#watched a beloved celebrity get ripped in half

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

bumblebees first day out of sublevel 50

[fushigur0ll]

24/7 SURVEILLANCE

꒰ ♡ ꒱ — you snuck in the kitchen late at night to eat all the sweets but earth42!miles catches you [ sequel to in sickness & in health ]

including; kisses, you getting caught eating cake, miles carrying you, cuddles and black fem reader!!! not proofread, ignore mistakes

“i’m not even gonna lie, i’m not in the least bit surprised” miles announced out-loud, making you flinch and yelp, turning around to face him with your mouth messy from the cake and icing.

It was around 5 AM, and miles was rolling into yet another comfortable position in bed when he realized that he wasn't holding you in his arms. He had been hugging air for about an hour now, and as he looked at the bed, he noticed that you were no longer there. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern.

"Babe.." he called out, but received no response other than the faint sound of padding downstairs. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, stretched his limbs, and with a groan, swung his legs off the bed and stood up. He walked across the room towards the door and exited as quietly as possible, hearing the fridge opening and closing. As he walked towards the kitchen, he heard you curse in a loud whispering tone. He saw you struggling to take off the plastic from the cake container, but they made too much noise.

He watched as you huffed in frustration and stepped back, staring at the vanilla cake sitting in its container. You thought to yourself, "If I were to just take it off, it would make too much noise and wake up my beloved sleeping boyfriend." Unbeknownst to you, he was already downstairs, leaning against the doorframe and watching you with amusement.

You sighed and touched the container again, staring at it before taking a deep breath and coughing as loudly as you could to rip off the container. The way you ripped it off was so delayed to your coughing that he wanted to laugh right then and there. However, he held back his laughter and watched as you did a little dance in celebration.

‘cute’ he thinks to himself. you get a fork and start eating the cake, moaning and humming in delight from the taste of vanilla swarming in your mouth.

"I'll have a few more bites, then I'm done," you mumbled to yourself with a mouthful of cake, your words slightly muffled. Miles heard you nonetheless and watched as you took a few more bites which turned to another few more and more and more and more— so you basically lied to yourself but the cake was just too good! you continued to enjoy the half-eaten cake.He glanced at the clock and saw that it was 5:49 AM. Shaking his head, he decided to bring you back to bed. He wanted to present himself to you, and that's where the beginning of this story began and now continues.

you stared at Miles after he announced himself with a fork in your hand, covered in cake. Your mouth was also covered in cake, and even the tip of your nose was smudged with it. Miles couldn't help but laugh as he looked at the mess you had made. You continued to chew and swallow whatever was left in your mouth while still staring at him.

"hi baby!" you smiled and grabbed a paper towel to wipe your mouth off. Miles composed himself and walked towards you, taking the towel from your hand to wipe your mouth. He held your chin and tilted it up to get a better view of what he had to clean.

“so you escape from my arms to come and eat cake because i said no yesterday when you were sick” he raises an eyebrow and you look away

“..because you were being unfair- but me being unfair got you better no?” he cuts you off and smirks when he sees you glare and huff.

“tired of you” you mumble but collapse into his chest hugging him tightly and he hugs you back, kissing your head.

“did you at least enjoy the cake” he asks, looking down at you and you stare back up at him with your chin on his chest.

“it was so good” you whisper, shaking your head and he chuckles, patting your bonnet/hair wrap protected head. “wanna go back to bed now?” he asks removing his arms from you to put the fork in the sink and putting the plastic back on the cake with your arm still around his torso. he looks at you when he was finished and hoists your up and over his shoulder making you yelp and hold his lower back.

“MILES- BOY WHATS WRONG WITH YOU” you panic, kicking your legs and he just pinches your thigh making you hiss and give up. “i hate you”

“you love me” he retorts

“i do, i really do” you sigh helplessly and he laughs, walking out the kitchen and turning off the light on his way out.

he stops suddenly and scrunches up his face. you get confused. “baby? you okay?” you try to look at him from upside down and just as he was about to say something he lets out a huge and ugly sneeze. his eyes widen and then puts you down, glaring at you to which you blink up at him in confusion

“something happened?” you frown and cup his cheeks but they suddenly feel warm so you feel his neck and forehead.

“miles you’re burning up-ohhhhhhh..wooow” you realize as to why he’s glaring at you and suck your lips in trying refrain from laughing but he notices and pounces at you but you were too quick and was already running up the stairs cackling with him right behind you also too fast and caught up with you. he flings you over his shoulder again and sighs, walking towards the bedroom with you giggling drunkly upside down

“and what did i say yesterday?” he grumbles, gently throwing you on the bed, causing you to bounce on it.

"Uhh... that you love me?" you blinked flirtatiously, but all he did was hit you with a pillow, making you laugh even more. He fell on top of you and sighed, sniffling.

“now i have to take care of you” you smile, rubbing the back of his neck and cheek, feeling him doze off on your chest as he just mumbles incoherent things.

“lucky i love you..would’ve thrown you in the garbage can” he mutters tiredly, getting comfortable on your body and you snicker.

“certainly lucky, very lucky indeed”

fushigur0ll © 2022 all rights reserved. do not plagarize, translate, or post to other sites please.

[harocat]

‘Fuck those anime twinks.’

Man shut the fuck up; those anime twinks crashed tumblr and other major websites multiple times, those anime twinks had an influence on queer media that is still felt to this day, those anime twinks bust through a niche sub genre to almost mainstream, with thousands of people who had never even watched anime becoming invested, those anime twinks changed lives and helped so many burgeoning queer people come to head with their identities like you have no idea, those anime twinks were the third best selling anime of the century despite being a passion project that wasn’t expected to be a hit at all, those anime twinks were written and directed by two women who spent years shopping around their idea, refusing to compromise and fighting censorship even though not doing so would have made getting their project out there so much easier.

Those anime twinks were in the OLYMPICS.

Those anime twinks have only twelve episodes, about four and a half hours total, but have still managed to be among the most beloved ships out there.

They’re also legitimately well written, compelling, and for a lot of people, one of the few patches of joy we had during that autumn of 2016.

In the words of Zac Bertschy (rip):

Surely you must be sick of hearing about how great this show is by now. I agree with all that stuff, and you've read it a few times now, so instead I'll tell you what the show meant to me personally.

Victor and Yuri kiss, and the entire world celebrates – the crowd goes wild, people can't believe it. Not because it's two dudes - we're not having a collective aneurysm because two men are kissing and that's either enraging or an enormous turn-on. People go nuts because – solely because - their love is dramatic and touching and everyone is rooting for them, because they seem like they belong together and their story is pretty incredible. None of that other shit matters – nobody cares. It's just two people in love. Paradise. I married my husband in October – thousands of couples like us got married this year. Our stories aren't as incredible as Victor and Yuri's, and I doubt many of us are ice skaters but let me tell you, it was real nice having a story like this to watch. Real nice.

[mlmxreader]

The Guilt of Leaving | John Soap MacTavish x gn!reader

『••���••』

↳ ❝ Soap with

82 "I just need a hug from you, specifically" ❞

: ̗̀➛ Soap leaves you at the worst time, and to make things even more difficult, he knows you're not even prepared for it.

: ̗̀➛ swearing, graphic depictions of fatal injuries & dead bodies, smoking, major character death, themes of suicide

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

When you first got the call, your heart dropped.

You screamed until your lungs gave out, cried until your head throbbed and pounded and snot was coating your face. You had always thought that he would be lucky, that he would never be the one to go.

That he would retire one day and you would live the rest of your lives trying to make up for all the time you had missed. You prayed, although you knew that it wouldn't save him. You asked the rabbi if there was a way, but they didn't answer. He wouldn't come back.

You stopped looking after yourself. The toothbrush was dry for months. The pile of dirty clothes piled up and up until you had nothing left to change into. You rarely ate, rarely slept. You stopped going out, stopped answering your phone, especially if any of his old friends called.

You always left the side door unlocked, hoping that he would walk through it. But he never did. He never would again.

Your boyfriend, your beloved Johnny, was dead.

Ever since that phone call, you had not been the same.

You never would be again, you and Johnny were… you had been together since you were teenagers. You were going to get married, you were going to have a family. You didn't even feel real anymore. Detached from everything, unsure if it was reality or if you were dreaming. A hazy state.

Constantly wondering if you should push yourself off of the top stair with your back facing them. Johnny was your everything. He was your best friend in the whole world. He was your boyfriend. He was your favourite person.

Now he wasn't even around to give you a soft kiss on the temple and tell you that it was all going to be alright. Nothing was the same anymore. You didn't smile when you saw old reruns of EastEnders and Waterloo Road on the television. You didn't feel excited to watch I'm A Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here!, you couldn't.

Those were things that you and Johnny watched together. You didn't even smoke the same kind of cigarettes anymore, constantly breaking apart and screaming his name when you saw his brand of tobacco on the kitchen counter. You couldn't cope anymore.

It was a dark, early morning, not even five hundred hours, when you went down to the kitchen. You didn't bother turning on the light as you went to the drawer and opened it, grabbing the long and sharp knife and taking a shaky breath.

You couldn't cope. You couldn't bring Johnny back as much as you wanted to, and you didn't know what to do without him. You had always been together. He was the one constant in your life.

You sat on the floor with your back against the cupboard, holding the tip of the knife against your wrist. You couldn't stand it anymore, you just wanted to see him again. You just wanted to be with him again.

You were about to do it, when the side door gently opened. The light turned on, and something stepped in.

He didn't look the same. His jaw was almost completely torn off, bits of his skull missing and exposing the ripped and shredded brain beneath. His eyes coated in a milky white; he took a few steps forward, lurching and jerking movements as he struggled to speak.

Black froth spewing from his bloodied and half missing lips. He babbled and gargled as he approached, crashing down onto his knees before you with a harsh crack, bones pushing through skin with ease as they snapped and forced the flesh to ripple.

With fuzzy grey fingers topped with black nails, he grabbed the knife, and threw it aside. More gargling and babbling. He stunk.

A sharp, distinct smell that sat uneasily against your nose and made you feel sick.

You didn't even think, lurching forward and hugging him tightly despite the sound of something cracking. “I don't care if this is real or not, I just need a hug from you, specifically.”

Johnny wanted to speak. He wanted to tell you that it was all going to be alright and that he was there, now, you had nothing to worry about. But he couldn't force what was left of his jaw back into place, and he supposed that the gaping and squelching hole in his throat probably didn't help, either.

Sighing as he resigned himself to letting you hold him. He wondered if you could feel how cold his flesh was, how his blood was congealed and clumpy. He wondered if you noticed that his heart wasn't beating. But then you pulled away, and he garbled as he did his best to speak.

“Oh, Johnny,” you whispered, sobbing. “I just wanna die…”

He shook his head, choking and static coming from his damaged throat.

“I don't know what to do without you,” you murmured. “And I don't know if you're real, but… but I love you, and I can't… I can't do this alone.”

Johnny wanted to reach out, he wanted to feel your warm skin against his and to know that everything would be fine; he felt terrible for leaving you so soon, he felt awful.

He knew that you would long for him forever and that your soul would forever be entwined with his; but he also knew that he couldn't come back. He was more than aware that he had to make you let him go, to let him rest.

But you wouldn't do that.

Johnny was smarter than that, he knew that after all the years you had been together, you would forever scream his name in your sleep; you would forever long for him to come home. Your soul would always tug on his.

He let out a quiet growl, spitting blood onto his thighs as he shook his head.

Johnny would never stop feeling the guilt of leaving you so soon, leaving you when you weren't ready whatsoever.

[insomniac-jay]

To the Belly of the Beast

After receiving a tempting email from her agent, Vytal heads to Kaijura Studios for a new job. There, she meets a new face.

Vytal/Suma Chikara belongs to @calciumcryptid

Aquanette/Sakana Mizuiro belongs to @julieemarine

When her agent told her that she found her a gig she might like, Suma half believed him.

As much as she enjoyed working on more serious, mature shows, it became tiring interacting with an adult fanbase. Hopefully this new job would give her something new, something fresh.

"Your destination is on the right."

Suma's attention stayed on her phone the whole ride. She scrolled mindlessly through news of her fellow heroes and celebrities as the car came to a stop. She turned her head away to nod at her driver opening the passenger door.

Donning a pair of sunglasses, she stepped out then looked up at the building. According to her agent this was the famous Kaijura Studios, the same studio that produced the much beloved Monster Wars franchise. Suma heard about it through the grapevine of friends and family with young children-- whom the franchise was massively popular with.

Okay, so I'm gonna possibly be working on a kids series, Chikara thought as she walked towards the building.

Greeting her was a small garden with statues of the famous monsters, or kaiju, from the series. It looked like it was ripped straight out of a concept for a children's park, but that's gave the place a welcoming atmosphere.

The garden was peaceful, serene. Like Suma could spend several hours in it and never get bored; and for that she commended them.

Soon the hot summer air was switched to the cool AC air upon Suma entering the building. She stopped at the receptionist's desk and tapped the little bell.

"Hello and welcome to Kaijura Studios," the receptionist greeted. "How can I help you?"

"Hello, I have a scheduled appointment here with your boss," Suma replied, taking off her sunglasses. "Name's Chikara Suma."

The receptionist typed away at his computer before looking back up at her a few minutes later. "Yes, you are on the list. Give me like, two minutes to make a phone call then I'll send you his way."

Suma nodded and stepped back from the desk. While the receptionist was busy, she decided to look around to get a feel of what she was about to get herself into.

Luckily the first thing that caught her eye was a picture of an older man watching two young boys holding cameras. Their features were reptilian with long tails and claw tipped hands and feet. The eldest boy had crystals protruding from his back while the younger one had fins.

"Miss Chikara."

Suma's attention turned back to the receptionist. "Hm?"

"Mr. Kaijura is ready to see you."

The receptionist then gave her directions to the boss's office. With that part done, Suma made her way to Mr. Kaijura. According to the receptionist, his office was on the third floor and towards the back.

As she rode the elevator, her phone buzzed. It was a text from her agent.

How's it going so far?

Pretty good. The place is nice and the receptionist was a sweetheart.

Trust me, Chikara. You are going to love the new role.

The elevator came to a soft halt as the doors opened. A noticeably smaller and chubbier woman with curly ultramarine hair and eyes walked through the doors. She pressed the button for the first floor.

"You work here?" Suma asked.

"Oh, no. Sai- I mean, Mr. Kaijura asked me to do some stunt work for the upcoming movie," the woman replied. "My name's Mizuiro, by the way."

"Chikara. I guess that you and Mr. Kaijura are quite close if you're already on a first name basis with him." Suma winked at Mizuiro, causing the latter to fluster and fidget.

"W-well-"

The elevator dinged when it reached the third floor, cutting their conversation short. Suma gave Mizuiro a smile before walking off and heading to the back where Mr. Kaijura's office was. Once there, she moved to knock on the door only for it to be opened for her.

"You must be Chikara," Mr. Kaijura greeted. "I'm Kaijura Saizo, or you can call me Ori-"

"Ah, so you're Orion!" Suma exclaimed. "Sorry about that. I've just always wanted to meet you because of all the things I've heard about you."

Saizo smiled. "It's fine. Now, lets get to our meeting, shall we?"

[moremaybank]

hi love i have a headcanons request for yandere klaus mikaelson

yandere klaus mikaelson headcanons

warnings: slight sexual themes mentioned, slight violent themes, recommended 18+

klaus masterlist

before you officially meet, he keeps his eyes on the you

watching you go about your everyday life

getting to know your hobbies, your favourite spots to visit in the city

your go-to food places, coffee places, book shops

what flowers you pay extra attention to

he learns everything that he can about you, really

like where you went to high school

and what dance studio you danced at when you were 12

he wants to know everything before he can approach you, so he's sure he can woo you

and eventually, he does

now onto the relationship portion of this headcanon

having the klaus mikaelson being head-over-heels in love with you can be an amazing thing

but it can also be...you know...complicated

for instance

you're beautiful

drop dead gorgeous, even

and klaus knows that

it's just not so great that everyone else on earth seems to know it too

so when you drag him out to the club and you catch the eye of a handsome male stranger, klaus cannot keep his cool

"so, can i buy you a drink?"

"sorry, mate. i've got that covered. what you can do, though, is get out of my girl's vicinity before i rip your head from your neck with my teeth"

seriously, this man cannot do a damn thing without threatening someone at least once

there was also the time you two went out for your one year anniversary dinner

all you wanted was a nice, quiet, romantic night with your beloved to celebrate a year of being in love with each other

fate had other plans though

one of the waitresses at the restaurant accidentally spills a glass of water on your dress

you assure her you're fine, and that it's no big deal

klaus on the other hand...

in the blink of an eye he has the waitress pinned against the wall with his hand through her chest, telling her that she should have taken 'walking lessons' to ensure that she didn't ruin your night

walking lessons

and then her heart is lying on the floor

of course you scold him after the fact

but he looks at you with those blue puppy dog eyes

"but love, i just wanted tonight to be special for you. you deserve the best of everything"

and then you fold because let's be honest, who could stay mad at that face

he will not let you out of his sight, especially when he fears he has enemies crawling around the city

honestly it's hard for him to let you out of his sight ever

it doesn't take much for him to act as possessive as he truly is inside

if someone even looks at you the wrong way...they're dead by the end of the night

there is no discussion about it

this even applies to his siblings

you and rebekah had grown quite close since your relationship with klaus began

one day rebekah comes into your shared bedroom with klaus, asking if you wanted to go shopping with her for a girl's day

you obviously go to say yes but your overeager boyfriend speaks before you can

"dear sister...y/n is not interested in going out for a shopping day. the only mikaelson she needs to hangout with is me"

and don't even get me started on his jealousy

this man will seriously riot if a guy smiles you (as we covered earlier)

or at the mention of another male’s name

let's face it, he's dead and so is your sexual stamina by the end of the night

because once you get home, your back is pushed against the wall as he attacks your neck with harsh but pleasurable kisses and yanks your bra in half

you're calling out his name as he ravishes you, your back hitting against the wall with every one of his thrusts, his anger dissipating at the sight, taste and feel of you

poor baby just needs to remind you - and himself - that he's the one you want, the one you need

the one you go home to and the one you choose to spend your life with every single day

and when worst comes to worst, you know you're with a man who would stop at nothing to defend you and take care of you

because you are his everything

~

a/n: hope i did this right! friendly reminder that requests are open :)

[butwhyduh]

Ephemoral

Damian Wayne x reader

Summary: another of my betrayal stories. Damian is like 20. I don’t want to betray children lmao.

You were saccharine like the sweet honey candy Damian would eat as a child. Your laughter was a soft melody he adored. And sight of you with tears in your eyes made him want to rip the world apart. His love for you was like an ancient Grecian tale and it scared Damian. He cared too deeply for someone who’s feet were so shallow in this world. He’d died once and could easily do so again.

But laying next to you on a blanket on the south lawn of Wayne Manor, made Damian not care about his fear. You were here and so was he. His eyes watched you stretch and smile. He couldn’t help but lean over to hug your waist. He breathed in your soft perfum deeply with closed eyes.

“Dami! What are you doing?” You laughed and he grinned.

“Capturing the princess,” he said kissing your collarbone. You laughed and pulled away as he tickled your ribs. “You’re so beautiful today. Have I told you?”

