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will-on-the-internet · 2 years

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Bacon and Broccoli Pasta | Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer comes home after a long case, and all you want to do is make him food. Maybe, just maybe, the two of you will fall in love over a bowl of pasta and old stories of food making people happy. Gender Neutral reader!

Warnings: This fic has a big focus on food, especially bacon, pasta, broccoli, and cheese! Mentions of Diana's schizophrenia, generic FBI case details, roommate x roommate fic that turns into lover x lover fic!

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: This is the first piece in my Food of Love series, where each fic is based on a different dish and the idea of love intertwined with food!

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Spencer was never a good cook. As much as he tried, he could never get the food to taste right, something always burned, and normally he’d have a kitchen at the end that looked like it had been hit by a bomb. So he gave up, and lived on take-out, microwave meals, and sometimes food that Rossi or Garcia dropped around, knowing that the genius required a good feed.

Except, suddenly you were there, in his life, and he had more food in his fridge than he knew what to do with.

You’d moved in six months ago, taking the empty bedroom that Spencer had no use for. The both of you liked the arrangement, you paid half the bills, neither one of you went to bed early, and for once, Spencer wasn’t lonely as soon as he stepped into his apartment. It was an adjustment for the young man though.

He’d never lived with someone else outside of his family when he was a child. Sure, he shared rooms with other people on the team occasionally when there weren’t enough rooms at a hotel, but this was living with someone. He learned how you liked your coffee, and you learned his complicated way of organising his hundreds of books. He realised that you hated sleeping with the window closed, and you figured out that he couldn’t sleep in complete darkness. And most importantly, you noticed that Spencer could not cook. And you could.

It was late on a Thursday night, nearing midnight when Spencer finally arrived home, weary and sore from a complicated case that had the team away for a whole week. His clothes were a mess, hair greasy and there was a large graze on his chin, but he could care less as soon as he got into the apartment.

And you were awake, too wired to sleep from all the coffee you’d downed, secretly worried about your roommate and praying he’d get back safely. He was already half-asleep on the couch, collapsed into the cushions without even taking off his shoes. And when you heard his bag drop to the floor, it had you jumping out of bed, happy to finally have him home.

“Spencer? You alright?” You can just see him over the edge of the couch, and after he mutters out some words that you don’t quite catch and then lets out a loud groan, you know he’s still awake enough to talk.

“I thought you’d be asleep by now.” He looked at you through curls that hadn’t been cared for in ages, and for a moment, you could tell he was trying not to fall asleep right there.

“You know me, I’m not sleeping until it’s past midnight. Plus, there was no chance after all the coffee I had today at the cafe.” He moves his legs so you can sit next to him on the couch, and you can’t believe how warm he is. “How was the case? Did you find the guy you were looking for?”

“It was fine, nothing unusual honestly. You know how those men are, huge ego and an inability to…perform.” You shudder, knowing exactly what he meant but also knowing you didn’t want to hear about a man “performing” at nearly midnight. So you had an idea, and before Spencer knew it, you were grabbing his hand gently and pulling him up from the couch.

“Okay, okay. Too much information. C’mon, you look like you could use a decent meal, and I need some way to burn all this caffeine.” You didn’t hesitate to wander into the kitchen, knowing Spencer was following behind you as he rubbed his tired eyes. “You have any idea about what you want to eat, or do you want me to choose?”

“Do you…do you have the stuff to make that pasta? The one with bacon and broccoli?” You saw his eyes light up as you nodded your head and pulled some rashes of bacon and a head of broccoli from the fridge, and that look of joy sent your heart in a tailspin.

“Out of all the dishes you want at midnight, you chose my grandpa’s pasta? I mean, I’m not complaining, it’s easy and quick and I can cook it all in one pan, but why?” You busied yourself with cutting up the bacon and broccoli, collecting the pasta from the pantry and making sure you had eggs, seasonings and cheese. Spencer watched as you worked, not taking his eyes off you as you chopped methodically in a way he’d never been able to master.

“Do you remember the night we had the case where three minors were abducted? And I came home around sunrise?” You knew exactly which case Spencer was talking about, remembering him coming home and collapsing in tears at the door. Hell, you’d only known him for two weeks or so, but you didn’t even hesitate to call in sick that day and be with him after such an awful case. You made him dinner that night, the first time you cooked for the both of you, and even though the two of you sat in silence while you ate, you knew that Spencer was feeling a little better.

He’d stopped you before you headed to bed, told you that he’d clean up the kitchen and that you should sleep because you had an early shift, and then, he hugged you. Grabbed you tight and never wanted to let go. He nearly second-guessed himself, thought you’d push him away because he’d been some kind of nuisance all day, but you just hugged him back, ruffled his hair in a sweet way that made him feel all warm and fuzzy, and told him to sleep well. He fell in love with you that night, and if you look back on it, you were pretty sure you were falling for him as well.

