#took almost two months off cos life kicked me in the ass
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Hoping to be back on regularly scheduled programming this week… sorry
#i don’t know how some of you do it#took almost two months off cos life kicked me in the ass#but im back#never again#✎𓂃⊹ monologue💬 .ᐟ。°˖⌕#moominsuki™
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“Be Still, Just for Me” Bakugo x Fem!Reader, Ch. 44
First Chapter
Previous Chapter
(all chapters are available in my masterlist!)
Summary: Bakugo Katsuki, a Pro Hero in Japan, is used to the routine: wake up, kick villain ass, rinse and repeat. He’s living his dream, soaking in all he’s ever wanted and worked for.
During the brief moment he lets his guard down, everything changes.
Tossed into a world without quirks with nothing but the clothes on his back, he’s forced to accept the help of someone who knows exactly who he is: a manga character who should definitely not exist.
Chapter length: 13.5k
Warnings: T+ for language, no warnings
Reminder that the A03, Wattpad, and Quotev links will be in a reblog so this post shows up in search results! They’re also in my profile header! <3
Co-written and plot mapped by @rose-sparks13
thanks to all my beta readers!!! <3
Chapter Title: Something Missing, Something Gained
Chapter note: hhhhHHHHH fucking SORRY this chapter took goddamn ages to finish. Between writers block, adopting two cats in january (WHICH WAS NOT PLANNED AND THIS CHAPTER WAS GOING TO BE WRITTEN 2+ YEARS AGO SO IT WAS JUST A LUCKY COINCIDENCE I SWEAR), and being exhausted from working long hours and tight deadlines, writing regularly just wasn't on the table. ANYWAY here it is, please enjoy, thanks for your patience, all kudos/favs/comments are read and appreciated lkajsldkjaf
This is a filler/segue chapter for ch. 45 that, if I play my cards right (aka if i write my ass off…) I want to post on Katsuki's birthday, 4/20. It's an important one :)
if there are spelling errors, just ignore that shit bc i literally gave my fingers cramps finishing this chapter 10 mins ago :)))) appreciate it ----------------------
Bakugo Katsuki was lonely.
Not in a way that had anything to do with a lack of people to talk to or things to do. His life as a pro Hero kept him busy just like he wanted and needed. Spare time was a luxury, and he generally didn't mind a spare morning or evening to recuperate and rest… at least, he used to enjoy those respites before you came along and flipped his priorities and general outlook on life right on its head.
While in your world, time was basically all he had, and when you weren't around there wasn't much to do. Now that he was back home with all his luxuries and comforts and familiarity, his apartment was just… too damn quiet; and Katsuki normally felt perfectly at home with solitude.
He gradually found himself repeating pointless tasks and chores. He even kept the TV on in the background just for the noise which he rarely did months ago. Obviously, something - or someone - was missing despite the reality that things were just as they'd always been. Maybe "missing" wasn't the right word. No, more like… addition. Katsuki needed to add something that had never been here before, but he had no fucking clue how to fill the gap in the mile-long steps leading up to contentment.
That stupid New Years party Uraraka invited him to did a bit to quench these lonesome stretches of time. He almost didn't go, using his busy patrol schedule without a sidekick as an excuse, but fucking Kirishima rearranged their patrols without telling him just to make sure his alibi no longer worked; what an overly-considerate ass.
Just to give himself something to do and keep his hands busy, Katsuki went out and bought what he needed to make a batch of toshikoshi soba. Though his family did little in the way of tradition, he knew the routine behind what most people did on New Year's eve. Plus, Todoroki would be there and anyone with working taste buds knew that idiot could barely boil water.
Uraraka made mochi earlier - mostly so she could eat it herself - which left Deku to help Katsuki in the kitchen. Well, tried to help, anyway. Stubborn mule that he was, Katsuki attempted to kick Deku out of his own kitchen, but the attempt was half-hearted at best and he gave up before resigning to spitting out orders.
"Mar-san is still with their family, right?" Deku measured out the cooking sake and mirin while Katsuki impatiently kept an eye on the boiling kombu.
"Mmhm. Won't be back for another week," he grunted before taking a sip of the sake provided by the hosts. The last time he got drunk was-
"Do… did you tell them about… you know…?" He didn't have to spell it out for Katsuki to understand.
Frowning behind his glass, he took a longer sip of his drink. "They know. But I don't want to talk about any of that. Not tonight." If he was going to drink, then getting worked up was no doubt a terrible idea.
Uraraka walked in holding a plate of slowly-disappearing mochi with Yaoyorozu following behind. "How's the soba coming along?"
"Just fine," Katsuki grumbled before removing the kombu to drain as the water came to a boil. Deku and Uraraka shared a brief glance while Yaoyorozu cleared her throat from the entryway. “Wasn’t Todoroki supposed to be here?”
With her cheeks full of mochi, Uraraka said, “Oh yeah, he said he ran into a villain emergency earlier and was going to see his siblings afterwards. He’ll stop by if he has time, but it’ll be late.”
Before Katsuki could let out some snarky relief that Todoroki wouldn’t have the opportunity to ruin any of the food, Yaoyorozu chimed in. "How about I make some tea for everyone?"
Jumping on the opportunity to change the subject, Deku nodded. "Yes, thank you Yaoyorozu-san. How's Jirou-san, by the way?"
He really fucking wished this boring as hell small talk would happen somewhere else since he couldn't leave the soba unattended. But while he was dumping dried bonito flakes into the kombu water, Uraraka came up beside him and held out an obviously handmade mochi.
"Stop pouting and eat it. It's New Year's Eve!"
"I don't want any," he argued as she wiggled it in front of his mouth with that same stupid determined grin she wore back at the cafe.
"If you don't eat this mochi, I'm going to float you to the ceiling and not let you down until after midnight." Her expression didn't budge a centimeter under his glare, which honestly weirded him out enough to snatch the mochi from her fingers and angrily stuff it into his mouth with his lips now coated in rice flour. "Good! I'll go see if Tsuyu-chan wants some." As if this was a completely normal interaction, she walked out of the kitchen and disappeared around the corner.
The remaining three people exchanged baffled looks as Katsuki forced his attention back on the boiling pot as he chewed with puffed-out cheeks.
"Is… Uraraka-san feeling alright?" Yaoyorozu set the electric kettle to simmer before pulling out a fancy-looking tin of tea leaves.
Chopping green onions after wiping rice powder from his mouth, Katsuki interjected. "I'll assume it's the pregnancy talking-"
"Kacchan!"
"What?! Isn't pregnancy brain a thing? I'm not gonna argue with her over stupid mochi when she's floated me before for less." Their bickering was hushed to avoid the subject of their conversation from overhearing.
Yaoyorozu carefully measured out tea leaves and added, "though I wouldn't put it so crudely as Bakugo-kun, it is true that pregnancy can affect mood and emotions. Pregnancy shrinks the brain's grey matter and greatly alters the estrogen and progesterone levels which can definitely affect how Uraraka-san acts, even several years after the baby is born."
The two men stared at her before Katsuki smugly turned back to Deku. "Told you."
"I-I know all of that," he affirmed. "It's not like we didn't research and prepare beforehand. It's just taking some getting used to is all… but if all she's doing right now is forcing us to eat mochi, then that's not so bad, heh."
Rolling his eyes, Katsuki went back to finishing up the soba while Yaoyorozu focused on her tea. She placed a hot mug next to his mostly-empty cup of sake before handing one to Deku as well. "Uraraka-san will be fine. She has all of us for all the support she wants and needs. I believe the new year will bring many good things."
It fucking better, Katsuki thought to himself while mourning the last two months of misery he’d put himself through; he couldn’t continue dealing with this same level of burdensome bullshit… not alone, anyway.
When the soba was finally done, everyone gathered around to eat. The group was small since Hero schedules were chaotic and unpredictable at times, but they tried their best to keep in touch when the opportunity arose. Todoroki hadn’t shown up yet, so they assumed he probably decided to stay with his siblings. Bakugo saved a bowl of soba for him to pick up later.
Slurping buckwheat noodles symbolized gaining resilience and strength to face the coming year, two things Katsuki never thought he'd lack. Someone who wasn't even here and he hadn't seen in over two months really had crumbled his resolute worldview while putting value and perspective on the small details he now missed.
"Thanks for making soba, Bakugo-kun," Tsuyu said before blowing away the steam from her dripping chopsticks.
Everyone else hummed in agreement. "Mm, it's good! Similar to how my mom would make it growing up." Uraraka noisily slurped hot noodles and dashi while Katsuki grumbled.
"No shit it's good, I made it." The words came out on reflex, his fingers nearly dropping his own chopsticks as he remembered the many times you complimented his cooking with earnest enthusiasm. Time to put the past behind me. Tensing his hand, Katsuki dug into his own soba and eyed his shallow cup of sake.
As everyone glued their eyes to the clock to celebrate the stroke of midnight, Katsuki lounged on the couch with flushed cheeks and a lopsided scowl. Trying to keep his eyes open proved difficult since he only stayed awake so late when he had overnight patrols or rare emergencies. He only drank twice as much as he meant to while people around him talked about New Year’s resolutions and leaving the mistakes of the past in the dust. "I'm drinking Cheeks's share since she can't have any," he argued when Tsuyu questioned if he was feeling alright while holding a glass of water out to him. The pregnant host tried not to pout at the fact that she still had many months left before she could drink again.
Unfortunately for Bakugo, his inability to hold his alcohol led to him falling asleep on their couch before 1 A.M.
Despite the cushions feeling different and the orientation to the room not matching his memory at all, maybe he subconsciously desired some tiny reminder of you - even if it meant sleeping on someone else's couch on New Year's eve - before trying to move forward with a fresh slate.
When Deku and Uraraka woke up the next morning, he was gone without a trace of ever having been there at all.
With Mar still in Puerto Rico, Kirishima occasionally filled in to patrol with him just like old times before their independent careers really took off.
"Soo, I hear that you finally spilled the beans to Mar. How'd that go?"
Katsuki groaned into the high collar of his winter uniform. "Let me guess, they wanted to gossip or whatever as soon as they left Japan?” His wrist grenades swung heavily down at his sides, though he barely noticed the weight that would be cumbersome to the average person as he and Kirishima tracked through the snow-covered sidewalks.
The red head chuckled. "That about sums it up, yeah. How did that conversation go, anyway? Hopefully better than ours," he said while rubbing the back of his neck. He kept his hair down rather than tied up during these cold winter months.
Kirishima waved to a few onlookers who noticed them while Katsuki kept his eyes forward and attention on scanning the area for anything out of the ordinary. "Don't know if 'better' is the right word. I picked somewhere public but out of the way to avoid them making a scene, but they did anyway and I almost strangled the damn kid," he tiredly admitted.
Although he went into far less detail than he had previously - summing up the story with an explanation on where he was, who you were, and why he’d been so fucked in the head since coming back home - Mar ran with any detail he let drop and came up with their own wild conclusions.
A laugh that grated on Katsuki’s patience bubbled up from Kirishima at his admission. “They are just nineteen, but they were worried like the rest of us,” he explained while shaking his hair free of falling snowflakes.
"I don't need the kid preoccupied with shit that isn't their business, which is why I told them just what they needed to hear so Mar can put all their focus on why I picked 'em to come here in the first place." He dreaded the knowing looks they'd give him once they returned to Japan, but he'd put up with it like he did everything else. What he really wanted to do was change the subject. "Kirishima," he said, making his friend turn as they continued to patrol. "You volunteer at one of those animal shelters or whatever sometimes, right?"
Kirishima raised an eyebrow and nodded. "Yeah, I go to a couple different ones when I have time to try and promote adoptions and stuff, why?"
New year, new changes, new Katsuki. "Just thinking…if you like hanging around dogs so much, why haven't you grabbed one of your own yet?"
After years of making fun of the guy for not wearing a shirt in cold weather, Kirishima finally conceded after catching a bad cold the previous year and had an insulated support item made to work with his quirk. He still wasn't exactly used to it, though, occasionally fidgeting with the fabric and acting itchy even though it was no doubt warmer than wearing nothing at all. "I've thought about it, but I think I'd rather help other people find a furry family member. Our schedules are crazy and dogs need walks and potty breaks and play time. I wouldn't be home enough to really give a dog what it would need without getting someone to take it out everyday… would be kinda nice to see a tail wag when I get home, though." He laughed with a sharp-toothed smile as Katsuki mulled over his words. "You thinking about adopting or something? You never really struck me as a pet guy."
Silence hung between them for a good ten seconds before Katsuki answered. "Y/N had this old lady who lived down the hall from her. We never understood each other, but she shoved homemade cookies into my hands one day because I helped carry her groceries."
"Ah, helping old ladies; a classic Hero move!” Kirishima elbowed Katsuki who shoved him right back with a small explosion that fizzled out against his hardened skin. "Haha, don't be salty. Anyway, what does an old lady have to do with pets?"
"I was getting to the point, dummy," he chided while scowling at his foggy breath visible in the frigid air. "She had this yappy, one-eyed dog that looked as old as she was. We ended up watching Charlie while-"
"... Charlie? That's a weird name for a dog," Kirishima mused while no doubt thinking of equally-stupid pet names.
Katsuki actually agreed with a smirk hidden behind the high collar of his own insulated outfit. "I didn't name him, so blame the old bat for that one. But I also didn't grow up with pets. For a little rat with one eye, he was good company even if it was just for a few hours." He paused while they let a group of school kids cross the street, a few of them waving and gawking at the Pro Heroes. One of them even wore a Dynamight branded jacket, one that looked authentic and not like the ugly knockoffs he loathed seeing online; even for someone as stone-cold as Katsuki, it melted his stubborn heart the tiniest bit.
Once the kids had passed, he and Kirishima continued on their patrol route, turning down a side street to eventually find their way up to the top of one of the taller buildings to survey the city from above.
"... What were we talking a- oh, right, dogs!" Katsuki smacked his face with his glove as Kirishima recalled the conversation from less than ten minutes ago. "You were talking about the old lady's dog with the weird name, right?"
Squatting on the edge of the building with his arms resting on his knees, Katsuki lowered his eyes to the ant-sized blips scurrying around on white snow. "Mm. Point was, I never felt like anything was lacking in my life until now. Being alone and on my own was fine when not kicking villain ass." He didn't move as he saw Kirishima sit beside him from his peripheral vision. "But now, it's quiet… and it bugs me and I hate it. I fucked up by holding back what I wanted because I didn't know what would happen. One regret. And I don't repeat mistakes."
Kirishima hummed and kicked his feet over the edge of the building while staring up at the cloudy sky. "So no regrets this time, huh? New year, new opportunities, new changes. You know I'm just a couple floors down if you ever wanna hang out."
He ran a gloved hand through his hair with a huff. "It's not about… fuck, I don't know how to explain it. I just need a change, alright?" In reality, Katsuki felt a strong urge to put his latent energy to good use. To take care of something and help it grow. He was so accustomed to destruction and fire that the idea of putting his effort towards a living thing that might depend on him sounded uncharacteristically satisfying.
"OK, alright, I getcha," Kirishima said. "Well, I gave my thoughts on dogs, but there's lots of other animals out there. Shinsou's the resident cat guy if that's more up your alley," he suggested. Sinking deeper into his collar, Katsuki groaned. "Pfft, don't be so stubborn. You two get along better than you think."
As much as he hated to admit it, Kirishima was right: if he wanted to know more about cats as a pet option, Shinsou was definitely who he should contact. But he hadn't talked with the guy at all since that disaster outing with Kaminari. If they happened to run into each other while on patrol, any interaction was strictly professional. Katsuki guessed that setting aside his pride was just part of the routine now.
"Maybe," he answered while narrowing his eyes at some erratic movement down below. "Get up, we have work to do."
"Damn, you're right," he said while hopping up from the edge of the building. "Wanna do Bombs Away? An oldie but a goodie."
"Tch, no shit." Since their quirks worked well together, they'd developed a few collaborative moves back when they were still early in their careers. Kirishima grabbed onto Katsuki's shoulders with a tight grip before the two of them leapt without fear right over the edge of the building, explosions propelling them down towards the villains who were about to be cannon balled by an explosive rock raining down from the sky.
A week and a half passed before Katsuki had an afternoon to himself, but there was little time to rest up or relax. He slid on a warm coat, scarf, sunglasses, and dark beanie poised on the back of his head with his bangs poking out to both keep his ears warm and help obscure his identity. Where he was going, having strangers spot him sounded like an embarrassing nightmare.
The train ride downtown didn't take long and at least it was warmer compared to stepping outside. With his hands shoved into his pockets and face half-covered by his scarf Katsuki walked, snow crunching under his boots, until he stood in front of an unsuspecting building displaying a small sign out front with the picture of a cat and paw prints illustrating to head up to the second floor.
This was such a stupid idea, but he wasn't going to back down now. You'd probably go all starry-eyed upon finding this place, dragging him inside without a second thought; and because he was a stupid lovestruck sap for you, he wouldn't even argue that much.
A little bell rang overhead as he opened the door and was greeted by someone behind the main counter. "Hello! Welcome to Cat Café Vanilla! Can I help you?”
He’d done some passive research on local cat cafés since it seemed like a decent option to interact with some cats while also seeing how other people engaged with them since he was basically going in blind. This place had good ratings and didn’t appear especially crowded since it was a weekday morning when the average person went to their boring office jobs just like you.
Walking up to the counter with his hands still tucked into his jacket, Katsuki said, “Yeah… how does this work? Never been here before."
“Oh! Let me explain,” she said while gesturing to a plaque displayed on the counter. “It’s ¥200 for every ten minutes, up to ¥2400 for the entire day, so you pay by how long you’d like to stay. We also offer coffee, tea, and snacks that will be brought to you once allowed into the cat area. You can also purchase treats for the cats for an extra fee. Do you have any questions?”
That was cheaper than he expected it to be, but he had no idea how long was “long enough” to see if he even liked cats or not. An hour, maybe? Yeah, that sounded reasonable and not weird at all. After paying for the time slot along with a cup of tea and storing his wet boots in a secure locker, she led him through a door to an area that lived up to the fancy-looking decor in the photos on their website.
The café took up the entire second floor of the building and was divided into separate sections. One section had plush couches and another had bookshelves filled with popular manga and books; hell, there was even a room with simple beds in case you wanted to take a nap.
"Feel free to make yourself comfortable and we will bring your tea to you." Now left to his own devices, Katsuki took in his surroundings, which obviously included quite a lot of cats. Even though the place looked clean and organized, the light animal smell permeated the air making his nose wrinkle. He wasn't used to being around so many animals, though he'd heard that cats were generally cleaner than dogs.
A small empty couch in a corner called to him, and there was even a cat already napping in one of the seats when he quietly sat down. Its orange and white fur looked soft and fluffy as the cat paid him little mind. Should he just reach out his hand or…?
Back when he'd helped dogsit Charlie, Katsuki watched and mimicked what you did. Plus, dogs seemed more energetically reactive to noises and touch in comparison to a sleeping cat. Twisting his lips against the front of his teeth, he took his hand out of his jacket and tentatively gave the cat a gentle pet on the back. The only reaction he could see were orange ears swiveling for a few seconds alongside a “mrrp” before returning to their original sleeping position.
"That easy, huh?"
He nodded when the same host set a hot cup of tea in front of him five minutes later. Feeling something rub against his leg, Katsuki looked under the small table to see a different cat looking up at him with a bizarrely smushed-in face and a tangle of white fur. “Mrow,” it said as if asking him for something that he no doubt didn’t have. At least they don’t hate me on the spot, he thought while holding out a hand to let the cat sniff his finger before it rubbed whiskers and fur against his knuckle; if the smell of his nitroglycerine-like sweat on his palms bothered the cat, it didn’t show it.
Maybe he could get used to this.
About twenty minutes into his kitty cat café session, Katsuki’s lazy focus on getting one of the cats to chase around a feather tied to a string was interrupted when a shadow blocked out the soft light of a nearby lamp.
“Never thought I’d find you in a place like this.”
Pulling his head up with a grunt, Katsuki narrowed his eyes at the low, familiar voice and messy lavender hair. "Fucking figures you'd be here to ruin my day."
Shinsou just smirked before taking a seat on the couch perpendicular to Katsuki's. “Your day, huh? I’ve been coming here for several years and have never seen you. So if anything, you’re ruining my day,” he shot back while Katsuki glared. "You never struck me as the animal-lover type, so tell me what made a grumpy ass like you come to a cat café of all places."
The two cats nearby must've sensed Katsuki's agitation at being found out since they scrambled away to the other side of the room, the bells on their collars jingling along the way. Kirishima had suggested talking to Shinsou if he was serious about learning more about cats, but this was not how or where he wanted that conversation to take place.
"One: shut up. Two: never mention to anyone that I was here or I’ll spill your dumb crush on Kaminari to his face. And three: tell me what you know about cats and why they don't suck." He counted off on his fingers while Shinsou's face remained stoic - outside of his twitch at the Kaminari comment - as he stared with tired, unblinking eyes back at Katsuki.
“How the hell do you know that I like Kaminari?” His hushed tone was laced with urgent annoyance.
Katsuki scoffed and leaned back into the couch cushion. “Everyone knows… well, besides Duce-Face. I recommend hurrying the fuck up if you’re serious.”
“You’re the last person I want relationship advice from,” he spat. “Why do you even care, anyway?”
Turning away, Katsuki thought about how much the regret of his last moments with you still stung months later. With an annoyed huff through his nose, Katsuki insisted, “Just don’t let something you want pass you by, because you might not get a second chance.”
"You done giving unsolicited advice?" When he didn't get an answer, Shinsou wordlessly held out his hand as a nearby cat sniffed before jumping right up into his lap and settling down, perfectly content. "Fine. I’ll keep your secret so long as you keep mine. As for the third point, I'll indulge you if only for the sake of the cats here not having to sniff out your sour attitude."
It wasn't much, but Katsuki reluctantly accepted it. Searching on the internet was well and good, but he had no way of parsing the reliable information from the garbage since he couldn't draw from his own experience. Shinsou could potentially help him understand if a pet would help fill the unfamiliar void in his life or if he just needed a new distraction.
He spoke while petting the grey and white tabby in his lap who tilted its head back to allow better access for chin scratches. "I've always liked cats. To generalize, they're quiet, calm, sleep a lot, and can live perfectly fulfilling lives inside so long as you give them everything they need. But just like people, they have their own personalities. Some are shy or nervous, especially if they were strays or had shitty owners while others love attention and playing around." They both looked up to see two cats chasing each other across the room, tails swishing excitedly as one jumped up on a chair to escape the other. "Most people have preferences when it comes to pets, and mine just happens to be cats."
Just like how the high energy of dogs seemed great for Kirishima, the relaxed personality of cats matched up with the guy with constant bags under his eyes. Katsuki remained quiet as he glanced down at the dregs of tea left in the bottom of his empty cup.
"Look," Shinsou said, face unreadable as he gestured toward his couch neighbor. "It's none of my business why you're here or if you're looking to adopt a cat. Just know that if you're trying to fill some temporary boredom, then pick up a hobby and not a pet. Cats can live upwards of fifteen years if taken care of and treated well. Make sure you're prepared for that commitment no matter what you do."
"I'm not stupid," Katsuki bit back with an insulted frown. "I might not have owned pets before, but I know they aren't fucking toys you can toss when you get tired of 'em. If I do something, I do it all the way."
He wished he had taken his own advice almost three months ago, but there was no use moping about something he couldn't change, especially not after vowing to finally get his shit together.
Shinsou stared him down with tired eyes as if trying to pick him apart and judge his unsaid reasons for coming to a cat café of all places. Taking care of an animal for more than a decade was a long damn time… but he hadn't committed to anything yet; he was just weighing his options to see if anything stuck.
"No matter what you choose to do, I'll say this: even though most of the cats here are adoptable, my cats were either from shelters or found as strays on the streets. As Heroes, we have the means to give them a pretty good quality of life." He looked down at the purring cat in his lap who was making gentle biscuits in the air as he scratched under its ear. "The cats here have open space and a lot of human interaction, but shelter animals are generally kept in cages or small enclosures just due to having so many animals and limited space. Consider checking out those places and talking to the caretakers there if you want to talk to people more experienced than me."
Katsuki didn't expect Shinsou to dump so much information and advice into his lap so freely. In a way, seriously considering this kind of lifestyle and responsibility shift overwhelmed him a bit, but he'd rather know what he was potentially jumping into than be surprised when it was too late.
The two of them continued to talk sparsely until an employee came to notify Katsuki that his hour was up. He stood up, fruitlessly brushing stray cat hair from his dark jeans before starting to follow her back towards the front. However, without turning around, he mumbled a, "thanks," obviously meant for Shinsou before disappearing towards the front of the café.
He had a lot of thinking to do.
When Katsuki came into the agency the next morning for patrol, he found what looked like a present on his desk. A bright red bag stuffed with orange tissue paper sat next to his computer as he narrowed his eyes at the unexpected gift. Christmas was over and done with, so what the hell was this all about?
Turning it around, he saw a small card attached to the handle and opened it to see some sloppy Japanese which immediately identified who it was from.
Happy late Christmas Bakugo-senpai! I brought these from home since I know you like to cook. I can teach you some of my mom's Puertorican recipes if you want!
~ Mar
"Really hope I wasn't supposed to get them anything," he said under his breath as he tossed out the tissue paper, unaware that several sets of eyes were watching him from across the floor outside of his office. Giving gifts was not his forté since he leaned more into acts of service and only got presents when obligation called for it.
"I hope he likes the stuff I brought," Mar commented while peeking around the corner to watch. Something that had tormented them since moving to Japan was the lack of familiar foods and seasonings from Puerto Rico. Despite enjoying all the new foods that Japan offered, Mar missed their mom's cooking. Unfortunately, they did not pick up the cooking gene and their attempts at recreating familiar dishes suffered as a result. Bakugo joked about how it was almost as terrible-looking as Kirishima’s food the few times he caught them grabbing a homemade container from the office fridge. "Especially after all the… y'know, stuff he told me. About you-know-who. Maybe it'll cheer him up?"
Kirishima clapped a large hand over Mar's shoulder. “If it’s anything he can experiment with when it comes to food, he’ll use it. And even if he doesn't always know how to show it, I'm sure he appreciates it,” he whispered while silently hoping Bakugo would “accidentally” make too much again and bring in leftovers.
"You got Dynamight-san a gift?" Mar and Kirishima turned to find the mousy employee standing silently behind them, obviously eavesdropping on their whispering. "And um, who is 'you-know-who'?"
Usually, Kirishima attempted to avoid her when possible ever since Mar revealed that her main motivation for interviewing for the job was that she was infatuated with him. Dealing with fans was one thing he could manage fairly easily, but working directly with someone who probably had some kind of parasocial relationship with his public persona was… awkward.
The whiskers around her nose twitched as Mar nodded and glanced quickly to Kirishima who lived up to his reputation of being about as subtle as an open book with his wide eyes. "Uh, yeah. Some spices and stuff from Puerto Rico… adobo, sofrito, sazón, things that I haven’t been able to find here in Japan,” they explained while subtly attempting to scoot back down the hallway. “And… you-know-who is just someone who has been bugging Bakugo-senpai lately. Like a weird fan or whatever.” Of course, that specific description came to mind as Mar stared at her hoping and praying that she’d be on her way soon.