“No. I’m only wearing a hoodie and jeans, Dami,” you reminded him.

“It’s not your clothing that makes you beautiful,” Damian said leaning over you. You looked at his intense green eyes framed with thick dark lashes and full brows. His tan skin glowed in the sunshine. “It’s what’s underneath,” he said romantically.

“Kinky,” you whispered in his ear with a grin and he stiffened before rolling his eyes.

“I was trying to be sweet. Though you are quite lovely physically as well, beloved,” Damian conceded. You grinned and grasped the back of his neck. You pulled him into a kiss. You spent most of the unseasonably warm winter day kissing on the lawn. Damian didn’t dare take it further as you were stanch on your beliefs that sex should be private.

“What would you like to eat, my beloved,” he asked later in the day. Damian lay on his back, looking at the dying lights of dust. You had nestled into his arms to watch too.

“Hmmm how about something spicy,” you asked looking over to him. He grinned and nodded. Damian could never tell you no.

“Let’s get changed and we can go eat somewhere properly,” he suggested. You rolled over in his arms to look at his face.

“Really?” You asked. “Don’t you have patrol tonight?”

“Later. But right now, I want to spoil my love,” he said grasping the back of your neck gently to pull you into a kiss.

Damian had gotten a table at an exclusive restaurant. Of course he had. One word and he could go anywhere: Wayne. You considered feeling bad but as you walked up the stairs to a private table on the balcony that watched over Gotham’s night sky, you could care less. The city could be on fire and Damian wouldn’t have noticed. His eyes were on the dress that curved to your form, the soft clicking sound of your heels, the wine colored lipstick you wore.

You chatted softly about things in your life. University classes and hobbies. Damian couldn’t help but feel a guilt. You knew he was a Wayne and was Robin. But you didn’t know he was an Al Ghul or his long complicated past. The fact that he was raised as an assassin. The fact that his mother had verbally threatened to kill you a few times and only Damian’s threats back had stopped her.

“Damian, are you okay?” You asked after a while. He had a hard line of his brow and he was silent. Damian shook himself and sat up straighter.

“I apologize. My mind was wandering,” he admitted. You grasped his hand.

“To what?”

“My mother,” he said truthfully. Damian didn’t know why he told you that. One of your eyebrows rose. He had never said anything about her and the issue seemed painful.

“Really?”

“Yes. 2 days ago was her birthday,” Damian said. Not that the league would ever celebrate simply being born. You had to earn a celebration in war or strategy.

“Oh. Do you speak to her,” you finally asked. You’d wanted to know for a long time but was scared to bring it up. Why was he willing to share Robin with you but not his own mother?

“No. I haven’t in years. She’s....” Damian failed to come up with the right words. A murderer? Assassin? Cold heartless bitch? No. In her own way, she loved him. And unfortunately it was a deeply dysfunctional way. “Strong willed. And hard to get along with. It’s hard to explain.”

“I see. Do you want to get along with her? You’re a grown man now. Surely she would respect that,” you said and he almost rolled his eyes at how innocent and naive you sounded. His mother would rather rip out her own spine than let Damian be his own man if it was up to her. Damian simply squeezed your hand gently.

“I don’t think so. She believes eternal ‘I’m your mother, listen to me.’ We’ve butt heads for years over it. Even though we live across the globe apart,” Damian said with a rueful smile. He hadn’t told you about her, not really. But it felt good to tell you that his relationship with her wasn’t great. It was partial honesty at least.

“Where does she live,” you asked and his brain froze for a half minute. That was something he could not answer. She was far too dangerous to know about. Ignorance was truly bliss on the account.

“She travels a lot. China, Middle East, Peru. She doesn’t stay in one place very long,” Damian said. He was truthful at least.

“Wow. She must have a great job to travel like that. What does she do,” you asked. He almost laughed in frustration. When did you become the detective? That’s not fair to you. Inquisition is not a flaw in of itself.

“She works in defense contracts. It’s very confidential and complicated,” he finally answered. You nodded sagely.

“Like the rest of your family. Complicated and confidential,” you answered giving him a wry smile. Damian smiled back.

“Perhaps. Perhaps. I hate to eat and run, beloved. But duty calls. Can I call you a car to the manor?” Damian asked. You nodded. There was one company that the Wayne family would hire rides from. One of Alfred’s ex military buddies owned a contractor company that hired private security that doubled as drivers. Confidential and discreet was their motto and they had never let down the family.

20 minutes later a member of the staff walked you, and a small box of food from the dessert platter, to a waiting car. The driver was a quiet intense looking man. He had obvious muscles despite being in a full suit. It wasn’t a surprise. He was security after all.

“Wayne Manor, please sir,” you called to him. He nodded.

“Of course Madame,” he answered in a very soft accent that wasn’t Gothamite. You sat back and relaxed. It was almost 11 and you were getting a little tired. Your head began to droop and your eyes became heavy. It was in that moment that the car made a wrong turn. You sat up straight.

“Sir, it was supposed to be a right turn back there. You’ve gone the wrong way,” you said. He only rolled the partition closed. You gasped. “Sir,” you said forcefully as he drove faster the wrong way. You looked at your phone and noticed a no service sign. There was no way with the amount Damian paid for it. You tried the knob at a stop sign to find it locked like you worried. Your heart pounded roughly. You were being kidnapped.

For 2 hours, the car drove farther and farther out of Gotham. Your city was nowhere to be seen and you didn’t have a clue where you were. The car finally drove up the gravel drive of what looked like a military compound. You gulped as it stopped. The door opened and the man motioned for you to get out. You shrank to the back of the seat.

“If you don’t come out willingly, I will have to drag you and I’d hate to ruin your pretty dress,” he said in a tone that made you think that he hoped to ruin your clothing. Your eyes were wide but you climbed out on your own. He looked you over hungrily before shoving your shoulder toward the front door. You gasped. Your heels made loud clicking noises on the concrete floor and you almost grimaced at how loud you felt. There was no sneaking in here.

He walked you up a set of stairs into a private room. The man gave you a look over before locking you in. Almost as an insult, he hadn’t bothered to take your phone from you. It was useless without any signal.

In another room, Talia lounged in a chair. She watched the security footage of your room. You looked around stiffly before finally sitting on the corner of the bed. You were kidnapped and being held in a cement room in the middle of nowhere without a way to contact anyone in a dress and heels. This was less than ideal.

“I wonder what my son sees in her. She didn’t fight at all. Came willingly. Not much in the way of protecting herself. How could she possibly be a good partner,” Talia asked and the men beside her knew better than to answer. Talia decided to meet you herself.

She casually opened the door and walked in. You stared at her. Talia smiled softly. You were terrified and scared people are easy to control.

“Hello,” she started. “My name is Talia, and you are dating my son, Damian.”

What an odd specific coincidence that you would see her right after talking about her. She wasn’t dressed as if she was in the military and damn sure wasn’t in China or Peru. What didn’t Damian tell you?

“I simply had to meet you. I must say that I’m... disappointed. You aren’t much of a fighter, are you?” She said. Much like a good lawyer, Talia asked questions she already knew the answer to.

“I didn’t know I needed to be,” you said and she grinned.

“No. But you do have a mouth. Such a pretty little one. Too bad,” she said and before you could comprehend what she meant, you were hit in the mouth. You cried out in pain and covered your face in your hand. Your shoulders curled around you protectively and you scooted to the back of the bed. You could taste iron and you wiped away some blood. She had busted your lip already.

“Didn’t even attempt to deflect my hit. And your soft lip burst open instantly. You could never handle a real fight,” she said before tutting. You could only stare up at her as she towered over you. She was right. Damian had taught you a few self defense maneuvers but you had never fought anyone.

You could see parts of her that were in Damian. Besides the obvious skin color, she had his intense eyes and her predatory mannerisms. Damian had never used it on you, but you had seen Robin scare criminals without a word. You had thought it was a Batman thing, but it was from her. Batman hung over them like a predatory bird that killed quickly, with mercy. Talia looked at them the way a cat looked at a mouse. She was going to play with them before eating. You resisted the urge to shiver.

“Damian will be here in a few hours. Why don’t I see if I can toughen you up beforehand,” she said smiling. Talia gripped your shoulder and dug her nails in. You groaned. You tried to pull away.

“No no, dear. That will cost you,” she said before backhanding your face. You gasped out a sob as blood started flowing again.

—————————

It took Damian a full 3 hours to realize you were missing. Embarrassingly long time in his mind. He called the car company to ask about the ride. Damian expected you to be asleep and didn’t want to wake you to calm his mind.

“Mr Wayne, we have an issue,” a woman’s crisp voice cake through the phone. Damian was taking a break on a rooftop.

“What do you mean,” he growled. She stuttered before answering.

“ we can’t find the driver. He won’t respond to our cal-“

“How long? How long have you known?” He asked. Damian was pacing the rooftop with pure murder on his face.

“About an hour, sir. We called GCPD immediately,” she said.

“Your incompetence astounds me,” he said before hanging up. Damian called you instantly. After the fifth time of your phone ringing to voicemail, he was almost in a panic. He sat down breathing deeply. He could call his father but this was his problem. He’d give it 2 hours and then call Bruce.

It was 10 minutes before he had his answer. There was a loud clicking sound in his comms signaling that Oracle was about to talk.

“Robin, there is a man tied up with a sign for you,” she said. “5th and Cherrry behind the gazebo. Police have already taken him into custody for care and questioning. But the message...” she trailed off.

“The Wayne place where it all started. Where you started. Or she’s dead,” Oracle read. “Does that mean anything Robin? Should I contact Batman? Nightwing?”

“No. I’ll take care of it,” he said hanging up on her. Damian knew exactly where to go as gross at it was. Bruce’s old compound in the woods where Damian was conceived. Of course his mother would reference something that weird. It was a full two hour drive up there and Damian was flying on his motorcycle. The place was now privately owned, probably the league. He climbed in through a side window, pulling out his swords as he snuck around. He turned a corner and stopped.

“My son,” Talia said with a false warmth. Damian looked over at her and she grinned. Behind her was you and Damian’s heart dropped. You were on your knees, your arms tied above your head in a V shape. The delicate dress you had worn to dinner only a few hours before was dirty with one strap hanging on your arm. The topside of your breast was visible as you breathed erratically. Spot of blood and dirt clung to the dress and Damian could see the sweat on you from where he stood yards away. Your bottom lip was bloody and swollen and you had the beginnings of a black eye. Talia had definitely been hurting you.

You looked up at him, your eyes were so fucking scared but hopeful. Hopeful that he would save you. But the second Damian moved towards you, Talia put a dagger to your throat.

“Okay Mother. You have my attention. What do you want?” Damian asked. He covered the raw rage in his voice with a blankness. She would win if he was emotional.

“I wanted to meet your companion. She is on a whole.... disappointing. Weaker than a kitten. No fight. She is not worthy of you, Damian. Not someone who you should conceive heirs of the Al Ghul line with. She is nothing,” Talia said.

Now Damian wanted to fight his mother, say that you were more important to him than she ever was. But if he did that, the target on your back was forever. And he didn’t think his mother would simply beat you next time. So he did something he hated.

“Mother. You misunderstand the situation. I have no intention of having children with her. I only keep her around to amuse me,” he said and your mouth fell open. You sagged against the ropes. “You’ve wasted your time kidnapping a toy. Mother, I thought you better than this. Let her go.”

You started crying. You were nothing to him. Just like you always feared. You weren’t wealthy or connected or powerful. Damian had been playing with you and you fell in love.

“Why don’t I just kill her,” she suggested and you gasped.

“No. As Robin, I cannot let you kill an innocent. She’s been naive but doesn’t deserve that,” he said and Talia backed away.

A side window broke. Batman and Nightwing landed on the ground. Talia’s men began fighting. Damian ran towards her and she evaded him.

“I won’t kill her. You have my words. But what I did was nothing compared to what you did, my son,” she said with a laugh. She ran past Bruce. “My beloved. We will meet again,” she said before climbing in an armored car that pulled up. The three heroes took out her men and tied them up.

Damian quickly ran to you and cut the rope with his katana. You fell into his arms. You were barely awake and tears fell down your face. Damian looked you over before hugging you tight. You tried to push him away.

“Don’t,” you said wetly. “Don’t touch me,” you said wobbly on your feet. “I’m not your toy.”

“Beloved. I said all of that to save you. I love you,” he said trying to get close and you put your arm up.

“No. I just want to go home,” you said barely pushing past him. You only made it a few steps before you collapsed. Damian caught you and half carried you bridal style as you looked away from him and sobbed. Nightwing came over quickly, sending the trouble.

“I can help you,” he asked and you pushed from Damian’s arms to his. Dick carried you to the batmobile. You sat sobbing in your hands.

“What happened?” Dick asked after closing the door and standing by Damian.

“I had to tell mother I was not interested in her. What I said was cruel, I’ll admit. But she wanted to kill her, Richard,” Damian said. His whole face looked pained. Dick nodded.

Damian followed the batmobile to the cave. Dick carried you to the med bay where your cuts and scrapes were cleaned. You changed clothing. Ice was applied to your bruises and you looked so close to sleep. Damian stood close by nervously.

“Go away,” you said to him and Damian’s brows furrowed and he closed his eyes. “I don’t want you near me.”

He nodded and left the area. Instead, Damian watched you on the main monitor. You cried into a pillow before falling asleep. Damian could barely watch.

“What do I do?” He asked Dick miserably. “How do I take back what I said?”

“Give her time. Give her space. She’ll just to process it first” Dick suggested. Damian nodded.

That’s how you went an entire month without seeing him. He watched you everyday. Damian gave you all the space you needed. It was long after your lip had healed before he spoke to you. You stayed at a friend’s house. You signed up for college classes, got a job at a coffee shop, and just tried to move on.

But it had truly fucked you up. Yeah, you had nightmares about Talia beating the shit out of you. But what was worse was that every memory of Damian was tainted. Did he truly love you or was he simply playing with you. He seemed like he had loved you. Was it all fake?

He came to your work. It was purely an accident. Damian just wanted a coffee. He walked up to the counter pulling out his wallet and almost dropped it when he saw you. Your hair was falling out of a hairnet and your white dress shirt had seen better day. But Damian thought you looked so beautiful.

“Hi,” he said and you stiffened.

“Damian,” you breathed.

“How- how are you?” He asked.

“Fine. Do you want a coffee or something? There’s a line,” you motioned behind him. He quickly ordered a drink.

“Can I talk to you sometime?” He asked as you made the drink.

“Uuh.”

“Yes? Give me just a few minutes of your time,” he begged and you stopped to look at him. You sighed.

“I have a break in 15 minutes. You can talk then I guess,” you answered. You handed him his coffee.

“Thanks. Great,” he said with a determined look before sitting at a table. Damian watched you work almost the entire time. It was a little unnerving but how he used to be before.

You sat down with a drink beside him. Damian played with his fingers before speaking. You couldn’t help notice how handsome he looked in a dark green Henley and black jeans.

“I’m sorry I haven’t tried to talk to you earlier,” he started. “But I need you to know, everything I said that night to my mother was a lie. I have never thought of you like that. But if I showed interest in you, she would have targeted you. I should have told you about her earlier.”

“What does she really do?”

Damian sighed.

“She’s an assassin. She raised me to be one until I was 8 and then I moved in with my father. I should have warned you about her. She’s crazy. Obsessed with the lineage in our family. It’s very strange. I don’t share her beliefs,” he said.

“That’s good because that was... weird. I mean, the whole thing was but her talking about heirs was super weird,” you said taking a drink.

“Yeah. Yeah. I sometimes think she picked Bruce because of his pedigree. But more important that any of that madness is you. I miss you,” he says earnestly. You gulped.

It was painful. He called you everything you worried about. Nothing but a toy. A distraction.

“I really really miss you. Because I-“ he struggled to speak. “I love you,” Damian finally said. He had never said that one. He had always danced just beside those words.

“Dami,” you said cautiously.

“I love you. And I always have,” he said holding your hand. You didn’t pull away. “Please let me make it up to you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“I- I don’t know,” you said feeling yourself fall under his spell.

“Please,” he whispered leaning towards you. You leaned in as well. His pretty green eyes stared at you, pleading. You couldn’t say no to him either.

“Okay,” you said. Damian gently, like he might break you, gave you a kiss. He pulled back to look at your face for any reaction. You had a little smile before giving him another kiss.

[everlarkficexchange]

How Katniss Everdeen Got Her Groove Back

Author: @hutchhitched

Prompt 34: Modern AU where a forty year old Katniss has shut herself off from the world from fear of getting hurt. After her sister dies she realizes how isolated she is and now wants to open herself up to love, but hasn’t a clue where to begin. Everlark HEA - the details of how they meet and what Peeta’s been up to are entirely up to you. :) [submitted by anonymous]

Ratings/Warnings: E

The room’s dark. There’s only one small lamp burning in the corner, but that makes the single candle in the cupcake brighter than it would have been if the entire area were lit. It’s a somber celebration, but that doesn’t make much difference. It’s as it should be.

“Happy birthday, dear Katniss… Happy birthday to you.”

As the last note fades into silence, Katniss whispers a birthday wish and blows out the candle.

“Happy birthday to me,” she mumbles. She’s alone and tired and feeling older than she thought she could. In the grand scheme of things, forty isn’t that many years, but the difference between her fourth and fifth decades seems like lightyears. She’s halfway (or more) through life, and she’s hiding from it.

No one could really blame her for running—not with the experiences she’s faced. Her father gone as a young man leaving Katniss, her mother, and her younger sister Prim alone with practically no income and empty stomachs that gnawed at her insides for months as she fell asleep. Her mother falling into addiction to anti-depressants and opiates leaving Katniss to keep the household together so she and Prim wouldn’t be taken by child services and separated. Her beloved sister gone in a house fire that ripped through the apartment building where she’d stayed while enrolled in med school in a neighboring state. That’s enough tragedy for any one person, and that doesn’t even count her own pain and disappointments during the past forty years.

She’s suffered plenty of both. There’ve been days when she has no idea how she continues to function, but she puts one foot in front of the other repeatedly, doggedly, hoping against hope that something will go right for her. The odds should be in her favor, but they never seem to be. Instead, she watches as the world goes by and wonders if she’s brave enough to step back into society and join the rest of the living. She’s been in mourning for long enough.

Forty. It’s a scary number, but it’s also a little motivating. With a shake of her head, she decides. It’s time. Prim would want her to be happy. She’d be furious at the way Katniss has shut herself off from everyone in order to protect herself. If there’s anything that can drive her out of her shell, it’s thinking about the disappointment that would shine in her sister’s eyes if she were still alive.

“It’s time to rejoin the living, Everdeen.”

Her voice is small as it echoes in her empty apartment, but that’s not the intimidating part. What’s terrifying is that she has absolutely no idea how to get back out there. It’s been almost a decade since she bothered, and she can’t help wondering if maybe she’s waited too long. It’s possible there’s an expiration date, and she’s past it.