“You uh, made this pasta. And, I dunno, I’m too tired to think of some statistic about home or feeling comforted by food in times of distress…but you knew exactly what I needed. You didn’t even know me that well, and you just sat me down, made me a mug of hot chocolate, and started making pasta…”

You could tell that Spencer wanted to say more, but he stopped himself before he did. You didn’t want to push him either, knowing that he’d say what he wanted to say when he was ready.

“My mum used to cook a lot before the schizophrenia got worse. She loved spending her whole day in the kitchen when she needed a break from her books.” Spencer spoke while you cooked, raising his voice slightly over the spitting noise of hot oil with garlic, bacon and onion in a pan. “She’d sit me down in my chair and give me all these things to read or let me play with a pack of cards by myself while she cooked. I remember one day she came home so happy, because the local butcher had given her a pack of lamb shanks for free because he didn’t want them to go to waste, and she spent half the day making her special orange lamb shanks with crusty bread and sweet potato mash. She always made it when something special happened, like when I won a local chess tournament at age six, or on her thirtieth birthday. It was her special dish.” He stopped then, sensing that you were watching him. But he expected a look of annoyance or boredom like he was ruining the silence that you liked to cook in. Instead, you were smiling, a soft smile he loved oh so much, and so he kept talking.

“I was twelve when I got into my first university, and mum was having a good week for once. The doctor had put her on some new meds, dad had sent more money than usual, and the university told me that I’d get a full ride. She was so excited, she made this huge meal that was way too big for just the two of us. She made mac and cheese and salads and everything that she thought I might want, and she was so happy that I enjoyed it…but I think I enjoyed her being around more than I enjoyed the food. I think I like the idea that food can bring people together.”

“My dad was the one who taught me how to cook. He used to make all the meals in our family while mum worked and I went to school. He told me, that cooking and making food that fuels your body and makes it happy, is not just an act of love and service towards yourself, but also to the others around you.” You’re serving the pasta by then, getting out mismatched bowls from the cupboard and grating up some cheese to put on top, and you talk as you work. Spencer takes it upon himself to get glasses of water and forks for the both of you, quietly setting the table as you spoke.

“I asked why he always cooked, and never just got take out or used one of the microwave pizzas that we kept in the fridge, and he said, that he always wants to cook, not only because he enjoys making things and experimenting with food, but also because he constantly wanted to show me and my mum that he loved us, even if he wasn’t overly affectionate. Sure, sometimes his meals didn’t always work out, and we did end up getting takeaway, but mum and I knew he was doing everything he could to show us he loved us.”

“Is…is that why you cook so much? To show others you love them?” Spencer asks the question abruptly as if it spills from his mouth and he’s too late to stop it. The two of you are sitting at the table by now, a bowl of pasta in front of each of you, but neither of you wanted to start eating yet.

“I…I don’t really know. To be honest, I haven’t cooked this much in years, probably since I lived at home. I never had anyone to eat with where I used to live, so it just seemed like more of a chore than something I took pleasure out of. But I like making things for the people I love, and I like doing it more regularly.” You went quiet and gestured for him to eat, and even though the both of you knew that you were dancing around three little words that meant so much, neither of you were ready to say them.

When Spencer had his first bite of the pasta, he couldn’t help but groan in delight. He would have been embarrassed except for the fact that you grinned back at him, joy radiating off you. The pasta was thick and creamy, with enough richness to make goosebumps rise on your skin in enjoyment. The bacon had just enough of that smokey flavour that it blended well with the sharp parmesan cheese you’d used, and the broccoli was perfect. Nothing was too sharp or salty or bitter or greasy. The pasta was just cooked enough, but it wasn’t too soft either where it felt like it would fall apart in your mouth. You knew Spencer hated that.

“I don’t understand, I can barely make toast without burning it…and you can make a whole damn feast! Not fair.” You laughed at the man across from you, knowing he was being ridiculous. But he didn’t care because he couldn’t stop eating the food that made his heart feel warm and his body feel safe.

It was later when he told you that he’d clean up, that you should make yourself that cup of tea you wanted and take yourself to bed, but you didn’t want to leave the kitchen just yet. He assured you that he wouldn’t use the wrong scrubber on your precious fry pan, but you didn’t care about any of that. At one point, he was trying to bargain with you, because he could tell you were feeling exhausted by that point, and he just wanted to do something nice for you after you cooked him a very late/very early dinner, and when that’s when you saw your chance.

“Fine, Spencer, I’ll go to bed. Can you just grab me a glass of water?” He nodded, walking back to the sink to fill up your glass from the tap, before coming back to you with it in his hand. “Thank you, now I just need to do one more thing before I go to bed.” He thought you were going to ask for something else, but then you were coming closer and closer until your hand was on his cheek and he was leaning into your touch.