After about five seconds of awkward silence, she nodded as if in lagged understanding, her eyes drifting to Kirishima briefly before flitting back to Mar’s face. “I see. W-well, I hope Dynamight-san feels better soon.” Scooting past the two of them towards her desk, she mumbled, “good m-morning Red Riot-san…”
Kirishima let out a tensely-held breath and leaned against the wall facing away from Bakugo’s office. “Man, that was close… you know I’m no good at lying.”
“Everyone knows that,” Mar admitted nonchalantly, which garnered a harsh side-eye from Kirishima.
As the two of them talked just around the corner from the main floor area, heavy footsteps pounded down the aisle between desks and squeaky office chairs.
"What are you idiots doing?" Bakugo's sudden interruption caused Mar and Kirishima to jump, Mar dropping their phone screen-side down right onto the floor.
"Nooo! Puñeta…se jodio…"
Standing with his arms crossed, Bakugo stared at them with a flat, unreadable expression. "Why'd you get me a gift? Don't think it will butter me up to get out of all the paperwork you missed while away."
"C'mon, man. It's just a present," Kirishima pressed with a yawn, still not fully awake this morning.
Mar sighed in relief as they examined their phone looking for cracks in the screen; paying extra for a reinforced case apparently paid off. "It wasn't to get out of work! I just figured you'd like it since you cook and stuff," they affirmed with a shrug. "And maybe I can teach you some, like, Puertorican recipes. Plantains are hard to find here, though… but arroz con gandules should be doable. I brought back coffee for myself because it's super strong, but I know you prefer tea so… what?"
A wide grin spread across Kirishima's face while Bakugo's eye twitched. "Aww, it's just kind of cute how you thought so much about his gifts-"
"Eww, gross, I’m not cute,” they argued, nose wrinkled and mouth twisting in disgust. “I’m almost old enough to drink, so-”
Katsuki stepped forward, placed a hand on their head, and said with a snort, “Kid, you have a permanent baby face and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
Puffing out their cheeks while Kirishima snickered nearby, Mar stepped out from under Katsuki’s palm. “At least I’m not all old and stuff like you two! I still have my youthful vigor!”
Immediately, Kirishima’s face fell while Bakugo’s teeth ground together like gritty sandpaper. “I… I’m not old, am I…?”
“I’M TWENTY-FIVE YOU LITTLE BRAT! THAT’S NOT FUCKING OLD!” Immediately realizing that they just called their short-tempered boss old, Mar looked quickly to the doorway leading to the stairs before bolting around Kirishima who was having some kind of age realization crisis judging by his frown. Bakugo yelled after them, chasing Mar like a pissed off cat hunting a mouse who sniffed a bit too closely to the danger zone.
Ignoring the commotion, Kirishima promptly shuffled into the office kitchen and asked the first person he saw, with the saddest puppy eyes a grown man of his stature could muster, if he was old.
Once things calmed down and Katsuki reassured Kirishima that they were still in their prime, he thought more seriously about this whole pet situation. Shinsou’s cautionary words nagged at Katsuki as he wondered whether putting all of this effort into something completely new and unfamiliar in the hope that the lifestyle change would satisfy him… or if he really did just need a new hobby; one that didn’t involve another living thing, at least.
He was never a particularly creative person outside of battle strategies and cooking, and he already excelled at those. The past two months also involved him reading through books that he swore he never had time for before, including finishing the novel you'd gifted him. It was almost cruel because he could tell the story wasn't close to being wrapped up, but he'd never have an opportunity to read the sequel.
No, what he needed was something unfamiliar to focus his pent-up energy on. As much as he wished he was in denial about it, Katsuki actually enjoyed taking care of you in the small, insignificant things you seemed to appreciate. He never used to care about anyone other than himself, selfishness and pride staple ingredients to his material make up. But when he started equating saving people with victory, giving a damn about others just came along with it.
God, he was so whipped and you weren't even here to rub it in his face. He'd blasted Kaminari in the face one day when he jokingly said that Katsuki was a "kept man" since he had lived in your apartment rent-free, cooked, cleaned, and had everything he needed provided by you. It wasn’t his damn fault that he had to cycle through the same four things to keep him from dying of boredom when you weren’t around!
It could’ve been worse; besides, Katsuki found his own kind of selfish satisfaction in knowing something he did - no matter how small - brought a stupid smile to your face.
When he got home from patrol the next evening, Katsuki leaned against the headboard of his bed after a hot shower and a full belly with his laptop balanced across his thighs. A quick search turned up animal shelters in the city, but most of them seemed to be outside Tokyo. He randomly clicked on one and began scrolling through the site's adoption process, fees, etc., before navigating to a page where you could scroll through all of their available animals by species, age, and gender.
He already decided that a cat would probably fit better with his lifestyle than a dog, but when the results came up, Katsuki balked. "Over a hundred cats on here? I'm not looking though all these," he mumbled as he scrolled down the page.
"What the hell is with these names…? Hamburger? Mr. Wiggles? Beefcake? Who names their fucking pet something so dumb?! Charlie isn't too bizarre in comparison." He wondered if people weren't adopting these cats because of their stupid names, but he also guessed that the names probably drew in people, especially kids, who thought they were funny. He could always change its name, right?
Some of the cats looked very similar to the ones roaming around the café while others looked like they were older or had medical issues, which made him wonder how long some of them had been living at the shelter. Most people probably wanted kittens because they were cute, but they were also probably the biggest pain in the ass to take care of. He’d never babysat before, but young kittens and puppies were probably bursting with curious, destructive energy.
“No thanks to that… fuck it.” Katsuki shut his laptop and leaned his head against the hard headboard with determined huff. If he thought too much about it, then he’d second guess himself, and he already faced the consequences of waiting out of uncertainty once. He’d show up to one of the shelters, talk to the people there with more hands-on knowledge than he could reasonably research, and decide if this was something he truly wanted for himself.
Determined to make good on the New Year’s promise to be better and stronger - not just for himself, but for the people around him who actually wanted to see him happy - he managed to fall asleep with comparatively little trouble despite still feeling the slow, dull ache of loneliness in a bed too wide and cold for his own comfort.
The train was too crowded for his liking with people shoulder-to-shoulder for the morning rush, but the shelters were never open past sundown so he had to take advantage of the little free time he had. He'd picked a different shelter to visit than the one he searched through previously since this one didn't require an annoyingly long train ride. Luckily, with his scarf pulled up to his nose and a wool hat yanked down over his ears, no one recognized or bugged him as he faced the windows and steel with his own tired and blurry reflection staring back at him.
It wasn't hard to find the place once he stepped off the platform and back into the cold winter air even though he had to walk a good distance until buildings and city noises became more subdued. Real estate in Tokyo was hard to come by, especially if you were looking for a bit of peace and quiet.
Gravel and snow crunched under his boots as he made his way towards the front of the two-story building. At least the cats were warmer inside than he was outside…
A small bell jingled above him as he opened the door, the smell of cats evident through his scarf and stronger than back at the café. To his right, an older woman sat behind a desk typing away at a computer before turning to him with all three of her eyes.
"Hello, can I help you? Do you have an appointment?"
"Appointment?" Shit, I didn't think I needed one to just come and look around. "No, I don't have one, but I'm just here to look or whatever," he answered as he tugged down the front of his scarf.
The woman hummed before glancing back at her computer screen. “Well, we’re generally appointment-only so that we can vet potential adopters and to make sure that-"
Another person, this time a younger guy maybe around his own age wearing the same light blue shirt with the adoption agency logo printed on the front, walked up and interrupted their conversation. "Hey Shizu, can you look over this paperwork real… you look familiar…" The guy made a double-take at Katsuki who really hoped he wasn't about to deal with some annoying fan moment when an idea struck him. For once, maybe he could use his namesake to his advantage?
Unwinding his scarf from around his neck, Katsuki hoped he wouldn't have to go all the way back home with a waste of a trip and nothing to show for it. "Probably. I'm Pro Hero Dynamight." When the name registered, the man's eyes lit up with recognition while the older woman just raised an eyebrow, obviously unimpressed or completely out of the loop.
"I knew I recognized you! My kid always has her eyes glued to the TV when you're on. I think she wants to be a Hero someday, too, but she's only three so that won't be anytime soon… " He continued to ramble before nearly slapping his coworker in the face with the clipboard in his hands. "I'll be happy to show you all the cats we have up for adoption," he offered before leaving his paperwork for the now-annoyed older woman to finish up. Katsuki walked around the desk led by the starstruck fan, feeling only a pinprick of guilt at using his status to get around what the average person couldn't.
"So, uh, what exactly are you looking for? Wow, sorry, I didn't even ask if you're actually here to adopt and just assumed.. I mean-"
"I probably will if I find one that fits. I've never owned cats, but I wanna know more about the responsibilities involved. And what better way to find out than come here for myself?" The two men paused in front of several rows of stacked cages, most of them containing at least one cat. A pair of cats - one black and one golden blonde - lay sleeping together in a larger vertical enclosure. Katsuki read the identification card taped to the front while the guy came to stand next to him.
"Ah, Lunar and Solar. They're a bonded pair and need to be adopted together. Do you know if you're looking for one or more cats?"
The two cats paid them little mind and continued dozing in a little enclosed wooden bed. "Bonded? What does that mean?"
"Bonded animals - it's not exclusive to cats - are those who rely on and feel safe with each other. Usually littermates or cats who grew up together. If they're separated, their health can deteriorate, sometimes permanently, so we highly encourage people to adopt both and keep them together."
So, even animals understood the pain of loss and distance. Looking at the two cats as the black one shifted to nearly smother the other one, both still deeply asleep, Katsuki padded past the first row of cages and looked at a white and black spotted cat meowing loudly with a paw through a hole in the plexiglass. "Tell me about this one."
An hour passed as Katsuki and the man named Miura toured around the facility, one asking short questions while the other answered. He learned that some cats would never be adopted out due to their temperaments or health issues. One had been living there for more than five years because she hated being held or touched by people while another suffered from a skin condition that required special care and attention that the average person didn’t want to put up with.
Once his fanboyish fawning over the Pro Hero subsided, Miura proved to be a wealth of information to Katsuki. He explained the basics of what most cats need, how to choose good food and litter, keeping them engaged with exercise, how much they sleep, etc. Katsuki figured he could verify this information with Shinsou later, but there was no reason for the guy to fudge the truth since he wouldn’t work here if he didn’t want the animals to be healthy and happy.
“So, what are you thinking? I think I’ve shown you most of the cats available for adoption,” he said as they began to come back around towards the front entrance of the building.
There was one more thing Katsuki wanted to know as he passed cages and enclosures. “What’s the reason someone might bring a cat back here?”
Miura’s eyes drooped as he looked back towards Solar and Lunar who were finally rousing from their catnap. “Well, lots of reasons. It’s why we have people fill out applications to let us know their schedule, if they’ve had pets before, how they might react to scratched-up furniture or if they might consider declawing a cat.” He’d explained earlier what declawing meant when they passed a few cages with notes alongside their basic information mentioning possible aggression issues. Katsuki assumed it meant trimming their nails and not removing their fucking fingers up to the first knuckle. Seemed grossly barbaric to him; yeah, he’d be pissed if his nice couch got scratched up, but it wouldn’t make him consider surgically removing bones.
“Sometimes, a cat might not get along well with the lifestyle and you just don’t know until you bring them home. Other times, what people want and what they adopt are two different things. Not all cats like to cuddle or be pet all the time; it’s on their terms, not ours. When expectations don’t meet reality, they might be brought back. And… well, some cats have been through a lot and not everyone is up for helping them through it.”
That last point made Katsuki recall his talk with Shinsou as an incredibly stupid idea popped into his head. Stubbornness winning out over logic, he asked, “Show me the most difficult pain in the ass cat you have.”
Miura stared at him with blatant confusion. “Um… the most…? Wh- uh, are you-”
“Did I stutter?”
Shutting his mouth with a snap of his teeth, Miura visibly gulped before eventually leading him down a hall and through a door to a room he hadn't explored yet. It didn't appear any different from the other rooms with stacked cages, but there were only a few cats in here that he could see. "Uh, we keep cats in here that don't do well with other cats or have behavior issues… if you're serious about wanting one that is, well, difficult, then Snowball here might be who you're looking for."
At the very end of the room sat a cage half in shadow and furthest away from the other cats. Passing Miura, Katsuki stepped up and peered in through the grated bars to see a pair of yellow-orange eyes glaring back at him through a cloud of fluffy white backed into the corner of the metal cage. She looked as pretty as she did angry.
Name: Snowball
Gender: Female
Age: 3
Spayed: Yes
Notes: No health issues. Up to date on shots. Severe aggression. Possessive of food. NO fingers through cage!
Katsuki read the I.D. label before staring back at the fire-colored eyes in the shadow. She growled - a warning no doubt - and hissed, ears back and flat against her head before he turned back to Miura. “What’s her deal? Why do you think she’s so difficult? And why the hell did you name her Snowball of all things? Besides the obvious reason, anyway.”
Intentionally keeping his distance from the cage, Miura sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Well, we assume that she wasn’t always like this. From what we know, she was adopted as a kitten by a family and lived with them for at least the first year of her life. Unfortunately, they moved and left her behind… so, she essentially became a stray when she’d never been outside before. That kind of abandonment and sudden change would affect most pets. She went from having shelter, food, and care to fending for herself with other stray cats.”
Hearing just that small snippet made Katsuki’s nose wrinkle. What kind of assholes adopt a pet and then dump it like garbage without a care? “Tch, doesn’t sound like they cared much to me.”
He opened his mouth as if to agree, but maybe decided against it to continue professional appearances. “I, uh, can’t comment about what we don’t know for sure… but about eight months ago, someone called us about a colony of strays. We were able to capture most of them, Snowball included. She was in bad shape with fleas and had obviously been fighting with other cats, but it was a task to bring her here because she’s very smart and learned to avoid the cages. Fast forward a bit and we found out she was microchipped and contacted her previous owners, but they didn’t want her back claiming their kids got tired of her. It’s cruel, but still happens too often.”
Stupid parents playing stupid games with living things affected by their selfishness; he didn’t want to blame the kids, but if they wanted a damn pet that they’d eventually grow bored of then they should’ve gotten something that wouldn’t suffer like a fucking toy. “I’m guessing there’s more to it?”
“A bit, yes,” Miura said while glancing at the other cats in the stacked cages. “We’ve tried to adopt her out several times, but she was brought back within a couple of weeks because of aggression. People see her pretty fluffy white coat and striking eyes and imagine a majestic cat only to realize she’s more trouble than they want to deal with and comes with baggage. Someone even called her ‘villainous’ which might be over the top, but… we’ve kind of given up hope that she’d be adoptable. She’d either stay here forever, or will have to be put down if she ends up hurting someone badly.”
Immediately, Katsuki was transported back to the Sports Festival during his first year at U.A. where his over the top aggression was also labeled “villainous”; it was probably why the League of Villains wanted to kidnap him to try and bring over to their side in the first place. Aizawa publicly defended him and his stupid friends risked their lives and future careers to get him back.
Sometimes all you needed was someone to advocate for you.
“I’ll take her.”
Miura nearly balked at Katsuki's word, eyes flickering between him and the caged Snowball. "You… want to adopt her? After everything I just told you? Are you sure?"
With a sneer to nearly match Snowball's, he spat while glaring daggers at Miura, "I don't lie. I meant what I said. Sounds like if I don't adopt her, then no one will. So you can either keep her in this miserable cage forever, or give her to me. Your choice."
The logical part of his brain said this was an incredibly stupid decision considering he’d never owned a pet before, nor did he know where to even start when it came to taking care of difficult cats. Fuck, he’d owe Shinsou something good in return for needing his help with this mess.
Just to drive the point home, Katsuki turned and said, “I swear to you as a Pro Hero that I won’t give her back to the shelter, even if she’s a total bitch of a cat who never likes me much.”
Well, apparently Miura couldn’t really argue with that or dare go against him swearing his whole career on it. He sighed and nodded. “No choice but to accept that kind of deal from Dynamight. Even if she’s difficult, she really is a pretty cat. Photogenic, too. But anyway, follow me back up front and we can fill out the paperwork.”
Katsuki sat down with the clipboard while the older lady from earlier was showing some cats to a couple down the hallway. As he wrote, he wondered again if this was the right thing to do before deciding that the “fuck it” philosophy was better for his own happiness than living with regret. If saving equated to winning, then adopting this asshole cat deserved a damn trophy.
When the paperwork was out of the way, he asked Miura what else he needed to do. “Well, you’ll need to bring a carrier so you can take her with you. We’ll provide a few freebies like food, some toys, stuff like that, but the rest is up to you,” he answered after taking back the clipboard. “You can pay the adoption fee now or wait until you come back to get her; I uh, don’t think anyone else will be running to beat you to the punch.”
It all sounded simple enough. He’d get Shinsou to give him a list of basic shit he’d need to buy… the main problem would be getting Snowball - he was definitely changing her name - back to his apartment. He’d seen the occasional small dog on trains before, but never paid attention to the rules since they never applied to him. Time to say “fuck it” and figure it out later.
“Oh, and Dynamight? As a favor, could I get your autograph for my daughter…?” Katsuki’s eye twitched, but figured he could indulge the guy and his kid considering Miura put up with an hour of questions.
He hurried back through the snow towards the train station, but was interrupted when he heard someone yell a few blocks away. “Perfect opportunity to warm up,” he growled with a wide grin before ripping off his gloves with his teeth and blasting his way towards the noise.
Less than five minutes later, the burglars were incapacitated, demoralized, and lightly charred. He was right about getting warmed up at least; he used to have trouble utilizing his quirk during the winter months, but years of training paid off and the cold barely slowed him down at all now.
While he waited for the cops to show up and haul the singed villains away, Katsuki pulled out his phone to shoot off a quick text. He hadn't expected to make a decision, nonetheless pick out a damn cat and sign the paperwork that day, but whatever. In all honesty, he actually felt excited to introduce a new element into his life.
His eye twitched, but he didn't expect anything else from Shinsou. At least he was certain that whatever he bought would be worth it since the insomniac obviously cared about the wellbeing and health of not just his own cats, but those that belonged to others as well.
Hearing sirens, he glanced up to see a few cop cars skidding to a halt in front of the group of dazed villains. “Time to actually get to work,” he said to himself as he waved to the officers thanking him before retracing his steps back to the train station.
Once on patrol for real this time, Katsuki and Mar rounded the corner of a tall office building - the top of it obscured by snowy low-hanging clouds - as he considered how and when to pick up his new four-legged roommate.
"Hey, kid," he said as his gauntlets swung at his sides. "What would you say to running an errand for me next week?" Ordering whatever Shinsou told him to buy online was probably the easiest solution compared to running around to different stores to find it all.
"What kind of errand? It must be something embarrassing since you normally like doing everything yourself," they said with an air of skepticism. "I don't have to like, pick up smelly foot cream or something-"
"Wh- NO IT'S NOT FOOT CREAM YOU BRAT!" Several people walking nearby stopped to stare at Dynamight yelling about foot cream in the middle of the snowy sidewalk, but he never cared about making a scene. Mar was apparently comfortable enough to jog away while covering their mouth to keep from laughing. "Nevermind, I'll do it myself! Smart mouthed little shit…"
After that, Mar tried and failed to get him to crack about the "errand", but it was too damn late; they had their chance and blew it. It was probably for the best since Mar would no doubt tell Kirishima, who would blab to everyone else, that he was adopting a fluffy white cat with an attitude problem.
Katsuki checked his phone when their patrol was finished to find that Shinsou had sent him a list just like he said he would. The guy even gave links to specific things; how nice. He wondered what kind of favor Shinsou was inevitably going to ask for in return.
"C'mon, just tell me, Bakugo-senpai!" Mar hadn't let up with the nagging even after returning to the office at the end of the day.
"No, now stop asking," he ordered while tightening the scarf around his neck. "You were right: I should just do it myself."
Mar proved they were definitely still a teenager by sighing loudly and laying their head on their desk. "I hate being out of the loop. Whatever it is, I could totally do-" Hearing the elevator ding, Mar turned their head to see Bakugo stepping past the threshold before turning around, smirking, and flicking them off before the doors shut in front of him. "He's totally keeping a secret… and I'm gonna find out what." They had a reputation of knowing all of the juicy information that came in and out of the office, after all.
Katsuki stared at his laptop screen and frowned at the total all of the cat supplies added up to in his digital cart. While it wasn't an exorbitant amount of money - he'd spent more on fancy knives and whetstones - he was still a miserly bastard. Cat food, litter, toys, scratching posts, brushes… it all added up. Like any other big life change, the upfront cost always hits the wallet hardest.
“At least Snowball will- fuck, I gotta change that name.” Contrary to what everyone else believed, he was the obvious king of coming up with the best nicknames, Hero names, insulting jabs, all of it. It would be difficult to come up with a name befitting his new pet without knowing much about her personality other than being too much of a pain for anyone else to handle, but a couple immediately came to mind. "If you're my cat, then you're gonna have a badass name."
Over the next week, packages gradually began trickling in and appearing in front of his apartment door by the time he returned home from patrol. For whatever reason, the online store shipped things out in waves rather than all at once, but maybe he’d feel less overwhelmed this way considering he had to rearrange some things to make it all work. For example, the scratching post Shinsou sent him was ugly as sin, so he bought a different one that fit his minimalist aesthetic better; well, as decently as a 125cm tall sisal-wrapped post could blend in, anyway.
He converted his unused spare bedroom/office into what he figured any smart cat would like. Cat tree in front of the window, a litter box in the corner and far away from where he could easily smell it, a bin of toys similar to those he saw in the cat café, and a soft bed. He even kept some of the empty shipping boxes since he read that cats might ignore all this fancy shit and sleep in a box. It looked like a decent setup for a cat entering a completely new environment. As he looked around, he clicked his tongue and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m really doing this, huh?”
What would you think of all this? Not that it mattered much since you’d never know any of this or meet his new fluffy roommate… but some tiny part of him still gave a damn about the opinion of someone who was - and still is - important to him. You’d probably call him an impulsive idiot before giving in with a soft smile. As he walked back down the hallway, that mental image had him smiling, too.
If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve assumed these people were dealing with a deadly lion and not a housecat. “Aaaaaalright, now… just… hold still…”
Compared to figuring out how interior decorating worked with cat furniture, this seemed like the hardest part of this unfamiliar journey so far. Snowball was, true to what he’d been told, absolutely livid at the people trying to coax her out of her cage and into the dark gray carrier. She hissed and lashed out with her claws towards anyone who got a bit too close for comfort. “C’mon, I have shit to do and I know you don’t want to spend hours fighting a damn cat.”
“N-no, we don’t,” one of them said while looking down at the red, irritated scratches on their hand. “We normally have someone here with a quirk that helps calm down animals, but she got sick this week, so we’re kind of on our own… and Snowball does not want to cooperate.”
As much as Katsuki wanted to just grab her up and stuff her in the carrier, it probably wouldn't make a great second impression if he was going to try and placate her anger and distrust of people. It took three people fifteen minutes to finally get her into the carrier, all the while Katsuki wondered if he’d severely fucked up with adopting this particular cat on a whim motivated by instinct and the desire to prove that she wasn’t a lost cause.
When the drama was over, Miura finalized all of the paperwork and handed over her health records and a bag with some treats, a toy, and litter scoop for good measure. "Well, she's all yours. I can't really say I'm sad to see her go, but I am happy that you decided to give her a chance. Like I mentioned before, if she winds up back-"
"She won't." Katsuki cut the guy off with his gruff voice and a rigid look. "I don't go back on my word. I'm her problem now, not the other way around."
That got a laugh out of Miura before he wished Katsuki luck as he walked outside holding a crate full of pissed-off cat. While he could've taken the train, he figured that giving Snowball as few chances as possible to escape was probably the safest bet. Plus, all of the people crowded into it would annoy both of them. Taxi it was.
When one pulled up next to the curb and the back door opened, he maneuvered the crate into the far seat before climbing in after it. She hissed at being jostled around. "Oh, shut it," he mumbled before directing the driver back to his apartment building.
She was surprisingly quiet during the ride, choosing to scrunch as far back into the carrier as she could while glaring at Katsuki the entire time.
The plan was to keep her in the room with all of the shit he bought for the first few days before gradually opening up the rest of the apartment. Hell, it almost reminded him of winding up in your own home against his will, taken from familiarity and shoved into the alarmingly foreign. However, Snowball was getting a major home upgrade compared to a metal cage or roaming outside with ferals and strays while he had to sleep on a couch and wear the same pair of jeans for a month.
When the taxi pulled up to his building, Katsuki maneuvered himself and the carrier out of the car and hurried inside to get out of the cold weather.
"Welcome back Dynamight… oh? What's that?" Takahata greeted him from behind his desk like he always did before spying the carrier he was holding.
"My good samaritan duty for the next decade," he answered flatly while shaking snow flurries out of his hair and hurrying towards the elevator. "Also? You never saw me."
Taking the hint, Takahata nodded before returning to his warm tea and newspaper. Didn't picture him as a pet owner, but maybe it'll be good for him.
Snowball's restlessness at being in a cramped cage swelled while in the elevator as her shifting weight rocked it side to side. "Yeah, yeah. I wouldn't like being in a cage either, but deal with it for five more minutes."
After unlocking his door and disposing of his wet boots, he made his way down the hall and turned on the light in the unofficial Snowball room. With the carrier now sitting in the middle of the room, Katsuki left to grab his laptop and a protein bar before returning to the room and closing the door behind him.
His patrol wasn't for a few hours, so supervising this fluffy asshole to make sure she didn't wreck anything was probably a good idea. He'd been kidnapped, stabbed, sliced, bruised, broken, and everything in between. Figuring out cats sounded like a walk in the park by comparison.
"Alright," he said while kneeling down in front of the carrier just to hear her growl at him again. "Even though you're a cat, we actually have some shit in common. I know the people at the shelter said you're an asshole, but I'm an asshole, too. I'm… why the fuck am I talking to a cat." Running a hand down his face in embarrassment he was glad no one else witnessed, Katsuki unlocked the front door of the cage, sat against the wall with his computer, and waited.
It took about ten minutes before she set a single, tentative paw outside of the carrier. Her bright orange eyes remained trained on him like a hawk as she inched her way across the floor with her fluffy tail flicking in agitation and ears nearly flat against her head. From what he'd read, all that pointed to cautious and inflamed behavior.
He ignored her in favor of brainstorming for a name to replace Snowball, which was the exact wrong thing to do because she was, at that very moment, plotting his untimely demise.
A scratching noise made him look up only to see that she'd climbed to the top of the tall scratching post like a lion surveying its territory. She looked equal parts regal and like she was going to leap across the room to scratch his eyes out.
And then it hit him: the perfect name. A call back to his early beginnings as a reckless and violent teenager. If anyone thought it was dumb, they were so incredibly wrong.
"How's Princess Explosion Murder for a new name?"
All she did was glare, which was a good enough answer for him.
—----------------------
“How’s your brother?”
“Which one?”
With their busy and unpredictable schedules, it had been difficult to find time to meet up, but Katsuki and Todoroki managed to find about an hour of uninterrupted overlap in the back corner of a tiny noodle shop where they could meet and commiserate with familial frustration.
Katsuki glared while slurping his piping hot noodles. “The one that’s mentally stable - you know which one I mean,” he answered with mocking sarcasm.
Even in this frigid weather, Todoroki preferred his cold soba much to Katsuki’s distaste. “Ah. Touya’s doing as well as could be expected. He’s been locked up for almost eight years which isn’t ideal, but it’s better than the alternative.” It went without saying that the other option meant Touya’s miserable death for his villainous crimes. “He’s getting better every year, though. With what he went through, it’s just going to take time.”
