#i wish i could put all my thoughts into words

[noxiousgrace]

In my mind i keep assuming krs spent his entire life alone and surviving on his own

But that isn't the case, there's clearly proof that he was at some level helped by other people

He mentions it often

He was saved by social workers from his uncle when he was a kid

LSH saved his life

Grandma kim always looked after him like her own son while LSH was gone

CJS and LSH died for him

And so many other incidents

But why does it feel like he's still all alone?

I think his tendency to self isolate is why i keep assuming he survived on his own, when he very much didn't.

Everyone fails him or leaves him eventually, he ends up all alone so often that it's hard for me to think about krs as someone who's had support.

He's had the rug pulled out from underneath him so many times, that it no longer shocks him anymore (take chapter 1-3 for example, he was so chill about waking up in another world and stated he didn't have anyone who he'd miss

But that isn't true either, krs spent 10-ish years of his life as team leader and protected his coworkers time and time again, of course people would miss him. In elisehns illusion, Kim Min Ah and Bae Puh Rum came to check up on krs who hadn't returned to work.

While he mentions the physical support and companionship he's received from other people, his mental wounds run too deep.

He keeps a very clinical count of who he owes and who owes him in return, support is not a familial thing to him, it's transactional

The biggest reason grandma Kims death affected him so much was that he owed her A LOT, she was always quick to have his back and support him, Willing to treat his bruises over and over again despite her ability being limited.

Same with CJS and LSH, they supported him more than his own family ever did (parents dead and an abusive uncle), he was devastated that he couldn't spend the rest of his life with them in order to "pay back" all of their kindness so far.

He doesn't feel responsible for their deaths, but he feels responsible for every opportunity he lost to care about them in return. He mourns the future he could've had with them and the happiness krs could've brought to CJS and LSH.

"you can't smooth things over with the dead" is something he said in the novel, around the time choi han figures out who he is and krs is ready for CH to be extremely upset with him.

Krs!Cale feels responsible for everyone who shows kindness to him, a part of it is because whenever someone has cared about him, his heart always cared about them in return. And krs caring about people caused them to get hurt, that's why he feels the need to protect them so that they don't fall victim to krs' affection, and he actually has enough time with them for their "kindness" to be evened out.

This is why he's annoyed when his group grows larger and larger because of his subconscious altruism, there's so many opportunities for all of them to get hurt before he's done caring about them to the amount he thinks is acceptable, it worries his emotionally stunted heart.

Anywho, i think he feels alone to me because of how little he opens up to other people. He is a self isolating king and manages to be the most famous man ever.

I want him to open up that scarred heart of his and finally allow himself to be loved beyond transactions.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

20/12: Stockings and Sex Toys - modern!Aemond Targaryen Word Count: 1.2k~ | Warnings: use of sex toys, edging, slight degradation

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

A/N: did a twist on stockings cos why not

He can feel his jaw get tight with frustration just watching her. Prancing around in fucking stockings no less. The sheer, lacy ones he'd bought her for valentine's day.

Granted, she looked amazing in them. And she probably knew it. But it was getting all the wrong attention at the little Christmas party his mother had decided to throw, with half of fucking Westeros in attendance.

Well, little was the word she had described, anyway.

Every male eye was on her. And it was infuriating.

But no gaze on her made him more angry, than his brother, Aegon's. Simply because he was not afraid to make his opinions known. It was like every sordid thought made its way from his brain to his lips with no filter whatsoever.

Aemond sat at the bar, his fingers wrapped tightly around the tumbler of whiskey, the ice clinking softly as he swirled it. His gaze never strayed far from her. She was radiant, laughing at something Helaena had said, her voice like a melody over the low hum of the Christmas party, all violin music, laughter and the popping of expensive champagne. If he weren't so on edge, the space was so aglow, he'd be tempted to fall asleep. The lacy edge of the stockings he’d bought her peeked out when she shifted her weight, just enough to set every man in the room on edge.

The tight pencil skirt hugged her curves perfectly, paired with a soft, form-fitting top that dipped just low enough to be enticing. It was a simple outfit, but she made it look extraordinary, effortlessly captivating.

And everyone else noticed.

Aegon, perched lazily on the barstool beside him, was anything but subtle. He leaned back with a smirk, his eyes trailing her shamelessly.

“Gods,” Aegon said, his voice low but dripping with amusement. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s putting on a show.”

“Watch your mouth, Aegon.”

Aegon chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, I’m just saying. She knows what she’s doing. You see how she crosses her legs when she sits? Makes the lace peek out just enough—”

“If you value your teeth, you’ll shut up now.”

But Aegon wasn’t done. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying this. Watching every man in this room wish they could trade places with you. Even Uncle Daemon can’t keep his eyes off her.”

Aemond’s gaze flickered briefly toward Daemon, who was, indeed, glancing in her direction with a sly smirk, though pretending not to over the rim of his glass. That was the last straw.

Without a word, Aemond stood, his drink forgotten on the bar. He crossed the room in long strides, his eyes locked on her as she stood near the fireplace, chatting with none other than Cregan Stark, who was equally giving her eyes.

She looked up as he approached, her eyes sparkling with delight. “Hey, you—” she started, but Aemond didn’t let her finish.

He slipped a possessive arm around her waist, pulling her close. His lips brushed her ear as he murmured, “you’re coming with me.”

He didn't speak as he guided her up the grand staircase, one hand splayed on her lower back. She could feel the tension radiating off him, his eye dark with desire and anger alike. When they reached the guest room, she clasped her hands behind her back, feigning innocence as Aemond pushed the door shut.

“Sit.”

She plopped onto the bed, looking up at him with a playful, knowing smirk.

“You're upset,” she teased, crossing her legs, allowing the lace of her stockings to peek through again. She saw the flicker of his eye to her exposed skin. “Is it my outfit?”

“Don't play dumb.”

She leaned back on her palms, “or what?”

She saw the tight muscle in his jaw tick. He fumbled at the sleek black tie around his neck, yanking it off as if were personally strangling him, suddenly feeling his neck get hot. A few buttons followed, and then, with his expression still firm and hard on her, his attention directed to his sleeves, pulling them up his forearms and curling it onto itself, as if he were preparing to get his hands dirty.

Her eyes widened slightly, but her smirk remained, "don't look so mad, baby."

"Oh, I'm not mad."

"What then?" she asked lightly.

Aemond didn’t respond with words. Instead, he reached for the overnight bag he’d left in the corner of the room earlier. Her eyebrows arched in surprise as he unzipped it, pulling out a sleek, black vibrator.

Her teasing demeanour faltered for a moment, replaced by curiosity and a flicker of excitement. “You brought that with you?” 

“I knew I’d need it,” he said. He stepped toward her, the toy in hand, his movements deliberate.

Before she could respond, he knelt between her legs, his hands trailing up her thighs, pushing her skirt higher. She gasped as his fingers hooked into the delicate lace of her matching underwear, tugging them down just enough to give him access. His lips followed, kissing along the inside of her thigh, making her squirm.

“Aemond…” she breathed, but he silenced her with a look.

“Lay back,” he commanded, and she obeyed, her heart racing as she stretched out on the bed.

He flicked the toy on, the soft hum filling the room and annoyingly, automatically on the lowest setting. He brought it to her inner thigh first, teasing, making her squirm under his touch. Her smirk returned, though her breath hitched.

“Still feeling cocky?” he asked, his voice low as he moved the vibrator closer to her centre, clicking a setting up, hovering just above where she needed him most.

She bit her lip, her hands gripping the sheets. “Maybe a little,” she managed, though her voice wavered.

“Good,” he said, finally pressing the toy against her. She arched her back with a gasp, her teasing demeanor melting away as pleasure overtook her.

Aemond’s smirk deepened as he moved the vibrator in slow, deliberate circles, keeping her on the edge without giving her the release she so desperately craved. Every time her breathing quickened, every time her hips bucked against him, he pulled back just enough to keep her teetering on the brink.

“You’re cruel,” she gasped, her voice a mix of frustration and need. Her hands gripped the sheets tightly, her body writhing beneath his touch. “Aemond, please…”

He tilted his head, his eye dark and predatory. “Please what?” he asked, his tone mocking. He slid the toy lower, letting it graze her most sensitive spot before pulling it away again. “I thought you liked teasing. Or maybe not when it's the other way around?”

She let out a soft whimper, her back arching as she tried to chase the sensation.

He dragged the toy down her thigh before bringing it back up, the vibrations steady but maddeningly light. “I could let you come. But I’m enjoying this far too much. Look at you,” he murmured, his gaze raking over her body. “Squirming. Begging. All because of me.”

But even Aemond had his limits. Watching her like this, hearing her beg, feeling the way she trembled beneath his touch, it was driving him mad.

When her pleas grew more desperate, her body arching into him, he finally relented, tossing the toy aside. “You want me to fuck you?” he asked, his voice low, rough.

“Yes,” she breathed, her eyes locked on his. “Now. Fuck the party.”

He suppressed the urge to grin. Fuck the party, indeed.

Aemond didn’t need to be told twice. With a growl, he captured her lips in a searing kiss, his hands already working to free himself as he finally gave in, pressing against her hot and waiting centre, eager to take him.

She tugged at her stockings, the lace now slightly askew, but he caught her hands, pinning them above her head with one of his.

“Leave them on.”

General Taglist: @1lluminaticonfirmed @aemondsfavouritebastard @all-for-aemond @bellstwd @blackswxnn

@blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @cl-0-vr @eddieslut69

@emmaisafictionwhore @eponaartemisa @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @justbelljust

@minholy223 @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @nixiefics

@primonizzutto @qyburnsghost @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @sheshellsseashells

[chancloud8]

CHAPTER 1

series masterlist

Pairing: OT8 x reader

Word Count: 3,9k

Tags: Intro, bodyguard!ot8, idol!reader

Summery: Meeting your new bodyguards doesn't go as smoothly as everyone hoped..

‘I don’t need a group of bodyguards,’ you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time. 

Your manager Yoona doesn’t even look at you anymore and you fight the urge to stamp your feet like a little child to get her attention. You won’t stoop that low though, so instead you place your hands on your hips and glare at the woman who’s been by your side since you debuted about two years ago. 

‘We’re not having this discussion again, y/n,’ Yoona says, her eyes still fixed on her phone screen. ‘Your popularity is growing by the day, you’ve received multiple death threats in the last few months and in case you forgot, last week someone tried to break into your home.’ 

Your shoulders deflate and your hands fall down beside your body. You can’t really argue with that, but you’ve grown so accustomed to having Faris at your side as your one and only bodyguard, that the thought of eight men taking his place makes you shiver. Who the hell needed eight freaking bodyguards? You weren’t a princess for fuck’s sake. 

Yoona finally looks at you then. ‘It’s very important to us to keep you safe, darling. I know it will be an adjustment, but you’ll get used to it.’ 

‘But eight?’ you argue, trying once more. ‘Do I really need eight men following my every move?’ 

‘That’s why we’re placing some of them around you with other jobs as well, kind of like undercover bodyguards,’ Yoona smiles at you like that makes it any better. 

You slump down in the chair across from Yoona and frown at her. What could bodyguards possibly go undercover as in your team? Woman, sure, no problem, but a muscled man? They’d stand out immediately. 

‘What do you mean?’ you ask carefully, not sure if you even want to know. 

‘They all have multiple skill sets, but we decided on adding three of them as your dancers and one will probably step in as a personal assistant of sorts,’ Yoona explains, her eyes once more on her phone screen. 

‘Why?’ you blurt out. ‘I don’t even need new dancers? We’re not firing anyone are we?’ 

You were perfectly happy with your team as it was and it would kill you to let any of them go because Yoona decided you needed eight freaking men to watch you. 

Yoona sighed and put down her phone. ‘We’re not firing anyone, but Dohyun is still recovering from his injury and Ju-won has asked for a few months off to visit his family. As for why, it will allow them to be around you more casually.’ 

Damnit. That actually made sense. 

‘And you’re sure they can dance?’ you ask, already knowing the answer. Yoona would never suggest something like this if they couldn’t. 

‘Yes, y/n, they can dance. I think you’ll be impressed actually.’ 

That makes you curious. Yoona isn’t easily impressed, so if she thinks you’ll approve, they must be good. Maybe you should give them a chance, or just be such a brat they run away screaming. 

‘Fine,’ you sigh. ‘When will I meet them?’ 

Yoona looks at her watch and your eyes widen at the movement. She wouldn’t do this to you, would she? 

‘They’ll be here in an hour to meet you,’ Yoona says and you let out a relieved breath. ‘You better be back here by then or I will let one of them drag you here by your ear.’ 

‘Bossy much,’ you whisper, but you don’t really mean it. You luckily have a very good relationship with your manager and even though she drives you up a wall sometimes, you know she has your best interest at heart. 

Yoona rolls her eyes at you and waves her hand at the door. ‘Go be bratty somewhere else, I’ll see you in an hour.’ 

You bark out a laugh and jump up from the chair. ‘As you wish, my Queen,’ you say, doing a little courtesy. 

Your current bodyguard Faris is waiting for you in the hallway, a smile on his handsome face as he spots you. 

‘Good talk?’ he asks, following one step behind you. 

‘You knew about this, didn’t you?’ you ask, glaring at him over your shoulder. 

‘I’m the one who recommended them actually,’ Faris says and only his quick reflexes stop him from walking straight into your back as you stop walking immediately at his words. 

‘What?’ you turn around to frown at him. ‘Why would you do that to me?’ 

Faris raises his eyebrows and stares down at you with a knowing look, his arms crossing over his chest. 

‘Fine,’ you roll your eyes at him. ‘I know why, Yoona was so kind to remind me, but I still don’t get why it has to be eight.’ 

‘It might seem excessive to you Nabi,’ Faris says, addressing you with your stage name which he knows usually softens you. ‘But you don’t see all that we see and trust me when I say that once you’re on tour, you’ll be happy to have them by your side. It gets crazy out there.’ 

‘I know that, but undercover bodyguards?’ you make a face. ‘I’m not royalty.’ 

Faris chuckles and with a gentle push on your shoulder, he guides you further through the hallway and towards the studio you were working at before Yoona called you to her office. It was one of the things you really liked about your agency. Nearly everything you needed was in the same building. 

‘You may as well be and I trust Chan and his guys to keep you safe,’ Faris says as he holds a door open for you. 

‘So you really know them?’ you ask, sitting down at the desk you were working at before. Your laptop is still open on the editing program you work with and there are multiple notebooks, paper coffee cups and empty candy wrappers spread all around it. ‘Did you work with them before?’ 

‘I trained 3RACHA actually,’ Faris nods. ‘Chan and I had multiple gigs together after that and I’ve only heard good things about the others as well. I’m confident I’m leaving you in good hands.’ 

‘You shouldn’t be leaving me at all,’ you groan, throwing your head back against your chair. ‘But I understand and I hope that when I have a husband one day, he'll do the same for me.’ 

Faris just smiles at that and gets comfortable on the couch facing the door. He knows better than to get into this conversation with you again. Last time you ended up facetiming his wife in tears and he ended up having to calm down two crying women. 

‘Wait, did you just say sriracha?’ you sit up in your chair when your brain suddenly realizes what he had just said. ‘As in the hot sauce?’

‘No, I said 3RACHA, that’s what they called themselves back then,’ Faris replies, glancing at you. ‘I think they made music together in their free time, before they started their own company.’ 

Huh. Interesting. Why on earth would they go from making music together to becoming bodyguards? 

‘So all eight of them made music together?’ you ask curiously. 

‘No, just Chan, Jisung and Changbin. I think they mostly rapped, but if you’re interested in knowing more, you can always ask. It could break the ice when you meet them,’ Faris suggests, winking at you. 

‘I’ll pass, I don’t want them to think I’m happy about this arrangement,’ you murmur, turning your chair so your back is to Faris. ‘Will you tell me when it’s time to go?’ 

‘Don’t I always?’ he chuckles. 

You flip him off without looking and put on your headphones. Time to edit some more music. 

****

You’re so engrossed in your music, that it takes Faris multiple tries to get you to put down your headphones. He even goes as far as opening the blinds to let the light in, making you whimper and flinch by the intrusion of it. 

‘Alright, alright,’ you yell, your eyes scrunched close. ‘I beg for mercy, I’ll come with you.’ 

Faris laughs and closes the blinds, once again developing the room in darkness, just how you like it. He has scolded you many times before about how bad it is for your eyes to squint at your screen in a dark room, but you rarely listen to him about it. 

‘If you think about telling my new watch dogs this trick of yours, I’ll haunt you,’ you warn Faris when the two of you walk towards Yoona’s office. 

Faris makes a movement with his hands as if he’s zipping his lips closed and you nod happily at him, trusting him to keep his word. 

‘How late are we?’ you ask, having forgotten your phone in the studio when Faris basically dragged you out by your arm. 

‘About five minutes too early,’ he smiles proudly. 

Of fucking course. He’s been working with you for two years so he knows all your annoying traits by now, including having a habit of being late because you simply forget the time when you’re working. 

‘What will I do without you,’ you pout at him, ignoring the nervous butterflies in your stomach as you near Yoona’s office. 

‘You’ll be just fine, Nabi,’ Faris says and you’re not sure if he means it as a reply to what you just said or as a reassurance before meeting your new team of bodyguards. 

Taking a deep breath, you turn towards Faris. ‘How do I look?’ 

‘I thought you didn’t care?’ he grins, but he reaches out to flatten a few wild strands of your hair. 

You blow him a kiss, put on a straight face and turn around to knock on the door before pushing it open. The first thing you’re greeted with is the silhouette of 4 men standing with their back to you. Each of them have broad muscular shoulders that are clearly visible under the black suit jacket they’re wearing, the fabric straining like they’re wearing a size too small. 

The man on the right turns around when you enter and you nearly gasp at his beauty. His hair is styled to show a little v of his forehead and the black strands nearly reach his eyes. Jesus. He could be a model if he wanted too. He raises his eyebrows at you when you just stare at him for a moment, before he nudges the man next to him. 