“Do…do I have something on my cheek–” That’s when you kissed him, softly and shyly at first. Spencer nearly started celebrating right then and there, before he realised he actually needed to kiss you back first. And he kissed you back with so much love and enthusiasm that he pulled a little gasp from you, shocked but pleasantly surprised when he took hold of your waist to hold you firmly against him. It wasn’t a perfect kiss by society’s standards, but it was perfect for the two of you, even if his breath was smokey and cheesy from the bacon, and your’s smelt like garlic from the pasta. Neither of you minded, and he didn’t mind when you pulled him from the kitchen, telling him that the dishes could wait in exchange for more kisses, in your bed, tucked under your covers.

Your dad always said that food could bring people together. But you never knew that it could have you and Spencer falling in love.

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Taglist: Find on my navigation page or ask to be added! Tagging: @scuttling @meganskane @spookydrreid @gay-prentiss @spencersendgame @fightingdragonswithreid @genevievedarcygranger @doctorspenceryeet @kodiakwhiskey @slaytherinthoughts @ssa-sarahsunshine @lil-stark @mess-in-side @meggie-m00n @reidselle @happymangospot @averyhotchner @xuckduck

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idreamofplaid · 3 years

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In Search of a Happy Ending

Square Filled: Cooking Dinner for @spndeanbingo & Head Cannon for @girl-next-door-writes Make Me Feel Bingo

Characters: Dean x Reader; Sam mentioned

Rating: Teen

Summary: Dean is ready to do whatever it takes to have his apple pie life.

Word Count: 1607

A/N: Thank you first for your friendship @dean-winchesters-bacon and for your beta read on this fic. I know I can rely on you for “Dean accuracy”.

From the moment Dean said “Sam’s gone to a museum thing in Kansas City,” you knew he was up to something.

“What kind of museum thing?” Your eyes narrowed at your boyfriend of seven months, but there was also a huge smile spreading across your face.

“Some kind of ancient Roman artifacts or something,” he answered while he stirred the pot on the stove. Sure Sam liked that sort of thing, but you’d never known him to make a weekend of going to a museum by himself, which conveniently left the bunker all to you and Dean.

You peeked inside the pot that Dean was pretending had all of his attention. He was making a red sauce. The smell of the basil and oregano he’d added to it made your mouth water. In a pan on another burner, he was sauteing chicken. The biggest surprise of all was the chopped up carrots and broccoli he added to the chicken. This was not Dean’s usual fare.

That made you even more pleasantly suspicious. “Want to try a taste?” Dean dipped the wooden spoon he was using into the sauce and blew on it to cool it down before holding it to your lips.

The sound you made was something similar to orgasmic, and your eyes closed to fully savor the flavor. “Dean, that’s amazing.” You opened your eyes and licked your lips. Dean smiled, clearly pleased you liked it, and there was the kind of happiness in his green eyes that once had rarely, if ever, been there. Things were different now. Chuck had been neutralized. Jack was in charge of the known universe, life had gotten much simpler, and with all these changes; Dean had finally allowed himself to relax.

You walked behind him and circled your arms around his waist, easing your hands underneath the bottom of his t-shirt. Dean’s stomach was one of your favorite parts of his body. It was soft, but you could still feel the strength of the muscle underneath. And that summed up Dean nicely. Soft and strong.

He was moving the chicken around the pan with a spatula, and he laughed. “You keep doing that, baby, and I’m never gonna finish cooking this dinner.”

“What? This?” you asked innocently, running one of your hands slowly up his torso to his chest. You’d chosen to go up instead of down, because if you’d done that it would have been all over, and this was clearly important to him.

Dean put down his cooking utensils and turned to you. He kissed you, his lips sweet and firm. “Yes. That. I promise I’ll take care of you real good later, but let me feed you first.”

Dean liked his food. That was no secret, but he liked sex more. So, what was up?

His hands slid below your waist to hold your hips, and his eyes held yours. Each time you saw them it felt like you were touched even more deeply by the intensity and beauty you found there.

Dean’s eyes scanned your face, and you smiled. “Go sit at the table. Food’s almost ready,” he told you with a quick kiss to your lips.

The plate Dean sat before you not only smelled divine; it looked good too. He had clearly done some research about food presentation. When he put a bottle of wine and two glasses down on the table, you knew something monumental was about to happen. Chicken and vegetables? Now wine?

Dean pulled out the chair across from you and sat down. You’d suggested the boys replace the industrial cafeteria style table with some real furniture to make the bunker seem more like a home, and they had agreed. You were still getting used to seeing Dean sitting in a wooden chair that was house worthy and at an actual table. He popped the cork from the wine bottle and poured you a glass. Wine with a cork too?

