#so if I schedule it while I’m gone you all need to promise to behave

[megaera-of-pigeon]

High key forgot I’d scheduled the league lineups to post today asdchksksjchhd well ok welcome to March.

[maybestoryideas]

Babysitting Skid & Pump w/ Agoti and Tabi

How They Met

In a momentary lapse of your infinite wisdom and judgement, you accidentally scheduled to meet up with Agoti and Tabi on the same day you offered to watch over the Skid and Pump for Lila. Apparently she had to leave town for the day, and the kids had been getting in more trouble than usual.

You were getting ready to leave for Lila’s, only to be met with a screen demon and floating skull when you opened your front door.

After explaining the situation to them, you promised to hang out some other day, when you wouldn’t be busy. Somehow, Agoti interpreted this as an invitation to join you and help babysit, which is the exact opposite of what you were implying.

You were more than a little worried about Skid and Pump meeting your friends. The kids could be quite the handful sometimes, and your friends were prone to… outbursts.

“Hey, Tabi! I didn’t know you had a little brother.”

“Shut the fu-“

“Language.”

When Skid and Pump see Agoti and Tabi, they’re instantly attached.

“Skid, Pump, these are my friends, and they were just leaving.”

“I like your spooky masks!”

“Um, thanks… Why are you two wearing costumes?”

“It is the spooky month!”

“It’s 90 degrees outside.”

“Wanna see something really cool?”

Agoti then proceeds to get down on the sidewalk and start doing push-ups with his tongue. Skid and Pump are instantly impressed.

“Your spooky friend is so cool!”

“They think I’m cool. Whaddya say about that?”

“I say you just licked a public sidewalk and probably need to go to a hospital.”

“Can Agoti and Tabi hang out with us today? Please?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure they have very important adult things to do and need to get going.”

“Not really.”

“Dang-it.”

“Please???”

Skid, Pump, AND Agoti are at your legs, staring up at you with big begging eyes. Tabi is standing behind them with secondhand embarrassment.

“F-Fine!”

“Yay!”

Agoti is constantly bragging and being a show-off for the kids; he’s playing it up more than normal. Meanwhile Tabi’s being a lot more chill, vaguely answering any questions the kids have about him.

“You’re so good a video games!”

“Yeah, I’m a bit of a celebrity. I actually got so famous that these jerks tried to get rid of me. Obviously it didn’t work, though, and blah blah bla-blah blah…”

“Are you a ghost?”

“My body’s invisible. It’s a long story.”

Skid and Pump try to teach them the Spooky Dance. Emphasis on ‘try’.

“How are you moving your arms that quickly?!”

“I feel like an idiot.”

Meanwhile, you’re recording all of it on your phone. Haha! Blackmail.

You spent the day playing video games, watching TV, and hanging around the house.

So, at the end of the day, it wasn’t a total disaster.

Together

After Agoti and Tabi showed that they can act like decent people in front of kids, you agreed to let them join you whenever you’re babysitting.

You thought having three adults keeping track of two kids would make things easier, but they somehow manage to get into more trouble between the four of them.

“You’re supposed to the mature ones! How do you manage to cause this much trouble? On accident?!”

You always end up having to be the ‘Mom-friend’, but it rarely does any good.

“Let’s go to the spooky forest.”

“Yeah! Let’s go!”

“Let’s… not?”

“Let’s put it to a vote! Who wants to go into the cool spooky, haunted, abandoned forest?”

[Three hands immediately go up, followed by a fourth]

“And who wants to stay home and be boring?”

[One awkward hand goes up]

To be fair, Tabi at least tries to be a responsible adult, so it balances out Agoti’s chaotic enabling.

They once took everyone to Zardy’s maze. Never. Ever. Again.

“You’re going to get us lost, just like last time!”

“That was your fault! I knew exactly where we were going, but you kept taking us in the wrong direction!”

“Guys, we haven’t even gone into the maze yet. Look, the sign’s right behind yo-”

*angry SEGA Genesis and angry Russian noises intensify*

You decided to take Skid and Pump through the maze, and just left the two screaming outside the entrance. When you finally got to the end, they were still screaming. Not at each other, but at a scarecrow.

They’re a lot more well-behaved when you’re just hanging around town. Probably because otherwise they’d have to deal with police and witnesses.

If any shady creeps approach your group, Agoti and Tabi will stand right behind Skid and Pump, silently threatening until they back off.

They also do it whenever the Hatzgang starts picking on Skid and Pump, though they tone it down since Roy and his friends are still teenagers.

“Hey kid. You’re not causing trouble for my friends here, right?”

“N-No, sir! We’re just… kidding around. Oh God, please don’t kill me!”

For one Halloween, Skid and Pump dressed up as Tabi and Agoti.

“Aw! You two are look so cool and spooky!”

“How come you never call us cool and spooky?”

“Skid and Pump are cute kids. You two are public menaces.”

You frequently visit the candy store at the end of the day. On the off chance that there’s something the kids want but can’t get, Agoti will pay for it or bribe Kevin to look the other way. Sometimes it doesn’t work and then Tabi will threaten to demolish the store. That always works. You’ve started forcing them to wait outside the store while you buy everything yourself.

Even though Agoti and Tabi’s chaotic personalities feed into Skid and Pump’s mischievous behavior, you can tell that they genuinely like the kids, and you’re happy they get along well. Sometimes.

“Pump, where did you learn that word?”

“I heard Agoti shouting it when he was playing video games.”

“I thought so.”

Meanwhile

“Hm…”

“What’s up, dude?”

“I don’t why, but I think [Name’s] gonna kick my ass tomorrow.”

(Thanks for reading! Please give me things to write about?)

[jungshookz]

🧦 stocking stuffers: yoongi’s being annoying as per usual

stocking stuffers are basically the holiday equivalent of teeny tidbits :D i just wanted to give you guys a little something to tide you over while you’re waiting for the second drabble! also yes that is a sock emoji there was no stocking emoji sUE ME 

this started off at five hundred words and quickly spiralled into two thousand words but it’s not good enough to stand alone as a proper drabble so i’m counting it as a puny stocking stuffer drabble

pairing; demon!yoongi x y/n

genre; sfw for the most part but there are some suggestive themes because this is demon!yoongi after all <3 

what to expect; “ooh, i love it when you get mouthy with me... it turns me on.” 

wordcount; 2.3k

                                      »»————-　🎄   ————-««

“i don’t even know why we’re decorating this stupid thing. we’re going to be throwing it out by the end of the month.” yoongi grumbles, tossing a handful of fake snow onto the tree a little too aggressively before shoving his hand back into the bag

this sucks

when he woke up this morning you told him that you guys would be spending the entire day decorating the apartment for christmas and his morning wood immediately deflated

in fact he’s pretty sure his penis might’ve shrivelled up and died at your words

it doesn’t make any sense

you’re like.,., 25% demon!

you’re supposed to hate christmas because it’s literally the day of christ, but here you are, wearing what has to be the ugliest sweater he’s ever seen in his entire life (it lights up. what kind of a sweater lights up?!) while happily hanging baubles on this poor tree that should be out in nature and definitely not in this apartment  

“oh, cut it out, you grouch.” you scowl playfully, already fully aware as to why yoongi’s so grumpy today, “decorating is fun! and our presents are going to look so pretty under the tree-”

“y/n?” jungkook pokes his head out from the kitchen and you turn to look at him, “i’m gonna need you to help out with the gingerbread house. construction isn’t going great. there’s frosting everywhere and i ate most of the m&ms. and one of the gingerbread men is missing a head because i got hungry.”

“are you seri- i asked you to do one thing, kook-” you frown, jungkook smiling sheepishly before not so subtly popping an m&m into his mouth, “get back in the kitchen! i’ll join you in a second.”

jungkook pops back into the kitchen and you let out a hopeless little sigh before slowly turning to look at yoongi 

he pauses right as he’s about to sprinkle some more snow onto the branches and narrows his eyes at you, “…why are you looking at me like that?”

“will you finish decorating the tree while i help jungkook?” you turn to look at yoongi before pushing your bottom lip out in a pleading little pout, “please?” 

“what?? no way!” yoongi scowls, immediately dropping the bag of fake snow onto the floor with a thump, “the only reason why i agreed to do this was because it’s more bearable when we do it together- i’m not decorating this tree alone, that’s just pathetic-”

“aw, c’mon-”

“i’ll just wait for you to finish with the gingerbread house and then we’ll continue with the tree-”

“but we have to follow my schedule!” you whine, grabbing your notepad off the couch before pointing at the next thing on your list, “see? 1:00 to 2:00 - decorate the tree. 2:00 to 2:30 - hang the lights out on the balcony- and it’s already 1:30, yoon-”

“for the love of-” yoongi huffs, “okay, fine! fine, i’ll- i’ll decorate the damn tree alone.” yoongi snatches the box of baubles from you but the faintest of smiles twitches at his mouth when you lean in to squish an appreciative kiss to his cheek

the thought of completely burning the tree down while you’re gone briefly flits through his mind but he squashes that thought quickly

he’ll be good for you 

he can behave!

                                     »»————-　🎄   ————-««

“don’t eat the gum drops, i’ll be right-” you step out of the kitchen and your eyes widen to the size of saucers when you see yoongi floating in mid-air, carefully wrapping the christmas lights around the tree, “yoongi!” you hiss quietly, hurrying over to him before reaching up and wrapping your fingers around his ankle, “yoongi, what the hell are you doing-?!”

“i’m wrapping the damn tree in these lights and we don’t have a ladder-” yoongi wobbles a little when you give him another harsh yank and he glances down to see you looking warily at the kitchen door

heh

you’re... anxious.

he can feel wafting it in the air and it smells so good

maybe he can have a little bit of fun with this…

“so use a chair or something! yoongi, i thought we agreed that if jungkook was here that you wouldn’t do anything non-humany-!” you jump when yoongi suddenly drops the pile of lights into your arms before lying back and folding his arms behind his head

oh god

he’s not going to get down anytime soon

also the only reason why you haven’t told jungkook about the fact that yoongi is most definitely not from this world is because he would pass out from complete and utter petrification

you don’t know how he’s going to be able to handle a spawn of satan when the man is scared of fruit flies!!!!

you’re planning to keep everything a secret until the day you die

(you’re also hoping that the day you pop one of yoongi’s babies out that it doesn’t come out with tiny red horns on its head because you feel like jungkook wouldn’t take that very lightly)

“down. now!” you snap, bending down to set the lights down on the ground so you can go and follow yoongi, “i’m serious, yoongi!” 

“oh, relax.” yoongi sighs, “he’s in the kitchen, we’re in the living room…” you frown disapprovingly when he tilts his head back so that his face is right in front of yours before flashing you a grin, “now, why don’t you wipe that frown off your face and give me a kiss?” he purses his lips obnoxiously and squawks when you shovE your face into his hand

hey!

rude!!

“i’m not going to give you anything until you get down-”

“aw, but decorating the apartment would be so much easier if you just let me do my thing!” yoongi pushes himself all the way up so that he’s next to the ceiling fan, “i can even do some much needed dusting while i’m up here!”

“min yoongi, if you don’t get down right now-” you hop up onto the couch and reach up to grab his foot onLY for yoongi to pull his legs up and cross them, “you know exactly what you’re doing, you sadistic freak-”

“ooh, i love it when you get mouthy with me,” yoongi wiggles his eyebrows, chuckling to himself when you start hopping up and down to try to get closer to him, “it turns me on.”

“that means nothing to me because you get turned on by everything-” you grumble, your fingers barely brushing over his ankle as you keep trying to grab him, “like that one time you were watching me eat ice cream-”

“uhhhh, excuse me-” yoongi scoffs, rolling his eyes, “there was white cream dripping down your chin. obviously i got turned on-”

“hey, if you come down now, i promise to do that thing that you said you wanted to do…” you offer, looking up at yoongi with wide eyes before clasping your hands together, “c’mon… isn’t that a good deal?”

yoongi shakes his head and sticks his tongue out at you, “nice try, you scammer. i’m not falling for that again-”

your shoulders immediately drop and you watch helplessly as he floats over so that he’s near the kitchen door

you really wished that inheriting some of yoongi’s aura gave you the power to float as well

all it gave you was the ability to sometimes make your eyes go black

suRE your stamina in bed has improved significantly and you can keep your engine running from sunset to sunrise but that’s not as cool as FLOATING in mid-air

“do not.” you shoot yoongi a glare when he makes a motion to open the kitchen door

“what if i…” yoongi grins, pretending to knock against the door, “oh, look at your face! you don’t like that, do you? you poor, helpless little thing...” he coos, rolling over onto his back with a laugh

oh god

you haTE THIS

“you know i-” your heart practically drops out of your ass when the door suddenly swinGs open and jungkook steps out with frosting all over his hands

“okay, i know you said not to touch anything, but one of the walls were starting to droop so i thought i’d reinforce it with a little more frosting, buT i squeezed too hard and the bag exploded-”

you swallow thickly when yoongi lowers himself a little all while maintaining strong eye contact with you, propping his chin up on his palm before the corners of his mouth turn up in a grin

you ball your hands into tight fists when yoongi blinks and his pupils turn into thin red slits

great! now his creepy demon eyes are out!

okay

you know what?

it’s fine

relax!

you know he’s taunting you on purpose but it’s not like he’s actually going to do anything-

“DON’T-!” you jump off the couch when yoongi wiggles his fingers directly above jungkook’s head, a couple tendrils of his hair starting to float upwards

“okay, jeez!” jungkook raises both hands in defence before scoffing lightly, “i said i’d offer to help clean up but since you obviously don’t want my help then maybe you can get yoongi to help-“ jungkook pauses, glancing over by the tree, “hey, where’d he go? i heard his voice like a second before i came out-”

“he’s dead!” you blurt out, jungkook’s eyes widening immediately

(improvisation has never been one of your strong suits)

yoongi lies down on his back before crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes, all while floating mere inches above jungkook’s head 

“i mean… he’s… dead-finitely in the washroom.” you correct yourself, trying to hide the complete and utter angeR on your face when yoongi peels open one eye before turning his head and blowing a silent kiss at you, “because he… had to pee. like any other normal human being does when their bladder is full.” 

“that was a very... non-human being way to answer a question.” jungkook snorts, “what’s wrong with you?”

“i just... don’t want you to get your grubby frosting hands anywhere!” you clear your throat, letting out a sheepish chuckle before rushing over to jungkook, “why don’t you start cleaning up and i’ll join you in a sec?”

“but my hands are still covered in frosting-”

“uh-huh, sounds good!” you slap your hands down on jungkook’s shoulders before spinning him around and practically shoVing him back into the kitchen

you close the door before looking up so you can grab yoongi by the collar and pull him-  

?

yoongi is… no longer there. 

the christmas lights on the tree flicker before buzzing out 

okay

so he wants to play games, does he?

“yoongi?” you spin around quickly before walking forwards cautiously, carefully inspecting every inch of the room for any sign of your nightmare of a boyfriend

you jump in surprise when a bauble suddenly falls off the tree and bounces on the floor before rolling over to your feet 

“you think you’re so funny, don’t you?” you mumble, bending down to pick it up before gently placing it down on the coffee table 

i’m fucking hilarious, baby. i like to think that’s part of the reason as to why you love me so much. 

“what the-!” you jolt at the sound of yoongi’s voice suddenly echoing in your head 

the last time he was in your head like this was when you summoned him for the first time which was definitely a while ago 

you forgot how weird it was to hear his voice inside your head

“i certainly don’t love you right now, i can say that for sure.” you grumble, “it’s safe to say that i actually hate you right now-” 

you look really sexy when you’re mad at me. why don’t you meet me in the bathroom for a quickie? jungkook will never know. i’ll even cover your mouth with my hand so he won’t hear anything.

you look over quickly when the door to the guest bathroom suddenly creaks open 

ahA 

“yeah, i’ll meet you in the bathroom... to kick your ass-” you storm over, kicking the door open only to see that there’s no one in there, “and then when i’m done kicking your ass, i’m gonna kick your ass again-”

ooh, are we finally experimenting with pain now? i can definitely get into that. i can use your bobby pins as makeshift nipple clamps. 

“you are infuriating!” you snap, placing your hands on your hips and looking up at the ceiling 

you know that being playful is just part of yoongi’s nature but good GOD 

sometimes you just want to strangle him

and not in the kinky way 

at this point it looks like you’re going to have to pull out what might be the most predictable trick in your book but you’re desperate here

you need to sort this out before jungkook comes out to see you talking to yourself like a crazy person 

yeah, that’s right. keep thinking about how annoying i am and how much that pisses you off. angry sex is super hot. 

“oh yeah?” you stroll towards the middle of the living room, taking your time to do so, “you think so?” 

hell yeah. i want you to be on top, too. i love the view.  

“i’ll do... whatever you want me to do...” you trail off, eyes flickering around the room for any sign of movement, “but if you don’t come out in the next five seconds, it’s just going to be you and your hand for the next five days- oh-!” 

it’s only a second later that you’re suddenly being pummelled into from behind

you definitely would’ve fallen face first onto the floor if it wasn’t for yoongi wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, “finally! there you are-” 

“depriving me of sex during the holidays??” yoongi whines, digging his fingers into your waist, “now look who’s being the asshole-”

see??

oldest trick in the book but it still works like a charm :’) 

christmas with cee 2020 masterlist

[littlefreya]

The Kitten & the Bear - Part 1

Intro: This story is a collab and was written by both @wolvesandhoundshowltogether​ and I. It was born out of a fun role play we have going on. We ended up having so much a fun with this particular idea that we thought we should post it as a 3 part story and share it with the rest!

| Read Part 2  | Read Part 3 |

Summary: After a night of drinking in town get Walter’s bratty wife ends up with pure chaos and the overprotective grumpy husband is having none of her shenanigans. 

Pairing: Detective Walter Marshall x OFC (first person pov) 

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Bratty behaviour, vandalism, dominant overprotectiveness, BDE, husband stalking his wife, sexual innuendo, dirty inappropriate talks, mentions of sex and oral, weed and alcohol usage. Sex in the next parts :D Walter is a Boomer. 

A/N: We didn’t beta it and did transform it from 2nd to 1st person POV, really hoping you guys will enjoy it as we did. Feel free to share your thoughts. 

Title: The Kitten & the Bear

Nothing chilled my heart more than waking up in an empty bed. Walter was already gone, leaving his side of the mattress cold and abandoned. A heavy sigh broke from my lips, I stroked the ghost of the kiss that still tingled on my cheek, knowing he planted it there before heading to work. 

Sadness seeped into my heart as I realised I won't see him today. Our work scheduled conflicted and I have scheduled a "date night" with my girls in the evening. Picking up my phone, I texted him a pouty emoji and then headed to get my day started.

Walter left me on read, which just fuelled the brat in me. When he called during his lunch break, he was taciturn as usual, and most of the call was about his disapproval of us girls going out without at least one male friend or a boyfriend to chaperone.

"Oh my god, Walter, this is not the 50s! Women can leave their house without a husband tagging along!" I grunted and berated him, "stop acting like someone is going to kidnap me!!! I'm an adult woman!" I snapped at him while sitting at the cafe. People sitting around stared quietly as I hung up the phone, and stormed out.

~~~

Walter looked at his mobile phone, shocked. He couldn't even remember the last time someone hung up on him, let along his wife.

"Fucking brat," he muttered as he pocketed it. 

After lunch, he went into the precinct. Since it was flu season and they were having a shortage of uniformed officers, he volunteered to patrol tonight. Assuming he might even be able to check up on me wherever I get to town. Just to keep me safe. That's right. Not from jealousy. Not because I'll be all dolled up and tipsy and every man in the vicinity will ogle me.

~~~

As the evening loomed, I was in dire need of letting loose. Walter had left me incredibly frustrated, acting like a police officer from hell rather than my husband. Going through my closet, I stumbled upon the most outrageous piece of wardrobe: a black strappy thing with corset details at the front. The same one I've worn for our first date which of course ended up with Walter and I dry humping like two horny teenagers at the back of his truck and him eating me out until I came all over his beard 4 times. 

I slapped a dark red lipstick and put on a pair of red "fuck me" pumps before leaving to meet the gals in a new night club that had just opened. I might or might not have a rolled-up joint in my purse.

~~~

Walter was sitting in a patrol vehicle on the opposite side of the street from the new fancy club with translucent walls. We were all sitting beside the window at a small table full of cocktail glasses, but the girls were gesturing toward the dance floor. Walter chose a dark spot on the street to park the car and was wearing a beanie. 

But he didn't need it. He knew I was oblivious to him and also to the men staring at me from 3 different tables. He ground his teeth frustrated when he first noticed that I was wearing that dress. His blood boiled as I was slowly sipping a cocktail with a sexy little pout around the long straw.

"Let's dance!!! I wanna dance!!!" I whined at my friend Keylah, grabbing her wrist and dragging her with me. My posture was slightly unstable after two cocktails and probably not enough food to pad my belly. She followed me to the dance floor while Stephanie remained in her seat, talking to some guy just for the sake of trolling. He'd been hitting on each one of us unsuccessfully. 

After an hour of dancing with Keylah, swaying my ass in ways that didn't leave any imagination to the men lurking, I remembered the little treat I had in my purse and decided we should take a small break to breathe some fresh air. 

I grabbed the girls, and we walked outside.

"Okay, don't you dare mention this to Walter," I warned them as I took the joint out from my purse.

"Daddy Magnum gonna punish you?" Steph teased while I lit the weed. 

"Oh, you have no idea, he gave me shit about seeing you tonight without a male chaperone, like this is Mad Man or something." 

"Woah! Walter is a boomer!!!" Keylah teased, and we all laughed hysterically. 

~~~

Unbeknownst to me, Walter was watching us dance from his patrol car, getting more and more frustrated by the hour. He observed as I gathered both girls and came out on the street, walking a couple of meters away from the entrance. A frown fell on his face as he saw me taking a lighter out from my purse.

"She doesn't even smoke, what the hell?" he fumed. 

His eyes widened when he saw the telltale shape of a joint between my fingers. His mouth was agape as I lit it up and started smoking and passing it around. "What the fuck? Where did she get that?" he muttered incredulously.

'It's fucking illegal in Minnesota, what the fuck? A cop's wife at that!' He thought, rage simmering in his gut.  

The police radio suddenly began buzzing, the sergeant calling on the line. 

"Hey Marshall, Toby came in for the night shift after all. Do you want him to keep you company?" 

'And see Walter's wife going to town on a spliff? No fucking way.' 

"No, Sarge, thanks. It's uh... calm tonight." He frowned from afar. "Nothing but law-abiding citizens," he replied, hoping his sarcasm didn't go through while he was watching the wife of a respected detective drunk and smoking weed in the great outdoors.

"All right" the sarge concluded and cut the line, and Walter put back the radio.

‘Un-fucking-believable.'

~~~

The girls and I fell into a fit of wild giggles, thoroughly buzzed and high at the same time. My skirt rode up my thighs, and I didn't even bother fixing it as the combination of drugs and alcohol made me frivolous and careless. 

"Is Walter such a nerd in bed too? Is he one of those guys who won't even make a sound because they are ashamed of it?" Stephanie asked to which I immediately snorted.

"Walter fucks like a beast from hell," I answered and put off the remains of the joint against the heel of my shoe. 

"I had to go to the gyno at least four times in the past because he was too violent, and trust me, the noise he makes, luckily no one called the police yet…" 

"Jennifer, your husband is the police!" Keylah answered, and we burst into another fit of giggles which then gradually died down. 

The same man who bugged us from before followed us outside, giving us some stares and making a suckling voice with his lips. I snorted at him and told him to fuck off before putting my arms around my girls. 

"This place sucks, let's go grab something to eat from the store, if Walter sees me like this I will NEVER hear the end of it".

