serious as the storm went on. He hadn’t actually met one of his neighbors, which was apparently quite unusual in such a small town. He laughed at that, figuring he was on his way to being some urban legend. 

When the rain finally slowed and stopped, he bid goodbye to his neighbor, watching as they made their way across his back pasture towards their own home. Roosevelt looked a little sad that his new friend was leaving, and Steve patted his head encouragingly.

“Don’t worry, bud. It’s a small town. I’m sure we’ll run into them again eventually.” he said, unsure if he was really talking to the dog or to himself. With a sigh, he looked out at the green of the garden, and of the haphazardly moved chicken coop. With a smile, he went outside to go do everything on the chore list that was needed.

After all, farm life didn’t stop just because of a little rain.

[dreamhimcloser]

hey i would like to request a ploy!bts imagine w Y/N, ik its probably a bit weird but im forever getting bias wrecked so it'd be easier if i can read an imagine with all of them in. I dont have any ideas for a plot, and to be honest i dont really mind as I just really love your writing!! I understand if its too much to fit in as there'd be like 8 characters and whatever but i thought i might as well ask :) x (oh and can Y/N be 22, a couple of months younger than jimin and tae as well?) thankss ♥

Thank you so much for your support, I hope you’ll like this!♥

Word count: 3,170 wordsSummary: Four times where TaeKook interrupted other member’s “alone time” with you, and one time it was touching.Genre: Fluff, Poly!BTS as OT!7

“I’m in practice room 6!” Hoseok half-screamed from the other end of the line. His voice gets that loud only when he’s really excited, the mare concept making you giggle to yourself. BTS’s tour has been long and hard on your boys, so you knew they need the break. Hoseok still insisted on bringing you back to the practice room and teaching you a few moves of their newest comeback. He thought you’d enjoy it and has been telling you so for a long time, mostly in text form with way too many emojis.

Now that they’re on a break, you could finally break your old, tired body on that routine of theirs. Well, it wouldn’t really break as you were barely two months younger than Taehyung and young enough to still enjoy life. If only your joints would have agreed to that.

You walked through the row of practice room straight to the door with the big, black six on it, already hearing music from the inside. It wasn’t their music, so Hoseok must have started warming up before you came. You pushed the door to see just that – Hoseok stretching his body this way and that without an actual plan, just the free movement of limbs in that graceful way that’s just so him.

His eyes lit up when he noticed your figure in the mirror, a smile quickly catching up with his excitement as he almost threw himself your way. “I knew those pants would look great on you! So glad I got them for you, babe.”

“They’re super comfy,” you giggled against the rain of kisses Hoseok was inflicting on your lips, lifting you a few centimeters off of the ground. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” Hoseok set you down in front of the mirror, taking his position next to you. “You want to drink something before we start?”

“Nope,” You jumped a little from one foot to another, giving him a fakely-determined face that made him laugh. “Let’s do this.”

The moves were more complicated than you thought, and you were drenched in sweat by the time you noticed a movement in the corner of your eye. Jungkook slipped through the door, the playful expression already plastered on his face. He made his way behind Hoseok, who didn’t notice the intrusion. He stood there for a second, watching Hoseok’s movements before he dove right into the familiar rhythm of them, but in an exaggerated way that used up all your oxygen. You couldn’t stop laughing, your lungs screaming for oxygen you couldn’t give them as you dropped down to the ground.

Hoseok paused when you stopped moving next to him, looking behind him and a second later he was right next to you on the floor.

Jungkook thrived on the attention, dancing even harder to please both you and Hoseok. Hoseok crawled on the floor, holding his stomach as leaned his forehead on your shoulder, hitting you thigh lightly. You threw your head against his shoulder, soon feeling Jungkook pressing into you from the front to join in on the laughter.

It wasn’t the lesson you thought you’d get, but your boys were close and that’s what mattered.

Namjoon studied the Ikea book, reading over instructions. You were watching him from your sitting place on his thighs, hands on his shoulders and eyebrow raised. “You want to build a table?”

“Why do you sound so skeptical?”

You glanced sideways at the “God of Destruction” cup you got him for his birthday. “No reason.”

Your eyes met his when you looked back at him, the narrowed look he was giving you echoed how done he was with you. You wanted to tell him he could do it, but both of you knew he’s more likely to break the table than to build it for use. “Will you help me?”

The answer was clear, you chuckled as you lifted yourself from his lap to look at the box hiding behind his current, warren down table. You pulled it out, using the scissors Namjoon kept in his right drawer to bust the box open. Inside you were greeted with screws, wood pieces and metal attachments.

“I want to build it, you’re here for backup.”

You backed up, lifting your hands in front of you, “Well, we got a badass on our hands.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes, no amount of done being able to stop the laughter from bubbling up inside of him. “I meant I want to see that I can do this! I already know you can.” You sat on the chair he vacated, rolling it closer to him with your feet pushing against the floor. “Besides, I don’t need another meme lord. Kook is already in on it and he’s starting to drag Yoongi into it.”

You watched as Namjoon pulled pieces out of the box, laying them in front of him to look back at the instructions. “Seeing Yoongi being one of the cool kids is pretty funny, though.”

“You are one of the cool kids,” Namjoon deadpanned, holding the two pieces up to piece them together. “This is right?”

“Yes and yes, I am one of the young ones,” You chuckled, leaning back in the chair watching Namjoon frown his eyebrows. The angle in which he tried to connect the pieces was all wrong, you pondered if you should tell him that or let him figure his own way out.

“Y/N!” Taehyung ran into the room, grabbing the arms of the chair and turning you towards him. You heard a sigh from your left and almost laughed at how Namjoon reacted to one of the maknaes stealing your attention once again. They were pretty good at it. “I can’t believe Midoria broke his arm!”

“Doesn’t he always,” You laughed, glancing at Namjoon every few seconds to make sure he’s got a handle on things.

You missed the wood slicing his palm by a second.

You didn’t miss the pained cry, the sound making Taehyung’s flow of blabber about Boku No Hero Academia pause as you both stared at him. Namjoon got to his feet with his good hand cupping his injured one. “I’m good, don’t worry,” his smile showed that he meant it, a little embarrassed but not too bad. “I’ll go wash this for a second.”

You told Seokjin, who cornered Namjoon in the bathroom to treat his hand while you and Taehyung build that table, ignoring the small blood stain that graced the underside of the table.

“It’s an easy recipe, I promise,” Seokjin held onto your hand as he guided you in the direction of the kitchen. His legs bumped into so many furniture that you figured you’ll have a lot of blue marks to kiss tonight. “You can do it, and I’ll be right by your side.”

“That’s brave coming from a man who jumps back when the fire is turned on,” You teased, laughing as he made a sharp noise from the collision his knee made with the bookcase. He should really look where he’s going.

He actually stopped this time, maybe this whole-wood furniture was the one to crack his bone. His face was pulled into a grimace as he rubbed his injured limb, “I think your prince-like boyfriend, the most handsome out of all of your boyfriends, deserves better treatment than this.”

“Of course you do,” You cooed, cupping his face and pecking his forehead. “Come on, let’s get cooking.”

Seokjin smiled so wide you knew he doesn’t need to be told twice. He hurried over to the spread ingredients, way too many for you to begin pieces together what you’ll be eating later. Seokjin was watching you with a smirk, hands fisted on his hips in a ridiculous superhero pose. “Just let me lead the way to food paradise, Y/N. Do you trust me?”

He reached an open palm towards you and you accepted his hand loosely. “Superman and Aladdin is an awful crossover. But, you know, sure.”

He accepted your half-assed agreement like you just screamed your lungs off. You had a good reason to trust him, though, as his directions came at the right time and you never felt like you were helpless in front of the mass of food. You cut your finger once, but it was at the end of it and pretty shallow. It didn’t stop Seokjin from pausing what he was doing and grabbing a Band-Aid for you. His movements were careful, and he kissed the surface of the Band-Aid when it was fastened correctly around your tiny injury, which made you giggle and kiss him for good measure.

Spending time with them like this just reminded you of how much you missed them this entire time. Seokjin was pretty hard to find alone, as he hated being in that state, so this was pretty rare. It felt good, though.

The time flew by with soft music in the background and Seokjin’s horrible laugh. The domestic-ness of it made you warm.

Another thing that made you warm were arms wrapped around your middle. A kiss was pressed to your skin before a cheek pressed to your shoulder, whoever it is holding you tight. The body behind you was pretty long and Namjoon probably wouldn’t do this, so it had to be Taehyung.