You sipped your wine and took a closer look at Dean. He was wearing that red shirt that made your heart flutter and your walls clench. It was somewhere between plaid flannel and an FBI white dress shirt on the fanciness scale. Was he trying?

That’s when you noticed Dean was looking at you too. Was he waiting for you to take a bite of your food? Waiting for you to say something? You couldn’t tell. So you cut a piece of chicken and put it into your mouth, along with a sugar snap pea.

“It’s good, Dean. Delicious actually.” He seemed to relax a little. What was going on with him?

You took another bite while Dean drank his wine. He had relaxed some, but something still seemed a little off, so you attempted to make conversation. “How long has Sam been planning this trip to the museum?”

“It was...uh...kind of a last minute thing.” Dean still hadn’t touched his food.

You put down your fork and looked at him intently, trying to read him. Dean dropped his eyes.

“Dean, what’s going on?” You reached across the table and put your hand over his, offering him reassurance about whatever it was he was carrying.

He raised his eyes back to yours and started slowly, “Y/N, there’s something I want to tell you.”

You curled your fingers around his thicker ones to hold his hand. “Okay, Dean. You know you can. Whatever it is.”

His tongue slipped out over his lips, wetting them. “There was something I did a long time ago.” He shifted a little in his seat.

“I...fixed myself. I mean...there was something that happened.” Dean looked uncomfortable enough that it made your heart hurt.

“There was this one hunt and…I met a woman. Only, she wasn’t a woman. She was an Amazon. I got her pregnant, and it was... a weird Amazon pregnancy.” He waved his hand around in the air and sighed.

“The...the baby was born a couple of days later. I... had a daughter, but Sam... killed her.” Your mouth fell open.

“Sam killed a baby?” Dean’s eyes darted to yours.

“No.” He was shaking his head. “No. She grew up as fast as she was born. Sam had to kill her because she was a monster, and she was going to kill me.” Dean hung his head and let go of your hand. “But she was still my kid.”

Dean’s words were falling out of his mouth unchecked. He was telling you things he’d never said before, things that helped explain more of who he was.

He brought his eyes back to yours, and what you saw in them was heartbreaking. “I never wanted anything like that to happen again, so I made sure it wouldn’t.”

You reached for his hand again, so you could hold it. You needed to hold it. “Dean, are you telling me you got a vasectomy?”

Dean clutched your hand, glanced away, and finally ventured a glimpse back at your eyes. “Yeah. But not anymore. I mean I undid it. I can...you know.”

He was so adorably flusterd it made you love him even more. “You had your vasectomy...reversed?”

Dean sighed deeply. “Yeah. That last hunt didn’t last quite as long as I told you it did.” He licked his lips. “I can...I mean I couldn’t ask you to marry me if I couldn’t give you children.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart swelled with more love than you had ever thought it possible to feel. Your heart was also pounding; you weren’t sure how to take what Dean had said.

“Dean, I...” Your fingers moved nervously over the back of his hand. Now he was the one asking you to trust him, needing you to love him.

He stumbled over his words, and it was delightful to see him so ruffled. “I mean I’m going to ask you to marry me better than this. It won’t be in the bunker kitchen. I’ll do it right. You deserve more than this.”

You stood up, walked around the table, and sat in his lap. You snuggled your face into his neck, needing to feel the closeness. Your smile was so wide you could feel it, and your heart was nearly bursting with joy.

“Dean, are you saying you reversed your vasectomy for me? That you want to have babies with me?”

“Yes.” He was so cute when he wasn’t his usual cocksure self.

You brushed your fingers slowly through his short, soft hair. “I love you, Dean Winchester.”

His lips were soft when you touched them with yours, and when you pulled away; his eyes were even softer. “I want to give you anything you want, Y/N. But I can’t. Not yet. I mean...I have to wait. Doc says I’m healing. I can’t...But I can still make you feel good.”

You kissed his forehead and then his cheeks. “Come to bed with me, Dean. There’s plenty of time for all that later. I just want to hold you, feel you hold me.”

Dean stood and took your hand to lead you back to his room. You left the beautiful meal he’d prepared on the table. The chicken could get cold; the chicken didn’t matter. All that mattered was your love for each other.

He’d done it for you, thinking about a future with you, and that was what mattered. That, and the fact, Dean had basically just said he was going to ask you to marry him. All the hurt of the past could be put to rest. You’d make him happy. You would.