~~~

Walter was watching us walk away, still furious about my illicit behaviour. He promised himself that he'd have a serious conversation with me about this tomorrow. He gave us two blocks of a head start and then ignited the engine of the car and made a U-turn, slowly he rolled towards the store and saw us enter. He made another U-turn in front of the store to park across the street. He just hoped that we'll buy some nachos and a coke and then call it a night, and call a cab to go home.

~~~

It was close to 1am. We barged into the store, marching through as if we owned the place. Keylah stopped by the condoms section and threw a bottle of lube in my direction. "Here you go, Jennifer, you gonna need it".

I laughed and threw it back at her, grabbing a bag of chips and a bottle of water. 

"Better fuck his brains before he starts asking where you've been tonight," Stephanie added. 

"Can you girls please behave?" The clerk-lady requested politely, giving us a prudent look. I rolled my eyes at her and then stopped short as I saw a large stuffed grizzly bear that reminded me of Walter. I grabbed it and hugged it tightly just as I got the sudden urge to misbehave.

"Girls…" I whispered, making them come closer, "bet you a 20 I can sneak this out without paying!"

~~~

Walter's shoulders slumped, and he let out an irritated groan when he saw one of the girls throwing things inside the store. Though, he sighed in relief when I paused this stupid game, and a small smile tugged the edge of his mouth when I hugged a huge stuffed bear that reached down to my thighs and was high above the top of my head as I squeezed it to my torso. 

The way I looked at the bear reminded him of the loving looks I always gave him. But a sense of foreboding assaulted him as we started whispering and pointed at the door.

~~~

"Okay, okay… shush!" I whispered way too obvious and held the stuffed animal behind my back.

"Hey Keylah, can you pay for my chips?" I asked and backed away toward the door, nearly stumbling on my heels and holding the laughter in my gut. 

Noticing my attempt, the old woman cleared her throat, giving me a glare, "You are going to have to pay for that or I will call the police…"

"Her husb…"

"Shut up, Stephanie!" Keylah shouted and threw a bottle of lube in her direction, accidently hitting my shoulder, which made me drop the bear on the floor. 

"Key, you fucking bitch!!!" I answered and picked up the bottle, throwing it back at her. 

"Hey stop that!!!!" The clerk demanded and walked back behind the counter, picking up her phone. 

We ignored her, laughing like schoolgirls and throwing the bottle back and forth between us. Boxes of tampons and condoms fell to the floor as we moved through the hygiene section shouting playfully. 

As Keylah threw the bottle at me for the 12th time, I lifted it and threw it so hard it hit the window and broke it, causing the store's alarm to go off immediately.

"Oh… fu……..ck" I uttered.

~~~

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no," Walter panicked as he saw us vandalising the store. He was immediately ready to jump out of the car, but then it would be obvious he'd been keeping an eye on me. He had to wait for the call. 

He wasn't even hoping that the clerk would not involve the police in the matter. She has to. ‘Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck.’ 

When he saw the lady picking up the phone, he buried his face in his palms and rubbed it tiredly.

"Stupid, fucking bitches" he sighed, not believing his wife being so reckless. 

He picked up the buzzing radio and said, "Marshall. I'm here. On it." 

Without delay, he took the beanie off and got out of the car with his badge and gun ready.

~~~

Fingers dug into my hair, I stared wide-eyed at the broken window, immediately regretting all my decisions in the last couple of hours. 

'Walter was going to fucking kill me'. 

"I am soooooooo……." I began to say, turning to the clerk slowly while Keylah and Steph held their hands over their mouths. "So sorry." I stretched out while the alarm continued ringing in my ears. 

Then just like out of a nightmare, stepping through shards of broken glass with his big black boots, I saw Walter walking in, his brows knit together, his badge and his gun held out but kept low. He was enormous and menacing, yet the sight of him comforted me.

"Oh thank god, it's you!" I call out relieved.

~~~

The glass cracked beneath his steps as he walked in. He looked around and checked the store for cameras. 'Fuck, there were CCTVs'. 

He hoped to snatch me away and take care of the situation without involving... well himself but now that there was evidence it wasn't possible anymore. I was looking at him like a frightened little girl, but he couldn't help me, and frankly, he didn't feel like it either.