Silence hung between them for a full minute before Todoroki changed the subject. “Are those scratches on your hand?"
His lips thinning, Katsuki brushed the other man off. "Tch, we get scuffed up all the time. It's nothin'."
Todoroki hummed before he continued his line of invasive questioning. "Do your parents know about what happened when you disappeared last year? Did you ever tell them the truth?”
That got Katsuki to snort, his nose wrinkling at such a laughable idea. “Not a chance. I could tell my old man, but he’d blab to the hag who would hound me for details that aren’t any of her damn business. Just last year, she bugged me about grandkids of all things; the last thing she needs to know about is how the only person I’ve had real feelings for is a fucking universe away. I can hear her now: Just my luck that my brat of a son is too difficult for anyone here to handle,” he imitated poorly with a sneer that probably made him look even more like his mother than he already did. Talking and joking about it made it all just a little easier to cope with.
When Todoroki said nothing, Katsuki analyzed the Hero sitting opposite him with his head tilted down over his bowl of cold soba. In all honesty, he’d been waiting for an opportunity to get either Todoroki or one of the other guys who knew the truth. Katsuki was as sure about some kind of secret being kept from him as he was confident in using his quirk; they knew something he didn’t, and if it involved him - which it probably did - then he was going to get to the bottom of it.
“You’re hiding something.” Blunt as always, Katsuki cut right to the chase to avoid wasting time neither of them had. Todoroki raised his eyes from his soba to stare unflinchingly across the table. Out of all his other friends, Todoroki always kept a level head on his shoulders even in uncomfortable situations.
“What do you mean?”
Leaning over the table, Katsuki nudged his half-empty bowl to the side. “I’m not dense and you know it. Even after I told you and the others what happened, you all still tip-toe around me as if you’re afraid to say something. So, what the hell is it?”
If he was surprised at Katsuki’s deductive reasoning and observation skills, he didn’t show it. But then again, Katsuki had always been confident in his ability to solve most problems and puzzles that stared him in the face. Brains, brawn, and a dazzling personality… well, two out of three wasn't bad.
Todoroki took another patient bite of noodles before answering in a cool, calm voice, "What if we are? If it was to your detriment, then we'd be bad friends. But if it's nothing harmful, then there's no reason for you to know right now."
"So you fucking admit to keeping secrets that specifically involved me." Todoroki was often just as forthright as Katsuki, but without the extra volume and disrespect. "Don't you think that I'm the best judge of what is or isn't important to me? And if it's so harmless, then why not get it over with and spit it out?"
Red eyes glared into cyan and gray, neither giving an inch, both determined to hold their ground. Katsuki felt entitled to anything they were planning or knew considering he eventually came clean about everything weighing him down nearly to the point of no return; couldn't the people he called "friends" give him the same courtesy?
Eventually, Todoroki slowly closed his eyes and lowered his chopsticks, shoulders sagging knowing that even if he kept his mouth shut today, Katsuki wouldn't let up until he gave a satisfactory answer. "Fine. I'll tell you. But know, this was supposed to be a surprise for you to cheer you up."
"You know I hate surprises," he retorted with a scoff and satisfactory smirk knowing his troublesome stubbornness won out before things got nasty.
"Midoriya, Kirishima and I talked after everything you told us that day. We wanted to do something to help you feel better, even though you seem to be doing alright for yourself now that it's been a while."
It better not involve another broken door, he considered silently before returning to his soba before it turned cold. It also made for the perfect distraction as his palms began to sweat with disquiet and impatience.
"You won't see the results of what we've planned for a while… but we hope it's worth it in the end." He lifted a hand to a passing waitress to get a refill on his water, Katsuki tapping his foot on the floor underneath their table. "We are planning a birthday party for you."
At first, Katsuki thought he heard wrong, eyes narrowing as he let out a, "Hah?!" You've gotta be kidding me. "Did you say birthday party? How fucking old are we? Why do you think I'd want a damn party?"
The waitress tried to ignore his raised voice while she refilled their glasses. "Thank you. And yes, I know it might seem out of place, but it seemed like a good idea. We've been contacting a few of our friends and old classmates as well, like Tokoyami, Cami, and Sato, who agreed to make a cake. You went through an order, and we thought it would be nice to do something for you. Of course, it was going to be a surprise, but I guess the cat's out of the pan now."
"It's out of the bag, dummy," Katsuki corrected as he tried to process the absolutely ridiculous story Todoroki just told him. He didn't even like parties! And it was his birthday, anyway, so he should be able to do whatever the hell he wanted… which meant barely acknowledging it at all like he did every year.
… But it was all for him though, right? These idiots wanted to give him something to celebrate instead of working through another birthday with little regard for celebrating. As much as he loved having all eyes on him and snatching attention away from others, sincere acts and words of validation just made him deflect like light shone on a mirror so he could remain in the shadow.
Scoffing, Katsuki's bottom lip poked out as he considered what to do. If he said he didn't want a damn party, then whatever work they had put into making an event he probably wouldn't hate would be wasted. On the other hand, if he let them continue with their plan, he had the sneaking suspicion that he would gain more than just cake and some cheesy cards.
Leaning back in his chair, Katsuki tilted his head as if trying to channel his teenage delinquent persona. "... You said Sato's gonna make a cake?" His lack of a sweet tooth was challenged by his old classmate's baking prowess and his homemade desserts were sorely missed by everyone when he moved up near Maebashi.
That got Todoroki to crack a small grin which Katsuki tried to ignore. "Yes. Though it's still several months out, with our unpredictable schedules and now with Uraraka and Midoriya expecting their first child, it will give us time to plan. We've all known each other for almost a decade, so at least have confidence that we will make it more than bearable."
"If you go through all this damn trouble and it ends up being lame, then you can only blame yourself." Getting a straight agreement out of Katsuki was never easy, but he didn't outright tell them to put a stop to this whole charade, either. After ruining that night out with Kaminari and the others, maybe one day dedicated to celebrating how far he'd come wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. It was just a stupid party after all, even if he did still feel like there was something he wasn’t being told. Only a matter of time until he found out.
"Just don't admit that I told you. Kirishima and Midoriya want to keep this a secret," he said as he brushed his bi-colored ponytail off his shoulder.
Rolling his eyes, Katsuki drained the last of his water. "I'm not a blabbermouth like you three. With this much lead-up time, I'm expecting the fucking best; it's what I deserve."
Every word that Todoroki spoke was honest and true. All he did was leave out one very large detail: you.
____________
Welp, hope you enjoyed this extra fluffy chapter. I cut out some parts that I wanted to write, but i'm just tired of looking at this chapter and want to fucking post it already lkjadlfjsa
like i said, i'm gonna TRY to get ch 45 out on 4/20. it shouldn't be a long one, but it's an important one… one yall have no doubt been waiting for 🤩 if it's late, i appreciate your patience and understanding <3333
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#bnha x reader#mha x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki x reaader#boku no hero x reader#my hero academia x reader#future fic#bnha fanfiction#mha imagines#bakugo katsuki#krbk#mha oc#bnha imagines
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#194
“You fucking whore, you can come out out of the bushes now! I watched you from the cab. I saw you naked at that picnic table down below taking what? eight? nine? drivers, one right after the next over the period of one hour. You fucking whore....
“Where the fuck are your clothes? You are not getting back into our cab until you tell me what the fuck were you doing? I know we are paired up for a few months and this is barely day one, but we need to establish some rules. I don’t care if you suck dick or take it up the ass, but it doesn’t interfere with our driving.
“You don’t have to worry about me. I use queers all the time on the road. Hell after my rest, I was going to play down below myself. Yeah, I know the spots across the country to have fun. This isn’t the easiest vista view to maneuver, so all the drivers up here are most likely here to play, especially at night. This place can get wild. But now I have a cunt at my disposal, which should make the drive a lot easier. Yes, I said disposal. Fuck up and you’ll be kicked to the curb naked as you are now. One call to the company and you will be gone in no time.
“Now where are your clothes? Don’t bother to come up with an excuse. One of the drivers took your shit and tried to rob our cab. The fucker woke me up. He bolted before I could beat the shit it out of him. You are lucky. He left your shit right there. Don’t worry I locked up your clothes. Listen here fucker this is my home. You cannot ever lose your keys. Fuck! That was a major fuck up. That cannot be swept under the rug.
“Get over here and put your hands on the bumper. Make sure your ass is up high. Don’t worry about the other drivers. They pretty much saw my reaction to being broken in. They know you fucked up. They know why you will be getting a good ass lickin’. And that’s not the fun kind of ass lickin’ either. You need to know that you follow my rules at all times. Ten licks should do. Those drivers are all watching.
“Damn your scream echoed all over. Let’s do that again. Fuck, the sounds of the belt landing on those well used cheeks and your yelps are turning me on. Wait, what the fuck? You got cum all over my belt. Jesus! Your cunt is leaking spooge. Pull apart your ass cheeks let me see your pussy. Fuck! That is one well used hole. Those lips are so puffy. You can’t even keep those drivers’ loads in you. Back in it goes. Damn, my two fingers just slipped in without any resistance. Three fingers. Damn, you are four finger tight.
“You need to work on this muscle. But you know what? All this driver dick drool filling up your puss is making is all slippery. I’m going in. Hold the fuck still. I said hold still. You only have a half an inch on my thumb knuckle. It’s ok to scream; I mean fuck! I’m shoving my fist into you. Those other drivers would love to hear what a cunt you are. Almost there.
“There’s so much cum in here. How many men dumped in you?… I bet this isn’t the first time you have had a man shove his fist in you. Fucking whore. There! I’m in. Goddamnit this feels good.
“One of the drivers that fucked you earlier is walking over here. Looks like you are going to be spit roasted again. You fucking fucking fucking whore. I don’t know if it’s wrong to keep doing this, but I will tell you that it feels all right….
“Hey, whip it out. He’ll suck you off like a good whore…. No, I just found out here that my co-driver is a cock hungry, fist eating, cum whore. Fuck, I have to stop. I’m ready to burst now. I need to save myself for when the sun starts to set, and the fun begins. You wanna take over here?… He’s got like a gallon of cum up in there….
“Hey whore, I do need to get some rest. I’ll be back out later. Don’t worry, I got your clothes and shit in the cab. Have fun. That’s an order. I want you cunt filled with cum. Don’t bother knocking on the door to get in. Not unless you want more welts. Get used to being treated like this. This is your life for the next few months. Fucking whore. See you in a few hours.”
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ink drinker / modern vikings au, Ivar x F!Reader
author’s note: long story short, I wrote this series but used an OFC that I use for most of my longer series. many thanks to @victoria-styles for her suggestion of making it a reader / Y/N story. major plot tweaks as well.
synopsis: Ivar was only meant to be a friend with benefits, but he caught feelings for his older brother’s best friend: you.
pairing: Ivar x Reader
✎
“Not into the million dollar bullshit?” You heard a voice beckon from behind you, stepping forwards with a light to start the cigarette that hung between your Oxford red stained lips.
“Crawling through the depths of hell sounds more pleasant than being here,” You grumbled back through the cloud of grey smoke slipping past your lips. You watched the figure next to you light up his own cigarette, taking note at how his fingers curled around the stick as he laughed with your words. “I’m only here to calm Hvitserk,”
“And he’s not even here,” He said back with a laugh, blue eyes peeking to grab at yours.
“Structure fire across town,” You tell him. “Told him that if he’s so inclined he can bring the truck over here and spray the party with the water,” Ivar laughed at that.
“Fuck, you clean up nice. And I love a woman in uniform,” He teases, smirking as you do too. It went silent for a second between you two, sticks of chemicals on your lips as his eyes did not miss the way your dress hugged at your body, how your stilettos were secured around your ankles. He couldn’t pull his mind back quickly enough before he was imagining them over his shoulders, your lips that curled around the filter and how they might look around his cock. How you were the first person who gave him complete reign over the ink he was going to forever mark your body with.
“Let’s just say I’d rather slice my own tongue off and choke on it than admit to that, actually wearing something other than the blues, and enjoying it,” You groan as the man next to you laughs, a sick snicker coming from his lips and you find yourself smiling too. “But you don’t clean up half bad yourself, Ivar,” You tease back as your eyes catch sight of the roll of his sleeves, how he maneuvers the buttons and pulls the white fabric back to show the first indications of sleeved out arms.
“Where do you want to go?” Ivar asks, taking the cigarette from his mouth to stub.
“Excuse me?”
“I didn’t think I fucking stuttered,” He started in challenge. “You said you didn’t want to be here, so where would you like to go?” He asks a quick swipe of his tongue over his lips as he cocks his head to the side awaiting your answer.
“Alright, Ragnarsson, you’re fucking on,” You laugh back, crushing your own stick with the spike of your heel as you follow him.
*
Hvitserk was a man who took most things with a grain of salt, others came with a few shots of whiskey. He had seen the darker side of humanity, and you were right there with him when he did. Your interest in becoming certified for emergency medicine had followed you since your high school graduation, and you were right on the top of the sign up sheet when class enrolled. And you stayed on top when your graduated. Company firings and how it lead to short staffing, moving of some onto better things lead to an opening you leapt on and found yourself paired with a paramedic with blonde hair and a smile that could cause most of the human population to smile back. It did not take long for a friendship to strike up, even outside of the station and the blazing sirens. His humor, his companionship kept you sane, kept the darkness of the horrid calls at bay, you two grew close, quickly.
Even if company policy allowed the romantic attachments between co-workers, you still couldn’t find yourself catching some sort of feeling to Hvitserk. He was a friend, your best, and it was left at that. You trusted him with your life, you’d gladly lay on the stretcher and head into the emergency room as long as he was the paramedic who was treating you.
Sigurd came next in the line of his brothers, an obsession with music, and nothing but the best that world could offer. He had an artistic hand, Hvitserk drove you towards his place of employment for permanent artwork to your liking and that was how you met Ivar. He watched you tip toe through his portfolio, but if Sigurd had talent, then Ivar was a God. You had never seen such movement on skin where he would trace his ink. You didn’t want to pull a design off of the internet and ask Ivar to put in on you, it seemed almost rude, instead you told him where you wanted it, and told him to go crazy. He looked at you in such a way, thinking you were joking. Perhaps too un-educated in the world of tattoos, but you held your ground and he was proud of such a feat.
Work was all too consuming, trying to leave space for time other than the blood pressure cuffs and patient history. You’d spend time out on town with Hvitserk, his brothers soon in tow, a party of their own that they could become. You were shocked Hvitserk hadn’t caught on, that none of them had, how long you had been spreading your legs for Ivar in secret. Petty bantering between the two of you, the others making bets to see whom would kill whom first, but that chatter went towards the foreplay that would follow you two into the bedroom. The most shock you came to realize was how Ivar was always there in the morning—it took a lot of you to convince him to leave, but he always mumbled something about five more minutes just for holding you.
Perhaps it was how your days were spent doused in testosterone, one of the three women of the entire station, entire company, leaving you to be able to handle yourself around men with egos far bigger than the dicks they would carry. That was how you were so seamlessly integrated into the Ragnarsson brother’s, struck up like the sister they never got. That was how Ivar found himself thinking about you far more than a friend with or without benefits would, how tightly you snug around his cock, how you look and sounded when you came for him, how you had pulled more from him than any other woman he had slept with. How you made him feel appreciated and not like a man who needed to navigate himself with his dick to get what women he wanted. How you didn’t toss him to the side after the first fuck. You drove him crazy and he didn’t have the words to admit to it.
“If I hear a grumble from you one more time Ivar, I am going to kick you out of the shop,” Sigurd spoke from his spot at the front desk, thumbing through a magazine of industry products as Ivar hissed a curse at him in reply. “What the fuck is you problem?”
“Y/N,” Ivar answered all too quickly.
“What? She hurt your ego too bad last time we were out? Didn’t stroke it enough to your liking?” Sigurd teased.
“No,” Ivar said. “She didn’t stroke me enough to my liking,” But Ivar said the words far too quickly before he could catch them.
“Are you fucking her?” Sigurd said, sitting up in his chair. “You two are fucking?” He laughed.
“Shut up,” Ivar grumbled, a toss of his pencil flying to grace the space Sigurd was at.
“She cut your dick off? That the issue?” He teased. “Hvitserk’s going to go ape-shit, dude,”
“That’s why we’re not telling him yet, right Sigurd?” Ivar said “Right, Sigurd?” He repeated with an extended finger at his brother.
“How long have you two been fucking—I need to know that, for science, and because I am still in shock. How did you—her? She’s too good for you Ivar, you have to be careful there,”
“Two years,” Ivar remarked and Sigurd nearly fell out of his chair.
“Fuck! You ask her out yet?”
“We’re not talking about this—or telling anyone else, right?” Ivar said again.
“Yes, sir,” Sigurd nodded, a fake salute from his hand as his mind was still scrambled.
“Don’t call me sir,” Ivar snapped.
“Yes ma’am,”
*
You’d never forget the call that came through dispatch a month after you and Ivar had started to screw around more often than fuck buddies would. The address sounded familiar, but Hvitserk was the one who made the connection it was the shop. Ink Drinker was a parlor bathed in black; walls and dark floors that made the rooms look like they never ended. The art displayed belonged to that of Ivar, of Sigurd, of the few others who came and went for their tattoo work. The owner had wooden sculptures of his own to line the spaces, but you had only ever seen the man through his social media.
You feared suddenly something happening to Ivar, or Sigurd, readying yourself for the sight that may hold them there, but it wasn’t them. A patron had passed out to the sight of the needles, sending Ivar to sour his entire mood at the weakness for something he found so simple. His flash of anger changed suddenly when you and his brother showed up, jumping from the rig in full expectance to see either sibling in a bloody mess after fighting to their death.
“I called and specifically asked for Hvitserk Ragnarsson and his partner,” Sigurd teased as the teenager came too, apologizing and still paying Ivar for the appointment he was too scared to cancel.
“I was hoping it would be a trauma call, you finally snapping and kicking Ivar’s ass,” You answered back, smirking at Ivar as he rolled his eyes in distaste. Ivar’s eyes climbed your whole body as you worked, the uniform marking your hierarchy and importance as you took the patient to the hospital. His text message not ten minutes later almost made you head back just to smack him.
“You’re keeping the uniform on next time we fuck.”
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Like Father Like Daughter
You meet Colson while visiting your dad, Tommy Lee, on the set of The Dirt and the rest is history.
Request: “Have colson(mgk) meeting tommy Lee’s daughter(reader) on set of the dirt and they fall in love and she meets casie scared that casie won’t like her but casie loves her”
Colson X Reader
Warnings: Cursing
A/N: I wrote this 3 different times because I didn’t like the first two…
Word Count: 2558
Day One
Stepping out into the New Orleans air for the first time was shocking; the smell of cigarettes, liquor, and swamp mixing around in your nose. But there was something in the air; something electric, exciting; something new. You headed towards the studio where your dad told you he was working for the day. A young woman with an earpiece and a clip board found you at the entrance, a kind smile on her face. “You’re Y/N, right? Tommy’s daughter.”
You nodded, letting her lead you through the maze of sets until you walked into a large room with lights and cameras surrounding an area of floor that was set up to look like the set of one of Motley Crue’s old music videos. Your father was on the set, talking to two men who looked around your age and Jeff Tremaine, the film’s director. You hesitantly walked further into the space, but not past the cameras, to alert him of your presence. This process was made much easier by your Uncle Nikki spotting you from across the room and shouting “Little Lee!”
Your dad, along with the men he was talking to and a few other people in the room, turned to look at you. You smiled shyly, sending a small wave to your dad’s best friend. Your dad beckoned for you to join his conversation, wrapping an arm around your side once you landed next to him. “Hey kiddo, how was your flight?”
You leaned into his shoulder, “it was fine. Longer than I’d expected but, at least I’m here.” You took in the unfamiliar faces of the men surrounding you, eyes lingering on the man with bright blue eyes and a drumstick twirling around in his hands.
“Oh, shit, right. This is my oldest, Y/N.” Your dad introduced you to the guys. “Y/N you know Jeff, this is Douglas,” he motioned towards the guy with long black hair and two painted stripes under his eyes, “he’s playing Nikki in the movie.” You nodded, sending the man a smile which he returned brightly. “And this is Colson, he’s me.” He pointed to the man your eye had caught on, who sent you a wide grin.
“Nice to meet you.” You said, towards all the men, but your eyes still trapped in Colson’s blue ones.
The rest of the day was spent uneventfully. You watched the boys film scenes over the monitor with your dad, him feeding you commentary on what actually happened. Even though you’d heard most of the stories growing up, you let him retell them.
You kept finding your attention drifting towards the man with bright blue eyes, a long black wig, and a set of drumsticks always at hand. Your dad noticed, teasing you every chance he got. “He’s hot, right?”
“Dad!” You huffed.
He chuckled, “Just spitting facts. At least I’m not the one drooling over him like a teenage girl.”
You rolled your eyes, “I am 26 years old: I don’t drool over boys.”
“Oh, well, Colson’s a man.” He elbowed you jokingly.
“You’re annoying.”
“Passed it down to you, kiddo.”
Later on, he’d swear he had nothing to do with it, but you’d always suspected he told Colson about your attraction for the man, as after filming wrapped for the day, Colson asked you to dinner. It was quite honestly the best date you’d been on in a long time, and soon you were agreeing to another the next night.
With Colson everything seemed naturally easy. He was one of the sweetest, funniest guys you’d met, and you wouldn’t have to worry about your dad not liking him. The only problem was that you were only able to spend a week in New Orleans with him.
Day 6
“You live in LA, right?” He asked on the walk back to your apartment, his jacket slung around your shoulders.
You looked up at him with the same smile that had been on your face the entire night, “yeah, why?”
He let out a nervous chuckle, “well, I was hoping that when I get back to LA in a month, we could do this again?”
Your smile turned into a smirk, “are you asking me to wait for you, Colson Baker?”
“When you put it like that I sound like a fuckin dweeb.”
“I thought I was making you sound romantic.” You whined jokingly, hand reaching out to intertwine with his. “But if you were asking, I would say yes.”
“It’s a date.”
“You better call me while you’re gone though.”
He looked down at you with a confused expression, “what do you take me for, an idiot? I am going to be texting and calling you so much you’ll be begging me to stop.”
“Good.”
You swung your hands back in forth the rest of the way home, comfortable silence enveloping you. Colson walked you all the way to the door of your hotel room, leaning against the wall as you unlocked the door. You turned to him before making your way into the room, a sad smile on your face. “I’ll see you in a month?”
He leaned off the wall and moved to stand directly in front of you, hands grazing your hips lightly, hesitantly. “One very long month,” he mumbled, trying to burn your image into his memory.
“Well,” you started, “maybe you should give me something to remember you by.” Colson raised his eyebrow at you, feeling somewhat taken aback by your boldness. But then he remembered who your dad was and was much less surprised.
His grip on your hips tightened as he leaned in, lips colliding with yours. Your arms moved up his arms slowly, landing finally around his neck. The kiss was sweet and slow, something you would have never expected from looking at the man. His lips felt intoxicating, like you would die if you pulled apart. It had only been a single kiss, but you were already addicted.
You were broken out of your trance by cheering from the end of the hallway, a familiar voice calling out “that’s my girl!” Your face turned red as you pulled apart, finding your dad and his fiancé, Brittany, clapping at the end of the hallway.
“You are so fucking embarrassing.” You told him as he approached you and gave Colson a firm pat on the shoulders.
“It could be worse. If it was anyone else, I probably would’ve kicked his ass for even thinking about kissing you.” Tommy said, an innocent smile on his face. “But Colson, I will kill you if you fuck this up.”
The blond boy gave him a small salute, “yes sir.”
Day 34
Your text tone rang from your phone as you sat on your couch, watching TV.
Colson:
Be ready in 45
Even though you’d spent the last 4 weeks facetiming him, you weren’t fully convinced that Colson would keep good on his promise to see you again once he got back in town. You’d been pretty convinced he wouldn’t as the days dragged on with no mention of his return or a reunion. But here he was, telling you to be ready for something.
You texted him back
Wait… are you serious?
When he responded with a
Flight just landed, yes I’m serious.
You squealed, rushing around the house to get ready. The simple thought of seeing him in person, of hopefully tasting his intoxicating lips again, made your heart flutter. And then he was knocking on your door. When you opened it to see him standing there, a single rose in his hand and a nervous smile on his face, you wanted to jump into his arms.
He was a gentleman the entire night, opening your door for you, pulling out your chair, complimenting you. Everything just felt so perfect. And when he walked you up to your door and kissed you goodnight, you swooned.
Day 50
You were sat on his couch, your back resting against his chest as some movie played on the TV. One of his hands was wrapped around your waist, the other intertwined with your own. You’d been sitting in relative silence for a while, save for the noise from the TV.
But that was broken when Colson spoke softly, “I know this is lame but like, I gotta make sure. You’re my girlfriend, right?”
You chuckled lightly at his lame attempt to ask you to be his girlfriend. “No, I’ve just been going out on dates with you and not talking to anyone else for shits and giggles.”
He let out a breath of air from his nose humorously, “Okay cool.”
“That was a yes, by the way.” You turned your head and leaned up to press a soft, strained kiss to his lips.
“Cool.”
Day 96
You were half asleep, wrapped up in Colson’s arms on his bed. Your head rested on his chest, eyes struggling to stay open. Colson was just as tired of you were, his words slowing when he said, “I think I’m in love with you.”
You mumbled out a lazy “really?” too tired to be shocked at the gravity of what he was saying. Truthfully, you weren’t all that surprise at the admission, as you had been looking for the right way to express the same sentiment.
“Yeah. I’m pretty fuckin’ in love with you.”
“Sweet” You mumbled, pressing a small kiss to his bare chest.
His chest shook with a silent giggle, “Cool.”
“I love you too.” You said, snuggling closer into him.
“Sweet.”
”Cool.”
Day 102
You were making pancakes at your stove, Colson’s arms wrapped around you from behind. He’d been staying the night at your house for almost a week, simulating the feeling of living with you. You couldn’t admit that the thought wasn’t attractive, having him around almost all the time was amazing and something you were afraid of ending.
“Hey, could I ask you something?” He mumbled as you watched the pancakes cook. You hummed a response and he continued, “my daughter’s gonna be in town next week. I was hoping you’d meet her.”
You bit your lip, a grin growing on your face. You knew meeting Casie was a big deal to Colson, he had told you many times how important she was to him. He didn’t let her meet just anyone in his life. “Yeah, I’d love that.”
But then that thought crossed through your mind; the one that would raise your anxiety levels for the next seven days. What if Casie doesn’t like me?
If Casie didn’t like you, things with you and Colson would be over. He didn’t even have to tell you that, you just knew. And you couldn’t blame him; she’s the most important person in his life. But you loved Colson, and you wanted him to be around for a while. So, if you made a bad first impression, everything would crumble down.
And that’s exactly what you told him a few days later while you lay in bed, Ferris Bueller playing in the background as you traced the outlines of his tattoos.
Day 106
“What if Casie doesn’t like me?”
“Babe, she’s nine years old. She’ll get over it.” He kissed the top of your head lightly, fingers running up and down your spine.
“Yeah, but what if she doesn’t? I know you won’t wanna be with me if she doesn’t approve. And I don’t blame you. I don’t want to be with you if she doesn’t want me to be.”