You leaned your head against his, appreciating the interaction without voicing it. Seokjin was in the middle of a story, his back was to you but you felt the need to give his story your full attention, even if you already heard it from Yoongi.

It was funnier when Seokjin told it anyway.

The word on Seokjin’s lips came out stuttered when he did turn around to notice the intrusion on your private time. You looked over the head of hair on your shoulder to smile at Seokjin, showing him you are invested in his story.

“She can’t cook when you hold her, Tae,” Seokjin informed him, moving closer to cut his vegetables next to you. You knew it was an act of spite, and you couldn’t help but giggle. Taehyung’s response was muttering in a high-pitched tone and shaking you around, empowering your giggles.

“I can still do a good job, Seok,” You promised, stretching to lean his direction. He noticed, lowering his knife as he closed the distance and kissed you once, twice. “Trust me.”

Seokjin still pouted at you and Taehyung made an unhappy sound about not receiving attention, but you already knew how to handle it, and them.

When Jimin asked you to come to watch a movie in his room, you knew exactly what the glint in his eyes meant. He loved being intimate with each and every one of you, and you were kind of proud of him that he didn’t drag you off for a fierce one-on-one session the first moment he came through the door.

You figured now was the time as you entered his room to find it completely dark. The TV in his room was set on the movie VOD so he was probably keeping that front for a while, both of you already knowing that you won’t be actually watching a movie and being completely alright with it.

That’s just how movie dates with Jimin went.

He moved aside with a grin, holding the blanket up to allow you to comfortably climb in his bed. You noted that Hoseok’s bed was empty, he must have kicked him out to have this alone time with you. His arm was waiting for you to rest your head on, remote control in the other hand as he flipped through the movies.

“You wanted to watch that new action movie, didn’t you?” He hummed, pecking your cheek.

“You’re asking that like we’re actually going to watch a movie,” You giggled, moving to lie on your side and throwing a leg over Jimin’s. He moved closer on instinct, still looking at the TV.

“Let’s start it, maybe it’s interesting.”

You agreed, choosing to play his game. Maybe he’s in one of those I-stole-your-attention moods that he gets sometimes, feeling like it’s an accomplishment even though that’s what you came to do here to begin with.

You settled in, moving to lie on your back with your head on his shoulder. He pulled you closer by the shoulders, settling in himself.

The movie started kind of slow, you heard from friends who watched that the build-up will be worth it when shit hits the fan. You collected mental clues as to where this is going, your concentration moving from Jimin to the movie as you took in the story unfolding in front of you.

That is, until Jimin moved to lie on his side with his hand on your hip. You fought a smile, straining to appear like you didn’t know this was coming. His hand crept under your shirt, dragging goosebumps along your skin until his fingertips reached your bra. He moved along its line and you couldn’t help but pushing your chest up to press against his touch.

Between the movie’s growing plot and Jimin’s distractions, you barely heard the door opened. You did feel someone joining you on the bed, though, the covers lifting and a warm body pressing against you.

“That movie is supposed to be sick! Move over.”

Jungkook, as Jimin’s boyfriend of two years, already knew what movie nights with him meant. He glanced at his older member, waiting to be told to get the fuck out. Jimin held his gaze and you saw him losing the fight just by looking at him.

“Y/N wanted to watch it too,” he ended up saying, scooting to allow more room for Jungkook.

“Thanks, I’ll just watch it and go to bed, cool?”

“Cool.”

You knew Jimin wasn’t completely cool with it, even if Jungkook’s big eyes made him absolutely useless. You took the opportunity to sneak your hand under Jimin’s shirt and draw lines on his stomach, an action that always seemed to give him comfort. His body relaxing against you told you it worked, and the kisses he kept pressing to your head throughout the movie spoke of his thanks.

The only one of your boyfriends who never claimed your attention to himself, even if he really wanted it, was Yoongi. He’d just hang around, catch you when you’re free and if you weren’t, he’d just join in on someone else’s time. You knew he wanted to build their next album pretty quick too, so he was barely at the dorm and made his studio his second home.

Which meant it was up to you to give him the attention he won’t voice the need to.

You pushed the door on his studio open, instantly greeted with half-dim lights, a scatter of clothes around the floor and a very busy boyfriend. You laid the food you made him on his desk beside him and accepted his short, hummed thanks before you started picking the clothes up. You smelt them to see if they needed to be folded or thrown into the laundry bag, an action you’re used to by now.

“Hey kid,” You glanced back to see Yoongi pushed one of the headphones off of his ear. “I’ll be done with this arrangement and I’m with you, okay?”

“Sure.”

Yoongi moved the headphone back and went right back into clicking around to perfect his music. He was always working so hard and this passion of his took from his health and his time with his loved ones, but you knew that’s just what his soul needed to survive.

So you were happy to take care of his health and his time with his loved ones for him.

When the floor was finally clean from straying garments you set down on the opened couch in the back of the studio room. He must have slept here, you figured as you failed to see him last night and this morning, and the bed being open. He didn’t even have a pillow or a blanket, you really wished you would have known yesterday and dropped off something that he can use.

There were over twenty texts waiting for you on your phone, most of them being blabber in the group chat. They were excited about something, probably that drama they started watching together on the airplane.

Yoongi made a prolonged choked sound as he stretched on his chair, hands up high and the headphones around his neck. “I think I’ll just let my ears rest. I’ll go take a shower and we can nap or something, okay?”

You nodded, catching his phone as he threw it your way. The group chat was still going crazy, Yoongi’s phone buzzing constantly next to you as you held your own in your hand.

The door opened maybe a minute or two after Yoongi left, your curious gaze lifting to it wondering if he forgot anything. Taehyung was the one to poke his head through the door, though, and he smiled at you instantly.

“I figured you’ll think the same as me,” he chuckled as he made his way to you, throwing himself down beside you and wiggling until his head was on your thigh. “He spent the night alone yesterday, I didn’t want him to be alone tonight too.”

“You’re the best boyfriend ever,” You booped his nose, moving to card your fingers through his hair.

“And you’re the best girlfriend ever,” Taehyung buried his face between your thigh and the bed, hiding the blush that came from being praised. You knew he was always looking out for Yoongi, a part of you wondering if it’s because they were the least matching. Or that’s what they’ve been told. You knew the two of them mashed together perfectly when they weren’t pressured into it.

Taehyung drifted off to sleep against you, you heard enough noise coming from his and Namjoon’s room last night to know that he hasn’t slept much. You kept playing with his hair, watching Hoseok, Jimin and Jungkook joking around in the chat room like they’re not sitting next to each other in the dorm’s living room.

They always liked to have everyone be a part of what they enjoy.

“When did he get here?” Yoongi questioned, drying his hair out with a small towel.

“Like a minute after you left, he didn’t want you to be alone.” Yoongi chuckled, moving closer to join your fingers in Taehyung’s hair.

“You guys are always looking out for me.”

“Isn’t that was boyfriends and girlfriends are for?” You leaned your head back to make it easier for Yoongi to claim your lips. “Does it bother you we’re not alone?”

You had to ask because unlike the rest, Yoongi could mind and say nothing, give no looks, show no sign that he missed how he wanted things to turn out.

“No,” Yoongi smiled at how well you know him by now. “I love being with as many of you as I can.”

[wildefiction]

Of Course...Mr. Collins

TWENTY-THREE

The rest of the week passed quickly as you finalized plans for the southern California convention taking place the first weekend of December. When you'd asked what would happen once the convention circuit finished for the year, Misha had reminded you that he was in the middle of filming season thirteen, and that it was likely the two of you would be spending a substantial part of the next several months in Vancouver. Although since he lived so close he often came home on the weekends, so he assured you would have some down time. Not that you minded, spending a bunch of time with your prohibitively sexy boss who you also happened to be sleeping with? It was a no-brainer.

Thursday morning dawned chilly, a cold wind and drizzling rain pelted the worn shingles of your roof. Drawing the Venetian blinds open filled the living room with a grey light and you smiled as your cats appointed themselves door guardians, keeping a wary eye on the crows who enjoyed taunting them from the deck.

Padding into the kitchen you set to work gathering the materials to make cheesecake. It was your favorite dessert, and you saved the lengthy process for the holidays. Reaching up to the top shelf of your cupboards required a step stool, as even on tiptoes the mixing bowls eluded you. Whoever had designed the kitchen failed to realize that putting cupboards above the dishwasher made them out of reach for all but the tallest people.