He looked at the clerk, showed her his badge and said in a neutral tone "MPD. What seems to be the problem?" 

~~~

My breath hitched at his "cop voice" and the way he asked the clerk. 

Stepping back and standing in the middle of the group, the three of us gaped at him with utter dumbfoundedness. Both my heart and gut dropped to the messy floor out of fear, and the way he carried himself, looking so menacing and authoritative made my panties drenched with arousal. 

"Officer, thank god you arrived! These three tried to steal a stuffed animal and started wreaking havoc in the store, throwing stuff around like children and speaking offensively!" The old woman explained and stood in the middle of the mess, looking helpless. 

My eyes rounded with false innocence, and I nibbled my bottom lip, giving Walter a vulnerable look. 

Walter was patiently listening to the clerk. Not a muscle flinched on his face as if he'd known everything. He took his notebook and a report form out and took care of the paperwork. 

The old lady eyed the three of us nervously while Walter was scribbling, and she hesitantly asked, "I'm sorry, Officer, but shouldn't you handcuff them? They might run."

Walter's curly head lifted, and he flashed the lady a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Don't worry, ma'am. They won't run."

"Is he serious?" Steph whispered, and I elbowed her, giving Walter a rather pissed off smile as he pretended not to know us at all and treated me like any other criminal.

Was it that just for show? Probably. We were going to have a serious talk about boundaries once we'd get home.

Walter finished writing his report and made the lady sign it before turning to look at the three of us, clenching his jaw. 

After a long, stern silence, I finally spoke, "Can I still get the teddy bear?"

Walter's nostrils flared as he dug into his pocket, pulled out a 20-dollar bill, slammed it on the counter and said to the clerk "For the bear."

At first, the lady was dumbfounded, then she blurted out outraged "Why are you buying a gift for a criminal?"

Walter didn't even spare her a look. He picked up the bear and looked at me with unflinching, stern eyes that made all three of us take a step backwards.

"Because she's my fucking wife."

The tone of his voice made the three of us startle, and I released a small gasp, seeing the look on his face. Walter made a gesture with his hand singling us to walk out of the store in order, and we did as he commanded. At the same time, my eyes gave him a mischievous smirk, mistaking this behaviour for a show.

Walter left the store last and immediately commanded, "To the car".

When we got there on the opposite side of the street, he opened the car and shoved the teddy bear on the passenger seat, then turned back, crossed his hands on his chest, and looked at all three of us. 

"Here's how it's gonna happen. We go in the precinct, fill out the forms, you stay the night, and most likely will be charged with a misdemeanour. Although the weed might be more problematic." He glared at me pointedly. 

The girls and I collectively gasped. 

"Now get in the back seat, all of you."

With shuddering legs, Keylah and Steph obediently entered the patrol car. I stared at Walter as he stood there towering over me, his massive arms crossed around his broad chest.

Still intoxicated, I looked at him with disbelief, realising two things: he arrived at the scene in less than two minutes after the lady called the police, which is impossible. And two, he couldn't possibly know I had weed on me unless… 

"Were you stalking me?!" I called out, ignoring the police officer and speaking to my husband. My hands went to my hips, my face sulking. 

"Oh my god, Walter! You were! Weren't you?" I frowned and shook my head, grunting with disgust.

"You are in no position to reproach me for anything right now", Walter said, seemingly calm. "But if you wanna know, I was patrolling in the neighbourhood and decided to check up on you. I saw the way you were shaking your ass for strangers" he spat, but he let his eyes roam the tight dress, and the way he subtly licked his lips made me sure he remembered exactly which dress it was.

"Do as you're fucking told and get in the car or you're gonna find yourself in even bigger trouble." 

"Oh my god, Walter!!! Are you fucking kidding me?!" I yelled at him and stepped back, throwing my hands in the air furiously.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS!!! MY OWN HUSBAND STALKING ME?! What's next Walter? You gonna put an ankle bracelet thingy on me, so I don't get to leave the house without your fucking permission?!"

I got so angry, my hands pushed at his chest, to which he didn't even budge, and only his jaw tightened.

"I am NOT getting into that car, and you are going to let Keylah and Steph go before you are going to be in trouble!"

Keylah and Steph were both watching with utter fascination as they saw the growing tension in Walter's posture.

Once Keylah and Steph were inside the car, they felt like the immediate danger was over. Their drunkenness and high made them reckless again and they started cheering me in the verbal fight with my husband.

Walter was on the verge of bursting, it was evident from his face. He took a menacing step towards me and despite my anger, a pang of arousal shot in my core.

"Get. in the. fucking. car" he growled in a barely audible voice. He gave me one last chance to voluntarily obey him.

I moved closer toward him, my head tilting up to meet his menacing gaze, my breasts ghostly brushing against his hard torso.

"I am not going anywhere with you," I answered unflinchingly. "Keep this attitude up, and the whole town will get to enjoy me swaying this ass long before you do." I teasingly slapped my own ass and then smirked arrogantly as I heard the girls cheering at the backseat

"That's it."

Quick as lightning, Walter's hands uncrossed and shot out. He grabbed my arms, turned me around with dizzying speed and slammed my torso down on the hood of the police car.

"Jennifer Marshall, you are under arrest for destruction of property, public intoxication and obstruction of a law enforcement officer."

I gasped incredulously as I felt the metal handcuffs closing on my wrists while Walter was performing his duty automatically and methodically. I'd never seen him make an arrest, let alone manhandle me like this.

With my cheek pressed against the cold metal, I could see both Keylah and Steph gape at us, eyes and mouth wide with daze. 

Still intoxicated, I hissed as a shiver of fear and sexual arousal shot through my spine, creeping all the way down to my throbbing core. 

"What the fuck are you doing?!" I cried out in protest. "I am your wife!"

My attempt to stand up brought my ass to collide with his crotch, where I felt the unmistakable throb of his blood circulating down to his groin. 

"Are you also getting the feeling that they're gonna fuck?" Steph whispered to Keylah, loud enough for us to hear.

"Shush!" she answered and stared, licking her lips. 

"Let me go, you fucking pig!" I screamed and squirmed on the hood helplessly. 

"Anything you say will be held against you in the court of law" Walter continued in his deep cop voice as if I hadn't even spoken.

"Say his dick, girl!" Keylah shouted, and Steph wooed, but they quickly shut up and resorted to concealed giggling as Walter shot angry eyes at them. He stepped closer to secure his hold on the handcuffs, and I felt the warm coarse material of his jeans at the back of my thighs.

"If you don't want to add resisting arrest and possession of narcotics to your offences, shut the fuck up and stop squirming."

"Fuck” I hissed, which didn't go unnoticed by Walter. My ass naturally shifted against his hardening bulge, and I moaned gently, not loud enough for the girls to hear but definitely heard by Walter, who had his hand around my cuffed wrists.

"You're enjoying this, big guy?" I spit out sardonically, "controlling your wife like you always want to, hmm?"

With the alcohol flushing through my veins, mingled with the sheer exhilaration of anger, I became more daring than ever.

"I think you are just scared because we both know you are never going to tame me."

[fandom-imagines-stories]

A Bourbon Street Wedding

Enzo St. John x Mikaelson! Reader

Part 4 of 4: ( Part One, Part Two, Part Three)

Words: 3859

Summary: The big day has finally arrived.  You couldn’t have asked for anything more perfect. 

Notes: I can’t believe it’s been around 3ish years since I started this series. To anyone out there who is still reading, thank you! This is the final part in my Enzo and the Originals Series and I really hope you guys enjoyed. Thank you so much for reading! Warning: So much fluff ahead. Lovey dovey fluff, family fluff, just all kinds of fluff. 

-

The New Orleans’ sound did not wake you up. It was the feeling of someone looming over you as you slept that crept deep into your slumbering mind and forced you awake. Your eyes fluttered open and you screamed. Caroline stood over you, hands on her hips and rage in her eyes. 

“How are you still sleeping?” She shrieked yanking the covers off of you. You groaned and turned your head to look at the alarm clock. “The wedding is only seven hours away! We need to get ready!” Enzo rolled over, covering his ears with his pillow. Caroline grabbed your hand and Enzo’s arm and dragged you out of the bed.  

“Caroline, I appreciate how much you’ve done to help, but-” Enzo started groggily. Caroline shoved a bag of hair product at him and pushed him out into the hall. 

“Damon got here earlier, he’s waiting downstairs for you.” 

“But-”

“No, buts, we are already way behind schedule.” Caroline huffed. Her planner-face calmed and she smiled at both of you, stepping to the side so you could look at each other. “Alright, you two. This is it.” The last time you would see each other before the ceremony. You just stared at Enzo, speechless. Neither of you could even begin to know what to say, so you just laughed nervously. Caroline slammed the door. “Okay, let’s do this.” 

Bonnie, Rebekah, and Hayley all burst into the room. Hayley pushed play on the stereo and music blasted, mostly cheesy romance songs that Caroline had insisted upon. Bonnie popped a bottle of champagne and Rebekah toyed with your hair while Hayley and Caroline talked about their daughters. 

“Hope is staying with her grandmother this morning. Mary is bringing her later.” Hayley explained. 

“Ric’s staying with the girls. He sends his best.” Caroline announced. You nodded and smiled. Alaric was your friend, despite his complicated relationship with the rest of your family. Then again, most of your friends had a complicated relationship with your family. Caroline scowled. “Stefan has elected himself as the selfless martyr who will not be attending so he doesn’t ‘cause a scene’.” She rolled her eyes. You took her hand swinging it back and forth playfully. 

“You deserve better.” You noted. Bonnie raised a glass.

“Amen to that.” She handed out the drinks and the morning passed by with many giggles and indecisive arguments over what color lipstick you should wear. When all was settled, you were cast into a frenzy of makeup and hair curlers until Caroline declared your look to be ‘just right’. 

Meanwhile, downstairs, a reluctant vampire stood outside the gate, tempted to turn around and run as fast as he could in the opposite direction. Of course, the first person to greet him didn’t exactly put his mind at ease. 

“Damon Salvatore…” Klaus chuckled darkly. “What a pleasure to see you again.” 

“Niklaus.” Elijah called from inside. “Do stop frightening the best man.” The oldest living Mikaelson came out and stood by his brother. “Hello Damon.” Damon gave the pair a reluctant wave. The magic witchy Mikaelson- one that Damon didn’t even know existed until now- invited him in and the three lead him to the room where Enzo was getting ready. Damon death-glared him as Freya went upstairs and the brothers stood on either side of him, like minions of death. 

“Please tell me you’ve got bourbon.” He grumbled, side-glancing the two originals, waiting for one to pounce. Enzo watched in irritation as Damon threw his stupid, trademarked leather jacket onto the chair. Kol glared from his spot on the sofa. 

“I thought we’d already gone over the guest list.” He sneered. “I would’ve made sure that this-”

“Behave yourself Kol.” Elijah warned. 

“It’s nice to know none of you have changed.” Damon snarked, snatching up the bottle of bourbon on the side-table. He poured himself a drink and downed it quickly. “And neither has your taste in liquor.” Enzo growled.

“You’re here for a reason, Damon.” He groaned. “You already missed the bachelor party, now please, do something helpful.” 

“You missed one hell of a night, Damon.” Kol smirked, licking his lips. 

“Yeah, I heard about those call girls going missing.” Damon noted. “I’m surprised at you, Elijah. I never took you for one of us miscreants.” Elijah kept up his stoic expression, his tone betraying his slight annoyance.

“I refrained from last night's activities.” 

“He was absolutely no fun.” Klaus whined. “Lovesick fool. Hayley’s practically got him on a leash.” Kol and Klaus both snickered. Elijah shook his head, but couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He really was a lovesick fool, not that he was ashamed to admit it. And with Davina and Cami both gone, he didn’t reprimand his brothers for their partying. 

“I believe that I was not the only so-called ‘buzzkill’ at the party.” He pointed out, his eyes on the groom. Damon’s jaw dropped. 

“Enzo?” He fake-gasped. “Has our blood-thirsty party man finally turned into a hopeless romantic?” Enzo rolled his eyes and shrugged. 

“Just because I’m not a brute, doesn’t mean I’m a hopeless romantic.” He smirked. “Undeniably in love, yes. But not hopeless.” 

“I think I’m going to be sick.” Kol pretended to gag. “You remember you’re speaking of my twin? I know a couple secrets about her you would not find so romantic.” 

“Kol.” Elijah scolded. “We wouldn’t want Lorenzo getting cold feet now would we?”

“Yes because then I would have to remove them.” Klaus threatened, casting a dark look to the groom. Enzo gulped and began to tie his tie over his pristine white shirt. Elijah had picked it out, which meant that it was the best money could buy. 

You both looked perfect. After all, this was the biggest moment in all your centuries of living. The girls gathered around you and let out a collective sigh of awe. This was it. 

The guests were beginning to arrive and you felt your heart pounding, wishing that you could be with him to calm your nerves. But of course, it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony and with your shared history of weddings, you needed all the luck you could get.  And so you waited, tapping your foot at an alarming speed and trying to take deep breaths. 

“Everything alright dear sister?” Kol wondered with a smirk, leaning against your doorway. Caroline, Rebekah, Bonnie and Hayley were all getting ready to be the perfect bridesmaids and Freya was preparing to officiate the wedding. She had been so excited when you asked her and you couldn’t think of anyone else you wanted to say the words ‘I now pronounce you husband and wife’. 

“What could go wrong?” You looked at your twin and smiled nervously. Kol’s face suddenly darkened. 

“Well I can think of something.” He growled. You turned to see who he was looking at and gasped. Kol stepped towards Marcel.  “I don’t recall sending your invitation.” 

“I just came to tell Y/N congratulations.” He held up his hands a sign of peace. “I don’t want to cause any problems. Not today.” Kol continued to loom ferociously over Marcel until you stepped in between them. 

“Kol, why don’t you go make sure that Klaus hasn’t killed any of the guests? I don’t want a single speck of blood on him when he and Elijah walk me down the aisle.” You were able to shoo him away before he could object, turning back to Marcel with fiery eyes. “Of all the days you decide to make amends…”

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness for not telling you I was alive all those years.” He started. “I’m asking you not to hate me. All I want is for things to go back to the way they were before everything happened. We were pretty close friends, you and me.” 

Thick as thieves, more like it. While Marcel was like a son to your older brother and a lover to Rebekah, he was always one of your dearest friends. You were devastated when you believed your father had killed him. When you discovered he was really alive, you were both relieved and furious. All those years and never once had he reached out to find you. Seeing him stand before you now erased all of your anger. 

“You say it like I’ve forgotten.” You cried, pulling him into a hug. “Thank you for coming, Marcel. You don’t know how much it means to me.” You pushed away with a small smile on your face and tears in your eyes. 

“Hey,” He comforted, placing a hand on your cheek. “We can’t have you crying before the wedding.” 

“Would you stay?” You pleaded. “Please, Marcel. It would make this day even more perfect.” He gave you a look. 

“Can you promise none of your siblings are going to try to kill me?”

“You know I can’t.” You both laughed and he agreed to stay, sneaking down into the courtyard where the ceremony was taking place. With him gone, you were alone again and the unstoppable nerves returned. “Come on, Y/N. You have faced centuries of trials and vicious enemies. You’re just-”

“Pledging to spend the rest of eternity with someone with probably as much emotional baggage as yourself?” Klaus finished, stepping into the room. Elijah had managed to get him into a suit and he completed it with his famous mischievous grin. 

“Shouldn’t you be downstairs with Elijah?” You put your hands on your hips. 

“Oh come now, don’t be so cross. It is, after all, the happiest day of your life.” He replied smugly. “I simply wanted a word with you before the festivities begin.” He led you to sit on one of the sofas, taking your hand in his own. 

“What’s this about, Nik?”

“I know that I have been… difficult these past centuries.” He smirked and you couldn’t help but laugh in agreement. “The truth is, Y/N, that I am completely afraid of losing your love to someone else. But I have seen the way you are with Enzo and I simply cannot bring myself to take it away from you. I may be a selfish bastard, but even I do not wish to see you unhappy. I wish you the most joyous life, Y/N.” 

“Klaus,” You placed a kiss on your brother’s shoulder. “My love for you will never falter or diminish, no matter how much of a thorn in my side you are.” He gave you the loving smile that you often wished to see more of. Klaus was troubled and all you hoped for was that one day he would find the kind of happiness you had found with Enzo. 

“You look stunning.” Elijah noted from the doorway. He held out his arm. “Shall we?” Klaus and you stood and the three of you walked down to where you would be entering. Caroline and Bonnie would be first, then Rebekah with Damon, and Kol insisted on announcing you like some kind of queen. You were pretty sure he just wanted to get a laugh out of the crowd before you walked down the aisle. Of course, it was just nice to have your twin want to take part. 

You could feel yourself trembling as Caroline and Bonnie started walking. Rebekah and Damon were bickering even as they began down the aisle. You took shaky breaths and felt Elijah chuckle. 

“Everything is going to be fine.” He assured you. 

“You know, it’s never too late for me to kill him.” Klaus whispered and you elbowed his side. Kol gave you one final smirk before heading out to the front of the space. 

“Ladies and gentlemen!” He greeted. “You are all here to celebrate the union between Enzo St. John and my beautiful sister, Y/N Mikaelson. Us being twins, I could share a great deal of stories about Y/N…” He looked back towards you and you glared at him. “But that will have to wait until the reception. Now, without further adieu,” He had an exceptionally smug smile on his face now and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his final words. “Here comes the bride.” 

Enzo finally was allowed to turn around as the music began to play. His heart leapt and his breath hitched. You were the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen. In fact, gorgeous wasn’t even the right word for it. Nothing could describe how you looked as you walked towards him.  As if his eyes alone had calmed you, you felt your nerves wash away and the brightest smile spread across your face as you took the first step down the aisle. The faces of your closest friends turned towards you and with each step, you felt emotions bubbling up inside. As you reached the end, Klaus gave you a wink before taking his place beside Damon, removing a stake for his pocket. 

“Klaus!” You hissed. He gave you a mischievous grin.

“Couldn’t resist.” He said, Damon taking the stake from him.  Elijah lifted your veil and you felt a tear roll down your cheek. He smiled and wiped it away, placing a kiss on your forehead. 

Freya beamed at you as she greeted the crowd and thanked them for coming to witness your union. Enzo couldn’t take his eyes off of you. The ceremony itself was simple and you and Enzo stared into each other’s eyes the entire time.

“May I have the rings?” Your oldest sister asked. Damon handed Enzo your ring and Rebekah handed you his. “The couple has prepared their own vows.” Freya nodded for you to begin and you took a deep breath, taking both of his hands in yours.

“The first day we met, you were trying to kill my best friend. However, just a few years previous so had I.” You laughed through the tears now freely falling down your face. “I thought that the only promise I would make was to my family. Our code of always being there for each other, and although it has been tested- multiple times-” You shot Klaus a look. “I want to extend that to you. I promise to love you and to protect you and cherish you. Always and forever.” You slid the ring onto his finger and laughed to yourself, wiping away the tears. You looked into his eyes to see that he was crying too.

“I didn’t know what it was like to be loved.” He began and for a moment you thought he’d blubber more than you had. He always was a romantic. But he composed himself as best he could. “Until I met you. You saw past all of the bloodshed in my past. All of my pain and anger. You had had your fair share of hurt over the years and you decided to take a broken soul and mend it. You saved me.” He took a deep breath, feeling a tear roll down his cheek. “And I plan to spend the rest of our lives trying to repay you for the love that you’ve shown me. Always and forever.” He put the ring on your finger and you both laughed at how emotional you both were. Freya smiled. 

“What are you waiting for? Kiss her.” The crowd erupted in applause as Enzo dramatically pulled you into his arms and lowered you into a dip before kissing you for the first time as your husband. 

-

The reception was held at Rousseau’s, which was heavily decorated with roses and lights to the point that it no longer looked like a bar, but something from a fairy tale. Again, the handy work of Caroline. Klaus watched Caroline from his seat at the head table as everyone waited for you and Enzo to arrive. 

“Now that Lorenzo is officially family, I recommend you don’t give him the same treatment that you gave us for the past few centuries.” Elijah straightened his cufflinks with a smile, giving Klaus a side glance. 

“Of course not, Elijah. The daggers don't work on him.” Klaus grinned mischievously. “Although, there’s always the crypt in the basement.” 

“Don’t even think about it.” Rebecca chimed in. Elijah looked across the table to Hayley, feeling a deep desire to one day have this with her. To have the happiness that his sister was now experiencing. Hayley saw him and smiled, her eyes lighting up his soul, or whatever was left of it. Perhaps one day...

The doors opened and the newlyweds entered. You still couldn’t quite believe it. In all your years of living, you couldn’t think of a moment when you were half as happy as you were now. Enzo’s fingers were laced with yours as you walked towards the main table, seeing the smiles on your friends and family’s faces. The guests cheered as you took your seats. Dinner was quickly served and it wasn’t long before Rebecca stood, tapping her glass with her spoon to get the room’s attention. 

“Ah yes, it is time for the dreaded speeches.” She announced with a smile. “Being the maid of honor, I am obligated to speak for my dear older sister. And since I have over a thousand years of stories, it was difficult to pick just one. I succeeded however, in finding a memory that I believe best describes my sister.

“She and Elijah were the only two to escape Klaus without being daggered and shoved into a box.” She gave Klaus a brief glare before continuing. “In the late 1800’s, when I awoke, many things had changed. People I loved turned their back on me.” Her eyes came across Marcel, but didn’t linger for long. “Elijah reintroduced me back into society, but it was Y/N who helped me nurse a broken heart. She made me believe in my own strength again. Y/N showed me the love that only an older sister could. I am beyond delighted that her heart has finally found its equal.” She looked at Enzo happily and feigned a scowl. “But know that should anything happen to her, you will not only have my brothers to worry about.” 

“Duly noted.” Enzo nodded, his hand having never left yours. All eyes were now on the best man. Damon took a long drink from his glass and stood reluctantly. 

“There isn’t a lot I can say about Enzo before him and Y/N met. When Enzo and I first knew each other we were prisoners. We were trapped together, tortured together, and experimented on.” You felt Enzo’s grip on your hand tighten at the memory. “When I got my chance to escape, I took it. I betrayed him. Decades later, he swore revenge on me and tried to kill my girlfriend.” Reading the confusion in the crowd, he smirked. “Don’t worry, this bromance has a happy ending.” 

“Of sorts.” Enzo whispered to you and you both laughed quietly. 

“My point is that Enzo hated my guts until Y/N got him to forgive me. I believe her words were ‘There are better ways to spend an eternity than seeking revenge. Especially against an old friend.’ Anyway, here I am and here they are, so I guess we all know the end of that story.” Damon glanced at you and despite his usual smirk, you could see the sincerity in his eyes. “Elena was always rooting for the two of you to end up together, so that meant I have to too.” The crowd chuckled at his last comment, but you stood up from your chair and pulled the snarky vampire into a hug. 

“Thank you, Damon.” You whispered. “I miss her too.” You felt him return the embrace and smile sadly against your cheek. 

“She would have loved this, you know. All the gushy romance and twinkling lights.” He said, fixing a hair that had fallen out of place and tucking it behind your ear. You nodded.

“You’ll have this with her someday, Damon. And when you do, I will be the one giving the speech.” 

“Over my dead body, Mikaelson.” He snarked. “But I guess is Mikaelson St. John now. Jeez, that’s a mouthful.”

“Sit down, Salvatore.” You shook your head in amusement. As you went back to your seat beside your husband, you noticed a member of the wedding party’s chair was empty. A rush of panic shot through you. “Elijah, where’s Klaus?” 

All of your siblings turned to the vacant seat and their eyes widened. Everyone started to split up to go find him before he could cause any trouble. 

“I’ll go get Caroline, she went to the bathroom.” Bonnie said, taking off in the direction of the restrooms. You and Enzo decided to check the kitchen but were not at all prepared for what you would find. Sure enough, there was Klaus. And Caroline. On the counter. You quickly shut the door, trying to contain your laughter. You took Enzo’s hand and headed back to the table, grinning like an idiot.

“Well it’s about time.”

-

As the night slowly died down, Enzo clinked his glass to acquire the crowd’s attention. Everyone focused on him as he stood, shooting you a bright smile. 

“May I have everyone’s attention? First and foremost I would like to thank each of you for coming out to celebrate this wondrous occasion. Some of you are from this beautiful city, and some came all the way from a small town called Mystic Falls.” He turned to Damon and smirked before returning his loving gaze to you. “But to end the night, I wanted to say a few words to my new wife, Y/N.”  You felt the blush rise to your cheeks and the warmth rush over you. 

“A few months ago, I discovered who my family was. As it turns out, after a century of searching and hoping, they turned out to be a bunch of thieves and betrayers. No resemblance to me, I’m sure.” The room laughed. “I’ll admit that I was crushed. But now, the Mikaelsons have accepted me into their family, some more willing than others.” Klaus shrugged with a smirk, still flushed from his little rondevu earlier. 

“I almost had you.” He teased. Enzo continued, holding his hand out for you, lifting you to stand beside him.

“None of this would have happened if it wasn’t for the brilliant, caring, incredibly sexy-” he winked and you giggled, “most wonderful girl that came into my life when I thought I had no reason left to live.” You laid a hand on his shoulder, feeling tears start to well up in your eyes as they started to in his. “She made me see that maybe there was a slight shred of hope in this eternity we were both stuck with. Y/N became my world. A world I would do anything to protect.” His hand slipped into yours. “Now we may have our disagreements, and I’m sure we have a long road of bickering and evading certain doom.” He held up his glass in one last toast for the night. “So here’s to one hell of a forever.”

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

[hope-to-hell]

Listen. Helmut Zemo’s got a grip on my mind and won’t let go, especially that brutal interrogation scene. So even though I’ve only seen Civil War and not FATWS (I know, I know. It’s on my list), I am here with smut. The Only Choice You’ve Got. Helmut Zemo x Reader. Dub/noncon (well, sort of), smut, restraints, overstimulation, glove kink, spit kink, throat fucking, degradation. All you have to do is give him the smallest, simplest answer. A porny retelling of That Scene.

The world comes into focus and it feels— strange. Heavy. All your blood’s gone to your head, and Christ, your core— you—

Ah. You’ve decided to join us. The accent takes a minute to place; his voice bites and tears with sharp little teeth and there will be no kindness, no mercy, not from him. Not like this. Not until you tell me what I need to know.

And you don’t know anything, of course, how could you? This is a wrong place wrong time situation

(Is it? Is it really?)

and at any rate, even if you did know something you wouldn’t tell him.

(Darling. This will be difficult. You will suffer, but you must push through.

I know. I get it.

You don’t. You won’t until you’re in the thick of it.)

What— the world is swimming and strange and everything is upside down, your nose level with his belt and he is so very close because his gloved fingers are inside you. Tell me.

To hell with you.

His grimace could be either lust or rage; those cruel thin lips twist a little at the corners and his fingers press just a touch too hard.

Ah.

And your body was on the edge long before your mind caught on; his fingers work you with a wet squelching sound as he crooks them to find the spot that makes you howl. Tch. Too loud. He pulls his fingers out to slap your thigh, raising a red mark that burns cold with the liquid need that cools on your skin. Quiet, unless you’re giving me answers.

But you haven’t even asked me any questions—

Another slap, on the other thigh this time. Are we on your schedule? No. And his fingers seek your center once more.

(Helmut? Will it hurt?

It might, a bit. And once we begin I will not stop.

I— fuck.

Language, darling.)

Pleasure can be just as...persuasive...as pain. The gloves render his fingers thick and impersonal as he twists them into you. You would squirm but there’s his other hand on your belly, just above your mound, pressing in as he’s pressing out, fast and hard and rough until need spills from you and runs down your body. Such pretty cries, but that’s not what I’m after. We’ll just have to try again. And oh how your face burns to see him lick the slickness from his glove, to see that twist of his lips.

Let’s see how much more you can take.

One orgasm becomes two becomes three, and you’re getting lightheaded from being upside-down so long. It’s absurd; he shouldn’t even be able to do this, and yet he pulls pleasure from you easy as anything. And this close you can so intimately see the way he strains at his trousers; he bites it back before it can show in his voice but he is hard, thick and hot enough that you can nearly feel warmth radiating from him through the fabric. And it takes a moment for you to realize—

He still hasn’t asked you any questions.

No, darling. Why would I work any harder than I need to? All I have to do is wait until your mind is gone, and then I can slip right inside and take all your secrets. And with a final twist of his hand he casts you headlong into darkness.

And then.

Wake up.

Ah— What—

Welcome back. Let’s continue.