He grabbed your chin, pulling you to look at him, “you worrying right now is exactly the reason she’s gonna love you and the reason why I already do.” He kissed you softly, your eyes fluttering closed. He still manages to take your breath away.
“I love you too,” you whispered, “I’m just scared of losing you.”
He chuckled, “Casie’s tough, I won’t lie, but she’s going to see just how amazing you are and fall right in love with you. And, if you want extra brownie points, you should let her help you bake something.”
“Was that accidental or were you trying to make a really bad pun?”
He pressed another kiss to your lips, chuckling slightly, “they don’t call me comedy genius for nothing, babe.”
“No one calls you that.”
Day 109
Colson had decided it would be best for you and Casie to meet at his house, mostly because he hated taking Casie out in LA. He’d ordered dinner to be delivered and told you he’d stocked up on baking supplies for you and Casie. Now all you had to do was show up.
He answered the door, pulling you in for a long kiss as soon as he saw you. “I love you.” He whispered, trying to ease your nerves. You spoke the words back to him, letting him take your hand and lead you inside. “Hey, Case, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
You’d seen Casie through pictures that Colson had shown you or from around the house, but she seemed so much prettier in person. You could tell by the way she moved that she took after her father, just like people always said about you. “I’m Y/N.” You said shyly, a soft smile on your face.
Casie beamed up at you, “I’m Casie. Dad talks about you a lot.”
You chuckled, turning to him, “he does?”
She nodded, “he thinks you’re great.”
“I think he’s pretty great too.” He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. “He tells me about you all the time.”
“Really?”
You smiled at her excitement, “heck yeah. I was so scared to meet you because of how cool he makes you sound.”
The three of you ate dinner, chatting conversation. You were less nervous than before; Casie seeming to like you, but you were still on edge. When you finished, Colson announced, “I happen to know that two of the best cookie makers in California are sitting at this table and I am not one of them.” He looked between you and Casie, a smile on his face. “So, I believe cookies are in order.”
You raised an eyebrow at him, an amused smile on your face. “You’re helping us.”
Casie nodded, “every master chef needs an assistant.”
“She speaks truth.”
Colson pouted at both of you, “I was gonna be the judge.”
Casie giggled, getting up from the table and dragging her dad by the arm to the kitchen. “Too bad!”
You stayed at the table, picking up dishes and taking them to the sink before joining the other two at the counter in front of a large bowl and a variety of ingredients. Colson was currently holding a bag of chocolate chips over Casie’s head as she jumped to reach it, failing miserably. “Y/N he won’t give me the chocolate chips.” She whined.
You gave Colson a stern look, “hand them over, noodle boy.” You held out your hand and he placed the bag into your palm, a pout on his face. Casie laughed, repeating the phrase “noodle boy” to herself as you handed her the bag.
“So, are you two just gonna team up against me the whole night?” He asked, looking between you two.
Casie and you made eye contact, firmly shaking your heads, “absolutely” you said at the same time.
#mgk#mgk imagine#mgk fluff#machine gun kelly#machine gun kelly imagine#colson imagine#machine gun kelly x reader#Colson baker#colson x reader#colson baker imagine#colson baker fluff#tommy lee
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Rescue - Draco Malfoy x Reader
Prompt: Draco Malfoy swoops in to rescue you from your ex, in Harry and Ginny’s anniversary party.
A/N: If you spot the iconic line of Howl in Howl’s Moving Castle, woohoo!
Keeping up with your friends from Hogwarts was something difficult to do. This was to do with your demanding schedule at St. Mungo’s Hospital. Being one of the best Mediwitches out there, you were given a tight schedule but with a high-paying salary.
The hospital was already like your second home. Working there all day and all night, there were times where you didn’t leave the Hospital after working a 30 hours shift. Co-workers have been noticing your overtimes and reported this to your supervisor, who always took pity on you and decided to give you the weekend off. As generous this was, you kept declining the offer until they told you it wasn’t an offer but a demand.
Finally giving in, you were leaving the Emergency Room, heading towards the Mediwitch’s lounge to change out of your scrubs just until from one of the emergency beds, a familiar voice stopped you from taking another step.
“Y/N Y/L/N, is that you?” the voice asked. You instantly recognized the owner of the voice as you turned around to see Harry Potter, along with his wife Ginny Weasely-Potter, waving at you with faces that looks surprised.
Well, if it isn’t the Potters!”, you walked over to them, giving Ginny a big hug and Harry a hand-shake as it was the only way of greeting him as his other hand was bandaged, covering the blood that was running from his hand. “What happened over here?” you asked, checking up on his hand and charts.
Ginny rolled her eyes at Harry and covered her face with her hand, “Harry insisted on building us a new dining table without magic and accidentally hammered his hand.”
“At least I tried!” Harry whined and then turned to look at you, “By the way Y/N, it’s a good thing we finally had the time to squeeze into your tight schedule. We were wondering if you’re free this weekend.”
“Depends,” you joked, “What’s happening this weekend?”
Ginny jumped in excitement, “Our 1st-anniversary party! All our good friends from Hogwarts and from work are invited. Please, please come! I’m sure there’s plenty of single men ready to mingle with you.” she squealed.
“Honey, I think the point of our guests being there is to join celebrate our one year of marriage. Please, don’t treat it was some party for singles.” he sarcastically said, holding Ginny’s hand.
“Still, will we be seeing you there, Y/N?” Ginny asked with the softest eyes she can give.
You nodded, “Without a doubt, you guys. I better get going, looks like I gotta go shopping.” You smiled and waved goodbye, a bit nervous about having to buy a dress. Events like an anniversary party of a friend’s require something more formal.
Shopping was not much of a hassle as after a few rounds around the boutiques, there was a beautiful silk black maxi dress, presented in a mannequin, in the center of the second floor’s boutique. With an instant, you grabbed it and purchased it, satisfied with your dress.
Slipping on your dress, you turned around, still can’t believing how well it was hugging you, showing off your curves. Adding jewelry and styling your hair added more beauty in your overall look, making you finally ready for the party that you have been waiting for.
Entering the venue, you were greeted by familiar faces from Hogwarts, telling you how much you’ve bloomed, gotten successful in your work, and thrived after school. Everything about this party made you feel nostalgic. Hogwarts still has a special place in your heart as it gave you great memories in life. Well, except for one in particular who happened to be in the party.
Cormac Mclaggen.
Let’s be real, how was he invited by Harry and Ginny? Didn’t Hermione despise him because you happened to be disgusted by him. After all, he was an ex of yours in school. You’d probably think since he was another ex in your life, things would be okay since you left that behind. But the way you ended things with him was in a terrible state.
During your Hogwarts years, you dated him for a couple of months. You didn’t know how much of a creep and ass he was until he showed his true colors.
You didn’t know when it started but you started hearing from Ron and Harry that he started taking interest in Hermione. Feeling hurt, you argued with him, asking why he’d do such a thing. All he did was shrug and said, “It’s no big deal, Y/N.” So you told him breaking up wouldn’t be a big deal then. Hermione felt bad for you and of course you told her this wasn’t her fault. He could have fell for almost everyone. Guess he just wasn’t the ‘serious commitment’ kind of guy in relationships.
Cormac sported you from across the venue and gave a creepy smile. Starting to walk towards your way, your nerves started kicking in, resulting in you freezing. Why was he going towards your way? Was he actually going to talk to you? After all these years? Why?
From the sidelines, a particular platinum blonde read the whole situation between you and Cormac. I mean, he kinda knew what was about to happen considering how jealous he was of seeing the love of his life, taken by some git. You barely exchanged conversations with Draco as you were always with the Golden trio. Even when you broke up with Cormac, he didn’t have the guts to talk to you.
But this time he did, and was hoping for redemption.
As Cormac reached his destination, he gave a small wave and smiled, “Why hello, Y/N. It’s good to see you here. Are you with someone on this fine night?”
Before you could come up with the worst excuse ever, an arm wrapped around your waist, tightening its grip.
“Ah, there you are sweetheart!” Said the familiar voice.
Looking at your right, you see Draco Lucius Malfoy raising a glass to you and Cormac.
“Sorry, I’m late, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He smiled, kissing your cheek softly. “Good to see you, Mclaggen but excuse us.”
As Draco walked you away from Cormac, you deeply exhaled, “Thank you so much, Draco. But how did you know I needed an exit?”
“From the moment you locked eyes with him, I could already tell you wished you didn’t spot him.”
“Yeah?” You sounded surprised.
He turned to you and grinned, “I suppose it was also a way of getting to finally talk to you.”
Hearing this, you blushed, smiling at him like a fool in love. “Well it has been awhile since we’ve shared our small conversations. I mean, we were never really close to begin with.”
“I’d like to change that, if that were okay with you.”
Nodding, he took glasses of champagne for the two of you and motioned for you to walk out to the balcony for fresh air.
“So,” you said, looking at the view, “How have you been Draco? Job? Family? Happiness?”
Chuckling at your direct questions, he looked into the view as well.
“I’ve been doing alright. I work in the Ministry of Magic, it’s just me at the Manor, and I’m happy but it’s not enough to call me the happiest man in this world. You?”
“Oh wow. Well, I’ve been having the most challenging times ever.” You laughed, “Being one of the best Mediwitches in St. Mungo’s really been giving me a demanding schedule. I haven’t been able to see friends. But I guess my job makes me happy. I believe having an actual life would make me happier.”
“What about family?”
“Hm?”
“You mentioned friends but not family. But I assume you don’t have a boyfriend or husband?” He said, sounding quite curious about it.
You shook your head, “None of those. I just haven’t met the right person yet.”
“I did.”
You turned to him with a confused look. “I don’t recall you saying you had a girlfriend or wife?”
“I don’t but I met the right person for me and she’s standing right in front of me.”
As you processed the words that just came right from his mouth, he took this opportunity to cup your face with his hands and kiss you.
Stunned, you widened your eyes but eventually kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carried you, spinning you around as he continued to kiss you.
The both of you were interrupted by a slight cough sound in the back. Pulling away and turning around, you were greeted by Harry and Ginny who looked like they couldn’t stop themselves from holding their laughs.
“So sorry,” Harry spoke, “But we were just about to give a toast until we saw how our guests were looking at you instead. Would you mind and join raise your glasses for us?” He scratched the back of his head.
Looking out, you see guests and friends grinning at the two of you as if they were quite entertained and surprised that Draco Malfoy finally made a move on you.
“Don’t worry, we won’t bother you after” Ginny snickered, secretly wanting you two to continue what you were doing.
As Harry and Ginny went back inside, Draco shyly looked back at you and gave an embarrassed smile, “Right, well-”
You quickly gave him a quick peck on the lips, “I suppose we can wait a few minutes. After all, this is their party, a party about their marriage.”
As you both walked towards the entrance, he lowered his head, whispering in your ears, “One day, we’ll have a party like theirs.”
Butterflies started flying in your stomach as you held his hand tightly, rejoining the party to listen to Harry and Ginny’s toast.
#Draco Malfoy#Draco Malfoy x Reader#Draco Malfoy Imagine#Draco Malfoy Imagines#Draco Malfoy x Y/n#Draco Malfoy x you#Draco Malfoy fanfic#Draco Malfoy fanfiction#Draco Lucius Malfoy#Slytherin#Hogwarts#Hogwarts x Reader#Hogwarts Imagines#Hogwarts imagine#Hogwarts oneshots#Draco Malfoy oneshots#Harry Potter#Harry Potter x Reader#Harry Potter Imagines#Harry Potter Imagine#Slytherin oneshots#Tom Felton#Tom Felton x Reader#Tom Felton Imagines#Tom Felton Oneshots#Tom Felton x y/n#Tom Felton fanfic#Tom Felton Fanfiction#Tom Felton x you
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Baby’s 1st Halloween {Rowaelin}
31 Days of Halloween: Day 4.
All installments co-written with @snelbz
Based on a prompt sent in by anon: “ Baby’s first Halloween”
Aelin loved Halloween. She loved the pumpkins, loved the decorations, loved the costumes, and loved the candy. This holiday was special, though, because it was the first Halloween that Lena was celebrating. Not only the first Halloween, but the first holiday. She was only a month old, and that made her a Halloween baby.
Of course, Aelin had bought multiple costumes, unsure of which one she had wanted to dress Lena in to begin with. A strawberry, a kitten, a little zombie, and a traditional pumpkin. Rowan thought she was ridiculous, thought she was overthinking it, but Aelin knew just how important it was.
Now that the day had arrived, she was looking at the spread of costumes atop her bed. Of course, Aelin had costumes to match every one of Lena’s, which Rowan also found ridiculous.
Little did he know that she had gotten him one to match every costume, too.
She had just laid Lena down for a nap and was looking over her options. They had to be at Chaol and Yrene’s for the party at six. She turned and looked at the clock. Quarter to three.
She looked down at the zombie costume, started thinking about the time it would take to not only apply nontoxic, green makeup to a squirming infant, but also to her grumbling husband and nixed it from the lineup, even though it was adorable.
Aelin observed the other three options and sighed. The strawberry was cute, but she figured that Rowan’s least favorite outfit was the strawberry farmer, which included overalls.
Although the traditional pumpkin was cute as shit, Aelin decided on the kitten. Rowan would be a puppy, and although he’d be grumpy about it and throw a little man fit, it was better than the other options. Besides, Aelin didn’t mind dressing up as a cat.
For the first time in a long time, it almost made her feel sexy.
Before she would wake up Lena, Aelin would get herself ready. All while keeping an eye on the clock, she showered, blow-dried her hair, and painted a kitten-face on her, which included a nose and whiskers. After putting on the kitten-ears headband, and applying mascara, Aelin decided to give Rowan a call.
The phone rang and rang before he finally answered. “Hello?”
“Hey,” Aelin breathed. “Will you be home soon? Me and Lena are already getting ready for the party.”
“I’m about fifteen minutes out,” he said, but there was hesitation.
“Ro…”
“I just left the station, okay?” He admitted. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. They needed me to finish up some arrest reports for the end of the month. If they weren’t filed when I left, it would’ve been my ass.”
“We have to leave the house at five-forty. You have to be showered and ready to go by five-thirty,” she said, sighing.
“I’ll be there, I’ll make it, I promise.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “So help the gods, if I get your infant daughter ready before you are, I’m going to kill you.”
“I love you, too,” he responded, and she knew he was smiling.
“Love you,” she said, sighing, as she hung up.
Aelin crept down the hall and into the nursery, where Lena was fast asleep.
Aelin hated waking Lena up from a nap, and she hardly did, but on Halloween it was necessary. It was Lenas first holiday party and Aelin would not be late.
“Lena,” she sang. “Time to wake up, sweet love.”
Her infant did not respond.
With a sigh, Aelin took Lena out of her crib and held her tightly against her chest as she carried her back down the hall, to her bedroom.
By the grace of the gods, she managed to get Lena dressed while she was asleep. She was finishing up with the little eyeliner whiskers when a wail bigger than any baby her size should make burst from her lips. “No no, no,” she cooed, picking her up and holding her to her chest. She rocked and bounced her, the infant’s cries getting more and more desperate.
“Why is my sweet girl crying?”
Aelin turned and found Rowan entering their room, still dressed in his uniform. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I’m not surprised,” he chuckled, taking Lena from his wife. She immediately quieted down, as she always did in her father’s arms.
Aelin sighed, exasperated. “She never cries with you. What magical quality do you possess?”
Rowan grinned, kissing Aelin’s forehead before he kicked off his shoes. “You gave birth to a daddy’s girl, what can I say?”
“At least she looks like me,” Aelin muttered.
Rowan chuckled as Lena’s eyes opened and she took Rowan in.
“Hello, my love,” he whispered. “You look very cute. Yes you do. Mommy did a good job. She looks cute, too, your mommy. Yes she does.”
Aelin smiled fondly at the pair before looking at the time on her phone. “You gotta hurry, Ro!”
He rolled his eyes. “Party times are more of a suggestion, babe.”
One look at his wife told him that being late was absolutely not an option.
“I just have to shower and get dressed, and we’re out the door,” he promised, bouncing Lena until her turquoise and gold eyes felt shut again, until her breathing evened out once more and her chubby, little hand fell away from Rowan’s chest.
Aelin crossed her arms. “And I have to paint a spot around your eye.”
“Oh, no, looks like we won’t have time for that,” Rowan sang, gently laying Lena down on the bed, careful not to wake her. His grin was far too handsome as he turned and pressed a kiss to Aelin’s forehead before hurrying into their bathroom and turning the shower on.
Thirty minutes later, and ten behind schedule, they were loading a dozing Lena into the car and hitting the road. Rowan grumbled every time he looked in the rear view mirror and saw the large, black spot Aelin had filled in around his eye.
“Oh, hush, you look great,” she said from the passenger seat, reapplying her lipstick.
“I look ridiculous,” he muttered.
Aelin dropped her lipstick back in her purse. “What was that?”
“I said that I love you,” he said, sighing, louder, even though he knew fully well that she had heard him the first time. “I’m so in love with you that I’m dressed as a puppy for Halloween.”
Aelin huffed a laugh as she leaned across the console and pressed a kiss to his cheek, leaving a lipstick mark on his tanned skin. “That’s what I thought you said.”
He sighed, saying nothing else.
When they arrived at the Westfall house though, he was extremely, extremely thankful he and all of his friends, by some miracle, were able to settle down and start having kids all around the same couple years.
Lorcan was dressed as a dragon, long tail included and face paint included, while Elide and their eighteen-month-old son were a princess and a knight. He’d never seen someone looking so unhappy.
Fenrys, not caring what he wore, thanks to his obnoxiously happy personality, was Buzz Lightyear, complete with a helmet he had tucked under his arm. Jessie and Woody, aka Asterin and their eleven-month-old little boy, were running around somewhere.
Dorian, at least, looked content in his costume, striped shirt and devilishly twirled mustache drawn on, holding their two-month-daughter, who dressed as a bag of jewels. Manon’s cop uniform was nothing like Rowan’s, hanging in his closet back home, and that was probably for the best.
Rowan decided to take a spot by Lorcan as Aelin made her rounds, showing Lena off to all of their friends.
“Nice costume,” Rowan said, grinning.
“Fuck off,” Lorcan muttered. “I’ve knocked three drinks over with this damn tail and we just got here ten minutes ago.”
Rowan snorted. “Such a grumpy dragon.”
“Says the grown man dressed as a pup,” Lorcan shot back.
Rowan repeated his friend's earlier sentiment. “Fuck off.”
It wasn’t long before Aedion joined the men, chuckling slightly. He was dressed as a pirate.
“What's so funny?” Lorcan asked, eyeing the beer in his hands.
“Lys is trying to convince Aelin to do Jager bombs,” he replied, shaking his head.
Rowan blinked. “She’s breastfeeding.”
“That’s what Aelin said,” Aedion replied, taking a swig of his beer.
“Trust me, when she’s able to drink again, I’m sure she’ll be taking Lys out for a night on the town,” Rowan followed, watching as Elide took Lena into her arms and began telling the infant how she was going to be her favorite aunt.
“Elide’s had a glass of wine tonight. She only just started drinking again, and that one glass has her tipsy as hell,” Lorcan said.
Rowan slowly looked at him. “You do realize she’s holding my newborn right now. That’s not comforting, at all.”
Lorcan only grinned.
Thankfully, Asterin was reaching over for her turn with Lena, so Rowan let out a slow, relieved breath.
He looked around, taking in the smiling faces of their family, hearing the constant giggling of their children and his heart felt so damn full.
Rowan Whitethorn couldn’t believe this was his life.
Ridiculous costume and all.
#31 days of halloween#rowaelin#day 4#rowan#aelin#tog#throne of glass#fanfic#fanfiction#oneshot#drabble#fluff#2nd gen
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I3+Bakudeku mutual pining idiots Actor AU @miss-lorali request. I’m an idiot cause my idea is gonna be waaaay longer then I was aiming for lol.
“Okay,” the hiring director motioned for the pair to move closer. “Mr. Midoriya, remember you’re a scientist and Bakugou’s character is here to take you to safety. But you don’t understand why just yet. So, if you are ready, please begin the reading.”
Katsuki gesturing wildly, “pack it up quick nerd, we gotta get out of here before DAV gets here!”
Izuku pretending to complete a file download. He slammed his fist on the imaginary desk. “I can’t make the computer move faster! I don’t even understand what the hell is going on!”
Katsuki, “you’re science experiments aren’t important, we—”
Izuku straightened out, walked over and placed a finger on the larger man’s chest, running it slowly down from his collarbone to his pecs, while lowering his tone and narrowing his eyes. “Oh,” his brow raised, “and what would a grunt like you know about science?”
Katsuki slapped his hand away in annoyance, though a light flush arose on his tinged cheeks. “F-Fuck off!” He gritted back. “Just hurry the fuck up!”
“Yeah, yeah...” Izuku went back to the imaginary desk and pretended to type something. “30 seconds, fast enough for you? Probably like your bedroom speed,” he mumbled the last portion.
“What?!”
“And cut!” The hiring director yelled. “That was perfect!! Midoriya you’re hired!”
“Oh hell no!” Katsuki screamed at the director. “He added lines at the end! How is that okay?!”
“Because,” the woman countered. “It was still perfectly in character, and you know very well that the Director allows actors to ad lib if it fits the scene.”
Katsuki crossed his arms, “I refuse to work with him.”
“You’ve already signed the contract,” her brow perked up, “and may I remind you of the penalty if you quit now?”
“Find someone else!”
“No. The chemistry between you two came through perfectly on camera. It’s done. He’s it. End of discussion.” The woman then ignored the raging blonde and turned to Izuku. “I’ll let your agent know so we can sign the contracts, and I’ll have the full script sent to their office by end of day along with the filming schedule. You did a great job today holding your own and not getting lost next to Bakugou. I’m glad to have you on board with this project.”
“Thank you so much, Ms. Ashido. I was quite excited when I heard about the project and look forward to being part of the team.”
“Kiss ass,” Katsuki sneered. “You’re in. No need for simpering.”
But Izuku played it cool. He wasn’t about to play into the leads temper tantrum. “You might be top as an action star, but I have my own credit successes. So, stop treating me like the hired help, or I’ll make you scream in another way.”
Katsuki’s eyes flashed wide and mouth hung agape. It’s been a long time since anyone’s stood up to him and this smaller, green-haired, freckle-faced mouse just grew a set of balls to rival his own. “H-how dare you?!”
“I dare,” Izuku grinned brightly. “See ya later Kacchan!” He waved as he walked away.
Ms. Ashido giggled. “Oooo, this is gonna be so good! I must say I’d chalked him up as iffy, but he really proved me wrong.”
“Little shit is already giving me a nickname? Who the fuck does he think he is?!”
“Your new co-star.” She patted his chest twice and walked away with a smirk.
“Fuck!” What did he just get himself into?!
That afternoon, Katsuki left the studio in a total huff. And to think, he’d gone in excited to be working with Izuku Midoriya. Their movie credits ran in different circles, but he knew exactly who the man was. Izuku was from all he’d seen a great actor, and the perfect person to play his opposite. The guy looked like a handsome office worker, lean but built well, smaller then himself, and would fit snuggly against his chest in a romantic scene. In fact, it was after one of Izuku’s very first movies as a lead that a crush bloomed for the man. He had expected a quieter guy, but oh, boy! Had he been blindsided! And if that didn’t just turn him on even more!
Hence the dilemma he now found himself in. He’d have to act side by side with a man he was extremely attracted to, but only pretended to be. Katsuki was certain that Izuku’s attitude during the read was the same as his— pretending. Because that’s how you sell a movie. If the audience buys into what you’re selling, box office sales will go up. It’s not supposed to be real emotions. Heaven help him this just might kill him!
At home, he read through the script again noting the section that would be his hardest to overcome. The love scenes. No full nudity, not even close, but there is a section near the end where in a moment of pent up emotions, and the exhilarating rush of emotions, they end up lip-locked. Granted, the more realistic it is, the better, but Katsuki felt the nerves kicking in just thinking about it. He could only pray that in the real moment, and energies are heightened, he simply runs on instinct and acting prowess.
‘Come on, dumbass! It’s not your first kiss scene!’ Katsuki growled to himself in the safety of his own home. “Stupid!” He was making himself all flustered like some virginal teenager about to kiss his first crush! Fuck that! He wasn’t about to show Izuku any weakness! The last thing he wanted was for the man to figure out he was really just an overgrown pining fool behind a mask of anger. He didn’t even know which way the man swung because Izuku kept his life private, very private. A miracle in their world of paparazzi. It meant two things, Izuku really was good at hiding, or simply wasn’t seeing anyone for them to catch. Either way, Katsuki couldn’t figure out what he desperately wanted to know. Did he have a chance?
A month later, Katsuki and Izuku found themselves on location in Europe where most of the scenes would be filmed. The premise of the movie is of a top-tier scientist in the field of chemicals played by Izuku, who is to be kidnapped. But because MI6 caught wind of the plan, they sent in one of their agents played by Katsuki to get Izuku to safety. They barely make it out of the lab in time and now they’re on the run, being hunted by a group called the DAV who want Izuku to create chemical weapons for them. Katsuki needed to somehow get Izuku safely from his home in France, back to England where the MI6 brass waited to secret him into permanent hiding.
“Stop, stop, stop!” Izuku screamed and yanked Katsuki to halt. The moment they stop moving, he collapsed onto his knees, clutching his chest trying to catch his breath from all the running. “W-what is going on?!”
“Look,” Katsuki tried to yank the man back to his feet, but Izuku slumped and played a dead weight. “Damn it, we gotta get out of here before someone sees us!”
“No! I-I can’t keep running like this! I’m not exactly athletic! Now, tell me what the hell is going on!”
Katsuki growled and ignored Izuku’s pleas. He grabbed him instead and dead lifted him up, hoisting the man onto his shoulder in a fireman carry. Izuku bucked, but Katsuki literally slapped his ass to behave. “Just shut up for now,” he snapped and took off running down the alleyway. “I’ll explain everything when I get us somewhere safe!”
“If I’m the victim, shouldn’t you be nicer to me?!” Izuku retorted.
“I’ll be nicer if you stop causing me a headache!”
As soon as they exit the alley, Katsuki quickly surveyed his options. The bad guys blew up his car, so he needed transportation. He saw a man exiting a vehicle and rushed over, pulling a gun on them.
“Gimme the keys,” he aimed at the man’s head, to which they immediately complied. “Now scram!”
Katsuki put Izuku back on his feet. “Get in!”
“Where are we go—”
“Just get in the fucking car!”
Once Izuku is inside the passenger side, Katsuki got into the drivers and hightailed it out of there, heading towards the outskirts of town.
“Trailing car... And cut! Perfect!” The director called out. “Thirty minute break to reset for the next scene.”
“Kacchan, wanna get some lunch with me?” Izuku asked as they stepped out of the car.
“No,” Katsuki replied and quickly walked away, leaving his co-actor standing there with a sad, pouting look on his face.
‘Don’t turn around!’ He screamed at himself. Just co-workers, he reminded. Don’t get too close to that cute... freckled... “Fuck!” Katsuki screamed the moment he slammed his trailer door behind him and fell back against it. ‘Why’d I slap his ass!’ He groaned and ran a hand down his face. It wasn’t in the script and apparently the director didn’t mind it. ‘You did it cause you wanted to...’ his conscience chimed back. “Fuck you.” That’s not true...