‘Are you fucking kidding me,’ you mutter under your breathe when the other man turns around and piercing eyes meet yours. 

Of course he’s beautiful as well. What the hell was Yoona thinking? 

‘Ah, Y/N, there you are,’ Yoona says when she notices you. ‘On time, even.’ 

You roll your eyes and stroll forward to her desk, ignoring the four men as you make your way around them. In that little moment you forget there’s supposed to be more of them and when you turn to stand next to Yoona and see the chairs in front of her desk filled with four more gorgeous men, you nearly stumble. 

Yoona grins at you and you narrow your eyes at the woman. 

‘You think this is funny, don’t you?’ you grumble at her. ‘Where did you even find them? heaven?’ 

One of the men snorts before trying to cover it up with a cough. 

‘Don’t mind her gentleman, she’s in a mood today,’ Yoona smiles. 

‘I wonder why,’ you mutter, sending a fake smile in the direction of the bodyguards. 

‘That’s alright, it must be a lot to take in,’ one of them says with such a deep voice that your eyes widen. 

It must look comical, cause the same man that snorted earlier, lets out a giggle. ‘Don’t worry, Miss, it’s how everyone reacts to first hearing Felix’s voice,’ 

You want to focus on him calling you Miss, but the urge to see which face belongs to the deep voice is stronger.

‘Who’s Felix?’ you ask, your eyes searching the men in front of you. 

‘I am,’ the only blonde man of the group says, lifting his hand to show you where he is. He’s absolutely stunning with freckles sprinkled over his nose and cheeks. 

‘Holy shit, is that your real voice?’ you ask without thinking, slapping your hand in front of your mouth as soon as the words come out. 

He laughs and a few of the other men chuckle as well. 

‘It is, sometimes it gets even deeper,’ he says. 

‘Yeah, Lix actually has like three different voices,’ the man who called you Miss grins. 

It’s getting annoying not to know his name, but you don’t want to ask and seem interested. Luckily one of the men at the back seems to read your mind somehow. 

‘Why don’t we all introduce ourselves, my name is Bang Chan, but you can call me Chan. I’m the leader and head of your security team as of now. So if you experience any problems with our service in any way, I’m the one you can come to.’ 

‘Noted,’ you mumble, ignoring Yoona’s glare at your rudeness. 

So that’s Chan. Faris forgot to mention how beautiful his trainee was and you were so going to punch his arm for that later. 

‘I’m Lee Minho,’ the one with the piercing stare says. ‘I’ll be joining your dance team.’ 

Fuck. Of course he is. 

‘So will I,’ Felix smiles. ‘Lee Felix.’

‘And me, Hwang Hyunjin,’ the man closest to you winks. 

Great. They were absolutely going to kill you. In more ways than one. 

Biting your lip you wait for the last four to introduce themselves and pray to all the gods that Miss guy is going to be your assistant. He already feels like the most easy going out of all eight and if you need to work with one of them closely, you’d rather it be him than anyone else. 

‘Kim Seungmin, I’ll be one of your bodyguards’ the one who noticed you first says, his eyes flicking up and down your body as if he’s calculating how much of a flight risk you are. 

Oh just you wait and see buddy. 

‘I’m Yang Jeongin, but you can call me Innie or Ayen,’ the very cute man in front of Seungmin smiles and you nearly smile back at him. 

Finally the man you’ve been waiting for speaks up. ‘I’m Han Jisung, your new assistant.’ 

You cheer in your head, keeping a straight face as you look at the last man. He’s definitely the most buff of them all, his biceps really testing the fabric of his suit jacket. 

‘And I’m Seo Changbin, also part of your daily bodyguard squad.’ 

‘You’re all way too beautiful to be bodyguards,’ you say, crossing your arms with a frown while tapping your foot on the ground. 

Yoona makes a noise beside you and you don’t dare to look at her. She’ll definitely lecture you later, but this is all on her anyways. 

‘Worried your fans will fawn over us?’ Jisung jokes, winking at you. 

Your lips tip up in a tiny smile, but you quickly straighten your face. It was going to be hard to be a brat to them, but you were nothing if you weren’t stubborn. You’re not going to just warm up to them because they were hot and funny. Nope. Not going to happen. 

‘More like you’d be too busy worrying about your good looks to protect me,’ you say, raising your eyebrows at them. 

‘Aren’t you a ray of sunshine,’ Minho grumbles, placing his hand on Jisung’s shoulder as if to comfort him. ‘You won’t have to worry about that, looking this good doesn’t cost us much.’

You open your mouth to reply, but Yoona gets up and goes to stand next to you. 

‘That’s enough Y/N,’ she hisses before smiling her million dollar smile to the men. ‘As you can see Y/N hasn’t really warmed up to the idea of having this many eyes on her all the time.’ 

‘Don’t you have that all the time though,’ Seungmin says directly to you. 

You glare at him. ‘That’s not the same. 

He just shrugs. ‘We don’t want anything from you like your fans or stalkers. We’re not here to be your friends, we’re just here to keep you safe. That’s all that should matter.’ 

His words hit you harder than they should and you can’t help but flinch. The idol life isn't great for maintaining friendships and since you weren’t in a group, the only people you really had around you to talk to were your bodyguard Faris, Yoona and your dancers. You didn’t have a best friend, or even really friends in general, not since high school ended. 

‘Min!’ Chan calls out, glaring at the man. 

You square your shoulders and tilt your head, putting another fake smile on your face. ‘It’s fine, he’s right isn’t he.’ 

‘No, he’s not,’ Chan shakes his head. ‘Listen-’ 

‘It’s fine,’ you repeat, interrupting him. ‘How about I’ll show Jisung his office and we can go over the schedule for next week?’ 

Chan frowns down at you, sharing a look with Jisung and Yoona, but then he nods. You give him a nod back in thanks and without looking at any of the other guys you make a beeline for the door, hoping Jisung will follow you. 

‘Well, that went great,’ you hear someone say before you step outside. 

Faris frowns when he sees the look on your face, but he doesn’t say anything and falls into step behind you like he always does. It’s one of the things you love about him, he always knows when to not ask questions. You can hear him and Jisung quietly talking behind you, but you don’t mind, they know each other after all. 

‘Well, here we are,’ you say, opening the door of the small office area next to the studio you usually work at. ‘You can arrange everything how you like and if you need anything you can ask Yoona.’ 

‘I wasn’t expecting an office,’ Jisung smiles at you, stepping inside the room to take a look. 

It’s not much. Just a desk with a comfortable chair and a computer, a two person couch and in the corner there’s a bookcase that so far only houses a cactus, your first three albums and a box with documents your last assistant left behind. 

‘Of course you get an office, can’t have you shacking up with me in the studio,’ you say, trying to joke with him. 

‘Hey, about what Seungmin said,’ Jisung starts, sitting down in his desk chair and twirling around. ‘He’s just very serious about his job, he didn’t really mean the part about us not being your friends.’ 

‘It’s fine,’ you shrug. ‘You’re not really meant to be my friends anyways, you’re hired to protect me.’ 

‘Yeah, you don’t look too happy about that. Why is that?’ Jisung asks and he sounds genuinely curious. ‘I mean, sure we’re a whole lot, but isn’t it nice to know you’ll be safe?’ 

‘Safe? Yes. Watched by eight, I repeat, eight men? No thank you, I don’t need that.’ 

Jisung tilts his head and purses his lips in thought, like he’s actually trying to see this from your side. ‘I get it, I do, I’ve lived with most of them for the last few years and like I said, we can be a lot.’ 

‘But?’ you ask, falling down on the couch in front of Jisung’s new desk. ‘I feel there’s a but there.’ 

‘You really have no idea, do you?’ Jisung leans his chin on his palm as he looks at you. ‘We’ve seen the threats Y/N, we’ve seen the video’s of handsy fans, we’ve seen the footage of that dude trying to break into your house. It’s a miracle really that nothing has happened to you so far with only Faris by your side.’ 

‘He’s right, Nabi,’ Faris says from his spot by the door. 

‘Okay, maybe more than one bodyguard would be better,’ you say slowly. ‘But eight? I still think it’s a bit much, especially the undercover bit.’ 

Jisung shrugs and leans back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head. ‘Maybe so, but at least you’ll know you will be safe.’ 

‘I guess,’ you mumble. 

‘Wanna go over the schedule for next week with me?’ Jisung asks. ‘Get your mind off all this for a bit?’ 

You jump up from the couch immediately and walk around the desk to stand next to him while he starts up the computer. 

****

About half an hour later you’re fairly confident Jisung will make a good assistant. He’s written down your interviews and gigs for the coming month and made a list of all the things he wanted to take care of before that. It was cute how he wanted to do it right. 

‘Knock, knock,’ a voice called out from the door and when you looked up you saw Chan and Changbin hugging Faris. 

‘How’s it going here?’ Chan smiles at you as he walks inside, his hands in his pocket. He probably tried to come off less intimidating like that, but it didn’t really work. 

‘Fine,’ you say, looking at the computer screen again. 

If you kept your eyes on him you’d probably drool all over your favorite studio outfit. That man was way too fine. 

‘It’s going great, Channie,’ Jisung says. ‘We’ve been getting along perfectly without the ice kings here.’ 

‘Don’t let them hear you call them that,’ Chan chuckles, moving to sit on the couch. ‘I hope we’ll be able to make this work, Y/N. I take great pride in my work and I’ll do anything I can to make you feel comfortable around us.’ 

Ugh. Why did he have to be so kind too? 

‘Thank you,’ you mutter, your eyes still on the screen. 

‘We’ll promise not to impose your privacy too much when we move in, but–’ 

Your head snaps up to look at him then and from the corner of your eyes you notice Jisung covering his face with his hands. 

‘What did you just say?’ you ask, standing up. ‘Please tell me I didn’t just hear you say the words moving in?’ 

‘Uhm,’ Chan tilts his head in confusion. ‘I thought you knew?’ 

‘Knew. What?’ you growl, your fingers balling up in fists. 

‘Oh boy,’ Jisung whispers and you turn to glare at him. 

‘You knew about this?’ 

‘Uhm, we all did? And we figured so would you,’ he shrugs, looking at you with big innocent eyes. 

You close your eyes, not at all immune to those brown doe eyes. If you keep looking at him you will stop being angry and you can’t do that. Not now. 

‘If somebody doesn’t tell me very soon what exactly this thing I’m supposed to know is, I will scream,’ you clench your jaw and take a shaky breath. 

This can’t be happening. They are not moving into your house with you. Yoona won’t do that to you, not after your talk this morning. Right? You close your eyes in frustration, already knowing the answer to your own question. She will. 

‘Such a drama queen,’ a new voice speaks up from the door and when you turn your head, already seeing red, you see Minho smirking at you. 

Changbin and Faris look concerned and when you look back at Chan, he actually looks like he’s pitying you. Fuck. 

‘Just say it already.’

‘Well, we’re supposed to move into your new house with you,’ Chan says, confirming it. 

Oh hell no. 

a/n: eeeeeeekkk I'm so excited for this series you have no idea!! I wasn't going to upload till tomorrow, but @staylovesmiley made me flip a coin and here I am at midnight, feeding you the first chapter.

Please let me know your thoughts <3

taglist: @jaeminie-cricket @jeonginsbaee @staylovesmiley @newbbystay @cashtonsbetch @mariahxrrera @kaleigh-2002 @silencionyx @smileykiddie08 @my-neurodivergent-world @yaorzu-blog @yoongiismylove2018 @staytinyluv @bookswillfindyouaway @queen-thiccness @notastraykid @ateez-atiny380 @estella-novella @furfoxsake22 @hyunjinhoexxx @insomnjen @hannahisnotblue @vivilovesuu @velvetmoonlght @skz8love @eastjonowhere @stellmeiv @bookishcaptain @flylis @deadpool15 @0325ale @thatgirlangelb @iknow-uknow-leeknow @nchhuhi @shycreationdreamland @readr1221 @beewilko

[nmakii]

must be love

— you find sae’s phone opened, and you decide to snoop.

or; sae gets exposed for being a fake idgafer. this is too sappy. 2.7k words, this is my longest fic in my whole life… what life feels like as a girl who loves too much core

tags: @narcjsistx

— for rhi. love ya, partner.

‘she seems really eager to please,

but she has quite the backbone.’

you huff out in frustration. “ah!! ugh…” you scowl. sae raises his eyebrow. “my groupmate never started on her share of the work… ugh, now i have to cram it..!” you explain your sudden outburst. sae scoffs. “then tell your teacher or something. it’s not like i can do anything about it, im not your teacher.” he, quite obviously, points out. “wh… ugh, i’m gonna… i just— needed to let out my anger.” you groan, face planting and screaming into your textbook. and he hums in response. although he didn’t show it on his face, your outburst was quite out of character for the person he had grown to know. it was… weird, to say the least. and it had caused him to make a mental note not to anger you.

‘her generosity knows no bounds.’

“sae, this is for you. merry christmas!” you hand him a wrapped box. “hm..? i don’t take christmas gifts.” he bluntly states. “i haven’t gotten any gifts since i was 10 years old.” you scoff to yourself. “maybe that’s why you’ve always got that stick in your ass.” you tease. “excuse me?” he glares daggers at you. “aaaanyway! open it!” you shove the box into his hands. he looks at the box, and then at you, and he decides to open it. “new cleats.” he acknowledges. yes, mhm. these were indeed cleats..! “i didn’t need these, i was going to buy them myself.” he states.

“i know, you could probably buy them yourself. but, i thought i’d save you the hassle, y’know?” how thoughtful of you. he eyes the cleats up and down; it’s an expensive brand, but it’s worth the price for the quality. “…thanks.” he says, at last. he didn’t expect a gift from you, he doesn’t have one prepared for you. he’ll make sure to buy you something you’ll love later. “oh! hold on, i wanted to give you some other things ♪~” you fish a keychain and envelope out of your bag and hand it to him.

“…cinnamoroll..?” he questions. “it’s cute right? i thought you’d like it.” what an odd way of thinking… never once has he mentioned anything about cinnamoroll. but then again, it is pretty cute. “…well, i won’t say i hate it. thank you.” he thanks you as he eyes the envelope. “ah, don’t read it in front of me..! i got a bit sappy, it’s pretty. embarrassing…” you awkwardly laugh. “ah, got it.”

later that day, he opened the envelope. there was a letter; it had cute doodles all over. and, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel your affection radiating off the letter. it was… really sweet.

‘what a beautiful human being she is.’

itoshi sae is what you like to call a shy lover, if you were to put it kindly.

you know for a fact that he loves you, he just isn’t good at verbally expressing it. words of affection are too sappy for him. he prefers to show it through the thoughtfulness of his gifts, and the longing touches of his hands, which seem to never leave your’s.

you know he loves you. but, you can’t help but wish for him to say it more often.

it wasn’t many nights lately that the two of you would have a date night. with sae’s rigorous training schedule and endless interviews, the only thing he wants to do at night is to fall asleep beside you.

however, today was the end of the season. meaning, sae would have much more free-time for you.

with sae’s last game for the year completed in 0-4, the first thing he had to do was call you. even though you weren’t far away at all, sitting in the VIP lounge with the relatives and girlfriends of sae’s teammates.

“s/o?” he calls your attention. “mhm? congratulations on your win, babe! i knew you’d win.” you congratulate him. “they could barely keep the ball when they had it. is it really an achievement for me to have won this match?” he says, almost sassily. “pssh— alright. i get it, mr. ‘tepid.’.” you tease.

“don’t call me that.” he huffs. “stay where you are. i’ll go to you.” he commands. you hum in acknowledgment, and he hangs up.

he doesn’t keep you waiting too long before showing up. “there you are…” he sighs in relief, kissing you as his hands automatically find themselves on your body— one tangled in your hair, and the other resting on the curve of your spine.

once he finds the will in himself to finally pull away, he’s breathless.

he looks like he wants to say something, but he holds himself back, his fingers flowing through your hair. “…get ready for our date later tonight, yeah? formal wear.”

you nod, and his lips curl upward. “i’ll see you later.”

you decided to go all out, pull all the brakes. and when sae picks you up in his car, he can’t help thinking that you look like a dream. ‘are you sure you aren’t a model?’ he muses to himself. his heart twists, and the fat of his cheeks redden with affection. your hair flows like silk, and that glimmer in your eyes was once a star, handpicked from the skies, he’s sure of it.

everything about you encourages him to keep staring, but he manages to get ahold of himself. “…you…look beautiful.” is the only thing he can get himself to say. but, beautiful doesn’t seem to encapsulate it, not at all. it’s not even close. beautiful is only a fraction of what he thinks. “heh, you think so?” you ask. “yeah; beautiful.” he assures. “let’s go.” he says, barely turning his attention away from you as he turns to the road.

the drive to the restaurant is quiet, but sae’s mind is screaming at him. his eyes can’t stop moving back to take sneaky glances of you. he drinks up your beauty like a serpent, and he still hasn’t had his fill.

“…we’re here.” he pulls the shift into its’ brake. he gets out, and hands his keys to the valet boy— his words are inaudible through the car door, but he quickly finishes his conversation and moves to open your car door.

you take your first step out, and his hand immediately moves to help you out. god, you might be even prettier under the gleam of moonlight, shining like the pearl of the planet.

his arm moves and snakes around your waist, guiding you into the restaurant under the flash of paparazzi cameras. he grimaces at the loud, pitchy voices of news interviewers, begging for a comment; anything for a headline quote.

the gentle touch of his fingers tighten, as he silently encourages you to walk faster, and lose the crowd. the two of you hurry up, and dash into the restaurant, where you’re greeted with a dim candlelight, mahogany walls, and the rhythmic trumpet of jazz.