Everything aches and the blood rush has you dizzy; he bends to lap his tongue through your folds and catches your labia in his teeth on the way back. It’s a sharp sting and it makes you buck, for what good it does; bound tail over head you’re capable of little beyond the faintest wriggle.

Oh, darling. Are you ready to behave? And oh how he receives your curse with another twist of his lips; it’s a thin cruel smile that promises all sorts of torments. Hm. Almost. Not quite ready, are you? Still so defiant after all that. But you’ll break, one way or another.

(Be strong, be strong; you will suffer, sweet, but you must bear it. There will be one question: one simple, inconsequential thing. You must not answer.)

His fly is so close, and how he must be aching; still he strains and throbs, but now he has his hand on his cock, pressing hard; he indulges in a little hiss of pleasure and I think I’ll fuck that pretty skull of yours. I wonder, how long can you hold your breath?

Long enough, as it turns out, but barely. You’re at the perfect height for him to part your lips and fuck in deep; he answers your defiant graze of teeth with a vicious twist to your nipple that has it aching. Tch. You know better than that.

And for a long time there is no sound beyond the wet slide of his cock down your throat, the obscene slap of his balls against your flesh, the rasping gasps that tear free from you when he withdraws for the windup to a particularly vicious thrust. And all the while his hands are cradling your jaw, not to comfort but to hold you in position, to render you a perfect doll for him to use. At last, he swells and pulses; semen slides slickly down your throat and he is pressing, he is holding; all the world is growing dim and he does not relent.

When your throat is burning and spots dance before your eyes he withdraws; he gathers your tears on his glove and tastes salt and shame; he parts your folds to spit the tears back into you. Are you ready to behave? There’s the barest brush of leather against the handprint on your thigh; there is gentleness behind it, seductive and dangerous. Don’t you want to make it easy on yourself? Fold into my hands; when I ask, you’ll answer and then you can rest. Now, tell me. Where did we first meet?

Fuck— fuck you. It’s weak, hoarse, thick with tears and snot; there’s a flash of something across his face, something almost— soft? But it’s gone in an instant and all that’s left is cold, impersonal blankness. And his fingers are inside you once again.

Hm. I wonder. How much more of this can you take? Everyone has their breaking point. All it takes is the right application of pressure— oh, that’s the spot that makes you shake; it’s bruised, abused beyond reason, but still sparking shivers of need across your skin. Like a moth to a flame, aren’t you? Look at how you still respond, you greedy little thing. How many more before you lose yourself to me?

(I know you like it. I also know you have a breaking point. Don’t let me find it.)

He switches hands after a while, but you’re so far gone you barely notice; pleasure tears at you and stabs its little knives all through you. If only you could rest. If only—

Come now. Aren’t you tired? I only want the smallest, simplest answer from you, and then I’ll let you down. I’ll wrap you warm and let you sleep. It’s nothing important. I just want to know: where did you and I first meet?

I— the words are so close. It would be so easy. Surely it doesn’t matter. (Make me proud) It’s just one word. (You can do it) It couldn’t hurt. (Show your strength) And in the end you make the only choice you can. Go. To. Hell.

And there are his hands still shining slick as he lowers you down; well done he says from somewhere far away. Drink, he says with the cup held to your lips; rest he murmurs as he wraps you in his coat.

‘m sore.

I know. It can’t be helped. Darling. Go to sleep. You’re safe with me. He pulls his gloves off with his teeth to stroke your hair; the light is low outside the window and

It’s night again already?

You held out much longer than I expected. You did so well for me. His hands are flexing out their cramps; he’s tired although it’s hard to see. Hush. Sleep now. And there, at last, all wrapped in warmth, you do.

[cygnetofthesea]

Moments: Elite Fanfiction

This is a silly, goofy, bit I wrote while I was making tea yesterday. Sometimes I have an elaborate process and it made me think of how Nadia would have to teach Guzman his way around a kitchen since he grew up with a chef and maid and he needs domestic lessons lol. Will be part of a series of one-shots with GN domesticity. Warning, this is ridiculous af and a big stream of consciousness, hope you guys like it anyway! oh also some mild references of racism and islamaphobia

"You know when I asked you how to make tea, I didn't realize I was signing up for a science experiment."

Guzman looks on with wide eyes as Nadia pulls out a pot, filling it with water while grabbing a measuring cup. She smirks and winks at him as she pulls out a can of evaporated milk from the fridge.

"Hey, you said you wanted to learn how to make my favorite tea," she says with a shrug. "This is how."

Guzman eyes the supplies Nadia laid out on the counter and points at the can. "And what's that?"

"Milk."

He balks at her. "Milk? I've never seen milk in a can before."

Nadia snorts at his bewildered expression and rubs his shoulder affectionately. "Oh you poor, rich baby. Let me teach you. This is called evaporated milk. It’s usually used to make desserts but I like putting it in my tea. Makes it smooth, thick and delicious."

Nadia hums in delight at the thought of the delicious tea and Guzman can't help raise an eyebrow suggestively. "Smooth, thick, and delicious, huh? Sounds familiar."

She gasps, scandalized, and shoves at his shoulder. "You're such a pervert. Don't ruin the moment."

He tickles her waist, teasing. "I thought I was creating the moment."

Nadia fixes a stern look upon him, eyebrows raised, even as she fights back a smile. He sees her trembling lips and wants to tease her some more but instead pretends to be properly chastised.

"Yes ma'am," he says solemnly, his hands clasped together in supplication. "I promise to behave."

"Good," she says with a nod and misses how he mutters "For now," under his breath.

Nadia takes out a glass measuring cup, different from the other ones she had pulled out, and fills it with water.

"Wait, what is that for?"

"This is a measuring cup," Nadia answers patiently. "I'm using it to measure out four cups of water."

"But you already have those measuring cups," Guzman says, gesturing at the smaller, ceramic ones.

"Those are for dry ingredients, this one is for wet ingredients. Like water."

Guzman scratches his head. "This is way more complicated than I thought."

"We haven't even begun! Really, it's simple, just pay attention." She pours four cups of water into a small pot with a wooden handle."

"Wait, why are you putting it in a pot?"

Now it's Nadia's turn to look at him with bemusement. "Where else would I put it?"

"I don't know, in a kettle or something?"

"I told you, I'm making stove-top tea. Kettle tea is fine, but doesn't work as well for what I'm trying to do."

"Oh ok," Guzman says as though he understood even though he didn't. He watches her set the pot on top of the stove attentively, leaning against the counter. "Continue."

Nadia shoots him a teasing look. "I'm going to turn on the stove now. Will you be able to behave near the flame? No hanky panky."

Guzman lunges toward her, wrapping her up in his arms. "Well since you gave me a warning, I'll take advantage of the moment now, thank you." He smacks a kiss against her cheek.

She doesn't struggle out of his grip, instead slaps at his hand on her hand as though calling his attention. "If you're going to goof around, at least pay attention."

"Ok, ok, I'm paying attention." He rests his chin on her shoulder, looking over to see what she was doing. "When does the tea part come in?"

"Oh my god, Guzman!"

"Sorry, sorry, go ahead." He squeezes her bashfully to alleviate her ire.

She heaves a deep sigh. "Ok so as I was going to say," she says pointedly. "Let the water boil for a little bit before you put the tea in."

"How come? Why not just throw it all together?"

"Because the water isn't hot enough to steep the flavors out of the leaves. The leaves will just sit there but the flavors aren't being activated. Only the heat can draw it out, especially if you want the tea to be strong, which I do."

Guzman nods like an attentive student, Nadia's curls brushing against his cheek. He can't help but lean into her more, rubbing his cheek against hers. "Right, that I knew. Now I know to keep the leaves in longer when I make it for you."

"Exactly." She smiles and lightly caresses his ear with her free hand. "So, once you see the bubbles on the surface like that, it means…?"

She waits for him to fill in the blank and like a good student, he says "It’s ready for the tea leaves?"

"Good job!"

She actually sounds genuine when she says that and Guzman, like a dork, feels his chest swell with pride. Hah! He got something right. There was hope for him yet.

She steps away from him and gestures to the loose tea leaves. "Would you like to do the honors? Remember half a cup of the leaves."

Guzman nods eagerly, reaching for the leaves and the measuring cup when Nadia abruptly halts his movements. "Half cup, Guzman!"

He looks at the measuring cup in his hand, confused. "Isn't this half a cup? It looks small."

"Honey, no. It's labeled, see? That's a whole cup. We don't want me dying of heart palpitations."

Guzman whips around to look at her, wide-eyed. "You get heart palpitations? I didn't know that. Are you ok?"

He moves closer to her but she soothes him. "It's ok, it's nothing serious. I've just been over-caffeinating lately because of classes. I should probably slow down on it," she says, rubbing her chest absent-mindedly.

He places his hand against her heart, a frown on his face. He feels the steady thump and he relaxes a little. "How long has this been happening?"

She sets her hand over his. "It's ok. Life of a college student who's double-majoring and with a minor," she says with a wry smile.

Guzman's frown deepens, bordering on a pout as he pulls her into a hug. "You work too hard."

"It's all I've ever known," she says with a shrug, chuckling when he squeezes her tighter.

"It's a good thing I'm here, then."

He hadn't fully grasped just how much stress she was under. He knew, logically, that she had a lot on her plate with school and even a part-time job on the side. She had sent him a copy of her course schedule and her work schedule so that he knew where she was and could coordinate calls accordingly. He remembered opening up the email and balking at how packed it was, his own stress level rising on her behalf. But whenever he would talk to her, she was dismissive and said it was normal.

Nadia was always good at shielding stress sometimes to the point where she wasn't even aware of it herself and it worried him. But he was here now and he would take care of her.

He presses a kiss to her forehead, pulling away softly. Just then he sees the water bubbling over and as though they were in sync, Nadia's eyes widen and she whips around.

"The water!" they shout in unison, rushing to lower the heat.

They watch the bubbles fade until it's just a low simmer. Nadia sighs, shaking her head. "Yeah, that's not a step. Let's not repeat that."

Guzman salutes her and turns back to the measuring cups, taking care to look at the label on them to make sure he picked up the right one. He was definitely not trying to send his girlfriend to an early grave, especially not now that he finally has her.

"Ok, I got it!" He brandishes the half cup proudly, checking to make sure she saw. She shakes her head affectionately at his boyish excitement and claps again, the gesture genuine.

"Nice."

He carefully pours the leaves into the cup, glancing at the water to make sure it didn't bubble over again, but the heat was low and it was sage again. He gets a good whiff of the leaves and is pleasantly surprised by the smell.

"Whoa, what kind of leaves are there? Where do you get them from?" He looks up from smelling them and grins at her. "You know, since they're a staple for you."

"There's a middle eastern café not too far from here with live music and good food. They have a little shop at the back where they sell tea and all kinds of other snacks. Ooh we should go this Sunday night. I think that's when they're having their special and a performer who's supposed to be really good."

Guzman brings over the tea leaves, his grin widening at her excitement. He can't help but beam at her happiness, every time she smiles so brightly or gets excited about something.

"Definitely. Anything you want." He gestures toward the now boiling water with the cup of leaves. "Is it ready?"

"Fire away!"

Guzman looks at her, cautious, before his eyes flit to the open window. Nadia rests a reassuring hand on his shoulder knowing where his mind had gone.

"Don't worry," she says.

Guzman grimaces. "I've heard New Yorkers are crazy and assholes. Especially after what happened here all those years ago."

"It's not anything more or less different than what I've dealt with before." Before he can say anything else, she nods toward the pot. "Toss the tea in before it boils over again."

Guzman knows that he'll always worry about her and about people being hostile or worse, violent, toward her just because of her appearance, her beliefs. But it wasn't because of her, Nadia wasn’t the problem. It was others and what others perceive her beliefs to be. He knew all too well how radical racists could be, creating their own narratives. He knew because once upon a time, he was among those assholes.

He never resented Nadia for her hijab or religion, but he certainly didn't discourage other people's narrow perceptions. Not until he got to know her and learned that all the stereotypes that ignorant people perpetuated were complete and utter bullshit. If he could beat up his past self, he would but instead, he would fight for Nadia. She was no damsel that was for sure, but he would be right by her side, fighting alongside her. Fight for her beliefs, her rights, her freedom. He would spend the rest of his life righting his wrongs and making sure those that did wrong her, would soon learn not to.

But now was not the time for dark thoughts because his girlfriend was looking at him expectantly. He had wanted to learn how to make her favorite tea so that he could make it for her whenever she wished, he wanted to be able to bring her some small piece of comfort when she needed it.

He steps closer to the stove and pours the tea in. He watched in fascination as the boiling water rose to engulf the leaves, turning the once clear water a thick, dark sludge almost.

"Wow, this really is a science demonstration," he murmurs. "It looks like wet mud actually."

Nadia snorts. "Yeah, I suppose so." She looks at him with sparkling eyes, the amusement shining bright. "Your fascination with the simplest thing is both hilarious and cute."

"My parents always drank coffee and even then I never saw them actually make it. Probably because they never actually made it themselves," he adds.

"Well, allow me to humble you," Nadia winks. "Ok now stir with the wooden spoon."

Guzman obliges, stirring the boiling, dark water carefully. The sludge had looked thick on the surface but as soon as he began to stir, the smooth liquid gave way to the spoon.

"Nadia, you humbled me the moment you blackmailed me at that party."

"Hmm I think it took a bit more time than that. Ok so you're now going to let the water boil with the leaves. Then you're--"

"What? There's another step?" he asks, astonished.

Nadia gestures to the can of what he now understood to be evaporated milk. He made a mental note of the size and appearance of the can for future reference. "Yeah, what did you think that was for."

Guzman stammers. "Well…I guess, I don't know, I thought that's supposed to be the last step? Isn't that how the British do it?"

"And when exactly did I become British. Moreover, when were the British deemed to have dictatorship on tea-making?"

"True," he concedes. "I guess I didn't realize there were so many ways to make tea, especially ways that took soooo long."

Nadia shrugs with a grin. "You want quality tea, you have to put the work in."

Guzman couldn't help the broad smile that broke across his face. "Sounds familiar. I had to work really hard for you, didn't I? Worth."

He considers this a moment as Nadia pulls a box from the cabinet. They've been together for awhile now and living together for three months already and still, Guzman had moments where he couldn't believe they were truly together. How many times had he fantasized about running away with Nadia? Too many to count and yet he had never envisioned this particular scenario. The reality was so much sweeter than anything he could have imagined.

"Glad you think so. And I'm grateful you were patient with me." She pushes the open box toward him after kissing his cheek. "Ok now you're going to grab the other measuring cup, the one that's labeled two thirds."

Guzman looks between Nadia, the box, and the simmering pot of tea.

"Nadia, are you making tea or a potion?  Are you secretly a witch and this is your way of telling me?"

"Hey, it wouldn't have taken so long if you didn't keep interrupting with your commentary. You talk a lot." She flicks his ear lob teasingly. "Now hop to it."

"Yes, master."

Guzman takes care to find the correct measuring cup this time and scoops the white granules from the box. "And what is this?"

"Sweetener."

"I thought that was the sugar." He gestures at the shaker labeled azucar. Nadia was so organized he never had trouble finding things even when he first moved in.

"It is, but this is sweetener. It's a good substitute for sugar sometimes, especially for me since I drink too much tea."

"This doesn't have your label on it though."

Nadia twists the box to the side where the brand and logo is presented with the word sweetener on it.

"Oh."

Guzman pours in the milk then the measured amount of sweetener, watching the color change into a pretty brown color, resembling a light chocolate.

"This is cool actually,  I feel like an important scientist. Look what I just created."

"You are an important scientist. My scientist, you did great work."

She rubs his back in that way that's become familiar to him.

Living together, he saw another side of Nadia, one that made him fall in love with her even more and he hadn't thought that was possible. He loved the way he stretched as she woke every morning, the way she put toothpaste on his brush automatically, the way she hip-checked him to spit into the sink before he could, the way she always served him a heaping helping of food like she thought he had been starving for a month, the way she rubbed his back or neck or hair as she passed by him around their apartment. These small moments meant everything to him, these casual but intimate touches that told him she loved him and was thinking about him, kept him in this perpetual state of contentment and he never fails to return the touch.

He does so now, pulling her to his side and kissing her temple and he watches her turn off the heat. He's taking note of everything she's telling him and showing him so he can surprise her with her favorite comfort drink.

"Is it done now?" he asks eagerly. He wanted her to try it and he was excited to see if he had managed to replicate the delicious way she makes it.

"Almost. We have to strain out the leaves."

"Ah shit."

"We should definitely cook more often," Nadia says in amusement, pulling two glasses down from the cupboard. "Forget take-out, we're cooking. I get dinner and a show."

Guzman takes the small strainer from her, taking care with the steaming pot. "Hopefully not burned dinner. I just pour the tea into the cups now? Through the strainer?"

"Exactly and then we're done."

Once Guzman pours out two glasses of tea, he sets them in front of Nadia with a flourish. It's silly but he's still proud especially when Nadia hops excitedly.

"Done?"

"Done"

Guzman watches anxiously as Nadia takes a careful sip, waiting with baited breath for her final verdict.

Nadia sighs in contentment. "Perfection."

"Really?"

"Really."

Nadia sets down her cup to return his enthusiastic embrace. "I know how to make tea now! Who would have thought?"

She pulls away and takes another sip, smirking over the rim of the cup. "Definitely not me."

He sticks his tongue out at her before reaching for his own cup. Nadia was right, it was perfect.

"You know I'm going to expect this to be a regular thing now, right?" Nadia says, her smiling lips pressing against his.

He pulls her close, letting their glasses clink lightly. "Anything for my girl. That's why I wanted to learn. So I could make it for you whenever you wanted."

And he kept that promise for the rest of their lives. Even when they were old and graying, Guzman made sure the love of his life had warm tea ready with a kiss.

[fangirlovestuff]

Family - Frank Adler x reader

a/n- Hey lovely people! this is my second entry for the shameless hoes for chris challenge, so i’d like to say a very happy birthday (and belated birthday) to the lovely @stargazingfangirl18​ & @navybrat817​ who are hosting this challenge! thank you for sharing your kindness, talent, and shameless hoe thoughts with us through this challenge and every day, i hope you both had great days! here’s this Frank one shot as a gift! also, disclamer: i know nothing about boats. thoughts are in italics, prompt is in bold. Enjoy! <3

Summary: You move into a new town in search of a new job, and you meet a very handsome man and his cute niece. Or more accurately, their cat finds you.

Word count: ~3,550

Prompts:  Oops I caught feelings for you and I got ‘em baddd. &  “Oh god, did I say that out loud?”

Warnings: SMUT, explicit sexual content, explicit language. please do not read if you are uncomfortable with any of the above!

You opened the curtains of the small window, squinting a little as the morning sun hit your sleep-deprived eyes. It was the first night you spent in your new little house by the docks, and you'd always had a bit of a hard time sleeping in new places. 

You sighed and rubbed your eyes, getting the coffee started. You had another week until you had to work, giving you enough time to get to know your new surroundings and fix your sleep schedule before you took over at the local library. The pay wasn't too high but you needed a job while you were working on your novel, and what better than being surrounded by books?

You moved here to clear your head a little, feeling a change of scenery might be what you needed to write your story. What your parents and relatives referred to as your "little passion project" was in fact something you were willing to work hard to achieve. Being a published author was your goal, not a mere daydream. 

You sipped the warm coffee from your mug, looking out of the window at the quiet neighborhood. You startled at the sight of an orange cat appearing, out of nowhere, chased by a little girl who seemed to be around ten or eleven years old. You chuckled into your mug before seeing the girl stumble and fall. You put down your mug to rush to her aid, but before you could leave your doorstep, a man was already kneeling next to her. Maybe her dad, even though he seemed a little young for that.

You turned in search of the elusive cat, and found him in some bushes, licking his paws. You got closer and realized the ginger cat only had one eye. You cooed at the cat, beckoning him over, and to your surprise he listened, coming out of the bushes. You pet him a little and he willingly purred at your touch. You smiled before hesitantly reaching to lift him and hold him in your arms. From your acquaintance with cats, you expected him to thrash, scratch, or try to escape, especially from the hands of a stranger, but to your surprise he stayed put, letting you carry it over to the little girl and her dad, who were still kneeling on the grass.

The girl's eyes lit up when she saw you come closer, the cat still in your arms. "Fred!" she yelled and the cat finally showed signs of wanting to get away from you. You put him down and waved at them, coming closer and sitting down beside them, to be at eye level.

"Hey," you said and introduced yourself. "I couldn't help but notice this little guy trying to hide in the bushes. He's your cat, right?" you asked the little girl and she nodded, embracing him further. "Well, you've got a very well-behaved cat," you smiled at her, "he didn't put up a fight when I lifted him up, which is remarkable." Then you remembered a little girl of ten might not know what remarkable means, and opened your mouth to explain. 

"Yeah, Fred is very remarkable," she spoke before you could. You closed your mouth. All the while the man just sat there, seemingly evaluating you with his piercing blue eyes. From anyone else, you'd probably find the gaze daunting or uncomfortable, but from him, it sent a pleasant warmth through your body. 

"I'm Mary," she spoke once more, reaching her hands out to you. You took it and shook it, smiling at her. 

The man finally spoke up, "I'm Frank," he said in a deep voice, "nice to meet you. When did you move in? I haven't really seen you around."

"Actually, just yesterday," you smiled warmly at him. "This neighborhood seems lovely," you added.

"It is," he smiles. His smile is soft, lighting up his rugged features with evident kindness. You dismissed his previous hostility as a bad morning.

"C'mon Mary, we gotta get you ready for school," Frank got up and Mary took his hand and got up as well, waving at you as she and Frank marched back to their house, Fred trailing behind them. 

You smiled seeing Mary skipping next to Frank, holding his hand still. They made a very pretty, wholesome family. You wondered who the mom was.

A couple of days later you woke up to a weird scratching sound. You located the source of the noise was from the door, frowning before opening it. You were met with the sight of Fred, who immediately entered and rubbed his head on your leg. 

"Feeling at home, huh?" you smiled and scratched behind his ears. "Come on, let's get you back home," you got out of the door just when Frank came into sight.

"Good morning!" you called out as he got closer. 

"Morning!" he replied, lightly making his way to you. You noticed the way his white shirt stretched over his muscles and gulped. 

"Come on bud," he said as he lifted Fred up. "I'm sorry about him," he said. "I have no idea what's gotten into him," he smiled. You noted it seemed like he was in a better mood this morning. 

"It's fine," you replied, "he's a great alarm clock," you chuckled. 

"Oh god, he woke you up?" he scoffed at Fred. "Well, if you want to there's some coffee at our place, as a sorry for this little menace," he pet Fred a little.

"I'd love too, but I should probably get dressed," you gestured at your pajamas. 

"Yeah," Frank diverted his gaze, "Fred and I can wait," he said apologetically.

"Thanks," you said. 

You were back out within a few minutes, dressed and ready for the day. You walked beside Frank, making a bit of small talk about the neighborhood.

Once you reached the house you came in with Frank to find Mary eating breakfast in the company of a woman you haven't seen before.

"Thanks for watching her, Roberta. She couldn't be late today too," Frank said to the woman, Roberta apparently, and then to Mary, "Mary, we can't go chasing after Fred every time he decides to disappear."

"He was at my house," you intervened, "just coming to visit. He seems independent, you shouldn't worry if he goes on trips every once in a while. I promise if he comes to visit again, I'll get him back to you, okay?" you smiled.

Mary was quiet for a moment, as if considering what you just said, and then nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right. And thanks for bringing him back. You too Frank," she smiled and continued to eat her cereal. You fought the puzzled expression that was threatening to rise on your face. Why would she call her dad Frank?

"The bus will be here soon, honey," Roberta told Mary, "better hurry."

Mary jumped up, took her bag, and grabbed onto Frank's hand. 

"Be right back," he said and started walking away with Mary. 

You felt Roberta's gaze immediately on you, as if observing you. You turned to her. "So, you new here?" she asked.

"Yeah, just moved in," you replied. "I bet you know everyone far better than I do," you smiled. You didn't know her relationship with Frank and Mary, but you were too embarrassed to ask. 

Roberta seemed to have picked up on it though, because the next thing she said was "When Frank moved in here, he didn't even have Mary. I live in a house across the street. I've always been friends with Frank, but when he needed to take care of his niece, I knew he needed a serious ass-kicking so he'd do it right," she chuckled. "but I think between the two of us, Mary came out great," she smiled fondly. 

"She seems wonderful," you agreed, thankful for her silent understanding of your cluelessness about the situation. 

Frank came back inside, closing the door behind him. "Thanks again for watching her Roberta," he said, "I'm sure you two got acquainted already," he added while pouring you a cup of coffee. 

You accepted the coffee gratefully, blowing on it slightly before taking a sip. Roberta was leaving to go about her day, so only you and Frank were left. You took in the house, and while it was a little messy, it radiated the happiness of a home. 

"So," Frank started, "I assume you've wondered about Mary… I'm her uncle, but her parents are gone." 

"It's okay," you hurriedly said, "Roberta explained a little, I get it."

"Of course she did," he chuckled. "Well then, tell me about yourself," he said.

And you did. You told him about your new job and your aspiration to become an author, even a bit about your family back home. He was easy to talk to, and in return told you more about Mary, that she was gifted, about life in the neighborhood. Before you noticed it, a few hours passed by. 

"Oh, look at the time! I'm so sorry, you probably have better things to do than sit here and talk to me, I can go if you want to," you rambled on before Frank reached forward and put his hand on your knee to stop you. You couldn't say you felt a jolt of electricity, because you weren't that cliché, but the warmth of his hand splayed on your knee did funny things to your stomach. 

His sincere eyes met yours when he said, "I work down at the docks, I repair boats, so I'm kinda freelancing, I can work whenever I feel like it. If you want though, you can come see the docks with me. You haven't been there yet, right?"

You shook your head, "I'd love to," you replied. 

You drove to the docks, getting out of the car and squinting your eyes at the bright late morning sun. Frank led you between a maze of boats and buildings until you reached the shed where he kept his tools. You sat down on a table and looked around, taking in your surroundings while Frank tidied up some stuff in a hurry.

"It's a cool place," you said, still roaming your eyes so you wouldn't have to meet his. Or more accurately, so you wouldn't let them linger on his arms, or shoulders, or face. You know, the normal things that you'd find insanely attractive about someone you've known for less than a week. Everything's totally under control.

"So, have you ever tried fixing a motorboat?" Frank smiled.

You raised your eyebrow at him. "I think you know the answer to that is a definite no," you chuckled. 

"Well, why don't you try it?" Frank suggested, "These aren't much use when they're sitting around here," he gestured at the tools. " if I'm here I might as well do some work. Wanna come?" 

"Sure, why not," you jumped down from the table and made your way to follow Frank through the door and back into the summer heat. He led your way to a small boat. When you got closer you could see the engine, the part that was covering it propped nearby to allow access to the mechanics of the ship. You both made your way on it and Frank crouched down and peered down at the engine.

"Okay, you wanna come see this?" he said and you came closer, crouching down next to him. He started explaining something about which part exactly is damaged, but you were too busy staring at his lips to really register what he was saying. Besides, you excused to yourself, it's not like I would've understood even if I was listening.

"So, what do you need to do to fix it?" you asked, breaking from your trance-like state and hurriedly changing the subject before he would realize you weren't paying attention. Or even more humiliating, realize what you were paying attention to.

He took a screwdriver and extended it to you. "For starters, I gotta open it up, which is the easy part so you can help," he smirked. 

You rolled your eyes but took the screwdriver from his hand, unscrewing where he showed you. You tried to focus on the job at hand, but honestly, you were kinda thinking about how much you wanted to screw him. Okay, chill the fuck out, you chastised yourself, he has a kid to worry about. And is way out of your league. 

For the next hour or so you and Frank, or mostly Frank, worked away at the engine. You actually managed to keep up with most of his explanations, despite the closeness between the two of you feeling both consuming and thrilling. The repairing the boat part was fine, and it was great to get some experience with something new, but it couldn't compare to the rush of your heartbeat every time Frank's arm brushed against you, or he'd lean into you a little, or grab your hand in his and show you how to properly do something. 