A few minutes later there was a knock at his door. “Go away!” Katsuki snapped, he didn’t want to be bothered. Then a second knock, and a shuffling sound. “Go the fuc—” He whipped the door open to find no one standing there. “What the?” That’s when his looked down and saw a wrapped sandwich and a piece of paper tucked under it. Katsuki picked it up and closed door, opening up the sandwich to eat it. He was hungry, just didn’t want to take Izuku up on his offer. As he ate he opened the note:
I just wanna be friends :) that was a taxing scene, so you must be hungry. See you back on set. -I
It had been Izuku.
“Tch.” Katsuki bit down on the sandwich. ‘Didn’t have the balls to stick around though.’ But despite his grumping, he couldn’t help the light blush filtering onto his cheeks and warmth filling his body. Izuku was just too damn nice.
Filming an action movie was a lot more taxing then the consumers might realize. Thankfully, stunt doubles did the hardest scenes for the pair, but close ups and cardio elements were all them, and to see Izuku keeping up with him left Katsuki pleasantly surprised. Too pleasant. Moments in close confines, of him holding or dragging the man around left his libido in agony by end of day only to be relieved by a hand it didn’t want. Almost four months of agony had left Katsuki’s mind a buzz, trapped in a cycle of false realities and wishful thinking.
It was the last day of filming, and the scene Katsuki had dreaded had finally arrived. So much so, that he’d convinced the producer to hold off on filming it till the very end despite it taking place two-thirds of the way through the movie itself. Screw it, they can edit and splice it in. For a lot of actors, the intimately romantic parts were the hardest to accomplish, because conveying such raw emotions and making it believably real for the audience took great finesse.
They were holed up for the night in a small run down inn Katsuki managed to find after crossing the French border into Belgium. They were both exhausted, Izuku’s character more so, unused to such physical demands. DAV always managed to catch up to them within a day or two, so it left them little time to breathe, and Izuku was at his breaking point.
The smaller male pounded on Katsuki’s chest while tears streamed down his face. “I can’t keep doing this! Why can’t they just leave me alone?!”
Katsuki grabbed Izuku’s flailing arms gently to stop him. “I don’t know why.” He pulled the man towards the bed to sit down, taking a place beside him as he did his best to console. “But I promise I’ll keep you safe. We’ll get to safety soon and it will all be over with.”
Izuku sobbed harder, burying his face in Katsuki’s shoulder. His fingers gripped tightly to the man’s torn shirt. “You can’t promise me that,” he mumbled. “I’ve caused you so much trouble, maybe it’s best if I gave myself up to them.”
Katsuki pushed the man back and forced Izuku to look up at him. “Don’t you do that! Don’t you dare! You think I’m gonna just let them take you?!” His voice cracked as he channeled real emotions of the fear of losing this man. “You... I’m not letting them take you away from me Hitomu!”
Izuku looked up when he heard the pain behind Katsuki’s words to find tears pooling and clouded ruby red eyes. He held the man’s gaze for several seconds, staring, lip quivering. “I don’t want to leave you either, Takeo.” Izuku’s fingers slowly uncurl, smoothing out and lowering to Katsuki’s firm abdomen where it came to rest just above the waistline and pressed in firmly. “I feel safe with you.”
Katsuki’s breathing slowed as his eyes widened. Shit! He’s not ready for this scene! He thought he was, oh how he wanted to just rush in and steal Izuku’s lips! But his mind froze as glistening emerald eyes held it hostage. What was his lines? Are there any lines? Fuck! He couldn’t think straight!
“Cut!” The director yelled. “Bakugou, what’s the problem? You hold the gaze for a second then kiss him. Do you need a break?”
This was the first time since making it big that Katsuki’s messed up a scene like this. He took a moment to snap out of his trance, then yelled back. “No! Let’s just get this over with.”
“Alright. Places people, let’s take it from the last line Midoriya. Action!”
Izuku repeated the last line, “I feel safe with you,” adding a deeper grip to the waist band of Katsuki’s pants.
Katsuki’s eyes lower, half-lidded as he reached out and caressed Izuku’s face gently, cupping the man’s cheek before leaning in and landing a solid kiss. His mind was barely holding it together to keep his actions gentle.
Izuku reacted accordingly, once again his fingers gripping to the fabric of Katsuki’s clothes as the kiss was deepened considerably.
Katsuki’s hand trailed up and behind, tangling into his co-actors green curls. He let go of any control and lost himself in their embrace, in the feel of Izuku’s supple lips against his own. In that moment, they were no longer filming a movie scene, but transported into the blonde’s fantasy, of so much more that he’d love to do this man’s body. His eyes rolled back and fluttered as Izuku trailed heated kisses down to the nape of his neck, pressing firm nibbles and light mewling whines.
“Kacchan...” Izuku huskily whispered too low for the microphone to pick up.
But Katsuki heard it loud and clear, and he responded with a rumbling groan that went straight to his groin. Izuku had used his nickname... Not the characters name! His nickname! And damn did it sound sweet to his ears! Katsuki’s too far gone and doesn’t stop the decent, even as the smaller male applied pressure, allowing Izuku to guide them deeper onto the bed. Hands followed curves and groped flesh as they moved under the confines of shirts in the makings of a sex scene. Izuku truly felt wonderful against him, moving in time with his movements like a perfect dance. It was only once on his back, with their bodies semi-entwined, that the director finally yelled cut, and Katsuki’s fantasy came to a screeching halt.
“Brilliant work guys!” The director congratulated his two stars as they made their way off the bed. “I think we can call it a wrap!”
Applause rang out on the set as everyone was high-fiving or shaking hands, patting the two men on the back and adding to the job well done message. Izuku was blushed and beaming, but Katsuki still flustered from the scene, ignored the jovial repartee and beelined it to his trailer for some privacy. It was a miracle no one noticed the slight pitch in his pants, because now he was fucking horny! If the director hadn’t stopped them, who knows how far things would have gone. The sound of Izuku’s voice whispering his name continued to repeat in Katsuki’s mind like a siren, but he couldn’t give into it.
“This was just acting!” Katsuki screamed in the safety of his trailer as he punched the wall as hard as he could. It’s a fantasy! A goddamn fantasy world! And it’s over! “Stop thinking about him!” At that moment, there’s a knock on his trailer door followed by his name being called out.
“Kacchan? What was that loud bang?”
Fuck! It was Izuku again!
“Kacchan?” More determined pounding on the doror. “Kacchan, c-can we talk, please, I need to talk to you.”
“I’m fine, go away!”
“I’m not going away, we need to talk about what just happened!”
Katsuki growled and slammed the door wide open, ignoring the throb of his hand. “No, we don’t! It was just a scene Izuku!” But after shouting his piece-of-mind, he’s taken slightly aback at the teary-eyed man who looked like he was on the verge of crying.
“It wasn’t just a scene for me, Kacchan.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Katsuki questioned, though again his whispered nickname sprang back to the forefront. Had Izuku said it on purpose?!
“Did you feel nothing between us?” Izuku’s lip quivered as he spoke. “Was the passion that came out on set just acting?” His voice cracked. “If you say yes, I-I’ll leave you alone. It’s just— I took this job because... I like you, Kacchan. I’ve liked you for a long time and thought maybe... but— that’s okay, just forget it,” he turned to walk away unwilling to take the rejection face-forward. “Thank you for the opportunity to work with you.”
Katsuki stood in his spot completely stunned by the confession. But the further Izuku moved away from his trailer, he quickly realized he was about to lose the very thing he’d come to desire. He raced after the man and grabbed him by the shoulder, spinning him around, and slammed his lips into the stunned Izuku. It was filled with an even more heightened passion then before, now that there was no audience watching them. He nibbled at the man’s bottom lip, eliciting a groan, while Izuku’s hands grabbed desperately onto his shirt, holding tight.
“Fucking nerd,” Katsuki mumbled with a smile while threading his fingers through Izuku’s hair. “How could I not want you too after you’d riled me up since the day we met.”
Izuku blushed in embarrassment. “S-sorry for coming on so strong. I just got in my head that I needed to look cool and not a pining mess. I really wanted to work with you.”
“Tch, I guess I can’t really talk, because I acted like an asshole, so I didn’t look like a pining idiot.” Katsuki laughed. “Guess we’re both pining idiots.” He kissed Izuku again and lowered his voice to a sultry tone. “Wanna finish what we started?”
Izuku giggled as his hands tugged at the man’s waistband. “Most definitely.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Silly Bonus: from a chat with a friend lol
As they start to walk back towards Katsuki’s trailer, Izuku takes hold of the man’s hand. But now that the adrenaline had worn off, Katsuki immediately flinched from the pain. Izuku stopped and lifted it up for inspection, seeing the slight swell of the man’s knuckles and drying blood. “Oh my goodness, Kacchan was that noise from you punching the wall?”
“What? No!” He pulled his hand back and hid it behind his back.
“You’re bleeding, we should get the medics.”
“I’m fine, it’s fine, it’s just ketchup.”
“Ketchup?” Izuku’s brow raised. “Really?”
“Really.”
Izuku:
#bakudeku#bkdk#katsudeku#ktdk#bakudeku au#actor au#katsuki bakugou#izuku midoriya#bakugou katsuki#midoriya izuku#bakudeku fan fic#bakugou x midoriya#bakudeku fan fiction#bnha#katsuki x izuku#I’ll be cleaning this up for ao3 later#when I think of a title lol
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Rocky Mountain Skies
So I live in the 719 (CO) and I have been DYING to write about it so here’s this hot ass mess Also it’s my first multipart story on tumblr so bear with me (I’ll do a part two because omg)
Christmas is a magical time of year where families get together and revisit the political opinions of the past month but turn around and gift each other things. For the (L/N) family it was no different.
(Y/n) waltzed through the bullpen, coffee in one hand, phone in the other.
“Yes mom I’ll be home for Christmas,” she set her things down and sat at her desk, “No mom I already requested the two weeks off, I’ll be fine,” her sigh caught a few peoples attentions.
“Mom seriously, I get into Denver Sunday at 11, papa already said he’d come pick me up. . . yes mom I know how old he is but you don’t have time remember, besides it’ll be nice to see him. . . Mom I gotta go I have a meet- yes mom I’ll let you know when I get to the airport. . . Mom I have to go byeee” She clicked her phone and leaned back, letting out a long groan.
“Mom troubles?” Derek smirked.
“You have NO idea, I love her but she needs to chill,” she smiled.
“Well I think it’s sweet,” he toys.
“Of course you do, go to work,” she shook her head teasingly.
“All right, all right,” he laughed and walked off. (Y/n) stayed seated at her desk for a majority of the day, skipping lunch to finish files. People stopped by to make small talk while she worked, which she happily sat through. As the day continued on people started packing up their things to head home. It was quiet, the only people left were (Y/n), Spencer, JJ, and Hotch.
(Y/n) Stretched, popping her back, before getting up and walking around the desks. She set her hand on a chair and spun it so the messy haired man was facing her. She smiled at him brightly.
“Hey Spence”
“Hi, uh, is something wrong?”
“No I just wanted to talk to you is all,” she sat on his desk.
“About?” he looked at her curiously. He watched the way her hair set on her shoulders and framed her face, the way her waist dipped and hips bulged slightly, the way her thighs squished when she sat. He forced his eyes beack up to her and felt his face go a little warm.
“You know in the past three years I’ve been here I don’t think I’ve seen you take a vacation, and it’s none of my business if you save it or whatever but I was curious, why?” her face twisted in thought. He sat for a second and thought.
“Well I mean I go “home” occasionally, but I guess I’ve just never had a desire to go anywhere,” he shrugged, “I mean all we do is travel for work so I guess it never really crossed my mind” he smiled at her.
“Well, I uh, look I have an extra plane ticket back home. My ex was supposed to go with me but we broke things off a few months ago. So I guess I’m trying to say if you want to, you could come with me. I mean you totally dont have to and I mean-”
“To Colorado?” he quirked his eyebrow.
“I mean, yes? but only if you want to, I mean you’re my best friend, and closest one so I figured I’d ask before getting a refund,” she twisted her foot into the ground.
“Do I get a cowboy hat?”
She looked up surprised and laughed, “Duh”
“Then I’ll go”
The two weaved through the airport traffic. The building was loud and crowded and both were getting antsy. (Y/n) clutched her bag tight as they maneuvered through the crowds of people. Finally making it outside, the cold mountain air bit at their skin. A old man stood at the end of a row of cars holding a huge sign
‘(Y/N) (L/N)’ written in huge letters decorated the sign.
“Papa!” she cried and dropped her bags, getting swallowed into a hug that itself felt like home. Spencer stood awkwardly by watching the two.
“Where are my manners, My Name is Jim (L/N) but you can call me Papa. You must be Spencer?” The man, Jim introduced himself. He was only about 5′10″ and was clad in a red and white pearl snap with stained coveralls over top. His face was covered mostly by a long Beard and Mustache and he had a pair of glasses perched on top of his head.
“Oh, uh yes sir I’m Spencer,” He smiled at the man who held his hand out. Spencer shook it gladly.
“Well we need to get you kids home. Granny is making soup for dinner,” he bent down and picked up (Y/n)’s bag and rolled it to a old pick up truck, may be ten years old Spencer guessed. He stared at the backseat for a second, his stomach turned, maybe this wasn’t the best idea, maybe he shouldn’t have came, I mean I’m being so awkward an-
“Spence what are you waiting for?, hop in,” (Y/n) called from the back seat. He blinked a few times at her before jumping in and closing the door. She leaned over to him, “I didn’t want you to be alone back here,” she pulled back and smiled.
“Thank you,” he breathed a sigh of relief. As close as they were he had never met her family. He had spent countless nights sitting on her couch easting Chinese food while they finished files or watched bad movies but he still felt nervous being around her like this.
“So Spencer, where are you from?”
“I’m from Vegas,” he replied meekly.
“A gambler huh?” The old man grinned at him in the rear view, “you any good?”
Spencer laughed and shook his head, “I guess we’ll have to see,” he teased back. Jim laughed and smiled at his granddaughter.
“i like this one”
“You like him just because you’re bad at Texas Hold em” she playfully rolled her eyes.
“Hey whatever gets the money,” he laughed again. It was a laugh that filled you with joy. Spencer finally understood where (Y/n) got hers from.
“So Spencer, I know a feller like you can’t be single, so do you have a lady back in D.C.?”
“PAPA!” (Y/n) shrieked, “Don’t go running him off already, good god” she shook her head.
“What I’m curious, he’s a handsome man,” Jim grinned. Spencer was full on burning at this point.
“No sir, I’m single,” He almost mumbled out.
“You know who else is single. (Y/n),” Jim wiggled his eyebrows. (Y/n) glowed the same red that the poor man next to her did.
“Papa oh good god. Stick to breaking horses not my love life, and besides you’re gonna make him regret coming here before he even sees the ranch,” she rolled her eyes. Spencer actually laughed. The two of them were obviously close, it was . . . nice. It was a nice break from what they deal with every day.
The rest of the car ride went by semi fast, (Y/n) explained all of her plans for the two of them while they were here. She was almost glowing with excitement. The wooden fence that stretched along the property line came into view as the truck began up the drive. A gorgeous two story log cabin came into view behind a row of evergreens. The wood was a beautiful light brown, and towered over the yard. A old lady was standing on the porch dressed in a fleece nightgown and brown slippers. She waved as the truck stopped. The group jumped out and began grabbing bags.
“There’s my baby girl,” the woman hugged (Y/n) tightly. She had her same eyes. The woman stood maybe 5′2′ and had a pink and white fleeced nightgown on. Her grey hair fell in neat curls down her back. Her face was wrinkled and warm, the kind that you know showed so much joy in her younger years.
“And this must be Spencer, You’re even more handsome in person,” she cood at him.
“grandma!”
“It’s alright. Yes ma’am I’m Spencer,” he smiled at her, “It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” he grinned.
“Oh where are my manners, lets get you babies inside and warm,” she ushered everyone in. “(Y/n) baby your room is all set up, but um there’s been a change of plans,” The lady frowned.
“What Dawn is trying to say is that your mom and your stepdad are staying in the last guest room, and your cousin Rita is in the other”
“WHAT!” (Y/n) yelled. “Mom said her the Stepdouch were staying home for Christmas! I was promised to get you two to myself. And Rita!” she was fuming. Spencer set his hand on her shoulder, trying to bring her back to earth.
“We know baby but she insisted that you wouldn’t go see her if she stayed,”
“Of course not, not after what she did!”
“And Rita is your cousin, at least try to play nice,” Jim begged.
“No, Not after what they did!” (Y/n) was breathing ragged, anger radiating off of her body.
“Hey, uh why don’t you help me to my room?” Spencer forced her to look at him. She sighed and grabbed her bag.
“Okay” she grabbed his hand and began through the living room up the stairs. Spencer admired the “family” room on the balcony overlooking the living room. (Y/n) led him around the bend and over to the room. She popped the door open and let him inside. She followed and closed the door after her.
“So since my cousin Rita took the guest room we’ll have to share this one, I’m really sorry. I have an air mattress that I can sleep on and you can have the bed. This isn’t how I wanted this to go, I’m sorry,” she spoke almost in tears.
“Hey you didn’t know and I’m kicking you out of your bed, I’ll sleep on the air mattress, besides we can always still do everything you planned. We’ll be okay,” he smiled and held her face. She let a tear fall.
“I know but this was supposed to be a fun trip for you,”
“It will be, what’s more fun than two weeks without work,” he smiled and pushed her hair behind her ear.
“It’s only like one, so would you show me the property?” he smiled.
“Sure, but we need to get you a new wardrobe,” she laughed.
“Hey what’s wrong with my clothes?” he spun for her.
“Well for starters you’re in loafers and there’s snow on the ground, and second I do owe you a cowboy hat,” she grinned. “Come on lets play dress up”
The two of them sat in the attic surrounded by boxes of old clothes. She held up a nice quilt lined coat, identical to the light brown one she had on.
“That should fit, he was about your size,” she smiled and handed him the coat.
“Who?” he asked and examined the inside of the coat when it stared him right in the face.
‘Merry christmas daddy, (Y/n)’ stitched on the tag. his heart stopped.
“(Y/n) I can’t accept these, these meant the world to you I-”
“Spencer please, I’d rather you have daddy’s stuff than any of those other brats,” she sneered. “It’s the only other thing I got from him when he passed. He would’ve liked you,” she smiled and pulled a bunch of pearl snaps out. Spencer's heart leapt. We slid the Carhart on, it sat nicely against his body. She looked up from the boxes.
“Whoa” she gasped. “Spencer you look, just wow” she grinned.
“Wait I have one more thing,” she rushed off to the back of the attic. She returned with a box wrapped in red wrapping paper she smiled and handed it to him. He pulled the top of the box off. Inside sat a nice dark brown felt hat with a brown leather strap around it. It was adorned with a small gun charm on the leather strap.
“(Y/n) this is, this is way too much,” he looked up at her.
“I bought it for you last year, I remember you saying you wanted to be a cowboy so I figured I’d buy it but I forgot it last time so there,” she beamed at him.
“Well, try it on,” she ushered He set the hat on his head, a perfect fit.
“Well?” he spun
“You look like a true cowboy Spence,”
They walked the property talking for hours. The air grew cold and bit at their cheeks.
“Hey do you want to see my favorite spot?” she asked
“Of course,” he grinned. They walked out into the woods behind the house before coming to a clearing. The sun was beginning to set. The mountains had a purple haze but the sky was bright blue. Golden streaks danced across the clouds. The clearing was full of dry grass and thistles that would become tumbleweeds when it got windy.
“(Y/n) this is amazing,” he breathed the fresh mountain air.
“This is my favorite part of being home, the Rocky Mountain Skies. They seem to dance with color. I forget how pretty they are when I leave,” she smiled and watched the clouds float by.
“Why did you leave?” Spencer asked. He turned to look at the girl next to him. She looked small in her coat and her hair was messy from the light wind.
“After my dad died. My mom got with my Stepdouch a month later, the will had been “lost” the will that would have granted my this ranch. The only reason I got it was Papa and grandma claimed they needed a place to live so I mean it’s theirs. My mom got mad because she wanted to sell it. and my cousin Rita wanted all of my dads horses, thousands of dollars worth of horses that she and my mom fought over and split the money on. That wasn’t dads vision, they never cared about this place. Mom moved us into town, So when I turned 18 I left,” she shrugged.
“I’m so sorry (Y/n)” he hugged her.
“It’s okay. So why did you want to be a cowboy?” She teased.
“Well I mean every little boy wants to be a cowboy, I wanted to catch the outlaws, or maybe be them I’m not sure,” he laughed.
“(Y/N), SPENCER, DINNER!” Dawn yelled to them.
“Race you there” she smacked his chest and took off.
“No fair!” he called after her.
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A Thousand Songs (Atem/Yami x Reader)
Chapter One: We Are Broken
One /// Two /// Three /// Four /// [Five Coming Soon]
Summary: You knew that you and your band could make it big. Not only that, but stay together while doing it; the five of you were family, after all. The only problem was that despite all your musical talents...none of you were particularly good at lyrics. After years of struggling to put out your first full album, the solution finally made himself know in chance meeting on an empty stage.
Rock Band AU, Atem x Reader, gender neutral reader.
A.N. Woo look at me, starting a new series before I finish my current ones. Don't hate me I have the attention span of a squirrel! I know band AUs are pretty cheesy but I don't care, this idea has been floating in my head for awhile and it's super cute okay?? I was also going to wait to post this until all the chapters were done but I couldn't control myself anymore. These chapters will be much shorter than my usual length so hopefully that means I can update faster??? I won't make any promises but I'll try. Anywho, I hope you guys like fashionable, sensitive Atem because that's who'll be featured in this fic <3 The reader's gender is never mentioned but I will admit I tended to lean more towards songs sung by women in this, I don't really think that matters though (I have Atem sing songs originally sung by women so...). I really hope you guys like this series and I'll love to hear your thoughts <3 Also: @ohyema This is the series I told you about all that time ago lol
I am outside
And I've been waiting for the sun
With my wide eyes
I've seen worlds that don't belong
My mouth is dry
With words I cannot verbalize
Tell me why
We live like this
The crowd was small, as always, but it was enough. Anyone hearing your songs was enough for now, or so you told yourself week after week. You felt Yugi’s eyes on you as you leaned away from the mic, plucking the cords of your Stratocaster for the brief solo and you looked to your left to see him smiling at you; always the positive optimist, the sun that shone on you and the rest of the band.
You flashed him the briefest smile in return before turning back to the mic. If you closed your eyes, got lost in Anzu’s keys, Jou’s steady beats, and Honda’s strings, you could almost pretend you were playing in front of a packed venue. One full of fans solely there to hear music, and not just a dozen or so patrons who enjoyed the music as a backdrop to their late-night drinks.
Keep me safe inside
Your arms like towers
Tower over me
You could have sworn you heard another voice in the crowd join yours as the chorus came. Ah, so there was an actual fan in the crowd.
Cause we are broken
What must we do to restore
Our innocence
And all the promise we adored?
Give us life again
Cause we just wanna be whole
Your eyes fluttered back open for the briefest second and through the smoky haze in the room, you saw that someone at the bar was holding up their phone, camera aimed at the stage. That managed to make you smile, at least you had someone’s attention.
Lock the doors
Cause I'd like to capture this voice
It came to me tonight
So everyone will have a choice
And under red lights
I'll show myself it wasn't forged
We're at war
We live like this
“Are you guys on SoundCloud or anything? Cos that was pretty awesome!” asked a young man who looked barely old enough to be in the bar at all.
You were just helping Yugi pack away his turntables, having finished your set and wishing the small crowd a good night. The young man was with two others, all of them looking enthused as they stood at the base of the small stage. The girl even giggled when Honda winked at her.
Yugi, as usual, was the one to speak up and pulled out a small leather folder from his back pocket. “Yeah, we are actually! We also have a youtube channel,” he pulled cards from the folder, black cardstock with your band’s name, logo, and media accounts scrawled across it in gold text. He handed one to each in the trio, smile still bright on his face, “Check us out if you get the chance, we’re trying to put out a new album this summer, so we should have plenty of new songs to listen to soon.”
With a few ‘cool man’s and ‘awesome’s, the trio wandered back to the bar, the one who had spoken already pulling out his phone with the card in hand, and the girl waving at Honda over her shoulder.
“You know you shouldn’t get their hopes up,” Anzu whispered as she set her keyboard case at the foot of the stage, “Two songs does not an Album make- we have no clue when we’ll actually have it out!”
“Well,” you chimed in, clicking one of Yugi’s several cases closed, “Maybe telling new fans to expect more from us will finally light a fire under our song-writing-asses.” When Jonouchi opened his mouth, that cheeky look on his face, you held up your hand to silence him, “And yes, I know I procrastinate too much, I’m to blame too.”
Yugi lifted two of his cases- and answered after Jou jumped in to take the heavier of the two, “I still think all of us should take a week's vacation, lock ourselves in our studio and work on the album together. Only getting together a few times a week is what’s really killing us I think- we can’t get into a creative groove!”
You and Anzu exchanged a look, knowing full well that neither of your bills would appreciate the week's loss in pay. Still, maybe it was something that you guys could find a way to work out. Then again, there was another idea that had been brewing in the back of your mind for a while now, and you weren’t sure if it was really something that the others in your band would go for...like, at all.
“I don’t know, a week probably wouldn’t even be long enough,” Honda chimed in after slinging his guitar case over his shoulder, grabbing an amp in the free hand.
Jou nodded as you all started filing out the bar’s back door, “I’m still thinking that gettin’ together every single night until the album’s done is the best way to go, even if it’s just for a few hours!”
This was the usual road the song writing debate took, or at least, how it usually went the past month or so, and soon enough the topic came to a standstill, as it usually did.
After loading up Jonouchi’s truck with your equipment, Honda gave the suggestion of stopping for some burgers at the 24 hour joint down the road, a common ritual after your monthly gig at “The Bandit’s Den”. As usual, Jou parked in the space best visible from the front windows of the dinner, and the five of you were glad to find that not another soul sat at the tables.
After settling at your usual booth and ordering, Yugi actually splayed his hands out on the table, looking rather determined. “You don’t start work until seven tomorrow. Right?” he asked you.
“Yeah?”
“I think we should take another trip to the station.”
You actually had to repress a sigh at that. Yugi was all about trying to trigger inspiration for songs, and the “station” referred to an old train station on the outskirts of town. You guys had discovered it long ago and were eager to use it in a music video, but were waiting for the perfect song to go with it. Sure, the old giant clock and brick stairs were a perfect setting, but it had only sparked a line or two of lyrics, nothing to make a full song.
Out of the five of you, most of the lyric writing fell on your’s and Yugi’s shoulders, with Anzu, Honda, and Jonouchi giving occasional input. Since you were the lead singer most seemed to think you would be the natural lyric maker, but the truth was that, despite your talent in singing and playing the lead guitar, lyrics just weren’t your forte. You’d had some luck when teaming up with Yugi, his emotional maturity helping you work through the written expressions, but that only went so far. Yugi also tried things like this, exercises and field trips in the hopes that it would spark creativity.
“How many times have we been to the station before, Yugi?” you asked, “I just don’t think it’s the oracle of inspiration we all hoped it would be. I still want to film there some time, but I don’t wanna take time out to visit it again, I’ll just get annoyed when it doesn’t lead to anything.”
Yugi’s set expression seemed to blink away, replaced with something almost like guilt, “Okay, I was just trying to think of something to get our inspiration flowing…”
Now you’re the one who felt guilty. “I know...hey maybe we could try something new? Like we could go some other place or try some different way to spark our heads?” you suggested, trying to sound positive.