“welcome, mr. itoshi.” the receptionist greets. “your table for two is right this way.” she quickly guides the two of you into a secluded part of the restaurant, just like he’s always done as to make sure neither of you are spotted and harassed in public.

lamps hang on the walls, creating a romantic atmosphere. and the curved dark-brown leather booth couch perfectly complements the dark oak roundtable.

the date isn’t too different from the others. the two of you chat about anything that comes to mind. but, it’s actually more like it’s just you chattering on, and sae listening as he admires that excited grin on your face.

on the outside looking in, it’s obvious how he has heart eyes when he stares at you. he’s in a trance as he listens to the rich honeying sweetness of your voice; his finger traces the lines on the roundtable, wishing that it’d be the crinkles of your smile he’s tracing when he blinks and opens his eyes again.

his trance is broken though, when his phone rings. damn it, he forgot to put his phone on do not disturb… “something wrong?” you ask sae, and he takes his phone out of his pocket. “not sure. there shouldn’t be a problem, i cancelled everything for tonight. ugh… just a second, amor…” he remorsefully takes your hand in his as a silent gesture of apology. he took too long to pick up the phone, it already went out…

he opened his call app, and saw that it was from his publicist, dabadie. he groaned before picking up.

“sae! you didn’t mention that you’d be going out on a date today, your paparazzi shot is already all over social medias..!” he worriedly stammers. “i didn’t? well, whatever… it’s just a date photo anyway.” sae shrugs, speaking quietly to ensure that you don’t hear. “right— but… you know the internet… they might criticize you, and say that she’s distracting you from soccer…”

sae is about to correct him— he’s about to say that you aren’t distracting him from his career, but he holds back once he remembers that you’re right beside him, eagerly waiting for his attention to be back on you.

“i… have to speak to you for a second, im already outside the restaurant… the paparazzi didn’t censor out the location well enough either… so, the agency’s security car will follow you two home…” he adds on. sae sighs. “i have to speak to you too. i’ll meet you outside.” he hangs up. he huffs in exasperation and shallowly drops his phone, making it clatter on the table; the screen is left open on his call record. “im sorry, amor… i have to quickly take care of something, i’ll be back soon, i promise.” he kisses your hand.

“hmph, don’t worry. it’s dabadie, right? he’s always worried about something…” you laugh. of course you’d be understanding about it. you always understood. “heh, that he is.” he sasses before leaving the table.

…and you can’t help but notice that his phone is still open.

his phone is practically yelling at you, “check out what’s on me, s/o! check it out right now!”, and you simply can’t resist the temptation to!

first, you simply scroll around at his call record; nothing too interesting, it’s filled with calls from dabadie, and you. as well as occasional calls from his mom. how tepid, as sae would put it. you exit the app, and find his home screen wallpaper to be a picture he took of you; you’re looking out into the distance, the large castle of sleeping beauty in the background.

you smile to yourself at that cute photo, and move to his photos; it’s filled with photos of you, and almost none of him— not unless you were beside him. you scroll down to check out his older photos; they’re childhood pictures, only a few of them are with rin included.

…

…anyways, ‘what is in sae itoshi’s notes app?’, you ponder. you open his notes app.

‘things i want to eat: 1. omelette, 2. paella, 3. pesto pasta’

‘onitsuka tiger mexico - kill bill/grey, new balance 2002r - grey, asics gel NYC - oyster grey’

‘laundry’

‘i love you’

you laugh at the randomness of his notes, quickly scrolling through them. it’s true when they say that a boy’s notes is truly random.

but that last note catches your eye. it’s a pretty odd note that just says ‘i love you’ with no additional text. and, it makes you wonder.

sae’s an organized person, more or less. so, his notes must be filed too. and, you’re correct. there are three files; ‘lists’, ‘important documents’, and a file with your initial as its’ name.

the other two don’t seem as interesting, nor seem as mysterious. so, you click on the mysterious file.

and, the file is filled with everything about you; he’s written down your birthday (including the time…), your family members’ names, foods you like to eat when you aren’t feeling well, shows that you like to watch… everything.

and, there’s a note that catches your eye. it’s a cut-off sentence, since it was too long. you decide to feed your curiosity and click on the note.

‘she talks to everyone, even the people she doesn’t like.

it takes a lot to piss her off.

she’s always kind to me, after all.

she seems really eager to please, but she has quite the backbone.

she works really hard, but i don’t think many see it.

her generosity knows no bounds, and she always knows what kind of joke to make.

i didn’t think it was possible for a soul to be so beautiful.

nor, that someone like i would meet a soul like her’s.

but, im grateful to the stars above that i met her.

someone as kind as her deserves to receive all the love she gives.

i don’t think she knows how loved she really is though.

what a beautiful human being she is.

there simply isn’t enough words to describe the way her dimples crinkle when she’s happy.

the day she was conceived, the gods must’ve tenderly sculpted her heart out of ivory and gold.

the way she enamors everyone in the room simply by walking inside, and the way her personality shines in her rushed, yet sweet handwriting.

one day, i hope she’ll finally be perpetually happy.

so, that she can always shine that enchanting smile of her’s.

she deserves all of it.’

was this a poem..? it didn’t seem like it, it didn’t rhyme, and the stanzas didn’t have equal amounts of lines… but, the way he worded it out almost made it seem like he was a poet.

you don’t… even know what to think at such a romantic confession. it’s certainly much more than sae has ever verbally said to you. but, the fact that he had written this with you in mind makes your heart pound like crazy.

you’ve always known that sae loves you, but seeing his private thoughts all written out for you to read was… overwhelming.

“going through my texts, amor? i’m not texting any other woman besides you.” sae nonchalantly jokes. shit— time went quicker than you’d thought. “ah, nn… just got a bit curious, babe…” you hum. “what were you looking at..?” he asks, and his eyes widen the moment he sees what you were reading. out of all the things on his phone, that was the last thing he wanted you reading.

he embarrassedly closes his phone. “so… what was all that writing about..? were you trying to be a poet?” you jokingly ask; you knew that sae wasn’t mad, per say… he was probably just embarrassed. “n..no… it was, ah…” he clears his throat. “it was just… something i typed out when i realized i had many observations about you that i needed to write down. i just got sidetracked while i was typing.” he explains.

you smile, your entire body feeling like you’re on fire. the love you feel for sae itoshi feels like too much to contain in your heart. “it was really sweet, sae…” you assure him. for some reason, you have the odd incentive to just… cry right now. you love him so much.

“i know. but, it’s also too sappy.” he huffs. “aw, don’t be so shy… i know you’re just a huge softie under that tough surface…” you tease, moving closer to cuddle up to his side. “im not soft. i just love you, okay?” he groans. “don’t make me say embarrassing things.”

your smile widens, making him look at you with that lovesick look in his eyes. “aww… well, i guess i know how much you love me now anyway, so that’s good enough..!” you mentally fist pump at this small victory.

the atmosphere suddenly feels light again as you start to chatter again, teasing him slightly before going back to what you were speaking about before he had left. and still, sae’s looking at you like you’re the world cup trophy, like you’re all he’s dreamed of.

and sae thinks…

‘…you’ll know how sappy i can get when it’s our wedding day.’

but he should save that for another 5 years, or so.

[moonstonejpg]

support

k. bakugo x reader

where bakugo has a crush on a girl in the support course

w.c: 1,707

tags: pure fluff, kiri and denki being the best wingmen in the world, oh also ua is a college not a high school bc i said so

bakugo is my comfort character i love him sm and want to protect him at all costs ♡

If he didn’t know any better, he would think the sudden pounding of his heart meant it was acting up again like it did occasionally after Edgeshot revived him, because Katsuki Bakugo didn’t have crushes. And despite it being a natural part of life, it freaks him out a lot more than he’d care to admit. Because Bakugo has always had the same plan, get into UA College and become a top ranked hero; nowhere in his plan did he account for the girl with a heart of gold in the support course.

“Katsuki!” You call, arms full of some unknown material as you jogged towards him. You had a bright smile on your face, and your eyes were lit up with excitement. He couldn’t help the fond smile spreading across his lips as he gazed down at where you skidded to a stop in front of him.

“I did it! Here—hold this please.” You shove the item in your arms towards him, hands animatedly waving towards the different places on as you explain. It took a few moments for Bakugo’s mind to catch up to what was happening in front of him, but once it did his gaze snapped up to meet your eyes in shock.

“—and so, basically, you put this on under your hero suit and it absorbs the shockwaves from your blasts, turning it back into itself to heat your muscles.”

He blinks, his thoughts spinning to the conversation from last week when you had caught him sitting on the rooftop of the college. Instead of leaving, you plopped down next to him, starting a conversation after a few hesitant moments.

“I know you love your quirk, and honestly I do too!” you giggle, a light blush dusting your cheeks. “But if there was something you could change—or well, something to help, what would it be?”

He cocks his head to the side, mulling over your question; he wants to give you a good answer, an honest answer. So, he dips into the vat of his insecurities, unearthing a small secret he’s never shared with anyone.

“I—when I use it too much my arms and shoulders start to ache, and even if I pause to conserve my energy it seems to just leak out and then…eventually both body parts end up going numb. It’s been happening more frequently now that we are training longer, and it—it sucks to be quite honest.”

You pull your knees up to your chest, eyes fixed on a distance point on the horizon. He glances sideways at you, noticing the indent between your eyebrows. Your tongue pokes out, and he realizes this is your thinking face. He’s amazed that he can see the wheels turning, and wonders what’s going on in your brain.

It’s silent for a few moments, before you jump up, an excited gleam in your eye. You start to leave, pausing to turn back to him, your face now serious. “I won’t tell anyone; your secret is safe with me.”

He nods once, and the seriousness evaporates as you smile at him, then disappear down the stairs.

“Was…is this okay?” You ask suddenly, the excitement in your eyes dimming slightly as he stared dumbly at you, not a single word leaving his lips since you handed over the gadget. “I—I just thought that—I can take it back!”

“No, I—"

“It’s okay! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep. I had just thought…well, either way it doesn’t matter.” You reach your hands out to take the thin fabric back, but he holds it above your head, forcing you to stop and look at him in surprise.

“I love it, you just—you surprised me is all.” He mumbles, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. “I wish I could do something to thank you, something other than just standing here looking like a fool.”

“I don’t need anything from you, really! It’s, well, it’s a gift.” You reply quietly, twisting your hands together then shoving them back behind your back. There’s a light pink stain on the apples of your cheeks, and Bakugo gets the alarming urge to kiss you. Instead, he fists the cloth in his hands and lowers his arms, cradling the material to his chest.

“Thank you.” He whispers, still in shock that someone would do something like this for him.

You nod once, a soft smile on your face as you turn and leave the hallway, his eyes not leaving your back until you’re just a speck at the end of the corridor.   

Hours later he’s still thinking of the exchange; feeling incredibly stupid for not asking for your number at the very least. He’s supposed to be helping Kirishima and Kaminari study for their exam in the library, but how could he possibly do that when all he wants to do is replay your smile over again on a never-ending loop.  

“Bakugo? Hey, Katsuki!”

Fingers are suddenly snapping in front of his face, effectively ripping him from his thoughts. “What?” He grumbles out, smacking Kirishima’s hand away from his face.

“What’s up with you lately, dude?” Kaminari asks, raising an eyebrow.

Bakugo doesn’t respond, distracted by the familiar girl at the far end of the rows of books.  

Kirishima throws his elbow into Kaminari’s side, rolling his eyes at the huff of indignation the blonde lets out. He tilts his chin up to the other end of the room, and that’s when they notice Bakugo’s eyes locked on to where you’re seated, book in hand.  

They watch, transfixed as a slow smile stretches across the blonde’s face, his chin nearly dropping in his upturned hand to watch you.

“Oh. Oh my god.” And suddenly everything makes sense to the pair. Kirishima and Denki lock eyes, secretive smiles plastered on both of their faces.

“She’s really pretty.” Kaminari muses, shutting his textbook and leaning back in his chair.

“Mm.” Katsuki grunts, only half paying attention.

“And way smarter than you.” Kirishima says, eyes locked on his friend.  

“Wait, what?” Bakugo asks, attention snapping back to his friends.

“So the day has finally come…our blasty boy has officially grown up.” Kirishima pretends to wipe non-existent tears, sniffing a little.

“What are you two idiots talking about?” Bakugo asks gruffly, flipping a page in his textbook.

“Oh nothing, just—"

“When’s the wedding?” Kaminari asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Again, what are you even talking about?”

“You have a crush!” Kaminari coos.

“I mean, I would like to crush your heads together.” Bakugo mumbles, but they can’t miss the way his cheeks turn pink. He avoids all eye contact, choosing instead to pretend to read the page in front of him. “She ah.” He clears his throat, “She made me this material to go under my hero suit, something about the shockwaves from my explosions being fed back into the material to…well, anyway, she brought it for me today. And I should have asked for her number, but…” He trails off, the unspoken words hanging in the air.  

I’m scared.

Kirishima puts a steady hand on Bakugo’s shoulder, knowing the fear his friend feels is more than warranted. Bakugo is silent for a few moments. And then, “I have all of these hard edges, and I don’t know how to be soft.”

“You don’t need to be soft; you need to be yourself.” Kaminari whispers, smiling at him. “And something tells me she probably feels the same way about you.”

Kirishima and Kaminari lock eyes again before standing and calling your name. Bakugo watches in abject horror as they approach you, his knee bouncing faster as they speak, the distance too great to listen to what exactly was being said. His eyes flit across the trio, panicking slightly.

He knew deep down that his friends just wanted him to be happy, but at this moment he wanted nothing more than to leap across the room and strangle them both. Bakugo briefly considers blowing the entire room up but decided against it at the thought of another bill being sent to his parents.

He watches as you put your book face down, eyes moving between his friends. They say something, then you frown before responding. The exchange feels like hours but is only a few minutes before you stand. You look over, locking eyes with Bakugo, then begin to make your way over to him.

He catches both Kaminari and Kirishima shooting him a thumbs up, before scuttling out of the library, leaving their books and backpacks behind where Bakugo sits. He scrambles out of his chair, choosing instead to lean a hip against the edge of the table as you approach.

“Hi.” He whispers, reaching a hand back to scratch his neck.

“Hi.” You reply, pressing your hands together before twisting them together again. He recognizes the movement from hours before, cataloguing the nervous habit in the file in his brain under your name. “They said you had something to tell me?”

“I—you make my chest feel weird.”

“Um, what?” You squeak out.

“No! No, I mean—god, I’m fucking this all up.” He heaves out a sigh, looking up at the ceiling before locking eyes with you. “I appreciate your gift, more than you know. And I like how smart you are, and that I can see the wheels turning in your head when you’re thinking really hard. I like how you aren’t afraid to talk to me, and I haven’t…I’ve never felt like this about another person before. You haven’t left my mind since the day I met you, and I-I like you, a lot.”

Your jaw drops slightly, eyes flickering back and forth across his face. He swallows, taking a step towards you before hesitantly reaching to brush a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“Can I take you on a date?” He asks quietly, swallowing nervously.

You blink before a smile splits your face, and you nod. He smiles back, and before you lose courage, you push up on the tips of your toes to press a soft kiss on his cheek, giggling when you pull away and see the now bright red color flooding his cheeks.

“I like you too, Blasty.”  

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: the final holiday fic! i always love doing a svech family moment and this was beyond fun to write 🥰 and with that, i’ll be quiet on the fic front since i’m a little wiped out lmao. thank you guys for always being so awesome and have a fabulous holiday!! 🤍

word count: 2.2k

tw: domestic fluff

summary: getting all five kids to work together on one project always makes for a memorable afternoon

Andrei drops the grocery bags on the counter, ruffling the recipe printouts with the little gust of air. “I think this is last of it,” he says, frowning as he digs through the bags.

You look up from the notepad you’re scribbling a list on and poke your pen into one of the handles to tug it down. “Oh, good, you got the regular honey Teddy Grahams. The last time we made these, I accidentally bought cinnamon and I thought Al was going to stab me,” you say dryly.

“We don’t want that,” Andrei laughs and kisses the top of your head. He starts unpacking the bags, lining all the ingredients up on the counter. You tick each item off your list as it appears, sighing in relief when everything is marked off.

“Okay, we’ve got all the ingredients for all the cookies,” you sigh, looking up at your husband. “Remind me again why I thought a baking day with all five kids was a good idea?”

Andrei grins and puts two cartons of eggs into the fridge. “Because you’re the best mom,” he replies. “And you want all the babies happy.”

“I’m not a baby!” Dimitri comes stomping into the kitchen. “I’m six!”

He’s wearing a miniature helmet and carrying a mini stick, whacking at the baseboards as he goes. You pin him with a glare, because he knows he’s only allowed to hit the foam pucks or balls with the stick and only in the basement. He looks a little sheepish and holds the stick behind his back.

Andrei leans down to pinch his cheek. “We know you are not a baby, Dimka,” he says, trying to hide his laugh.

“But you’re our baby, always,” you finish. “Evie’s still our baby, even though she’s twelve.”

“Evie’s too bossy to be a baby,” Dimitri grumbles, rushing at Andrei’s legs. Andrei jumps out of the way, laughing, and catches the boy around the waist to pretend fight him. Childish giggles fill the room as they go, knocking into the counters and chairs.

The commotion attracts the rest of your kids and they appear in the kitchen one by one. Alina and Kira appear together, your youngest daughter’s face covered in glitter for some inexplicable reason. You’re not in the mood to question it, but you do wince at the trail of glitter that she leaves in her wake. Alina immediately jumps into the chaos with Andrei and Dimitri, giggling as she distracts Andrei for Dimitri to get a few good whacks in at his legs.

“Mom,” Kira climbs up onto your lap, getting glitter everywhere. “Can I get my letter to Santa back? I wanna add something.”

You internally cringe. It’s a week before Christmas and you finally had the kids send off their letters to Santa a few days ago because he “needs time to make the presents!” and you need time to make sure you got the stuff that was most important off their lists.

A last minute change up could throw a wrench in your carefully plotted and executed plans.

“We sent off the letters, baby,” you remind her, brushing glitter from her eyebrows. “What did you want to add?”

“Oh,” she shrugs and hops off your lap, “I’ll just tell Canes and he’ll tell Santa.”

She disappears into the mess of husband and kids, which now includes Maks, who snuck in at some point when you were talking to Kira.