 Frank fixed one last thing and then looked up at you with a soft smile, "that's it," he said.

"I did it!" you exclaimed. "Wow, do you think I should start doing this as my job? I mean, I'm really good," you both laughed. 

"Yeah, sure," he said, "and you could fix some crankshafts and bearings," he smiled.

"Okay, yeah, we get it, I don't even know enough about boats to tell if these are actual boat parts," you laughed. 

"You wanna maybe get some lunch after all your hard work?" he gave you a lopsided grin and you accepted his invitation.

You were sitting at a small restaurant, enjoying your food, when you suddenly realized, "Hey, shouldn't you pick Mary up from school or something?" you frowned a little.

"Oh, no, Roberta wanted to have her for the night, so she's gonna take her," he said.

"So, Roberta is like a mother figure for Mary?" you asked tentatively. 

"I wouldn't say that, she's more of an aunt," Frank answered with a smile. "I guess the mother figure part is reserved for whoever I marry or something," he shrugged.

"Okay, maybe I'm prying a bit, but why don't you find someone? I mean, it doesn't seem too hard since you're so dreamy," you said, and then closed your mouth immediately. Please make the ground swallow me right now.

"Oh god, did I say that out loud?" you said and chuckled in an attempt to mask your embarrassment. "Whatever, ignore me, I'm just nosy and—"

"No, don't retract that," Frank smiled, his eyes glinting, "it's not every day you get such a compliment from a cute girl," he smiled timidly, blushing a little, but kept his eyes on you. 

"Thanks," you said, smiling. He was just being nice. You got through the rest of your lunch, ignoring the subject completely. You were glad he took it in good humor. Great, we're adults. We can move past that. 

You drove back into the neighborhood and stopped next to your houses. You got out of the car, stopping next to Frank. 

"Thanks for today," you said. "I had a great time," you continued and almost started walking away until Frank caught you by your wrist, effectively stopping you. You turned around; a questioning look on your face.

"You know I meant what I said at lunch, right?" he asked, smiling. "I'd love to take you out on an actual date sometime. You know, if you actually meant what you said at lunch," he smirked a little.

"I did," you admitted softly. "I'd love to go out sometime."

"Great," he said. "that means I can do what I wanted to do all day," he said. Before you could ask what that was, he closed the distance between you and attached his lips to yours. You brought your arms to wrap around his neck while his tongue slipped into your mouth. You explored each other's mouths eagerly, your hands tangling in the back of his hair while he pushed you against the car, hands exploring with passion.

When you pulled apart after what felt like forever but was simultaneously too short a time, you spoke. "So," you panted, "Mary's at Roberta's you say?"

"I like the way you think," he smirked and took your hand, leading you into the house with him.

Once inside, Frank led you to the bedroom. He was quick to recapture your mouth with his, his warm hands sneaking under your shirt, lifting it above your head, and tossing it aside. He stopped to marvel at you before you quickly closed the distance once more, pushing your hips against him a little before pulling off his shirt, moving to lick and suck down his chest and abs.

You reached his pants and made quick work of his belt, pulling his pants down with his boxers and freeing his already hard length. You spit in your hand before stroking him, and even watching him get hard made you wet with anticipation. You looked up at him, and maintaining eye contact you wrapped your lips around him, taking him into your mouth with greed. You started swirling your tongue around him and he groaned, thrusting into your mouth. You nearly gagged but you continued your ministrations, starting to hollow your cheeks and suck him for all it's worth. 

He put his hand on the back of your head, pulling you away and you stood back up. "As much as I'm enjoying this," he rasped, "you gotta get in on the fun." He attached his lips to your neck, sucking at your pulse point as you moaned. He reached to take off your pants and you undid your bra, tossing it across the room as well.

"Now we're even," he breathed against your ear, his hand trailing down before pushing a finger into you, smirking at the sensation of your wetness. You clenched around his finger, holding onto his shoulders while your breathing hitched. He inserted a second finger in and continued to finger you in a slow, torturous pace until you finally had it. You left open-mouthed kisses along his neck and whispered in his ear. "Frank," you moaned at his thumb reaching your clit, "I need you."

He didn't need to be told twice, pulling his fingers out of you and swiftly tossing you on the bed, hovering above you before capturing your lips in a thorough kiss before lining himself up with your entrance and pushing into you, the stretch causing you to moan and grab onto his back. 

He started moving and you dug your fingers into his back, panting at the feeling of him reaching your g-spot. The feeling of him on top of you, inside of you, was tenfold more intense than what you felt before on the boat, and you bucked your hips against him at the thought. He sensed your need and picked your legs up. You wrapped them around his waist and he started going faster, the change of pace and angle quickly pushing you both over the edge. 

Later you laid in his bed, the sheets messed around you, listening to the far-off sounds of the evening from outside. You absentmindedly moved your fingers along his chest, drawing the pattern of a heart over and over again, like a schoolgirl in a notebook. He said nothing, just took your hand in his, brought it up to his mouth and kissed it. 

"We should probably get some dinner," he said and you hummed in agreement. "Maybe I could take you out on that date?" he smiled.

As if on cue, your stomach grumbled and you both laughed.

"Let's go dreamboat," you sassed and got up to search for your clothes.

Some months later you celebrated Mary's birthday. You had a little party at home for her and some friends, which you helped organize. By now you were a part of Mary's life, and you couldn't be happier about it.

Frank came up to you, smiling. "I think we threw a pretty great party," he said.

"I do too. Mary seems like she's enjoying herself." You smiled at the sight of her playing with her friends.

"She is," Frank said. "And it's thanks to… me. Dreamy Frank at it again!" he said and you both burst out into laughter. 

"God, you're really never gonna let me live that down will you?"

"Well, you're cute, so maybe you still stand a chance," he winked and you both laughed. He went to help the girls with their game and Roberta came up and stood next to you. "You know," she said, "besides Mary, he never laughs with anyone like that. Certainly not an adult," she smiled and you smiled at her as well, catching Frank lifting Mary in his arms from the corner of your eye. "Well," she continued, "I guess that's how it is with family." 

That is how it was. You've never felt happier than in the moments you spent with Frank and Mary. You love them both dearly. To think you found your family when you were looking for a job! Well, life's funny like that sometimes. And you wouldn't have it any other way. 

hope you enjoyed! this was supposed to be fluffy but... oh well best of both worlds

Chris Taglist: @swatson06 @horny-nd-bored​ @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds​ @phoebe-21-99 @wintersoldierslut​ @iceebabies​ @wanessalopesueiros @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree​ @kaitcordx25 @bequeening​ @steve-barry-damon-logan​ @itscrazycherryblossomcollection​ @hollandxmarvel​ @darkwitchfromthesouth @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal

if you wanna join / be removed from the taglist, comment/message me! this is a taglist for Chris and his characters. much love <3

[vs-redemption]

Hi, its me! Im sorry for bothering you! How would Bakugou, Aizawa, and Iida react if some random kid, who had their eyes but different hair, who looks homeless and IS homeless, knockef on their door and said 'hey, do you know *insert womans name*? Youre my dad apparently' and it turns iut it was a woman they had a flimg with, who left them, and went on to abusr their kid? Like severely? Its just me projecting lol. Im so sorry have a great day!

A/N: I noticed that @madkaleidoscope got almost the same request while going through the my hero tags, so please check out their post HERE for another take on the same idea.

A Surprise Meeting (Bakugo, Iida, and Aizawa meet their abused child)

You can read the same scenario for Todoroki and Dabi HERE You can read the same scenario for Hawks, Fatgum, and Shigaraki Here

Warning:⚠️Mentions of child abuse and homelessness. Also, swearing for Bakugo!⚠️

Bakugo

“What the hell do you mean they were offended?” Bakugo growls at his manager through the phone propped up on his shoulder as he aggressively chops up vegetables for the stew he was making. “Instead of being grateful that I saved their asses, they decided to file a complaint against me huh?”

The underpaid person on the other end launches into an explanation about why a top ranked pro hero should avoid yelling out expletives while fighting villains in front of a crowd of civilians. Apparently it wasn’t an appropriate way to behave in front of impressionable children and elderly folks. Bakugo rolled his eyes as he continued cooking. He’d heard this spiel a hundred times before. He’d honestly worked hard over the years to improve the way he directly interacted with the innocent people he fought to protect every day, but he couldn’t help but get a little overzealous in the moment when taking down bad guys.

Bakugo clicked his tongue in annoyance when his doorbell suddenly rang. He wiped his hands off on a towel before going to tell off whoever it was that was interrupting his very limited free time. It was bad enough he was already getting an earful from his manger while he was trying to relax. He ripped open the door and felt a hint of surprise when he had to lower his angry red eyes to find the unexpected visitor. It was a little girl.

“What the hell?” Bakugo leaned out of the doorway a bit to look for an adult that might be accompanying the child but she seemed to be all alone. His manager paused their lecture to ask if he was all right. “Yeah, but I’m going to have to call you back,” Bakugo hangs up the phone and looks back at the little girl who was glaring up at him with familiar red eyes. Her long dark hair was dirty and matted. She had scrapes and bruises all over her arms and face.

“Do you need help or something?” Bakugo asks awkwardly as he tries to slip into his comforting hero voice. “Where are your parents?”

“Mommy left and didn’t come back,” the little girl scowls and crosses her arms. She then tells Bakugo her mother’s name, causing the man to freeze up in shock at the implication. “She said you were my daddy.” Bakugo just stands speechless for a few moments as his brain tries to catch up with what he’d just heard. He knew the girl’s mom, but he hadn’t seen her in about four years. They’d had a bit of a summer romance right at the beginning of his hero career before she’d suddenly disappeared, never to be heard from again.

Bakugo lets his eyes scan over the little girl once more. He couldn’t deny she had his eyes and his scowl. He felt irritated that his summer fling hadn’t even had the decency to tell him she’d gotten pregnant. He squats down to look more closely at the dirt and injuries all over the girl’s body.

“Who did this to you?” he asks, trying to keep the gruffness from his voice. Some emotion cracks through the little girl’s false bravado then and she looks down at her bare feet shyly.

“Mommy…” she whispers. Bakugo takes a deep breath to calm the rage that boiled up inside him and offers a hand to the little girl.

“Mommy left me too,” he confesses. “But she’s not going to hurt either of us ever again, okay?” The little girl looks up at her dad, a tentative hope blossoming in her eyes. Bakugo knew this was going to impact his life in a huge way, but at the moment he only cared about getting to know his daughter and making up for lost time. “Are you hungry?” The little girl nods her head eagerly and he leads her into his apartment. He would get her cleaned up and fed before getting started on all the legal stuff he’d undoubtedly have to endure before she could really be his daughter completely. His mind was already coming up with ways to fit parenting into his work schedule though, and he found himself looking forward to spending as much time with his little girl as possible.

Iida

Iida assumed he was going to have another normal morning as he sat at his desk, looking over his patrol route for the day. He’d taken over his family’s hero agency not too long ago, but he was already used to the daily routine. All the experiences he’d lived through during high school, not to mention growing up in a family of heroes, had prepared him for most scenarios he would encounter as a pro. He had no reason to suspect that anything out of the ordinary would happen, even as he heard the knock on his office door.

“Come in,” he calls out while standing up to start putting on his hero costume. The door blasts open and a young girl runs into the room.

“Daddy!” she shouts as she runs right up to him and throws her arms around his waist. Iida looks down at the girl in shock before glancing towards the door where one of his sidekicks stood looking as confused as he felt.

“Sorry for the intrusion,” the sidekick says a bit awkwardly. “One of the interns found her wandering outside. She was asking people to help her find you, her dad.”

Iida wanted to deny the claim immediately. He would definitely know if he had a child, especially one who looked to be around eight years old. The idea became a lot less preposterous as he looked back down at the girl. Her hair color was as white as snow, a complete contrast to his dark blue. The thing that gave him pause were the two legs sticking out from under the dirty skirt the girl was wearing. Her legs looked skinny, too skinny, aside from her calves which had tiny exhaust pipes sticking out of them. The girl looks up at him after a moment to meet his gaze. His breathe catches in his throat at her blue eyes and checkmark shaped eyebrows that were iconic to the Iida family.

“Uh, thank you,” Iida felt flustered as he looks back at his sidekick who was blatantly starting at him in shock. “I’ll handle this from here. Do you mind asking someone to take over my patrol?” The sidekick accepts the job and hurries off, leaving Iida alone with the girl. Part of him felt really embarrassed that this had happened in front of his coworkers. He couldn’t imagine what they must think of him now. He definitely didn’t seem like the type to be involved with something that could be perceived as scandalous.

“What is your mother’s name?” Iida asks, even though he was sure he already knew. The list of possibilities was very small. The little girl goes up on her tiptoes and Iida bends down to meet her so she can whisper in his ear. He sighs heavily at the name that falls from her lips. It was just further confirmation that this wasn’t some crazy misunderstanding. The information settles into his mind. He was a father.

“Please don’t make me go back to her though,” the girl’s eyes brim with tears as she searches Iida’s face for comfort. “She’s scary.” Iida understood how the girl felt. If given the option, he would choose never to see that woman again either. She had only dated him for a brief time, pretending to be in love with him in order to take advantage of his fame until she found someone higher up in the ranks to seduce. He had been so shocked and heart broken when she’d left him so suddenly, but now there was no way to hide from that mistake of his past.

“Why do you say she’s scary?” Iida asks while putting a hand on the girl’s shoulder. She winces and flinches away from his touch. He narrows his eyes in concern and asks her to roll up her sleeves. His heart fills with sadness at the welts marring her frail arms. “I see,” he frowns. “I promise you won’t have to see her again if you don’t want to, but can you tell me where she lives?”

“I don’t know. We always have to sleep outside,” the girl explains warily, painting a rather sad image of her life.

“Well that just won’t do,” he pats her on the head. “I’m going to make sure you have a comfy, warm bed to sleep in from now on.” The girl’s face lights up happily and she hugs Iida even tighter. The shame he’d felt initially was gone now, replaced by a determination to provide his daughter with the best life possible.

Aizawa

Between all his hero work and being a full time teacher, Aizawa’s opportunities to simply sleep for a couple consecutive hours were few and far between. He took any chance he could to just shut his eyes and rest for a while. Tonight he’d hoped to get a decent amount of sleep in before having to wake up at the crack of dawn to attend a UA staff meeting. However, it seemed fate had other plans for him.

It was around one in the morning when a knock on his front door pulled him from the depths of his much needed slumber. He rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes as he rolled out of bed, not even having the energy to be annoyed. “Who is it?” He asks while putting on his slippers and shuffling over to the door. There was no answer, so he pressed his face up to the peep hole. He let out a groan when he saw a random kid standing outside. If this was some kind of prank, he wasn’t sure he had the strength of mind to deal with it at this hour. He already put up with a whole class of teenagers every day who drained him of every drop of patience he had.

“Can I help you?” Aizawa mumbles after opening the door. The young boy in front of him looked to be about thirteen years old. The ends of his dark burgundy hair were frayed and had been cut sloppily as if he’d done it himself. He had outgrown his clothes a while ago, and they appeared uncomfortably small on his skinny frame. The poor kid looked extremely dirty and smelled even worse.

“Do you know this woman?” the haggard boy holds out an old photograph of a person Aizawa recognized immediately. It had been a very long time, but he’d never forget the face of the first woman he’d ever been with. He’d been so young and naïve at the time, and he still felt bitter toward the friend who’d set him up with a woman with such an atrocious personality. Aizawa knew right then and there that he wasn’t going to be getting back to sleep anytime soon.

“This is my mother,” the boy states the obvious fact. “And apparently you’re my dad.” Aizawa had no reason not to believe him as he looked into the boy’s tired eyes that matched his own. It was clear that life had not been kind to the kid so far.

“Come on in,” Aizawa invites his son inside, deciding to wait to involve the proper authorities until morning. “You can take a hot shower, and I think I have some leftovers we can heat up.”

“A shower?” the boy looked overwhelmed, as if the promise of a shower was more than he’d ever dared to hope for. Aizawa was growing more concerned with each passing second.

“Where is your mother now?” He asks and the boy shrugs.

“I haven’t seen her in a couple weeks,” he states as if that were normal. “I think she met some new guy.” That was enough to put Aizawa’s teeth on edge.

“Where have you been staying then?” he asks.

“Wherever I can,” the boy replies, sounding embarrassed. “Park benches, bus stops, train stations…” Aizawa was horrified. What kind of person left their child to survive in those conditions? Why hadn’t she ever reached out to him for help?

“What are these?” Aizawa reaches out to snatch up the boys arm. Now that he was inside where the lighting was better, he could see strange scars and scabs covering his skin.

“Cigarette burns,” the boy pulls his arm away and averts his eyes. “Mom thought it would make people more willing to help when I had to beg for money.” Aizawa felt his eyes fill with tears at the words, and he doesn’t think twice before pulling his son into his arms. The boy returns the embrace, clinging to Aizawa as if he feared the man might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

“What’s going to happen now?” the boy asks fearfully after he calms down a bit.

“You’re more than welcome to stay with me,” Aizawa finds himself accepting the role of father rather quickly. He was already responsible for so many kids already, he didn’t see the harm in adding one more to the list. “If that’s something you’re comfortable with.”

“Yes, please!” The boy nods his head, looking ecstatic as he wiped away his tears. Aizawa nods his head and pats his son on the shoulder.

“Well then kid,” he says with a small smile. “Welcome home.”

------

Aizawa Tag List:  @clovertitan  @raine-needs-help @lucacangettathisass @lea2107-foxsin @tiaraowens

[constantlyunlightening]

Bedtime

Kinktober Day 5: Orgasm Denial w/ Bakugo Katsuki

Other kinks/Trigger warnings: edging, there’s some minor degradation but nothing too heavy

I got partway through a Monoma fic yesterday and suddenly, this explosive jerk decided to consume my thoughts. I spent my entire shift at work going absolutely feral after working on this.

Katsuki Bakugo owns my ass.

Disclaimers: Read/interact only if you’re 18+. Characters are all 20+

Rules played a pretty big part in your relationship with Katsuki. Growing up training to be the best hero meant he had always lived under a tight set of guidelines. Guidelines of what and how much to eat, how much to exercise, how much to rest, when to go to bed. There were routines - patterns set to benefit the self as much as possible. Becoming an adult didn't mean losing those patterns, it just meant adjusting them. They had adapted and could be flexible when called for but they still existed. They existed for his benefit which is why he was such a stickler for his rules. He may refuse to watch his mouth, he may kick his feet up on tables and he may choose to ignore any societal rules about how to behave in a public area, but lord have mercy on the soul that tries to throw a wrench in Katsuki's bedtime. 

That included you.

He took you as a partner but that didn't mean his own schedule was going to bend all too much. In fact, after you two had really become close, he started to try pushing those morals on you. In typical Bakugo fashion, he was a bit of an asshole about it - and really pushy. He'd try and drag you along to his routines - his wake up times, his eating times and his workouts.

At first, you gave a lot of push back. He was your partner, not your baby sitter. Who was he to tell you what to eat? When you had to go to bed? You butting your head back at him was enough to get him to start a conversation with you about the whole thing. It was a long one but it boiled down to Katsuki wanting the very best for you and having those sort of healthy routines was something that would help you in the long run. He cared about you and this was one of his ways to show it, which was sweet, but you had to remind him that you had your own automony and he couldn't expect you to change your lifestyle overnight (or at all, if you didn't want to).

More talking and you eventually decided there wasn't any harm in working to build a healthier routine that you were okay with. Katsuki was allowed to help you but he wasn't allowed to force any sort of rules on you that you didn't want and in return, you weren't going to fuck up his routine either. 

It seemed fair enough and, honestly, setting a routine had helped you out in a lot of ways but as of recently, one specific rule had gotten you bent out of shape.

Fucking bedtime.

Sure, your new sleep pattern was healthy and left you with a lot more energy but with Katsuki's current hero schedule, he was rarely ever home before bedtime and - damnit, you had needs. You spent the last week and a half just so horny you could hardly stand it. And then Katsuki wouldn't get home until 15 minutes before bedtime which gave him just enough time to shower and go right to bed. You told him how you were feeling a few times but he would, as politely as he could, tell you to "fuck yourself if it's that bad" before tossing you a vibrator out of the night stand and promptly burying himself under the blankets. 

Fates forbid you mess with his damn bed time. 

Eventually a few nights of whining had him promising you the next time he got home with time to spare he would hit it until you were crying. 

Which is why today, when he returned home an hour and a half before bedtime, you had hopped on him as fast as your legs could move you. He didn't protest as you dropped him to the bed and climbed onto his dick.

He let you work for your own pleasure in this position, giving you the opportunity to stretch yourself out and get warmed up. He let you use him and seek out your own ecstasy on top which you were more than happy to do… at least until he stopped you right when you were getting to the best part. His hands grabbed at your hips and with strength that owned up to the hero's reputation, he tossed you onto your back on the bed. You had instantly shouted your protest, but he was repositioning you by your ankles into a mating press before you could physically do anything in retribution. The plunge of his cock into your quivering pussy quelled any other words you had wanted to say.

"You've been on my case all week, dumbass. You're not allowed to finish yet," he growled, a feral gleam in his eyes as he grinned at you. He leaned forward, putting a little bit of pressure down on your legs to  stretch you out under his thrusting. "If you're gonna throw a tantrum, you better be aiming to make it worth your while. I get you wanna be a slut, but you gotta be smarter than that." His taunts just served in making you clench down on him like a vice grip, your moans echoing out into the room.

You were smart but Katsuki could make you so dumb.

Unfortunately for you, this position ended the same as the prior. In the same pattern as the first, he waited until your orgasm was just on the precipice and that's when he would yank out of you to the next position -which this time, involved him spooning you and pushing into you from behind.

And then again. Climb and climb and then right before the high, it was pull out, reposition and restart. He went from spooning you to straddling one of your legs while propping your other in the air. From that to laying you down completely flat and reentering. Each and every new position sent a wave of frustration through you as he ripped away that last wave of pleasure from you. Never quite let you reach your tipping point. By the time he had you on your knees with your ass up in your air and your head in the mattress, tears were welling up in your eyes from the very second his cock rocketed down. 

"Oi." Another growl and you felt a large hand fist your hair. He gave a sharp yank and he was dragging your upper half off the bed, pressing your back into his chest and not missing a beat of his cock driving into your body. "Are you crying? You've been asking me to fuck you every single night and now that you got what you want, you're crying. You're not backing out, are you?"

The handle he had made out of your hair stung enough to make your tears fully flow out and you gave a whiney sob as your hands went back, trying to grip onto Katsuki anyway you could. 

"N-nooo." There was an answer between your whimpering cries as his free hand snaked between your thighs and started to slowly play with your folds, but purposefully missing that extra sensitive bundle of nerves. "Katsuki, please, lemme cum-"

"That's right. No stopping now. Tough it out princess. You asked for this." There was an arrogance in your voice that would have pissed you off if you weren't so overcome with the urge to cum. He just had to touch you a little harder, fuck you at a slightly different angle. And he knew that - he had to. He knew every single thing about your body so why wasn't he letting you orgasm? You were so fucking close but this time he pushed in deep enough to let his tip hit your cervix and he froze. You didn't bother to contain the sob that escaped you.

"Oh, yeah. You asked, didn't you? I'm doing you a favor, aren't I? I'm helping you out by pounding you into a crying mess. You should be thanking me," he declared cockily, slowly pulling his hips back while he kept your squirmy, needy cunt in the air. And just as only his tip was breeched inside you, he snapped his hips forward, burying all the way inside you and earning another unabashed sob. "So?" His voice was hot on your ear as he nipped at it, making you squeeze around him tighter in dumb, helpless lust. "Where are your fucking manners? Better start saying thank you."

Too fucked out to care about your dignity, you obliged immediately, focused on the reward you wanted so so badly. "Th-thank you-" his hips pushed up once. "Thank you-" another thrust. "Thank you!" And another "Thankyouthankyouthankyou- ohmigod- thankyou-" each babbled out plea earned you more movement, each one faster and feral than the last and before you knew it, he was back to forcing your head down onto the mattress, using it as leverage as he fucked you with enough force to leave your cunt feeling like it was on fire. But pain or pleasure, you were too targeted on the end result to care. The logical side of your mind was long gone.

You were so far gone, you didn't hear the beeping of an alarm somewhere in the background.

At least not until, once again, Katsukis dick was pulled out of you and you were left with nothing but your own unbearably pent up energy. But you weren't manhandled and contorted into another shape this time. Instead, this time you felt something hot and sticky spurt out across your back. Had he just- 

You choked, desperately trying to scramble to see what exactly he was doing - what he had done. Why he had stopped! But before you could turn to look, he had plopped down to his side and was tugging you up against his chest. You finally took note of the annoyingly loud buzzing of an alarm on your nightstand, but it didn't really register with you as to what it was. "What the fuck?" You practically bawled as you struggled in his strong grip, squirming like if you could move enough, you'd be impaled on his dick again. 

"I set an alarm for when it was time for bed dumb ass." Your blood boiled even in your pathetic, quivering state. "Guess you should have came faster." You wanted to scream. You almost did but it broke with the way your tears made you choke up. He had timed that! He did that on purpose! He not only edged you this entire time only to rip away your orgasm at the last second, but he had pulled out and came on you! You were going to lose your mind. You felt feral in his grasp as he kept you in place, only letting one arm escape you for a second so he could bang on the alarm to stop blaring. You wanted to argue, shout, scream - anything - but having that much pro hero dick making a mess of your insides without actually accomplishing anything left you without the brain power to form anything beyond incoherent whines and cries.

Kisses that were meant to soothe you as they trailed over your neck didn't do much this time, but Katsuki littered a few of them anyway. He wasn't even really trying to fool you that he was being nice. You could feel his smirk against your flesh. "Quit shaking so much. After how long we just went, if I stick it back in you're going to be whining about how bad it hurts," he declared, which wasn't untrue - your almost-high was starting to wind down and you felt nothing but uncomfortable. "Go to bed. I took off tomorrow morning so i'll let you cum as much as you want when you wake up."

He paused as he dragged the blanket over you, ignoring your babbling whimpers, as he pulled back just enough to look at you with a cocky smirk. "As long as you actually get your ass up on time."

[olivinesea]

Worth the Keeping

a/n: Damn this was a slow one. Brought to you by the way asphalt looks under streetlights and me having been a badly behaved teenage drunk. It’s long but there’s no way around it. TW abuse, nothing wild tho. One bad slur, I’m sorry. Settle in for some in depth Hotch thoughts. ~6k

Young Hotch, young Haley. Bittersweet.

He’s never thought much about his own life, never felt that it carried much importance. Certainly the people in his home did not value it. He thinks perhaps his mother did at one point but she is too caught up in her own worries and the care of Sean to devote any attention to him. Sometimes she even seems angry if he appears to need help. So he makes sure never to need it. He learns how to splint broken fingers and reset dislocated joints, how butterfly bandages and superglue were all that was needed to close most wounds. He thinks, when he is encouraged to imagine the future by naively optimistic teachers, that perhaps he will be an EMT since he’s become so good at triage. He’s met a few EMTs, the rare times when an ambulance was necessary, the threat to life too immediate to ignore. They usually seem like nice, if a little intense, people.