Straining for the stack of glass bowls occupied your attention. Just as you got a good grip on the lip of one your phone rang. Looking around you in search of the source quickly revealed that you'd left the device on the couch. By the sounds of the muffled tone, it had slid between the cushions. Setting the bowls on the counter you ran into the adjacent room, just catching the call before it went to voicemail.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Mr. Collins.” Groaning, Misha sighed on the other end of the call. “You're lucky I need you Ms. [Y/L/N], otherwise you'd be in serious need of an attitude adjustment.” 

The gravelly admonishment made you flush, a crimson heat pooling through your belly. Clearing his throat, your boss quickly changed the subject. 

“So, ahh, I hate to do this but..do you think you could come help us in the kitchen? I may have bitten off more than I could chew with this menu.” 

You were about to tell him you'd be happy to, but he continued, hastily adding that you could bring your sister if you wanted to and that he'd give you a bonus if you'd save his ass. Laughing through the line, you agreed - on the condition that you could bring dessert. “Thanks [Y/F/N], you really are a lifesaver.”

You weren't about to turn down more time with Misha, the salary boost was just an added bonus. He need never know that you had planned on spending the day stuffing your face with cheesecake; deciding to forego the big spread when you realized you'd be spending the holiday alone had saved you a lot of time and money.

Gathering all of the ingredients into a grocery tote along with several mixing bowls, your biggest springform pan and the fresh fruit used for garnish, you moved into your room to change. The bright blue fleece pajama pants littered with sheep that you currently wore didn't exactly feel right.

Not wanting to overdo things, you decided on a pair of soft, plum colored leggings and a form-fitting black tunic top, the hem falling just a few inches past the curve of your thighs. Pulling knee-high, oatmeal colored wool socks on before lacing up your pair of soft leather boots completed the outfit. Spreading a thick layer of dark eyeliner on to accompany the purple and black smokey-eye was just enough to tie everything together, your [Y/E/C] irises framed by the heavier makeup.

Pulling a brush through your long [Y/H/C] hair was enough, you knew if you were cooking that a fancier hairstyle wouldn't last long anyhow.

The highway held few cars, making the drive pass quickly. Pulling into Misha’s neighborhood, you were surprised by the number of cars parked both in his driveway and lining the street. Knocking on the heavy front door left you standing on the porch for a few minutes. After several tries,  you squeezed the handle, and finding it unlocked, let yourself in.

The maelstrom that greeted you was intense. West chased Tom and Shep through the house while JJ sat on the plush rug of the living room and stacked blocks with Maison. Gen and Daneel reclined together on the overstuffed sofa, glasses of red wine clutched in their hands, chatting as they kept a watchful eye on the girls. Rather than being overwhelmed, you felt like part of the family, a smile passing over your face as you took in your surroundings and made your way to the kitchen.

Vicki stood behind the cool marble covered island that dominated the center of the room. The sharp knife in her hand sliced through vegetables with ease. Seeing you walk in, she lowered the blade, and, wiping her hands on the half apron tied around her waist; enveloped you in a bone crushing hug. 

“[Y/F/N]! Thank you so much for coming to help with dinner...you know how Misha can be.” Thinking back to the first night you’d met the Collins’, you rolled your eyes and laughed. “So, what scheme has he thought of this time?” 

Lifting your bags up onto the counter, your [Y/E/C] eyes widened in shock at the thick piece of cardstock Vicki handed across her work station. 

“He..he actually made a menu?” “Where is our host anyhow?” Vicki snorted under her breath in mild amusement, motioning vaguely over her shoulder with the knife she’d taken up to finish her task.

Turning your attention to the set of double french doors behind her, you wandered across the cool wooden floor and looked through the glass. Misha, Jared and Jensen were all huddled around a large grill, where two twenty-pound turkeys were trussed and stuffed with herbs; slowly turning over the open flame. Jared noticed you first as you leaned against the oak door frame, impressed at their dedication. 

“Why am I not surprised that you are actually roasting turkeys over an open fire?” Jensen held up his hands and backed away from the heat, shaking his head while he tilted an amber bottle to his lips.

“Not me, Jared and I are giving him shit. There’s no way Misha can do this and have them finish before next year. We’re taking bets on how long it’ll take until we get to eat.” 

“Supervising, you might say..” Jared quipped as he moved to wrap his arms around you in greeting.

Misha’s attention finally rose from the spit and his eyes met [Y/F/N], a slow smile twisting over his face at the woman standing in his doorway. She looked amazing; a glass of wine in her hand as she smiled back at him, an amused expression on her face. 

“Well boys, have fun out here in the cold. I’m going back inside to surround myself with beautiful women...and cheesecake.” A torrent of wind off of the bay swirled around you as you stepped back into the warmth of the house.

There was a great deal of work to be done for the two desserts you had promised. Melting white chocolate over a double boiler while simultaneously reducing fresh raspberries into a puree forced you to abandon the glass of merlot Vicki had poured you. With those tasks complete you began assembling the base recipe for the cheesecakes themselves, the onyx monster of a stand mixer working overtime to whip the ingredients together. Crossing the kitchen to pour freshly ground coffee beans into the espresso machine for the tiramisu cheesecake took only a moment, the compelling smell warming you from the inside out.

Two hours later, you pulled the hot desserts from the double ovens set into the wall. Lowering the cakes to cooling racks well out of reach of small hands, you sighed; content. The smell of roasting turkey wafted through the open door when you poked your head outside to check how things were going. Rosemary, thyme and orange married together beautifully, a hint of sage rounding out the bouquet. The smug look on Misha’s face at his success caught your eye, his piercing blue eyes lit with satisfaction, that damning smile of his adding to the heat that burned through you.

Setting the expansive table distracted you well enough. A smaller, square oak table had been set aside just for the kids and you found your mind wandering to how it would feel to have your own child joining the others as they clambered up into their chairs. Shaking your head, you huffed at the thought. You didn’t like children. Mentally berating the biological clock that occasionally screamed at you to procreate, you shoved the idea away from your conscience. You could barely take care of yourself, adding a two-legged little gremlin to the mix wasn’t even a somewhat good idea. Pouring yourself a second glass of wine, you settled into one of the twelve heavy chairs that flocked the stretch of dark wood quickly filling with a myriad of dishes.

Dinner played out as if it were the scene in a hallmark movie. The  food was delicious, Misha spending twenty minutes carving up both turkeys before setting large, oval platters of meat at each end of the table. Tureens filled with mashed potatoes, both sweet and gold sat nestled amongst casseroles of stuffing, whole cranberries lending their beautiful color to the tablescape. Massive biscuits rested in napkin lined baskets; an old recipe handed down to Gen from her grandparents. Misha’s homemade wine flowing freely while the kids enjoyed fresh squeezed lemonade, West excitedly telling anyone who would listen that he’d help make it.

“[Y/F/N], where’s your sister? Did she not want to join us?” Jared’s hazel eyes were warm as they turned to you, his fingers laced with Gen’s. 

“She’s decided to stay in Hawaii for another week, actually.” Vicki’s eyes widened as she realized that you’d planned to be home alone today and she grimaced.

“If Misha hadn’t called you to help, what exactly would you be doing right now?” Shrugging, you swallowed another drink of the fruity liquid in your glass before answering. 

“Probably stuffing myself full of cheesecake and watching movies in my pajamas.” 

“What?! There are at least three food groups in cheesecake, it’s a nice, balanced meal.” 

“I’m not complaining though, this turkey is a-maaaazing Misha.”

After hours spent shopping, prepping and cooking the veritable feast laid out before you, everyone was overfull within thirty minutes. Jared and Jensen herded the children upstairs to change into pajamas and get cleaned up while Daneel, Gen and Vicki cleared the table. Back in the kitchen you pulled the fresh raspberry puree and heavy whipping cream from the refrigerator, spreading the fruit topping evenly across the surface of one of the cheesecakes. White chocolate curls and whole berries decorated the outer ring and sides of the confection. 

Adding the heavy cream to a stainless steel charger produced beautifully fresh cream for the tiramisu cake and, carrying them out to the table gleaned the interest of everyone in the house. A concerned look fell over Jensen’s face as he warred with the idea of whether or not he could fit additional food in his stomach. Laughing, you assured him there was plenty and that he could eat it later. With a curt nod of his head, he and Jared followed Misha back outside and you turned questioning glances to the women sitting around you. 