You try and muffle a groan with your hand. If Kira tells her latest gift wish to Canes - the Elf on a Shelf named for both your husband’s hockey team and candy canes, you’re actually pretty impressed with Evie and Alina for coming up with that one - you’re screwed since the hunk of plastic and stuffing obviously can’t speak.

Somehow, you’re going to have to figure out what’s going on in your middle kid’s brain. You’ll get Andrei and Evie on the case too.

Speaking of, your oldest wanders into the kitchen. She’s tying an apron around her waist, looking at you seriously. “Mom,” she plants her hands on the kitchen table and leans in, “we need to get baking! If we’re going to make cookie boxes for everyone, we’re already behind.”

Your little taskmaster.

You smile at her and tuck a strand of dark blonde hair back into her braid. “Bunny, Dad just got home from the grocery store. We’re going to get started any minute.”

“They don’t look like they’re ready to start,” Evie side-eyes her dad and siblings, frowning.

“They’ll fall in line,” you promise, standing up and tugging at her braid. “Let’s get everything set up in stations, okay? That’ll help.”

Evie doesn’t look like she quite believes you, but she attaches herself to your side and sorts the ingredients by recipe, using all the counter space and the island. When she and Alina had first decided they wanted to do cookies boxes for all of your friends and family, you’d been hesitant to add another heavy lift to your holiday to-do list. Especially when each kid - and Andrei - had insisted on picking their favorite cookie for the box, making it a little more complicated to coordinate at least six different recipes.

Evie had requested gingerbread, the soft kind not the hard kind because the hard kind is gross.

Alina was all in on the most tedious of “cookies” to put together - puff pastry with chocolate and a Teddy Graham made to look like the little bear shaped cookie was sleeping. Your most chaotic child with the most involved project.

You’d had to talk Kira out of the peanut butter cookies she insisted on - reminding her of the peanut allergies that some of your friends’ kids had. She’d compromised on sugar cookies rolled and shaped to look like candy canes.

The boys were easier. Maks insisted on chocolate chip cookies with “lots and lots of chcocolate” and Dimitri wanted the almond snowball cookies you’d made a few times before because he liked how much the powedered sugar puffed out when you accidentally exhaled when eating them.

Andrei had grinned at you as the kids listed out their cookie requests and you’d pinned him with a glare, murmuring, “if you pick something difficult, I’ll never let you in my pants again, I swear to god.”

He’d taken pity on you and picked a relatively simple lemon ginger cookie that you could make in your sleep.

Now, Evie commandeers the kitchen, pointing each of her siblings to a job. They fall in line relatively quickly and without complaint, but you’re sure they’ll get tired soon enough and rebel. For now, you tell Alexa to play a Christmas song mix and get the kids dancing as they help.

Andrei presses a kiss to your cheek, murmuring, “is it normal if I am afraid of our daughter?”

You giggle, Evie really is terrifying when she gets her mind set on something. She plants her hands on her hips and tells Maks he’s pouring the chocolate chips wrong and you have to swoop in before he starts to cry.

“Yes,” you agree quietly. “Totally normal because I am too.”

You pass Maks off to Andrei and your husband swings the five-year-old up onto his shoulders to keep him out from underfoot. He laughs and immediately grabs onto Andrei’s hair, “Dad! It’s like Remy, I’m Remy and you’re Lin-linweenie!”

A laugh bubbles out of your chest at Maks’s mispronunciation. Andrei grins at you and reaches up to tickle Maks’s side. He agrees with your youngest child and goes along with the game, listening as Maks directs him on what to do and correcting every time Maks gives him the wrong direction. You take a few minutes to really appreciate the way Andrei’s back and shoulder muscles move as he works.

He winks at you when he catches you watching.

You work with Dimitri on the snowball cookies, choking briefly on the cloud of powdered sugar he accidentally unleashes from the bag.

“Sorry, Mommy!” he yelps, looking concerned.

“I’m okay, baby,” you choke out, ruffling his hair while you cough into your shoulder. The cloud of sugar hangs slightly in the air and you know it’s going to settle into every crevice of the kitchen.

That’s a problem for a later time.

The girls manage to work together on their dough with minimal drama - of course you get the whine that Evie is bossy and Alina is messy and Kira is getting sprinkles everywhere even though there’s no sprinkles in the recipe. But for the most part, they’re working together nicely, which makes your mom heart really proud.

Like you predicted, they scatter to the wind after a few hours. Alina is the first to go, disappearing with a skip and a grin. Kira follows next, dragging Dimitri with her.

Maks is slumped over Andrei’s head, little hands on Andrei’s cheeks, and you know he has to be getting tired of holding the baby on his shoulders. But Andrei doesn’t say anything, continuing his job of scooping cookie dough out onto the baking sheets while telling Maks some kind of story. It’s really adorable.

Eventually Maks complains and wants to be let down, so Andrei swings him over his head. “There you go, Maks,” he says, ruffling the boy’s hair.

Maks slaps Andrei’s hand in a high-five, which is his latest move when saying hello or goodbye, and runs off into the den, screaming about wanting to watch Remy. The fact that he’s so obsessed with Ratatoille is cute, but you wish it had been a better movie for him to want to watch over and over.

“Dad and I can handle the rest, Eve,” you say to your last child standing. She’s carefully placing the gingerbread cookies an equal distance apart on the baking trays, tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth.

Andrei scoops a bit of raw cookie dough from the bowl and pops it in his mouth. “Yeah, zaychik, now is boring part. Putting trays in and out of oven,” he says, eyeing you in a way you know means he wants some alone time after the chaos of the last few hours with the kids.

“Promise you won’t let them burn?” She turns to face you both. “And you’ll call me when we can decorate?”

“Yes and yes,” you promise, kissing her forehead and brushing a smudge of flour from her cheek. “Go, have fun. Dad and I will handle it. You did such a great job keeping the troops in order.”

She beams at the praise and unties her apron, tossing it over a chair. “I’m going to make cards for all the boxes, okay?” Evie darts off before you can answer and then suddenly, the kitchen is quiet. Your ears are ringing slightly, but you can feel your shoulders relax.

It must show on your face, your relief at the quiet, because Andrei chuckles and opens his arms for you to step into a hug. You bury your face into his chest and inhale the mix of vanilla extract and cologne that’s seeped into his henley.

“I love them,” Andrei chuckles, voice vibrating through your chest. “But they are very loud.”

“Mhm,” you hum in agreement, lifting your face to rest your chin on his chest and look up at him. “But they’re really cute too, right, Linweenie?”

Andrei grins wider, showing off his dimples. “Very cute,” he replies, craning his neck to kiss you quickly.

You hum into the kiss, grinning when Andrei’s hands slip to your ass, squeezing. “You taste like chocolate,” you mumble against his mouth. “Sneaking all that dough is going to make you sick.”

“But who will make sure cookies are good enough for everyone?” Andrei asks cheekily, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Oh, so you’re quality control?” You tease, pulling away from his embrace so you can start loading the trays into the pre-heated ovens.

Andrei scratches at the few days’ growth of stubble on his face and hands you another tray. “Is a risk I’m willing to take,” he says, tone full of faux modesty.

“Our hero,” you joke back, stepping into his personal space again and reaching up to play with the buttons at the top of his henley. “Meanwhile, Kiry mentioned wanting to add something to her letter to Santa, but wouldn’t tell me what. She’s going to tell

Canes.”

Andrei rolls his eyes at the name of the Elf, the whole concept strange and silly to him. But he goes along with it for the kids’ sake.

“I need you to be stealth and figure out what it is,” you continue. “If it’s something small, we make it happen and keep the magic of Santa alive for a little bit longer for her.”

Your husband nods, eyes twinkling in a way that tells you he’s going to go above and beyond to make Kira’s list addition happen, no matter what it is. He’s always gone above and beyond to be the best dad and husband, making magic for your kids every day.

You love him all the more for it.

“Daddy!” Kira’s shout echos through the kitchen. “Come play mini sticks, Alina quit cause she’s losing.”

“Am not!” Alina shrieks.

You laugh and scratch your nails through his stubble. “Go, play mini sticks. I’ve got this,” you tell him.

His kisses you quickly again before jogging off to the den, calling out, “Dad versus kids!”

Their chatter starts almost immediately and you lean against the counter, Christmas music playing and the scent of gingerbread in the air, tired but so in love with your husband and kids.

[spnbabe67]

Just a Note

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of a little spicyness, mentions of injuries

Summary: When you start receiving little notes around the Bunker, you go on a hunt trying to find your secret admirer.

Word Count: 1600

Authors Note: This is my @spnfanficpond Secret Santa for @kazsrm67. This also fulfills squares for @jacklesversebingo and @anyfandomgoesbingo Happy Holidays everyone!

Jacklesverse Bingo Prompt: Secret Admirer

Any Fandom Goes Bingo Prompt: Head Wound

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Tag List: @zepskies @king-of-milf-lovers @king-of-milf-lovers

It started out as sticky notes placed strategically in places across the Bunker where only you would find them: on the mirror in your room, or on the stack of books you kept sequestered to a table in the corner of the library room. Various colors of square paper with little compliments, albeit a little awkward, scrawled across them. The first time you’d found one, a blue square tucked into the cubby where you kept your bug-out bag in the armory, you’d been caught off guard. The neon, stark against the muted brown and black and grey tones, had caught your eye as you went about replacing and checking the supplies you kept within your duffel. You plucked the paper from where it was nestled amongst the various weapons and supplies kept within, sitting in wait for the next hunt. As you gingerly pulled the sticky note from your bag, you noticed the scrawling words written across it in black ink. 

You look sharper than these knives.

Your head cocked to the side, face contorted into a mixture of confusion and amusement. Was that meant to be a compliment? More importantly, who was it from? Aside from yourself, Sam and Dean both took up permanent residence in the Men of Letters Bunker. Charlie, your childhood best friend and the person who introduced you to the Winchester brothers and the hunting world in general also lived here 90% of the time. It could be here playing one of her many pranks. A few other hunters used this place as refuge between hunts or came here for the endless trove of supernatural knowledge archived within its walls. You’d even convinced Dean, despite his best efforts to ignore your pleas, to host a couple seminars and training sessions for newer (and seasoned) hunters using the knowledge you and Sam spent hours upon hours organizing. 

“When I was first introduced to this world, I wish I’d had this kind of training available to me,” You’d reasoned with him one day in the kitchen. “I’d have a lot less scars and a lot less near death experiences if I had.”

The eldest Winchester, whom you’d grown close to in the months you’d worked with him, Sam, and the cabal of supernatural beings that they considered friends or at the very least occasional allies, leaned against the island with a mug of freshly brewed coffee in hand.

“I’m not sayin’ it’s a bad thing, Sweetheart.” Dean placated you, setting his mug on the counter. “All I’m sayin’ is that there’s more to it than just puttin’ flyers on the street. How would we even advertise somethin’ like this?” 

You shrugged. “You’re smart, you’ll figure it out.”

And figure it out he had. With the help of Charlie and Sam, the four of you managed to create a strategically worded ad, spreading it to known hunters who would even be remotely interested. It had spread like wildfire from there. So it was very possible one of the hunters passing through had put it in your bag. Even that explanation didn’t quite fit, but at the time it was a one-off, a fluke to never happen again.

That was until another one showed up. You’d taken a blow to the head when a rogue shifter slammed you back into a wall, knocking you unconscious. Blearily you opened your eyes to the dim light of the Bunker’s infirmary. A dull ache throbbed at the back of your head as you looked around. The room was kept mostly dark save for a lamp in the corner. I must have a concussion, you thought as you sat up, the crisp white sheets crumpled on your lap. You had reached over to check the clock on the table next to the bed when you saw yet another Post-it stuck to the top of it. The paper was red this time, but the writing held the same characteristics of the first one. 

You take my breath away.

Your eyes must have read the sentence a hundred times over, wracking your brain trying to figure out who in the Hell is leaving you these messages. Some rational part of you whispered there were really only two options. Sam or Dean. You knew it wasn’t Sam; your relationship with the younger brother was strictly familial. You’d never seen him as anything other than a younger brother, despite his protests that he was only 6 months younger than you. 

Dean on the other hand was a different story. Sometimes he acted like you were another younger sibling for him to be responsible for, other times the tension between the two of you could be cut with the dullest knife. Lingering eyes as the three of you changed between or after hunts, his fingers trailing over your hair and tucking it behind your ear when he assumed you were dead asleep. You’d be lying if he was the only one giving mixed signals. It made sense. To anyone who didn’t know him, Dean was a casanova, a womanizer who took what he wanted and offered nothing. And sure, maybe he was that way in his early 20’s, but life and the work of a hunter had taken a toll on him. So while you and Sam partook in one night stands, it was Dean who usually ended the night alone. 

You found the notes enduring, actually, and very in character for him. So from that moment in the infirmary, you compiled the notes and the occasional small gifts left for you. Once you were sure it was, in fact, Dean showering you in corny one liners and sweet nothings, you hatched a plan. You figured there were a couple ways to go about it. One: confront him head on, which he very well might deny all together in embarrassment. Two: let the notes continue to pile up, hopefully bottlenecking Dean into coming to you personally. Or three: beat him at his own game. Out of all of them, the third sounded the most fun.

Like a game of tag, the next time it was your turn to go on the supply run, you stopped by a Dollar Tree and grabbed a stack of Post-its. Unfortunately, they only had the plain and frankly ugly yellow ones, but they’d do. If you played your cards right, you shouldn’t need too many of them anyway. You snuck around the Bunker for nearly a week, leaving the Post-its in inconspicuous places as Dean had. The first one you’d left next to the decanter of water he kept by his bedside, calling him a tall drink of water. The next one was slid under his disassembled 1911 when he went to take a break. You giggled to yourself as you positioned it, reading the line you’d printed on it. Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

On the 7th day with no response from Dean, no change in behavior when the three (or four when Charlie came for dinner) of you went on hunts or stuck around the Bunker, you had started to lose hope. Maybe it was someone else and you’d read into the situation completely wrong. But something in your gut told you that you were barking up the right tree. Give it one last try, it seemed to say. So one last try it was. You’d know once and for all if it was Dean. You wrote the message that started it all on a sticky note, making sure Dean was in the kitchen before slinking off to the armory. All of you kept at least one bingo bag here, the main thing was finding which one was Dean’s. He kept his main pack in his room or in Baby’s trunk so it took some rooting around until you found the right one. 

Just as you unzipped the bag, poised to place the sticky note against the blade of one of Dean’s hunting knives, a voice called out your name from behind you. You froze, your lips pressing into a thin line as a small cheeky smile started to form. You stood up, turning around to see Dean leaning against the door jam.

“Whatcha doin’ Sweetheart?” He asked innocently, but his tone and the smug look on his face was anything but.

“Nothin’.” You mumbled, suddenly a little sheepish. The plan didn’t involve you getting caught red handed. “You weren't supposed to catch me.”

“Figured as much.” He joked, crossing the space between you, plucking the Post-it from your hand, his fingers brushing against your own in a way that made your heart flutter a little faster than it already was. 

“Asshole.” You huffed equally as teasing,watching him look at the sticky note, reading your chicken scratch. 

You were both silent as Dean’s eyes met yours, his cheeks tinged a bit pink. You were sure your own were as well as you suddenly felt the urge to hide from his observing gaze. 

“So,” Dean breathed. “What now?”

Ever the gentleman, you thought. Giving you the option to back out, to deny this thing between you both even though he’d quite literally caught you leaving a flirtatious note in his bag. You let your hand drift forward, hesitantly finding his own. You intertwined your fingers, feeling his callouses brush your own as you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I think now, you need to start sayin’ those things to me in person, not just on paper.” You gave him a small smile.

“Sounds like a plan, Sweetheart.”

[voikiraz]

— In 𐔌 𝓜y ͡꒱ eyes [ l.hs ]

Lovers . Bf!heeseung x fem!reader ⠀𝑤. Petnames, skinship, that's it i think step ? #885 M.recordings [ if this feels rushed or forced pls tell me, again this is part of @cupidhoons series ahhh, I can't believe I actually got both done, but hope you like it >< ]

Syn. Four times heeseung marked your moment as the most special and decided he wants to keep you next to him forever.

This is so silly but i think heeseung would have a photo binder full of polaroids of you, pictures of you guys on dates, his friends and family etc. And he definitely has one in his wallet too ( I'm indulging in lover ; heeseung )

𝑜𝑛𝑒

It was a random date night, but considering that you haven't had some time for yourselves in a while, it hit you differently, and you sure missed him, it was a day that you appreciated more each second the more you think about it.

Knowing that he put so much effort in taking you out every week even though you knew his days were jam packed.

“Thank you hee, I missed going out with you, I was starting to experience withdrawals” you say, twirling around the glass containing your drink while you waited for the food.

“Anything for you baby, plus you deserve it” he said, holding your hand and the night continued on, talking about your weeks and sharing each other's food (or stealing it ).

And by the end of the day, he had to pull out his polaroid camera, he genuinely had it with him all the time.

It was his way of keeping the moment with him for as long as he could.

He asked one of the waiters to take a picture of you two, and you displayed the bouquet of flowers he got you this morning, white and pure like the love he provides you.

𝑡𝑤𝑜

You were very tempted to ignore your friends and go back to sleep, why would they wake you up before sunrise just so you can enjoy the good weather?

But they drove a hard bargain the moment they told you heeseung was coming too, who were you to decline spending time with your boyfriend.

You got up and started getting ready at a speed that made your friends scoff at you at how fast you changed your mind.

As you walked around the empty streets near the river, all you could focus on was him, making you earn a few ( fake ) disappointed sighs from your friends, declaring that they hate couples ( even though they're your biggest supporters ).

The group stopped somewhere to decide where they should have breakfast before moving any further, forgetting the two love birds somewhere on the other side of the road.

And they stood there, sickeningly staring at each other as if they weren't capable of ever looking away.

And when heeseung decided that you look way too pretty to not snap a picture, he pulled out his camera, and so did jake, he thought this was the perfect moment to capture your intense love for each other.