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @peridottea91 @logical-princey @emilyshurley @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @67-chevy-baby @fandom-princess-forevermore @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @heycasbutt @jules-1999 @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @mrs-meghan-winchester @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @becs-bunker @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @sea040561 @dawnie1988 @volleyballer519 @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @daisymoder72 @sorenmarie87 @lovealways-j @deansotherotherblog @mrswhozeewhatsis @spnbaby-67 @wayward-and-worn @asthesunwentdown @vulgar-library @thinkinghardhardlythinking @calaofnoldor @petitgateau911 @deanwanddamons

Dean/Jensen: @deansyahtzee @flamencodiva @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @focusonspn @akshi8278 @ladywinchester1967 @sgarrett49 @wingedcatninja @coffee-obsessed-writer @adoptdontshoppets @ellewritesfix05 @weepingwillowphoenix

#spndeanbingo #make me feel bingo #dean angst #dean fluff #dean x reader #dean oneshot

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foxymoxynoona · 3 years

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Ashtoreth

Ok, I had told Tae_ree on ao3 that I was inspired by her story Cam Girl back in the day to barf out a little cam girl story of my own, which I then immediately abandoned. I looked and I wrote this on July 20, 2020. It's not a full story arc or anything, just a little snippet I abandoned BUT I had forgotten that actually this was a stepping stone to writing Amended and Meadow, as you'll see from some themes I repurposed. I thought I'd share even though this isn't really a complete story because I think it can be interesting to see how inspiration and ideas morph over time into something completely different.

Content warnings for this: nsfw, 18+ , cam girl, voyeurism, masturbation, I don't actually know anything about cam girls and I didn't bother to learn since this was just a little writing exercise, so there ya go...

Tattoo Artist!JK x Camgirl!Reader

He didn’t watch much. Well, he watched plenty of porn, but Jungkook didn’t follow live camgirls because seeing the show live made him feel… awkward. Nervous. It felt so intimate, to have a girl talking live to the camera, to be able to type in the chat and have her notice your comment. It made it feel too much like a living, breathing person --not that he didn’t think women in porn were real! But… it was an image he was watching. Something a woman had cultivated, edited, decided to share. A live camgirl was performing in a different way and…

Well, he just felt guiltier watching camgirls. So he didn’t watch them much. Maybe he’d tune in if there was one on, and then he’d feel too ashamed of his own… earnestness. Live cam girls were a level of intimacy that… that was cruel. That he wanted. Camgirls reminded him too clearly of what he didn’t have in real life, and that made him feel ashamed and pathetic and broken. And so he’d leave almost as soon as he started watching and go find some safe, static porn.

But there was one. Ashtoreth. He couldn’t resist her. He was pathetic, weak for this woman, and wound up making an account --which he never did-- just so he could subscribe and get alerts whenever she scheduled a show. Even just the act of getting an alert made him stiffen, made the blood start to trickle south, because he knew what was coming.

He didn’t know what Ashtoreth’s face looked like. And she often wore colored wigs, so whatever he did see wasn't identifiable She had a pretty average body, neither the fit nor voluptuous extremes that tended to dominate the suggested videos. She had a somewhat soft belly and hips and thighs. She had those stripes on the inside of her thighs, too. And a beautiful tattoo along her hip that he desperately wanted to see in closer detail. Her tits weren’t huge, but soft and squeezable and real. Sometimes she presented herself bare to the camera, other times tidy, and sometimes fully grown out. She said she felt like it was a matter of principle to create videos with natural hair growth, even if she preferred to be better kept because she often got horny and juicy throughout the day and it was easier for her to keep clean. That had fucked Jungkook up for a little while. It didn’t help that she had the prettiest pussy he had ever seen, beautifully shaped and colored, and even just tuning in to see how much he’d be able to see was worth the effort. And he liked the idea that she had principles like that.

In fact, he liked all the things she talked about. She was very personable, in a way that was horribly endearing. She played video games, which had actually been what struck him first; that was how he’d found her, because he’d seen that a camgirl was playing Overwatch with a vibrating egg in, and so he’d tuned in, and she was good, and it meant the next time he’d played, it had made him too hard to concentrate, remembering the way she’d whined and moaned and cum just after she’d won her match. Fucking dream girl.

She took suggestions of things to do from high donors, within reason. He wasn’t the only one that liked when she got sort of passionate and fixated on something interesting she’d learned and wanted to share. She spoke several languages and alternated between them --English and Spanish. She claimed to speak more Korean, but never spoke that on her cams, and Jungkook was far too shy to ask her to. It would do him in, but it was also his fucking dream. Did she really speak Korean? It seemed so unusual for a foreigner.

So he liked the things she spoke about too, he liked when she shared her interests, even though it made him feel guiltier because he knew he was looking for the wrong sorts of connections in porn. A cam girl was just performing. It was possible everything she talked about was fake. She was trying to earn money, after all. It funded the toys she bought, the pretty lingerie. People funded those things, all the men and women who tuned in to watch her tease herself into a whining mess and then cum all over the sheets. She’d taught herself to squirt on camera, even giggling at how unreliable it was. She’d just started doing some anal and admitted it made her nervous. She was just so sweet and sexy at the same time, and it all fed into this horrible, horrible fixation Jungkook had that she was his dream girl, even though he knew it wasn’t true and it wasn’t real.