Once, when he was only five, he had experienced anaphylaxis after being stung by a bee. He’d already learned not to make a big deal out of life’s little injuries. So when the bee stings him in the garden, he knows not to say anything. It is his fault anyway, it is always his fault. He sucks on the skin around the sting, anything to take away the fiery sensation he is feeling. He has never been stung by a bee before, had no idea what was going to happen as he grabbed at the little buzzing creatures flying busily around his mother’s flower garden. It turned out, bees did not appreciate chubby hands grasping at them and one made a point of letting him know.

He creeps back to the house guiltily, thinking of the ice in the freezer, maybe he could get some of that. Sometimes his mother would bring him ice wrapped in a towel to place over the repercussions of his childish transgressions, still reaching for love he couldn’t earn. It was always too cold, biting in a way that made the injuries pulse. But he accepted it because it meant that his mother was sitting near him, that he wasn’t alone for a little while. This only reinforced his lessons that care was painful. Wasn’t it better to have someone care so much it hurt than to have no one to care at all? She promised him that’s all it was, it was only because they cared that these things happened. It was only that he was still learning.

But right now, the bee sting is burning a hole in his hand and he thinks maybe the ice could at least distract him from that pain. He slips silently into the house, his eyes adjusting slowly to the dark interior after the bright summer sun. He is breathing hard, but each breath seems to draw in less air. Maybe he is afraid. He knows fear, is intimately familiar with the feeling. He knows it better than most five year olds do, who only experience fear on a basic level—sometimes practical: fires burn, falling from high places is dangerous; sometimes fantastical: what if there are dragons in the woods or ghosts in the attic. Fear was a means to keep you safe but when you are a child there are supposed to be adults helping keep you safe as well. A child’s fear shouldn’t have to be so specific. Aaron is afraid of slammed doors and broken glass and dirt tracked in on his shoes. He is afraid of storms that brew in bottles of dark liquid and unleash torrential outpourings of disgust.

In this moment he is afraid, not of a monster, but of a person who might be watching him from the shadows of the living room. He is too young to understand schedules and time, he doesn’t know his greatest fear is otherwise occupied. Instead, he lets fear be the reason for his change in breathing. He makes it to the kitchen with its big windows and bright lighting, only to find his hand has grown, comically large and heavy, the skin swollen and stretched. Breathing feels like trying to drag air through a wet towel. He feels his heart racing as the fear closes in but still stays quiet. He probably wouldn’t be able to make much noise if he tried but he doesn’t want to find out who else is inside the house at the moment.

Through the small luck allotted him, his mother comes in minutes later to find him curled on the kitchen floor, skin around his mouth a pale blue, his eyes closed in concentration, trying to will air through his constricted windpipe. She is about to scold him, to tell him to stop playing when she sees his hand, all doughy pink and covered in hives that travel up his arm to his thin chest. She rushes to the phone to call 911. She’s never been more scared, both that her son might die and that her husband might find out how careless they’d both been.

Ambulances weren’t easy to hide, drew too much attention, but something tells her there isn’t time for a different choice. The EMTs assure her she had done the right thing, quickly setting to work administering epinephrine and monitoring Aaron’s oxygen levels. If he seems rather quiet and withdrawn for a five year old, he had just gone through a dramatic, life threatening experience. It would cause anyone to sink into a bit of shock. They don’t notice the nervous looks exchanged between mother and son, both their eyes darting to the long driveway every so often, looking out for incoming danger. When they tell her the boy needs to be taken to the hospital for further care she visibly balks.

“But he seems fine now, he’s doing better right?”

The child in question is sitting in the open back of the ambulance, thin legs dangling, scum from leftover bandaid adhesive outlining skinned knees. He is breathing carefully into a mask that another medic holds for him. His hand is cradled in his lap, no longer outlandishly large but still misshapen. He looks fragile and she longs to pull him away, out of the hands of these strangers, who may only be trying to help but don’t realize how their help might have consequences. She wants them to leave, wants the house to return to the state it was in this morning when her husband left for the day, so he wouldn’t see anything as out of place, wouldn’t have to know about the day’s events.

She is worried about talk in the neighborhood, about the way her front lawn has been overrun by busy people in uniform, doing what she can’t imagine. But it was a future worry; she was so good at keeping secrets surely this was one she could fit in somewhere. If only she can keep it contained to this moment, prevent it from spreading.

“He is, but it’s important that he go. There could be a secondary reaction.”

Her arms are crossed and she rubs her index finger across her bottom lip absently as she tries to think quickly. Victor will be home soon, he would be disturbed to find them gone. She doesn’t think there will be any way to hide this if they went to the hospital. Too many people will see, there will be no way to lie away their absence. But if they didn’t go now and Aaron got worse, she couldn’t very well call the emergency services a second time. She looks at him again. He is now staring down at the ground, swinging his little legs back and forth. She hates that she has to make a decision like this. She hates how there were likely no good outcomes no matter what she chooses. She pinches her lip between her fingernails for a moment then sighs as she gives in.

“Ok, let’s go. I just need to call my husband first.”

*

It was only the presence of the hospital staff that stops him from strangling both mother and son when he receives the bill. Aaron shrinks against his mother’s side as his father thanks the doctor with a tight voice before turning and walking out of the building. His mother, nervous herself, is shivering, he can feel her body shake as he presses against her. She takes off on quick steps to follow his father from the building. She would have left him behind if he hadn’t been gripping tightly to her skirt, nearly dragging him off balance with her speed. They get into the car silently. Aaron climbs behind the passenger seat to the back and tries to melt into the corner. The air is snapping with electricity as a fast moving spring rainstorm darkens the sky around them. The tension makes him want to scream. He knows better.

“I’m sorry, there wasn’t time,” his mother starts, her voice embarrassingly plaintive.

"Shut up.”

Aaron’s eyes dart back and forth between his parents. He sees his mother hang her head, rounding her shoulders ever so slightly. He sees his father’s knuckles turn white as he grips the steering wheel. He knows this was his fault but he doesn’t know how to fix it. He opens his mouth to say something but right then lightening cracks across the sky in front of them and they are all dazed by the flash.

Later, after they get back to the house and Aaron is sent to his room, the crashes of thunder mingle with his father’s shouting, his mother’s cries. He shivers beneath his too thin blanket, his lungs still feel new and foreign. Like they have been scraped raw and newly exposed to their purpose of pulling oxygen into his small body. He has suspected it before but this experience has solidified in his mind that he shouldn’t be here, that his presence only causes distress. He knows his mother would be better off if he had died, he knows his father would be less angry about that than whatever humiliation he feels he’s just experienced at the hospital. For some reason, despite his wishes to the contrary, he only brings about waste and pain. He had only wanted to meet the tiny creatures, to see if their busy movements, their buzzing hearts matched his own.

*

As he gets older, he grows tired of the care, he wishes more and more to be ignored. If only his father cared less, he could fade into the wallpaper, disappear into the shadows of their house. If no one cares, he can’t disappoint with his shortcomings. He can just float around in a fog that softens the world around him, never caring too much about anything, never feeling that sting of caring. If he doesn’t care, nothing matters, nothing can touch him.

Aaron has completely accepted the fact of his own unimportance by the time he is a teenager. He does everything he can to blend into the background. To escape the notice of others because being noticed is never safe. It reminds people that he dares to take up space, dares to make use of resources better allocated to creatures more deserving, less hateful.

Something shifts once he hits puberty, a sort of recklessness sparks inside him. Though he is still careful to avoid the attentions of adults, he starts to bite back when other kids tease him. They had been teasing him his whole life. For his strange haircuts and too small or too large clothing. For never having new things. They told him he was dirty, they told him he was weird. All the usual small cruelties children hurl at one another.

Now that he is in high school and has gone through a growth spurt, not yet his full size but much larger than he had been, he has some power. He notices the way the other kids step back when he stands up quickly, only with the desire to run and hide, but he notices it nevertheless. I’ll remember that, he thinks as he walks, rather than runs, to escape from their taunts.

Part way into his freshman year he breaks someone’s nose. While not exactly justified it wasn’t unprovoked either. They had been picking at him throughout the day. Purposely running him into lockers, knocking over his lunch tray and pinching him as he walked by. There are so many of them and they are so quick about it he is never completely sure who is doing it. His irritation grows inside him such that he wouldn’t be surprised to see smoke drifting out of his ears. The pokes and jabs are bad enough on their own but what the other kids don’t know is that they are just layering over deeper bruises, ones he does his best to forget about. If he thinks about those too much he’d go crazy.

The older he gets the harder it is to hold together the fractured reality he lives inside of. The one where a man can be both a hero and a monster. He has known since he was little about the danger his father carries but as he got older and saw more of the world around him he has realized that this is not the same for everyone. And not only is it not the same, his experience is somehow invisible, inconceivable to all the eyes of his hometown. As an adult he will look back and realize that some people did know, they just didn’t do anything to help, for whatever complicated reasons adults tell themselves that they shouldn’t get involved in others’ business. Even if the cost is taken out of a child’s nightmares.

So when Luke Gatson pulls his too-long hair and calls him a fag at the end of the day, he’s had enough. He swings his fist blindly but with all the force of years of built up anger. He is surprisingly accurate, maybe having absorbed more knowledge of inflicting pain over the years than he realized. There is an audible crack as the other boy collapses on his knees, holding both hands over his bleeding nose. Aaron stares at him, hand still clenched in a fist, eyes burning. Luke’s friends crowd around him, glancing between the two, wondering if they are meant to get some sort of revenge for their friend. Aaron can see that they are surprised, probably the reason that they haven’t jumped him immediately. He also sees the tears on Luke’s face that he is trying to hide. That makes him feel bad and he loses any sense of the burning hatred that had taken over.

“Sorry, Luke,” he says sheepishly.

“Fuck you Hotchner,” Luke replies, scowling at him.

Aaron shrugs, he’s heard worse, and walks away toward home. As afternoon becomes evening, Aaron’s stomach is in knots over the thought that his father will find out what he’d done. He is sure the man will not be pleased about it. He is so anxious he can’t even pretend to eat what is in front of him at dinner, a frequent struggle that earns him glares from both parents. He can’t stop darting his eyes to the phone, waiting for it to ring and deliver his sentencing.

He is washing the dishes when it finally does and he nearly drops the soapy ceramic, startled by the sound. He forces himself to stay still, to keep doing what he is supposed to, maybe his mother will intercept it. But his mother is putting Sean to bed, only his father is downstairs and he can hear him grumbling about people’s lack of decency calling so late. Aaron can only make out muffled sounds from the other room as his father has a short exchange with whoever is on the other end. He hasn’t been able to move since the phone started ringing and his hands start to shake as he hears the small click of the receiver, the footsteps coming toward the kitchen. He carefully sets the plate in the sink but continues to grip the sponge like it might be some sort of shield. He feels his father’s presence behind him and slowly turns to face him.

Victor is looking at him curiously from the doorway, eyebrows pulled together, corners of his mouth drawn down slightly.

“You got in a fight.” It is not a question, he is not interested in the details or whether his son might have different information.

Internally Aaron panics, trying to think of a way to escape this situation. He’s had plenty of time to consider how his father would react and how he might possibly minimize the fallout. Outside he is perfectly still, eyes downcast, breathing measured. Maybe he should run. He hasn’t tried that since he was small, too small to understand there was nowhere to run to. Maybe he would be fast enough now. Then he hears the least expected sound. He has to look up to convince himself he is interpreting it correctly. His father is laughing. His eyes go wide with alarm, he can’t remember his father ever laughing before. Maybe this has unlocked some new level of anger.

“Must have been a weak little shit to get taken down by you,” he says.

Still in shock, Aaron has nothing to say. His dad rubs his face with his hand, a little chuckle escaping. He drops his hand and looks at Aaron.

“Never fucking do that again. You won’t like what happens after.” All humor gone, the stony glare reappears. With that he turns and walks away, his steps only slightly unsteady.

*

Despite knowing better Aaron gets into more fights and his father delivers on his promise. Rationally he knows he can stop this. Maybe he doesn’t always have control over what happens to him at home, but this, the fighting, is completely a choice. After the first incident a few other kids test him, seeing if his breaking Luke’s nose was only luck. They quickly discover that he is able to back up that first knock out. Aaron is a natural fighter. He is on the scrawny side but what he lacks in mass he makes up for in pure rage. After a few more black eyes and split lips, the other kids grow more cautious, give him space when they walk by. No one teases him anymore.

But those fights taught him something. He discovers he likes the experience of being on the attack rather than only receiving. He never fights back at home, it is unthinkable to try to defend himself against what comes at him there. But out here in the world, for a few moments, he becomes something else. He becomes electricity and thunder, the one operating the crane that swings the wrecking ball, demolishing years of pent up confusion with his fists. He starts fights now. It does’t matter that it means he goes home to a matching fist, a coordinating set of bruises. He would be going home to that anyway, wouldn’t he? The blood in his mouth tastes like winning.

A couple years into high school and this is all he is now. Something dark and dangerous, he walks through the hallways, glaring at others, raising his fists any time he can find an excuse. If people notice he has more bruises than ever before, dusky marks on his cheek, his neck, the angry red patches of skin exposed during scuffles, it only makes sense given how much he’s taken to fighting.

Sometimes he sees flashes of fear in their eyes as he gains the upper hand and for a split second he is remorseful, identifying with that fear. But then, just as quickly, he is angry again. Angry that this fear is so new to them when for him it’s been a close companion all his life. He resents their normalcy and their parents that scold and worry, making a big show of taking away privileges when they have to come to collect their misbehaving child from the principal’s office. His father never makes a big show, barely says anything at all, simply apologizing to the principal, promising he will talk it over with his son, will make sure he understands the gravity of the path he is heading down. He can’t look at his father during these meetings, afraid he might scream, if only to drown out the ringing in his ears.

One time it is his mother rather than his father picking him up after yet another fight and he makes the mistake of making eye contact with her. The tears are instantaneous. He brushes at his face roughly with the heels of his hands, but nothing he does can stop them. He is frightening to see cry, making the people around him very uncomfortable with the way he is completely silent. The principal doesn’t bother giving his mother the usual speech, only ushers them out the door, his mother offering a quiet thank you. Looking into her eyes had shown him that she knows, that she knows what is coming and she will do nothing to stop it.

She had given up on him when Sean was born, writing him off as a lost cause. She will give everything to Sean; if only she can keep him safe, she won’t be a total failure. She felt guilty at first, trying to reason that Aaron was old enough to take care of himself but the nagging feeling of abandoning her responsibility was hard to escape. As he grew older, however, he had become this stranger she no longer feels anything for but shame. She can’t wait for the day he is old enough to leave the house. She knows there will be no peace before then.

Aaron fights with a determination that reveals how little he takes into account his own safety. He’ll fight with anyone; bigger, older, more experienced, it doesn’t matter. He’s even started to pick fights with adults, daring them to react. Nothing anyone does can touch him. Without a sense of self, a drive for self preservation, there is no reason not to throw himself entirely into the burning of the world. He would deny it but his deepest secret is the hope that if he keeps at it, perhaps someone will notice, someone will care enough to tell him he is worth compassion. Every time he fights and no one asks why, it reinforces this idea: that he is worthless, just an embarrassment to minimize. So he fights harder. He doesn’t know if he is trying to prove them right or wrong.

He only slows down when his father breaks his wrist and threatens to send him away. Alone in his room, doing his best to immobilize the joint with an old brace, he cries, hot and painful tears. Not because of the injury but for how twisted he’s become, how the only comfort he has found has been in turning this brutality on others.

*

Wandering the halls after school one day, prolonging the time before he heads home in the rain, he hears singing. Mindlessly he walks toward it, curious who might be the owner of such light that they can spill it out of themselves in sound. He comes to an open door and finds clumps of students standing or sitting, all facing toward a makeshift stage. Standing alone at the front was the singer, her face as beautiful as her voice suggests. He is magnetized. Her song ends and he feels it like a loss, barely registering the exchange between the girl and the two adults in the room as they thank her and make some marks on a clipboard. Suddenly there are fingers snapping in his face and he glares down at their owner, pulling his injured wrist in against his chest, protecting it from whatever action he is going to take. When he finds a small freshman boy looking up at him with an expression not of fear, only interest, he is confused. He is not accustomed to anyone looking at him without some degree of anger.

“Are you here for auditions?” The boy seems a little exasperated, like he’s repeated the question dozens of times already.

Aaron blinks at him. Auditions? As he is trying to understand the question, another kid steps into the spot last occupied by the singing girl and says a few words before beginning to sing as well. He notes that they are good as well but nowhere near the sweetness he was drawn in by. He looks around the room trying to find the girl, he is fairly certain he’s seen her before, maybe in one of his English classes. He never paid much attention to the other kids outside of which ones might deserve a fight. He spots her in a corner whispering with another girl, ducking her head and smiling, playfully knocking her friend’s shoulder. The strange feeling in his chest is his heart melting. He looks back down when he feels a tug on his shirt sleeve. He is ready to bite the head off of this annoying child.

“There’s a spot left if you want to audition. You have something prepared right?”

Aaron Hotchner has nothing prepared, nothing in his life could have prepared him for this moment but he’d do anything to get closer to that smile. He nods.

“Sure.” He can barely get the word out, his throat is dry and raspy. The kid looks at him quizzically, Aaron almost laughs at the way one of his eyebrows rises up. He can already imagine him as a crinkled old man.

“You have something to sing?” he questions more directly, doubt clearly apparent.

Aaron shrugs, he can come up with something. On the better days, the spring and summer days, when the light gets longer and he can wander in the woods for hours, he sang with the birds. Singing was nothing new to him. Singing for other people though, he does’t like that idea at all if he lets himself think about it. But there is no time to think. He is giving his name and being jostled into the room. Before he has fully taken in his surroundings, his name is spoken with some confusion as he is called up to his turn.

One of the adults is his civics teacher from his freshman year. She frowns as she looked at him and he feels a wash of anxiety, remembering who he is, remembering he is not made for good things. He opens and closes his mouth but no sound comes out. The room is quiet and he can feel everyone’s eyes on him. He exhales, angry with himself, looking up to glare out at this roomful of people who’s only crime is agreeing with him that he is worthless. But he sees her again—she is smiling, barely, but it is enough.

He clears his throat and starts to sing. It is a quiet sad song, a hymn he’s heard a hundred times as he forced himself to stay awake during services. There is not enough penance in the world to absolve him but he likes the music sometimes. This one has been a favorite for many years. His voice gets stronger as he settles into it, staring at the floor just beyond his shoes, trying to picture himself out in the woods, surrounded by his only companions—the silent trees and the birdsong. When he stops they are staring at him and he hates it. He rubs one foot against the back of the other calf, considering just walking out of the room before anyone is forced to say anything, to embarrass him further with some pitying words.

“That—that was great!” the teacher finally says. “We needed a baritone, you would be perfect.”

Aaron just nods, cheeks flushed as he risks another look to the corner where the girl had been standing. She is still there, looking at him more carefully now, her expression an odd mix of emotion. It is enough to give him the courage to smile back, just slightly, the tiniest twitch of the corner of his mouth.

“Rehearsals start next week. Everyday after school. Can you do that?”

He nods again, dragging his eyes back to the adults in front of him. “Yes, ma’am,” he says, just as quietly as when he started.

As he walks away, he hears his old civics teacher mutter to the drama teacher, “I had no idea he could sing. I’ve barely heard him speak.”

The other teacher hums back in agreement, just as confused.

*

Many months down the line and Aaron has softened a little. No longer an instigator of fights, he has other things on his mind. The anger hasn’t gone anywhere but he holds it back so that it doesn’t disturb the peace he finds with Haley. She is the best thing to ever come into his life and he knows he doesn’t deserve her; knows it is only a matter of time before the world rights itself and takes this gentle soul from him. He knows she is not a second chance, no one will ever forget what he is, he can never outrun the dark looks that follow his name. But he’ll hide in the solace she provides as long as the world lets him.

To her credit, she doesn’t make him feel foreign or pathetic as she learns new layers of his reality. Inside she cringes at every revelation but she is careful, keeping an invitation on her face, making space for him to bleed out some of what poisons him. He is hesitant and slow to share, sure that each slip will send her running. But when she does’t run, when she only pulls him closer, he trembles with the desire to be seen the way she seems to. That relentlessly denied hope gaining strength—that someone might care to look past the barbed wire and broken glass he’s made a home within.

There are good days and bad, they are only children after all. Sometimes he can’t explain his feelings. They are too big and all he wants to do was rip apart the world to find a place he can bury them. He tries to hide from her but she’s caught on to his tricks, seeking him out in all his usual unusual places: behind the gym, near the creek, the empty fields around his home. She grabs his shaking hands and pulls him to the ground, leaning against him and stroking the back of his hand while he shivers out the small pieces of a story that he thinks she can handle. The reality is it is much more than she can but much less than he needs. But they do their best.

She waits until she is alone or with her sister to cry for the ways life has harmed him, has doubled back on its promise and turned something she thought was a gift into nothing but torment. It is the first time she’s really understood what people mean when they say life is unfair. But she is stubborn and believes everyone deserves kindness, if no one else was willing to provide, she will be his reprieve.

At first the other girls laugh, thinking it is some kind of joke, a cliche, the beauty and the beast. But as they watch him change, catching smiles and held hands, they are in awe of Haley Brooks. While they can’t forget their distaste for the weird and angry boy they’ve known since grade school, they think perhaps there is something they missed. The softer-hearted among them root for their success; the others, once over the novelty, do their best to ignore the couple. Soon it isn’t even worth a comment when Haley turns up to some social event, towing along a brooding but behaved Aaron Hotchner.

*

It is Halloween and she’s convinced him to come to a party. Not a big deal, she promises, just a keg and some idiots in the woods. He gives in easily because he knows how badly she wants to go and he tries to give her whatever normalcy he can. He is uncomfortable at parties but appreciative that this one will be outside, in the woods, his woods, as he likes to think of them. The party is uneventful, he even manages to get a laugh from a group of tipsy sophomores when he makes a dry observation of the likeness of warm beer to peanuts. He hadn’t been trying to be funny but their laughter feels nice anyway.  

They wander away from the party together, walking towards the neighborhood they both live in. He has handed over his jacket to supplement the impractical blue gingham dress she is wearing. He’d resisted her requests for a couples costume and frowned unhappily when she thrust a flannel and a straw hat at him as they were headed out. He’d put his normal jacket on over it as soon as she was distracted by a conversation and “lost” the hat somewhere in a bush. At least without the hat he could feasibly be wearing a normal outfit though he would never pick out something quite so green.

They hold hands as they walk down the sidewalk, tugging on one another slightly just to feel the comfort of the opposing weight. Occasionally there is a sign post and he drops her hand to split around it, only to grab it back and pull her in closely for a kiss. She giggles, enjoying this looser version of him. He doesn’t drink in front of her very often, usually too nervous to lower his guard and make himself vulnerable in that way.

As they get closer to town, he steps further into the street when he lets go of her hand. There is more traffic here and she is confused by what he’s doing. Maybe he is getting tired, not paying attention to his actions. She isn’t completely wrong, though it’s not the sort of inattention she’s thinking of. Every headlight that burns their vision pulls at him. The promise of impact, of un-ignorable damage draws him closer. He laughs as he stumbles, veering back to the sidewalk with smaller and smaller margins. He seems to have forgotten her, instead he is focused on this private game without a possibility of winning. It makes her nervous but she tells herself it isn’t a big deal. All boys are like this, flirting with destruction.

As yet another car passes with only a few feet of clearance, she can’t take it anymore.

“Aaron! This isn’t fun for me,” she is upset and the tone of her voice cuts through the drunken fog of his mind. He’s almost forgotten he isn’t alone, hypnotized by the weave of light and dark. Immediately remorseful, he jumps back to the sidewalk, planting his feet heavily and grabbing her around the waist. He pulls her in close, tucking her head under his chin, closing his eyes against the rise and fall of the horizon.

“‘m sorry,” he whispers into her hair. She shakes her head but squeezes him, arms wrapped around his torso. He takes another breath and opens his eyes, watching as another car passes them, oblivious to their small drama. The lights still pull at him but he clings to her, holding on for all he’s worth.

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

Habanero

You're a good girl, well behaved.

Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.

Until you are.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Aizawa x Reader, eventual polyamorous Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Gen

Trigger Warnings: None in this chapter. Unless you count Mineta ig

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

Chapter: 7/16 (all chapters)

“And the villain came towards me...he was so much bigger than me! I thought I was going to die!!

You scribbled notes on your clipboard.

“Interesting.”

It was now two days after the USJ incident and UA had reopened its doors. Its students had returned to classes as normal and they weren’t the only ones. You had spotted Shouta limping through the corridors and taking classes, as if his arms were not still in casts.

You were grateful now more than ever of your incredibly busy schedule, for you didn’t get a chance to stew in your own thoughts. You had taken each member of 1-A in for trauma counselling, going over the incident and getting a feel for their coping mechanisms. They were stronger than you’d given them credit for, with most requiring nothing more than a feelings diary and follow up appointment in a week’s time.

Their reactions to this had varied widely. Iida, Todoroki and Yaoyorozu asked if there was a word count requirement. Bakugo made no secret of the fact that he thought it was bullshit. Uraraka and Midoriya seemed weirdly excited about it and promised to do their best.

The final student to arrive in your office was Mineta and he had spent most of the session asking for a hug. You were familiar with his type and well prepared. Every time he reached towards you, you pushed your tissue box further across the table and into his open arms.

“Now, Mineta,” you said, picking up the final journal of the set, “I have a very important task for you…”

From the expression on his face, anyone would have thought you had given him the world.

“Of course!"

“This is a feelings diary,” you said. “I’m going to make an appointment a week from now, where we can go over everything, but until then I’d like for you to complete this. For the next week, every time you feel a negative emotion, like fear or anger or anxiety, I’d like you to write about it here. See how there are sections for location, time and what’s going through your mind? You don’t have to worry about filling every box, but it’ll help us make the most of our time together.”