“You're so gorgeous, my love” Jake heard heeseungs voice mumble those few words out and he wished he minded his own business.

“Okay enough please, never do that infront of us again” Jake complained in a whiney voice, brushing you off and walking further.

𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒

On a warm night, when your boyfriend decided that it's the perfect weather for a sleepover and some hot chocolate, the last thing you expected to do is let said boyfriend drag you out in the cold.

“Y/n come on there's shooting stars outside.” He said almost in a whiny voice, wearing his heavy jacket and waiting for you by the door.

You were contemplating, did you really want to get out from under the comfortable blankets to go see shooting stars?

Well, If he was asking so nicely, how cruel would you be if you denied him such a request?

“Fine, give me a second.” You said, running up the stairs to go get your jacket then beelining towards where he stood once more.

He threw a giddy smile on his face and a light kiss on your cheeks, one that appears with a chuu sound paired with it, making you giggle.

He pulled your wrist and in a second you were outside, enjoying the snow and the shooting stars, the cold breeze contrasting the warm toned living room that you were buried in a second before.

“Omg we should take a picture, come here” he pulled you close to him, holding the camera up and hiding his face in the warmth of his jacket.

‘Click’

“It's so pretty,” he said in awe, then looked at you in a swift motion “not as pretty as you though.” He paired his flirty line with a wink.

𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟

It was finally new years night, and you were excitedly waiting for the countdown to start, waiting for heeseung to claim you as his new years kiss.

And he delivered with no hesitation, making it feel like it'll never be the last time.

He gave you the world and more. And you were forever grateful for him, the way you could picture yourself living with him for as long as you'll breathe. Safe like you've never been before.

You love Lee Heeseung, and you dont remember what it feels like not to.

“Pose for the camera love birds,” you heard Giselle call for you two and you happily obliged, taking a few pictures on her phone, ( that she'll probably never send to you ).

But of course, you had to take your special polaroid picture with the person you'll want to engrave in your ribs forever.

© voikiraz 2O24

[rottenherbs]

Rumors and Lies // H.P x reader

Summary: Harry is frustrated that a new rumor is spreading in the hall about your relationship. You try to cheer him up in any way you can. 

Word Count: 972

Author's Note: Super fluffy! (Also sorry for the sentence with the “made made” i literally was wracking my brain for a better  phrase but it literally just works LOL 

[masterlist]

Much love, Saige 

———-

Being Harry’s girlfriend was not for the faint of heart. Obviously, many girls at school swooned over the boy, and jealousy wasn’t a trait of yours, but the bullying and quips that were whispered in the halls always hurt you more than it did him. It wasn't until something was circulating about your relationship that hindered Harry in a way you’d never seen before. 

“You know I love you for who you are. Okay?” 

“I know you do, it just frustrates me that they won’t just accept that I love you, i am with you!! Like ONLY you!” He scoffed, head in hands. His head was spinning, anger throughout his body. He was having a hard time maintaining his composure, kicking himself mentally in how he was behaving around you. He knew it wasn't that big of a deal, but it was… sorta. 

Unfortunately, its been the second time this week a peer of yours had gone up to Harry and attempted to swindle him into a date; well aware that you two were together. It was embarrassing, not only for the girl, but slightly for Harry. The situation was awkward and he hated being put in a position like that. A rumor had gone around that he was seeing the ravenclaw prefect.

Was this going to be an ongoing thing? Harry thought. 

He sat on the edge of his bed, his hands raking through his hair, pulling at the roots slightly. It kept racing through his mind that people had the implication that he’d leave you, at all, none the less for some Ravenclaw prefect. He worshiped the ground you walked on, constantly trying to be a better person for you. Even the idea of breaking your heart made his blood pressure rise. 

You could see how upset he was getting. You walked over and sat next to him on his bed. His body slumped slightly into yours as you sat, his head thumping on your shoulder in defeat. Wrapping your arms around him, you hummed lightly into his hair, planting light kisses. After a minute of silence, Harry took a deep breath in, his hands slowly moving across his lap to yours.  

“I’ll never leave you for someone else. I hope you know that.” He mumbled, his thumb rubbing his hand roughly in an attempt to calm himself. “No matter what people say in the halls” 

“I know love. Believe me, no one could rip you from my grasp.” You chuckle, whispering into his ear. Your arms snake around him, squeezing his body as tight as you could. Harry laughed, his arms bound to his sides, falling back onto the bed. You both laugh and tousle slightly, your arms racing around tickling any exposed skin. His face was twisted into a fit, his glasses askew on his face, his cheeks warm and red from laughing.

Somehow after a minute, the tables had turned, Harry was on top of you, your arms pinned above your head, both of you entirely out of breath. You smiled up at him, your armpits suddenly feeling very vulnerable to his touch, not knowing what his next move would be. 

Harry looked down at you, his eyes twinkling with a sense of power. He loved being on top of you. Your hair was disheveled and your lips were parted slightly, exhaling from your mouth. You were undeniably perfect, and he wished he could stare at you all day. Scrunching your eyebrows, you looked up at him sternly, becoming antsy under his touch. 

“Are you just going to hold me down all day?” You scoffed rolling your eyes sarcastically. The corner of your lip quivered in a smile, unable to hide your true feelings. 

“I might.” He chuffed, looking around the room. “Doesn’t look like we have anywhere to be.” Looking back down at you, his smile was more mischievous. Any movement he made - made you squirm under his touch, his hands only tensing around your wrists harder. The air in the room changed, the tension was palpable you swore you could taste it. 

Just as Harry was leaning down, itching his way closer to you, the door to the shrared dormitory swung open, slamming itself against the wall echoing around the room. Both of you turned your heads towards the sound, Harry's legs still straddling your waist. 

“Mate. You know the rules.” Ron scoffed, his hands flying to cover his eyes. He stood for a moment, his sight shielded from both of you. Harry didn’t move off of you, his head fell back, smacking his forehead with his palm.  You laughed at them both, the theatrics of the pair was beyond entertaining. 

“We weren’t even-“

”You’re ontop of her!” 

“No we were just”

“Listen.. I'll be back in an hour, but I swear if there isn't a sock on the door handle and you two are…… frolaking… believe me there will be a new story around the halls.” He shook his head, freeing one of his hands from his face miming around him attempting to find the door handle. You and Harry watched him struggle, both holding back laughter until he successfully closed the door. 

“Maybe a rumor about us “frolaking” wouldn’t be that bad huh?” You tapped your finger on your chin, inquiring playfully. Harry's smile grew, leaning back down again just inches from your face. 

“We ought to do it anyway. Wouldn’t want Ron to be a liar now would we?” 

[justmeinadaze]

Kai (Part of the I'm In Control Universe)(Steddie X You)

A/N: I told you I was working on this :). This is literally pure fluff. Just Steddie being dads. This is a mix of some conversations followers and I have had about these two in this universe mixed with some asks.

Please Enjoy <3

Warning: Part of this universe

No smut, very light angst, mentions of readers uber religious parents and wishing they accepted her and her family. Their son gets sick so mentions of a simple surgery, baby boy has a nightmare and Steve soothe <3. Like I said...Just straight pure unadulterated fluff.

Word Count: 2957

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“Hey, little man. Oh my goodness, that’s a big yawn.”, Steve coos as he finishes carefully putting on his newborn son’s diaper while you and Eddie were passed out on the living room couch. “Alright, buddy, there we go. Oh, oh, oh, I know.”

As the little boy grunts in what Steve perceives as annoyance, he places him against his bare chest and softly bounces him a bit as he heads towards the patio doors to look out at the morning sun just barely peaking over the water across the beach. 

“It’s a beautiful view, huh? Your mommy loves the beach. When your daddy and I were looking for a nice, big house, we knew we wanted something near the water. Your name means water…or sea rather…in Hawaiian. Kai. We took mama there for our sudo-honeymoon and she had so much fun swimming. The tour guide told us that and she thought it was a gorgeous name. We did to, buddy. Yeah we did.”, he grins. “Kai Matthew Munson-Harrington.”

Placing his palm on the back of the boy’s head, Steve tilted down to kiss his forehead and inhale is baby smell that you pointed out all the time.

“I love you so much.”

The man’s smile grew when Kai shifted, nuzzling a bit more into his neck. 

His father took that as a silent “I love you to, dad.”

***

“Whenever we dream, that's when we fly So here is a dream for just you and I.”

Eddie sings softly as he holds the bottle to the baby’s lips as his son looks up at him with wide eyes as if hanging on his every word. 

“Oh, here we see the wizard staring through the glass And he's pointing right at you Now you can see tomorrow, the answer and the lie And the things you've got to do, yeah.

Okay, dude. You all done? Yeah?”

After placing the bottle beside him on the table, the metalhead tosses the rag over his shoulder and carefully positions Kai over it before firmly patting his back the way the doctors showed them. With a couple more pats, a strong but subtle burp escaped the baby’s lips making Eddie laugh like a little kid. 

“Good job, buddy. That was a burp that can only be rivaled by your mother.”, he teased as he brought the boy back down so he could look at his little face and wipe his mouth. “Don’t tell her I said that.”

Kai’s big eyes continued to run over his father’s face while Eddie continued to talk absently. 

“I can play that song you know. ‘Sacred Heart’. Wanna hear daddy play it?” The metalhead beamed as the baby cooed and he careful rose to his feet to place him in his little lean back rocking chair. 

Grabbing his guitar and sitting in front of him, Eddie began slowly strumming the tune, smirking when Kai flinched in surprise at the noise before waiting for his father to do it again. He granted his wish and began to fully play while keeping his own eyes on his son as his fingers played what he knew by heart. 

“Oh, sometimes you never fall And, ah, you're the lucky one But, oh, sometimes you want it all You've got to reach for the sun.”

The boy kicked his feet excitedly as Eddie continued, beaming with pride that his son enjoyed hearing him play. 

***

Steve snapped a picture from behind your brother’s shoulder as he jumped up from behind the sofa causing a four-month-old Kai to laugh uncontrollably while you held him up with his feet balancing on your knees. 

“Where’s Matthew? Where did Matthew go, baby?” 

Your son looked around including at his dad to find his answer but jumped in your grasp when his uncle seemingly popped up out of nowhere before cackling.

“Boo!”

“Oh my goodness!” 

Kai collapsed into your chest as he continued to giggle while Matthew sighed happily, coming around to sit beside you both. 

The front door opened as Eddie came through and placed his things by the door. 

“Hey, baby. How was recording?”

“It went pretty good. We just have a few more songs to run through. Hey, Matt—”

“Hello, darling.”, your brother cut him off. 

The metalhead playfully glared his way before coming around to kiss you and the baby in your arms. 

“Little miss and little dude.”

Kai smiled and pointed towards Eddie who got the message as he took his son from your grasp. Seeing Steve outside, he opened the backdoor and you smirked as you watched the three boys you loved interact.

“I can’t tell.”

“Can’t tell what?”, you ask.

“I can’t tell whose genes he has. Can you?” When you shake your head, he gently swats at your thigh. “Liar.”

“I’m not lying. I just…I have a feeling but I don’t know for sure and honestly it doesn’t matter. They are both Kai’s father.”

Matthew grins as he playfully wraps his arm around you and pulls you closer so he can kiss the top of your head. 

“I, um, I did what you asked… Sent mom and dad a picture of Kai.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Dad’s reply was the calmest of course.”

“What did he say?”, you whisper already prepared for the answer.

“He said…your son is beautiful and has a cute smile. That…he can’t wait to meet him one day and that you are going to be a wonderful mother.”

Curling further into his side, you beam up at him with tears glistening in your eyes. 

“Liar.”

***

“Dada.”

Steve grins at the sound of his eighteen-month-old while continuing to flip through his camera’s settings without looking up. 

“Hey Kai. Did you and mommy have fun visiting TJ?”

“Ma…Mama…”

“Oh my God, Y/N, look how big he’s gotten!”, Avery squeals from his spot the other man had placed him in within his studio under the lights. 

“I know! My baby.”, you whine as you hug him closer before placing him on his feet and holding his little palm to guide him towards your friend. “How are you two doing? Get some good shots for the article?”

Your former client grins wide as he opens his arms and you let your son go to waddle his way. With a big hug, he lifts him into the air as the man you love snaps a quick picture. 

“Oh yeah. ‘Diamond Studio’s most successful owner.’ My mom was incredibly proud.”, he beams.

Steve glances your way just in time to see your eyes fall before you softly smile and praise your friend. 

“Alright Av, I think I got everything here. I’ll send them to the editor of the magazine and they’ll choose from there.”

“Thank you so much, Steve. I really appreciate you doing this.”

“Thank YOU for recommending me.”, he chuckles as he watches him hand Kai back to you.

“You should go visit TJ and ask him how he enjoyed his visit with his grandson.”, you tease as you playfully widen your eyes. “Oh yeah. He called him grandpa and I about died.”

As soon as the boy left, Steve came over to kiss your forehead before guiding you on to his set.

“Dada.”

“Yes, my love. That’s dada.”, you encourage as the man brushes some of his son’s hair from his face. 

Backing away slowly, Steve knelt down and balanced his elbow on his knee as he took a photo.

“What’s running through your mind, pretty girl?”

When you heavily sigh, Kai’s big eyes scan over your face as you smile down at him and his father takes another picture. 

“I know it’s silly but…Avery’s parents understood when he came out and explained to them what he did for a living. I just wish…”

“…your parents understood to.”, Steve finished for you and you nod. “That’s not silly, babe. For you both, you and Kai, I wish they weren’t so stubborn but that’s not your fault. They are missing out on so many amazing experiences including getting to know their grandson.”

Your eyes closed as your trembling lips kissed the baby’s forehead and Steve’s camera clicked. 

While messing with the settings, he came over to where you were and showed you the last picture he took. 

“This right here is one of the many things Eddie and I love about you, honey. In this one photo, I see a beautiful woman and mother who would do anything for her son because she loves him with all her heart. A heart that isn’t closed off and closed minded. A heart that loved two stubborn assholes and helped us grow into who we are now. We wouldn’t be where we are today without you, baby. Neither would half the people you employ and watch over like Avery. If they can’t see that, Y/N, then fuck em.”

Steve pulls you to his chest as you begin to cry but little hands pushing at you both elicit a small laugh. As you lean back, his tiny palms touch your cheeks as Kai pouts out his lips and lightly headbutts you as he tries to kiss your forehead.

***

Eddie holds his two-year-old son to his chest as you three wait for the doctor to come back with the results. Kai fusses in his sleep causing the metalhead to make sure he was alright as he continued to pet his head. 

“You don’t think they gave him too much medication, do you?”

“Eddie—"

“He’s just really little, Y/N, and that was a big shot of liquid. What if they gave him too much—”

“Baby, it’s ok. He’s ok.”, you comfort as you rise to your feet to sit beside him. “They said it would bring down his fever and help with the pain. At least he’s finally sleeping.”

“Alright, family, thank you for waiting. It looks like little Kai does have another ear infection so Miss Y/L/N, we’ll move forward with what we talked about with putting tubes in his ears. It’s a short surgery—”

“Surgery? It’s that bad that he needs surgery?”, Eddie interrupted. 

“It’ll be extremely fast, at most thirty minutes, and once we’re done you can take him home. We put him under and insert the tubes to drain the fluid—”

“Put him under? I thought you said it was short but you have to put him under? Isn’t he too little for that?”

“Eddie, baby, he’ll be ok. This will help him in the long run so he won’t be in pain.”, you try to soothe as you rest your head on his shoulder. 

“Can we be in there with him?”, Steve asks.

“Of course, but, um, we only allow, um, two…”

“Ok, let us know when everything is ready.”

After the doctor leaves, the pretty boy places himself in front of you with a big smile. 

“You two stay with him and I’ll wait here for him to come back. Maybe I can see if they’ll let me start signing paperwork so we can leave as soon as possible.”

“Steve—”

“I think it would be good for them both for you to be in there, baby.”, he whispers making you smile as well as you two glance the metalhead’s way as he hugs Kai tighter. 

“I just hate him being in pain. If I could take it all away and feel it for him I would.”

Gently running your fingers through his hair, you tilt up to kiss his cheek. 

“That’s one of the many reasons why you are an amazing father.”

***

A three-year-old Kai taps Steve’s arm rousing the man from a sound sleep. 

“Hm…wha…hey, hey, buddy. What’s going on? Are you ok?”

“I had a bad dream.”

“You had a bad dream? Ok.”, the man groans as he pulls back the covers and allows the boy to climb in beside him who giggles lightly when he wraps his strong arm around him to flip him over to face you and Eddie. “Do you want to tell me about your nightmare?”

Your son takes in the sight in front of him, you asleep with the metalhead’s own limps circled tightly around you. 

“I-I can’t find mommy.”

“She’s right there, honey.”, Steve answer groggily as he lazily points towards you. 

“No…in my dream…mommy gone.”

The man’s eyes fully open as he glances down to take in Kai’s nervous features as he reaches for your hand that on impulse you hold. 

“Mommy would never leave you, bud. She loves you so much.” He nods but Steve still sees the slight hesitancy as his dream plays through his expressive little eyes. “Did you know daddy and I lost mommy once? Not because she left or disappeared but because we were stupid.”

Kai’s head turned to look at his father, fully enthralled as he waited for him to continue. 

“Yeah, we thought we were protecting her so daddy and I left.”

“How can you keep mommy safe if you weren’t there?”

Steve chuckles lightly and through the darkness he notices Eddie smirk as well. 

“That’s a good question, little man. Like I said, we were stupid. But…we realized our mistake and did everything we could to get mommy back. We realized that she loved us dorks for who we are and just wanted to be there for us. We were terrified to let her in but when we finally did it was the best thing we ever did.”

“Why?”

“Because we love her and…”, he pauses as he kisses the boy’s forehead. “…we love you. You two are the best things to ever happen to daddy and me. We’d never let anyone hurt you or mommy. No one is going to take her away and no matter what the three of us will be here for you, Kai.”