And then at the end of a live, she’d curled up on her side, flushed, panting a little, hand lazily stroking her hip, and said in Korean, “By the way, I thought I’d mention here because my stats say I have a lot of viewers from Asia, but I’m looking for a tattoo artist and it’s hard to find. So if anyone knows a good one in Korea, let me know!”

Jungkook came on his hand. He hunched forward, spluttering and frozen. It had ruined his good orgasm, the shock --he always had good orgasms when he jerked himself off to watching her. He particularly loved after she came, the way she lay there and giggled sort of breathily and talked about the random things that came to mind. But he had not expected her to speak Korean for the first time. And he had not expected her to ask for tattoo artist recommendations.

He froze. He stared at the screen, grunting a little as his cock twitched. Should he-- no. He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. That would be stupid. And weird. And creepy. But like… what the fuck? Did she actually live in Korea?? Her profile didn’t give a location, but he’d always assumed the States since she spoke English primarily. Did… what… and she needed a tattoo artist…

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck,” he grumbled, grabbing a tissue and wiping his hand off. He couldn’t say anything. He shouldn’t.

But if he didn’t, her other followers would, right? Why was she asking for recs? She was setting herself up for harassment! She couldn’t just ask people who watched her pleasure herself for IRL recommendations!

Frantic with a need to protect her, it was perhaps the only thing that could have led him to message her.

GKtat97: hello. Are you sure it’s a good idea to ask for suggestions here? You could get bad guys answering

Ashtoreth: hello. Are you saying you’re a bad guy? ;)

GKtat97: no! I’m very serious! Be safe! But if you need a place my friend does really good tattoos in seoul. I don’t know where you are looking but I didn’t know you were in Korea

Ashtoreth: oh really? Yes I have moved a few times but I’m currently in Korea. Does your friend work in a parlor somewhere?

GKtat97: yes. Byeolbit Tattoo downtown. Whole studio of great artists

Ashtoreth: awesome, thank you! Have you had work done there?

GKtat97: yeah

Ashtoreth: cool I will definitely take a look. Thank you for the recommendation! What’s your friend’s name?

GKtat97: anyone there is good but my friend is jjk. If you ask for him, he’ll hook you up

Ashtoreth: excellent, I’ll check out his portfolio on their website. Thanks babe :*

Fuck fuck fuck, what was he doing? If anything, he should have suggested her to one of his friends there. Because what if she actually did follow up? What if she made an appointment and came in for a tattoo by him and he got to touch her… fuck, that was entirely unprofessional. He couldn’t do it. Maybe if she knew he was the one watching her, then he wouldn’t feel so morally conflicted, but there was no way he could tell this woman to her face oh yeah, that was me messaging you, I watch you finger yourself to get off. Fuck.

Well. It was highly unlikely she’d be following up, anyway. He comforted himself with that. Probably a dozen guys were messaging her now, trying to get her business so they could tattoo her body.

Ugh. She’d called him babe. He groaned and felt his cock twitch in pleasure just at that reality. She’d called him babe, this faceless woman with the beautiful voice and body. Fuck.

As far as he could tell, no one unusual had reached out to the tattoo parlor, though it was hard to really guess what that would mean. He’d idly flipped through the appointment calendar but of course it wasn’t like she’d make an appointment under Ashtoreth. No one had requested him out of the ordinary. And she’d done a couple more lives in the past couple weeks, so he figured that meant she’d decided to go with someone else. Which hurt a bit, sure, but he was trying to be an adult about it. After all, it was for the best.

And then during lunch, Mina popped her head back and asked, “Hey, there’s a woman who came by to see if you can do a consult…”

“Is she in the schedule?” Jungkook asked.

Mina made a face but admitted, “No… but that’s my fault. I’ve been trying to get something scheduled for her for a couple weeks now and forgot to write it down-- I’m sorry!”

Jungkook rolled his eyes and teased, “Mina, it’s the whole point of your job to write it down…”

“I know. I feel so bad. I’ll buy your lunch tomorrow. Can you meet with her now?”

“Fine.”

He shoved one final bite of food into his mouth, then went to wash his hands and rinse his mouth out so he wouldn’t risk sauce or broccoli in his teeth for a consult. He was still hungry but maybe if this went quickly he’d have time to scarf down the rest of it.

He stepped out to the front area where a woman sat in one of the chairs, looking a little uncomfortable actually. He thought it must be her first tattoo and that she was nervous; he got a lot of young women in for their first tattoo, a little butterfly or hummingbird on their ankle or wrist. She stood when he approached and gave him a rather dubious smile.