Yugi’s eyebrows lifted in interest, but he was cautious when he asked, “Like what?”
“I…” you trailed off when your mind came up blank. It remained blank even as your eyes trailed over the entirety of the empty dinner as well as the dark scenery outside. A growl of frustration left your throat as you face planted on the table, “I don’t know!”
You heard Yugi giggle as he reached out and patted your head. Beside him, Jonouchi said, “What you need is some brain food! That’s sure to help some ideas come- ah! And here’s our feast now!”
Even though the food was good, kick-start your brain, it did not. If anything the meal just made you more sleepy, even as you guys chatted over the next hour before paying the tab and piling back into Jou’s truck.
Like always the next stop was the studio, the home and hideaway for you and your friends. For a small-time band whose biggest fame was on Youtube, all of you were actually quite proud of your studio. Yugi’s grandfather owned a few rental properties, and since the building wasn’t fitting for a residential space, nor in a part of town that would serve a shop well, he had agreed to give you guys the small building in exchange for help around his game shop every week.
Working together to make the space your own was some of the best memories you had with your oldest friends; going to second-hand shops to gather fitting set pieces, saving up for the sound dampeners so you could record your songs without paying a big-time studio, setting up the back room with tattered old furniture and a mini-fridge that was sure to break down any day.
The only thing that beat those days were the times you actually spent in the studio; rehearsing, recording your few music videos, spending downtime together writing new music on lumpy bean bag chairs and worn rugs (and definitely getting distracted by each other every ten minutes).
The night was late enough that no one bothered the five of you as you unloaded the truck, and soon enough all of you were taking your usual spots in the back room (Anzu sprawling out on the battered chaise, Jonouchi and Yugi filling up the loveseat, Honda falling onto a pair of beanbags, and you plopping down in the hammock chair).
“Alright you guys, I’m just going to come out and say it,” Anzu sighed after a few moments of hanging off the arm of her seat, “We need help writing our songs.”
You actually sat up as straight as you could in your chair and peered over at her- had she really just said what you had been thinking of saying for weeks?!
When she saw your look, something like panic colored her face as she waved her hands, “Not that I don’t think you’re a good writer! The songs you came up with were awesome! ...But-”
You waved off her concern, the hard motion causing your hammock to spin a little, “No- no, Anzu, I totally agree! I just didn’t know if I should bring it up...”
Even if you hadn’t thought of it too, Anzu had plenty of reason to think you needed help. In the whole four years since your group had started the band, from the first days sitting in class drawing up logo ideas, you had only written six original songs- and that included the two that were meant to go on your new album. You had gotten by with relying on covers to fill out your live sets and media accounts and making a host of excuses for the lack of originality.
“You really think bringing in another bandmate’s a good idea?” Honda chimed in, eyes narrow as he leaned back in his beanbag chair.
“Yeah, we don’t wanna end up like half the other bands out there,” Jonouchi chimed in, seeming to subconsciously pull Yugi closer to his side, “you guys know the only reason our band works is because we get each other- we’re family! We can’t just bring another person into that, it’ll ruin it and maybe even break us up!”
Yugi put a hand over Jonouchi’s, “Hey hey, slow down, don’t you think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves? First of all, bands hire ghostwriters all the time, and they don’t always join the band. Besides... I don’t know, if the person’s really cool, would it be that bad to have another member?”
“We could always have them ghostwrite for us for a while, and if we like them, then talk about letting them join,” you offered, and were glad when everyone seemed to contemplate that with at least some positivity. “But that brings up the issue I think we’ll have, I’m not sure we can find someone who fits with our style all that easily. Like Jonouchi said, there’s a reason all of us work well together.”
It was true, all of you brought something to the table, something more than an instrument. The five of you had slightly different tastes, all of it coming together in something that wasn’t quite punk, not quite rock, not quite pop or even metal, and that’s what worked to your advantage. You wanted to prove that different sounds and styles could come together in harmony and appeal to listeners all across the spectrum. Not fit into a genre-labeled box that only fans of said genre would even bother listening to.
Eventually, Anzu gave a shrug, “We won’t know until we try. Why don’t we put the word out and see what happens?”
“We can still work on our own, and if we don’t find anyone who fits, we didn’t really lose anything besides time,” Yugi added, and that pretty much settled the matter.
Tomorrow the search for a new member of your team began.
#atem x reader#yami x reader#yugioh#yugioh x reader#Atem#yami yugi#series: a thousand songs#band AU#Yugioh Band AU#violinist atem
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Inspired by THIS little ask! You guys wanted some sex on Steve’s desk, you get some sex on Steve’s desk. Ask and you shall receive ;)
Warning: ...smut (with a little bit of plot); 18+ only! also SOFT!Javi! So enjoy :)
Word Count: 4k
Pairing: Javier Pena x Reader
MASTERLIST
PS - extra points to anyone who knows where the whole sex on the desk and co-worker finding out scenario is from!
»»————- ♡ ————-««
“Javi,” you moaned into his mouth as his large came down to your ass and give it a firm squeeze. You broke your kiss with him, and grabbed his forearms, pulling his hands off of you. He smirked at you, earning even stronger glare at you sighed at him.
“Baby-”
“No,” you held up your finger, raising your eyebrow as you pressed it against his lips. Javi, naturally took this opportunity to press a quick kiss to your finger, his mustache tickling you. Rolling your eyes at his childishness, you leaned against your desk and tried to give him a glare. It didn’t work terribly; it was hard to stay mad at the innocent face he was pulling, “Javier Peña, you’re going to be the death of me.”
“Don’t worry,” he joked, coming closer and wrapping his arms around you, despite your lack of response, giving the crown of your head a small kiss, “the only way you’ll end up dead on my account is if you’ve died and gone to heaven-”
“Javier-”
“Because I’ve made you cum too many times-”
“JAVI!” you groaned at him and pushed him away, hiding your face behind your hands. He threw his head back with laughter, clearly amused at the situation and your reaction before going back to his desk across from yours, “you’re going to get us found out. And then I’ll kick your ass.”
“No one knows, baby, and no one will find out unless we choose to tell them,” he promised, giving you that stupid, goofy little smile of his. You rolled your eyes at him, but couldn’t help the smile that crossed your own features. It was a moment in which you realized just how much you loved him; which was, of course, more than life itself. Who would have thought? A few years ago, hell probably even a few months ago, you never thought this would ever happen. But here you were, completely and truly in love with Javi. Almost as if he could read your mind, he silently mouthed at you, “I love you.”
You stuck out your tongue at him, but not before repeating the sentiment to him as well. You were about to say something else, but you were quickly interrupted by Steve murmuring under his breath as he walked into the office, a cup of the pathetic excuse for coffee in his hand. You exchanged a look with Javi, who just shrugged his shoulders.
“Good morning, Steve,” you walked over to him, grabbing the coffee from him and setting on the desk before giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze, “what’s wrong? You’re usually the only cheery thing in the entire building this time of day.”
“Nothing,” he sighed as he slinked into this seat, rubbing at his tired face, “just up late last night with Olivia, Con needed some rest, so I took over. And the ambassador decided to take it upon herself to personally chew me out for our lack of progress the last couple of months. All in all it’s been a great morning - and we’re still stuck with this shitty coffee. I asked ages for at least a decent coffee maker.”
“Hey,” you sat at the edge his desk, doing your best to give him a small smile, “it’s going to be okay. It’s just one of those days, but we’ll get through it. We always do, right? Javi?”
“Always,” he agreed, standing up and reaching for his jacket, “but for now, how about we all get out of here and get some decent fucking coffee? At least it’ll get us out of here for a while.”
“Deal,” you and Steve chorused before following suit and grabbing your things and heading out. You weren’t particularly motivated to work that day, and the idea of getting out of the quiet and tense atmosphere of the embassy sounded like the best option.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
About halfway through coffee, which had turned into a breakfast consisting of several courses between the three of you, spirits were running much higher. It might have been due to the delicious food you were consuming, the shit talking, or the several rounds of mimosas. It was probably a combination of the three. You’d all been tenses and stressed for weeks, and it turned out that this was something you all desperately needed.
You were situated in a booth of aging leather, equally between Javi and Steve, mostly sitting back and listening to the rapport between the two men, and knocking back more than a fair share of alcohol. At one point, you’d even sneaked Javi’s glass, but it seemed lost to the men as they were heavily engaged in their little conversation. You didn’t even really know what they were talking about, but you knew it wasn’t work related; they were too happy for that.
But at some point, Javi’s hand found its way onto your thigh, toying with the hem of the dress you were wearing. It had been a warm morning and you’d decided to wear a dress for once, instead of a skirt or suit. At first you didn’t think anything of it, but eventually his large hand pushed your dress up higher and higher, until his fingers were grazing the bare skin near the apex of your thighs. Your eyes widened as you came to your senses and realized what was going. Glancing at Javi, you could see a smirk placing on the bastard’s features; Steve hadn’t noticed anything out of place.
“Javi,” you said quietly as fingers moved to push your panties to the side. He turned to you with an innocent smile, one eyebrow raised as he waited for you to go. Steve also turned to look at you, and you felt your entire being flush with warmth. Trailing his fingers through your heat and gathering up some of the slickness, he pretended to wait for you to go on. Just as you opened your mouth to say something else, he ever so lightly brushed your clit, and it took every ounce of strength within you not to moan out loud.
“Everything okay?” Steve seemed mildly concerned as he noticed you struggling, your chest starting to rise and fall in a more rapid manner, “Y/N?”
“Fine,” you managed to get out, giving him a smile you hoped was natural. Steve seemed satisfied enough and turned back to Javi, picking up their conversation as if Javi didn’t have his fingers in your aching center.
You shot a warning glance at him, but he either didn’t notice or pretended not to. Instead, he continued on, teasing your clit lightly, just enough to start the tingling in your bones as the familiar tightening in your belly increased. At one point, you reached down and grabbed his hand to try and get him to stop; here you were in the middle of a small diner, about to orgasm due to your boyfriend’s incessant ministrations. What a morning.
He obliged for a moment, resting his hand on thigh and and trailing his fingers over the soft skin, which caused you to clench your legs to together. You weren’t sure how much longer you were going to to be able to take. Maybe you could quickly dash into the bathroom and finish yourself off? Yes. That seemed like a plausible idea, but as you moved to get up, Javi’s hand firmly held you in place. He turned to give a stern look, which turned you on more than anything. So you obliged, and remained rooted in your seat, wondering if he would finish the job himself then.
It took a few minutes before he carried on, his large hands spreading your legs apart and going back to your aching core. He took a few moments before to touch you gently, almost too tender, before slipping a fingers inside of you. You were so wet, you could definitely hear it, and you were surprised Steve didn’t; Javi kept an expert poker face. If Steve heard or noticed anything out of place, he offered no indication of it. But just as Javi started to pumped his thick fingers more rapidly, he used the pad of his thumb to rub your clit. The sensation surprised you, and you inadvertently slammed your hand on the table, gathering a few concerned glances. You coughed awkwardly and grabbed your napkin, covering your mouth to hide the little whimpers that spilled past your lips.
Javi was pleased, beyond pleased with himself as he carried on like nothing had happened. When you were close, you automatically started to lightly rock your hips to meet his pace, a sense of exhilaration flooding through your veins at both the pleasure you were experiencing and the sheer audacity of the act in such a public place.
He gave you a slight nod when he felt your walls start to clench around his fingers, as if telling it was okay to cum. You squeezed the edge of the table so firmly that your knuckles were turning white as he drew out your orgasm, slowly guiding you through it. Only when you had stopped writhing in your seat and he was satisfied that you were finished did he remove his hand from center. Steve excused himself to go to the bathroom and once he was out of view, Javi brought his hand to mouth and cleaned his cum coated fingers clean, learning a look of both admiration and annoyance from you.
“How was everything?” your waitress came back to start gathering your dirty dishes, a wide smile on her face.
“Delicious,” he responded with a wicked smile, “simply delicious.”
»»————- ♡ ————-««
You’d remained silent as Steve and Javi paid for brunch, and the three of you made the dreaded trudge back to the office. You’d been unmotivated already, and now, in your slightly buzzed state, coming down from your high, you really didn’t want to do anything else. What you really wanted to do was just head out for the day and bring Javi home with you, but that clearly wasn’t an option.
“What’s wrong?” he had the nerve to ask as you sat down at your desk and reached for your trust water bottle, downing it in one ago. You set the glass bottle back on your desk, eyes looked onto his, staring him down. Steve was off doing Lord knows what, leaving you the two of you alone, “baby, you’re breaking my heart, looking at me with those eyes.”
“Javier,” you adopted a serious tone as you stood, straightening to your full height as you sauntered over to him. He leaned back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head, licking his lips at the sight of you trying to be domineering, “what the hell was that? You’ve got some nerve doing that! In public, where anyone could have seen! Do you ever think about the consequences?”
“I didn’t hear you complaining,” he wasn’t phased by your little tirade in the slightest, “the only sounds I heard was how wet-”
“Javi,” you sighed as you rubbed your temples, “what the hell was I supposed to say? In front of Steve? Javi, please get your fingers out of me and stop trying to make me cum? I don’t think so, asshole!”
“Mi amor-”
“No!” you hissed at him, narrowing your eyes, “you don’t get to use Spanish to try and get out of this one. Just because you think you’re so sexy and-”
“Hermosa-”
“No!”
“Novia-”
“Stop,” you leaned over and grabbed his jaw with your hand, forcing him to look into your eyes. Gods, he had the sweetest eyes, so warm and deep; it made it hard to focus on the fact that you were annoyed with him. Unable to stop yourself, you gave him a soft kiss, letting your lips linger on his, still tasting the sweet champagne from brunch.
“I thought you were mad at me,” he teased against, smiling against your lips.
“I am, buddy, trust me,” you reminded him, “and this discussion isn’t over-”
“Guys, I think-” Steve had chosen the perfect moment to walk back into the small, shared space. He was looked right at the two of you, still in the compromising position: you leaned over Javi’s desk, his face in your hands, “what’s going on...is everything alright?”
“Yeah,” you quickly snapped out of it and pulled back, dusting your hands off on your dress, as if you were trying to get rid of any evidence of what had just happened, “this one just couldn’t understand what I was saying. I was just trying to make sure he finally understood.”
“Loud and clear, Agent L/N,” he shot you and Steve a dazzling grin as you swallowed the lump in your throat, moving back to your desk. It was so tensely quiet the only sound in the room was the click of your heels on the linoleum floor.
“What’s wrong, Steve?” you pulled a stack of papers closer to you, looking at him with a saccharine expression on your face. He may not have known exactly what was going on, but he knew it was something.
“Nothing,” you could easily hear the hint of skepticism in his voice as he looked between the two of you several times, head moving back and forth as though he was watching a tennis back, “is there...something going on with the two of you?”
“No,” you and Javier spat out the word at the same, causing you to groan internally. That certainly wouldn’t deter any attention.
“Javi’s just a being a stubborn fool,” you shot the dark haired man a firm glare so he wouldn’t say anything else, “sometimes you just need to tough with him to get him to understand what you’re staying. But you would know that better than anyone else, Murph.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, nodding lightly as he started to look for papers on his desk. Your heart that had been rattling around in your chest slowly eased up when you realized he wouldn’t push the issue right now, “well, I guess we should get to work.”
»»————- ♡ ————-««
The end of the day finally approached and you were more than ready to leave for the day and unwind at home. Quickly throwing your things in your bag, you set it on your desk as you went to the coat rack near Steve’s desk to grab your jacket. Steve, whether tired or just weirded out from the day, had already left a few minutes prior, leaving just you and Javi remaining. You hadn’t said another word to him all afternoon, instead offering him a very obvious silent treatment.
He quickly and silently made his way to your side, putting his hands on your waist as you tensed up in surprise. You sighed lightly, both in pleasure at the feel of his large hands on your body and in annoyance, but it didn’t deter him from starting to pepper kisses all over your neck and the exposed parts of your shoulder.
“Javier,” you said as firmly as you could, as he pulled you tightly against his body, an arm wrapping around your stomach and on hand slowly roaming up to your breasts. You had to bite back a moan as you manage to hiss, “anyone can walk in and see-”
“Let them,” he growled in your ear, setting a flame off in the pit of your belly, “let them see me fuck you senseless.”
“Javi,” he told the opportunity to flip you around and set you on Steve’s desk, knocking a few things out of place. You could see that his normally honeyed eyes were dark with lust, along with the straining that you spied happening in his pants. You put your hand in the center of his chest in a vain attempt to stop him and try to collect yourself, “we shouldn’t do this.”
“I know,” he agreed and the two of you exchanged a look, and a few moments of silence passed between the two of you. Before any other words were exchanged, he crashed his lips onto yours, his deft hands immediately moving to start undo the buttons of your dress, He kissed along your neck and jaw, nipping at the delicate flesh, making sure there would be bruises for you to find tomorrow. Normally you’d chide him, or make him stop, but today you didn’t bother, “you expect me to keep my hands off of you when you come in looking like that? God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”
He pulled down the straps of your dress and swiftly undid your bra, effortlessly tossing it to the side as his mouth found your breasts. You already were lost for words, unable to get anything coherent out, wrapping your arms around his neck, threading a hand through his dark locks as you held him against your chest.
He sucked on the delicate skin of your breast before taking your pert nipple into his mouth, his hand massaging your other breast, pinching and rolling your nipple, causing shivers of pleasure to run through your body.
“Jesus,” you managed to moan out as you started to subconsciously rocked your hips against him. You could tell your panties were already soaked, and you probably would cum easily once he moved to touch you. He smirked at you before trailing kisses up your chest and stopping at your smirked, “you’re wearing too much clothing.”
He let out a velvety laugh as you reached to start to undo his button up, getting frustrated with the few bottom buttons and resorted to ripping the shirt open and he tugged off it off, “eager, are we?”
“Shut up,” you teased as your wrapped him towards you, wrapping your arms around him, his warm, bare chest against your. You always relished the feel of his skin on your skin; it was such an intimate, special thing, and he felt like no other. Javi kissed you, slowly, deeply, but with hunger as he took his time with you, holding you closely against him. Every once in a while, soft little mewls left your lips and you could feel him smiling against you, “I love you, Javi.”
“I love you too, hermosa,” he agreed, stopping his actions and just hugging you, his arms around you like a vice grip as you buried your face into the crook of his neck. You loved this - loved him and it always felt like home when he held you like this. It was different from how he’s ever held anyone else before; no, this was all for you. He was all yours as you were all his.
“Javi,” you whispered against his skin, trailing a few kisses along his neck, “make love to me, please.”
He murmured a soft reassurance into your ear before kissing the side of your head. He pulled back and you undid the button and fly of his trousers, letting them pool onto the floor before doing the same to his boxers.
Pushing your dress up to your waist, he gently pulled off your panties and let them fall to the floor. He took a few moments to trail soft kisses along your thighs before giving your lips a few pecks. He took his hard cock and ran it along your folds for a moment, coating it in your slickness before pushing in slowly. You moaned at the delicious of him feeling you so completely, stretching you in the most perfect way.
Javi let out a soft moan when he was fully inside you, getting adjusted to how perfect you left. He wrapped his arms around you as you stayed like that, completely still for a few moments, only exchanging a few kisses. You sighed contently as he slowly started to move. Sometimes when you had sex, it was rough and fast, both of you only chasing your highs. Sometimes it was like this; soft and gentle, and slow. You didn’t have a preference of either, typically, but right now, this felt perfect in every way.
“You’re so perfect,” he whispered in your ear, as he thrust into at a languid place, taking his sweet time with your body and placing gentle kisses all over your skin, “and so beautiful. Everything.”
“Javi,” you breathed softly as your arms wrapped around his neck. He reached down and gently rubbed your clit, keeping perfect time with his strokes. You bit down lightly on his shoulder into our to keep from crying out in pleasure, but only a small Javi left your lips, causing him to smile.
The buildup was slow, but you soon found yourself coming completely undone, body going weak as your vision started to get hazy. Javi pulled back and rested his forehead against yours, his eyes locked onto you and a lazy smile on hips, “let go, mi amor, cum for me.”
You closed your eyes, biting down on your bottom lip as you felt him twitch inside of you, “cum with me, Javi. Cum inside me.”
He groaned lightly at your nods, but was more than happy to oblige you, rutting his hips into you a few more times before spilling inside of you as your clenched around him. Throwing your head back in ecstasy, his name fell off your lips over and over like a prayer. He quickly followed, burrowing his face into your neck as he drew our your highs, staying burrowed inside you as long as possible.
“I love you, mi amor,” he whispered in your ear as your breathing started to even out, “you’re so perfect in every way.”
“You’re just saying that because I let you cum inside me,” you joked as you put your hands on either side of his face, running a finger along his cheekbone before giving his nose a kiss.
“I mean it doesn’t hurt,” he agreed with a wink, still holding tightly onto you, fingers ghosting over the the bare skin of your back, “but it’s most because I love you. Truly. You know that, right?”
“Yeah,” you agreed, “I know. I’ve know that since the night you showed up on my doorstep when you were supposed to be meeting with an informant. You can to me instead and said nothing is right when it’s not you. That’s when I knew.”
“I remember that night,” his grin threatened to split his face in half as he nuzzled his nose against yours, “it was the first night we stayed together after having sex.”
“I know,” you laughed lightly, “when did you first realize I loved you?”
“When you yelled at me any time something happened or went wrong,” he explained, “whenever I’d do anything even remotely risky, or get even a scratch, you’d yell at me and tell me to be careful. It would be something so small that it didn’t even really matter, but you would get so upset. That’s how I knew.”
“We’re just saps, aren’t we?” you asked as he nodded, “but I’m glad for that. For you. There’s no one else I’d rather love or be loved by, Javier Pena.”
“Agree,” he booped the tip of your nose gently before grabbing your hand and placing a kiss to your palm, “now let’s go home. We can stop and grab some food-”
“And wine?”
“Obviously,” he smiled as he finally, slowly pulled out of you, reaching into Steve’s desk and grabbing a few napkins from Steve’s stash to clean you up. You both stopped for a moment before laughing, “do you think he’ll notice?”
“Not a chance,” you said as you slid off the desk and started to do up your dress again, “we’ll just make sure to put everything back. He’ll never know.”
»»————- ♡ ————-««
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The Love Cruise - by GleefullyCaptainSwan
Read on AO3: Chapter 1
Or on FF
Tagging: @kmomof4 @lfh1226-linda @teamhook
Summary:
When Emma Swan’s boss & co-workers decided they are tired of waiting for her to start dating again, they reluctantly convince her to join them on The Love Cruise, a new experience where singles go to meet and flirt their cares away in the middle of the ocean. Dragging her brother, David along for the ride, she embarked on a two-week adventure that was about to change her life.
Killian Jones, former Navy Lieutenant and widower, swore off dating for the rest of his life. Which is why when his best friend Robin convinced him to take a job as the Captain of the newest ship in the fleet, a floating dating cesspool of horny men and women, it seemed a cruel twist of fate. Little did he know, one of the guests about to board his ship, would alter his own course in life forever.
Chapter 1: The Adventure of a Lifetime
“First he runs off and gets married and then he goes and gets himself a promotion. I guess you would say the world is his oyster.”
“Or he’s having his cake and eating it to.” The man at the back of the bar shouts.
“Aye, so today as we celebrate, I want everyone to raise your glass to our newest Lieutenant, and my little brother, Killian Jones. I’m so proud of you.”
“To Killian Jones.” The crowd roared.
5 years later
“That’s not how I remember it at all, I’m pretty sure you were the one who walked in on them.”
“I would have remembered that.”
“I doubt that, you were drunk as a skunk and before you left the room, you yelled to the poor girl, and I quote, I'm no weatherman but I know you're going to get 3 inches tonight.”
“God, I thought you said that.”
“That was all you man, I thought the Captain was gonna throw you in the brig.”
“I’m pretty sure Liam saved my ass that night.” Killian laughed, remembering how many times his brother kept him out of trouble in his years in the Navy.
“I think Liam saved your ass most nights.”
“Aye.” He nodded sadly and Robin held up his glass.
“To Liam, gone too soon.”
“To Liam.” He swallowed the warm liquid, gulping it down and putting his glass back on the table in front of him. “I can’t believe it’s been two years.” He added solemnly, memories of his brother’s urn as he was released out to sea, being presented with the flag, the sound of each pop of the as the rifles went off, staring out to sea to the sound of the bugle.
“Sometimes it feels like yesterday.” Robin responded and Killian closed his eyes, pinched his nose, before shaking off the memories and waiving the waitress over for another order. “So, what’s your next move?”
Killian sighed. “I don’t know yet, I’ve got a few interviews this week.”
Robin cut him off, “Cancel them.”
“I’m sorry, you want me to cancel all my interviews?”
“Yes, cancel them, I have a great opportunity for both of us.”
“Working together?”
“Yes, I told you that I got a job last week, right? Well, they need a Captain and I put in a good word for you.” Killian knew he had gotten some amazing opportunity the last time they spoke on the phone, but he didn’t provide many details on what exactly that opportunity was.
“What’s the catch?” Killian regarded him suspiciously.
“Why does there have to be a catch?” He smiled innocently.
“Because you would have told me about it sooner unless you’ve been trying to figure out the best way to bring it up. And you conveniently chose a night when we have been drinking heavily, so that tells me there is a catch, Rob. So, spit it out.”
“Ok, so there’s a catch, but hear me out first.” Killian groaned but put his hand to his lips with a locking motion and gestured for him to continue. “She’s the newest ship in the fleet, top of the line technology, she would be any Captain’s wet dream to sail.” Killian chuckled, sitting up on his stool. “3600 passengers, 1300 crew members, including the best purser any ship could ask for.” He grinned widely pointing to himself.
“Get to the part where you tell me this ship sails to the Underworld and has an excursion to visit Hades himself or some other ungodly reason to explain why you waited til I was piss drunk to ask me.”
“Ok, but I haven’t even told you about the size of the Captain’s quarters yet…” Robin frowned as he shifted impatiently in his seat. “Alright, it’s the maiden voyage of…” He covered his mouth, “The wurv ruse.”
“I’m sorry what?”
“Fine, it’s a Love Cruise.” He shouted louder than he meant to. “One of those singles cruises where people go to meet each other.”
He tossed a brochure down onto the table and Killian flipped through it, his groan vibrating as he read the tag line out loud. “The Love Cruise, where singles meet on the adventure of a lifetime. Don’t you deserve a little TLC.” He tossed the brochure onto the table. “Oh, bloody hell.” He cursed. “Ma’am…” He gestured for the waitress. “I’m not fucking drunk enough to listen to this man anymore, if you could please bring a few more of those shots as quick as possible and make them doubles.” He added before turning back to Robin. “Are you out of your mind? What would give you the foggiest reason to think I would be interested in this?”
“It’s not like you would be signing up to be part of the singles cruise, you would just Captain her.”
“Why are you doing this?” He asked suspiciously. “You and Marian have been divorced for years and it’s not like you’re desperate for women.” His friend glanced to the table and Killian knew there was more he wasn’t telling him. “Out with it.”
“You know that woman I met last year?”
Killian chuckled, “How long do I have to answer, mate. You’re going to have to be more specific than that?”
“You’re hilarious. No, remember that entertainer I met when we took that cruise to Mexico last year, Regina Mills.”