“It’s become a bit of a tradition when we’re all together to light up the fire pit and disconnect for awhile. C’mon [Y/F/N], you’ll see what we mean.” Vicki’s fingers stretched out to envelope your own as she moved to lift several large blankets from a basket by the door. Tilting her head in invitation, you followed her and the others outside where the boys already sat, the small children clambering up into their father’s laps. As you moved to sit in one of the adirondack chairs huddled near the iron pit of dancing flames, Vicki glared at you. 

“Don’t even think about running off by yourself, you come sit with us. You’re family now, whether you like it or not.”

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

TAGS: @jamielea81 @wings-of-a-raven

[bladesofyuri]

My Excess Weight is Falling Off: How, Why, and What’s Different

This is a different kind of post for this blog, but I think it’s worth sharing.

If you’ve been following me for a few months, you may have seen a post I made asking for fitness/healthy lifestyle/accountability buddies. My weight is something that has always fluctuated and that I’ve always had a hard time with, even when I was dancing all the time and trying all sorts of “diets.” Over the past two years I found myself in a really dark place, and the weight started piling on for a number of reasons. No, I’m not telling you that as an excuse--it isn’t one. I simply wasn’t taking care of myself like I should’ve been. I was eating fairly well but not well enough, skipping meals I just felt too tired to eat (and sometimes, I’d go an entire day without one), and when I’d go to the gym, I wouldn’t do much more than the elliptical for an hour or a half hour plus some resistance training that really wasn’t challenging me. I knew I needed to work differently, but I had no motivation and my heart just wasn’t in it at all. The combination of graduate school and work was, to be frank, kicking my ass. On top of that, my social life had become nonexistent, I had no boyfriend, and didn’t really feel like I had anyone aside from two close friends who no longer even live in the same city to talk to. 

I’d even for the first time in my life grown very uncomfortable at the gym, despite knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt from my own experiences on the other side that nobody cares about what you’re doing or is even paying attention to you there. Still, I felt like a big, bloated puff waddling around it in comparison to everyone else and more importantly, compared to how I used to feel in it: strong, confident, and calm. 

Needless to say, I wasn’t exactly the epitome of health at the time.

There was something else too that’d been bothering me: more than anything, I wanted to get back into dance, despite having been out of it so long. I just needed that familiarity, that something, even if I wasn’t really in good enough shape in my mind to be doing it. One evening, I saw an advertisement, and I decided to try a class. 

That in itself was a little jarring: I suppose in the 7 years I’d been out of dance, I’d forgotten how tiny dancers really were. I’d always been thicker for a dancer, at my fittest usually being mistaken for a cheerleader or gymnast. This was also the time when I was extremely involved with martial arts, which literally shredded my fat in those tougher spots right off. I’d gone from literal fighting shape with a six-pack to fat, and on my kind of build (which is average height and very curvy), even being a little chubby shows. 

So here I was, in this dance class for a style I’d never tried before feeling very much like a potato among shorter, more toned versions of Victoria’s Secret models. It was a bit overwhelming to say the least, though it was fun. 

That said, there were a ton of concerns going through my head. This class happened to be one where you’re partnered by men the whole time, and I began to wonder what effect my weight may have on them. There were no lifts at least--but moves that involved leaning, dips, etc. were common. Not to mention, I imagined my larger body must be much harder to lead.

So, I worked out a little more, still doing the same types of thing. Elliptical, treadmill, occasional resistance. I tried cutting carbs (more on that later), had a brief and desperate stint of limiting myself to one small meal a day (unhealthy and disastrous--I gained weight), and several other things that were so ineffective they aren’t worth mentioning. I thought that maybe despite my age my metabolism had already begun slowing down rapidly. 

Not knowing what else to do, I decided to see a nutritionist. 

We started meeting regularly, and she worked to figure out what exactly was going on. On paper, I wasn’t eating particularly badly: I had a few off days here and there, but combined with the amount of exercise I was getting daily (from walking back and forth to work and class, those 3-4x a week gym sessions, plus the new dance class additions), she had a little trouble deciphering what was wrong at first. I was particularly frustrated--I’d lost weight before, dropped my body fat percentage to a staggeringly low but still healthy amount for a female, and yet nothing I was doing now seemed to be working. My weight just fluctuated naturally as it always had. I had my resting metabolic rates checked, and some other tests run too.

Well, I thought when everything checked out to be within normal range, at least I was finally having some fun. I loved my dance classes and each made me feel quite a bit better on a daily basis even if I did still have those occasional nights when depression and anxiety really decided to kick in. Though the styles were different, I was doing something I loved again and meeting new people who were kind, informative, and encouraging, and that was more than I’d had in some time.

It still wasn’t enough for me, though. Not really. I’d dance around my apartment, listening to the kinds of music I used to dance to--hip-hop in particular. It always had been my strongest style, and I decided to try out the studio’s advanced class. I had, after all, done it for many years, and was still pretty confident I could move like I used to if my probably hilarious apartment dancing was any indication.

I took a class. 

I realized they filmed everything. 

And I watched those videos back. Sure, I still had it and had somehow managed not to lose much of my skill, even if I had been out of it for so long. No doubt this is thanks to the physical activity I’d maintained, even if it wasn’t up to par with what I’d done in my dance and martial arts days. Seeing that first video generated two thoughts in my mind:

1. I was still good. Very good. 

2. I was still good, even keeping up with the pros in my class, but the person dancing in that video wasn’t me. 

People have different opinions when it comes to being on camera. Some think it’s unhealthy to use it as a motivator, believing that it can develop an obsession. But I’m not that type, and in my mind, using videos to hold myself accountable is no less unhealthy than sitting on Tumblr feeling sorry for myself and eating myself into a blob, which is exactly what I felt I was. Nobody was “shaming” me. It wasn’t society or beauty standards or anything of the sort. I simply wasn’t happy with myself, and this video proved it. 

I kicked it into high gear. As much as I may not often admit it I’m a highly competitive person. I see either someone who’s better than me at something and what to get to their level or surpass them, or I see myself and want to overcome that current self and transform it into something better. This, for better or worse, was exactly the blend of both I needed. I could dance like the people around me, and where I was a little rusty I knew I could get back, but I didn’t look as strong as them just because of my body.

I made small changes to my diet. I’ve always had a running joke about having the appetite of a lineman, and to this day that’s true. I like my food, and I like to eat. A lot. But I changed what I ate and when. I eat no breads or rice after lunch, instead loading up on lean meats and veggies. I don’t snack on things like yogurt at night anymore, either. Instead, I whip up some egg beaters (I highly recommend the southwestern flavor, by the way) and throw some lean, deli-cut turkey breast in with it. That’s my current go-to late-night snack. Other snacks are usually hard-boiled eggs or something along the lines of raw vegetables, fruits with a light dusting of Stevia over the top for those sweet tooth days, and carrot fries with a light ranch. I also make good use of frozen fruits that keep forever and that I can throw into a blender with some Greek yogurt. Breakfast is often something like a grilled chicken breast with eggs (my ultimate weaknesses is Chick-fil-A’s egg white grill when I need a speedy breakfast on the go), a poached egg with half an avocado and a slice of wheat toast, or something along those lines. I’ve also tried the toast + peanut butter + banana thing, though it was a bit sweet for my taste. Lunch is a bit broader: I enjoy salads but not enough to have them daily, and lunch admittedly tends to be my least healthy meal of the day. I had a cheeseburger today for example, which I do not recommend, but if you’re going to do something like that, just make sure you’re opting for a side salad or something similar instead of fries. My aim for lunch tends to be a light salad or a something like a burrito bowl with very little to no rice. I focus on lean meats and vegetables for both lunch and dinner, so depending on what I’ve prepped or am planning to make/have, I make the according adjustments to my lunch. 

One thing I cut out completely--and a cut that pains me as it will my fellow Southerners--is sweet tea. I love sweet tea. I grew up on sweet tea and it’s quite literally the taste of home. This is something I had to ween myself off of over the course of a couple weeks on the days I ate out, ordering 1/2 sweet, 1/2 unsweet drinks. I’m happy to say I’ve already broken the habit, and it’s already become natural for me to order or make unsweet tea and either drink it as is or add just a pinch of natural sweetener in. Likewise, I cut back on sugary coffee drinks, though that wasn’t as difficult for me. I don’t mind the taste of black coffee, so that’s all well and good.

Once I did all of these things, I started noticing little things. Those leggings that had been too tight suddenly started to fit perfectly. My workout pants that I’d gone a size up on because of my chubbier areas started falling off--literally, to the point where I constantly have started having to pull them back up. My stomach and waist area--which is the one and only area I always have lost weight quickly in--has already gone from being jiggly to flat. My lovely (yes, this is sarcasm) Viking arms I inherited from my dad and my thick cyclist legs I inherited from my mom are already slimming down and toning. I started bodyweight circut classes and free weights again, though I definitely still enjoy my resistance days. It turns out I don’t need any additional cardio now that I’m dancing again, and I really only do short stints of it for stamina purposes.