“Are you Jeon Jungkook?” she asked. In Korean, which was unusual but not unheard of for a foreigner. A young woman had probably come here to teach or something and learned the language, but she had a good grasp of it.

“Yes. Hello.”

“I’m Y/N,” she answered, shaking his hand.

“Nice to meet you. Sorry about the mix up--”

“It’s my fault!” Mina sighed dramatically.

“I’m sorry I’m interrupting your lunch. Should I come back another day?”

“No, it’s fine. What are you looking for?”

“Well, I um, I need one covered up and I was hoping to get something custom to cover it. I saw your portfolio and it looks like you’ve done that kind of thing before.”

He nodded, “Yeah, it’s not a problem. Do you have ideas?”

“Yeah… but I’m also kind of open… I’m not an artist, so…”

“Can you show me what you’re wanting covered up?”

“Uh, yeah…”

“We can step back here,” Jungkook offered when she seemed a little shy. She followed him back to one of the pods and leaned her hip against the table as if for strength, then lifted her shirt to show him a man’s name scrawled across her ribs.

“Is it ok if I examine it?” he asked her. She nodded and he sat on a stool to lean in close and look. It was not well done; if it was the man’s copied signature, he had an ugly hand, but the tattoos itself was also uneven, too shallow in some places, too deep in others. However the scratchy and loopiness of it would be pretty easy to design a pattern over.

“I can see by your face it’s ugly. I know. It was… complicated,” she admitted. “I keep it covered with make up usually but I want it gone.”

“That’s easy to cover,” he assured her. “What do you want over it?”

“Well, I thought-- I have this tattoo,” she told him, lifting the other side of her shirt to expose the flower design crawling out of the waistband of her pants over her hip.

Jungkook froze. She was talking but he didn’t hear anything she said because he knew that tattoo. This was Ashtoreth. He looked up at her face, frozen with shock. This was Ashtoreth’s face. How had he not recognized her voice? But she was speaking Korean and he’d only heard her speak it that once and he hadn’t expected this

“Will that work?” she asked.

“Sorry… could you repeat?” Fuck.

“If it can match this?” she asked him. “Except adding in some violets.”

“Oh. Yes. That’s not a problem,” he assured her. “Um, how big are you thinking?”

She motioned with her hands, then asked, “Am I going to die? I know rib tattoos are supposed to be pretty bad… But I’ve had a baby and I got this thing so I’m not a total baby…”

“You have a kid?” he repeated, then immediately cursed himself. Why did that matter? But it was a real thing about her and it was not what he’d expected.

“Um, yeah. Do you have kids?”

“No,” he said simply. And then because apparently he couldn’t stop himself, he pointed, “I guess he wasn’t a very good father, huh?”

She gave him a small laugh and a crooked grin that made his heart actually flutter and agreed, “No, he wasn’t. But I did get something good out of it, so that’s what I want to cover his name with.”

“Flowers?”

“Violets. My daughter with him is called Violet.”

“Ah. That’s… sweet.” He looked away from her, sliding over to the counter to get his camera. “Can I take a picture? I’ll draw a design and you can leave your email with Mina. Once we get that, we’ll make an appointment.”

“Ok. Yes.” She turned to the side and held her shirt steady for him to take a picture of the names, a couple so he’d be able to recreate it flat.

“Mind if I get one of that too, so I can remember it?”

“Do you want the whole thing?”

“No, just the top is fine, if this has all the style elements you want.” So turned and posed for him to get this second one, and he tried to ignore that he was sweating a little to now have personal photos of Ashtoreth. This wasn’t ok. It wasn’t ok. It was unethical. It was ok for him to tattoo her if she knew he knew, but otherwise it was unethical, right?

But he didn’t tell her. Because he was stupid and struck a little dumb by her. He couldn’t comprehend that he was seeing her in person right now, that he was seeing the tattoo up close that had factored into how many of his solo sessions now? And this other tattoo, that never showed in her videos! He knew something now none of her other viewers did.

She thanked him for his time and he promised to get her a sketch within a week and then she left. The whole exchange had been so… normal, compared to how he might have envisioned it.

She hadn’t been anything like he’d expected, but maybe that wasn’t fair. He tuned into her next live after debating it, but he couldn’t bring himself to miss it. He wanted to see if he could see traces of her bad tattoo, but she did a good job of hiding it.

Anyway, why should he be surprised that she had been polite and sweet and a little shy? Because he didn’t expert a camgirl to be those things in real life? But that came through in her cams and it was one of the things that had even initially drawn him to her channel.

It was different now though. She slid her fingers down her panties and he knew what her face looked like. She pressed her fingers into her wet hole and he knew she’d had a child. He knew her real hair color and her real eye color and the sound of her voice in person. Soon he would spend hours hunched over her body, etching something permanent into her skin that would hopefully please her, that all her viewers would see on her. How would she unveil it? Would she give him credit? She’d already been very excited about the design he’d emailed her.