It’s late, and she’s tired. Heaving a sigh, she heads to her new bedroom and plugs in the airbed to blow it up. Her belongings won’t arrive for another few days, and the thought of sleeping on the hard floor is the reason for her last minute purchase at the local department store. Shaking out freshly laundered sheets as she retrieves them from the dryer, she inhales the clean scent and tucks the corners onto the air mattress. A pillow and blanket that made the cut when she purged her possessions before her interstate move provides a tiny hint of home. Flicking off the overhead light, she closes her eyes and drifts into sleep. She counts the fact that she only wakes from nightmares three times as a win.

****

“I like that there,” she mutters to herself as she adjusts the picture on the shelf to the left of her television. It’s her favorite of the ones she and Prim took together before her sister started med school.

They’d been so happy, arms wrapped around each other and a rare smile gracing her own lips. As it always had, Prim’s grin stretches across her face, and her blue eyes snap with excitement in the image. She deserved so much better than to become a human torch because someone was stupid enough to not know how to douse a grease fire. The senselessness of it all hits Katniss again. Someone cooked dinner, and that act killed her sister. Prim, who only wanted to heal people, died because an idiot didn’t know how to make bacon and then tried to douse the flames with water.

A knock sounds at her door and shakes her out of her reverie. She isn’t expecting anyone, but a second knock convinces her she shouldn’t ignore it. It could be her landlord, and the last thing she wants is a grumpy Haymitch Abernathy yelling at her because she’s inadvertently broken some rule she doesn’t even know exists in the first place. Tossing her braid over her left shoulder, she crosses her apartment and answers the door.

“Can I help you?”

She’s surprised she can get the words out of her mouth. The man standing there definitely isn’t her landlord, and he’s not old, grumpy, or drunk like Haymitch obviously has been every time she’s seen him. The guy standing in front of her must be about her age, maybe a few years younger, and he has shockingly blue eyes which remind her of her sister’s, as well as the same ashy blonde hair that falls in a shock of curls over his forehead. She has the sudden urge to reach up and push them back, but she keeps her hands at her sides. It would be exceptionally inappropriate to grope a total stranger, even if he is standing in her doorway with a smile and a paper bag that smells something like heaven.

“I’m Peeta. Peeta Mellark. Your next door neighbor. I brought you some pastries.”

“Pasties?” She squeaks out the word and immediately wants to smack herself. She sounds a little like a mouse, while his voice makes her insides vibrate. Also, what did she just say?

Peeta does a double take before bursting into laughter. “Pastries, not pasties. I’m not into that— Well, I mean…uh… I mean, I could be, but not the first time I meet a woman.”

His face is bright red, but hers feels like it’s flaming. She can’t believe she said that and crosses her arms unconsciously to cover her breasts before uncrossing them just as quickly. She’s not sure which is worse at drawing attention to the fact that she has nipples that pasties would cover, and… Hell, she’s spiraling.

“I’m sorry,” she babbles. “That was unseemly.”

“It’s fine. Hilarious, actually.” He grins and gives her a onceover, which makes her blush even harder.

“Well, pastries make way more sense and smell a lot better. But, why?” She’s not sure if that sounds rude or not, but it’s better than what she’s already blurted.

“I’m a baker,” he offers in explanation. “Just a little welcome to the building, uh…?”

“Uh…?”

She can’t think. He’s staring at her, and it makes her extremely uncomfortable in a very peculiar way. She’s not able to name it, but there’s something bubbling below the surface. If she concentrates really hard, she could probably identify the feeling. However, that’s not an option when Baker Boy is standing there with a perplexed look.

“You are?”

“Oh! Sorry, sorry,” she mumbles. “I’m Katniss. Katniss Everdeen. Just moved in. You probably already knew that. I, uh, thank you. This is great.”

“You’re welcome. Welcome to the building, Katniss, Katniss Everdeen. Let me know if you need anything. I always have eggs and sugar and more.”

“More?”

“Yeah. Think on it.”

With that, he disappears into his own apartment, and she’s left holding the bag. Literally.

In a trance, she crosses to her kitchen and sets the pastries down on the counter. Flustered, she pulls a bun out and sinks her teeth into a little bite of decadence that’s got to be illegal in all fifty states, Canada, Mexico, and half of Europe. It tastes so good it’s sinful. It’s doughy and filled with cheese, and she moans so loudly she wonders if he can hear her through their shared wall.

“Sweet Jesus,” she mumbles. “That’s the best thing I’ve eaten in a long time.”

She sits there with a grin on her face for a stupid amount of time before realizing she’s hungry for more, and it’s not necessarily baked goods she wants.

****

Katniss rounds the corner and smacks into a wall. With a loud oof and a screech, she flails in her attempt to stay upright and keep her groceries from falling around her. Just when she’s about to lose it all, strong arms grab her and pull her upright. Relieved, she looks up and falls into the blue pools of her neighbor’s eyes.

“Easy there,” he says with the hint of a smile. “Where’s the fire?”

She almost says, “In my pants.” She really does, but she’s made a fool out of herself enough with him already. She frees herself from his clutches and congratulates herself on remaining calm, and then she sees what he’s wearing. Which isn’t much.

“Holy hell,” she murmurs at the sight of sweat-soaked skin and form-fitting running shorts.

“Sorry. I just got back from a run.”

“I…yeah. I see that.”

She can see some other stuff, too, and it is impressive. She can’t stop looking at him. He’s absolutely gorgeous, and she’s just told herself a few days ago that she needs to get back out there and has no idea how. She did say that, and here he is. She doesn’t even have to leave her building to find an opportunity. There’s no way she’s this lucky.

“Can I help with those?” He nods at the bags she’s holding and reaches out to take the ones hanging from her wrists. He brushes her hand with his, and her insides sizzle.

“Sure.”

She’s going to seduce him. Or let him seduce her. Or get him drunk and take advantage of him. Or something.

Every single fiber in her body tingles. It feels like waking up after a decade long nap and feeling simultaneously ravenous and powerful beyond belief. As he follows her into her apartment, she scans the area and decides to just go for it. What’s the worst that can happen? Her neighbor hates her? Well, that would be terrible, but she can move. That’s how turned on she is by him. She’ll risk a broken lease.

“You can just put them there,” she says softly and runs her hand down his arm. He freezes and looks at her, and she stands her ground. Maybe she’s not thinking straight, but she wants him. Now.

“Katniss?”

She presses into him and trails a finger down her bare chest. She wipes a sweat droplet from his skin and bites her bottom lip.

“Yes, Peeta?”

“I’m not misreading this, am I?”

She wraps her arms around his neck and tips her head back. “No, I don’t think you are.”

“Fuuuuuuck,” he drawls.

Looking directly at him, she says, “I really hope so.”

“Oh, hell.”

His mouth captures hers in a searing kiss, and she turns off her brain. She has no intention of thinking, only feeling for the next however long. His tongue is in her mouth, her hands are on his ass, and his sweat dampens her clothes.

Peeta hoists her into the air and wraps her legs around his waist. He stumbles backward to deposit her on the edge of the countertop and rucks up her shirt to slide his hands along her waist. Frantic, she tugs at his waistband, indicating she’d prefer he lose the shorts, and he growls into her mouth when she slips them over his hips. She cups his backside, pulling him between her legs and moans against him.

“Please,” she gasps. “Fuck, please.”

He’s frenetic, all power and kinetic energy as he rolls her leggings down her thighs, baring her to him. When she bites his lower lip, he grunts and shoves his hands between her legs. He pushes inside her roughly, and she whimpers at his pace. His thumb’s on her clit, and his middle finger plunders her as their tongues tangle and dance together.

She’s got him in her hand, jerking and tugging as he swells in her palm. It’s a solid weight there, but she wants it inside her. She doesn’t have time to look. She’s too enthralled in what his lips are saying as they mate with hers.

Katniss tugs one of her feet free and yanks him to her with her legs. His shaft is hot against her slit. She begs for him with her hands and body, but he pulls back slightly to catch her gaze.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice ragged and broken. She nods frantically, and he moans in the back of his throat. “I’ll pull out. I promise.”

“Okay,” she agrees.

She’d agree to about anything as long as he gives it to her hard. Then he’s inside her, stretching her as she calls his name. He’s big enough that it’s uncomfortable at first, until her body adjusts to the intrusion and she’s aching for more. By the time she’s relaxed, he’s pumping into her with her name falling from his lips as he bites and licks at her jawline.

“Tug my hair,” she manages to instruct, and he yanks on her braid so hard her eyes water. It’s sexy as hell, and she grapples at his back in an attempt to pull him further inside her. He’s good at this, she realizes. Really good at it, and she thanks her lucky stars she’s the fortunate recipient of such a fantastic experience. He’s doing everything he can to make it good for her, and it really, really, really is.

What they’re doing is so messy, but she doesn’t care. She owns bleach and anti-bacterial cleaning supplies. She just purchased them, in fact, and she’s going to need all of them if the mess between her legs is any indication. She’s quickly losing control, fucking against him as hard as she can.

Skin slaps together, sweat pours off them both, and he nuzzles his face into her shirt. If they had more time, she’d take it off for him—maybe she’ll wear pasties next time just to blow his mind—but they’re careening toward a climax faster than she knows how to handle. She’s desperate for more friction, so eager that she rubs herself as his thrusts stutter and falter.

“I gotta pull out. I’m gonna— shit!”

He yanks free, and she catches the sight of him before her eyes roll back in her head. His skin is pink and glistening with moisture from her body. The first splash of his climax hits warm and wet on her leg, and she arches her back as waves roll through her. Her hand cramps as she contorts it. Her hips buck, and then she’s reaching for him. She clings as her body tenses and releases repeatedly.

When it’s over, she huffs several breaths before blinking open her eyes. Her t-shirt hem has fallen against her thigh, and it’s marked with his ejaculate, as is most of her thigh and stomach. He pants into her ear, but he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to let her go. That’s fine with her, although it surprises her how affectionate he’s being in the aftermath of a quickie in her kitchen.

“Katniss, that was—”

“Something we need to do again.”

“I think it gives new meaning to the phrase ‘welcome wagon.’”

“Because you want me to ride you next time?”

“Next time?” His eyes are blown wide, his pupils dilated as he realizes what she’s saying. “You want there to be a next time?”

“I’m not sure I want this one to be over.”

He flushes at her suggestion, but he’s a very helpful neighbor. Before he leaves to head back to his own apartment, he cleans up and then eats to his heart’s content. She’s pretty satiated from his visit, too.

[queen-scribbles]

"No matter what I'll always come after you" for Vesper?

Okay, this, as usual, ran away from me to the tune of 2300 words, but I’m not complaining.  (It does touch on game events, including the end, just so anyone wanting to avoid spoilers is aware)

----

Most children threatened to run away from home at least once. Vesper just hadn’t expected Constantin--of all people--to make good on it. (Though maybe she should’ve.) While her mother and uncle debated where he might have gone and organized searches for the palace and city proper, Vesper snuck out a side door and headed in the opposite direction, toward the meadow where they’d picnicked  few days ago. Constantin had wanted to explore more, but their governess wouldn’t let him. If he was feeling defiant enough to make good on running away, she’d bet he went back there.

And the deep footprints in the riverbank mud bore out her theory. He proved easy to find once she had his trail, headed straight for a patch of woods, though she found him more from the yelp than his trail.

A yelp that presaged his falling from the tree he’d been trying to climb.

“Constantin!” Vesper lunged forward to catch him, but thanks to the limits of ten year old legs, only sort-of managed to break his fall. (Whenever her growth spurt wanted to show up would be fine by her.) “Are you alright?!”

“What’re you doing here?” Constantin demanded instead of answering. He looked alright, if dirty and still petulant.

“Looking for you,” Vesper retorted, nudging him off so they could both sit up. “We were worried-”

“I’m not going back,” he interrupted sulkily, poking the dirt with a stick. “I’m sick of sums. And behaving myself.”

“I can tell,” she teased, brushing dirt off the knee of his breeches.  “But our parents are worried sick, and I feel like the longer it takes to find you, the more trouble you’ll be in.”

Constantin jabbed the stick more viciously into the ground at the base of an ant hill, and was silent a long moment before nodding.  “...Fine.”

Vesper helped him to his feet, brushed more dirt off his clothes. There was nothing that could be done about the scrape on his forearm, or the ripped sleeve that hung around it, however.

They were halfway home before he took her hand and mumbled a slightly grudging, “Thanks for coming after me.”

Vesper smiled. “Always.”

----

Raised voices had become so commonplace in the family portions of the house, Vesper barely batted an eye at the muffled strains of the Prince in contention with someone yet again. She knew who it likely was even before hearing Constantin’s protesting retort. She knew how this would go, too, and finished the current page of her book, setting it aside with a sigh.

As usual, her uncle’s voice rose in both volume and quantity of words until she could almost make out the words of his tirade from three rooms down the hall. As usual, there was a long, rebellious pause, then Constantin’s voice so low she barely picked up the murmur of it, then a slammed door. As usual, Vesper counted to twenty, then went after him. As usual, he was on the balcony that looked toward the harbor, sitting on the ground with his back against the wall.

“Should have known you’d come after me, with a row like that,” Constantin said without looking.

“Always,” Vesper said lightly. “You alright?”

He shrugged, gaze fixed toward the horizon.

She waited him out, knowing the words would come.

“It’s never good enough for him,” Constantin finally spat. “I’m never good enough. Everything I do, Ves. It’s always just a little wrong, or falls just a little short, or a little too embarrassing, or I’m a disgrace to the family name! He’s never happy!”

“He does ask a lot from you,” Vesper agreed softly, because it was true. Knowing her uncle had reasons for his high standards--the family’s position, Constantin being his heir--didn’t negate how impossibly high the bar seemed some days.

Especially with it being set for Constantin. Who liked to flirt with the wrong people and fight with the wrong people and never really could seem to hold his tongue.

But he didn’t need censure or critique now, not from her, he needed a listening ear. So that’s what she did. She listened. She sympathized. And she let him calm down from the heights of ranting before she even suggested heading back inside.

She was stiff from sitting on the ground so long, but seeing him smile again was worth it.

----

The air around the tavern stank of cheap beer and vomit, which was better than most nights. Vesper wrinkled her nose and tried to ignore it. Damn Constantin for choosing this one, though he’d likely done so banking on the knowledge she’d be reluctant to follow him here alone. Unfortunately for him, if that had been his thought process, it hadn’t taken much to convince Kurt to come with her. (It may have involved the words ‘I’m going regardless’ from her, and grousing from Kurt, but she knew, despite his grumbling, he liked her and Constantin more than he’d admit. Hence him following her to four other taverns before this one.)

They’d barely taken two steps inside when the unmistakable sound of Constantin singing reached their ears, and Vesper groaned.

“I won’t tell the prince where we found him if you don’t,” Kurt muttered behind her.

Vesper’s mouth twisted in a wry smile. “Oh, my lips are sealed, it’s his I’m worried about.”

Kurt just grunted in response to that, and the two of them made their way through the crowd until they found her wayward cousin.

“Vesper!” Constantin grinned when he saw her. Not drunk yet, but on the way. “Didn’t think you liked places like this, cousin.” He gestured broadly at the surroundings, sloshing his drink over the table. Well on the way to drunk, then.

She forced a smile. “Oh, but you know I’ll always come after you, dear cousin, no matter what it takes.” Even visiting shady taverns our parents would kill the both of us for patronizing.

He laughed and took a deep drink before slouching back in the chair. “Are y’ here to join me or drag me home?”

“The latter, I’m afraid,” Vesper said lightly. Her uncle was on his way home from some diplomatic summit and would be in a foul temper if his son was missing upon returning. She needed to get Constantin home and sleeping off this afternoon’s escapades. “Though I do hope there will be no actual dragging involved.”

Constantin’s gaze flicked to where Kurt stood behind her, arms crossed, and grinned again. “Backup, Vesper? Worried you can’t corral me on your own anymore?”

His tone was playful, but she knew how swiftly that could change when he was in a mood, and she chose her words accordingly. “Two pairs of eyes are better than one, and it is part of his job to watch out for us. I was worried, cousin. You’ve been gone most of the day.” She left off they’d been looking for him almost half of that time.

“Afraid I got kidnapped or broke my neck?” Constantin teased, taking another drink.

“Among other fates," Vesper said with an easy laugh. Both of those are actual possibilities with you. “You know I have a vivid imagination.”

He laughed as well, loud and tipsy, and leaned forward to clumsily pat her hand. “As you can see, I’m fine, dear cousin.”

“Yes, it does appear you had an enjoyable afternoon,” she agreed, deciding she didn’t want to know the origin of the stains on his shirt and coat. Or where his hat ended up. (If he had even worn one.) “My mother’s fretting herself silly about you, though, Constantin, what say we head home and put her mind at ease?”

He took long enough to answer she was afraid he’d dig in his heels and she’d have to have Kurt yank him out of the chair. But he rolled his eyes and pushed the nearly-empty tankard across the table. “Oh, fine. Wouldn’t do to have my beloved auntie worrying herself sick.”

He stumbled getting to his feet, and Kurt grabbed his arm to keep him upright.

“Thank you,” Constantin slurred, leaning against him heavily. (He’d been closer to drunk than she thought, apparently.)

“Just doin’ my job,” Kurt said with a grunt, accepting the inevitable and tugging Constantin’s arm around his shoulders as they headed for the door. He shot Vesper a look she’d almost call impressed.  “Nice going. You’ve got a way with words.”

Vesper bit back a laugh as she pushed open the door. “Thank you. I have to counter my abysmal showing with a blade somehow.”

Kurt chuckled, and she caught the faint flash of a smile before he bit it back.  “You’re still learning, Green Blood. Give it time.”

“That does help with a lot,” she said, glancing at her thoroughly inebriated cousin. Hopefully time would help smooth away some of his more worrisome habits.

At the very least, though, it would help with his hangover.

----

One thing that came in handy, with how often Vesper found herself in these scenarios, Constantin was loud. He was loud when he was celebrating, loud when he was complaining, and he was loud now.

Vesper could hear him hollering demands and derisions at his captors well before she and Kurt reached the warehouse where he was being held.

“D’you think there’s any chance of this becoming a less frequent occurrence when we reach the island?” she asked as she scanned the building for discreet ways in.

Kurt pressed his lips together--whether biting back a smile at her question or annoyance at her cousin, she couldn’t tell--and shrugged. “Only time will tell, I suppose.”

Vesper bobbed her head to concur with his assessment and resumed searching for a way in. Fortunately, it proved easier than anticipated to sneak inside the building. She’d rather not incite a brawl just before leaving Sérène. It was equally easy to follow Constantin’s yelling to the room serving as his makeshift cell.

“Constantin, shhh!” Vesper hissed against the keyhole.

There was silence, then, slightly quieter and much more effusive, “Ah, cousin, there you are! I knew you’d show!”

“We can’t leave without you, Governor D’Orsay,” Vesper reminded him as she examined the lock. “And you know I’d come after you anyway.”

“Always.” There was a grin in Constantin’s voice. “If you’re looking for the key, I believe one of the rapscallions mentioned a desk?”

That was indeed its hiding place. And she found his effects in the trunk beside it to boot. Her cousin was almost giddy as he burst from the small room the moment the key turned in the lock.

“That’s more like it!” he crowed, clapping her on the back and nodding toward Kurt. “Thank you ever so much for the rescue, dearest cousin and loyal Captain. Now” --he snatched his hat from pile in Vesper’s arms-- “let’s go have an adventure, shall we?”