And suddenly, it’s all been put into perspective. 

My biggest block was settling for not enough. 

I was eating in a more healthy way than the average person, but it wasn’t enough. I was working out regularly, but not in a way that was enough. I had no real routine or regulation for what I was eating beyond just staying under a certain calorie count, and not a good enough routine in the gym.

I’m not saying don’t go get on that elliptical or treadmill if that’s something that makes you feel good and helps you. Everybody’s different. Some people really can drop weight as long as they’re up and moving, and it really doesn’t matter what they do during that time. Others, like myself, need more specific exercise, and from experience I know mine is a combination of dance or martial arts and weights/bodyweight. Running does nothing. Ellipticals do nothing. Cycling does nothing. I have to do weights, and I have to have workouts that engage my entire body.

I’m happy to say within the past month of really hitting it this hard, not only have I lost weight, but I’m nearly down a size in everything (the latter of which is more over the course of two months). It really was just making the right changes and remembering what works for me, along with figuring out the new things that work for me since I obviously no longer live under my parents’ roof like I’d done the first time I’d really gotten fit. I had to figure out a way to cook for myself and make the right decisions when I do get fast food. I had to really start putting in the right work at the gym.

And you know what? It’s worth it.

I’ve even developed something of a social life through my classes again, and I’m loving every minute of it. It’s worth it to go into those classes and meet people, encourage them while they encourage you, and let them help to make you the best you can be through their sheer dedication and skill. 

As for the darker mental side of it all, depression and anxiety don’t go away, but you can train yourself to push through them again, and you might just find those spells starting to dwindle a bit when you do. For me in every way, shape, or form, these changes have all been worth it. 

Find what works for you and go for it not halfway, but all out. 

[carterashofficial]

“Y'know, your roof may not be the safest place for us to stargaze.” for Alda & cullen?

So this has been sitting in my ask box for a while and now I finally got the writing mojo back to put words into sentences

thank you for the ask. it got long

The icy breeze sliced through Skyhold. No hint of spring, no, just more snow and sleet and, if they were exceptionally unlucky, another blizzard. Everything was frozen. Too frozen, in Alda’s opinion. And everyone else’s as well, she figured.

She paused by the tavern to adjust her scarf after a gust found its way to her neck.

“Ground’s too frozen to even think of plantin’ shite.”

She went still. The pair of soldiers were leaving the tavern, oblivious to the cloaked girl barely ten feet away.

“Aye, I know. Miss me some carrots. Might write me mam and tell her that. Get a right laugh out of her. Me, likin’ me veg.”

“No, I was thinkin’ of potatoes… nice and fried thin… Or tomatoes. Bloody hell, I’d give anythin’ for a tomato. Imagine tha’ Greg.” The soldier spat, then cursed. “Too fuckin’ cold for anythin’. C’mon. Get back in before our bits get frostbite.”

Alda’s sigh was stolen away on another burst of wind.

Haven had the gardens of the residents. The Chantry garden. There were plenty of winter vegetables, and other ones put in storage or dried. Now-

Something else to worry about along with everything else. It’d be a blessing from the Maker if no one starved before shipments of food arrived. Josephine had ordered them, Leliana’s spies and Cullen’s soldiers escorting them to make sure they got here…

She shivered and pulled her cloak tighter around her.

There was too much to worry about. And that wasn’t even looking to the future with Corypheus or Samson or what the red lyrium meant or what would happen to her after the Inquisition- and then the other Mages too-

Her cousin would be laughing at her right now and telling her to relax to focus on the immediate problem. And he’d be right.

No use fretting over something that wasn’t going to happen for weeks. Or perhaps years. Or Maker-knew-when.

Alda leaned back, hood falling off, to stare up at the sky. And noticed the light on in the Commander’s tower.

Of course he wasn’t asleep. There was a running bet in the ranks, according to Varric, that Cullen slept sitting upright with his eyes open and candles on, sword in hand, so he was always ready for an attack. Or so any enemy spy would never know when he was sleeping.

She picked her way up the icy staircase towards the tower. The snow was compacted and slippery. Using her ice magic wouldn’t help, nor would her lightning.

Alda smiled inwardly. If she could cast fire magic, now would be a perfect time.

It wouldn’t hurt to try, now, would it?

She whispered a little spell into her palm and focused, feeling the heat gather into a tighter ball, waiting-

And the flame flickered. Barely enough to light a small candle, but it was there, not that it would do much of anything.

Alda sighed and shook the spell away. Fire magic had always been a challenge. If there was an upside, there was never any threat of her burning down the Circle. She continued up the stairs, following that train of thought.

No, she never burned down the Circle, barely a collection of candles. She’d been one of the few mages with a tinder box.

And-

She balked at the door to his office. Why had she come up here?

Cullen didn’t need someone to tell him to go to bed. He was a grown man, the Commander of the army. Perhaps he was asleep, and had forgotten to blow out the candles. Or he was taking a bath, or working, or-

“Maker’s breath,” she whispered to herself.

But she was still outside his door.

The next frigid blast of wind decided for her.

Alda knocked, waited a beat, and then slipped inside. “Cullen?” She cursed herself. She shouldn’t be bothering him.

The floorboards creaked overhead. “Harding? Leave the report- Oh. Inquisitor.” Cullen’s face appeared at the top of the ladder to the upper half of the tower. “Do you need something?”

“I- no, I just saw your lights were lit.”

“Ah. Yes.” He scratched the back of his head. “I’ve got a bit of a problem.” Cullen shifted, and she got a view of the rest of him. He was still wearing his armor, but even more furs. His ears were red.

“What sort-” Cold air brushed past her. “Do you have a window open?”

Cullen made a face and gestured to the ladder. “Not exactly. It’s easier to show than describe.”

Alda frowned, curious, and started up the ladder. At the top, he offered her his hand to haul her up. And then she could see the problem. It explained why he had to many layers on. “Oh, Maker.”

He shrugged. “It could be worse.”

Alda stared at the gaping hole in his ceiling, watching fat white snowflakes drift down. Dead ivy clung to the wall and remaining timber planks, empty tendrils swaying in the breeze. “What, a bunch of bats could be up here?”

“Or deepstalkers.”

She gave him a dark look. He knew she was terrified of deepstalkers. But it was only fair play after mentioning bats.

He halfheartedly tried to hide a smirk. “No, I don’t have a window open. But it feels like I do.”

“Let me take a look.” Alda moved closer, peering at the hole. It would be possible to magic up a barrier… But she’d need to get a look from atop the roof, too. For all she knew, the wood planks were rotted away on the top and the barrier would do nothing if the rest of the ceiling caved in. “Could you boost me up?”

Cullen’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead in surprise. “Onto the roof?”

“Where else?”

He walked around his bed and grabbed a spindly ladder. “I’ve got something even better. You first, Lady Trevelyan.”

Alda made sure her hood was going to stay on before she started up the ladder. the exterior was slippery, far more than the stairs. And deceptively so. Under a thick layer of snow was ice, slicker than spilled oil. “Watch out, it’s slippery.”

Cullen nodded and hauled himself up. Once at the top of the ladder, he swept out an arm and used it to swipe the snow off the roof. “Andraste’s ass, it’s cold.”

She nodded silently, knowing that her face was going to be bright red from the wind and cold as soon as they were back inside. Alda light up a tiny bauble of light in her hand and scrutinized the wood under the ice. “Does that look fine to you?”

He climbed another rung of the ladder and leaned in. “Yes.”

“Oh, good.” Alda rocked back on her heels. “I can magic up a barrier for the time being until you requisition someone to fix this hole.”

“That would be perfect, Inquisitor.”

“Or,” she added, looking up at the sky. “You ask for a trapdoor. Look at that this view.” Her breath left her in a sigh. The whole world was alight with stars, diamonds and crystals hanging over velvety blackness. The snow on distant mountains glimmered. And-

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen said softly.

Bright lights flickered across the heavens, little dashes of pink and green.

Alda shifted as the breeze picked up again, and-

Her boot slipped.

Even sitting on her ass, it was enough to have her sliding down towards the edge of the roof, cloak tangled around her other leg-

“Alda!” Cullen’s hand closed around her arm like a vise, keeping her from sliding any further. Slowly he pulled her back up, relaxing his grip once she’d found her footing again. But he didn’t let go of her. “Careful. We need you.”