“The lass we met who threw her drink in your face and told you to get lost? How can I forget, she’s given me months of pleasure just thinking about that moment.”
“Anyway, they hired her as the Cruise Director for this sailing, and it’s my opportunity to actually get to know her. You know because she won’t have anywhere else to go to continue avoiding me.”
“So, your selling point is that if I Captain this ship, I might get to see this woman destroy you on a daily basis?”
“Would it convince you to say yes?”
“I don’t know.”
“Killian it’s been three years. If you want to be celibate for the rest of your life, that’s your business, but you’d be an idiot to pass up this opportunity.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his jacket and slid it across the table. On it was a six-figure dollar amount, Killian grabbed the paper and pulled it closer to his face.
“How many years is the contract for this amount?”
“That’s per year, Killian.”
“Bloody hell.”
“It’s a lot more than the Navy paid us, and no one is going to be trying to sink our ship.”
He pushed the paper back across the table to Robin. “I just don’t know if this is a good idea, I have responsibilities here.”
“Brother, Milah wouldn’t want you hiding out on that damn houseboat, rotting away in your own depression. She’d kick you in the ass and tell you that you were being a bloody prat for walking away from this kind of opportunity.”
“Don’t invoke my dead wife, Mate.” He said angrily. Robin raised his hands in defeat and Killian knew he meant no harm. He sighed and looked over at the paper again. It was more money than he had seen in his entire life, and it was a real ship. He’d been working as Skipper on a fishing skiff for the last year, and while he enjoyed the security of being out on the water, it sure didn’t pay much.
“You know there’s no rule that says the Captain has to date the passengers, in fact, I’m pretty sure they frown on that type of behavior?”
“I get that, but I don’t particularly want to watch all the debauchery either.”
“I told you the Captain’s quarters are huge, right?”
“And they know about my hand?” He looked down at his scarred hand, he had lost the full use of it on one of the worst nights of his life, the night he lost his brother.
“They don’t care, you are a skilled Captain, trust me, they are very interested in you, Killian. All you have to do is be at the interview tomorrow, and the job is yours.”
Killian groaned, “I’ll sleep on it.” Judging by the smile his friend was displaying on the other end of the table, he already knew that Killian was going to show up to that interview.
~*~
“Have you seen that guy before?” Ruby walked over to Emma’s spot by the front door.
Emma glanced to the end of the bar. She hadn’t noticed the man until Ruby pointed him out. He wasn’t familiar to her, he was very nice looking, but also very intoxicated. “Don’t recognize him, but Will needs to cut him off.”
“That’s what you’re focused on, instead of how hot he is or the fact he’s new in town?”
“He’s ok, I guess. But honestly, I’m going to go tell Will to stop serving him. I don’t want to have to throw him out later.”
“Boo, you’re so boring, Emma.”
Emma turned and flashed her friend the middle finger before approaching the bar. “Hey, brown suede jacket.” She pointed to the man at the end of the bar. “How many has he had?”
“Oi, I was thinking of cutting him off. He’s been nursing that beer for an hour, but the three shots he drank with them seem to have accelerated his inebriation.”
“Yeah, cut him off, he’s swaying in his seat, let me know if he gives you any trouble.”
Emma walked back toward the door, surveying the tables as she walked past. She’d been working at The Wooden Nickle since moving back to Boston from New York almost seven years ago. Working nights as a bouncer wasn’t the most prestigious job in the world, but it allowed her to spend her days with her 6-year-old son, Henry.
“Everything good down here?”
Emma turned to see her boss; August Booth walking down the stairs from the above office. “Yeah, got a live one at the bar, Will’s already cut him off. I had to break up the two over at the pool table a few times.” She gestured to the man and woman currently making out against the wall. “I’m gonna head back there in a minute, before they start losing clothes.”
“I can always count on you, Emma.” August gave her a light tap on the shoulder and then headed back upstairs. “Tell everyone I want to talk to them before we shut down tonight.”
“Everything alright, boss?” He nodded with a mischievous smile and then bounded up the stairs.
She loved working for August. When she moved back to Boston, she hadn’t maintained a relationship with anyone except her brother, David, and her high school friends, Ruby and Will. Moving to a small town meant her skills as a bail bond agent wasn’t exactly needed, but August found room for her as a bouncer at his tiny but very busy bar. He’d treated her like family ever since.
She passed through the room, pausing at the couple in the back, to break up their make out session and then stopped at the bar. “Aug wants to talk to all of us after we close up.”
“Oi, did he seem upset? Shit, I bet he knows I was nipping at the whiskey last week.”
“What are we talking about?” Ruby approached and sat down her tray on the bar top. “Are we drinking whiskey?”
Emma laughed. “Aug wants to talk to all of us tonight, so I would probably say no, right?”
“That was a question, not a demand, so I say one shot can’t hurt us. If we’re all about to be canned, I want to take the news with some liquid courage.”
“You’ll use any excuse to drink whiskey.” Ruby mocked as he lined up the shots and poured. They each tossed back the glass and slammed it down on the bar.
“Ok get back to work.” She demanded with a smirk and headed back to the door to prepare for the close of shift. It was her favorite part of work, watching as the patrons exited the bar, some joyfully laughing, others grumbling with complaints of the upcoming next day, but mostly it was the time when they were alone, simply cleaning the bar and laughing together that she cherished the most. This was her family, and she loved them dearly.
“All clear.” She hollered an hour later as she finished helping the tipsy customer to a cab and reminded the overly zealous couple to remember condoms.
Ruby turned up the volume on the music and they spent the next hour cleaning the bar, Ruby dancing with her broomstick, Will singing loudly into the beer tap, and Emma watching them all with a smile as she wiped down the tables. She could hardly believe how much her life had changed in the last seven years. Ruby referred to these last few years as the years AN.
After Neal.
She had been devastated when Neal took off, draining their savings account of the money she had earned, leaving her alone and pregnant in New York City. Two months later, she came home with her tail between her legs, everything she owned in her tiny yellow beetle, and was left to explain to her brother David, that things with her and Neal had gone exactly how he had predicted they would.
She had been mortified to venture out of the home she shared with David for fear of judgement from their small town. Instead, she was embraced by old friends who came out of the woodwork to donate baby clothes, feed her, and offer emotional support.
“When did I start paying you lot to have a good time?” August boomed from across the room before breaking out into a smile and pulling Emma into his arms to dance across the room. He spun her around as they reached Ruby, switching to dance with the brunette until the song ended.
“The place looks great as usual.” He remarked to the three of them as he hopped onto one of the bar stools. “Come on, lets all chat.” Will gulped and August laughed. “This isn’t about the whiskey, Will.”
“What whiskey?” Will mimed. “I haven’t the foggiest idea…”
“I’m closing the bar.” Emma’s heart dropped. August sat solemnly looking down at his hands. He looked up peering around the room as a smile grew on his mouth. “For two weeks,” he added, “and before you all freak out on me, I’m still paying you.”
Emma breathed out a sigh of relief. Losing two weeks of pay would have killed her. She lived paycheck to paycheck trying to raise her son, missing a single day was enough to give her anxiety.
“On one condition.” He added and everyone in the group exchanged cautious glances. “We’ve all been working really hard and I wouldn’t have any of this if you all didn’t come to work every single day, even with William drinking my whiskey.” Will ducked his head. “However as much as I love you guys, I’m really tired of being alone.”
Emma was surprised to hear how sad August’s voice sounded; she knew he had been alone at home after his father Marco had passed. Emma had never heard of August going on any dates, or ever being involved with anyone romantically. But Emma wasn’t one to talk about putting yourself out there, she hadn’t dated or wanted to date anyone since Neal ran out on her.
“And let’s be honest,” August continued, “you lot don’t get out much either.”
“Hey, I’m just waiting until Ana comes around.” Will argued and she snorted to herself. Ana was Will’s ex-girlfriend. She had packed up and left town a year ago, leaving only a note stating it was over and she was moving to England with a guy she met online. Everyone knew it was over, except for Will. He still had his Facebook relationship status as “It’s complicated.”
“She’s gone man, it’s time to move on.” August said seriously. “And Ruby, I mean no offense when I say this, but you’ve practically dated everyone in town, present company excluded.”
“Speak for yourself, we went on a date once.” Will announced.
“That was a field trip you idiot, and the rest of the school was with us.”
“Ok but my point is, no one in town has been worthy of your affection.” August interrupted and then turned to her, “And Emma.”
“Don’t even go there, I have a six-year-old kid, I don’t have time for another child in my life.”
“Well, here it is, I’m going on a cruise for two weeks. And I’m willing to pay you each your two-week salary, as long as you come with me.”
“Oi, do you think you pay us enough money to afford to go on some fancy cruise ship?”
“Nope, that’s why I’m paying for that too.” He stared at Emma. “But it has to be all or nothing. Either you all come, or you all get a two-week unpaid vacation.”
“That’s hardly fair.” Emma complained. “I can’t just walk away for two weeks, Henry needs me.”
“First off, I already know that he’s about to head to summer camp for four weeks, so your excuse doesn’t exactly work.” Emma crossed her arms against her chest, she hadn’t expected him to know about that. “Ok, one excuse down, who’s next?”
“You aren’t going to get one from me. If you want to pay me to go on a cruise, I’m down.” Ruby hopped up on the bar.
“What’s the catch, Mate? Two weeks pay, a cruise vacation, something’s not adding up here.” Emma had to agree with Will, he wasn’t telling them the entire truth.
“Fine, it’s a singles cruise.”
“No way, I’m out.” Emma grunted, as she furiously wiped down the table in front of her for the second time that evening.
“Oh, come on Emma, who cares? There is nothing that says you have to hook up with anyone there.” Ruby pleaded, “I really want to try out my new bikini I bought last week. It would look so much better on a cruise ship than it would on our stupid beach.”
“I can’t go on a single’s cruise, I’m not single.” Will argued.
“She dumped you.” The three of them all shouted in unison.
“Come on you guys, we can all be there together, and just have fun.” Ruby continued to plead her case.
“Did I mention the alcohol is all paid for up front?” August announced with a wink.
“Bloody hell, I’m in.”
Suddenly all eyes were on here. “Please Emma.” Ruby whined.
“Free Alcohol, lass. We can just sit at the damn bar and drink all day. I’ll be your date.” Will flirted from the back of the bar.
“Brining a date would defeat the singles part, don’t you think?”
“Emma, you’re out of excuses.” August shrugged.
“Fine. But I have one condition.” She said angrily, coming up with a fool proof plan to get out of going. “If I’m going to be forced to go on this trip, then I’m not going without David.”
August laughed and surprisingly shook his head. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
Dammit.
#TLC#The love cruise#stacy's fics#my fic#captainswan#captain swan#captain swan au#captain swan fics#captain swan modern au#emma x killian#killian jones#emma x hook#emma swan
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CRANES IN THE SKY | C. Jackson
Requested: Nope! I saw a fluff prompt that sounded great for Chris so this is what I came up with! Prompt — “Stop moving and let me braid your hair.”
WARNINGS: mentions of mental illness, sadness, depression, and “curse words”
YOU were going through it. Life was just becoming a lot for your teenage self and it seemed like this week would never end. It partly felt like everyone was out to get you but you were really just having a bad week and in the back of your mind, you hoped that the next would be better...yet you didn’t even want to think that far ahead. As of a few hours ago you were allowing your self to sit in your funk of your Crenshaw home until Chris barged in making himself at home.
Working in retail felt emotionally and mentally abusive but hey, you needed money to get by right? You were tempted to quit after a month of being there but your mother persuaded you to toughen it out and not let them get to you. ‘Or maybe it was easier for her to say so, so that you wouldn’t be coming to her as much for some cash.’ You bitterly thought.
On top of that, you were getting hours in over time since there were three situations going on with your co-workers. One: was fired due to stealing money from the safe in the stock room, since one of the assistant managers didn’t fully close it, two: got arrested for god knows what— you didn’t care for the drama but it was common knowledge Julio’s ass was gone, and third: got injured on the job and would be out for 6 months. So the work load fell on the remaining three. Only 6 employees in retail...make it make sense. Not only that the customers were more whiny and quick to point the finger than usual and it takes a lot for you to step out of character! but you did.
You had it. So you went into a screaming match, which wasn’t expected of you but it happened. The store manager did not have your back and blamed you in front of the customer since, “the customer is always right,” motto was heavily encouraged and a part of you HOPED he was just doing that for show and would apologize later but nope! He stood by wtf he said and put you on punishment when it was clear that the customer was not right.
So instead of sending you home and keeping you away from the place? He decided to give you more hours as if you’re the only one working there + kept you off the register so you could only interact with those on the floor. If he expected you to come in for five days straight while being a high school student? He was out of his damn mind. So you called out the three of the five days you were supposed to be there and didn’t care for his guilt trips. You deserved better and didn’t need to deal with this bs for only $11.11 an hour. You hoped he fired you.
Since you were working so much prior to the screaming match with that aggy customer, you were falling behind on your studies. Those pop quizzes came back as c+ to c- and your exams? Even lower. You were turning in homework half assed or not turning it in at all and normally you were a decent student with a B average. You weren’t overly thrilled about school but you did your best and did just fine at that.
You never saw yourself as someone who would go to college. Your mom or your step-dad didnt go and it was expected that you wouldn’t because of your background. Wasn’t that a shame? Crenshaw high could do a lot better at getting kids prepared for bettering their futures but they just wouldn’t put the time in to kids that wanted it or could accomplish it if they just had the right guidance.
It was really depressing and it was all starting to sink in at the end of your junior year of high school. You couldn’t just give up but you were having one of those days and wanted to be left alone. Which was partly what you had in your condominium complex with your step-sibs staying behind to attend after school activities with you having to pick them up from the bus stop by 5:15, your mother was working the night shift as a waitress, and your step-dad was away on “business.”
The quiet was interrupted by Chris making his way into your living room with you all curled up. He took one look at you and shook his head, “Nuh-uh, get up ya ass up, girl. You’ve been like this for what? Days now?”
Giving him the side eye, you rolled your body on the couch to put your back to him as you went to bury your head into the open s peace between the couch and cushion. “If you came here to start with me, you can leave the same way you came in.”
You were used to Chris getting into your house. You did lock your doors around here but Chris was surprisingly good at getting through things which related a lot to his life I guess you could say. The guy overcame a lot especially learning how to walk again after almost being paralyzed. You and Chris grew up together, and were actually friends first before Spencer, Coop, and Shawn came into the picture. Your mother’s were the best of friends and got pregnant around the same time, with Chris being only a few months older than you, which he likes to rub in to get on your nerves.
“And you can keep that stank ass attitude to yourself, get up mama this ain’t no way to be.” You could feel the weight of Chris sitting on the couch behind you.
He was now poking you, probably trying to find your ticklish spot but if you start swinging then you’re the bad guy right?
Chris knew you like the back of his hand and vice versa. He knew all about how your week was going and how you’ve been skipping class to do whatever it is that you do, since you did have one class together.
“Alright look, when I was away—
He always considered his recovery as, “away,” almost as if it pained him to say that, which you understood by all means, but Chris could just call it what it was. He was strong, he made it through but you noticed in the way he played now was more cautious. He was in his head which was common with sports injuries apparently. You noticed with Spencer he would normally react after the stress of the game or something that brought on the stress. He also probably thought you had no clue what was going on with him, but he was also one of your besties so of course you knew. You just never said anything.
Now it was you who was going through a little something and needed someone to bring you out of it, whether you said it or not. And here Chris was. As always.
“You know I was a completely different person—
“Yeah, you were a fresh asshole.” You commented, remembering those moments quite clearly since it was you and Olivia who tried to be there. He only seemed to let you be there, especially after he broke up with Olivia over text. Which you laid into his ass about.
Which made Chris breathe out a laugh pressing his elbows into his knees, “you’re not wrong. And I’m forever sorry about that but you knew I was going through some dark shit. And I can see you’re partly there but you don’t need to sit in it.”
“Okay, Iyanla. What would you like for me to do?” You asked twisting your body to the side to finally look at the mocha skinned boy.
Chris smiled with his pretty teeth, “maybe take a shower? ‘Cause this bum energy I’m getting from you right now is not cute and I know underneath all that, you’re not half bad.”
A foot went out to kick him pretty hard but he tried and failed to doge it with a laugh. “Nah. But for real though, you got to find something that’s gonna keep you sane. Find something even if it’s not permanent that’ll keep your mind active and out of the dark, cause once you completely slip into it, it’s hard to get out of. Trust me.”
You knew Chris was on anti-depressants for a little while and how he called you flipping out that his mother even agreed that it would be a good idea. In the black community it was not a common thing to speak about your mental health, it was non-existent and you were expected to “get over it,” to not think like that because we are made to be tougher than what we are and it shouldn’t be like that. We should be able to feel our emotions and admit when something is troubling us.
And Chris’ mother thought that was what was best for her son. And you saw how vile of a person Chris became when he thought everything was over for him. That was not the Chris Jackson you knew, he was headstrong, compassionate when he wanted to be, and ambitious. So to see him like that was hard.
So here he was for you even though your emotions right now probably wasn’t that deep but again, you were trying to be more in touch with your emotions. Both of the adults in your life were slightly cold so it rubbed off on you a little bit of course, until it was brought out of you. Your father was the most loving and as a kid you used to be that way, with a warm prescence and a belly full of laughter. Now you were full of small smiles and cold stares.
However your main friends: Chris, Spencer, Coop, and even Shawn know/knew who you are even if you’re different now.
You don’t know how long you sat in silence but once Chris started to annoyingly snap his fingers in front of your face, You snapped out of it and smacked his hand down; slowly you sat up on your uncomfortable couch and took a deep inhale.
Then you moved through the cramped apartment to your bedroom and bathroom grabbing a few things. When you came back Chris was also entering from the kitchen with two plastic cups, eyeing the items in your hand. “What’s going on with that?”
You plopped the large pillow in front of the couch, held your hand out for the cup which Chris handed over, and you took a large gulp to taste cran-peach. Chris moved to place his own cup on the coaster and went over to the window to crank up the A/C before he glanced back over at you still awaiting a answer.
“You’re telling me to find my peace? I’ve always wanted to be a stylist, so I’m going to perfect my craft.” You answered sitting on the couch with a crack of your neck.
Chris thought this over and blew out a raspberry. Then he moved to sit in between your legs on the floor, “Alright, y/n. I’ll be your first client. But I’m tellin’ you right now if you braid too tight where my edges look eaten, I’m out the door.”
A smile graced your lips as Chris grabbed his cup and remote to turn the tv on, “so what we watching to keep me entertained?”
Shrugging your shoulders you held the rat tail comb in your hand while using the other to run your fingers through Chris’ coarse hair that he was deciding to grow out. Chris got himself comfortable resting against your legs as you decided which side of the head you wanted to start on first before you began parting and sectioning off his hair.
You were going to give him some cornrows so you had to make sure everything was even and not look crazy. You were decent at braiding, you often did your step-sis’ hair since your mother no longer had time to do it and she sure did have a lot of hair. It gave you some sense of satisfaction, you taking on the older sibling role and gave you the time to bond.
Chris finally found something after twenty minutes and was yelling at the tv which made you mess up the grip on the fourth row. “If you don’t stop moving and let me braid your hair...hold your head right or I’m gonna pop you!” You threatened.
“This is triggering me back to my aunties, specifically aunt Henrietta’s ol’ mean ass.” Chris mumbled the last bit as he flinched making you laugh a little bit, remembering the name and the picture of the woman with the large mole on her pointy chin.
She lived in Maryland and had a beauty salon that Chris’ mom would always take a trip down there to get their hair done, if they had a special event to go to. It didn’t make sense to you or your mother since there were a few good shops here in Crenshaw or rather—girls and boys that did hair out of their homes around but Mrs. Jackson wanted to support her great aunt so by all means...
You gripped his hair again tight but not too tight to begin the braid, “I’m gonna add beads so everyone around school can call you hurricane chris.”
“...that’s real foul. You’re about to make me not support your dreams anymore, I’m dead serious.” Chris replied making you laugh, which made him smile at the sound.
You briefly glanced up to watch a scene on whatever show or film Chris was watching and raised your eyebrow not knowing what was going on or who these characters were but it was definitely engaging.
Chris nudged your knee with his shoulder after you fell silent again, “feel better?” He asked, moving AGAIN to meet your eyes.
“yeah, a little. Thanks.” You scrunched up your nose and stuck your tongue at him.
After awhile your alarm went off letting you know it was time for you to leave and get ready to get the kiddos. As you both got up, Chris went to the mirror to check out your handiwork while you snapped a few pictures before making your way to the door, taking the keys from the side table as you went.
“Y/N...you said would make me look good.”
“Uh huh?”
“Then tell me why...the hell you got me looking like ODB?” Chris’ deep set brows held a deep frown on them as he glanced at his childhood friend who innocently peered back at him.
You shrugged as you threw the door open, “i never said I’d be the best hair stylist out there, plus you wouldnt stop moving your big ass head. I told you to sit still! And did you listen? Noooooo.”
Chris licked his lips looking down as he folded his hands together before his eyes flicked up, “ok. I’m on your ass!”
You yelped as dashed out the door, laughter in your lungs as Chris chased you down the narrow hallway, hot on your trail.
#all american#all american x reader#chris jackson#Spencer Moore ii#Chris Jackson x reader#Chris x Olivia#spencer james#tamia cooper#all american cw
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Full Sabacc | A Din Djarin x Reader Fic
Gif: @bestintheparsec
Pairing: Din Djarin/ The Mandalorian x Reader (no y/n)
Word Count: 4.0k
Rating: E | Warnings: NSFW - explicit smut, dirty talk, mild cursing. 18+ only.
A/N: A game of sabacc turns into soft, steamy, sexy fun with Din Djarin. This is basically one long self-indulgent strip tease. Forgive me, but it’s my birthday and I wanted to treat y’all to something fun 🖤Enjoy!
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... . ...
Full Sabacc
Din’s gaze was momentarily transfixed on the blur of starlight curving around the transparisteel window as the Razor Crest tore through hyperspace. It’d been a long day and he was tired, but he couldn’t rest. Not yet. Adrenaline still coursed through his veins from the day’s action, making him restless. He’d finally tracked down the last bounty of the three pucks Karga had given him a few weeks prior. He had to put fuel in the Crest somehow, and this was the best way he knew how, despite other matters that needed his attention. Thankfully, the Trandoshan was in carbonite, though not for lack of a fight, and the autopilot was set for Nevarro.
He’d been cycling through starmaps, looking for the smallest hint of a lead as to where he might continue searching for his foundling’s people, but had allowed the blue streaks of hyperspace to distract him from his seemingly futile task. Instead he was thinking of the little foundling, sleeping soundly in his carrier down in the hull, and, in spite of his best efforts, you.
He’d brought you on as crew to help with bounties and keep the ship flying almost a year ago. He needed to focus more on finding the mysterious Jedi and after watching you fight off a couple of thugs who’d mistakenly thought you’d be an easy target, he figured you’d do, at least temporarily. You were strong and capable, and he’d needed the help, but you’d surprised him when you fell in love with the kid and took on Din’s burdens as your own, steadfastly determined to help him in any way you could. A temporary agreement quickly became permanent, and the past few months of crisscrossing the Outer Rim with you and the baby had brought Din a strange but not unwelcome sense of contentment. Something he’d never had as far as he could remember in his adult life.
You quietly reentered the cockpit, having previously left to check on the sleeping toddler and search for food, and reclaimed your seat next to him.
“How much longer?” you asked with a sigh.
“About fifteen minutes less than the last time you asked,” he retorted.
The three of you had spent the majority of the past week within the confines of the Crest, with only brief respites outside the ship when you made planetfall to track a bounty or hurriedly pick up supplies. His most recent jobs had taken you to planets that were less than hospitable, not that you seemed to mind that fact. You were feisty, a bit rough around the edges, and could handle yourself in dangerous situations. Still, he was sympathetic to your frustration. Even the kid was growing restless.
For a moment, he let his mind wander again as he contemplated the starlight before him. He let himself entertain the idea of taking you and his foundling somewhere nice for a few days. He imagined the two of you happy and free somewhere warm with a bright sun shining down on rolling green fields and a sparkling lake far from the chaos that plagued the rest of the galaxy, that seemed intent to follow him everywhere.
With a few swift movements, he double-checked the autopilot and turned to face you, wanting to voice his newfound desire, but the words died on his tongue. He had no idea how to suggest something like that to you. You were just supposed to be his working partner, his friend at best. It didn’t matter if he was starting to consider you so much more than that.
Instead, he said nothing, his head dropping to the stack of cards you shuffled idly in your hands.
“I know how we can pass the time,” you suggested, following his gaze. “It’ll be more fun than staring into hyperspace all night.”
“I don’t do that.”
“You do, but it’s okay. It’s endearing, Mando,” you said with a light laugh. Before he had time to process what your words, you leaned towards him in your seat, a mischievous smirk playing at the corners of your lips. “Do you know how to play sabacc?”
“I’ve been in enough cantinas to know how to play sabacc,” he answered dryly. “I just choose not to.”
You slump back in your seat. “You don’t like playing?” you asked, looking down at the cards, toying with an already bent corner on one, and sounding rather defeated. He was surprised – usually you’d put up more of a fight.
“Never interested me.”
“I know how we can make it interesting.” Your eyes met his again with a newfound blaze. That was the spark he’d been looking for, but he knew instantly that he was going to regret it.
“You’re not suggesting what I think you are,” he deadpanned, his voice even and modulated. Underneath, he felt differently. You gave him a short, playful nod as if hoping to encourage him, beaming at him from across the cockpit, and he felt his resolve crumble. Even if you didn’t realize it, that smile could get him to do anything.
You took his silence as an opening to convince him, and to your credit, it was a fair argument.
“C’mon, what’ve you got to lose? I’m in a tunic, trousers, and a jacket. You’re wearing full body armor and 5,000 layers, Mandalorian.”
You pronounced his title as if daring him to agree.
Din was never one to resist a challenge.
… . …
As it turned out, you were pretty good at sabacc.
Damn good.
That was fast becoming a problem for Din Djarin.
He had yet another shitty hand of cards. At best, he had 18 points. If he played what he currently held in his now ungloved hands, you’d probably beat him. If he drew another card, he’d almost certainly bomb out and you’d still beat him. Again.
At that point, he was down to his helmet and base layers. He’d lost every other piece of Beskar along with his gloves, boots, belt and holsters, cape and outer coverings. You’d seen him in various stages of undress before – not only do you share rather close living quarters but you’d patched up his more serious injuries on a number of occasions – however, this was easily the least amount of clothing he’d ever worn in front of you, even if he was still essentially covered from head to toe.
Of course, you were still wearing almost everything you’d had on at the start of the game. Only your boots and jacket were missing. Hell, you still had your socks. You grinned wickedly at him from your perch on the co-pilot’s seat and he knew you had another good hand. He’d suspect you of cheating somehow, but he’d been watching you closely, and, to be quite honest, he knew you better than that.
You showed him your cards and he groaned.
Pretty soon he’d be in nothing but his gods-forsaken helmet. Not that he hadn’t imagined that exact scenario before – although this definitely was not the time nor place to entertain those kinds of thoughts. Not when he felt so exposed.
Din wasn’t sure how he let this game get away from him. He���d completely lost control of the situation, and he wasn’t getting much in return.