She schooled away a smile at his enthusiasm and held his coat out of reach. “Constantin? Remember how we discussed Teer Fradee being an opportunity for a fresh start? Please endeavor to keep that in mind.”

“Yes, of course, dear cousin.” He darted forward to grab his coat and she let him have it. He pulled it on and whirled around with a flourish. “We shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

Vesper shook her head and smiled as she tugged him toward the route she and Kurt had used to enter. While somehow Constantin’s enthusiasm managed to make more noise than Kurt’s armor, they did make it back out unchallenged. She grabbed Constantin’s arm to tug him toward where Captain Vasco waited.

Her cousin was right about one thing--they’d delayed long enough.

---

The winged form of the High King came crashing to the ground with her second to last round through his throat. Vesper ignored the still twitching body. Kurt or Sìora could check he was actually dead, she only cared about Constantin.

Her saber clattered against the stony ground as she lunged toward the half-constructed cairn around her cousin and started pulling it apart with her bare hands. Once free enough, Constantin slumped limply against her chest and Vesper held him close.

“...Vesper?” he mumbled, barely audible, through lips chapped and scarred by the malichor and heaven only knew what else.

“I’m here,” she said, voice shaking with relief they gotten here in time. “I come after you no matter what, remember?”

There was no reply, the weight of him heavy against her chest, but she could still feel him breathing.

“Hold on, cousin,” she murmured. He was so quiet, so still. They needed to get him to a healer.

There was a hand on her shoulder and Kurt crouched next to her. “Green Blood.”

Because it was Kurt, Vesper didn’t try to hide the lingering worry in her eyes as she released her hold on Constantin so Kurt could take him for the journey down the mountain.

She tried not to let King Vinbarr’s words echo too loudly in her head as she and Sìora followed, tried not to let the foreboding take root, but the sheer desperation in the man’s voice still left a seed.

“He will be the end of us all!”

---

The trek up through Anemhaid was made all the more difficult by the heartsick dread steadily building in her chest, but Vesper made it. Alone; her companions stayed to help their people, and her heart was stuck at the bottom of the mountain. (Don’t be a hero, she’d said, knowing full well he would anyway because he couldn’t help himself, knowing she’d have to do the same.)

She didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to be doing this.

She finally slowed as she reached the main cavern, saw her cousin’s familiar silhouette.

“Vesper.” Constaintin almost smiled as he turned. “I knew you’d come.”

“Of course I did, cousin.” Vesper swallowed hard, chest tight, and rested one hand on the hilt of her pistol. She hoped against hope she wouldn’t need it, but the dreadful knot in her gut and strange glow in his eyes promised she would.  “No matter what, I always come after you.”

[wallgirl]

The Little Nereid Part 10

Record of Ragnarok fanfiction

Poseidon x OC

Word count: 3,100

Dynamene, youngest of the 50 Nereids, has lived most of her adolescence as a servant alongside her sisters at Poseidon’s palace. But with her coming-of-age birthday and other developments, what she initially thought was just admiration of her master blossoms into something stronger and more passionate… and painful.

Categories and warnings: Romance, angst, unrequited love, coming-of-age, earn-your-happy-ending, slow-burn (ish); no sexual content. There will be some graphic violence in the future.

Updated regularly, twice a week; will have about ?16? parts total.

---

Three long banquet tables took up the middle of the palace's dining hall. The middle table was reserved for the family and their close friends; the other tables were filled by guests of every sort. Each table was piled high with mountains of mouth-watering dishes; quail and fish; breads and pastries; olives and cheese. Gilded bowls of fresh fruit grown in the neighboring orchards and gardens were being served by dryads, and the satyrs went around with large jugs of wine, ensuring that no one's glass went unfilled.

Dynamene, now dressed in her finest golden peplos and her ceremonial coral wreath, made her way through the high-spirited crowd. After stopping to exchange bows and pleasantries with a faun she'd attended school with as a small child, she heard someone call her name. Turning around, she saw Thoe waving her over to a chair at the main table.

"Your seat's here next to me. You know, since we're seated in birth order," Thoe sighed as Dynamene took her chair. "I don't miss having to sit in order like this."

"What, don't like being reminded you're one of the youngest too?" Dynamene laughed.

"I am still nearly four centuries older than you, and don't you forget it!" Thoe protested, jabbing at her lightly.

"Well, since you're the second youngest of us thirteen here tonight, I suppose you're stuck next to me." Dynamene craned her head to look towards the front of the room. "Where are Mother and Father?"

"Ianeira said they'd be out any minute. Everyone else should be taking their seats soon..."

As if on cue, everyone still on their feet scrambled to their seats. The satyrs hurried to top up the last of the glasses before chugging down the remaining wine in the jugs for themselves. The eleven other Nereids present quickly made their way to the table, talking in excited whispers. "They're coming," Ianeira announced as she took her seat close to the head of the table.

Two figures appeared at the entrance at the front of the great hall, and the crowd's clamor dimmed to a murmur. Nereus and Doris, the esteemed father and mother of the Nereids, had made their appearance at last.

They were both tall and statuesque, though the similarities ended there. Nereus was an imposing man with a kind face, his smile largely hidden behind a vast beard that fell nearly halfway down his broad chest. He rose one hand in greeting to his guests, who called back their approval. "Greetings, my esteemed guests; my dearest of friends; and, of course, my beloved daughters. We are beyond honored to share our hospitality with you tonight."

Doris beamed at her daughters, her dark eyes crinkling warmly. Her long black hair fell in spirited waves and curls to her thighs, decorated on top with a coral hairpiece that matched theirs. "We are gathered here this evening to rejoice; thirteen of our beautiful daughters have returned home to celebrate Dynamene's coming-of-age. Please join us in filling this evening with merriment beyond heart's measure!" She rose her glass in a toast, and the rest of the hall joined her with cheer.

The opening speech given, the crowd returned to socializing. Doris and Nereus made their way to their gilded thrones at the head of the family table.

"More and more beautiful every year," Doris sighed contentedly, looking at her daughters with pride. "I am so glad to see you again, loves. It's so quiet here with you all away."

"I don't know about that; Nerites almost makes enough noise to make up for it," laughed Nereus merrily.

"That's not true!" Nerites protested from the other end of the table. He looked up from the kabob of roasted fish he was chewing. "I make more than enough noise."

The family erupted with laughter at his unexpectedly peeved retort. "I jest, Nerites," Nereus soothed. "You're the noisiest lad on the coast; I promise."

"Especially on days your father and I are trying to sleep in," Doris added smoothly, passing a plate of poached figs to her husband.

"Aye, and the days we're not trying to sleep in, too," Nereus whispered boldly, winking saucily at her. Dynamene nearly choked on her wine as her older sisters laughed at his raunchy remark. Doris threw a grape at him playfully.

"Mind your manners, or we'll be sleeping in separate suites entirely tonight, and it won't matter either way."

"Ah, just having a bit of a laugh, my love." Nereus brushed her hair back affectionately. "But your mother is right; it's not the same here with all of you girls gone. Too bad the rest couldn't come as well."

"I'm surprised Poseidon agreed to let thirteen of us come to begin with," Actaea said, swirling her wine thoughtfully.

"He does have business elsewhere, so he doesn't need all of us tending the palace as usual," Ianeira replied. "Honestly, though, he could have let all of us come and things wouldn't change at all. It's not like anyone else would be there to make a mess."

"Mm, quite right." Thoe took a dainty bite from a pear. "I'm sure he wants to keep the rest there just to prove he can. Another status symbol."

Dynamene stared at her plate. I'm sure he's not doing it just out of spite.

"Do you want something else to eat, Dynamene?" Doris asked. "I know lobster isn't your favorite. Do you want to try some quail?"

"Oh, no," Dynamene rushed, holding up her hands. "Just lost in thought. I've grown more fond of lobster lately, to be honest; especially with lime sauce."

Doris tutted fondly. "Finally getting a taste for shellfish; you really have come-of-age, haven't you?"

Ianeira watched quietly for a moment, then spoke up. "Mother, do you think I could speak to you in private later tonight?"

Doris looked up in concern. "Of course, dearest; is everything alright? Is it something we should speak about right away?"

"No, it's not urgent," Ianeira said. "Just something that's been worrying me." Her gaze lingered on Dynamene, who took notice, before quickly darting away.

Again with that strange air of secretiveness... But what does it mean? Dynamene pondered for a moment.

Oh, well. I suppose if it involves me, I'll find out sooner or later. She reached out to try a bit of quail. Lobster still really wasn't quite her favorite.

---

Some hours later, the feast had ended and the guests had dispersed. Dynamene had retired to take a soothing bath in the wide tub of the grand bath. Worn out from the long day, and stuffed to bursting with delicious food, it felt wonderful to let herself relax in the hot salt water. It wasn't long before she began to feel sleepy, and she knew it was time to head to bed.

Freshly bathed, and with her damp hair hanging loose, she put on a fresh chiton that smelled of the ocean outside. She felt so much more relaxed since they'd arrived at home. She left the bathroom and wandered down the dimly lit halls to her childhood bedroom. The gentle orange glow of the torches set a warm, soft light everywhere it touched. Her bare feet weren't cold against the ground here, unlike with the cold marble at Poseidon's palace. It would be nice to sleep in her old bed again tonight.

She was almost to her room when she heard quiet voices coming from Ianeira's room. She paused, remembering Ianeira's request to their mother. Surely she was hearing them talk about whatever it was that troubled Ianeira.

She hesitated outside the door. It wasn't right for her to eavesdrop, but when she remembered that had persisted since her sisters' meeting with Poseidon, she couldn't bring herself to walk away. Brushing her hair away from her ear, she leaned in to listen.

"...worried about her, lately. It wouldn't be a concern if you hadn't sent us to a place like that in the first place. I just don't understand. Why?"

Ianeira's tone was rather vulnerable, now that she was speaking in private with her mother. It took Dynamene by surprise; for so long, Ianeira had been the one guiding the rest of them, and now here she was herself seeking counsel with her mother.

"We sent you to Poseidon's palace to broaden your prospects," Doris answered firmly. "To give you opportunities you could never have here. Your father and I are rather ancient by the rest of the pantheon's standards, and our influence has already peaked long ago. It was our hope that, by sending you to serve Poseidon, that you might meet others, gain an education, and make your own way in the world."

"The tutors were top-class," Ianeira admitted. "But Poseidon himself is a geyser, just waiting to blow. Don't you remember what he did to Adamas? Ripped him in half without a second thought. We were there, serving him, when that happened, remember? We saw the body, Mother. I can still hear the screams some nights..."

"I think about it more than I ought to," Doris whispered. "And I am sorry that you had to witness it. It was an unspeakable act. But I don't believe for one second that he would ever harm any of you."

"It matters not what you believe! I don't want to risk that happening to Dynamene! If he was capable of doing that to his own brother on a whim, what would he do to her?" Ianeira cried.

Doris sighed. "Your father and I have always had faith that Poseidon would never lay a hand on any of you. All fifty of you are clever and resourceful; we know you would never tempt fate with him. And he would never tempt fate with you."

Ianeira laughed humorlessly. "Tempt fate? Oh, Mother, if only you knew."

"I don't understand, Ianeira. Why are you afraid for Dynamene? What do you fear Poseidon is going to do?"

"It's more about what Dynamene might do at the moment, Mother," Ianeira said, her voice defeated. "You see... Dynamene is infatuated with Poseidon."

 One could have heard a pin drop. Dynamene clapped her hand over her mouth, hiding her gasp of shock. How long had they known about her feelings for Poseidon?

"...She has always been a passionate girl," Doris murmured. "Always a bit of a romantic. But, I suppose, this really isn't so surprising of a development. Of the fifty of you, one of you was bound to become enamored with him."

"I'm worried for her, Mother," Ianeira whispered. "She's still so young; she's still a child in so many ways. I don't know what to do."

"Dynamene is at that strange stage where she has the desires of a woman, but the reasoning of a child. She is inexperienced. It will just take time; she will grow and learn."

"But that's what I'm worried about, Mother!" Ianeira pleaded. "She's already so infatuated with him, and this is Poseidon! If, in time, she really does fall in love with him, and he lays claim to her - what can we do to protect her from him? She'll become his consort, and then..."

"Dynamene is still too young to truly know romantic love. I assure you, dearest, what Dynamene feels right now is just a passing fancy. Poseidon is a powerful god, and he is handsome; I would be more surprised if she did not develop an attraction to him. But Poseidon is infamously cold and stoic. Nothing will come of it, you have my word."

That stung. Dynamene winced, her face flushing with humiliation. It was uncomfortably jarring to hear her family speak candidly about her innermost feelings this way.

"I don't want to risk that! Dynamene is around him all the time, as we all are, serving him at the palace. Please, just request that Dynamene remain home longer, even if only for a year. If it's truly a mere crush, then her feelings for him should fizzle out by then."

What? The gears in Dynamene's mind began to turn rapidly. Ianeira was asking Doris to keep her here even longer...

Almost as if the whole point of the trip had been to get her away from Poseidon.

Dynamene swallowed hard, feeling a surge of angry betrayal wash over her. Her clenched fists had begun to shake. She resisted the urge to barge in; they were still speaking, and she wanted to listen until the end.

Doris was quiet. "I will consider it. But the thirteen of you have only just got here today; it could very well be the case that, by the time the month is up, Dynamene's attention will be on someone else."

Dynamene heard Ianeira exhale. "Thank you, Mother. I just... I just want her to be safe."

"I understand, my child," Doris comforted her. "But have faith; everything will turn out just fine."

Dynamene couldn't stand to listen to anymore. She ran to her room and slammed the door shut, angry tears forming in her eyes.

They had known. They had known this entire time how she felt. And now, instead of supporting her, or even just hearing her out about her feelings, they were trying to keep the two of them apart. Her sisters, the people she trusted most in the whole world, had betrayed her trust.

Any joy she'd felt from their homecoming dispersed within her chest, replaced by the hot, prickling sensation of rage. How could they do this? She wasn't only angry at them; she was angry at herself, too. How could I have been so blind?  She asked herself angrily. Of course they'd never accept my feelings for Poseidon. If one thing's clear now, it's that they hate him. They've never spoken to him the way I have. They've no idea.

I never wanted to stay here for a month from the start, let alone a year. By the time we go back to the palace, the council of the gods will have taken place, and Hera will have done her best to force someone else upon Poseidon. I won't let that happen. I'll do whatever it takes to go back before then.

A gentle rap on her shut door broke her out of her angry reverie. She didn't bother to check who it was before shouting, "Go away!"

But of course, the door opened anyway, revealing the last person she wanted to see: Ianeira.

"Leave me alone," Dynamene snapped at her.

Ianeira stared at her in shock. "What's gotten into you? I just came to check on you. Is something the matter?"

Perhaps now wasn't the right time to break out into a fury. Dynamene unclenched her jaw and took a breath. "No, I'm sorry for snapping. I just have a headache."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Ianeira said, coming to sit next to her. She reached out to stroke her sister's hair, but Dynamene pulled away.

"Well, I'll keep things brief then," Ianeira started over. "We had a good time today, didn't we?"

"Yes," Dynamene muttered as she looked away. It was going great until now.

"I know how refreshing it is to be here at home. It's where we belong, really, although with how much time we've spent at Poseidon's palace, it can be hard to remember."

Dynamene was silent, knowing where her sister's words were leading to and loathing it. Ianeira carefully ventured onwards. "So... How would you like to take the year off and stay here, at home?"

Dynamene looked at Ianeira with loathing in her eyes. "So you can keep me away from Poseidon a little longer?"

Ianeira's mouth fell open, but no words came out.

Dynamene jumped to her feet, unable to rein in her rage any longer. "You can't even deny it, can you?! That this whole trip was a ruse to get me away from him! Is that the real reason why you left me out of the audience?"

"Why... How on earth could you possibly know that?" Ianeira shot back, standing up.

"I have a predisposition to eavesdropping, I guess," Dynamene clenched her fists. "I heard what you were saying to Mother. How dare you decide what's best for me like that?! You haven't even asked me about any of it!"

"About what? Your infatuation with a madman?!" Ianeira yelled back. Her eyes were snapping with long-repressed frustration and anger, and Dynamene couldn't help but shirk back. "You think I haven't lost sleep, worrying about this? And now you want me to compromise with you over it?!"

"How dare you say that!" Angry tears threatened to overflow from Dynamene's eyes. "I don't need you deciding what's right for me! I've already made up my mind; I want to stay with him! I want to be with him!"

"Be with him?! Are you insane, Dynamene?!" Ianeira threw her arms up in disbelief. "You want to be with the man who tore his own brother apart without a second glance? Is that the same fate you want, once he decides you too don't meet his standards?!"

"He would never do that to me!" Dynamene cried, clutching her bracelet. "He wouldn't! Even when he caught me spying, he-"

"He what?" Ianeira's voice went deadly quiet. "You did what?"

"I..." Dynamene knew she had made a mistake, and she looked down.

"You spied on him? Why?! Are you even thinking?! If Mother and Father knew-"

"I had to know what he was talking about with Hera! I don't want him to be with anyone else; I love him! I love him!" Dynamene's voice cut off as she began to sob with abandon. "Please, don't tell them! They'll never let me-"

"How could you say you love him?! He has no heart! He cares for no one, not even us!" Ianeira hurled. Her hair was steaming with rage. "You're not even thinking, taking risks like that! There's no way you're returning to that palace! You're still a child; Poseidon will ruin you! I won't let him do that to you; not you, or any of my sisters!" Her shouts echoed in the small room.

"You can't stop me!" Something within Dynamene had snapped. "I'm not a child anymore, and you don't control me!" She threw open the windows and let the night wind pour in, billowing about her. The black seawater swirled many feet below.

"Wait, Dynamene, don't!" Ianeira cried out, reaching for her.

Dynamene dove headfirst out the window without a second glance. She plunged into the cold ocean water below, the thin fabric of her chiton swirling about her.

I won't sit by and let others decide my life for me! They could never know how I feel. They won't even try to understand. Tears drifted from her eyes, leaving a trail of bubbles in her wake. That's just fine. I'll take things into my own hands. I'll find a way; I will.

Dynamene let her body disperse into the water, swimming away as fast as she could into the dark waters of the night.

---

Author’s Notes: This part has taken me the longest thus far now. I gave myself time to recharge before finishing it because I wanted the emotions to be strong. Can't do that if I'm suffering writer fatigue. I watched part of The Little Mermaid and felt ready to continue. Here we are!

Can you blame Dynamene, Ianeira? Have you LOOKED at Poseidon, I mean REALLY LOOKED? Man's got the looks of an angel. Too bad his personality doesn't match.

The parts now have names (on ao3)! We're at part 10 now; I thought names might help tell them apart. No spoilers in them, but descriptive enough that people who have already read them will hopefully be able to tell which is which.

Nereid birth order:

Ianeira - 1

Actaea - 6

Callianassa - 23

Eione - 27

Thoe - 41

Dynamene - 50

[behindheremeraldeyes]

sasusaku month 2021

day 1- glances

title: I see you

summary: high school AU— they’re in the middle of biology class when Uchiha Sasuke realizes that there are way more interesting things that deserve his full attention. [Ao3] [ffnet]

.

.

.

He’s doing it again.