She stayed silent, waiting for the adrenaline to pass. It’d just been so sudden…

“Alda. Are you alright?”

She nodded. “Just… I wasn’t expecting to slip.”

His eyes didn’t leave her face.

No, Alda had to get off the roof, stop looking at him like that, he was too close and her heart felt like she was still slipping on the ice. There was snow stuck in his curls. And he was warm compared to the icy wind-

She cleared her throat. “You know, your roof may not be the safest place for us to stargaze.”

“Right.” He broke eye contact and started down the ladder. “I’ll have to warn whoever fixes the hole. We don’t need to lose anyone to the ice.”

“No, not after Haven.” Alda followed him down. “That would be a cruel twist of fate.”

Cullen brushed snow off her shoulder. “Indeed. Are you certain you’re alright?”

“Yes.” Alda adjusted her cloak and ignored the chunk of ice that was stuck against the small of her back. “And just step back so I can cast a barrier.”

He did as she said, leaving her under the open roof .

Alda frowned in concentration, picturing the symbols and lines of a favorite ice shield. It would just take some manipulation to get it into a barrier… She flicked her wrist and cast the base, working on the rest of it. It took more energy than she thought to get it fixed in place. She’d poured her strength into it, giving it more than enough to feed on. She wouldn’t have to sit by, alert, while it was in place. “That should do it.”

“Thank you, Inquisitor.”

And there he was, back with the title. Alda smiled faintly to hide her distaste of the rank. “Now you can stop smelling like a wet Fereldan dog.” She glanced over at him. “That was a joke, Cullen.”

He recovered quickly. “I thought that was you,” he teased back.

“I’m not wearing enough furs to cover a great bear. Why would I smell?”

“I- I don’t know.” Cullen’s own smile was soft as he gestured to the ladder down. “I’ll walk you back to the castle. We don’t need you slipping again.”

Alda slid down the ladder and waited for him. “That was a once-in-a-lifetime slip. Usually I never slip on ice.”

“Hm… sounds like magic.” He offered her his arm, other hand on the door. “Ready?”

She checked her hood and scarf. ���Yes. Lead the way, Commander,” she said as she took his arm.

The wind hit them in the face. It tore through her clothes, like icy needles stinging her. Cullen’s arm shifted, going from being next to her to now being around her, shielding Alda from the worst of it.

She squinted, seeing a lantern. “Nearly there, Commander.”

And then they were. He heaved the door open against the wind. “See you tomorrow, Inquisitor. Goodnight.” And he paused, like he wanted to say more.

Frigid air was coming into the warm castle. Alda nodded. “Be careful on your way back, Commander. Goodnight.” She watched him let the door go, one final gust hitting her in the face before the door slammed shut with a resounding thud.

[sportyheroesimagines]

Parent-Teacher Meeting II {Bakugou Katsuki}

Y’all already know what’s going on. More domestic Baku coming through! I got at least five or six asks requesting more daddy and the gang. And as domestic trash queen, I am more than happy to oblige. Y’all enjoy~ Domestic Todoroki Extension Story 

You look down at your son. He is sitting in the chair next to you, hunched over and twiddling his thumbs anxiously. Katsuhiko shyly peeks up at you. His face is tinted red. You don’t understand it. Really. You don’t understand why you’re here, sitting in a meeting with his teacher to talk about “behavioral issues.” Behavioral issues? Your Hiko? It just seems impossible to you. You look back at his teacher who is sternly staring back at you.

“So ... why am I here again?” You ask.

The teacher leans forward, straightening something on her desk before leaning back again. She crosses her legs and lays her hand on her knees. 

“Katsuhiko has been displaying some very ... inappropriate behavior,” his teacher says, “He pinched the bottoms of the Todoroki girls. I’m sure you can see the problem here.”

You turn your head to Katsuhiko. Your Hiko? Not your Hiko. It just seems absolutely impossible to you. Your quiet baby? Your sweet baby? Katsuhiko’s face burns a bit redder, clearly becoming more upset. He balls his hands into fist, clutching his pants as he sniffles.

“I-I do-don’t know wh-why I’m in tr-trouble, Mommy,” he starts, “I-I didn’t do an-anything wrong.”

You run your hand through his wheat blond hair in attempt to calm down him down a bit. Katsuhiko blinks up at you through the glossiness of his (e/c) eyes. He might be in trouble, but you can’t stand you see your baby so distressed. You give him a gentle smile as he tries to regain his breath, hiccuping slightly.

“Hiko, calm down, baby. Everything will be okay,” you say calmly, “But you know you can’t touch people like that.”

He blinks back the tears in his eye, “B-But why not? D-Daddy said i-it was okay.”

Your eye twitches, “Daddy said it was okay?”

He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, “Uh-huh. Daddy pinches your butt all the time. And he said he does it ‘cause he likes you a lot. And I like Yoko and Yuki too, Mommy. They're my friends.”

Of course. You massage your forehead with your hand, simultaneously hiding your flush face and rubbing away the headache you felt coming on. Of fucking course. If it wasn’t Katsumi letting curse words slip, then it had to be Katsuhiko pinching other girls’ butts. Honestly, you thought it was cute that you children looked up to their father. He is their hero in every sense of the word ... but sometimes you wish they didn’t mimic every damn thing their father did. 

You drag your hand down you face and turn back to his teacher. She is now sitting with her hands folded on the desk, sitting a bit straighter.

“I am terribly sorry,” you say, bowing slightly, “I can assure you that this will not happen again. Will Katsuhiko receive any more punishment from the school?”

“He has no record of trouble and he is a model little student otherwise. The Todoroki family doesn’t plan on taking any action, so we’ll let him off with a warning this time.” 

You stand, holding out your hand to your soon, “Thank you. Come on, baby. We’re going home, alright?”

He nods, still looking down at his shoe laces. You can see the tears sliding down his tiny nose and dripping down as he reaches for your hand. You lead him out the class, but you stop just outside of the door, crouching down to his level. You lift his chin; when his gaze meets yours, you smile gently and wipe his slightly damp cheeks. 

“Hiko, I know you didn’t mean to do anything bad, but you can’t touch people like that, okay? Especially if you don’t have their permission.”

“Okay, Mommy.”

“And you have to promise me that you won’t do it again.”

Katsuhiko nods his head, “I promise. Am ... am I in trouble, Mommy?”

You place a kiss on his forehead, “No, baby, you aren’t in trouble.”

But your father is fucking dead meat when he gets home.

Bakugou rolls his shoulder as he walks through the door. He kicks off his boots and drops his work duffel by the coat rack. He shuffles through the living room where his kids sit watching television, stopping at the sofa to ruffle Katsuhiko’s hair and plant a kiss on Katsumi’s cheek. Bakugou makes his way into where you are, following the scent of food. He leans against the island at the center of the kitchen and waits for your to turn and show him your pretty smile. But you don’t. You stand at the counter, busying yourself with dinner preparations. Your brows are furrows as you pound meat with an intensity that one could call overkill. 

“I’m home,” he says.

You hum and nod your head as you slice meat into thin strips, placing the beef into the skillet. Bakugou raises his brow. You always give him a kiss when he gets home. Especially when he comes home from a mission. 

“Damn, can I not gonna get a fucking kiss?”

You stab your knife into the wooden cutting board. Looking him up and down with a raised eyebrow, you place your hand on your hip, “I don’t know. Can you?” 

Bakugou smirks at your defiant tone. He closes the distance between the two of you in three stride. He stands over you, staring at your lips as his deviant hand tail up the sides of your thighs, preparing to cup your ass as his lips descend upon yours. Your eye twitches when your feel the pads of his fingertips trail over your buttocks. You grab his wrist, pulling his hands away from you as stare him down sternly. Bakugou blinks. 

You return your attention to prepping the vegetables, “School called.”

“What the fuck for?” He asks, leaning against he counter, “Is Katsumi getting in trouble again?”

“Nope,” you say shortly, punctuating your stament with the rough chop of your knife, “They called about Hiko.”

“Hiko?”

You hum and slide the vegetables from the chopping board into the pot, “Apparently, he’s been pinching the butts of the girls in his class. What do you think about that, babe? I wonder where he picked that up from?”

Fuck. Bakugou clears his throat when you shoot him a glare. 

“Stop corrupting my children!” You snap, pointing your blade at his chest, “I’ve told you to stop pinching my butt in front of the kids!”