“Anything for you, Miss (Last Name),” said Mineta, holding the book to his chest as if you’d handed him the holy grail. “But...I do have one request.”

“Oh?”

“Please cheer for me at the sports festival!”

Regardless of their reactions to the session, almost every member of class 1-A had asked for you to cheer for them at the sports festival. You had agreed each time, more than a little bit touched that they would think to ask.

“Of course!”

You were sure you spotted Mineta raising the journal you had given him to his nose as he left the room and you let out a sigh, getting up from your desk to pour yourself a glass of water. Getting through your meetings with 1-A had taken up most of your day and you were grateful for a moment’s peace and quiet.

The silence didn’t last long, though, for someone knocked at your door only a matter of minutes later.

“Come in,” you called out, wondering if one of the students had forgotten something. Perhaps they had further questions about the task you’d given them.

The person who came in, however, wasn’t from 1-A. They weren’t even from the hero course. It was one of the students in general studies and you searched your brain for his name. You had certainly seen his file, but couldn’t remember why it stood out to you so much.

What was it?

Oh! That was it!

Shinsou

He still stood in the doorway, examining your office in curiosity.

“I wasn’t sure if you were open…”

“Of course! Take a seat."

He obeyed, flopping down into the chair opposite your desk and sitting in silence. You had seen his type before too- the ones who reached out for help, but needed some degree of coaxing to vocalise their problem.

“Candy?” you asked, holding out the bowl of hard boiled candies you kept beside your computer monitor for such occasions.

He reached in and picked out a sour cherry, though didn’t eat it, instead turning it over in his fingers as he stared at the floor.

“Is it true,” he said at last, “that if we make an impact at the sports festival...we can change classes?”

“Were you thinking of swapping?”

“I guess.”

You clapped your hands together, turning to your computer.

“There’s a form we need to complete together,” you said, loading up the file. “It’ll only take a couple of minutes.

He shrugged and unwrapped the candy.

“Whatever.”

He mostly nodded his way through your questions, crunching at the candy every time you filled out a box. He seemed dismissive of the choice he was making, though you got the impression he was anything but. In many respects he reminded you of Shouta.

“And that’s that,” you said, reaching for your stamp and putting it to paper. “Give this to your home room teacher as soon as you can and they’ll make the relevant arrangements.”

“Thanks,” he said, taking the paper and folding it in half.

He didn’t move for a while, running his fingers over the paper as if unsure that it was real. Finally, he got to his feet and snatched up another candy from your bowl, this time sour apple. He unwrapped it and turned to the door, though stopped before he could reach for the handle.

“Um,” he said, “that is…”

He took a deep breath and gave you an overly formal bow.

“Pleasecheerformeatthesportsfestival.”

With that, he hurried out of the room, shoving the candy in his mouth as he closed the door behind him.

You watched the door for a short while after that, finally giving in to laughter.

You hadn’t fully agreed with Nezu about holding the games, but at that moment  you felt you understood his decision better.

You couldn’t wait for the sports festival; couldn’t wait to watch the students you had come to know give it their all. You promised yourself you would cheer for them -all of them- until you had no voice left.

You only hoped your feelings would reach them.

_______

That evening, as you cooked dinner home alone, Hizashi went to see Shouta. You had been more than happy for him to check in on him in your stead, still overcome with guilt at the kiss. Not to mention that there were certain aspects of his recovery that were inappropriate for you to help with, much like today.

Hizashi whined as he rifled through Shouta’s bathroom cupboards.

“Unforgivable,” he whispered under his breath, to which Shouta groaned.

Hizashi was in the process of helping him wash his hair, an offer Shouta protested more than once, only to give up and stare into space as Hizashi sat him down on a stool at the bathroom sink, draping a cape over his shoulders as if the pair of them were at a salon.

“I can forgive a lot of things, Eraser,” said Hizashi, turning to Shouta with a heartbroken expression and numerous identical bottles in his arms, “but this?”

“They were on sale,” shrugged Shouta. “I stocked up.”

“These are 3-in-1! Shampoo, conditioner and bodywash? It’s like you’re doing this on purpose.”

“I am doing it on purpose. They’re cheap.”

Hizashi shoved them back into the cupboard, rushing over to the bag of products he’d brought with him. He had only brought the bag because it had a portable shower head. He’d never dreamed he would have to bring out the big guns.

“Let’s see,” he said, picking through the bottles within. “I think...this one.”

He planted it onto the sink next to Shouta and fixed the shower head to his tap. Shouta leaned over to read the label. Magnolia Sunrise . He recognised it, but he wasn’t sure where from.

He flinched as Hizashi turned on the tap and fiddled with the temperature, though closed his eyes the second water ran through his hair. It was soothing, but he’d never admit it.

Hizashi took in his relaxed demeanour and smirked, thinking how ridiculous this might look to an outsider. He switched off the water and gathered a little of the shampoo in his hands, working it up to a lather and then reaching towards Shouta’s hair.

“Eraser,” he said as he massaged the shampoo into his scalp.

“What?”

Hizashi had wanted to take care of his friend, that much was true, but he’d be lying if he said that was the only reason he had gone there. He had agreed with Nemuri not to act until after the sports festival, but a lot could happen in two weeks. He still believed you to be Shouta’s rebound and feared that if you checked in on him too much or spent too long at his house, the rejection would hit you far harder when it inevitably occurred.

Not only that, but he still didn’t know anything about the mystery woman, which bothered him far more than he would ever admit. He had known Shouta for half of his life and up until recently would have insisted he knew just about everything about him.

It was a long shot, but he hoped that if he asked the right questions, Shouta would reveal everything of his own accord. Not only would Hizashi be able to use the information to track down the girl, but it would also make him feel better about not knowing she existed. He couldn’t believe that he had missed out on such an important development in his friend’s life. He had always believed that he would be involved in every step of the journey if Shouta ever developed feelings for someone.

“Do you ever think about...dating?”

“Dating?”

“Yeah, like going to mixers and things, picking up dates.”

“Not really,” he said. “Why?”

“No reason,” said Hizashi, turning on the water again. “Y’know...it’s just that we’re at that time of our lives where people start thinking about that sort of thing. Even Nemuri talked about going to speed dating not so long ago.”

“Dating takes time and I don’t have much of it,” shrugged Shouta. “It doesn’t make sense to burden someone with a relationship when I’m not going to be around a lot of the time. And that’s assuming they’re not as busy as I am. If we were both busy, we’d never see each other.”

“But what if they were super special somehow,” said Hizashi, thinking of the triple breasted woman at Ego . “What if…what if you met them and knew they were the one?”

“I dunno. Why? Are you thinking about dating?”

Truth be told, Hizashi thought about dating a lot. He wanted someone to spoil with gifts and serenades, someone he could gush about on his radio show. He wanted someone he could sing with in the shower after fucking them in it.

“No,” he said, rinsing Shouta’s hair. “I just wondered, you know.”

Shouta didn’t say anything to that and he continued to wash his hair in silence.

“Eraser.”

“Yeah?”

“What do you think about (Name)?”

Shouta cracked open an eye, wondering about Hizashi’s motives. He had taken care not to drop hints at anything that had happened between you, though wondered if he hadn’t been careful enough.

“She’s a capable guidance counsellor,” he said. “Why?”

“N-no reason!”

Hizashi continued to wash his hair in silence. He hadn’t expected him to divulge anything, yet felt disappointed anyway.

“Now,” he said, “time for conditioner...and then we can go straight on to blow drying!”

“No funny business.”

Hizashi feigned innocence, as if he hadn’t brought curlers, making the most of Eraser’s inability to stop him.

“I don’t know what you mean!”

“Mhmm.”

__________

While Hizashi put rollers in Shouta’s hair, you sat up in the bath to reach for your shampoo.

Magnolia Sunrise.

The same shampoo that Shouta had seen on the morning of the reset.

_________

The games began two weeks later and you could barely hide your excitement. You had seen how hard the students were working for their futures and how proud their teachers were in turn. You couldn’t wait to see the fruits of their labours.

You had only ever seen the games on television and being on site was more exciting than you could possibly describe. Within an hour of your arrival, you had already picked up an array of masks and candies, ready to distribute them among your nieces and nephews. You also picked up a few boxes of candied apples. Tensions were running high and you were more than a little aware that it went both ways. Events such as this produced shocking highs and even worse lows. Candied apples wouldn’t fix everything, but it was a start.

1-A had gained the eye of both the general public and professionals as a result of USJ. Unsurprisingly, their stadium was the busiest. You were grateful to have a seat in the first place, let alone one alongside the teachers, with a clear view of the action.

The first trial was an obstacle course and it left you on the edge of your seat. You watched in a combination of shock and delight at the incredible improvisational skills of each and every student, so far removed from the kids you had given diaries to.

After the trial, when Midoriya, Bakugo and Todoroki crashed into the first three, you took a quick bathroom break. You had treated yourself to an iced tea before sitting down to watch the event and, as a consequence of the nervous sipping you had done, needed to pee pretty badly.

You bumped into Nemuri on your way out of the washroom.

Nemuri, much like Hizashi before her, had not only agreed to take a step back from interfering until after the games were over, but knew an opportunity when she saw one.

“Oh, (Name),” she said, “I found you just in time!”

“Is everything okay?”

“I passed Mic on the way here,” she said. “He said he needed your help!”

“He did?”

You knew that both Hizashi and Shouta were providing commentary for the games. You also knew that the commentary stands were quite far away from your current position.

“Yeah, he said it was pretty urgent!”

“I...uh...okay!”

If Hizashi truly did need you that desperately, you probably shouldn’t keep him waiting.

_________

Hizashi, needless to say, had not needed you at all. Nemuri had counted on him being as opportunistic as she was and snatching up the chance to have you and Shouta spend more time together. She had not, however, counted on Hizashi’s objectives being different to her own.

He and Shouta were going through the listings when you poked your head around the door.

“(Name),” he said, “it’s good to see you!”

“Hey,” you said, “need a hand?”

You assumed that, as he had asked for you directly, there was no need to specify that Nemuri had asked you to go. Hizashi assumed that, as you were a kind sort of person, you had come of your own accord.

If you had used different phrasing, perhaps the outcome would have been different.

“No, no,” he said, giving you the thumbs up. “Everything's a-okay, dear listener!”

“Are you sure?”

You wondered why he had asked for you specifically, only for it to turn out to be nothing.

“Positive! Certain!”

“Well, okay,” you said. “Just...let me know if you need anything.”

You left the commentary stand and descended the stairs, the rumble of the next round beginning. The next trial appeared to be a cavalry style battle and you picked up the pace to get back to your seat. Cavalry battles were always fun to watch and you were curious to know how the students would use their quirks.

Unfortunately, you passed Nemuri en route, who had just finished distributing ribbons to the students.

“Ah, (Name),” she said, “did you talk to Hizashi?”

“Yeah,” you said with a shrug. “Turns out he didn’t need me after all.”

Nemuri cursed under her breath, realising that she had underestimated exactly how oblivious Hizashi could be.

“I just spoke to him,” she said, tapping her earpiece. “He changed his mind...there is something he needs after all.”

“Oh,” you said. “Uhhhh...okay...guess I’ll go back.”

Just like that, you returned to the stairwell, biting back curses of your own every time you heard a crash from outside. You all but sprinted back up the stairs, hoping that whatever Hizashi needed wouldn’t take too long and you would still make it back in time to catch the rest of the cavalry battle.

Hizashi muted his microphone the second you came back.

“(Name),” he said, “what…”

“How can I help?”

Once again, you didn’t mention Nemuri. This time Hizashi panicked, no longer certain that your offers came from a place of selflessness. Could it be that you just wanted an excuse to spend time with Shouta? Would you just keep coming back every time he sent you away? A week ago, he would have loved nothing more than for you to sit with them in the stands, but now he feared the worst. He had to get you away from Shouta and quickly.

“I...um...yes! There is something you can help with! I want some of the...uh...the All Might mochi. Could you fetch some?”

The mochi stand was far from the stadium. The queue for it was at least a mile long. You had observed this yourself when you picked out treats that morning. You took his money, albeit begrudgingly, praying that the queue would have died down now that the second event had started.

Unfortunately, you were out of luck. Everyone in Musutafu seemed to have had the same idea. You watched the television screens as you took your place in line, mourning the amazing view of the action you would have had from your seat.

You decided to buy yourself some of the dango once you got to the front. You needed something to make yourself feel better.

The vendor sold out, though, before you could get even remotely close to the front, the cheers from the arena adding insult to injury.

You trudged back inside, resigned to the fact that you were never going to see the cavalry battle, only for someone to call out to you from a short distance away. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw who it was.

Masayama Akira. Commercial director of the Silver Edge group, an umbrella corporation that owned and managed a great number of agencies in the country.

Your ex.

Success suited him, you considered, eying his tailored suit and Italian leather shoes. He had always dressed well, believing that sometimes the illusion of wealth was enough to cultivate success, but you had been away from him for so long that you had almost forgotten.

“You...you look great,” he said, coming over to give you a one armed hug. “How are things?”

You didn’t look great and you knew it. You were hot and sweaty from running up and down the stairs and then standing out in the sun.

“W-what are you doing here?”

You hadn’t expected to run into him at the festival. Neither of you had attended before.

“I’m here on behalf of the group,” he said, sounding a little sheepish, “officially, anyway.”

“Oh, you wanted to get an eye for future investments?”

“No,” he said. “Actually, I was hoping I’d run into you.”

It was the last thing you had expected him to say and you prayed it didn’t show on your face. You hadn’t committed to his suggestion of going to dinner, nor had you made any attempt to contact him since the day of the USJ incident. You didn’t trust yourself to be around him. The breakup had wounded you and you weren’t naive enough to believe you were healed.

He looked good, though. You couldn’t deny it. You couldn’t stop thinking about how he looked without his clothes; the noises he made before he came; the way he would place his hand on the small of your back in public.

You’d missed him; missed the sound of his laugh and the softness of his kisses. You had caught a whiff of his cologne when he hugged you and every memory you had tried to bury came rushing back. You remembered movie nights; the cooking classes you had taken to become a good wife; the ugly socks and gloves you had knitted for him.

“I know you’re busy,” he said, “but I really would like to take you to dinner.”

“I’d love to,” you said before you could stop yourself.

“How about this week?”

“No good,” you said. “We’re organising internships for the next couple of weeks. What about the week after? They’ll be on their assignments by then and things should have calmed down.”

“Sounds good. Shall we go to the usual place?”

Your usual place was a French style restaurant near his apartment that was almost too bougie, with wisteria flowers growing around its windows and doors. You had to admit, you’d missed their house red.

“Do we still have a table?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

You laughed at that, only to jump out of your skin as a boom erupted from the stadium.

“Shit,” you said, turning back to him apologetically. “I can’t stay, I came to get some mochi for my coworker and there wasn’t any left and now I’m late and-”

“The All Might mochi?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I knew it was popular, but I didn’t expect it to be gone.”

Akira grinned.

“You mean this mochi?”

He lifted his other arm, showing off the distinctive white box with red, white, blue and yellow mochi within.

“Yes,” you said with a gasp, “you’re so lucky!”

He glanced from the box to you before shoving it into your hands.

“Here. Take it.”

“I couldn’t possibly…”

“Don’t think too much about it, we’ll just go Dutch at dinner.”

“I…” you stared at the box. “Okay…”

Your fingers trembled as you took it from him. None of it felt real.

“I’d better go,” said Akira, motioning for the stairwell. “I’ll text you later!”

You waved him off, stomach fluttering. You felt like a high schooler again, having a short conversation with your crush.

You took a deep breath and hugged the mochi to your chest.

“It’s okay, (Name),” you muttered to yourself. “It’s just dinner. It doesn’t mean anything.”

__________

You were still feeling a little giggly when you returned to the commentary stands with the mochi and Shouta glanced from you to Hizashi as you handed it over.

He thought back to the conversation he had had with Hizashi before the games, that he had mentioned your name not too long after he had brought up dating. He considered how enthusiastically you had been to keep coming to the stands, the flush across your cheeks as you handed over the goods, how quickly the pair of you had set up Support Mic .

Just like that, unbeknownst to everyone, Shouta added two and two together and made blue.

_______

A/N

IF YOU’VE READ THIS FIC ALREADY YOU KNOW WHAT’S COMING IN THE NEXT COUPLE OF CHAPTERS AAAAAAAAAA

IF YOU HAVEN’T

[ggukcangetit]

please... love me | jjk x reader

title: please... love me

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: emotions are difficult and intense. which you find out the hard way. but sometimes, they can lead to something beautiful.

rating: PG-13

word count: 1.6k

genre: fluff, slight angst

warnings: none i can really think of

a/n: idk where this came from. but here you go.

Jungkook hummed quietly while keeping an eye on the chicken cooking on the stove. The subtle fragrance of the spices wafted through the kitchen and made its way into the living room where you were sitting - knees pulled into yourself as you scrolled through your phone mindlessly. Normally, the sight of someone - especially Jungkook - cooking for you would be the best part of your day. But this time it was different. It hadn’t even been 24 hours since your fight with Jungkook, yet here he was, coming over like he did every time he found the special spicy chili paste at the market, and cooking that one particular chicken dish you adored but hated having to make. The soft melody he had been humming for the past few minutes was starting to annoy you. Really, it was only because you felt guilty and didn’t want to admit that you had been a particularly horrid person the day before. 

It had all been fine and dandy - you, Jimin, Jungkook, and Hoseok were watching a movie at the latter’s apartment, something that had happened after a long time because the four of you never seemed to be able to coordinate your schedules. It was while watching the movie that something strange happened to you. Jimin had been feeling slightly under the weather and Jungkook immediately volunteered to make some hot stew for him. Dropping everything, including the movie you all had been watching, he ran to the nearest grocery store, bought the ingredients for the stew, and proceeded to cook at half past 11 at night. While Hoseok joked about Jungkook’s eagerness to help everyone, a flicker of annoyance passed through you, building in intensity as the stew was brought out and Jimin sipped it gratefully. 

There was no real reason for your annoyance. Which made you all the more annoyed. Picking up your phone and wallet, you headed for the door.

“I’m heading home.” Your tone was stiff and the others looked at you in surprise.

“You don’t want to watch the rest of the movie?” Jungkook asked. 

“I don’t think anyone was really watching it anymore.” The words sounded awfully odd even to your ears.

“Come on,” Jungkook continued, giving you a sheepish grin. “I promise there won’t be any more distractions.”

“No. I’m going home. You guys can continue watching it if you want.”

“Y/n, come on, I’m sorry. Let’s watch the rest of the movie together.” 

“I’m going home. You guys can watch the movie together.”

Hoseok and Jimin looked around awkwardly, not sure of how to react. To be honest, neither did you. After a few moments of silence, Jungkook sighed and walked towards you.

“Okay, let me drive you home. You didn’t bring your car today.”

“No.”

Jungkook’s head shot up as his gaze caught yours. “No?”

“I can get back on my own.”

“I know you can. But I drove you here-” Jungkook ran a hand through his hair frustratedly - “It’s quite late, let me drive you back.”

“No.”

“Stop this, Y/n…”

“I’m not doing anything.” Your voice had risen considerably since announcing your departure. 

“Why’re you being so stubborn?!��

“I’m not! You’re the one who’s being stubborn!”

“What the hell happened anyway? Why are you so pissed off all of a sudden?! Because I wasn’t completely focused while watching the movie? What sort of childishness is this??” The exasperation in Jungkook’s voice was very apparent.

“Nothing happened.” Your tone was clipped once again. “I’m going home.” 

That was the last thing you had said to him before slamming shut the door to Hoseok’s apartment. After getting home, you muted every possible chat that Jungkook was part of - every part of you wanting to shut yourself off from him. But not a single part understanding why.

The clink of dishes brought you back to the present - Jungkook walked out of the kitchen with a couple of plates and placed one of them in front of you. The food was delicious as always, but nothing seemed to be going down your throat. A lump had settled there ever since you had returned from Hoseok’s place last night.

Even now, Jungkook said nothing, quietly eating the food and reading something on his phone. 

“Gguk?” He looked up from his phone, his doe eyes slightly unfocused.

“Hmm?” It was a soft sound, something you had heard countless times over the year and a half you had known him. There was never any aggression in his words, or his actions, or his intentions. He didn’t hold grudges. Nor did he stay angry purposefully, just to get back at you. You felt like an intruder in Jungkook’s world of soft emotions and beautiful thoughts - a complication amidst every ounce of sincerity that made up his being.

“Sorry about yesterday.” Your voice was low as you struggled to keep your emotions in check.

“It’s fine.” He gave you a small smile.

The lump was still present, your throat feeling choked as you gulped down some water. 

“Are you okay?” Concern laced his tone as he noticed the way your lips were quivering. “Are you feeling sick?”

He was beside you within seconds, rubbing your back soothingly and pouring you some more water.

“Why do you say that it’s okay?” You turned away from him, not knowing if you would have the courage to speak if you saw him staring at you with those horribly expressive doe eyes. “I behaved so horribly yesterday. Why didn’t you get angry? Why did you come and cook dinner?”

“I was angry. And frustrated.” He was now sitting next to you on the couch. “You didn’t even answer my messages. I was worried something might have happened to you. So I went to the market and looked for the spicy chili paste. At least then I’d have an excuse to come and see if you were okay.”

There was no way you could look at him now. Not without bursting into tears. 

“Are you okay? I’m sorry I came over like this. I was just so worried… I know you’re upset and I’m not really sure why. I’ll leave. But… let me know if you need anything.”

The way he said those words, as if he had done something wrong. That was what broke you. 

“Stop it.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “Please... Please stop apologizing. Please get mad at me. Please tell me I’m horribly stubborn. Please ignore me when I’m being an asshole. Please make me stew when I’m feeling down. Please call me at odd hours. Please come over for no reason. Please notice me when I ignore your messages. Please get annoyed I do stupid things to get your attention. Please, Gguk, please… love me.”

Strong, warm arms wrapped around you as a single tear slid down your cheek. You closed your eyes shut as he guided your head onto his chest. You breathed in his scent - that soft, subtle smell of coffee mixed with his favorite fabric softener. It was so familiar and so comforting. One of his arms was still wrapped around you as the other pulled you closer towards him. You were basically sitting in his lap at this point, but the soft weight of his chin on top of your head prevented you from really focusing on anything. 

The two of you stayed like this for a while, just breathing deeply and embracing the moment. The gentle movement of his fingers in your hair was starting to make you feel sleepy and you looked up at him for the first time since apologizing for your behavior. His eyes held the same warm sincerity they always did, but there was something else there as well. 

“Feeling better?” The back of his fingers stroked your cheek softly, making you shiver slightly.

You didn’t answer. Regret had started bubbling inside you. You broke his gaze, focusing on the fabric of his t-shirt.

“Y/n? Please look at me.”

As soon as you looked up again, he brought his forehead closer and rested it against yours. Your noses were almost touching, and you closed your eyes because it was difficult to focus on him when he was so close. 

“I’m not good with words.” Every word felt like a soft kiss as his breath fell on your cheek and lips. “I never have been. But I hope you understand that a whole universe wouldn’t be enough to express how I feel about you.”

He rubbed his nose against yours and you struggled to stop yourself from leaning forward and brushing your lips with his. His free hand was now running soothing patterns along your back, and you clung to him in the hope that the proximity would somehow reduce unsettling need within you. 

“Y/n…” He was so close that the mention of your name made his lips brush against your own. “Can I kiss you?” His voice was so hoarse. You barely managed a nod before the feeling of his slightly chapped lips on yours took over. Soft at first, and slightly awkward, but soon it was as easy as breathing and as wonderful as the first rain after a long, dry summer. 

You relaxed into him as he kissed you in every way possible. The two of you slowly found a steady rhythm, relishing in the closeness of your bodies and the intimacies of your emotions. 

The lump in your throat was now gone. As was the last ounce of indecision keeping you away from the man you had fallen hopelessly in love with.

lemme know if you liked it 💕

[guiltysecretpasttime]

Blended - 2

As you can see - so I decided to pursue Blended. Originally, there was no serious plot to this, I swear. I was just winging it but before I knew it - I was exploring this interesting new AU that I’ve unearthed and I thought, eh why not? Now, I have quite a backstory for our main characters here. Which, unfortunately, will not yet be revealed below but just the same, hope you like this!

---

Title: Blended

Previous installment here.

Legend of Korra, Lin/Tenzin, Modern AU, no bending

Multi-part, WIP

—

Narook’s

Lin sucked in a deep breath. She released it slowly, counting up to five.

Her eyes blinked, wishing for all the strength in the universe not to forsake her.

She had taught her sons never to play the break-up one-up game but good Agni, she wanted to say that she is winning this particular break-up even a decade or so after.

Yes Lin, you can do this. You have won this break-up.

She tried to give herself an imaginary fist pump.

Yes, sure. Real mature of you.

Feeling that she had done enough pep talk, Lin plastered a smile on her face. She had gotten good at this in the past years after all.

Now or never. For Jinora.

She crossed the room quickly. “Hey kid, sorry I’m late.” Lin pressed a kiss on Jinora’s hair, not meeting the eyes of the other occupants of the booth. The young girl faced her to give a kiss and a hug in return. “Of all the days, I know.” Lin focused on tucking some stray hair strands behind Jinora’s ear. “I don’t even know why Mr Sato has an assistant if the man barely follows his own schedule.”

She finally took a seat and faced the now gaping man across her.

“Ah – this is my mom –,” Jinora started to introduce her at the same time that Lin extended her hand.

“I’m Lin, Jinora’s mom. Nice to meet you.”

The bald man automatically reached to grasp her hand to shake it He was a beat too slow to release her hand and Lin involuntarily frowned at that.

Ikki elbowed her father. “His name is Tenzin.” She added helpfully. “He’s my dad.”

No kidding.

She put up the menu as a shield between them to prolong the inevitable conversation; a ruse of reviewing the food and beverage lists even if the diner has yet to update it in the past five years.

Belatedly, all her uncharitable thoughts about the faceless man that was Ikki’s father came to the forefront of her mind.  

Figures he would be that stuffy businessman who did not have his kids play with the neighborhood kids.

Speaking of kids…

The two girls were sharing a plate of waffles beside them. The waffles were slathered with butter, whipped cream, maple syrup and sprinkled on with chopped peanut butter cups. She frowned and glared at the man across her from behind the menu. That was a sugar overload and sugar crash waiting to happen. And happen it will when the two girls would be in her care later today. He would not have to deal with that.

Tenzin only had a cup of coffee in front of him. She eyed the porcelain canisters at the side containing cream and sugar. The sugar bowl was only a third full and she would bet that it was full earlier before he had his hands on it.

She put down the menu and decided they have had enough time.

Lin waved a waiter over and requested for a tall glass of lemonade.

Tenzin was still looking at her apprehensively.

As he should.

If he thinks I will cash in on this 'renewed' connection, he is very much mistaken.

“So, I believe you have some concerns about Ikki staying over?” Lin was pleased to note that her voice did not even waver at any point.

She felt the curious eyes of the kids turn to them; their own conversation turning into whispers.

That seemed to snap Tenzin out of his thoughts.

“That is - that- no I don’t -.” He stammered unbecomingly.

Lin briefly wondered how this man managed to lead a conglomerate with this level of eloquence.

Ikki pounced on this. “Does it mean I can stay over at Jinora’s and Ms Lin’s? I promise I will behave, Daddy. And I swear we will produce the best project ever – with glitters, and sparkles and all the colors.” She beamed from the side, clutching at her father’s arm in excitement.

“It’s not our first sleepover at the house,” Lin interjected gently. “But I understand it’s Ikki’s first time to sleep over that is not with family. So you might have some questions for me – about the overnight stay.” She amended quickly, if the look in his eyes meant that he did have questions - just not related to the sleepover.

He motioned to speak but was interrupted by the serving placing a glass of lemonade between them.