From the corner of his eyes, he can see as she eagerly writes down her notes on her biology book. She uses her small fingers to tug a stubborn strand of her pink hair that has been falling forward since first period, and he watches as the sunlight highlights her soft skin. An absent smile graces her lips, and he supposes it’s because she’s enjoying whatever it is that their teacher is saying. He hasn’t been paying attention to the class for a while now, his concentration completely switched to the girl sitting next to him. Last time he checked, though, they were discussing genetics. Or could it be fungus? He doesn’t know.

Lately, he’s been doing that a lot— the whole staring thing, that is. Though unaware, at first, now he knows exactly when his attention drifts towards her. It happens when he’s at ease or when anxiety is starting to grow inside him. When he’s calm and relaxed; or when he finds himself in need of a familiar face not to blow it all away.

Sakura has this effect on him. Even without really saying or doing anything, her sole presence is enough to warm his chest. It’s as natural as the clouds floating in the sky, and sometimes, when they’re not in the same room, he finds himself missing her figure. With her green eyes and pink hair, she has become a constant presence in his life, and if anything, Sasuke likes constant. Always has.

He also likes her, but that’s not been questioned right now.

He’s acknowledged his feelings for her for almost three months now, and he figures he’s still trying to get used to the idea of seeing her as more than just his best friend. It’s not that their relationship has changed that much from what it was before, but everything around her just feels different ever since Naruto pointed out the obvious. Sasuke has accepted this new side of him, and perhaps, the biggest change in his young life is the fact that he has to constantly remind himself that he no longer needs silly excuses to hide his feelings for her. He has to keep telling himself that it’s not an absurd for a boy like him to consider making a move in a girl like her. He can dare to reach out for her hand or— if he’s feeling bold enough, and the situation calls for it— kiss her lips.

It’s weird to even think about doing that to the girl who has been by his side since they were in dippers. She‘s still the same Sakura, but now that he has allowed himself to picture them together, she’s just different. He’s different, too, and he can’t really say he hates it. Quite the opposite, in fact.

And right now, while he’s still trapped in his thoughts, he also has to remind himself that staring at her is not as creepy as it would be if he was just a stranger.

It isn’t, right?

Perhaps he should stop, then. Or maybe—

His thoughts are suddenly interrupted as a folded piece of white paper shows up on his desk. He quirks his right brow in confusion, and without thinking twice, his eyes drift to Naruto because— well— who else would’ve thrown that at him in the middle of the class, right? However, much to his surprise, his blonde best friend couldn’t have done such a thing, no. He’s fast asleep on his desk across the classroom, and the Uchiha is almost sure he can see drool sliding down his open mouth.

That loser, he thinks. If he’s not going to pay attention to the class, he might as well try to pretend otherwise in order to avoid a future lecture. Maybe he really deserves it, after all.

Still, if the idiot didn’t throw the folded paper, then who did it?

He arcs his brows again, and before trying to reach another conclusion based solely on his speculations, Sasuke decides to read the hidden note. Carefully, then, he unfolds the paper, only to be surprised by the familiar and delicate handwriting in it.

“Shouldn’t you be paying attention to the class?”

A smirk crosses his lips as he reads those words, and he knows he’s been busted. Dark eyes, then, turn to his right only to find green ones already staring back at him. She offers him a teasing smile, using her index finger to point towards the blackboard, to which he simply shrugs. Apparently, Sakura has caught him staring for a little too long, and if he were to be honest, he’s glad she did because now he has an excuse to silently flirt with her.

Now, he has an excuse to observe and to be observed by her emerald eyes.

If he had to pick, that’s probably one of his favorite activities of the day now that he has decided to build up some courage to make a move. He likes to tease her without using words just to see all of her unique reactions flourishing. He likes to see the many shades of red that tinge her cheeks whenever she’s embarrassed and the way she sometimes has to cover her mouth to suppress a loud laugh. He likes when she bites her lower lip whenever she’s thinking about something, and he sure as hell loves it when he sees one of her soft smiles slowly making its way up to her bright eyes.

She really is the cutest girl he knows. Not that he will ever admit that to her.

Without thinking twice then, he grabs his black pen and rips a piece of paper from his notebook. He scribbles around, folds it and expertly throws it so their secret lands on her desk. She spares him a knowing look before unfolding it, and he watches as she silently grows embarrassed at his written words. Her cheeks are flushed pink, and the pout that takes over her lips is enough to tell him his silly message worked. It was just a regular compliment, but he knows she’s never been good with those ever since he called her annoying on second grade.

One would say he’s to be blamed for her complex, but he likes to think he has only helped her develop one of her unique traits.

Sakura shakes her pink head, then, and he watches as she rips another piece of paper so they can continue their sneaky conversation. They certainly look like children right now, especially since they both know they can just pick their phones from their pockets and text each other. It would be easier, sure, but not half as fun.

“Very charming. Still, you’ll need more than, that if you want my notes!” is her answer, with an exclamation mark written with a big dot on the bottom, and he pretends to be taken aback by those words. She’s still blushing, he can tell, and he feels oddly proud for that. Maybe he shouldn’t, though, because he knows she dreams of becoming a great doctor someday and she just loves biology so so much that, perhaps, he should really just leave her to her studies.

But it’s stronger than him. Having her reactions and her attention all to himself makes him selfish, and even if he hates to act differently than what he’s used to, he doesn’t complain one bit when he does that for her.

It’s all for her. All because of her.

He’s but a teenager living his first love, and that alone should give him the right to enjoy this fleeting phase next to her. People say it’s the best moment of life, and even if he doesn’t know wether it’s true or not, he’s ready to, at least, try to make the best of it.

So, yes, Sasuke is going to keep sending her notes during her favorite class if they make her smile. He’s going to keep choosing the right words to make her blush and he’s going to keep stealing glances, hoping to be caught, until the day comes when he doesn’t really have to steal anymore.

fin

——-—

a/n: okay, first of all, HAPPY SASUSAKU MONTH, y’all! Here’s to another wonderful month filled with love and sasusaku! Let’s all have fun and celebrate our beloved ship! Now, to the story... honestly, I hate it so much. I think this is one of the worst things I’ve ever written, but at least, it’s over now. Nothing came to me when working with this theme and I really just wanted to move on with this already. I thought about writing something about Sasuke making amends with his newfound love for Sakura in a high school setting, but it’s just meh. Sorry for that. It’ll get better, I promise XD Still, hope you have fun!

[hopekiedokie]

Mall is Life | INTRO : She’s Broke, He’s Broke, We’re All Broke!

Summary: Your dad thinks it’s best for you to pay off the credit card that you just maxed out. Meaning, it’s time for you to finally get your very first job…at the mall. As a true blue spoiled daughter from a very rich family, what could possibly happen? Form a labour union and overthrow the oppressive government with 7 other underpaid and overworked guys??? Or maybe just form a bond with them and have the best time of your life?

Pairing: bts x reader

Genre: mall!au, lowkey a sitcom, fluff, eventual angst, and a whole lot of pure crack

Word count: 5.3k+

Notes: As I’m doing final rewrites for this, I overheard my co-teacher call one of our students a “crack” and I honestly have never related hard to a student. Anyways, transferring this from gdocs to tumblr took sooooo long. I literally aged 10 years. I didn’t think writing in this style would be such a pain so I really do hope you enjoy this! Keep safe and hang on while the world still seems like it’s on its way to destruction.

Posted on: 8th of Jan, 2021

— • masterlist | Character Guide | INTRO | next • —

Red

Red is all you see.

Your vision has been clouded by the colour red since the moment you stepped inside the mall.

Sale season is upon you and red tags are everywhere!

Buy one get one for a girlfriend sized “boyfriend t-shirt”, a free cookie if you get 7 drinks, 5% off on your next purchase from Kucci and… Gasp! 75% off for a light sabre handheld immersion blender???

Do you even cook or watch Star Trek or whatever it’s called? Heck no.

bUT IT’S MORE THAN HALF OFF and it looks cool so might as well get it.

Right?

You saunter off towards the sights of free or marked down signs to start making damages.

“Ehem.”

The sound of your best friend, Taehyung’s voice, freezes you in place and you feel like a kid caught in the act of stealing a candy.

Literally, you have both your hands in front of you with your mouth open and watering.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” His hands are placed on his hips, like a slightly inconvenienced Karen.

“Oh, uh...I was just, you know!? About to admire the general splendour!”

He was like, ya right sweetie.

“Shut up. This isn’t a Jane Austen book.”

Well, one can dream.

And lowkey, you were kinda expecting him to not get the reference.

…or even understand what you just said.

Damn.

You really need to give Taehyung some credit.

He is after all, your best friend and that is an achievement in itself.

“Focus, y/n. FOCUS. We’re here on a mission, don’t get distracted.”

Ugh, right.

Reality hit you again like a ton of bricks.

“And as if you can afford anything! Unless, you’re in for some service water.”

You scoff hard.

Though he isn’t lying.

See, the thing is, your family is rich.

Like rich 𝑹𝑰𝑪𝑯.

Like “rent a whole stadium for your dad’s morning run” rich

You, alone, though?

ʰᵉ ʰᵉ ʰᵉ

“Sorry, you’re absolutely right. We’re here for one thing only and that is to find a job! We’re not leaving until we get one.”

And that’s what you did for the next two hours

Job hunting

You might be wondering, “If we're so rich then why are we looking for a job?”

Well kids, let me tell you a quick story.

Here’s what happened

A week ago, you had probably the most embarrassing yet most eye opening experience of your life.

You were shopping

(like duh do you have anything else to do?)

And your credit card got…

Wait for it…

…………….

🚫DECLINED🚫

◉.◉

Like, that can happen????

Next thing you know, you’re on the phone with your dad and he is MAD

You don’t even know why he is so pressed about it.

Okay, so you maxed out one of his seemingly endless supply of credit cards.

BIG DEAL.

It’s not like he lost a bunch of money.

Maybe to a normal person, yeah…

BUT to you guys?

Come on! He can earn that money back in like two days.

Besides, he always goes on saying that he'd willingly give everything for you, his one and only princess.

bUT NOoOOoo! He has to teach you to be rEsPoNsIbLe with money! You need to be a 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏.

"What? You think I'm a money making machine here?"

Well, tbh he kinda is.

"You think money grows on trees?"

Well, technically, money is paper so...ya it kinda does.

"I don't slave around just so you could plunge yourself in all of your whims!"

Uh, actually.

You kinda do though if we refer back to your whole willingly-give-everything-to-you shtick.

So that wasn't real, huh?

ＡＬＬ ＭＥＮ ＤＯ ＩＳ ＬＩＥ.

smh

Taehyung, on the other hand...

Well, his mother’s old but rich sugar daddy just recently passed away and unfortunately all his money and prized possessions were inherited by his one and only beloved son.

All they got was a couple of stupid jewelry, which did allow them to pay for a new (less glamorous) apartment, but still

Eh.

What a complete disappointment.

11+ years of being a sugar baby, all for nothing.

So now it’s back to the slums for the both of them.

Sad reacs for a fallen warrior.

I’m talking about Tae’s mother, not the sugar daddy...

THOUGh rip for him. Uh,,,,

He’ll be missed? I guess???

(1 like of this post = 1 respect for him)

DW about his mother though. She doesn’t seem quite fazed by it.

“This is why if you find a rich old bastard, make sure he doesn’t have any kids. That or have an affair with their kid. Oh well, on to the next one.” She told you and Tae during the funeral.

It’s been three months since.

She’s currently working at a hair salon and also,,,,

Taehyung thinks she’s seeing someone again cause she’s been using her designated “𝑠𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔” parfum.

WHICH you still don’t know if you should be impressed or be concerned about.

Nonetheless, you respect the hustle of this woman. ✊✊✊✊

Unfortunately, her efforts are still not enough to satisfy their expensive needs so that brings us to the present situation.

Actually, it couldn’t have been more perfect though!

You and your best friend coincidentally just happen to be in the same dilemma.

Kind of

Well, not really

Plus, it’s not really the most pleasant circumstance bUT STILL

The point is, you’re in this together and that’s enough for the both of you.

:’)

“Ugh, this totally blows.” Taehyung says as you both sit on one of the food court booths.

“Which one, us not getting any jobs yet or the fact that we’re hanging at the food court?”

“Get used to it, princess. Honestly, you'll find that the food here isn't as disgusting as you think they are." He says as he fishes for his phone in his man purse.

"Well, at this rate, I won't be able to get used to it since I sTILL haven't found a job. Why are the good stores so demanding? Like, an intensive classroom and in-store training only to have a possibility to get hired??? To think that I'm a loyal Louie Button customer!"

(A/n: This is actually a real procedure for Louis Vuitton, at least in my own experience. But I only applied and never went through with the training cause I figured that it just ain't for me.)

You continue ranting your little heart out about how you could sue these stores for unfair treatment.

Taehyung, though, has long tuned you out and has pointed his full attention to his phone.

This is turning out to be a lot more disastrous than what he anticipated.

So he needs to phone a friend in.

Orrrrr a couple.

He's getting desperate, okay??

The entire spring collection was practically screaming out to him when they entered Kucci.

He's a 𝓚𝓾𝓬𝓬𝓲 𝓫𝓸𝔂 through and through.

He hasn't missed a single Kucci season collection in years.

IN YEARS, PEOPLE!

He can feel his right eye twitch at this blasphemy.

"I'm telling you! These stores are absolutely ungrateful-hEY! Are you even listening??"

"No. I thought that was obvious the second I whipped my phone out."

( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)

Rude

He didn't even try to deny it.

"You know, I really don't need you to be mean to me right now."

"Sorry y/n but this…" He lifts his phone up, "is more important right now."

What could possibly be more important than your current problem??

If you don't leave today with any form of productivity, you just might have to sell the entirety of your closet.

And we all know that ain't happening.

"By 'that', you mean?"

His phone vibrates a couple of times, indicating that he just received a bunch of messages.

He instantly opens them, disregarding you once again.

I-

Seriously, thIS bOy!

"Hello???? I'm still here and we're still hideously unemployed!"

He looks up to you with a smile that seems a tad bit too eerie.

Okay, this is somewhat alarming ngl.

"I called in some reinforcements."

Reinforcements... Huh?

What's that supposed to mean?

You stare at him with scrunched brows and mouth slightly agape.

And as if on cue, a male voice rings from behind you.

"Tae! We're here!"

"Jimin! Seokjin hyung!"

Ohhhhhhh

*Looks at the camera*

Them.

♫︎DUN DUN DUN♫︎

For everyone's information, Taehyung grew up a hair away from the poverty line.

He was in his preteen years when their family found success through his mother's sugar daddy.

He didn't grow up rich whICH there's NOthing wrong WiTh THAT.

A person's financial status does not define them.

Taehyung's friends, however, already have a collective definition in your head.

One word

༼ つ ◕◡◕ ༽つ MESS™

♫︎DUN DUN DUN♫︎

A hot mess you are so not willing to become a part of.

Tae keeps them away from you because he knows that they are not the type of people you would associate yourself with.

Which is why you've never met any of them.

...Until today.

♫︎DUN DUN DUN♫︎

Guess being besties with a broke Taehyung means it only makes sense that you finally meet them.

♫︎dUN dUn- ok that's enough of that.

"We got the Code 17 message. I can't believe I'll ever get that from you. This is history, man! We need to celebrate!" Someone says accompanied by what sounds like someone wiping a window.

You look at Taehyung with a very displeased look.

May god and every higher being out there give you strength.

He doesn't even look the slightest bit bothered by what might be one of the boldest crossovers to ever happen.

Also, "Code 17"??? Wth?

"What's wrong? You never ask to meet at the food court… And who's this with--oh." A different, softer voice talks this time.

"You guys remember my bestie, right? Y/n? Well, I think it's time you guys finally meet."

From behind you, Seokjin and Jimin share a slightly wary yet excited look.

Jimin, being the natural people lover that he is, instantly thinks that he's about to have another best friend.

From what he's heard from Taehyung, you two are slightly alike, being a total softie.

So don't be surprised if a montage of things like the two of you going on picnics at the mall garden or watching the premiere of the next Disney movie plays in his head.

Seokjin, on the other hand, being the woman lover that he is, instantly thinks that he's about to score big time.

He's heard a lot about you from Tae but the only thing that stuck (and pretty much the only thing that matters) is that you are HELLA rich.

$ ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪 $

So are we even surprised that what he imagines is him breezing through the luxury section of the mall, with his personal butlers in tow, and having everyone swoon at him?

“Y/n,” Taehyung gives you a pointed look as if telling you to be nice. “Meet Seokjin hyung and Jimin, two of my other best friends.”

Alright, you heard that these people work here at the mall.

So you’re gonna have to suck it up if it means being stuck with them for god knows how long.

You just hope they have some level of bearableness.

(Oh and some form of acceptable fashion taste too please, thank you very much!)

As much as you're not in the mood to smile, you still plaster on the sweetest one you can muster and turn around to face the two----

Oh

(o.O)

oh oh oh oh ho ho ho ho

Hello

hELLO indeed.

One of them has a white button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black slim fit trousers, and a brown newsboy cap like a cherry on top.

He's also wearing a brown apron with a small name tag that says 𝓙𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓷.

The other guy's more casual with his baby pink t-shirt, french tucked into his black ripped skinny jeans.

Personally, you wouldn’t really call them amazing outfits…

bUT SWEET BABY JESUS ARE THEY DOING THINGS.

GREAT THINGS

(Tbh maybe it’s their handsome faces that do it for you)

"Hi, I'm Jimin! It's very nice to finally meet you."

He extends his hand and you take it in a heartbeat because my god that smile.

Wooooooooooo

Now, that's what greets you into heaven.

"Tae says a lot of good things about you and I think- oof."

Cute pink shirt guy (rudely) shoves him to the side.

Jimin almost topples to the ground and it makes you want to stand and check up on him.

The poor cutie.

For some reason, you feel like Taehyung and pink shirt guy get along well.

"AND I'M Seokjin!"

This time, Seokjin swiftly takes your hand without any warning which leaves you feeling flustered.

“Umm… Nice to meet you..?” You manage to politely croak out.  

He gives your hand a kiss and then drops you a sultry wink.  

Thank god you're sitting right now.  

You'd be a lying fool to say that that didn't make your knees weak.  

But ngl, that’s a face that definitely greets you into hell.  

Like, no offense to his handsome face but you are sure there’s something completely devious going on underneath.  

No one can change your mind on that.  

"OKAY! Enough introductions, we’ll have plenty of time for that later... Where are the others??”  

“Hoseok hyung said that he's with Jungkook and they're on their way to get Namjoon hyung." Jimin says as he fixes his hat that slightly slid off.  

"Well, they better hurry!"  

Taehyung DEFINITELY did not have any reasons to cut your introductions off.  

He just did not like how you are practically drooling over Jimin and Seokjin.  

He’s nOT JEALOUS OR ANYTHING  

It’s just...  

It’s not like you’ve never been close to any hot guys before.  

Uh hello???  

HE’S HOT  

And you’re with him 24/7

Wait…  

Do you even think he’s hot???  

Okay now that’s a thought he never considered before.  

Damn bro  

Now Tae’s having an existential crisis…  

anD hE’s dEfiniTEly NOT jEALous!!!  

ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ  

"WE'RE HERE!"  