“It’s not my damn fault that your ass looks fucking hot in everything!”

“You’re a grown-ass man! Have some self-control.”

“It’s hard to have self-control when you’re walking around here looking like that!” He says, gesturing to your whole body, “How am I supposed to keep my fucking hands off you?

“Well, good luck keeping your hands off me for the next two weeks,” you huff, “Because you are cut off.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No, I’m not,” you say, stirring your pot and adding the meat to it, “Now go help the kids wash up. Dinner’s almost ready.”

“I’m not getting my fucking kiss, am I?”

“What do you think?”

Bakugou sighs, lowering his head and rolling his eyes, “Right. Katsumi, Hiko, let’s get washed up!”

[caseofthestolenspecs]

Promnis Week: Day 6

Dancing / Ignis finding out Prompto got pushed off the train

(For @promnisweek ! Also cross-posted to my AO3 account.)

Prompto woke that morning to an empty dip on the opposite side of the bed and lukewarm sheets in its stead. Ignis was already up. Normally, that wouldn’t have been anything out of the ordinary (he liked to sleep in; Ignis didn’t), but after their rather...late night together the previous evening, Prompto had expected to see Ignis’ snoring face right in front of him the second he opened his eyes. Apparently, not even staying up until 3AM could keep Ignis Scientia away from his 7AM cup of Ebony. He had a little bit of a problem.

Yawning, Prompto rolled over to check the time on his phone. 9:27AM. Still too early for him, but the guilt of being a lazy ass while Ignis had likely been up for hours won the battle against the sleepies in his eyes. He forced himself out of bed, pulled on a random pair of boxers that were lying on the floor (were they even his?) and set out to go about his zombie-like morning routine.

On his way to the bathroom, though, his footsteps slowed to a halt when he heard something in the air. It was muffled and low, but the way it seemed to bounce up and down and drone constantly told Prompto that it was music. Music. Huh. That was odd. Was Ignis listening to the radio? Ignis wasn’t really a huge fan of the radio (“too much mindless drabble instead of music”, he’d say) so if he was in fact listening to the radio, well, it was a rare occasion. Curious, Prompto slowly padded down the hall, stopping when he approached the kitchen doorway.

Oh, it was the radio, all right. But what intrigued him more was the additional hum in the air, the one that wasn’t blaring from the speakers.

Ignis, dressed in his favourite powder-pink robe with his usual apron strapped to his front, hummed along to the radio, a carton of eggs in one hand as he rifled through the refrigerator with the other. “Ah,” he declared when he found what he was looking for, exchanging the eggs for the brick of butter that had been buried behind several takeout containers in Leftover Hell. He closed the door with a bump of his hip, turning to head for the counter where he’d been working. A whole slew of ingredients lined the surface, and on the stove sat various pots and pans in several states of meal prep. Apparently, Ignis was planning a huge breakfast. Dude must have been starving after last night, Prompto thought to himself, smirking.

While Ignis chopped some choice vegetables, the radio’s song changed. A familiar ‘80s synth-riff blared, and with it Ignis’ hum began to bloom into something more. Prompto felt his breath hitch in his throat and the hair on his arms stand on end while he listened. Wait. Was… was he…?

“I set my sights on you,” Ignis sang, after the first verse had blended with the sizzling roar of the frying pan. “And no one else will do.”

Prompto’s eyes widened.

Ignis? Singing? In their kitchen?

This rare event needed to be recorded. But dammit, of course he didn’t have his phone on him. And then, as if the singing hadn’t been enough of a rarity on its own, there came the hip shimmy not long after to accompany it.

“Open up your lovin’ arms, watch out, here I come.” Ignis tossed the vegetables he’d just chopped into the frying pan, a contented hiss spitting upon impact.

Prompto grinned.

“You spin me right ‘round baby, right ‘round,” Ignis continued. “Like a record baby, right ‘round, ‘round ‘round.”

Holy crap, Prompto hissed internally. His hands balled into fists as his grin grew wider. Ignis is singing along to Dead or Alive. While cooking.

Ignis turned on his heels, spinning in a little half circle before he reached for an egg. His foot tapped on the floor, the sharp clink of the egg cracking against a bowl syncing to the beat of the music.

And with that, Prompto couldn’t take it anymore. Amusement brimmed through him, drawing him over to his partner like a magnetic pull. He briskly left his temporary hiding spot and skidded into the kitchen, sliding on his socks as he belted out the next lines of the song.

“I got to be your friend now, baby; and I would like to move in just a little bit closer,” Prompto crooned, doing a twirl of his own; a performer in front of his one-man audience on the stage that was the kitchen floor.

Ignis, startled, practically jumped ten feet in the air, spatula in hand as he held it in front of himself in a defensive stance. “P-Prompto,” he stuttered, eyes wide in surprise. He glanced at the radio, as if he were debating turning it off and erasing the last one minute and thirty seconds from this timeline, but before he had a chance to, Prompto approached him.

“All I know is that to me---” Prompto sang, reaching his hands out toward Ignis.

“Prompto---”

“---you look like you’re having fun---” Prompto stepped close, tilting up on his tiptoes so their noses nearly touched.

“What are you---”

“Open up your loving arms, watch out, here I come!”

Prompto snatched the spatula away from Ignis, dropping it on the counter with a discarded clunk. Taking both of the man’s hands hostage, he pulled Ignis closer to himself and gave him a quick kiss. “You spin me right ‘round, baby, right ‘round,” he sang, the grin returning to his face.

Ignis laughed, a gentle titter that made Prompto’s heart sing a song of its own. “Prompto, just what are you doing?” he asked, his pitch higher than normal.

“Like a record baby, right ‘round, ‘round ‘round,” Prompto continued, lifting their arms as he twirled Ignis around in a circle. He winked as he placed a hand on Ignis’ shoulder.

Ignis was still laughing, and after the initial shock of being caught in the act wore off, suddenly, they were dancing. Each drag of their feet and tap of their heels to the rhythm sent their bodies gliding about the kitchen floor, moving as one. Prompto was in the lead to start, keeping up his singing, but after another line or two Ignis took over the dancing lead while Prompto gave a little “ooooh” in delight.

Then, while Ignis dipped Prompto low to the ground, they became a duet.

“I want your looooooooooooove,” they belted out in unison. Ignis kept the note going, and while Prompto tried to keep it up, he failed, voice breaking with a burst of laughter.

Ignis swooped Prompto upright again, another full turn to follow before he snatched him up in his arms, lifting him clear off the floor. Right ‘round, round round. “I want your looooooooove,” Ignis continued. Prompto was long gone at this point, unable to continue singing. He laughed so hard his stomach hurt, body shaking as he clung to Ignis, pure joy radiating from him.

A few more right ‘rounds later and the song came to an end at last. Prompto, still elevated off the floor, found himself face to face with his taller partner, his arms wrapped around his neck. He tried to catch his breath, but the sight of Ignis’ smiling visage in front of him halted the process.

“Good morning, Prompto,” Ignis greeted cheerfully, his eyes sparkling. In the background, the radio mumbled with the utterings of a radio announcer, an intermission between songs.

“Hey,” Prompto replied. He couldn’t help but laugh again, smiling sweetly as he gave Ignis a kiss. His heart swelled in his chest, amplified with the usual warm fuzzy feelings Ignis often gave him. “Oh man, you and I, I think we’ve got a future in show business, dude.”

“Oh? And what would the name of our double act be?” Ignis inquired lightly.

“Burning Skillet.”

“Oddly specific, don’t you think?”

“Not really, I think it’s plenty appropriate. By the way, I think your skillet is burning.”

And it was. Ignis’ eyes widened, setting Prompto down on his feet immediately so he could tend to the stove. “Drat,” he muttered. “I knew there was a reason why I didn’t listen to the radio much.”

Prompto rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “My bad. Sorry, babe. Don’t worry though, I’ve got this.” He headed for the counter so he could start chopping up more vegetables.

While he worked at replacing the vegetable sacrifice, the commercials came to a halt as yet another ‘80s synth beat blared from the speakers. Feet began to tap on the linoleum from both parties. Heads bobbed, fingers snapped.

“Sweet dreams are made of this,” Ignis gently sang, standing over the garbage can as he scraped burnt food off the skillet’s surface. The spatula scraped back and forth, back and forth, in time with the music.

Prompto’s lips quirked upward, glancing over his shoulder at his partner. Chop, chop, chop, went the knife, the rhythm flowing naturally, much like the sliced tomato’s juices under his knife. “Who am I to disagree?”