“Well,” Lin calmly took a sip. “I could probably start with my questions and just chime in if there’s anything that comes to your mind.” She pulled out a pen and a small notepad from her bag. “Does she have allergic reactions to food -?”

“Shrimp and crab.” Tenzin responded in a subdued manner, absentmindedly stirring his coffee. A habit that Lin knew to indicate his nervousness.

“That won’t be a problem because,” Lin began but was interrupted by her daughter.

“Me too!” Jinora pointed to herself with a grin. “I’m allergic to crab and shrimp as well!”

There was a small shriek as the two girls began chattering about being besties and twinsies.

Tenzin’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the display.

If that was how they would react over a common allergy (of all things that they could get from their father, it would be his ironic allergy to shellfish, which was to his mother’s consternation – but that’s a different story), wait until they realize they were sisters, Lin idly pondered.

She froze.

Sisters.

It did not dawn on her until then, put in simplistic terms, the two girls are related. She looked at them thoughtfully now, trying to see similarities in their features.

Half-sisters.

Lin corrected herself. Everyone knew how much she had clung to that particular distinction in her own family.

She clicked her pen and noted down in neat precise letters about Ikki’s allergy. “How about emergency numbers or any medicines that she needs to take regularly?”

Tenzin lifted Ikki’s bag, he showed her the bag tag which has all the emergency numbers. He also stated that there were no other allergies or any meds that the kid needs to take.

The pen continued to scratch on the pad.

Pen scratched on the pad.

“Bed time?”

“I'll leave it to your judgment to what's reasonable.” The fingers continued to hold the spoon that stirred the coffee. “They are bound to stay up later because of the project, I suppose.”

A back and forth of more questions and answers continued in the same vein.

When Lin (and Tenzin) was satisfied with the childcare information, flipped back the note pad and kept it and the pen back in her bag. “Alright then, are you really okay with Ikki staying over? If not,” She peered at him, gauging his reaction. “I can easily bring her back to your house later tonight.”

Tenzin shook his head with conviction. “No need, I mean, yes, it’s okay for her to spend time with you.” His face looked stricken at what he said. “No that’s not why I’m implying – I mean.”

Lin resisted rolling her eyes. “I get it.”

 ---

“I get it.”

Did she really, though?

Tenzin tilted his head down, stirring his coffee again, which has gone cold really. He did not dare ask for another refill as he had lost count of how many he had drank in his nervousness.

He inattentively watched the interaction of his daughter with Lin and her daughter.

Lin laughed at something Ikki was talking about.

If nothing else, Lin looked –

Happy.

Contented.

Tenzin was happy, truly, that his childhood friend (among other epithets he had for her, he thought heavily) is in a good place. He would be lying to claim that she did not cross his mind once in a while. He did wonder what had become of her. Their parting was not…ideal. And that was putting it very very lightly.

Now, here he was years later, sitting across her, having finished a conversation about their respective daughters. Lin was warm to Ikki, and he was thankful that she did not seem to bear a grudge against his daughter because of their past.

It was a surreal scenario, to say the least.

If Bumi had told him that was what he would be doing that Friday afternoon, he would have probably slapped his brother upside the head. Or checked his breath for the stench of alcohol.

This was not a normal Friday afternoon for him.

When Lin sat in their booth, he felt a chill run up his spine. The air left his lungs, as though someone had punched him suddenly.

No, it can’t be. Was his first thought.

And yet – he knew it was her.

He would recognize her anywhere. There was no mistaking the way she carried herself, the smirk, the flashing of her grey eyes – only a moment of emotion before it was hidden by the veneer of politeness.

It was cold but his palms turned sweaty. It was an odd feeling really, like a memory that was at the fringes of his mind suddenly before him. He did not know what to make of it.

As much as he was sure he has not forgotten her – when she started introducing herself, he wondered if the same can be said for the other way around.

He had moved far to start a new life with his children. Figures, that, with his luck, he lands at the very town that Lin lived at.

But if Lin wanted to keep it like they did not know each other, fine then. He could handle that. It would be simpler that way, he supposed, especially if Jinora and Ikki would remain friends (bffs, Ikki had said).

It was a cliché but he really did think the years were kind to Lin Beifong.

Is it still Beifong?

He surreptitiously peeked at her hands on the table. One of her fingers was sporting a ring.

So maybe not a Beifong…

He took a sip of his coffee and made a face, forgetting momentarily that it was little more than sludge.

 Before long, the bell at the diner’s door tinkled, announcing that more customers had entered.

Lin turned to face the door at the sound. Her face brightened up and Tenzin craned his neck to see who had arrived.

There was a young man with yellow-orange eyes, a messenger bag slung across his body. His eyes alighted at their corner booth and he smiled, more of lifting the corner of his mouth really than an actual smile.

Tenzin barely heard Lin excuse herself from the table; the two girls, still eating their pile of waffles and chatting about some singer or actor (he wasn’t exactly paying attention), took no notice of her.

Lin went to the newcomer, who raised his hand slightly as greeting.

He watched them with curious fascination – or horrible fascination, he wasn’t sure.

There was that odd tug at his stomach (that he would rather not explore, no, thank you) when the young man (boy, really now Lin? He grumbled internally, never mind his own ex-wife was years younger than him) moved to hug her and give her a kiss on the cheek.

Yes, it was definitely not Tenzin’s usual Friday afternoon.

---

Note: I enjoyed writing this. Pretty cathartic - did you like reading it too? Let me know! 

[gaemkyuu]

Of Kings & Queens (Part One)

Warnings: none!  A/N: Here’s the first part! This is mostly context to the story, with a sneak peak of Prince Charlie! I’ll upload a little more tomorrow! AU!Prince Charlie Gillespie x Fictional Character Disclaimer: This is a FICITONAL writing piece! In no way do I claim characters in this piece act this way in real life.

Masterlist *now taking requests ;)

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/Part 4/Part 5/Part 6

Four Kingdoms stood strong.  North, East, South and West.  Four Royal Families would unite the land. The Blood of Gillespie would rule the cold North, bountiful with forestry and game. The Blood of Shada would rule the Eastern coast and land, mastering the stormy seas and its’ treasures. The Blood of Joyners would rule the hot Southern lands, gathering the resources for petrol that kept the Kingdoms running. The Blood of Lee would rule the golden coast of the Western lands, providing crops and livestock to feed the people. In each Kingdom, a Ruler to bring prosperity and peace to all its’ people.

Dawn was breaking and people were already moving busily about the Western Kingdom. As more people woke, the excitement in the air increased, for today was a special day. Festivities would start early in the day and go late into the night as the Western Kingdom celebrated the coming of age the Princess. Not only was it the Princess’ birthday, it also signified that the Princess was now officially on the Royal Market, searching for a partner to become King of the Western Kingdom. Tonight’s celebration at the castle would bring people from all over the nation, including the royal families from the Eastern, Southern, and Northern kingdoms. Farmers harvested and packed their crops and livestock, Bakers made fresh delights by the dozens, Florists put out their best and brightest flowers and the Merchants polished their wares. This special occasion would bring people from all over the Four Kingdoms to their stores in celebration and vacation. All the work that was being put into the celebration brought the citizens together and united them on this special day. 

Well... At least the citizens were excited...

The Princess was awoken by her best friend and handmaiden, much to her displeasure. She groaned and pulled the covers over her head as the curtains in her room were parted, trying to ignore the hustle and bustle going around her. She knew what day it was, and this made her want to stay in bed for much longer. She even debated not getting up at all. As her handmaiden made herself busy and gave directions to other servants that had entered her room, the princess pulled a pillow over her head, trying to make it clear that she had no intention of getting up. With a heavy sigh, her confidant gave the other servants orders and ushered them out before shutting the door softly behind them.

“Liv. I love you and you know how I feel about today, but I would really appreciate it if you would cooperate so we don’t have the queen on our butts this early” the princess groaned and her best friend pulled the covers off her body. She flinched at the bright sunlight streaming into her room.

“I’m not getting up today Sav. It’s not happening” Savannah shook her head and rolled her eyes at her friend. She knew that Olivia could be quite the drama queen, but today she needed her to cooperate so that she wouldn’t fall behind schedule. Savannah glanced at the clock, already knowing that the extra 15 minutes she allotted was now gone. 

“Liv, unless you want to bathe in a cold bath, you will get up or so help me I will dump ice water on you myself!” Olivia groaned and finally sat up looking at her best friend with disdain. “Listen, I know you don’t want to do Today. I get it. But you don’t need another reason to get on the nerves of the King and Queen today” Savannah’s voice sounded slightly distressed and Olivia felt a little guilty at her dramatization this morning.

Olivia and Savannah were best friends ever since she could remember. Savannah was the only friend she had growing up in the palace and was the only friend her parents let her have that wasn’t Royalty. Sure, there were the Duchesses and Countesses of the smaller lands in the Western Kingdom, but Olivia always found them snooty or rude. Savannah’s family had been helping the royal family for generations and they were integral parts of the inner workings of the palace. Naturally, when Savannah’s parents were busy at work Savannah would wander the halls until she found Olivia. The two were like sisters and the King and Queen appreciated the hard work her family put in to serving the Royal family. 

And while the Royal family paid them handsomely while providing them lodging, Olivia couldn’t help but feel a little guilty at times when the difference in their status showed. Olivia rarely wore the same dress twice, while Savannah had a very modest and small wardrobe. Olivia had a private instructor, while Savannah went to the school with other children. But Savannah never really cared and that’s what Olivia loved about her. She was a true and honest friend who Olivia felt safe confiding in.

“Sorry Sav. I didn’t mean to make this any harder on you than it already has been” Olivia offered her friend a smile, patting the spot beside her on the bed. “Think you can spend a few minutes off your feet? Debrief me on the day if you will?” Savannah greatly accepted the spot, giving her a knowing look and a big sigh.

“Well Princess-” Olivia glared at Savannah at the title. “You need to get into the baths and get clean so I can do your hair and make up before the lady the Queen hired arrives. There is no way I’m letting you face the neighbouring nations’ heirs with makeup and hair that I don’t approve of.” Olivia laughed at Savannah’s possessiveness.

“Do we know if the royal families are coming or just their heirs?” Olivia gave a stretch, preparing herself to start the day.

“To my knowledge, just the heirs... But I hear that Prince Charles is quite handsome!” Olivia rolled her eyes as Savannah winked at her. “What? I can’t help it! You hear the chitter chatter in the palace halls. They arrived yesterday and some of the other servants have already been gushing about him. He’s apparently really charming and great husband material” Savannah saw the look of defeat briefly cross her friend’s eyes, before covering it up with an annoyed sigh. “But enough of that. Let’s get you cleaned and dressed and ready to greet our guests.”

***

“Alright Liv, take a deep breath and hold it, I’m pulling up the zipper!” Olivia did as she was told, while Savannah pulled up the zipper to her dress. She was already dreading the fact that she would have to wear the elaborate garb for several hours. Although the light blue gown was absolutely stunning and represented her fashion sense too, she didn’t expect it to come in several pieces. After putting on two layers of skirt, she had a separate top that needed to be zipped up and a cape draped over her shoulders. She could already feel the weight of the material weighing her down a bit and she sighed at the fact that they hadn’t put on her jewelry yet. Savannah and her helpers busied themselves about putting on a bracelet here and a necklace there. Another girl was putting on her earrings while the other made small hems to her dress. Olivia felt like the dolls that her and Savannah played with as little girls.

“Voila! I’ve outdone myself!” Savannah exclaimed, admiring her bestfriend’s transformation, stepping away from her so that she could see herself in the mirror. As much as Olivia didn’t want to like this moment, she couldn’t stop the smile that graced her face. Her best friend had listened to her every request about her dress. Her mother insisted that her first dress be floor length, modest and a Queen Ann neckline. She requested that the dress be midnight blue with the lace accents to be gold. Her mother criticized her colour choice, saying that dark colours were for the evening, not the morning. Olivia argued that if she had no say in the dress at all, she would go naked, a response in which her mother glared angrily at her. However, as she looked at herself in the mirror, she realized that Savannah had taken her mother’s requests and her requests and blended them together. She had a high waisted, A-line skirt that held the princess look her mother wanted, but it wasn’t so big that Olivia felt like a pastry. The Queen Ann neckline was a dark blue mesh with gold lace accents that extended into long sleeves for her arms. Her bodice held very little decoration as the bottom of her dress held all the royal ornate details. The velvet floor length cape was held together by a golden broach.

As per tradition, Olivia wore her family jewels. The gold diamond festoon necklace sat proudly upon her collar and the gold and sapphire earrings were prominent but not over done. A small dainty gold bracelet sat on her wrist and her family ring decorated her right hand. Her hair was neatly pulled back into a loosened braided low bun with the occasional curl framing her face.

“You’ve done a fine job Savannah” the girls jumped at the voice of the Queen. Quickly turning around, Savannah curtsied to her majesty and Olivia followed with a smaller curtsy. “Savannah, could you please grab the tiara out of the case?”

“Yes, your majesty” Savannah hurried over to the velvet case on the vanity and presented it to the Queen. The small but simple gold tiara sparkled in the light of the room. As the Queen gently picked the tiara up, Olivia bowed, lowering her head, a gesture she was all too familiar with. Her mother placed her tiara upon her head and held her face in her hands. She kissed her daughter on the head, careful not to get any lipstick on her.

“The gods have been great to bless me with a daughter as beautiful as you.” Olivia smiled at her mom, not expecting the sudden emotional tenderness she displayed. “Happy Birthday my dearest. Promise me you’ll try to behave yourself today?” Olivia scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“I’ll try” her mother chuckled softly.

“Just like your father... All I ask is that you give today a chance to be great. You might be surprised at the unexpected events that may present themselves to you” Olivia could never see herself being as polished as her mother. She knew her mother had her best interest at heart, but Olivia couldn’t help but feel like her mother was forcing her to fit into traditional roles of the Kingdom. “If you’ll excuse me, I must be on my way to the throne room. I shall see you shortly Olivia. Savannah, please ensure that the Princess does not stall. I would hate to have her tardy for her grand entrance.”

“Yes your highness!” Savannah curtsied as her mother and the remaining servants exited, leaving the two of them in the room. “Ready to go my lady?”

“Savannah, you know you can drop the formalities around me.” Olivia stepped off the round fitting platform, Savannah catching her arm as Olivia stumbled for a moment, not used to wearing heels. “It makes me feel weird!”

“I know, but we are going to be around tons of people today and most of them would probably have my head if I called you by name in front of them. I’ll be at your side the entire time, but when others are around, you have to remember I’m your attendant” Olivia sighed in slight disappointment, but she knew her friend was right.

“How is it that you’re not the Princess and I am? You’d be way better at this than I am” Savannah giggled at her remarks and dusted her dress off before they opened the door. They knew that her royal guards were right behind it and that as soon as they exited the room, their dynamic had to change.

“Please, I can’t hide my feelings as easily as you. When I think someone is an idiot, it’s clear all over my face and I don’t even notice it!” they shared a laugh as they opened the door and officially started the day. 

But they didn’t expect to see a brown haired man zoom by them in hysterical laughter as a taller blonde man chased after him. 

“Charlie! Get back here with my crown!” and the two disappeared around the corner. Olivia blinked in shocked, trying to process whether the scene in front of her happened or not. As her and Savannah shared a look and shrugged their shoulders, they realized that today was going to indeed be very eventful.

tag list:  @ifilwtmfc

[mostlycompetentwriter]

“Beware” - A GLOW Sequel

F/M pairing: Y/N x Seo Changbin

Warnings: Smut, Language, and mentions of violence

Genre: Werewolf AU

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary: Oftentimes, Y/N is fine with Changbin’s insistence that she and their new pup stay protected inside the cabin. But just one night outside the camp should be okay, right?

A/N: Changbin as a dad. Thank you.

Let me preface my observation with this: after nine months of labor, I thought that I might return to my regular nights of sleeping for a comfortable nine hours before starting a fresh new day. However, it was wishful thinking because, as it turns out, raising a pup is the equivalent of permanent insomnia, and I was lucky to even close my eyes for a few minutes in between feedings. In actuality, it was Changbin’s fault that our pup slept between the two us every night - depriving us both of intimacy and the comforts of stretching out our limbs without a wriggling bed mate who tossed and turned at whim.

Changbin insisted that we should enjoy these moments because our pup will eventually grow older and no longer wish to share her parent’s bed. He also claimed that it made him feel better when his mate and daughter were close to him in case anything happened. Which I tried my best to understand. But the biggest problem was actually managing to calm down a rambunctious three-year-old to the point where she wasn’t demanding our attention.

Maybe it was the small portion of sweets that I had allowed her to consume at dinner, but Leah was treating her parents like they were glorified playgrounds. At one point, I had rolled over onto my stomach and buried my face into the pillows, hoping to dissuade her playful attacks. And when she only received a groan of complaint from her mother, Leah turned her attention to Changbin who was more than willing to entertain her childish imagination. 

“I’m gonna be an even better hunter than daddy!” Leah exclaimed, wrestling on top of Changbin as he allowed her to hold down his arms.

“You pinned me!” Changbin said in mock surprise, and I snorted around a laugh as I felt the exhaustion heavy in my limbs.

“I win!” Leah giggled, squealing when she was wrapped into Changbin’s arms. His lips pressed soft kisses to her glowing cheeks, and there was almost a feeling similar to jealousy burning in my chest when I thought about how long it had been since Changbin and I were intimate.

I groaned at the thought. How pathetic was I? Feeling that way because my daughter was receiving so much attention from her father?

Changbin eventually tucked Leah into the space between her parents with a gentle touch. “I think mommy’s tired, sweetheart,” Changbin said. “How about we all try to get some sleep?”

“Okay,” Leah whispered in return, and I would’ve felt endeared at her easy compliance if I didn’t already knew that Leah would likely wake-up again in a few hours because pups apparently operated on very strange sleep schedules.

In any case, I purred in delight when Changbin pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead, whispering a muffled “I love you” against the skin.

“I love you both,” I said, closing my eyes because I was determined to get as much sleep as possible.

Changbin was gone for most of the following day - attending to his duties as the pack’s beta wolf. Meanwhile, I did my best to entertain my daughter - playing a variety of games while wondering if she might be more interested in something that required less exercise. However, perhaps it was good that I chased her around for most of the morning because Leah suddenly wanted to nap for once and I helped tuck her into bed.

“Is she sleeping?” Changbin asked from behind me, and I startled since I wasn’t expecting to hear him.

“Yeah,” I said. “Did you need something?”

“I left the evening patrols to Jisung,” he replied. 

“Really?” I asked with a mischievous smirk, leading him out of Leah’s bedroom and into the one we shared at the other end of the hallway. For the most part, Leah was agreeable with sleeping in her room during the day, even if she insisted that the imaginary monsters under her bed were too much during night. Which meant I received very few favorable opportunities to get Changbin alone like this.

I gently tugged on his shirt, pulling him into our bedroom. “How about you take care of me, daddy?” I asked, and Changbin growled before molding our lips together in a searing kiss. 

It didn’t take long for his hands to make a leisurely exploration of my body, tracing along my curves and shifting my clothes around to touch bare skin. “Shit, Y/N,” Changbin sighed, guiding one of my hands down to his bulging erection.

I smirked against his lips as I squeezed him through his pants. “Did you lock the door?” I whispered, moaning when his fingers crawled up the opening of my shorts. 

“Of course,” Changbin purred, jerking down my shorts before he lifted me over his shoulder. I gasped at the display of strength, shrieking when he landed a slap on my ass while carrying me to our bed. It was jolting when he threw me down onto the mattress, looking me over with narrowed eyes. “Take off your panties and spread your legs for me,” Changbin said, reaching down for his belt. “I want to see that pretty cunt all wet for my cock.”

I shivered at his dirty words, but it was hard to disobey the clear authority in Changbin’s voice as I quickly shoved my panties down my legs, holding my thighs apart so that I was exposed to him. “Binnie,” I cried, feeling a fresh wave of slick leak out of my core.

“Oh, shit, Y/N,” Changbin said, losing his jeans and underwear before jerking himself off with a tight fist. “Are you ready for me?”

“Fuck, yes,” I managed, feeling my entire body flush as he threw one of my legs over his shoulder, prodding the tip of his cock against my swollen cunt. He was gentle then - sinking into my expectant heat until the swell of his knot fit snugly against my opening.

“God, it’s been too long,” Changbin said, taking a deep breath like he was trying to resist the urge to fuck me hard into the mattress.

“It feels so good,” I said, bracing my hands on his shoulders as he gave an experimental thrust - dragging his cock perfectly along my tight walls.

“Hold still for me, babe,” he said, closing his eyes as he held tightly to my thighs, holding out my legs even further for a better angle at my pussy.

“Please just fuck me, Changbin,” I said, leaning up for another deep kiss. 

“If that’s what you want,” Changbin growled, and I was already trembling as he pressed his cock back inside of me at an impossible depth. His hips started rocking even faster, gradually picking up speed as I started to adjust around him - practically gaping for him at this point. “I’m gonna fill this pussy full of my cum,” he snarled, jerking back when I squeezed around him.

“Changbin, I-”

CLICK! The sound of the lock on our door being messed with was jarring, and Changbin and I looked at one another before jumping into action.

“Shit,” Changbin cursed, pulling his cock free before tucking himself into bed next to me, dragging the sheet over our exposed bodies. He reached for our underwear out of the floor, pushing my panties into my hand before we both turned to watch Leah poke her head inside the room.

“Why did you lock the door?” Leah asked as a single tear fell down the side of her puffy cheek. “Did mommy and daddy not want me?”

“Oh, we’re both sorry, sweetie,” I said, even though I was curious as to how my daughter managed to even get inside.

“We didn’t do it on purpose,” Changbin said, holding out his hands for Leah who immediately rushed around to his side of the bed.

Meanwhile, I managed to pull my underwear back on, wincing at the sensitivity of my clit against the fabric. It was hard to stay mad at my daughter, but I couldn’t deny that there was a small part of me that was still disappointed that I had been denied yet another orgasm. But there was nothing I could do to revive the mood, and I watched as my daughter settled against Changbin’s side as he began to recount his day.

The weekend approached fast, and both Leah and myself were disappointed when Changbin announced that he would be leaving camp for a few days to visit the Vampires with Chan.

“Is Daddy coming back?” Leah had asked with her best pout.

“I won’t be gone long,” Changbin promised her, standing up straight to offer me a quick kiss before he was closing the front door behind him.

It wasn’t often that Changbin took these long trips away from the pack, but this was the first time since Leah had been born. Thus, my mind was a whirlwind of anxieties, and did my best to entertain my daughter despite her occasional desire to go outside. “Maybe later,” I always said in return, and usually it was enough to convince her.

For the most part, Leah behaved for the first and second days of Changbin’s absence, albeit with a darker mood. Unfortunately, on the day before Changbin’s anticipated return, Leah must’ve hit her breaking point because she had never went this long without her father. I did my very best to appease her - attempting to coax her into bed because when she woke-up the next morning, Changbin should be back.

However, long after the sun went down Leah was restless sleeping next to me in bed. She had yet to stop tossing and turning - her scent bitter with an unpleasant smell while small whines filled the room. “Leah.” I sighed, hoping that my daughter would heed the warning in my tone.

“I can’t sleep,” she whispered to me.

“Why?” I asked.

“Well, sometimes daddy takes me on walks,” Leah said, turning over onto her side to fix me with a look.

“I don’t think we should go out with your father,” I said, shivering at the idea.

“Just for a little while?” Leah pouted. “I promise I’ll go right to sleep.”

“I don’t know...” I replied, still hesitant about the idea of leaving camp, but Leah’s pouting and whining was quite persistent, and I eventually gave in if she promised to go right to sleep when we returned.

In the next instance, I found myself following my daughter as we walked around the outskirts of the camp, listening as she mindlessly chattered about the changing leaves signaling Autumn’s impending arrival. “Let’s not go too far,” I warned her anxiously.

There was something dangerous permeating the air around us, and I wasn’t keen on discovering the source. But my daughter was still naive to the dangers of the world, and I immediately picked up my pace when I saw her scampering outside of the camp entrance. “Leah!” I hissed.

Immediately, my instincts were on high alert as I followed my daughter’s footsteps, stumbling over some old roots that were cracking through the ground. My eyes quickly adjusted to the dark night, and I found my daughter standing next to one of the old pine trees, waving up at a small barn owl who considered my daughter with an impenetrable stare.

“You can’t leave the camp,” I scolded her, snatching her hand even as she giggled in delight at her discovery. “Wait until we get back...”

“Mommy, what’s that?” Leah interrupted, and I swallowed hard as I followed her outstretched hand to a pile of underbrush that provided the perfect coverage for a pair of scarlet-red eyes.

The scent was putrid, and my wolf recognized the vampire’s distinctive smell as I pulled my daughter away from the impending danger. “Stay behind me!” I said, and I hated the look of fear in my daughter’s eyes. But I allowed my wolf to takeover as I shifted into a defensive form, digging my new claws into the fresh Earth.

The vampire didn’t take kindly to the sudden challenge, letting out a piercing snarl as it left the coverage of its hiding spot to slowly slink closer to where I was waiting. It had been years since my last battle training, and I would have to rely on what little knowledge I could remember. Because there was no backing down, and I would do whatever was necessary to protect my daughter.

Still, I was unprepared for the vampire to make the first move, launching itself at me with uncanny speed. The hit was enough to knock my on my back, feeling the air leave my lungs before I felt the first painful bite on my hindleg. I howled in protest, spinning around to fling the vampire away from me. I was back on my feet in an instant, rushing at the superior fighter with a pounding heart and a mother’s spirit chanting to protect my daughter.

I should’ve listened to Changbin when he offered to teach me practice moves, but I never thought that I would need them. But hindsight is 20/20, and I whimpered when the vampire wrapped its arms around my chest - fingertips digging into my skin. I recognized instantly that it was trying to break my sternum, and adrenaline kicked in as I tried desperately to fight against him. But it was to no avail, and I could only think about my daughter watching from the trees as her mother was torn apart by a rogue vampire.

Yet, the anticipated pain never came, and I was gasping for air when I felt the vampire’s weight leave my body - collapsing to the ground in pain. Everything was hurting, and I couldn’t differentiate between the pain spots as I looked up to see a flash of black cross my line of vision. The fight was vicious, and there was blood painting the grass and a foul stench filling the air.

But when I came to my senses - having recovered just a little from my attack - I instantly recognized the bigger wolf who had successfully wrestled the vampire to the ground. “Changbin,” I managed between heavy inhales, watching as the onyx-black wolf held up the vampire’s head between his teeth.

Meanwhile, I could feel the presence of my daughter nearby - pressing her little hands against my fur. “Daddy?” Leah inquired, hesitantly peaking her head from around my raised haunches.

The simple call had a strange effect on my enraged mate, and Changbin dropped the corpse from between his teeth before shifting back to his human form. I quickly followed suit, meeting him halfway across the forest before throwing my arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry,” I cried into his shoulder, feeling comforted by the familiar sensation of his warm arms wrapped around me - ignoring the pain that was slowly dissipating as my enhanced healing took effect.

“It’s okay,” Changbin whispered. “It was a rogue. Felix warned us about a wandering coven of nomads.”

I nodded, still feeling my heart racing inside my chest, and I pulled away to glance over at Leah who was still watching us with wide, terror-filled eyes. “Come here, sweetie,” I said, and Leah quietly walked in between her parents, gripping tight to Changbin’s waist.

“Thank you, daddy,” Leah said and Changbin chuckled as he ran his fingers through his hair affectionately.

“What did daddy tell you? He’ll always be around to protect his family.”

Leah nodded, and I felt nothing but safe and secure with the two most important people in my world next to my side.