All four of you direct your heads to the sound of a new voice and you start to think that Taehyung might actually be playing a joke on you.  

Come on!  

THREE 👏  MORE 👏  HOT 👏 GUYS  👏

???  

This can't be real.  

This is literal heaven!  

Gasp!  

Are.  

You.  

DEAD?!  

Maybe you're right about Jimin being what greets you into heaven!

It all makes sense.  

“Dude, we came as soon as we could. We even pulled Namjoon out of his rabbit hole.” The handsome one wearing a sports jersey says. 

“This better be important. I didn’t even get to ask permission to take a break! I’m supposed to be stocking utensils right now.” The handsome one wearing an atrocious outfit of a bright blue shirt and a much brighter yellow pants chimes in.  

The handsome one wearing loose fitting jeans, a plaid button up and a black t-shirt underneath just stayed at the sidelines not saying anything.  

Out of all of them, you think he’s the most stylish one.  

Your eyes meet while you are assessing his outfit but he instantly looks away.  

A noticeable blush blooms on his cheeks and you almost swoon.  

Awww he’s extra cute.  

“Yeah, cause organising cutlery is more important than a friend in a literal crisis.” Taehyung says in a sarcastic tone.  

“So what are we doing here?”  

“What is this ‘crisis’ you are referring to?”  

“Yo, who is she?”  

Namjoon, Jin, and handsome jersey boy all talk at the same time.  

Ugh you need a massage.  

Being surrounded by these broke handsome men is making you lightheaded.  

“This is Y/n. You know, my other best friend.”

“Oh, your money buddy.” Handsome jersey boy butts in.   

Uh EXCUSE YOU, WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?  

You scoff hard and loud.  

Taehyung clears his throat and you thought he was going to make a comment defending you or something.  

Oh honey, you are wrong.  

Because for the nth time today, he just brushes you off.  

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Anyways, Guys, meet Y/n. Y/n, this is Hoseok hyung, Namjoon hyung, and Jungkook.”  

You didn't think it'd be possible but for the first time ever, you so badly want to rip someone's hair out.  

And not just someone, it's Taehyung.  

Normally, a sassy, moody, rude boy Taehyung doesn’t affect you at all.  

But then again, his negative vibes were never really directed to you.  

And given the current circumstance, you’re also not in the best mood as well.  

So you aren't as inviting as you usually are when you shook hands with the three boys.  

Somehow, even their overflowing handsomeness did not do anything for you now.  

Your presence, however, did something to the three boys.  

AND I MEAN A LOT.  

Confused, attracted, intimidated, confused, in awe, slightly scared, nervous, confused, hungry…  

What? Hoseok hasn’t had lunch and coincidentally, he started feeling his tummy rumble when he looked at you.  

…..  

Fun fact: Hoseok is DEFINITELY NOT A CANNIBAL NOR HE EVER PLANS ON BEING ONE.  

If ever you were thinking...  

“Okay, so here’s the sitch.” Tae starts to explain your situation and everyone listens to him intently.  

Little did you all know, the final member of the friend group just arrived at the food court and is now walking towards where you all are.  

It wasn’t difficult to spot your group with Namjoon’s obnoxiously brightly coloured towering self and the few girls hanging around.  

Probably Jimin’s fanclub.  

“And so, here we are!” Tae finishes, keeping everyone updated.  

"Wow, so you two are looking for an actual job? Like, here? At the mall??" A very baffled Seokjin asks.  

Tae rolls his eyes.  

"Yes. Is that really hard to believe?"  

"Actually, yes. It is."  

Another male voice is heard coming from someplace.  

“Yoongi hyung!”  

Oh great! Another one.  

Surely, this guy’s not that interesting.  

I mean, what are the fricking odds that he’s also an immaculate being??  

You turn around and your mouth drops to the floor.  

No no no no no.  

No way!  

Another freaking gOOD LOOKING GUY HAS WALKED UP TO YOUR GROUP.  

Okay, this is getting unbelievable now.  

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?  

Like, where and how on earth did Taehyung manage to get and round up SIX insanely good looking guys??  

What is this? Are you on The Bachelorette??

Wait no   

It's like Oprah!  

And instead of cars, she's giving away handsome men

You get a hot Asian man, you get a hot Asian man, you all get a hot Asian man!  

OR MAYBE  

Are you on MTV Punk'd?????  

Statistically speaking, a hot guy can have two or maybe three equally hot best friends

BUT SIX???   

ARE YOU KIDDING?  

Is Taehyung like Thanos? Collecting the six infinity stones?  

Thanos? lol.  

If anything, he's more like Henry VIII with his six wives.  

“So you guys didn’t even wait for me, huh?”

Yoongi, oh so casually, just takes a seat beside you   

Without even giving you a single glance or whatnot.  

“I didn’t know you'd be here at the mall today?”  

“Yeah, what are you doing here?”  

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “It’s a free country, I can be here whenever I want to be.”  

Well, can’t argue with that logic.  

The mall is practically your second home at this point.  

“... Also… uTunes is hiring and uh… I’m applying...”  

You don’t understand why but everyone else looks either shocked or annoyed at Yoongi’s announcement... 

Are you missing something here?  

“Man, you need to give it up! That place can suck it.”  

Yoongi gives Seokjin one of the scariest glare you’ve ever seen.  

It could rival against your dad’s famous death glares that he gives to his incompetent subordinates.  

Namjoon shakes his head disapprovingly, “You’re applying there again?? I can’t believe it.”  

Yes, again.  

This is going to be the seventh time he’s applying at uTunes Records, the most popular music shop there is.  

So many people flock to it even though we’re already in the digital age.  

But he doesn’t question it.  

All he cares about is getting a job there because the employees get to play their own music in the store.  

Do you know how much of a popularity boost that is?  

A CRAP TON.  

On top of that, one of the employees gets a chance to get signed by a record label every year.  

And if you're not awarded by that chance, you can still meet agents and get signed through their many parties.  

Because of that, so many people also apply for a job there.  

But they unfortunately have such high standards which is why even after three years, he still hasn’t passed their vibe check.

"Listen, seven's a lucky number. I have great feelings about this one. Besides, I've built up a strong résumé. Winning one of uTunes' own rookie dj contests must mean something, right? They can't not take me!"   

Wow.  

You've only known Yoongi for a solid three minutes, but you can already tell that he's quite passionate about this.  

"Hyung, all we're saying is that maybe you should consider doing something else? You could do so much more than run after that store." Jimin says and pats Yoongi's hand a couple of times.  

"All of you perfectly know getting a job there could quite possibly set my music career!"  

"Is that really it? Or is it because of a certain Daphne??" Seokjin teases him.  

The rest just mutters an "ooh" or an "aah".  

You seem to have been turned into an accessory.  

You so cannot relate to anything they've talked about since Yoongi came. 

It's like you're at one of your dad's social gatherings and all you can do is smile and nod.  

"ANYWAY," Yoongi interjects in their teasing. "So Tae, you're also looking for a job?"  

Jeez FINALLY.  

Something you can talk about that involves you.  

It felt like you were just back home watching some random show that doesn't require your input.  

Taehyung gives an overly dramatic heavy sigh.  

"Unfortunately, yes. Y/n and I both need one badly. But all the stores had been rejecting us left and right. Like, the audacity!" Taehyung rants all over again.  

Jimin, listens to him intently as if he hasn't heard all of this before.  

Seokjin seems to have been entertaining the surrounding ladies for a while now.

[by giving some ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ and some (•̀ᴗ-)☞  ]  

Across the table, Namjoon complains to Hoseok about getting in trouble with his boss.  

Jungkook, well, he's just staring at the beautiful pizza this kid next to you guys is eating. (Someone's hungry too, okay?) 

While Yoongi just openly stares at you.  

Welp.  

What the frick are you supposed to do now?

Is Taehyung or anyone going to properly introduce you two?   

No???  

Okay fine.  

Seems like you're gonna have to get used to doing things on your own.  

You smile at him and timidly hold your hand out.  

"Uh hi. I'm Y/n. I don't know if Tae's ever mentioned me to you before but--"  

"Oh, trust me. He's mentioned you plenty. He actually never shuts up about you."  

ʰᵉʰ  

Ok  

You don't really know if he was stating that as a fact or if he's trying to be mean…  

"Oh ha ha… That must be really annoying then."  

"Yeah, it is actually."  

Your small polite chuckle died down your throat.  

Wow and you thought Taehyung can be rude.  

hE'S STILL JUST STARING.  

"Uh…" You finally lowered your hand that he obviously isn't going to shake.  

That is definitely going in your top 10 most embarrassing moments ever.  

God, can someone get you away from this guy?  

What's his problem?  

"SO, can any one of you help us? Like, any tips or something?" Tae concludes his really long and repetitive rant.  

Everyone's eyes FINALLY focuses on Tae again.  

Seokjin snorts loudly.  

Eww.  

He opens his mouth to say something but Tae immediately holds his hand up to stop him.  

"Anyone except you hyung. I don't think you're classified."  

Everyone laughs to that and again,  

ARE YOU MISSING OUT ON SOMETHING HERE?  

Seokjin raises one finger like he's trying to make a point. "If anyone is classified to give tips on how to get accepted, it's me!"  

"Yeah, just not on how to last on one." Namjoon loudly whispers to Tae.  

"HEY I HEARD THAT!"  

Ohhh….  

So,  

Does he constantly get fired from a job?  

Well, that's just sad.  

Hopefully you don't end up like him.  

😳  

"Actually," Hoseok starts, "how do you end up landing on so many jobs? Like, don't they know your reputation?"  

And that's your cue to finally insert yourself in the conversation.  

"Uh, what reputation?"  

"Sweetheart, you don't really want to know! It's not that big of a deal." Seokjin quickly steers you away from the topic but the other guys didn't allow it to happen.  

"Oh, you know. Just that, he's known to be the "job eater" here. Cause he pretty much eats a job and moves on from it in a flash." Namjoon graciously fills you in.  

So you were right.  

That's kind of impressive though…  

But a huge waste.  

"Still! It makes me very much qualified to give the unemployed a tip!"  

"Save it hyung, you might need it for your next job once you get fired from Uncle Aang's."  

Seokjin gives everyone a sheepish smile.  

What's that about?  

It almost looks as if he…  

"YOU GOT FIRED ALREADY?!"  

"Oh you bet I did."  

To be fair, how could he not stop himself from eating the free samples? Those pretzels are literal drugs.  

"You just got that job four days ago. I can't believe it!"  

"I can believe it." Yoongi says out loud.  

Can't he say anything nice?  

"Whatever! Point is, these stores still hire me no matter what."  

"You know what, that is a good point." Taehyung mutters, slowly turning convinced by Seokjin.  

Namjoon groans. "Are you for real Tae? If you want some job advice, maybe ask one from us who has only had one permanent job all throughout."  

"Guys, let's give Seokjin hyung a chance!" Jimin, ever the sweet positive boy, suggests.

"Of course you would say that."    

Not wanting to fade into nothingness, you insert yourself again in the conversation.  

"I want to hear what he has to say."  

Once those words left your mouth, you instantly regret it.  

A.) Seokjin gives you another wink and gives you a flying kiss that has you weak in the knees again- I MEAN WHAT. I SAID NOTHING.  

And B.) Yoongi is clearly not a fan of you sharing your opinions with the group.    

Despite the obvious protests of Namjoon, Seokjin still gives his number one "professional" advice  

And that is to have a perfectly 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉 𝒒𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 résumé.  

"A high quality résumé? YOU? What the fuck are you talking about?" Yoongi says, slightly amused and slightly tired of the older guy's shenanigans.  

"Don't believe me? Fine. But I'm telling you, it's all here on paper!" Seokjin takes out a folder from his backpack and waves it around.  

Namjoon immediately snatches it from him  

"5 pages long?? Are you for real?”  

Seokjin hums and watches smugly with a cocky grin as the guys read through his résumé.  

“Hang on, since when did you do balloon modelling?”  

"I don't."  

Hoseok gasps. "But bro, isn't that lying?"  

"Yeah, duh! How else are these people gonna hire you? You have to sell them what they're looking for."  

"What if they ask you to use these skills that you clearly don't have?"  

"Then you're just gonna have to fake it till you make it, baby!"  

Huh  

No wonder he doesn't last long on a single job.  

"And how's that working out for you?" Yoongi presses on.  

"Well at least I get hired, Mr. 7th Time's the Charm!"  

Yoongi is like ᶠⁱᵗᵉ ᵐᵉ ⁱ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˢⁱᵗᵃᵗᵉ ᵇⁱᵗᶜʰ (ง'̀-'́)ง  

"That's not really the point of having a job, but I guess, whatever floats your boat, dude!" Hoseok finally sides with Seokjin.  

"So everyone is looking for a job then?" Taehyung realizes, "this is so cool if all of us get hired! We'll all face the real world together."  

"All of us except Jungkook though."  

Who?  

Oh that extra cute shy boy.  

You forgot he's here.  

Boy really hasn't said a word at all.  

"Did ya hear that? All of us are getting jobs!"

"You should get one too!"   

"That would be so cool!"  

"So what do you say? What are your plans Kook?"  

"Guys, don't pressure the kid!"  

The guys talk simultaneously, ultimately kind of pressuring Jungkook to say something before he even thinks about it.  

The table falls silent and everyone eyes Jungkook.  

The guys are like ( ･ิ ͜ʖ ･ิ) and ( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)  

Jungkook is like (ʘ ͟ʖ ʘ)  

Then the guys are like (≖ ͜ʖ≖)  

So jungkook is like (¬‿¬ )  

In the end, they are all like 

(☞°ヮ°)☞ ☜(°ヮ°☜)  

And through it all, you are just ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ  

What the heck is going on?  

"Yeah, why not?" Jungkook simply concludes and the guys make various celebrating noises.  

Gasp!  

He can talk???  

"Okay, everyone calm down! Let's wait until after everyone gets hired before we celebrate." Namjoon scolds everyone.  

"Well that might take a while considering Y/n and I can't find one!"  

Namjoon places a comforting hand on Tae's shoulder. "Oh relax, there's like ten thousand stores in the mall!"  

"Actually, there are only 613 stores in the entire mall." Hoseok points out a matter of factly.  

You all look at him dumbfoundedly.  

Aaaand he just stares back at all of you.  

Is this some kind of trivia that you need to know if you work around here?  

Are you gonna have to memorise a lot of facts about the mall???  

Oh, you don't like that.  

Seokjin was the first one to react.  

"Dude?? What the hell?!"  

"I got bored once while I was on a break and counted."

Huh.  

Makes sense.  

Yeah, sure.  

Why not?  

Why wouldn't you just go and count the total number of stores out of boredom???  

…  

THAT WAS A SARCASTIC REMARK IF YOU DIDN'T GET IT.  

"Even if there are 600 stores here, there are only like, 20 good stores that exist!" Tae remarks   

You want to say you can't agree more but you stop yourself because you don't think you can handle another cold stare from Yoongi.  

"Are you perhaps pertaining to the high end stores?" Namjoon muses.  

"Yeah. What else?"  

Jimin's eyes widen in shock. "Hold on. So you two have only been looking at that small section of the entire mall?"  

"Yeah. Why?"  

Yoongi chuckles condescendingly.  

"Bros, you know that saying… 'Beggars can't be choosers'?" Hoseok tries to enlighten you two.  

You and Tae look at each other.  

What an epiphany.  

A very disgusting yet important epiphany.  

"Are you… Are you guys saying that… We need to find a job… Outside of that section??"  

They all nod.  

Ughhhhhhh  

You and Tae make an annoyed sound.  

"Welcome to the real world, peasants!" Seokjin warmly tells you.  

Could things get any worse?  

"Hey, at least we'll all be here together!"  

Ha ha 

Great . Awesome. Wow.

"Well, on that note, I really need to get back to work. Lady and gentlemen, may the odds be ever in your favour. Good luck!"  

Namjoon stands and walks away.  

One by one, the other working guys went back to work as well, leaving you unemployed slackers.  

Hey they didn't even give any actual help!  

Wasn't that the reason why Tae called for a… What did they call it?  

Code something something.  

Oh whatever!  

Anyways,  

So to summarize things  

You might end up working at an awful low end store.  

And you're unwillingly stuck with the wrong set of people.  

One of them is a total flirt and an actual pain to society.  

Another one might possibly hate you for unknown reasons.   

This tall dude seems to be really uptight.  

Then there's this guy that seems really weird.

The other one, well… He's cute and doesn't really have any negative points yet BUT you're sure something's wrong with him.   

And the last one literally said one thing during the entire time!  

Oh, you've got a really really long way before you can pay your dad.  

Good luck to you, indeed.   

[descendantstidalage]

Lorictober 2021 Day 7: Victory

The victory celebration was wild as it’s prone to do when you mix a large crowd of super powered teens, alcohol and no adult supervision. Or maybe just adult supervision that was just as interested in what they could do with their powers. Oddly enough it reminded Nine of the little celebration the Orginal Garde had after they defeated the Mogs and before they went their own way. Maybe it was how Four was standing off by himself awkwardly like last time. At least he didn’t look like this was the last place he wanted to be, though he still looked like he might disappear if Nine looked away.

“Drink?” Four started as Nine handed him a red cup he’d slipped off with before he’d been cornered by his students, because apparently watching your professor go hand to hand with the beloved Garde made him the center of gossip.

Four shook his head. “No. I don’t… I don’t want to lose myself again.”

“Suit yourself,” Nine said with a shrug and tossed the drink back. “You know, you’ve really gotten better since I dangled you off the roof. Don’t think I’ll be able to pull that one off again.”

Four gave him a look like he drank too much. “I ripped your arm off.”

“Well, it’s not like you did that and then took off for a couple years, leaving me to cope all by myself. Just to come back and try to take over my school.” Nine glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes, pleased to note that Four at least looked ashamed for just leaving like that.

Four’s shoulders slumped in as he stared at the ground. “I’m sorry. They’re going to hate me, or at least have that image stuck in their head. I could’ve killed you.”

“Hey,” Nine bumped his shoulder against Four. “I wouldn’t have gone down that easy. You might be able to get the upper hand for a little bit, but you wouldn’t have killed me.”

“I wasn’t in control. I…. I did things that…. You’re like their cepan, and I—“

“Whoa! Dude, don’t say that. You’re going to curse me or something,” Nine complained, half hoping Four would give him a half smile, but he remained solemn as he stared at Nine.

“Maybe I should Adam about it. I’m not sure where to go from here.”

“Yeah, okay. I guess he’d be good with the whole possession thing; he did have one of us stuck in his head. Just enjoy the part tonight, man. You try to leave too soon without saying goodbye, I’m hunting you down again.”

Four smiled. “Thank you. For not leaving me alone.”

Nine shrugged it off and wandered through the party, looking for one of his favorite students, and dodging the drunken super powered shenanigans, deflecting the telekinetic shoves, and flying bodies or flame blasts.

He spotted Nigel sitting by what remained of the Fugitive Six and three different Calebs. He plopped down beside him, slapping him on the back with a grin. “There you are. Glad to see you’re not alone.”

Nigel smiled at him. “And you got your arm back.”

“Yeah, Johnny-boy wanted to hold on to but I managed to wrestle it back. Man, these parties are a lot more wilder when there’s more than like six people.”