The boy’s head turns as you sigh in your sleep before jostling you slightly as he crawls between you and Eddie’s arms to curl up against your chest. 

“Everything ok, baby?”, you mumble when you feel his hair brush against your chin. 

“I love you, mommy.”

“I love you to, honey.”

Steve watches with a smile as you kiss the back of your son’s head and you both drift off to sleep. 

***

“Hey, Y/N? Can we talk, baby?”

“Uh oh.”, you joke as your eyes meet your four-year-olds across the lunch table and he giggles your way. 

“Get out of here, butthead, so we can talk to mommy.”, Eddie jests before helping the boy to his feet and you three watch as he scurries to the tv in the living room.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, little miss, of course.”, Steve begins as they both sit on either side of you. “We wanted to talk to you about our careers when it comes to porn. We, um, we were thinking about retiring.”

Your eyes widen in slight surprise as your gaze shifts to the other boy who nods at his friend’s statement. 

“Ok, may I ask why?”

“Kai.”, Eddie answers as he leans forward to take your hand in his. “We’ve been doing this for a little over ten years? I think. Because of porn, we were able to find you and have the best life we could ever dream of, sweetheart. Now we want to focus on him and something he can be a part of. I love bringing him to the studio with me and seeing him light up when I play or sing.”

“I like bringing him to our shoots. He talks to everyone and sometimes during sessions they’ll ask if I can take a couple with him. He’ll strike a pose and it’s so cute. I love being able to do that with him.”

You smile softly as you glance towards your son who laughs at something he sees on the television as he jumps up and down, clapping his hands. 

“I understand. I’m not sure what you have to do or if I have to do anything. I’ve never had a client retire. I’ll call TJ later and ask him.”

“Are you alright, baby?”

“Yeah, no, I’m fine. It’s just kind of weird, you know? You were my first clients and technically my last ones. It’s like…a part of my career is fully retiring to.”

“But look at where you are, sweetheart. You own your own agency and manage agents who take care of so many clients the same way you did. Avery owns a whole fucking studio and was in a magazine praising how amazing he is. Steve is a rockstar in the photography field and always booked up. We’re about to release an album that people already seem excited for which is so surreal to me.”, Eddie laughs and your grin his way. 

“None of that would have been possible without you.”

“Mommy?”, Kai calls as he runs up to your side and rubs your arm as you try to quickly wipe your tears. “Why you make mommy cry!?”

Both boys laugh lightly as you lift him off the floor and sit him in front of you on the table. 

“It’s happy tears, baby, I swear. Daddy and dada were just…being too sweet to me…”

“Don’t…don’t they always?”

“Yeah, they do.”, you grin as you kiss his forehead.

“Hey, can I get one of those?”, Steve jests as he stands, leaning towards you as he tries to kiss your lips but Kai’s little palm stops him as he tries to push him away.

“MY mommy! You don’t get kisses, dada.”

“Pfft like you can stop us.”, Eddie jokes, suddenly beside you as he hastily kisses your cheek before running towards the living room. 

“HEY!”, he shouts, climbing off you to chase after him.

You and Steve smile as he kisses your other cheek and follows both boys out the back door towards the beach. 

##############

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[redux-iterum]

Charred Legacy: Chapter Thirty-Eight

(AO3 counterpart here.)

Cloudpaw and Fireheart returned home just before evening turned to night. Quickly, they curled up in their respective nests and pretended to sleep, conveniently “waking up” as their Clanmates started to. With so many cats making their way around camp, the tell-tale pawprints were covered up almost immediately, and no one seemed to notice that Cloudpaw was a little more tired again.

Fireheart kept to his decision; he and Cloudpaw went out with Snowpaw, Ravenwing, and Greystripe to hunt. The decree for all warriors to travel in groups of four had been relaxed, at least in the southern part of the territory. Despite the lack of dog-scent and Snowpaw teaching Cloudpaw how to crawl silently, and the eased energy of his friends, Fireheart couldn’t bring himself to completely chill out. Evidently, his anger had left a few droplets of itself in his gut, and now he had to almost physically stop himself from thinking of his argument with Rosy, or those droplets would start to steam.  

He hated that. He didn’t want to have any negative emotions tied to his sister. But even a single thought calling back to her insulting Bluestar, and he would unconsciously turn his head away from whichever way he was facing and grimace as he forced new thoughts into his head and dug them in as deep as he could, hoping that would silence the words Rosy had said.

“Are you okay?” Greystripe murmured to him as Snowpaw signed something that made Cloudpaw chuff.

Fireheart defaulted to a lie. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” Greystripe gave him a light touch with a massive paw. “You’ve been completely silent all night and keep staring like you’re about to kill someone.”

Fireheart was tempted to stay silent in the hopes that his friend would let the matter drop, but he knew better. He sighed out, “Just thinking about the dogs. And hoping my sister’s okay.”

It didn’t look like Greystripe was satisfied with that answer, but he did nod and say, “Alright. If, uh, if you want to talk, you can tell me anything.”

Dared he tell him? If anyone was to understand a rule-breaker, it would be him. At the same time, if Fireheart started talking, his odds of ranting and upsetting Cloudpaw were a little too high for his liking.

“I’ll let you know,” was all he said, and they left it at that.

He managed to cool down and relax over the next few nights, though by the stars, was it a slow process. Speckletail seemed to notice his lingering tension and started putting him on more patrols, often without Cloudpaw. It helped to have his attention elsewhere, at least, and it was good to be out of camp where Darkstripe couldn’t scowl at him with one eye squinted. Fireheart didn’t trust that his temper would stay under control if he remained inside.

One night, Speckletail invited him to join herself, Willowpelt, and Sandstorm on a hunting patrol, which he took gladly. Cloudpaw looked at him with some disappointment and anxiety as he spoke to the deputy. Before he left, he approached his nephew with an order.

“I’d like you to stay close to camp tonight,” he said. “If any nests need refreshing, or the elders need grooming, take care of that. And visit Brightpaw, too. She seems to be doing better with you around.”

“She’s not as, um…” Cloudpaw tilted his head in thought. “Not as shut-down as before. But yesterday, I offered to take her out to make dirt and she started shaking really hard.”

Fireheart nodded sympathetically. “Then just bring her some prey or help clean her fur. You’re doing very well taking care of her and the elders.”

“I like doing it,” Cloudpaw said. “It’s fun.”

Something in Fireheart settled and he regarded his nephew fondly. “That’s the right attitude. I wish the other apprentices were more like you.”

Cloudpaw’s fur fluffed out and he puffed his chest proudly, his disappointment forgotten. Fireheart touched his nose to his forehead before turning around and following after his patrol out of camp.

It was a night of dense air, brought about by the fog that was thick enough to hide anything past the immediately surrounding trees wherever Fireheart stood. Despite this, and the snow on the ground that had turned hard and crunchy, Fireheart couldn’t help but enjoy himself. Even with his Clanmates around him, it felt private, quiet, and oddly comfortable—easy to step away from his thoughts and walk mindlessly in a void.

“Well, good luck to us finding anything tonight,” Sandstorm remarked, shaking out her smooth, pale fur. “I can’t even smell you right next to me, Willowpelt.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad.” Willowpelt tapped Sandstorm with her tail. “Just pay attention.”

“‘Just pay attention,’” Sandstorm snipped with no venom. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Speckletail turned her head back to squint jokingly at them. “That’ll be a great piece of advice if the two of you pipe down and start listening for prey.”

Sandstorm looked at Fireheart and gestured at the older mollies with playful exasperation. Fireheart twitched his whiskers, but said nothing. After waiting a moment, presumably for a response, Sandstorm faced forward again, her tail still.

It was difficult to tell exactly how far from camp they’d gone, but at some point Fireheart realized they were going past burnt trees. He looked to Speckletail, asking, “Have we been having luck hunting out here?”

“Oh, no.” Speckletail gestured vaguely with a sweep of her tail. “I was planning to take us out to the neutral grounds. Dustpelt’s patrol yesterday found a lot there.”

“Shame it’s come to that point,” Willowpelt said. “Nothing out there is quite as tasty as forest-born prey.”

“We’ll be back to it in spring, don’t worry.”

“I hope so.”

The conversation turned to mild chatter that Fireheart didn’t pay much attention to. He absorbed the false privacy of the fog. He hardly even heard his own pawsteps.

Imagine what it’d be like to be the only cat in the world, he thought, as the fog thickened, almost hiding his Clanmates. Not a care beyond finding shelter and food. No arguments or other cats to worry about.

…Maybe that’d be a little too lonely for me.

 “Hey, that’s interesting.”

Fireheart blinked back to reality. He’d lagged behind a fair few steps and only now saw Sandstorm at one end of a fallen, black tree, squinting at the roots, some of which were still clinging to a mound of disturbed, dark soil. 

“This wasn’t here before,” she said. “Did the fire do this?”

Fireheart trotted up to join her. The inner wood that the roots surrounded had been completely burned away, leaving a surprisingly large hole big enough to house a fox and her cubs.

“Weird,” was all he said.

Again, a pause and a look from Sandstorm, but she said nothing to him. Willowpelt and Speckletail joined them, examining the charred interior.

“Well, we won’t be finding any prey in there,” Willowpelt said. She nodded to the side. “But at least we’re close to the neutral grounds. Let’s get going.”

Speckletail flicked her tail. “You two go ahead. Fireheart and I will check around here, just in case.”

Fireheart blinked in surprise. Willowpelt and Sandstorm glanced at each other, then Speckletail, who flicked her tail more firmly, and they trotted off into the fog. Fireheart waited for them to disappear fully before turning to the deputy. He stopped before he could say anything; she was looking at him rather gravely.

“Um,” he said: half a question, half a prompt.

Speckletail approached him, looking down at him with a somewhat-unreadable face. He thought he caught concern and weariness in her eyes. “I’ve been meaning to talk with you privately. What’s troubling you?”

He restrained a flinch. “Troubling…? I, uh, I’m fine.”

“Fireheart, you can be honest with me,” Speckletail said with a calming blink. “I’ve been putting you on so many patrols recently because I’m concerned about you. You’re radiating this intense energy, and you always look like you’re about to get into a screaming match with whoever you’re talking to.”

Fireheart said nothing. His mind scrambled for an excuse.

“I don’t know what’s happened,” Speckletail went on, “but you’re affecting your apprentice. He’s nervous to be around you. Have you noticed that?”

He hadn’t. Fireheart stared at her, his mind now frantically scraping around for any memory of how he’d been acting since Cloudpaw came home. He couldn’t find any, just memories of stewing in his emotions and not paying attention to anything around him.

“Um,” he said again.

Speckletail sighed—though, Fireheart noticed, more in a melancholic way than frustrated. “You’re not in any trouble, you know. I just worry because I appreciate your help and energy in taking care of the Clan, and it’s hard to find that when you’re upset like this. Whatever’s going on, you can tell me.”

Should he? He clenched his jaw unconsciously.

“The thing is, if I’m going to be honest…” Speckletail glanced backwards, ears perked at the way the other mollies had gone, before turning to Fireheart and dropping her volume. “I’ve been giving you a lot of tasks because I’ve been testing you. I think you could be…”

She trailed off, straightening up and swiveling her ears.

Fireheart tilted his head. “What?”

“…I thought I heard something.” Speckletail squinted to her left, peering into the wall of fog. She slowly took a few steps in that direction, craning her neck forward, her ears working overtime. “Is someone here?”

Fireheart strained to catch any noise, almost squinting a little himself. Now that she mentioned it, there was something like paws shuffling through snow, growing a bit louder by the moment.

“I hear pawsteps,” he said, voice low out of instinct. “Sandstorm and Willowpelt didn’t leave that way, though…”

Speckletail’s eyes narrowed. “There isn’t supposed to be a patrol out here—”

Then she stopped, stiffening. Fireheart looked at her questioningly, going a little stiff himself when she said, “We need to find the others. Come on.” Before he could respond, she whipped around and started off at a run in the direction their Clanmates had gone, the haze swallowing her quickly.

Fireheart hastened after her, but with the fog and her footsteps fading almost immediately, he had to rely on her prints to catch up to her. Pawsteps did grow louder, but they were coming from a different direction—somewhere to Fireheart’s left. They were clunky and heavy, and there only seemed to be one… whatever animal it was, making that noise.

And it was rapidly getting closer.

Fireheart’s run turned into a sprint, just before a shape shot out of the fog and sent him skidding to a halt. He scrambled backwards, back-fur bristling.

It was impossible to tell what it was—tall, far too tall for any animal he’d seen before, and night-black, shaggy tendrils drifting off of its body. A pair of round lights dimly sat in the highest point of whatever this form was, focused directly on Fireheart. It was perfectly silent, and aside from the tendrils shivering a little from its breathing, perfectly still.

For a long moment, Fireheart couldn’t move. He couldn’t even think. He stared at this creature, and the creature stared back, its eyes brightening with interest and hunger. The memory of Swifttail’s story back in the Barn gripped his chest.

A long, pink tongue rolled out of what Fireheart could now guess was its muzzle and licked both sides of its mouth. Barely visible were long, jagged, white teeth, going so far up its head that for a moment Fireheart thought it could split in half just by opening its mouth.

Still staring at him, it started forward.

Terror, he thought. Terror with a mouth like a dog– is this a test?

Another memory of the Barn, this time a phrase he had learned from Barley. Inhaling as much as he could, he barked at the top of his voice, “NO!”

The thing stopped in its tracks, eyes losing some of their pale light. It tilted its head, licking its invisible lips again.

Just as it lifted a paw to take another step, a yowl sounded off and Terror turned its head to be greeted by a lunging Speckletail, her claws out and slashing at its face. It yelped, high and loud, and Fireheart stumbled backwards as Speckletail landed in front of him.

“Run!” she shouted. “Run and hide! Come on!”

Fireheart didn’t need to be told again; he whipped around and sprinted the way he had come, eyes darting left and right, looking for safety. Speckletail panted close behind him, followed by heavy footfalls and an equally heavy, much more monstrous panting from the creature.

“Split up!” Speckletail said, and suddenly her footsteps and breath veered away to the side.

Fireheart kept running, almost in a panic worse than the fire could have done to him, until his eyes caught the black log. Without a second thought, he dove into its innards, pressing himself hard against the deepest corner of the tree.

Wild-eyed, he watched the outside, waiting for the thing to poke its head in and discover him. But all he heard was scrabbling, a shout of alarm, and then snarls, accompanied by a shriek of fear and anger. His heart beating almost too hard for him to stay standing, Fireheart shook violently, fighting to get his body to move and failing.

Come on, he wanted to shout to himself. You weren’t like this during the fire! Speckletail could be hurt right now! Get moving!

But he couldn’t do anything. He tried to force his paws to move and only succeeded in crumpling to the ground.

Shortly, the snarls stopped, and heavy pawsteps galloped out of hearing range. Still, it took a long, long moment for Fireheart to be able to stand, shaking all the while, and poke his head out of the log to see what had happened.

One of the charred trees stood marred by claw-marks, coal-bark splintered off and spread on the ground around its trunk. Below it lay Speckletail, bleeding into the snow, her red life surrounding her and leading off into the dark fog. The beast was gone.

Fireheart’s panic flared again, this time pushing him to race for his deputy and circle around her, nudging and nosing.

“Speckletail!” he whispered, loud as a whisper could be while staying one. “Are you alive?”

Nothing but a ragged wheeze. Speckletail’s front legs were both bent backwards, her neck loose and stretched. Blood oozed out of multiple half-rings all over her body. She smelled oily and like saliva.

Fireheart looked around wildly. He couldn’t shout for help, or it would come back. But he couldn’t run to find someone and leave Speckletail alone.

Desperate and with no better ideas, Fireheart grabbed Speckletail by the scruff and started dragging her backwards in the vague direction of what he dearly hoped were the neutral grounds. Speckletail offered no resistance, nor support. Her breathing went quieter.

“Stay with me,” Fireheart pleaded through his teeth. “We’re getting you help. Just hold on.”

Speckletail wheezed again. Her neck where Fireheart gripped her was oddly soft.

“Just hold on,” Fireheart repeated, dragging as fast as he could. “Keep breathing.”

The search backwards was painfully slow. Fireheart stumbled multiple times, but he never loosened his bite and he refused to pause even for a moment. The snow crunched underneath his paws and a bloody trail dug through the white ground.

All the while, Fireheart tried to encourage Speckletail, even as he struggled to breathe and his limbs started shaking with the effort.

“Stay with me,” he said, over and over. “Keep breathing. Please.”

Speckletail said nothing the entire time. Fireheart kept talking, losing awareness of what he was saying.

An eternity passed before any noise came from behind him. He gingerly lowered Speckletail’s head and neck back to the ground and turned around, praying to every spirit and god he could think of for it to not be Terror again.

He could have cried with relief as Sandstorm and Willowpelt appeared out of the fog, out of breath and with wide, frightened eyes.

“We heard dogs,” Willowpelt said quickly. “What happened?”

Oh, Fireheart thought dimly. It was a dog.

“It attacked us,” he said weakly. “Speckletail got caught while I hid. We need to get her home—maybe to a vet or something, I don’t know, she’s pretty badly beaten up—”

“Fireheart…” Sandstorm went around him, crouched and nosed Speckletail. She looked up at him, morose. “She’s dead.”

Fireheart stared at her. “No, that—”

He used a paw to nudge Speckletail’s head, which loosely rolled back into place. He sniffed her muzzle. Not even the slightest breath.

“No,” he barely managed to get out in a whimper. “She can’t… no, she…”

Something rested on his side. Fireheart jolted as Willowpelt came to stand beside him, her eyes deeply sad and sympathetic. Her tail lifted away from him and she gave him a grieving, but resigned look.

Fireheart couldn’t speak. He could barely breathe.

Sandstorm hung her head, but stood up and sighed. “What now?”

Willowpelt looked at Fireheart, as did Sandstorm. He belatedly realized he had been asked a question, and could barely get an answer out.

“We need to bring her home,” he managed.