Except that he was, in a way. He supposed he’d let this happen. Din could’ve tapped out of the game at any point and you would’ve obliged him. But it was sort of…exciting. He got to choose what to reveal to you, what part of him to bare next, all under the guise of a game. There was no pressure, no expectations, and he reveled in the way you carefully appraised him every time another layer was removed.
You quirked a brow at him, still waiting for him to indulge you for your latest victory. He shucked off his last protective layer, leaving him in nothing but his trousers and undershirt, and it was easily the least dressed he’d ever been around anyone. Even when he had participated in brief sexual encounters in the past, he’d never removed so much as a piece of Beskar. Yet there he was sitting in front of you wearing next to nothing and he wasn’t entirely uncomfortable.
No, he liked the look in your eyes as you took in his form, finally seeing the outline of a human body beneath the armor. He probably liked it too much.
Until you met his eyes behind the visor again and he saw a glimmer of uncertainty cloud your lusty gaze that looked entirely foreign on you.
“We should stop,” you said, breaking the silence.
“Why stop now? You’ve been kicking my ass so far.”
You considered his words, chewing on your bottom lip in a way he found much too enticing.
“Deal,” he commanded and for some reason you listened. You hardly ever listened to him without at least some snarky comment. He examined his cards and stifled a sigh. He made his best play, anticipating another loss.
You revealed your cards and – he won.
You bombed out on the next round and lost the one after that, playing a meager 15 points worth of cards. Consequently, you’ve lost both of your socks and your thigh holster and the two of you are suddenly on much more even footing.
You dealt another round without so much as looking at him and he couldn’t help but notice the tension in your movement, in your whole body.
He won that round too, but he was studying you closely now. You were lying to him; that wasn’t your best play.
“Bout time you won a few rounds” you said, having noticed him watching you. He heard the hesitation in your voice where no one else would’ve noticed it.
You shifted in your seat and your hands moved to the hem of your tunic. For a brief moment your eyes flick up to meet his just as you're about to lift the garment up and off your body. Acting on reflex, he grabbed your wrist to stop you.
“I want to see the rest of your cards first,” he demanded.
“Okay, you’re definitely the only man in the galaxy to ever say that after winning a round of strip sabacc,” you said rolling your eyes.
He released you from his grip and reached for your unused cards. This time you tried to stop him, but he was stronger than you and broke free easily, still always careful not to hurt you. A quick glance at your cards told him you had a better hand.
A much better hand.
Full sabacc.
You weren’t so stupid that you couldn’t count to 23. You’d lost on purpose.
“Why did you do that?” he asked accusingly.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you deflected weakly and started to gather up the strewn about cards, no longer meeting his stare.
But he wasn’t going to let this go. “You’re the most competitive person I know. Why’d you lose on purpose? I don’t understand,” he prompted, seeking some sort of explanation.
“Because I-” You stumbled over your words uncharacteristically, “I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
His head tilted to one side, a silent plea for clarification that he knew you’d understand.
“Look, I honestly didn’t expect you to be that terrible at sabacc. No offense,” you said with an apologetic look. “I didn’t think I’d get you down to next to nothing that fast. Not with how much you wear – which is a little ridiculous by the way. Also, no offense.” He rolled his eyes at you behind the helmet and somehow you sensed that too, offering him a small huff of a laugh and the ghost of a smile. “I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable” you repeated after a moment, and your care for him made him bold.
“I hate sabacc. I’m fucking horrible at it,” he started, “But I liked losing to you.”
Your eyes locked onto his behind the visor, your lips parting slightly at his words. “Really?” you asked with more than a hint of disbelief.
He hummed noncommittally and then let his helmet tilt downwards a bit more obviously than normal as his gaze trailed over your body. You seemed to come alive under his stare, body arching toward him and the unsteady rise and fall of your chest quickening.
“I liked winning,” you said, grinning at him.
“I know you did. But you still owe me something.”
You rose from your seat and closed the distance between the two of you, standing in between Din’s parted legs with a steading hand on his shoulder. He looked up at you from behind the visor, waiting for you to make your next move.
“You did win the last round,” you said, pretending to consider his suggestion as you took one of his hands in your own and brought it to the hem of your tunic. “Maybe you could help me.”
He didn’t win the last round, not even close. You’d had a full sabacc and yet here you were offering yourself to him as a reward.
Din stood to his full height, practically chest to chest with you, and tentatively lifted your tunic, slowly revealing the smooth skin of your stomach, the soft curves of your hips, the gentle slopes of your shoulders. Only a thin breast band remained to protect your modesty, though it did little to hide the swell of your breasts or your peaked nipples from him. He dropped your shirt onto the pile of long forgotten clothing items that seemed to be growing by the minute. He let his fingers skirt over your sides as he brought his hands back down to settle on your hips, suddenly overcome with the need to hold you in place. He was just barely touching you, but the feel of your skin burned through him, emanating from his fingertips and settling deep in his belly.
But what was he supposed to do now?
You’d always flirted with him much more boldly than he did with you, and he’d assumed that was just part of your personality. You were naturally confident and more than a little coquettish. When he did dare to flirt back, he always took his cues from you. He also stuck to easy truths: your effortless fighting technique, the practiced way you cleaned a blaster, your sharp wit and cunning mind. And even though you couldn’t see past his dark visor, you always caught him staring at you. Always offered a shy, knowing smile in response while never expecting much of anything from him in return.
But now you were staring up at him eagerly.
This was already the most intimate situation he’d ever been in – sexual or otherwise. Never before in his somewhat limited experience, had it ever felt like this before. The air between you was charged, practically volatile, and it felt like it would implode at any minute.
“Your move, Mando,” you prompted, your voice barely more than a whisper.
He let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding. Even now you were letting him dictate the terms, still making sure he felt comfortable, and your encouragement was all he needed. “Turn around. Close your eyes.”
As soon as you did what he told you, he disengaged the locking mechanism on his helmet. Quickly slipping off his undershirt, he replaced his helmet before reaching out to you again. You let him turn you around with a light touch ghosting over your shoulder.
“You can look.”
Your eyes fluttered open and darted across his body. Instinctively, your hand stretched out towards his bare torso, retracting hesitantly halfway before he took the initiative. Taking your hand in his, he planted your palm to his chest, his own resting firmly over yours. The tightness in his chest dissipated under your touch, aided by the soft smile gracing your lips. Until you glanced up at him and thought he saw a hint of sadness cross your face. There was one layer that couldn’t come off.
Not yet.
He filed that thought away for later. He could only process so much in one night.
“I can’t-”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. This is more than enough. I promise.” You smiled again and he tried to believe you. He tried not to dwell on it as you leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his chest. His heart threatened to beat out of his ribs, and he was sure you could feel it. “Is this okay?”
“Yes,” he choked out and you kissed him again, lower this time as your focus shifted to the button of his trousers.
“And this?” You asked looking up at him with dark, shining eyes. He nodded and you pushed his pants down his legs, bending to help him step out of them. As you stood to your full height again, your fingertips brushed lightly against his calves and thighs, scorching his skin and sending a shock of arousal to his already throbbing erection. You noticed his hardness, hardly concealed by his briefs, as you moved up his body.
“Aren’t you glad I suggested sabacc?” you asked coyly.
He wished you could see the smile behind his helmet. “Yeah, but I think you’re a little overdressed.”
“Care to help me?” You wrapped your hands around his and brought them to your chest, encouraging him to palm your still covered breasts. He enthusiastically helped you remove the offending article, tossing it carelessly aside, and his hands wandered lower, taking your trousers off as well as your panties in one quick movement.
“Hey!” you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck to balance yourself. “That’s cheating.”
“You cheated first,” he answered with a laugh of his own. He held you to him, delighting in the sensation of your skin, the feeling of your body pressed flush against his. Determined to touch every inch of your body, his hands moved on their own accord, dropping to knead the pliant muscle of your backside.
“I knew you were staring at my ass all this time,” you teased, trailing your hands down to the waistband of his briefs.
“I was hoping you hadn’t noticed.” He supposed there were some things the helmet couldn’t hide. His fingers slid past the swell of your ass cheeks, dipping into the wetness he found at the apex of your thighs.
“Oh,” you moaned breathily, “I’m not complaining.” Your hand slipped into his briefs and freed his cock, pumping it experimentally.
“Fuck,” he cursed. You’d hardly done anything, and he was already faltering on the edge. Except that wasn’t quite true. You’d seen, touched, and explored more of his body than anyone ever before. It was all so much and yet he wanted so much more. He wanted you, only you, and he wanted to give himself over to you completely. But for now, your lips kissing and sucking on his pulse point on his exposed neck brought him back to the present moment. Back to the fact that if you kept stroking him the way you were, with just enough pressure on the base of his cock and a teasing swirl across the head, this would be over before it really started. “Fuck, I’m not gonna-”
“Me either. Take these off, please” you begged, tugging at his briefs. “Need you now, Mando.”
He discarded the last layer of clothing separating the two of you and you walked him backwards, pushing him down when the backs of his knees hit the captain’s chair so that you could climb onto his lap, straddling his hips. With a gentle hand on your lower back, he pulled you closer, guiding you as you sank down on his cock. Your pussy wrapped around him perfectly, enveloping him with your velvety walls.
“You feel so good. I didn’t know this could feel so good,” he said, the vocoder unable to mask the arousal in his voice. Something in the warm smile you gave him told him that you knew he was mumbling on about more than the exquisite clench of your cunt around him, that he actually meant that being with you, having you in his life, felt so good.
“I know. You make me feel good too. So fucking good.” You sighed as you slowly started to move up and down his length, taking him a bit further every time you lowered yourself, “Just- just tell me what you need. Wanna make you feel so- so good, Mando.”
“More,” he responded without clarifying. It didn’t matter �� you already knew what he needed. You quickened your pace and all he could do was sit there and watch; he needed to commit this – the blissed-out look on your face, the bounce of your pert tits, the slick coating your thighs and dripping down his cock – to memory. Just in case.
A particularly heady mewl fell from your lips and he snapped back into the moment, realizing he was getting lost in his own thoughts when all he really wanted to do was make you feel just as good. Wrapping an arm around you tightly, he pulled you against his chest. He wanted your flushed body against his; he didn’t want any space between the two of you. With his other hand, he swiped his thumb against your clit, eliciting a wanton moan from you that went straight to his cock.
“You like that?” he asked through gritted teeth, teasing you.
“Fuck! Gods, yes, Mando,” you panted, nails digging into the skin on his shoulders, “Please don’t stop.”
“Don’t worry, cyar’ika. I’ve got you. Always gonna take care of you.” He tightened the circles he was drawing around your sensitive bud and held you steady as he thrusted upwards when you stilled above him.
“I’m gonna- Fuck, Mando, I’m gonna-” You gasped for breath, unable to even finish your sentence.
“I know. Can feel it. So fucking tight around me. You feel so good.”
He started pounding into you, pulling you down hard on his cock, and you shattered around him, practically convulsing in his arms as he fucked you through your orgasm. When you finally slumped against him, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and buried your face in his neck, holding on as if your life depended on it. You kissed his sweat-slicked skin, murmuring meaningless obscenities as you came down from your high.
“Mando,” you uttered breathlessly, “Cum for me.”
Your gentle demand pushed him over the edge and into the abyss. With a few more errant thrusts, he found the release he so desperately needed, filling you with his seed. A warm, sated feeling washed over him and he let his eyes fall shut behind the visor as he struggled to catch his breath. He didn’t dare move, and neither did you. The two of you clung to each other in the afterglow, letting the stolen moment stretch on for as long as possible.
“Why didn’t we do that sooner?” you asked, finally breaking the silence.
“I don’t know,” he replied, half truthfully. You both knew what had kept you from seeking each other out for so long. He absentmindedly started rubbing a soothing hand along your back, tracing every vertebra and sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine.
“Well, I definitely should’ve broken out the sabacc cards a long time ago.” He felt you smile against his neck and a breathy laugh escaped him. “But more importantly, when can we do it again?”
“Give me a minute, cyar’ika,” he chastised playfully, feeling the quiet laughter that shook your body more than he heard it. “But that reminds me,” Din started slowly, “Have you ever been to Dantooine?”
... . ...
Thanks for reading!
#the mandalorian smut#the mandalorian x reader#din djarin x reader#din djarin smut#din djarin x you#the mandalorian x you#my writing#my fic#fic: full sabacc
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Lobby Hero
Summary: When your creepy ex turns up at an event you are attending with your friend you stay for as long as you can, before calling an Uber to escape your ex. Thankfully the Uber driver is happy to play along and save you from the unwanted advances of your ex, being your hero in the hotel lobby.
Pairing: Colin Shea x Female Reader
Warnings: None apart from a slightly creepy ex, and a bit of smooching. Fluff with Meet-cute.
I do not operate a tag list, but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, you’ll get alerted each time i post.
I no longer have a masterlist due to having over 150 fiics, instead you can find everything on AO3 with the LINK HERE.
A/N: I changed this to Colin Shea (Chris’s character in What’s Your Number) as it was getting too close to real-person fiction if i left it as Chris. Plus Colin is an utter charmer and ladies man and i can so see him playing along with this situation.
Lobby Hero
Smoothing your dress down you smiled at your reflection in the ladies room mirror. It was the first time you’d been ‘out-out’ in months, your friend having convinced you to be her plus one for a work thing at a swanky hotel, and with an evening of entertainment and free drinks on the cards you were quite pleased with how you’d polished up for the night after hanging around at home after your split from your ex. Your dress that you’d ordered from Wish had turned out to be exactly like the photo, and you couldn’t help but to feel like a princess in it.
Back to your ex; Most people were surprised when the two of you had split up, but they didn’t know how weird your ex had gotten, the snide comments about your weight, how he treated you as ‘the woman at home’ even when you also had a full time career. When the gaslighting had started you’d picked him up on it immediately and had kicked his ass out of your apartment, thankful that the two of you had never moved in together properly and promptly got the locks changed.
Emerging from the ladies room you saw your friend and waved, but paused when you saw the worried look on her face. She glanced across the room and you followed her gaze, your heart sinking when you saw him; your ex.
Frozen to the spot you didn’t realise your friend had moved until she linked an arm through yours;
“Are you ok with him here?”
“I… I guess… its a big room, maybe he won’t see me”
“If he does i’ll kick his ass for you”
Smiling at her you nodded, but you could feel your hands start to shake with nerves. The announcement that the guests should take their seats for dinner came over the PA system and the two of you made your way to the large ballroom, taking your seats as you fiddled with the beads on your dress. For now your ex was out of sight, and you felt a little of your nerves start to slip away… that was until you felt a hand on your shoulder, fingers dipping under the strap of your dress in a far too familiar way. Shrieking you suddenly stood and span around, eyes wide with fear when you saw your ex behind you, holding out his arms and leaning towards you;
“Honey…”
Suddenly an arm was thrust between you and gave him a hard thump across his chest, your friend stepping between the two of you;
“Buddy… go back to your seat…”
“Get out of my way bitch”
“Hey, she broke up with you, its over you psycho, fuck off… NOW”
Her voice got loud enough to draw the attention of a number of other guests, a couple of the men standing to see if they needed to come to your aid, but as your ex backed away and disappeared from the room, you let out a sigh of relief.
The rest of the meal went without a hitch, but as drinks were served for the Mayor’s speech you saw your ex standing at the corner of the room, eyes trained directly on you;
“Hey…” you leaned towards your friend as you quietly spoke; “I’m gonna call an Uber, he’s still over there and he’s giving me the creeps”
“No… don’t go, i’ll call security…”
“No, please, i just want to get away from him. And you know he’d just pull some strings and be allowed back in”
Nodding she wrapped her arm around your shoulder as you logged onto the app and requested an Uber, watching the little timer spin around until it came up with a confirmation that your ride was on its way;
Colin will pick you up in a Silver Prius’ and gave you the licence plate. You nervously watched the progress of the driver on the real-time map, and a few minutes later you had an alert to say he’d arrived outside. Glancing over the room you could see your ex was still standing in the corner, still staring at you, and when a message from the driver made your phone vibrate you almost dropped it;
“I’m outside the hotel. Did you need any help with luggage?”
Your fingers paused over the keyboard, before you took a deep breath and started to type;
“No luggage, but could you meet me in the lobby? My psycho Ex is here and i need to leave, and i need him to think i’m leaving with someone i know…”
As the message clicked to ‘read’ and then showed the driver was replying, you looked up and discovered your Ex was heading slowly towards you, weaving between tables. Grabbing your purse you turned towards the door behind you, walking as quickly as you could. Your phone vibrated with a new message;
‘In the Lobby. Red check shirt and ball cap. Next to the big light bubble thing’
You quickly typed a reply;
‘Long Black and pink sparkly dress, coming now. x’
Pulling your dress up so you could take bigger strides, you started to trot on your heels, the sound of dress shoes behind you making you go faster, and as you turned the corner to the Lobby and saw him.
Now your legs were carrying you faster, your heart skipping a beat as you called out his name, almost melting on the spot as he smiled and held his arms out for you;
“Babe… you look amazing!”
Without even thinking you ran into the arms of this stranger, shaking from fear and adrenaline as he held you to his chest;
“Shhh its ok…” he whispered to you; “Your ex, wouldn’t happen to be a weasly looking short dude in a green suit?”
“Yes, that’s him” you muttered quietly
You saw Colin glance up again before looking straight into your eyes as he spoke;
“You want a pretend friend or a pretend boyfriend”
“B-boyfriend?” you questioned, but your words were cut off by Colin’s lips on yours, and as he started to pull away you found yourself clinging to his shirt and pulling him back again. This time your mouth opened to his, his hand straying to your hip as his tongue danced against yours, holding you flush with his entire body before you finally parted, breathless with kiss bruised lips;
“Sorry… how about we get you home safe and well, huh?” Colin whispered, the two of you turning and started towards the doors, his arm around your shoulder when you suddenly heard your name called from close behind you. You knew it was your ex, but what you weren’t expecting was for Colin to suddenly turn, reaching out and grabbing your ex by the shirt and tie;
“Listen Buddy, she’s with me now, you come anywhere near her again and you will not live long enough to regret it, got it?”
“Y-y-yes Sir”
Letting go of him you both watched as your ex fell on his ass, Colin wrapping his arm around your waist as he steered you towards his ride. Opening the front passenger door for you, he stood like a gentleman as you sat and swung your legs in, carefully scooping the rest of your billowing dress into the car so it didn’t get shut in the door. Soon he was in the drivers seat and pulling away, the two of you sitting in silence as he quietly drove along the Boston streets.
As you waited at a set of red lights you finally both spoke simultaneously;
“Thank you…”
“I’m so sorry for kissing you…”
Looking surprised you finally let out a laugh;
“Would it be pathetic of me to say the kiss was actually the highlight of my evening?... and really, thank you for playing along, i know i’m a complete stranger, but i really REALLY appreciate it”
“Hey, in that case, it wasn’t a problem… at all. If you don’t mind me asking, your ex… he seemed a bit… stalkerish…”
“We broke up 6 months ago… it took me a year to realise he was an absolute shit. The way he treated me, the way he spoke down to me. I have always been completely happy with who i am and what i look like, but he made me feel like crap, telling me to loose weight, that i should change my hair, act like the good little wife… we weren’t even fucking married!” you info dumped on the poor driver as he slowly made his way towards the address saved on your account.
“Hey, it sounds like you made the right call then… cos’ just between you and me, you look fucking gorgeous”
Just at that point the onboard computer told him that you’d arrived at your destination, and you opened your purse to fish out your phone;
“I’m giving you a huge tip, you have literally been a life saver tonight….”
Colin gently clasped his hand over yours;
“You don’t need to do that…”
“Really, i insist”
“Well, how about you let me take you out for a drink instead; booze, coffee… whatever you want…”
His face was now just inches from yours, and you bit your lip as your gaze moved from his deep blue eyes down to his soft plump lips;
“I got coffee in my apartment?” you grinned; “What time do you get off?”
With a smirk he grinned at you;
“Babe, i don’t get off until i get you off”
“Oh you are so getting five stars…”
#colin shea#colin shea fanfic#colin shea x reader#whats your number#chris evans#fluff fanfic#meet cute
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the one with the early morning (poe x reader)
summary: you’re the opposite of the morning person - a grumpy, bleary-eyed mess with a caffeine addiction. it’s a good thing that poe dameron really loves you.
i love domestic fics and i especially love them with poe so this is fluff without plot oops
warnings: language (naturally)
enjoy,
- val xx
Your mornings had become a lot brighter since you began waking up in Poe Dameron’s arms.
You were still a vehemently anti-morning person but being woken up by the Resistance pilot rather than a blaring alarm clock certainly took the edge off. You usually woke up in the same position; his bare chest pressed to your back, arms wrapped around your waist and legs tangled together. Poe’s face was usually buried in the crook of your shoulder, his curly hair tickling your neck in a sensation that simply felt natural now.
‘Baby.’ His voice was always a little croaky first thing in the morning. ‘We gotta get up.’
‘Mmm.’ You couldn’t help but smile as he pulled a few strands of hair out your face, his warm hands brushing against your cheek. ‘I don’t think so.’
You felt Poe’s chest rumble slightly against your back as he let out a sleepy chuckle, arms giving your waist a light squeeze. ‘We have a meeting. I don’t think Leia will accept couldn’t get your ass out of bed as an excuse for being late.’
‘You love my ass.’
‘I do love your ass but right now, you need to get it into gear.’
You rolled over, face just inches away from Poe’s as your eyes met. His dark curls were slightly disheveled, sticking up in a thousand different directions. He was smiling at you sleepily - almost dreamily - as his large hand absent-mindedly combed through your hair. It was a sight that you could have basked in forever (and that was your plan, after all) and it only made you more determined to not move. If this was his attempt at trying to get you out of bed, it was one at which he was failing horribly.
‘This mattress is my true love.’ Burying your head in his chest, you let out a small sigh. ‘We are one. We will not be separated-’
-You let out a small shriek as the pilot suddenly grabbed you, one arm worming around your waist and tearing you out from underneath the sheets. The cold air of your bedroom hit your bare skin, giving you further cause to scream and thrash around. Talk about a nasty wake-up call.
‘Poe Dameron!’ You snapped, scowling as he placed you on the floor. ‘That was rude-’
‘- We’re gonna be late.’ He pressed a kiss to your nose, and your frown momentarily evaporated. ‘And I think you’ll find that I am your one true love, not that mattress.’
‘You'll pay for that.’ You pointed at him, walking backwards as you retreated to the refresher. ‘Mark my words, Dameron.’
‘I look forward to it.’
You gave him one last glare before spinning around and retreating into your little en-suite. Above all, you were simply grateful that Poe had convinced you to shower with him the night before so that you’d have more time this morning - though you suspected he might have had an ulterior motive. Either way, it gave you an extra twenty minutes to lull around and whine.
Poe - now in his work clothes - soon joined you. He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek as he passed, forcing a pile of clothes into your hands. The button up shirt that he’d handed you was actually his, something that caused you to smile slightly despite your grouchiness.
You’d come to learn in recent months that Poe Dameron expressed his love for you through menial tasks and tiny actions. He was capable of grand gestures of love but if you read between the lines, it was easy to see that his feelings for you were clear and present every day; he remembered exactly how you liked your caff and he always picked the anchovies off of your pizza because he knew you hated them. He’d bring you dinner if you were working late and you’d sometimes drift off on the sofa and wake up to find he’d put a blanket over you.
He saved your ass both on missions and in everyday life. You were forever grateful for your flyboy.
After finishing up getting ready, you exited the refresher only to be met by Poe shouting. He was waist deep into your wardrobe, rifling through to try and find something.
‘Head’s up!’ He yelled. A second later, one of your boots came flying towards you. You ducked just in time, narrowly missing the second one as it hit the wall behind you. ‘Why do you always shove your shoes so far to the back of the closet?’
‘Why do you toss them across the room?’ You shot back, tugging them both on.
‘I said head’s up.’ Poe replied.
‘Saying head’s up when it’s already flying towards my face doesn’t do much.’ You couldn’t help but smile.
You leant up to press a soft kiss to Poe’s lips, smiling against him as he wrapped an arm around your waist. Okay - there were some moments in the morning that you enjoyed.
‘You got everything?’ Poe asked. ‘Mission report? Files? Keys?’
‘Yup - check, check and check.’ You replied. ‘You got Beebs?’
The beeping of the BB-unit beside your feet quickly answered your question, circling the two of you as he bumbled on about early is on time, on time is late. Before meeting the little droid, you’d had no idea that they were capable of being such sticklers for the rules, sometimes to the point of annoyance - not that you were mentioning names.
(Threepio).
‘In that case,’ Poe intertwined his fingers with yours, ‘we should head out before you try and climb back into bed.’
He pulled you out of the room and down the corridor, winding an arm around your shoulder. He still kept your fingers intertwined, thumb gently ghosting the back of your hand as you walked alongside each other. None of your colleagues blinked an eye at the displays of affection; everyone knew that Poe was a physically affectionate guy. It was pretty common to find him attached to Snap like a clingy sloth every-time they drank or falling asleep on Finn’s shoulder in a meeting.
Once you reached the mess hall, Poe pulled you inside. There were a few people sitting around eating breakfast, drinking cups of caff and covering the Resistance-issued oatmeal in sugar to try and make it edible.
‘Hey guys.’ Finn smiled at you when your eyes met. You took a seat opposite him at the table whilst Poe went off to get coffee.
Rey was next to your Finn, Threepio on her other side. You didn’t bother to ask why a droid was there, given that he couldn’t eat, but he’d assimilated himself into the human race so well that you often forgot he wasn’t one of you.
‘Morning,’ you rubbed your eyes, dropping your head against the cold metal of the table.
‘Late night?’ Finn asked, waggling his eyebrows. ‘Is Poe keeping you up?’
‘The opposite, actually.’ You grumbled. ‘He practically kicked me out of bed this morning.’
Poe was probably the only person in the whole base - nay, the whole galaxy - who could do such a thing and get away with it. It was a widely-accepted fact across the Resistance that the wise thing to do in the morning was to avoid you. Nobody was accusing you of being unfriendly, unsociable and as dangerous as a gundark nest but Leia had definitely used those exact words in that exact order.
‘Today won’t be too long.’ Rey offered words of comfort. ‘Just a few meetings, a few briefings and you can return to your bed.’
‘Actually,’ Threepio held his finger in the air, head tilting between the two of you. ‘Today is supposed to run until at least 6PM. According to my schedule-’
‘- Threepio.’ Finn warned. ‘I wouldn’t-’
‘- and then tomorrow we have an even earlier start!’ The droid continued.
‘You should listen to Finn.’ You lifted your head from the table, thinning your eyes.
‘The agenda for next week is even more exciting.’ He continued.
‘Read the room, Threepio!’
Before you could flip the table and launch yourself at the poor droid, Poe had re-appeared beside you, placing a cup of caff in front of you. He took the seat next to you, the feeling of his arm around your waist almost being enough to calm you down.
‘I know that expression.’ The pilot declared. ‘It’s the Y/N needs her coffee or she’ll throttle Threepio look.’
‘You know me so well.’ You took the mug of caff, pressing a kiss to his stubbly cheek.
‘That’s love.’ The pair of you raised your hands at the same time, meeting halfway in a strangely co-ordinated but not-at-all-planned high five.
#poe dameron x reader#poe dameron imagine#poe dameron fluff#poe x reader#poe imagine#poe fluff#poe dameron x you#poe x you#poe dameron x y/n#poe x y/n#star wars x reader#star wars imagine#star wars fluff#star wars headcanons
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