He leaned back, while Nigel laughed. “I guess you wouldn’t let me be alone, huh?”

“By yourself, sure. Not alone.” He gave him a meaningful. “As long as I’m around you’re not alone. Just don’t go trying to make me your cepan or anything.”

Nigel laughed, and Caleb 1 looked at him in confusion. “Aren’t they supposed to be the ones without powers?”

“Sure, but they kind of raised us—“

“I’m getting you a mug that says number 1 dad,” Nigel interrupted.

Nine wrapped an arm around him, squeezing. “I’m not your dad.”

“Big brother?” Nigel offered with a smirk.

“Hey why are there three of you?” Nine asked Caleb, glancing at the other student.

“We’re emotional support,” Caleb 2 answered.

Nigel flushed. “Stop.” He squirmed in Nine’s hold until he let him go.

He might not be good with all the emotion stuff, and Nigel wasn’t exactly inclined to speak with him about it, but if it ever changed Nine would be there with his door open. Anything as long as these kids were safe.

He caught sight of Ella across the lawn making her way through the crowd. The way she moved reminded him of how John was before he disappeared for a year on them. “I’ve got to go check something out,” Nine excused himself, and followed after her.

She disappeared around a group of boys playing that telekinesis game, and when Nine rounded around them, she was completely gone. He frowned and looked around, wondering where she disappeared to.

“What’s that about?”

Nine spun at Nigel’s interruption. “I thought you were staying with your friends.”

Nigel shrugged. “I wasn’t going to be left out of whatever mysterious shit’s going on with you. So what’s that about?”

Nine glanced back where Ella disappeared. “I don’t know. But I will be finding out.”

Over the next couple months Nine kept track of Ella’s movements as much as possible (having GUARD at his side was a big help on that). Ella was gathering a little team, and from what Nine could gather was messing around with politics. Just what they needed, another Garde getting involved on the national stage, because that wouldn’t be a disaster.

He ended up finding Ella back in the cave. “Rumor has it you’ve been busy.”

She turned toward him like she was expecting him. “I’ve been working with some concerned citizens about keeping the peace. It’s not that much different from what you were doing with your little Fugitive Six.”

Nine glared at her. “What does that have to do with what you’re doing now?”

She smiled slightly.”I’m ensuring our victory. There are still tensions lurking underneath. I don’t want our victory to be temporary again.”

Nine frowned. “I thought you weren’t looking into the future because it only causes trouble.”

Ella smiled one of those mysterious knowing smiles that made Nine worry about what she was growing into. She wasn’t the little kid trying to join the big kids in the fight. She was rapidly growing into a Garde with powers that seemed out of Nine’s reach. “I’m not looking into the future; I’m learning to read the present.”

[redhawtriot]

Caught in the Act (Bakugou x Reader)

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

So… this is technically like half of the request but I had way too many ideas for this (and its already long as hell. oops). I’m only doing one Bakugou cheating scenario on this page so go big or go home, right?

I also saw that this blog  that I made like two weeks ago has like 100 of you guys following it wtf?! So to celebrate, I’m making my first actual series an interactive one! The following chapters will be very short (besides this one, she thicc), but each will have a question at the end that will determine the events of the next chapter! I made an account on OpinionStage where you guys can vote on through Tumblr, so hopefully at least one of you is excited.

Part two (the other half of this request) is where this fun will begin, so stay whelmed.

Fuck this site for making me repost this :)

Love you guys

HnM💕

Warning: Don’t read this to your fucking kids

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Essentially, your girls night for the week had been, in lack of better words, a shit show.

The brisk, fall air pierced your skin, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to wrap your arms around yourself for warmth. You didn’t even want to touch your sticky filth.

You just wanted to run home to your Bakugou– he was all the warmth that you needed and more. More than anything, you wanted to forget about the foul man that had assaulted you at your now ex-favorite club.

A frown momentarily sneaked its way onto your face to corrupt the brave expression you had held in front of your girlfriends,

“Hey” you had raised your hands to halt your friend, “Don’t do something ridiculous! I promise I’m alright, Jirou!” You had begged her when she had prepared to fight the man as he grabbed your arms. You had already politely asked him to back away from you after he tried to grind himself against you. He called it dancing��you called it sexual harassment.

The nightclub security had already been watching this man and immediately closed in on him to escort him out of the club as soon as he moved in towards you. But it must not have been fast enough.

Everything happened so rapidly that you could barely blink in time before you were drenched in a sticky liquid. Still, you kept a calm expression on your face. Your friends’ careers as heroes depended on how calmly you acted,

“No, it’s okay! I needed to head home anyway!” you had argued with your girls after the man had thrown his drink at you. You tried to bring a smile onto your face as the slight sting of the alcohol penetrated your eyes, “Bakugou will pick me up,” you blinked heavily.

Of course he wouldn’t pick you up in front of the club.

No, that would just be a disaster waiting to happen.

He would more than likely blow the entire place up once he found out what had transpired.

However, after the fourth failed attempt at calling Bakugou, you had given up. It was honestly a stretch anyway. He barely made it past nine o’ clock most nights, and it was well on its way to midnight. You could see your breath as you gave off a heavy sigh, but you never faltered in your steps.

You just wanted to go home to your man, clean your pathetic ass in a hot shower, and forget other men existed in this world.

You groaned to yourself as you remembered how late your guys’ roommate, Kirishima, would stay up in the front living room playing video games—the same front living room you would have to sneak past to make your way to the sanctuary of your shower.  

You opened the front door as quietly as you could and prodded your, matted, liquor-contaminated head into the threshold of your home. You probably looked like a wild animal as you scrunched your eyebrows and stared at the dark living room for a while before finally building up the courage to tiptoe towards your bathroom.

You didn’t even want to go to your room in fear of interrogation from a very sleepy, very pissed off Bakugou.

Better not poke the bear. Better just wash the stink and sins away and keep it moving like nothing had happened.

Kirishima not being awake on his Xbox for once was a blessing on a normal day, but today it was truly god sent. Hell, even Bakugou not being able to pick you up might have been a blessing in disguise—or so you thought.

As soon as you turned your shower off you heard it– a steady, creaking noise.

“What the fuck?” you whispered to yourself as your face crinkled upwards in disgust. Kirishima hardly ever brought girls home, and when he did, he was as quiet as a mouse with them. In fact, you hardly even knew the women were there until the next morning when they awkwardly wobbled out of the apartment with their heads tucked down.

The pace of the creaking sped up and the smack of the headboard joined in a repetitive thudding, causing you to freeze in place.  Breathless feminine moans joined the little musical number in increasing volume for short while before they became more ‘shrieky’ in nature.

A grimace fell upon your expression, “What the fuck?” you once again mouthed. You quickly snatched your towel and wrapped it around you with haste as you tried to run from the unholy concerto that was being orchestrated in your room.

Wait.

Your room?

Your room was the room that was connected to the bathroom walls—not Kiri’s.

It was in that moment of realization that you heard the moans return, this time a gruff male voice joined the duet,

“Shit!” The moan was drawn out until it faded into a heavy, guttural groan.

You paused again as your heart dropped deeply into your chest. You stretched your hearing and waited for his voice to appear again over her constant whines, “Just like that, baby,” his voice reemerged as he groaned deeply. Your heart harshly reminded you of its existence as it lurched suddenly.

That sounded like Bakugou.

But it had to be a mistake. You rehearsed this thought repeatedly as you sped to your room as quietly as you could—your mind racing even faster than your legs. Your Bakugou was sound asleep in his bed like he was this time of night every night. He was sound asleep and stretched out on his side of the bed with the lights off and with a sock thrown over the flashing light of his work desk computer—he hated that light at night.

You faltered as your hand stuttered uncontrollably toward your door handle. Bakugou’s never even looked at another woman before. It took him years to throw even you, his current fiancé, a second glance. He would never in a million years be on the other side of this door with another woman making those ungodly sounds.

Sounds you hadn’t heard in months.

It had to be Kirishima you tried to convince yourself as you gently twisted the door handle, ‘Please god, he just went into the wrong room,’ you prayed as you threw the door open.

Every single muscle in your body froze as you ingested the sight in front of you—your heart included.

You caught the tail end of their act, and you could only watch in complete disgust as the muscles of your beloved’s back violently contracted in sweat glistened pulses.

The woman made horrified eye contact with you as she was being pinned against your grandmother’s dresser, yet she couldn’t fight the last moan that ripped itself from her, her legs spasming as Bakugou’s flesh smacked into hers for a final time.

He desperately pressed himself into her like he was trying to become her, “Fuck,” he groaned into her neck. You noticed his nails dig deeply into her raised wrists as his hips rashly stuttered to a stop, “Don’t clench around me like that, babe. Relax.” His shaky breath demanded.

The woman looked far from relaxed, “H-Hey!” she anxiously tapped his shoulder, trying to warn him of their impending doom. Her wide eyes were still fixated on your ever-growing livid ones.

“BAKUGOU!” You screeched. The relaxed emotion that you had so desperately tried to keep plastered onto your face that night completely shattered as you angrily marched up to him and snatched the back of his hair, “You bastard!!”

As you yanked downward, he surprisingly fell to the ground, disconnecting with the other slut on trial as they both flew to the ground.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” he yelled as his body heavily thudded into the ground.

“That’s my line, you fucking jackass!” you felt your voice crack. Everything hurt. There was pressure in the back of your eyes, the front of your chest, your legs, your throat, your toes, your everything. Everything in your body felt weak under your boiling blood as if you were about to explode.

“Y-Y/N…?” you saw his trademark pissed off expression drop to an unfamiliar one as his eyes finally adjust to you in the darkness of the room. It must have resided in an area between fear and sadness.

You fought the unruly emotions that threatened to take control over your body as you clenched your fist.

Fuck him. He doesn’t get to be sad.

“What?? Were you expecting someone else!?” you spat as you roughly kicked one of his nearby feet, “You probably were expecting more company, you whore,”

No response.

You dug your nails deep into the palm of your hands as if it would somehow release the excruciating pressure that you were feeling.

The woman’s meek voice suddenly broke the extreme silence you all shared, “I-I’m gonna g—”

“GO!” you angrily whipped yourself around to her before grabbing the nearest item that you could, “You dumb bitch! You’re lucky I don’t fuck you up too!” You threw the item as you cursed, not even bothering to know what it was.

It barely missed the naked girl and loudly shattered against one of your walls as she scurried towards the door. You went to reach for another object from your grandmothers’ dresser, promising that you wouldn’t miss this time, but you froze as you found yourself in the mirror connected to the dresser.

You hadn’t realized in your rage that you were crying until you saw your tear-soaked face in the dark reflection. You tried so hard to keep yourself together. You prided yourself on being level-headed in stressful situations, but you were far from level-headed. You were conceited to ever even try to take on that persona.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you could only lament about how pathetic you looked—how pathetic you were.

“I…I’m such an idiot!” you painfully gripped at your hair as you fell into your knees in front of the man you loved. Heavy sobs tore themselves free of your burning throat. You heaved yourself forward into your lap in a failed attempted to catch them, but it was too late.

“I don’t… know what to say.” Bakugou finally spoke up, his face completely flipped upside down from its usual tenseness.

Of course.

Out of all of the times you wanted this loud-mouthed jerk to shut up, now is when he is at a loss for words.

You couldn’t help the small laugh that fell from your lips.

“I don’t see what’s so fucking funny?” he angrily retorted, as he stumbled to make his way up. You were suddenly met with his member being swung at your eye level as you stayed crouched onto the ground. That’s when you noticed–

He didn’t even have a condom on.

He made you get tested for STDs and pregnancy before he even had sex with you with a condom.

“I don’t know where that thing has been,” He had said then. It wouldn’t be until months later when you had started birth control when he had finally decided to risk sex without latex protection. The memory jolted an unexpected emotion from you as your chest bobbed from an oncoming laugh.

“G-get out.” You laughed again, tears still steadily falling from your face. You probably looked absolutely psychotic right now, but it was like all of the emotions that you had been stifling all these years had resurfaced with a vengeance. You struggled to drag yourself to stand so that you wouldn’t have to look at his still wet dick.

You continued to laugh and cry as Bakugou stared at you, his expression becoming disgruntled from the disturbing sight,

“What the fuck is wrong wi—”

“Get. OUT!!” you angrily interrupted him as you roared into his face. He blinked spastically in response as the shock of the altercation finally began to sink into his decelerated mind.

‘F-fuck,’

His heart sank, ‘What did I just do?’ He racked his brain as he tried to remember all of the events that had taken place to lead him to this moment, but the world seemed to be spinning ferociously, shaking up and mixing the timeline of the night.

He was plucked from his thoughts as he caught a glimpse of your face in the darkness of the room.

Why were you looking at him like you hated his existence—like if you could disintegrate his body with your eyes, you would. For the first time in years, Bakugou felt hot tears tingle against the back of his eyes, “Y/N, I…” his voice became stuck in his chest as his heart gave sudden jolt, “I’m so s–”

His chest became tight as you whipped away from him and silently threw a pointed finger towards the door.

He stumbled back a few feet as if you had just thrown a physical attack his way.

After a few moments of watching you hold the same position, he noticed you had started to cry again as your rocking shoulders lurched forward.

His face fell even further into the expression of despair before he froze. He could fix this if you would just let him, dammit!

He growled in annoyance at your ignoring him before he finally thawed his body, “FINE!” he yelled at you before smacking your pointed hand out to the way so that he could stagger out of the room. He loudly slammed the door shut, leaving you alone with your deafening thoughts.

You immediately dropped back to the ground before you curled yourself up into a ball and released painful sobs.

You had absolutely no fear that he would catch you in this state. His pride would never allow him to come back after storming out like that.

However on the other side of the door, Bakugou had already turned back around. Instant guilt had created a cacophony of loud feelings in his mind. How could he have hurt you like that?

The thought caused his heart to thrum and his hands to flinch away from the door handle; however, he strengthened his resolve and firmly grasped the handle once more until suddenly–

“BAKU-BROOOOO!” Kirishima’s booming voice could be heard moments before the front door was slammed open and bounced against your living room wall, “Ya made it back alive, man! We were all worried about you after you disappeared…” he slurred as he fumbled over to his best friend like a toddler taking his first steps.

Bakugou couldn’t find it in himself to reply to the redhead as the latter threw himself at him with a hearty laugh. The laugh, however, came to an abrupt end as Kirishima stared blankly at Bakugous face, “Hey… wha’s wrong, best buddy? Holy hell, w-why are you crying?!” he loudly whispered. A loud rumble could be heard before Kirishima violently gagged, releasing the contents of his stomach.

[t-o-m-hollands]

Warning: Ever so slightly smutty at two parts, but only slightly. However if that’s not you thing at all or if you are too young then do not read.

Summary: You and Timmy were once an item. After a painful breakup you meet each other again at an award show.

Here’s how it goes. For being an actress you’re awfully shy. While in front of the cameras when you’re immersed in a role you can turn it all off, all of your doubts and insecurities dissipates, and you can turn all your focus on the performance at hand and forget about all the people in the studio or the camera catching your every expression.  

Award ceremonies however are a special form of hell. The probing questions from the journalists, the flashing lights of the cameras, the noise of reporters all screaming at you to look their way. The constant watching and judging eyes, ready to tear you apart piece by piece on the internet.

It is not for you. Despite wearing a couture dress from a fashionable designer, you do not feel like you belong in this room, with these people, who all seem to know exactly what do to and say, who seem like they were born to be here. You feel like a fraud.

The afterparty is in full swing when you arrive at the venue. Loud music echoing across the room from the DJ booth, people clinking their glasses while wearing the finest clothes money can buy, and a never-ending stream of cold champagne being served by waiters in black. A few guests are dancing, some on the floor, some on tables.

You’re hiding. Out on the balcony, out of sight. If only just for a moment. Giving in to a temptation you’ve struggled to resist all night you try to lit a cigarette, but the damn lighter just flickers.

“Need a light?” he asks and the effect that voice has on you seem ridiculously disproportionate. You can however not deny that it’s happening to you. Your knees feels unsteady and your hands are shaking and surely the world is spinning too fast around you and surely you have a fever, and you want to blame it on the champagne, you want to blame it on the cold, you want to blame it on the hunger. But it’s him. It has always been him. Whatever it is about him, whatever magic quality that he possesses, that only he possesses, is entirely his own.  And no champagne in the world has ever made you feel as light headed as he has. As he still does.

As he walks up to you the world seems to be spinning and you try not to breath. The scent of him is surrounding you and you don’t want to breath him in. Because he’s not here to stay and he’s not yours to keep and soon he will leave, and you can already feel the wound in your heart pulling at its seams.  

He leans closer, over you, and he holds up a lighter and so you lean closer still with your cigarette. He then lights one for himself and for a while all you do is stand there, your back pressed against the wall and his body still leaning slightly over yours. You can hear the voices and the music from inside, the chaotic roars of celebration and delight. The pounding music. Down on the street the soft noise of never-ending traffic as cars drive by. And yet, you swear you can hear both of your hearts beat, even thought that must be impossible.  

It’s cold up on the rooftop but you can feel the heat of his body, so close to yours. Then he bows his head, almost as if in defeat, and he rests his forehead against yours and he takes a shaky breath.  

“Sorry” he mumbles against your forehead, but what he wants to say is – I’m sorry for the times I left without saying goodbye. I’m sorry I never stayed long enough to talk things out. I’m sorry I never told you how I felt, the way I still feel when you’re around. I’m sorry I was a coward when we met, I’m sorry I stayed when I thought it wouldn’t last. I’m sorry I left. God I’m so sorry I left. I’m sorry for the tear in your heart, but if you want to compare war wounds mine is yet to stop bleeding.  

He wants to say – I kept having this reoccurring dream where I was lost at sea, unable to set ashore and unable to sail away and all I could see was the light of the lighthouse and it blinded me. I couldn’t turn away from it. The rest of the world didn’t exist anymore and everything else paled against the blinding light. There was no sun, no moon, no stars. I couldn’t feel the rain or the cold or hear the screams of the sea. But the point of a lighthouse is to warn sailors of dangerous and traitorous paths ahead. In the end, there was nothing but the blinding light and I had to get closer still, I just had to, no matter the cost. And so, I crash against the rocks and every night I drown, mon ange, every night I drown.  

He wants to say – you are a force of nature and the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. the first time I saw you I didn’t know what to do with myself. It seemed impossible, you seemed impossible, like taken out of dreams I hadn’t realized I was having. And when you walked up to me I wanted to sound clever, make you laugh, impress you but I didn’t know, I still don’t know, what to do with myself when you’re around. So, I offered my hand for you to shake. And you took it in yours and you smiled up at me and I swear you’ve had my heart ever since. Like I’d handed it over to you in that handshake.  

He wants to say – and when you told me you loved me back I got scared, because you were beautiful and clever and funny and bright as the sun and I was half a world away for weeks and months on end and I didn’t understand how that could be enough for you. How you could settle for that. How could I let you? And I thought that surely you would meet someone else, someone better and they’d sweep you off your feet and that there would be nothing for me to do but to watch it happen and wish you the best. So, I thought of it as ripping of a band-aid and I left. Before you could leave me and I’m sorry. I was young and dumb and in love and didn’t know what to do with myself and I’m sorry.  