The mollies nodded in unison, and Willowpelt joined Sandstorm on the other side of Speckletail’s body. Working together, they hauled her onto Sandstorm’s long back. Fireheart did not pay attention to how he took the lead and began the slow journey back to camp.

They didn’t say a word the entire walk.

[inquisimer]

Arlow and Viago “can you hear my cry, an old lullaby drifting through the sky?” >:]

HELLO MY LOVE I am kissing you on the lips, I put that one on the list and was like "this is an arlow & viago prompt", thank you for reading my mind

Arlow de Riva & Viago | 808 words | for @dadrunkwriting - da4 spoilers, Viago ruminates (regrets?) Arlow's absence from Antiva

-

Viago missed Salle.

Not that the accommodations in Treviso were lacking—his apartments here were more than sufficient. But they were suffocating without Arlow there to fill the empty spaces where she usually was. He wished things were such that he could lock the door and flee to his villa in Salle.

But the Antaam remained. And he had no right to be missing Arlow, when he was the one who sent her away.

As she deserved, he reminded himself. If she had simply thought before launching herself at those Antaam, they would never have been in this situation. Yet, the ache in his throat remained.

Treviso’s skyline was bathed in the pink and orange hues of sunset. From the balcony, it was easy to imagine that the city was still theirs, and that Arlow would be tripping off a zip line any moment, reporting in on this contract or that surveillance. Smirking and insufferable, but alive and there.

“You’re brooding again.”

A Qunari war horn blasted Viago’s reminiscence to pieces. His fingers tightened on the railing. “I’m always brooding. You like it.”

Teia’s bare feet padded softly against the slats and Viago wrinkled his nose. Off the top of his head, there were half a dozen poisons easily concealed in wood stain and best absorbed through the skin. But she didn’t care about that—or, at least, she knew that he had the antidote for any toxin that could touch her only a whisper away.

“it is not half so attractive when you are truly troubled,” she murmured, propping herself as close to his side as she could without touching him. Her hair fell loose and unruly over the collar of his shirt. But even that only just hitched the melancholy tune of his thoughts. “You miss her.”

Viago huffed. “She is the most competent assassin in my House and we are under an occupation. It is like being without my best blades.”

“Do not pretend she is nothing more than a weapon to you,” Teia chided. “Lie to yourself, if you must, but do not lie to me.”

Viago’s nostrils flared, as they always did when Teia saw straight though him. He was learning to trust the tightrope she asked him to walk, but after a lifetime without a net, it was a hesitant process. Luckily for him, she had a penchant for hard cases.

“I have never sent her off for so long, nor so harshly,” he admitted. “And I do not know when she will return. It is… difficult.”

“You could know,” Teia suggested. “You could summon her back.”

“She has a contract.”

“And how will she know if she’s allowed to report in on it if you do not tell her that Antiva is open to her again?”

“You read my letter?” Viago raised a brow, but Teia’s smirk was unabashed. She shrugged and his gaze followed the fluid motion of her exposed collarbone.

“I wouldn’t have recommended leading with ‘idiot’, but she’s probably used to it.”

“If she wasn’t such an idiot all the time, she wouldn’t be,” Viago muttered. He looked down into the murky canal below and frowned. “She did not write back.”

Teia laughed, which only deepened his scowl. “Did you expect her to?”

“If the job was done, yes,” he snipped. “But it has been months.”

“And you sent her on an open-ended contract. I’m sure if anything drastic happened, Varric would write. That is why you hooked her up with him, no?”

Viago pursed his lips. “He has a track record of pulling asses out of fires. But I am not confident in his definition of drastic.”

“He is perfectly competent, as you well know. You’ve never let your conscience get in the way of logic before, don’t start now.” Teia laid her hand out, palm up on the railing. After a beat, Viago laced his gloved fingers with hers and she squeezed.

“If you want her back, Vi, you will have to face the other Talons and tell them so. Tell her so, in no uncertain terms. This is the corner you have painted yourself into.”

Viago glowered at the neighboring building. He hated few things as much as he hated Teia being right in a way that grated on his nerves. She could have at least done him the courtesy of acknowledging that he was not the only party at fault in this scenario.

“She will tell me when the job is done,” he said stubbornly. “When the job is done, and her lesson is learned, then we will bring her home.”

Teia sighed and shook her head. The sun slipped below the horizon and a familiar cloak of darkness covered them both. Covered Arlow, too, in the east. In Tevinter.

His throat tightened. Use it well, he thought. Use it well, and come home.

[xmads-omensx]

Sorry if I'm overdoing it with yet another request.

Levi Ackerman x female reader

fluff/ one shot

Levi and Y/N are married and they have a 3 year old son. There is a visit from Santa Claus at the mall. The boy learned that his father's birthday is on the same day as Christmas. So, he demands two gifts from Santa Claus for Levi and also for himself. The boy says he also wants his birthday to be at Christmas too.

I don't know if I managed to make you understand. But the story would be fun too.

Thanks. I don't know if the same person can make another request.

DAY 21 - MALL SANTA VISIT

Word Count: 1,591

pairing: Levi Ackerman X wife!reader

content warnings: modern au, they have a child, fluff

Of course, you can send as many requests as you like! I really enjoy writing them so it's no problem at all!

Also sorry it took so long to post, I decided to use it as part of my 25 Days of Christmas <3

Hope you enjoy :)

Furlan was fascinated by the prospect of the shopping mall having a Santa Claus who could grant your Christmas wishes.

He thought Santa was only supposed to live in the North Pole, but his Aunt and Godmother, Hange had told him all about it.

She told him that Santa sometimes had to travel to shopping malls because then he could make sure he was getting everybody’s Christmas wish correct.

He couldn’t wait.

Levi was less than ecstatic when I told him about our weekend plans to visit the mall Santa that Saturday, but he went along with it to make Furlan happy.

That Saturday morning, we had been rudely awoken by Furlan’s excited shouts as he flung himself onto our bed giggling to himself.

Levi took him into his arms before placing a kiss on the top of his head and whispering a quick good morning to me.

Furlan had been counting down the days ever since Hange told him about the legendary mall Santa.

I got myself dressed whilst Levi got Furlan ready, then grabbed my handbag and jacket before heading down to the front door.

Levi had already strapped Furlan into his car seat and had opened the passenger door for me to climb into. As I got into my seat, I paced a chaste kiss on his cheek before he closed the car door behind me.

The entire drive was full of Furlan’s cheery voice singing his favourite Christmas songs.

“Hange!” Furlan shouted, pointing out the window as we pulled into the shopping mall car park. And sure enough, he was right. Next to her beat up pickup truck, Hange stood excitedly waving at us as we pulled into the parking space beside her in Levi’s sleek, black car.

Furlan wiggled with excitement in his seat as he anxiously waited for Levi to unstrap him so that he could rush to his Aunt.

“I didn’t know you were coming.” Levi huffed, secretly glad to see his friend.

“Y/N here mentioned that you weren’t quite done Christmas shopping, so I figured I would come and keep her company whilst you and Erwin finished shopping.” She explained happily, hugging me tightly as we laughed.

“Erwin?” Levi questioned, his eyebrow raising.

“Yep!” Hange exclaimed with glee, pointing at the white range rover that had just pulled into the car park a few spaces along from them.

Erwin exited his car with a big wave as Furlan giggled in Hange’s arms at his Godfather.

“So what, you’re shipping Erwin and I off while you two go to visit Santa?” Levi asked with his usual frown.

“Yep!” I exclaimed, kissing his cheek.

Erwin walked over to the group and immediately began to usher Levi into the mall to “escape the wrath of Hange” as he put it, since he still hadn’t managed to bring a plus one to the annual Christmas party.

Hange and I entered the shopping mall shortly after Erwin and Levi.

The plan was to look in some of the shops before heading to the ‘North Pole’ that had been set up outside of one of the larger department stores in the mall.

We would meet Levi and Erwin there, as Levi still wanted to take his son to see Santa, despite the fact that he was never a huge fan of the holiday, or the excess decorations that looked messy and cluttered when they were hung up in the bust shopping mall.

“So, what have you gotten Levi? Because I have no idea.” Hange asked.

“For Christmas, or his birthday?” I replied.

“Christmas, you know he only lets you get him birthday gifts.” Hange replied.

“I got him a new winter coat that he asked for, and a new teacup for his collection.” I replied. The teacup was tradition, so there was very little point in me even telling Hange that I had purchased it for Levi.

“Ugh, that’s boring!” Hange complained.

“Hey, you asked.” I defended. “And besides, you know Levi only ever asks for practical things if he really needs them, and even then he only asks me to get them for him.” I finished with a laugh.

“But seriously, I want to  get him something and you are literally his wife so give me answers!” She demanded, practically hanging off of my arm.

“Why don’t you get him some new gloves? He likes those leather ones but they have a hole in the pinkie.” I suggested, making Hange’s eyes roll. She never liked getting anyone practical gifts.

“But that’s boring.” She complained.

“But Levi will like it.” I mocked her tone.

“Ugh, why is your father so dull, Furlan?” Hange asked my son who clutched my hand tightly in his own.

“He’s not dull, he just has specific tastes.” Furlan recited to Hange what Levi often said to him when he didn’t want to get the pain sets out.

Hange and I both burst out laughing at my son’s robotic response, sounding exactly like his father.

“Okay, back to the topic at hand.” Hange began once again. “So I can’t get Levi anything for his birthday? Only Christmas?”

“Hange, you know the answer.” I began.

“I know! But I just figured that since they fall on the same day, it shouldn’t matter what I get him because they will blur together anyway.” She explained.

“You do have a point, but you know he doesn’t like his birthday.” I went on.

“I know. I guess I just keep hoping that one year he’ll change his mind and want to celebrate it.” Hange added with a sigh.

“What are you talking about mama?” Furlan asked.

“Your dad’s birthday.” I replied. I didn’t want to have to explain to Furlan why his father hated his birthday.

“Does daddy not like his birthday?” He asked. His large, round grey eyes staring back up at me.

“No, he doesn’t sweetie.” I replied with a smile.

“Why not?” He asked. Shit. There was that question that I didn’t want to ever have to answer.

“Well, kiddo, you know how I don’t like bananas?” Hange asked, leaning down to Furlan’s eye-level. He nodded his head. “Well, your dad just doesn’t like his birthday. He never has the whole time I’ve known him.” She finished, patting Furlan on the head and standing back up to her full height.

“Just get him the gloves so he can stop complaining about the hole in the pinkie finger.” I laughed after a brief moment of pause.

After much complaining from Hange, we managed to buy the gloves and head back to the agreed meeting spot.

Levi and Erwin stood next to one of the pillars by the makeshift ‘North Pole’, Erwin towering over Levi as usual.

“Daddy!” Furlan called as he let go of my hand and ran into his father’s arms.

“Are you excited to meet Santa bud?” Levi asked our son who beamed up at him, nodding his head frantically.

I took Furlan’s hand and led him over to the queue where he was to wait until it was his turn to sit on Santa’s lap.

The line went down quickly as each child took their turn to make their wish to Santa.

Suddenly, it was Furlan’s turn.

He walked up to Santa with a big smile on his face and giggled as Santa lifted him up onto his lap. I rejoined Levi and the others by the pillar.

“So, young man, what’s your name?” Santa asked Furlan.

“Furlan Ackerman!” He exclaimed with excitement, making Santa laugh.

“And what would you, Furlan Ackerman, like for Christmas?” He asked.

Furlan thought for a moment before answering.

“well… I have tow wishes.” He said timidly.

“Two!” Santa exclaimed. “Well, I suppose since you have been such a good boy this year, I can grant you two wishes.” Furlan smiled before answering.

“My Daddy’s birthday is on Christmas, but he doesn’t like his birthday, and I think that’s sad. So my first wish is that my Daddy likes his birthday again so we can all have fun and he can get even more presents!” I could feel Levi tense ever so slightly beside me.

“I see.” Santa paused for a second. “And what about your second wish?”

“I wish that my birthday was Christmas too, so that my Daddy and I can share a party and get more presents too!” Furlan exclaimed with excitement.

“Well.” Santa began. “I can’t change your birthday, but I’ll see if I can do anything about your father enjoying his birthday.”

Furlan beamed with joy at Santa’s words.

“Take this for yourself.” Santa held out a small wrapped package to Furlan, “ And take this for your father.”

Furlan took both gifts, thanked Santa before hurrying back to where we all waited beside the pillar.

As soon as he reached us, Furlan handed Levi the gift that Santa had given him.

“Open it.” Furlan demanded, sounding exactly like his father.

Levi hesitantly peeled back the red wrapping paper to reveal a small keyring with two wings on them. One of them blue, and the other white. It was an insignificant little keyring, but for some reason, it made Levi begin to tear up.

Then it hit you. Levi didn’t hate the idea of his birthday anymore, because he had his own family to re-write the past with.

Furlan’s wish to the mall Santa, made Levi realise how loved he truly was.

And that small, cheap keyring was a symbol of the love from a son to his father, which Levi would treasure forever.

[tarnishedxknight]

Drace could see the multitudes of thoughts racing through the boy's mind, the layers of emotions he was trying so hard not to show. The distress, the betryal, the anger, the sadness, the confusion... and the trauma. They had traumatized him with this, she was forced to realize. Not intentionally, of course, and the alternative would have been far worse, but... in the innocent and rather linear mind of a child, it was betrayal, plain and simple. The methods and the motivations be damned, it was betrayal.

She understood this, and so she she would take his slings and arrows in stride. After all, when it came right down to the heart of things, Larsa's survival was paramount. Her own feelings, her relationship with him, was secondary. Perhaps it was not what she wanted, but it was the bare reality of things. Overall, though, she thought it was good that this was coming out now. It was safer now, for the threat his illegitimacy might have brought him was nonexistent in this time, and he was already dealing with so much. To let him fully recover and then hit him again might have done more damage than to get so much of this out of the way early on.

She only wished that it would not cost Gabranth his relationship with his son. Drace could take Larsa's emotional blows, the lashing out of an injured child, but Gabranth... His heart would break and his self-loathing would be violently tossed into unforgiving and extreme waters, like a ship made of rotted planks. Against Larsa's wrath and rejection, Gabranth had little defense, and Drace was well aware of that. She cared not how much this hurt her, no. Her priorities were protecting Gabranth and Larsa, though their needs be vastly different at present.

When Larsa said he had no questions, Drace was unwavering. "You do, my lord. Or in time, you will. 'Tis only that you are not yet ready to put them to words. That is understandable." She was quiet for a while, and then, "Do you wish to remain here for a time, or would you prefer that I escort you to your quarters?" Some, in times of crisis, preferred their solitude, while others preferred not to be alone. In this moment, she was not quite certain where Larsa's head was at, but she did know that she was not about to force her company on him, or attempt to pry his thoughts out of him, if he did not wish it of her.

Larsa did not expect to be unfrozen at all, let alone in the future. When he had snuck upon Gabranth's ship set for Pharos he did it to ensure the peace would be possible. The last thing he remembered was running towards fallen Gabranth and then... Light. (Marvel AU) - tarnishedxjudgement

@tarnishedxjudgement

Noah didn't have the same abilities and resources in this time period with which to inform himself of anything and everything that was going on around him. He was in the dark, most of the time, unless directly informed of things, a condition he hated. Being at the mercy of others he neither knew nor trusted for information was not a position he usually found himself in.

It was the reason he hadn't known about Drace being found after him until she was brought one day to the training compound. Inexplicably, after executing her in his own timeline, here she was again, seemingly from another. The entire experience was wholly jarring, but not nearly as jarring as losing his only son.

So often had Noah thought of Larsa in the months following his revival in this strange time. Thoughts invaded his peace, his sleep, his ability to function, until he found himself so erratic and unhinged that he did not recognize himself anymore. Even Drace found it difficult to comfort him, and she had always been a master of that feat. There was no closure to be had, no second chances, no going back... and that knowledge was eating Noah alive from the inside out.

But once again, information had been kept from him, and yet another arrival from Ivalice to the Avengers compound was neither expected nor necessarily wanted. Would it be another Dalmascan? Gods forbid a Rozarrian. And the way the people of this time seemed to think that all Ivalicians got along and would be happy to see each other was beyond irritating to him. Nevertheless, when he was specifically summoned to greet this newcomer, Noah begrudgingly left his quarters to do so.

What he saw... stopped him dead in his tracks. Within seconds, his expression betrayed him, and within a few more, he was on his knees, his legs giving way in disbelief of the sight that lay before him. It was little Lord Larsa, looking just as he did when last Noah laid eyes on him, perfect as can be.

He knew he should say something, but words betrayed him as well as his own legs had. Instead, he merely stared, the absence of his helm serving to display to the boy all the shock, confusion, and relief at seeing him standing there. Finally, he forced out the only two words he felt he could say without falling apart.

"My lord..."