[shortscribble]

Imagine Seth phasing in front of his imprint for the first time.

[This is more like a continuation from Seth meeting his imprint story]

Surprisingly things with Seth were going great after the initial disaster which shall not be mentioned ever again. Emily was in her honeymoon phase, the wedding was a success. Sure you set a mini fire, accidentally of course but nobody was harmed… apart from Jacob’s hair when he was putting out the fire. He had been furious, just as ungrateful as ever despite you giving him a helpful makeover. A little hair cut had fixed it easily and yet every time you were in the same room as him now, he would cringe and back away from you like you were the plague. Pretty sure you weren’t that bad, Seth was still here and that too by his own free will! Astonishing. 

You had spent two weeks at Clearwater’s home. Two weeks with Seth by your side every day. Two weeks of Leah giving you death glares and brandishing a sharp knife on the pretence of cutting vegetables whenever Seth wasn’t looking. Scary. You would take Jacob over her any time. 

Once you were back to living at Emily’s place, it had felt absolutely lonely without Seth and it even made you wonder if things would change now that he didn’t have you hovering near him 24/7. However, it had the opposite effect. Seth was with you whenever possible, it could be as simple as watching a movie in the living room to pretty romantic dates around the neighbourhood. 

Today the weather had taken a turn for the worst, Sam and Emily were going to be late and the rest of the guys were all coming over for lunch. This was something that happened very often so she had prepared food well in advance, all you had to do was place it on the table. Everyone loved Emily’s cooking and she was always happy to feed any of Sam’s friends that turned up at her doorstep. Even Seth was a big foodie. For that reason you took a big brave step towards the kitchen and made an apple pie successfully without burning the whole house down. 

You had just placed it on the counter when Paul walked in. “I wasn’t aware it was a pie day today.” And as if he couldn’t help himself his big grubby hands moved towards the pie. 

“It’s not! This isn’t for you” You shifted the plate farther away from his reach.

“For Seth then? Well he isn’t here, it’s mine now” He made a move for it and this time you smacked his hand to warn him off. 

“There is enough food on the table, Paul. Leave this pie alone” You glared at him ready to defend the pie till your last breath.

“You don’t want to get in between this Y/N, trust me” He was breathing hard now, his hand was shaking slightly.

“I’m not letting you touch this, get over it” It was a silent stand off between Paul and you with the pie in between. Nobody was backing down. 

“Fine, just one slice then” His hand was fast almost a blur but you snatched the plate back at the right time. 

“Like I haven’t heard that one before, I know you guys enough by now” You muttered as you placed the pie on the opposite counter unaware of Paul trembling behind you. 

Just then you heard a whoosh with the door banging open loudly and suddenly Seth was there pushing Paul aside. It was a weird struggle with both of them shaking and trembling so much. 

“Get a hold over yourself Paul” Seth shouted, his voice was almost a growl. He looked at your frozen body before dragging Paul through the door taking him outside. 

All this over a freaking pie. Just your luck. You ran outside worried about what was happening. You were worried for Seth actually, Paul was bigger than him and definitely a whole lot meaner. In the scuffle Seth elbowed Paul in the face and it was like the last straw before all hell broke loose. Both of them literally vibrated before there was something different in their place. Something that you couldn’t quite believe. Wolves. You could still see their ripped clothes scattered around. There was lots of growling and snapping, their movements too fast and rough. 

Just then Jared and Quil arrived running towards the wolves before becoming wolves themselves. Oh my god. Were you in the twilight zone? The newcomers pushed the others towards the forest cover and then they were gone. It was silent except for the rain like you just hadn’t witnessed people turning into wolves. 

You went back inside closing the door and grabbed the first thing you could see, a pan. No way were you facing anyone without a weapon. You were shaking as badly as Paul when there was a knock on the door. 

“Go away” The doorknob was turned a few times before there was a click and with that click you readied your pan rushing to whoever or whatever was opening the door. There a satisfying sound as your weapon found your target before the cursing started.

“damn it why do I have to deal with this” Jacob was annoyed rather than hurt, you had thrown all your force in that hit and yet he wasn’t affected. 

“Stay back! I said stay back” You flailed the pan around not doubting one bit he was one of the wolf guys too. Just look at him. 

“Y/N relax, nobody is going to hurt you. Give me the pan” He dodged your pan this time and grabbed it from you. 

“Seth will explain everything, just calm down” Jacob was crazy if he thinks you are going to stick around for any of that. “As if there is a sane explanation for magically becoming a wolf!” You shouted half crazed at his calm demeanour. 

“There is. He will be back any time now.” You pushed him aside, or at least tried to but he stood there blocking your exit. Just then you heard other voices, one of those you knew well. Seth. 

“Jake? Y/N? What’s going on here?” Seth pushed Jacob aside to stand beside you before you backed away from him. 

“I stopped her from leaving and my job here is done.” He shook his head and walked towards the table where all the food was kept. Paul walked right past you and so did Jared and Quil like you were invisible. 

“Y/N please listen-” Seth looked absolutely crushed when you moved away from him again. Since the doorway was now clear, you walked out not caring about the rain. Seth was right behind you. “I was going to tell you about this, I swear. It’s not bad as it looks”

“You become a wolf with a tail and all, Seth and there is not even a full moon!” You remembered silver bullets and full moon when it came to what you knew about werewolves. 

“That’s a myth. I can change whenever I want” 

“Oh! That makes it soooo much better” You said sarcastically. He tried to take your hand but you moved it away. 

“Stop pulling away Y/N, that shit hurts” It did, it felt unnatural. From warm cuddles and passionate kisses to this was a harsh blow. But so was his secret. 

“You kept this from me, something so profound and bizarre. I trusted you with everything but you couldn’t do the same” You stopped and looked away from him. You hadn’t made yourself this vulnerable ever. 

“I planned on telling you all of this. Ease you into this and not shock you but Paul” He sighed. “Just come back inside please, I will tell you everything from the start.” He extended his hand towards you and unlike before you couldn’t ignore it, you placed your hand in his and he seemed to relax from his tensed up state. 

NEXT DAY

Seth had stayed with you all day yesterday, telling you about the Quileute legends and how they were actually true. Things that set it in motion and everything that followed. Who all were just like him and even why everything seemed so intense when it came to your relationship. It was a lot to think over. He had stayed past midnight and only left when he was sure you weren’t going to run away after he left. 

It was still early in the morning when you were up and all dressed. You followed a trail through the forest that led towards one of the cliffs that bordered around the beach. Previously you had been here with Seth, happy to take in the breathtaking view and enjoy his warm presence. Today you were here alone with nothing but your thoughts. 

Emily had been devastated by your silent treatment, you would forgive her eventually. Paul had apologised for his behaviour and for eating the pie as well when you weren’t aware. Seth had left you with choices, to either take this further or not. It was all on you. 

Leaving his furry ass was not an option for you.  Wolf or not, he was still your Seth. The same guy who literally glowed when you had decided to stay here and not go back to the city after Emily’s wedding. The same guy who was thoughtful about everything when it came to you without expecting anything in return. 

Just then you heard a rustling sound before a wolf emerged from the forest. Since you weren’t scared out of your mind this time, you could see beyond the imposing size and scary teeth. The wind ruffled his sandy coat as he approached you slowly. 

On noticing your calm reaction, he walked in a circle brushing up against you lightly. You reached out towards him hesitantly running your fingers through his coat. He closed his eyes and made a slight humming noise. It was absolutely unreal, standing so close to something so magical and being able to touch it. Seth looked at you once and ran back in the forest before walking back out on two legs, without a t-shirt of course. 

“Emily said you left. I wasn’t sure what exactly left meant here. I panicked and followed you.. not creepily” He looked remorseful like he had done something wrong. 

“It’s fine. I wasn’t going anywhere. This seemed like a good place to think” You looked out towards the sea, it wasn’t raining yet but you could see the clouds approaching. 

“If you don’t want this.. don’t want me you only have to say it” His face was serious like he will suffer in pain readily if it meant you were happy. Just like that your decision was made. 

“Are you kidding? I have a personal wolf and a boyfriend all in one. No way am I giving that up” You smiled at him as he struggled to control his emotions. 

“On the note of not keeping any more secrets..” 

“What more? Oh my god do you become king kong next??” 

He laughed the carefree laugh you hadn’t heard since yesterday. “No Y/N. I’m in love with you.” 

“And I’m in love with you” you said all too happily before Seth had you in his arms placing a sweet kiss filled with love and yearning.