“Sorry for all of it” he adds, even though is seems heartbreakingly inadequate even to his own ears.  

You look up at him, really taking in the sight of him for the first time that evening. Hair’s a mess, like he’s dragged his hand through it a million times tonight. Dark circles under his eyes so prominent you feel worried for him and his lips pressed tightly shut together, as if he’s trying to keep a stream of words back from entering the world.  

“Let’s leave” your voice a soft whisper.  

He blinks, “wha- really?”, and you almost want to laugh at his puzzled expression.  

“I haven’t eaten all day in order to fit into this dress, I’m starving. Let’s go someplace where I can eat my body weight in fries, and then we’ll talk. Alright?”  

“Alright” he repeats, eyes full of stars as he looks down at you. And then, as if he’s unable to stop himself, he plants the gentles of kisses on your forehead. You smile up at him before reaching out your hand for him to take, and he does. It feels right.  

In silence you walk out of the hotel. In silence you stroll the streets before walking into a 24/7 open diner. It is nearly empty, but the few guests and the waitress inside all notice you when you walk in. The difference between the posh party you’ve just left and this rather dirty old diner makes you smile. You don’t know if they recognise either you or Timmy but you guess that your fine clothes give you away. Timmy leads you to the booth at the far back, away from the windows and from the staring eyes of the other diners. He then waits for you to sit down before sliding in beside you. It feels familiar. In the back of your mind there’s a nagging thought that this isn’t how it should be. Seeing each other again after nearly a year apart should surely be painful, be awkward, be difficult. This is anything but. This is the familiarity of coming home and sleeping in your own bed after having been gone for too long. This is re-watching your favourite movie from childhood. This is the smell of birthday parties as a child, cupcakes with vanilla frosting and strawberries and coffee in the air. This is a shower after a long day. Your favourite meal. A photo album from when you were young. Your most beloved song. It is bliss.  

On the stereo you can hear “I want hold your hand” by The Beatles over the faint sound of chatter. The whole place smells of fried food, yet his scent is so clear to you and you want to just cuddle up beside him, breath in the familiarity of him. So, you move closer and he wraps an arm around you, a big smile on his face. He kisses your forehead again and you smile.  

“And what are you ordering?” A waitress asks you both, tapping a notepad with her pen.  

“Do you have champagne?” you ask, only half joking. You might not have felt like celebrating all evening, but you do now.  

“No” is her answered, not amused.  

“Oh, well, fries? And a milkshake, strawberry, please” You smile at her, but she doesn’t melt, just writes down your order.  

“And you?” She turns to Timmy.  

“Oh, I’ll have fries too, and a coke, thank you”. He smiles too but the waitress still refuses to be charmed. She does however jot down his order too before dutifully rushing off to the kitchen.  

Timmy looks down at you, and the smile he gives you, you swear it is radiant. You swear you see stars in his eyes. You swear he looks at you so fondly you’re more than half in love with him again. But then you think, did you ever stop. Because sure, without him you were still breathing, you still functioned as you should. You still walked your dog, went to work, cooked dinner, showered. You still went out with friends. Still laughed. You went on the business of living. All the while you missing him. It was with you like a constant ache between your ribs. Sure, the first week after he left had been almost insufferable, like something vital had, without grace or ceremony, been ripped out of your body. But you had picked up the pieces of your life and you had dusted yourself off and you had gotten on with it. And here he was, smiling down at you with stars in his eyes. You don’t feel angry, but you wonder if maybe you should. For although he felt as familiar as a cuddly toy from childhood you needed answers.  

“Why did you leave?”  

His smile fades, he takes a shaky breath and leans his forehead against yours, as if to collect himself. Then, with an apparent effort he pulls himself together and sits up straight again, one arm still draped around you.  

“I just” a long paus. “I just thought you deserved better, I suppose”. You sit quietly and think this over. “Was that not up for me to decide?” you ask, gently. He lets out a shaky laugh. “Yeah” he agrees sounding bitter, and then, sounding almost embarrassed, “I got scared”. The way he says it sounds like a confession, and a fleeting though strikes you. He wants you to repent him for his sins. “What scared you?” Your voice is gentle and soft as a whisper. While you wait for his answer you find yourself absentmindedly painting little patterns over his hand. It seems to settle him.  

“The intensity of it all, I guess” and again, he sounds embarrassed, almost shy, as he confesses this to you. He nuzzles up closer to you, seeking comfort. Leaning his head against yours as you both observe your intertwined hands. “It never happened to me, not like that” and then adding, sensing your confusion “love, I mean. It never happened to me in that way, like I’d been struck by lightning or something. When it happened before, if that even was love, it grew slowly and then slowly faded. But this felt like, like” he seems at a loss for words for a second “like being thrown out of my orbit and it scared me. Being with you scared me, like I’d do fucking anything for you, be anyone for you. It just got really intense, really quick.”  

You don’t know what to say to that. Before the silence can drag out too long the waitress returns with your food which she places it in front of you before scurrying off. You untangle your hand from his grasp to grab a hold of your milkshake.

“Timmy” you start but he interrupts you, “no mon ange, please, let me explain properly first”. You can tell that the endearment slipped out without him having meant to use it, for it startles you both, and you can feel the wound in your heart pulling at its seams again. You then know that without realizing it a big part of you had just assumed that he was back in your life again, and back to stay. And hearing him call you his angel again in that familiar way, as if he had never gone made you question if he really was yours to keep. He realizes that he has made you tense up and he hurriedly tries to fix it, “shit, I’m sorry babe” and there’s the other one.

And a river of memories flows over you.  

A white room, with white curtains flowing in the wind as sunshine streams through them. Laying on white sheets on the hotel bed as he moves above you. You are laughing and moaning and touching. Then, a shaky whisper that might as well have been a praying in your ear as he comes, dragged out in all its glory, “babe”.

In a cinema at a movie premiere and on the screen your boyfriend having sex with another woman. You know it’s all pretend but it doesn’t stop the sinking feeling in your gut as you watch them. Then, his warm hand grasping yours, leaning in to whisper in your ear, “it’s all pretend, mon ange, I love you”.  

Fighting over a game of scrabble in your apartment “Babe, I really can’t help it if ‘squeeze’ is spelled with a Z and not an S!” “Alright, then you shouldn’t be allowed to spell ‘quickly’ with a CK!” Silence. Then “but that’s the correct spelling, that’s what it should be spelled like!”

“Fuck babe, you look amazing” his admiring eyes from across the room, and then his hands in your hair as he kisses you and you laughing into that kiss. “No, where going to be late!” “Fuck them”. Laughter again and then “No, fuck me”.

A telephone call in the middle of the night. Unexpected. You’re out on the balcony, hoping the cold air will make you feel less numb. “I’m sorry, mon ange, I just can’t do it anymore”.  

And then you’re back to reality again. “Babe, are you all right?” Timmy’s worried voice in your ear as he leans over you, trying to pull you back from the memories. “Look at me, please look at me, babe”. You do. He has tears in his eyes, you can tell he’s not far from shedding them. “Let me explain, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that, all I meant was that, that” and he looks so frustrated at not being able to put words on his own feelings. “All I mean is that, is that it felt like, that I felt like I loved you so much that I” he stops again and you wish you could help him formulate whatever it is he’s struggling with. “It felt so intense and it scared me. I wasn’t ready for it to happen to me like that, love I mean. I wasn’t ready for you. It scared me. I was a coward and I’m sorry”.  

You kiss him. Not passionately or fervently but gently and deliberately.

“Alright” you say before finally taking a sip of your now somewhat melted strawberry milkshake. It tastes heavenly, although kissing Timmy might just taste better. You look up at him, and he seems almost frozen in place, staring back at you with stars in his eyes again. “Wanna taste?” you ask, referring to the milkshake in your hand. He nods but doesn’t place his lips around the straw, instead he places them on your lips again. It’s still slow and gentle, but this time there’s a fever behind it. Like he wants to make up for all the time spent apart.  

Eventually you move away, smiling. He’s smiling too. You both tuck into your food and suddenly you feel starving. He’s still got one arm draped around you and he’s playing with your hair. And your chatting with one another. About all the small but important things that has happened in the others absence. You talk movies and music and travel too.  

Before you know its early morning.  

And here is how it goes. You leave the diner, still arm in arm, and make your way out into the morning. The glitter on your couture dress sheen in the sun and your limbs feel heavy with sleep deprivation. He manages to get you both a taxi and you make your way across New York City. His hand is warm in yours. You nearly fall asleep against his shoulder. The sky is a clear blue outside and the sun is beaming, and the taxi driver is humming along to the radio. It is Sunday and outside people are eating breakfast alfresco, enjoying time with their loved ones. The whole world seems to be smiling with you today.

And then you are at his apartment. He helps you out of your dress and you help him with the many buttons in his dress shirt. Body’s exhausted you both lay down in his bed, naked naked as the day you were born.

And this is how it goes. He holds you. He says softly, voice hardly more than a whisper “I won’t be a coward this time, promise. Promise I won’t leave again. Not unless you ask me to”. You turn around and you kiss him. And you trust him. And you fall asleep holding each other.  

***

This is a repost from my previous blog.

[harryskiwis]

New Beginnings

You and Harry start the next chapter of your lives.

(not my gif)

A/N: Hi! Welcome to the first installment to my new series “New Beginning’s!” It’s a fluffy fic, and one I’m excited about because I really love dad!Harry! So lemme know what you think because I’m nervous to post this, but excited to get feedback! Reblogs, likes, asks, and comments are greatly appreciated! xx

Pairing: Harry and Y/N

Warnings: Fluff and light swearing!

Summary: You and Harry have been trying for a baby for a while now, yet every test turns out negative. However, one day, things might get a little more positive for you two. 

Today was sunny and humid. Very humid. Typically your favorite kind of LA weather, but today, you just weren’t feeling it. Everything seemed to be against you nowadays- your car broke down this morning while you were on your way to work, the power at your house went out last night, and you and your husband, no matter how many times you try, cannot get pregnant. 

It’s all the two of you wanted. You just wanted a baby. And some would say, “You’ve still got time!” And while that is technically true, now is the time you both feel is the best time to welcome a child into your lives. Your job has never been a burden for you- as you’re a bridal consultant at a nice, expensive, chic bridal salon in the center of LA. And your husband- who bless his heart, just wants a baby so bad that he mentions it all the time- is at a standstill with his music career right now since he’s not touring. You tried and tried and tried, but the universe just wouldn’t give in and give you what you wanted. 

You were currently sat on your couch watching a rerun of ‘The Big Bang Theory’ on TV. Only, you were half paying attention. You were sipping your favorite tea that Harry had so graciously got for you last night when he was on his way home from the studio, and petting your trusty black cat, Eddie. You were lost in thought thinking of what being a mother would be like- the domestic moments with Harry, buying them cute clothes, getting to celebrate mothers day, and getting to chat with the other moms about motherly things. It’s all you wanted and more. 

Your lack of paying attention to the TV and incessant thinking about being a mother had you make the impulsive decision to take another pregnancy test. You knew it’d be negative, but that tiny slimmer of hope still left inside of your heart somewhere kept your whole being optimistic about someday having a positive test. 

You quickly ran to your large marble bathroom and opened the cabinet under your side of the sink to pull out the box of pregnancy tests you had bought about a month ago. There was only one left. You knew it was negative- you had no symptoms- but you wanted to take it anyways. Harry was currently at his managers house working on some upcoming plans, so you figured now was the best time to take your spontaneous test. 

After quickly grabbing the test and ripping the plastic off of it, you took it. Once you were done, you stared at it for a few moments before placing it face down on the counter and leaving the bathroom. You had to wait at least five minutes for the results to pop up, and you didn’t know if you’d last that long before your stomach fell on the floor from nerves. Even though you’ve done this multiple times, and they’ve come back negative every time, each new test brings nerves and a small sense of hope that maybe you are pregnant. It never checks out, however, and you know this time will be no different. 

During the long five minutes waiting for your test results, you pace back and forth your kitchen gnawing your bottom lip raw. Your nerves make you sweat, causing you to have to remove Harry’s “Treat People With Kindness” hoodie from your body as it was doing nothing to quell the fire in your belly. Your socked feet walked back and forth across the kitchen for what felt like twenty years before the timer on your phone went off causing you to jump, slapping a hand to your chest out of being startled. 

You let out the breath you were holding from your mini-scare and quickly turned off the timer with shaky hands. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath before slowly making your way back to your bathroom. Once you got there, you stood in front of the test for a moment before picking it up. You had to remind yourself that it would be okay if negative- just like every other time. You’d probably sit there and scold yourself for putting yourself through that madness again, but you’d be okay. You have Harry, and he’s all you need. 

Slowly, with your hands shaking, you close your eyes and pick up the test, flipping it around. All it takes is one more deep breath before you’re opening your eyes and facing the ‘negative’ result on the stick. However, what you see makes you fall to the floor below you in complete shock. 

It was positive. 

A sigh of relief that you had been holding since you took your first test was finally let out, and your eyes instantly welled up with tears. You literally couldn’t believe it. You were pregnant. You had been absolutely certain the test was going to be negative, yet here you were, sitting on the floor of yours and Harry's bathroom, looking at a positive pregnancy test. 

You were going to be a mother. You’d get to dress your baby in the cutest clothes, go shopping for said clothes with Anne, you’d be celebrating mothers day, and you’d finally get to hear Harry sing lullaby’s to your baby. Thinking of all of these things made you cry harder. You genuinely never thought you’d get here. 

After a few more minutes of sitting and crying, you picked yourself up and began planning on how you were going to tell Harry. You knew you wanted to keep it simple, but your mind was racing with ideas. However, you knew you’d tell him as soon as he got home. He’s been waiting just as long as you have for this news, and he deserved to know right away. 

Your newfound happiness inspired you to go to your kitchen and whip up some Fettuccine Chicken Alfredo. Harry says you make the best, but everyone knows Anne holds that rank. Yet, yours is not bad, but you hardly make it anymore, which is why you’re making it now. 

As soon as Harry steps into the house, he immediately smells your Alfredo dish. It’s his favorite, and he hadn’t realized how much he had missed it until now. He sets his keys down on the side table by the front door before following the scent of your cooking. Once he gets a little closer, he can hear you humming along to some tune that he can’t quite figure out. He turns the corner and stands in the doorway of the kitchen for a moment watching you prepare your plates while humming and dancing. The sight makes him smile faintly, his love for you surfacing after a long day of work. 

When he finally clears his throat to get your attention, you gasp and jump a bit, making him chuckle. You blush, but smile at him nonetheless as you make your way towards him. As you reach him, your hands make their way around his neck, playing with the hair that faintly curls at his nape. His hands settle on your waist and the two of you gaze at each other lovingly. 

“Hi baby,” Harry starts, smiling down at you. “Wha’s got you all happy today?” He asks. 

Once again, the butterflies and nerves from earlier return to your stomach, as you know you’re about to tell him that he’s going to be a father. You knew he’d be excited, but doubt can be a real bitch sometimes. 

“Hi Harry,” you say. “I’m just in a good mood, that’s all. How was work?” 

“It was good. Boring, but good. Glad to be home to you,” he says. At this, the two of you lean towards each other to lock in a sweet kiss. It’s the first since this morning, and it makes you feel content. 

“I’m happy you’re home,” you say. You leave his grasp and direct him towards the plates of food sat out on the counter. “I made your favorite tonight. Figured you’d want it after a long day.” 

“Know me so well baby,” he says as he leans down to press a kiss to your cheek. “Smells s’good.” 

You smile and hand him his plate as you take yours. The both of you head over to your dining table and take your seats across from each other to eat.

Throughout dinner, Harry tells you about his day and the plans he and his manager made regarding his career. You tell him about your day at work, and how you arrived late because of your car breaking down, but then tell him that it was overall a good day. 

After dinner is done and you and Harry are washing up dishes, you finally decide to tell him about your pregnancy. You’re nervous, but yet still confident, as you know he’ll be over the moon about the news. You bashfully turn your head to him, and blush- staring at him for a few moments. He’s washing up a pot, and he has a furrow in his brows from concentration. Once he’s done, he goes to hand the pot to you to dry it, which you take it, but he notices you’re staring. 

“Why’re you starin’ love?” He asks, a smirk painting his perfect lips. 

“I need to tell you something,” you say, setting the pot down after it’s been dried. 

A frown immediately takes over his features, as the phrase “I need to tell you something” scares him just as much as “We need to talk” does. 

“Is everything alright?” He asks, concern in his voice. 

“Yes,” you say with a light laugh. “Everything is more than alright, I just need to tell you something.” 

He nods, and you begin walking towards your bedroom to go fetch the test when you notice he’s following you. 

“Stay there,” you say. “I’ll be right back.” The frown on his perfect features deepens. 

Once you arrive in your bedroom and retrieve your test, you take a deep breath and give yourself some encouragement. It’s only Harry- your beloved husband Harry who loves you so much and is going to be absolutely thrilled once you tell him. 

You slowly leave the bedroom, walking back to your anxious husband who, in his mind, is worried you’re bringing him divorce papers. Once you see him, frown still very evident in his features, your hands start to shake. 

“I have something to give you,” you say, your voice sounding a bit shaky. 

“I thought you needed to tell me something,” he says, raising a perfect eyebrow. 

“Well, I do. This will tell you everything.” 

You walk towards him further, and instruct him to hold out his hands, which he willingly does. He looks down at you expectantly, and you smile up at him. 

“Close your eyes,” you say, making him groan in frustration. 

Once his eyes are closed, you slowly pull the positive test out from behind your back, and place it in his awaiting hands with your clammy ones. You grab his fingers and maneuver them to where they’re clasping the test in his fists. 

You step back from him, hands behind your back, beginning to chew on your lip some more. He still hasn’t opened his eyes back up, awaiting your command to do so. 

“You can open your eyes,” you speak out, and it makes him chuckle a bit before opening them. 

When his eyes open and his fists unclasp from around the test, he blinks a few times making sure he’s seeing what he’s seeing. As soon as he looks up and his eyes meet yours, you’re crying again. 

“Are you-?” he begins. “Are you really-” 

He doesn’t finish, as he looks up to see you nodding back at him. Once he sees your confirmation, he too begins crying, and you run towards him, his arms engulfing you in a much needed hug. 

“Oh baby,” he says through tears. “Finally, my love.” He presses consistent kisses on your forehead as your tears soak through his shirt. 

You hug him the tightest you have in a while, as your life is finally starting to feel complete. You were finally going to be a family, and it made you happier than anything ever has.

“How long have you known?” Harry asks after a few more moments of hugging. You pull apart and look up at him, your eyes puffy from all the crying.

“I found out a couple hours ago. I just took the test spontaneously. I didn’t expect for it to be positive,” you say as you wipe your eyes.

“I’m so happy, darling,” Harry says in a smile. He swiftly picks you up, catching you by surprise, and twirls you around the kitchen. You let out a squeal through smiles as he spun you around. When he set you back down, his lips immediately met yours, and you closed your eyes as you smiled into the kiss.

“We’re going to be parents, Harry,” you whispered up to him once your lips broke apart, your foreheads pressed together.

He closed his eyes and smiled down to you, his cheeks still wet from his tears. “Yes we are, my love.”

fin