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 19th december, 2022 ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

this was my view the first time i listened to arctic monkeys. i was sitting in a parked car in the middle of a downpour, waiting for a friend who was at an appointment. i had an hour to kill, and i didn't feel like reading my book. i scrolled restlessly through my spotify library, and, on a whim, decided to listen to 505. it'd been on my playlist of 'to listen to' forever, but for some reason i'd never felt drawn to it until that particular afternoon. i pressed play, and when the song finished i pressed play again. and again. and again. i had goosebumps and my heart was full of something music hadn't evoked in me for a very long time.

i found the 'essential arctic monkeys' playlist and listened to everything i could, suddenly wishing that i had more than an hour, that my friend's appointment would go on and on so that i could stay here in this magical little bubble forever, feeling my heart opening itself up to something brand new and yet hearing parts of myself i'd known forever in the words, like they were somehow waiting for me to come and find them. it felt like someone had switched on a light. like something had come in and reignited a spark i didn't know i'd lost, and i was suddenly glowing with it. nothing had ever spoken to my creativity in the same way; after a long time squashing or trying to reshape it, i could feel it coming to life again, feel it being spoken to so vividly by the music it was as though they were having a direct conversation.

i love a lot of bands and a lot of music, but i've never fallen in love with any music as quickly or as deeply as i did with arctic monkeys. i don't think there's any other band that i've had such a profound first listening experience with, where i remember exactly where i was and how it felt. but the memory of listening to 505 and crying lightning and don't sit down 'cause i've moved your chair and arabella in that parked car, watching the rain slide down the glass and smudge the dusk, is something i know i'll remember forever. i could *feel* my world shifting on its axis, and, looking back, that instinct was totally spot on. completely out of the blue and in a way i never expected, arctic monkeys reunited me with my creativity in a way i'd needed for years. within days of listening to them for the first time, i'd started writing my novel, and a couple of months down the line i'd written over 40k. it was the most i'd written in years, and that's not even to mention the fanfic that rapidly became the most fun and fulfilling escapism i'd discovered in a long time. i felt myself seeing and connecting with the world around me in a brand new way that felt exciting and vivid, strange and beautiful and full of subtle, unnoticed meaning. it felt as though i had suddenly been given permission to write the world the way i experienced it, rather than trying to capture on paper what i thought other people wanted it to be.

as if all that wasn't enough, their music has also allowed me to connect with some incredibly special people and make wonderful friends both here and in real life.

it's truly hard to put into words the profound and unexpected impact this band has had on my life and just how much solace their music brings me, but at the very least i wanted to recognise that by acknowledging the anniversary of the first day i listened to them. it's a wonderful reminder of how the smallest action can change your life, and how those changes you need can find their way to you in ways you'd never have foreseen. i will be forever grateful to the serendipity of boredom and spotify playlists on that rainy afternoon in december 💖

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Little Darling

Chapter 9 - Made a promise to be kept

It's 1997, and Elvis is still alive and well. He quit music in 1972 after a successful world tour, and now he runs Presley Studios - teaching people karate across America. His daughter and grandchildren are regular visitors at Graceland, and when he’s in Memphis he likes to do a little teaching. His life is quieter now, though. Most of the Mafia have gone - going to live their own lives - and after his divorce from his second wife, Elvis is sworn off women for good. Will a Welsh girl with a wicked sense of humour be the one to make him break his promise to himself not to fall in love again?

Need to catch up? Go here.

Pairing: Old Man!Elvis x OC - Tegan, a Welsh girl he meets at karate.

Word count: 3.2K

TWs: Illness, self-esteem issues, discussion of spanking, handjob/masturbation, voyeurism, suggestion of ass play, possessive kink.

Tegan spends the day at work feeling gradually more and more ill, so she decides to pick up a few things on her way home in case she can’t get out to get them the next day. It’s probably just a cold she picked up from the kids at the weekend, but she doesn’t want to have to drag herself out of bed and look for cough medicine if it’s worse than that. As she gets out of the car she suddenly remembers that Elvis basically lives in her apartment right now, and she could send him out to get things. Part of her wonders what on earth he’d come back with, but she also realises she’s been on her own for so long she’s forgotten what it’s like to rely on someone else.

Elvis fusses her and tries to insist on her resting, but she’s too worried about what kind of dinner he’ll cook without her help, so she tells him she doesn’t feel that bad. And she doesn’t, not really. Not until she tries to sleep. They lie down together as usual and she lets her mind drift off, but her thoughts stop making sense. It’s as if she’s put the words in a blender and then poured them out, and all the while she’s sweating and starting to wonder if her legs belong to her or have been swapped out for someone else’s. Eventually she tosses and turns herself fully awake, body hot and arms outside of the duvet freezing cold, sweat dampening the hair at the back of her head. 

“Queenie?” Elvis whispers. He looks at the digital clock by the bed. 2.30am. He’s been awake this whole time, watching her thrash about in her sleep and listening to the odd random word she’d mumbled. 

She rolls over and looks up into his concerned face. “Elvis, I’m sick.”

He strokes her forehead gently. “I can see that, baby.”

She closes her eyes again and groans. He presses a little kiss to her forehead now, carefully moving her sweaty hair out of her face. 

“Try ‘an go back ta sleep, honey.”

She groans again. “I’ll try.”

She closes her eyes but Elvis feels like a furnace next to her, he’s making it even hotter in the bed that already seems like it might be on fire. Then she hears him start to sing. 

Forever, my darling / Our love will be true / Always and forever / I'll love only you / Just promise me, darling / Your love in return / May this fire in my soul, dear / Forever burn

Her mouth curls into a smile and she opens her eyes again. 

“That’s cute.”

“Mmmm. I’m trying ta sing ya ta sleep.”

She giggles, putting her hand on his cheek. “Oh ‘raur. Don’t take this the wrong way but… you’re going to keep me awake if you keep doing that.”

Elvis immediately looks hurt and she wishes she could take it back. “Hm. Forget it then.” He flops onto his back, sighing loudly. He doesn’t mind staying up late, in fact he kind of enjoys it, but he wants to be asleep right now. When you’re asleep you can’t feel rejected.

“‘Raur.” Tegan rolls onto her side, leaning over him to look into his face and seeing his eyes firmly shut. “I’m sorry. I love your singing.” She nuzzles his cheek. “I just don’t find it very sleep-inducing.”

He grumbles again. 

“You could sing to me when I feel better. I’d like that.” She’s still feeling a bit delirious from the fever and so she puts her head on his chest and says, “I’d really like that, Elvis.”

“Why’s ‘at then?” He huffs. 

She giggles into his pyjama top. “‘Cause I’d find it a turn on.”

His lips curl into a smile at the revelation and he starts singing again, right in her ear.

My heart's at your command, dear / To keep, love, and to hold / Making you happy's my desire / Keeping you is my goal

She giggles even more. “Stop it! I’m sick!”

“Alright then. Try ‘an sleep. I won’t sing this time.”

She props herself back up on her elbow again. “You’re making the bed kind of hot…” She pulls an awkward face, knowing he won’t like this either. 

He sighs deeply. “First ya won’t let me sing ya ta sleep, now ya want me on the couch.”

“I’m sorry. But you won’t sleep well with me here either.”

He curls a stray piece of hair back behind her ear. “This’d be a damned sight easier if we were at Graceland.”

“But I like my apartment. And you like my apartment. Don’t you?”

“Hmmm. Yeah. But not when I have ta sleep on the couch. I’m an old man, my back can’t take it.”

Tegan doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t want him to be uncomfortable, but she can’t see how she’s going to sleep at all with him in the bed. 

He shakes his head and sits up. “But I’ll go. I’ll see ya in the mornin’ baby.”

***

When Tegan doesn’t appear at the usual time, Elvis picks up the phone and calls her work. He causes quite a kerfuffle, being Elvis Presley and everything, but it does mean that they believe him when he says he’s not sure if she’ll be in for the rest of the week. He pads around the kitchen making coffee and rummaging around in the cupboards for anything else she might want. When he’s finished he puts it all on a tray and then sets it down on the side, slowly pushing her bedroom door open and peering inside. 

“Honey?” He says softly, into the semi-darkness. 

Tegan grumbles. She’d woken up a while ago, but she didn’t really want to move. She still doesn’t want to move now, so she burrows further into the bedding. Elvis walks around the bed and gets in next to her, gently putting an arm over her. She grumbles again. 

“I made ya coffee,” he murmurs into her hair. 

“Thanks. I feel like my throat’s full of broken glass.”

Elvis pulls her against him, kissing the top of her head. “Ya want it now?”

“Please.”

He gives her another kiss and then gets up again, fetching the tray and bringing it in. She sits up slowly, pulling pillows behind her to prop her up and looking with some interest at the contents of the tray. 

“I thought you were just bringing coffee?”

Elvis puts it down on her lap. “Well I thought these might help.”

Tegan looks at the rest of the contents of the tray in bewilderment. There’s painkillers, which make sense, next to two cups of steaming coffee. So far, so good. But then there’s a box of crackers, a bottle of gatorade (which she’s quite sure she didn’t buy, so she’s confused as to what it’s doing in her apartment) three or four candy bars (which, again, she didn’t buy) and a packet of lemsip. Just, on its own. Without hot water or a cup. She rubs her forehead in confusion and then just giggles. 

“What?”

She hands him his coffee and takes hers, setting the tray down on the bed between them. Coughing a little, she takes a few sips of her drink to try and make her throat feel a bit better before replying. 

“I bought a load of cough drops and things at the shops yesterday,” she explains. “They’re in the cupboard over the sink.” 

“Oh,” he sighs. He didn’t sleep well on the couch at all, and he’s starting to feel a little like everything he does at the moment is wrong. “Ya want those?”

She takes another sip of coffee. “In a bit.”

He huffs again. She raises an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”

“Everythin’ I do fer ya, ya don’t like.”

Tegan sighs, and then she puts her head on his shoulder. “That’s not true. This coffee is actually alright.”

She means to make him laugh but he just groans, moving her off him and getting up again. 

“I’m no good at this.” 

She watches in disbelief as he walks back out of the room again. “Elvis!” She calls after him, then bursts into a fresh round of coughing. “‘Raur?” 

When she sees he’s not coming back, she decides to get up, slowly pulling on panties and an old Elvis sweater she found the other day in the back of her closet. She pushes on slippers and then pads out of the room, carrying her coffee. He’s always telling her off for wandering about the place naked, so she hopes this will do. She coughs a bit more and sniffs, finding him sat on the couch watching MTV. Wandering over to the cupboard she grabs a handful of cough drops, Vicks and tissues, and then walks over to the couch. Looking away from the TV for a moment, he’s greeted by the sight of his girlfriend walking around in a sweater with his name on it and a pair of boxer-style panties. It’s hard to stay mad. 

“Where’d this come from?” He asks, tugging at her sleeve as she sits down next to him. 

“Found it in my closet. I think I must’ve bought it when I was a teenager. I’m amazed it still fits, but it was pretty baggy on me back then.”

“I like it,” he announces, because he really does. “No panties with my name on?”

She smirks. “I bet I could find some.”

He pats his thigh. “C’mon. Lap.”

Elvis has got in the habit of telling her to get onto his lap if she doesn’t do it of her own accord, and although it makes her feel a little bit like a pet dog, she does kind of like it. And she likes cuddling up with him like this anyway. So she sits sideways on his lap so she can still watch the TV, his arm firmly around her. She sneezes. 

“I’m gonna give you this, if you keep cuddling up to me all the time.”

Elvis huffs again. “Ya want me ta go? I’ll just go.” He lets go of her so she can get up if she wants. 

“I didn’t say that, ‘raur.” She cuddles into him more, her fingers playing with the buttons on his pyjama top. “I just don’t want you to get sick too. I like you being here. I’d be lonely without you.” 

“Hmmm. Wouldn’t want ya ta be lonely.”

His arm returns to its previous position, but he still feels uncomfortable. He’s a protector, but he’s not much of a caregiver, and he feels like he ought to be. After having a child, he thinks he should be better at knowing what to do when someone is sick, but he and Cilla had always sort of farmed that out to other people. 

“I was only teasing, earlier, you know?” She says after they’ve been sitting there quietly for a while, watching music videos. 

“Should’ve known,” Elvis mutters. “Should be good at looking after sick people by now.”

Tegan shifts to look into his eyes, which stare back, full of sadness. “You couldn’t know what was in my cupboards, I didn’t tell you. But you could’ve just asked what I wanted. That might’ve been easier.”

“Oh. I suppose so.”

“It’s cute though. How much you try.”

He huffs. “Don’t wanna be cute.”

“That’s tough really, isn’t it? Because you are so cute,” she teases, rubbing her nose against his. 

“Ya do really emasculate me sometimes, honey. Callin’ me pretty an’ cute. Next thing I know you’ll be plaiting my hair an’ puttin’ on make-up.”

Tegan giggles. “You put make-up on yourself in the 50s, didn’t you? Come to think of it, in the 60s and 70s too, blodyn.”

“What are ya callin’ me now?”

She bites her lip. “Blodyn. It’s a term of endearment, but literally it means flower.”

“Flower?!” He rages for a second, and then laughs. “Yer really callin’ me flower. Aha. I see.”

“Yeah I am. My little blodyn, fy blodyn bach, taking care of me while I’m sick.”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “If ya weren’t sick, ya’d be gettin’ a spankin’ for this…”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

He gives her a quick hard slap to the side of her thigh, making her yelp, and then kisses her gently on the lips. “I’ll put it on the list of things ta do when you’re well again. Sing ta ya and then spank the livin’ daylights outta ya.”

***

Tegan gets worse over the next few days, and spends them mainly in bed, with Elvis ferrying hot drinks and soup back and forth. Around day four he starts to get sick too, and although he's grumpy about it he only really gets a sniffle and a bit of a cough for a day or two. Tegan is still exhausted a week later, but she drags herself out of bed to sit on the couch. 

“Feelin’ any better, baby?” Elvis asks, pulling her onto his lap as usual and arranging a blanket around her. 

“Hmmm. Just tired.” Tegan’s head flops against his chest. 

“Can I get ya anything? Ya hungry?”

“Yeah, I am actually. Nothing in the apartment worth eating though.”

“Why don't I go out and get us a little breakfast, baby?”

She sits up and strokes his cheek lovingly. “That would be great if you feel OK?” She puts her hand on his forehead to check his temperature, worrying that he's more ill than he's letting on. 

“I feel fine, baby. Jus’ sniffin’ a bit s’all.”

“Don't know how you've got away with that but I shouldn't complain. Don't want to lose my nursemaid.”

Elvis shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “What have I told ya about that? ‘M not a nursemaid.”

Tegan giggles. “Sorry. You're doing such a good job of taking care of me, though.”

He puffs up with pride. “I am?”

“Yes!” She kisses him on the lips. “I don't know what I'd have done without you.”

He grins, pleased to feel useful for a change. “Alright then. You stay there and keep warm and I’ll go and get us some breakfast.”

Tegan chuckles to herself about staying warm in the middle of September in Memphis, but she doesn't say anything. It's sweet of him to worry. As she waits for him to come back, she thinks about how sweet he's been this whole week. It was obvious not being able to take care of her instinctively bothered him, but he'd taken her advice and actually asked what she wanted and by now he was pretty good at feeding her and bringing her medicine. He'd even got in the shower with her a couple of times and helped her wash when she'd been too tired to want to do it on her own. 

***

After breakfast, Elvis watches Tegan take the plates from the couch into the kitchen. She’s still only wearing panties and that old sweater, and he feels his body react to the sight of her ass jiggling a little as it makes its way around the apartment. It’s happened the past couple of mornings, but he’s done his best to ignore Little Elvis and concentrate on looking after Tegan. This morning, though, he’s really making himself known and Elvis isn’t sure he’s going to be able to ignore him. 

Tegan’s too tired to notice the look on his face, flopping back down next to him and putting her legs up on his lap.

“Honey, ya can’t keep wanderin’ about the place like this,” he tells her. 

“Hmmm? Why?” 

He takes her hand and puts it on his now fully-hard dick. She moves her head and her eyes go wide. 

“Oh.” She doesn’t know what else to say. She doesn’t want to tell him to sort himself out, but she’s not sure she has the energy to do anything for him either. Plus she’s not exactly feeling that sexy right now.  

“I-it’s okay,” he stutters. “I…uh… I can sort myself out.”

Tegan shakes her head and squeezes him. “No, I wanna help.”

“Honey, you’re still sick.”

She sighs, her head back on his shoulder. “Well, at least let me watch then.”

She hears him cough awkwardly, as if he’s trying to swallow down something particularly difficult. 

“W-watch?”

“Mmmm. Y’know. You jerk yourself and I’ll… watch.”

“I think I might feel a bit self-conscious, baby.”

“Why? I’ve seen your dick before. And, spoiler alert, I know what happens at the end.”

She hears a grumbling deep in his throat. “I’ve never… done that before. In front of someone.”

“Oh. Well I promise I’d enjoy it.”

He moves his head and shoulder so that she has to look at him. “Would ya?”

She nods. “Here. Why don’t I help you?” 

Reaching down to undo the garish belt he’s wearing, she unzips his pants. He shuffles around to make it easier for her to release Little Elvis from his boxers, then moans softly as she pumps him up and down a couple of times. Letting go, she takes his hand from where it’s resting on his thigh and guides it towards his dick. He takes over stroking himself, enjoying the feeling of the kisses she starts to press to his neck and ear. His other hand reaches around to her ass, grabbing a handful and sighing softly to himself. She bites her lip, thinking about how else she can help him.

“You want me to do this?” She asks, slipping her hand in his boxers to massage his balls. 

He groans. “Yes please.”

She squeezes them gently a few times, and then starts to get other ideas. One of her fingers rubs the skin just below them, and he almost jumps. 

“Honey!”

She giggles. “No?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“I swear you’re supposed ta be sick.”

She goes back to massaging, her lips pressing against his. “I am. I just thought you might like a little assistance.”

He kisses her and then pulls back again. “I don’t need yer finger up my asshole.”

Tegan can’t help herself, bursting out laughing, pulling her hand away from him to slap her thigh in amusement. 

“It wasn’t your arsehole, cariad. It was your taint.”

Elvis tilts his head to one side and huffs out a sigh. “Yer on very thin ice, y’know that? Even sick girls can get a spanking.”

She giggles, cuddling into him and kissing his collarbone. “Sorry, ‘raur. Please carry on. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

She doesn’t really, they hang around his neck as he kisses her, run over his chest, even wrap around his own hand to help him as he gets closer to release. But she does resist the temptation to put them in his boxers again. At least for now. 

“Baby, I’m gonna cum,” he breathes in her ear, his lips and teeth finding the lobe. 

“Let me see,” she replies, looking down as he kisses her neck and makes a mess of his hand and pants. 

“Oh fuck. You do like me wandering around in these panties.”

“Mmmm.”

They sit there for a while longer, until he decides he has to get cleaned up. 

“You enjoy that?” She calls after him, as he walks towards the bathroom. 

He turns and smiles. “More ‘an I thought I would.” He fixes her with an intense stare. “But not as much as I’d enjoy fucking that pussy a mine, baby. Hurry up and get well.”

***

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