#mywriting #tumblronly #jk x reader #bts smut #drabble

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fanfic-me-up · 4 years

Text

Birthday Boy || Kaminari Denki

Synopsis: You plan Denki the most epic party, but save the best gift for last 😉

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x fem!Reader

Warnings: M/E+, 18+, explicit sexual content, heavy drinking (but being safe about it)

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: This is for the @bnhabookclub bingo event! Huge thanks to @shoutogepi for betaing, u always come thru for my denki content, like where would i be without u 😭 This is for Denki’s b-day (that passed lol) but ima just post anyway so hope you enjoy! 💖

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Denki’s in the corner overlooking the scene in front of him with a drunken smirk on his face. This party is going down as the most epic rager in the history of ragers. The spacious backyard allowed you to hire a DJ to come in and pump beats through a bad ass stereo system that even Jirou approved of. And she has unbelievably high standards considering her quirk. The bass is turned up all the way that Denki can feel it thumping against his chest.

You took the time to decorate the rest of the yard with canopies and fairy lights, providing a pretty backdrop over the starry sky. Denki’s birthday is in summer so the breeze tickling his skin was just right. People are still splashing in the pool despite it being ten at night.

Denki sees you across the yard, waving goodbye to the taco man you hired. You actually planned the whole party on your own. Denki had no idea how you balanced party planning with late-night work shifts, all the while keeping it a secret so Denki wouldn’t find out.

Then again, it wasn’t that hard to keep it from him, Denki literally heard you on the phone, hiring the taco man for his birthday, and he still didn’t think anything of it. You made sure to invite all of his pro-hero friends. It was relatively tame for the first hour until Sero challenged Denki to a keg stand, and Denki has no shame so there he stood in the middle of his backyard at two in the afternoon, hanging upside down with Sero and Kirishima holding him up, and guzzling as much beer as he could before he toppled over. The Bakusquad all yelling “CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!” and of course, Bakugou had to chime in, saying he could do it for longer.

And that’s how all the pro-heroes of the future generation that are deemed “noble saviors” by society end up challenging each other to various drinking games. You got the cheap booze, but no one could tell the difference by the third cup.

“You say… boobs? where...” Mineta slurs, wrenching his guts out into a flower pot. Poor flower.

Oh. Denki just narrated that whole beginning scene out loud. In the third person. Whoops.

Nobody wanted to invite Mineta, but it was Denki’s party so they all stuck it out for one night. After a few rounds of the typical high school party games in which Bakugou took every opportunity to shit all over -

“Why the fuck… we’re pro… pro-heroes... playin’ this… this... kiddy… sippy cup shit…”

Don’t worry, Kirishima shuts Bakugou up real fast. With his mouth.

“No one shuts me up! You hear… I- I will fuuuck…” Kirishima pulls Bakugou in for another kiss, and Denki peeps some tongue. Go Kiribaku! Mina, of course, came up with the ship name, she comes up with all of them, but Denki loves the ship name you two share the most. It’s what Mina calls… fuck… what’s it stand for? T-O-P? P-O-T? O-T-P? Denki shrugs, thinking it’s one of ‘em, and that he definitely ships you with him all day every day.

Where are you by the way? Denki needs his fill of you, a kiss every twenty minutes dammit! He hangs onto the wall when he walks, the room spinning way too much, but he’s still able to discern you from the chaos. A halo of light surrounds your figure, giving you an angelic appearance, though that can just be Denki’s vision going in and out of focus.

Denki lifts his hands up to his face, as if he were a photographer trying to get the best angle for a shot. You’re collecting empty cups from people and refilling them with water. At least that’s what Denki surmises since everyone groans when you hand them back their cup.

“Oh no, Y/N, Denki’s doing that thing again with his hands where he’s pretending to be a cameraman! Help!”

Denki giggles at the talking broccoli in his living room. Broccoli is such a nice guy, always looking after everyone, he's the number one broccoli for a reason ya know.

Denki couldn’t have asked for a better girlfriend, I mean, have you seen yourself? You strut over like a model that could end Tyra Bank’s whole damn career, hips swaying in a seductive rhythm to the marching drum of Denki’s soundtrack in his head. Denki really wants to run his hands all over you, dammit, he’s been hoping to get you alone since this afternoon for some birthday sex, but with all the last-minute planning you were doing, it was never the right time.

“Now’s a good a time as any, birthday boy.” You whisper in his ear, making Denki jump when he realizes you caught him narrating out loud. This is why Denki loves you. You put up with all his weird shit.

Denki lurches forward, wobbling slightly, and proceeds to drag you upstairs. You giggle at his impatience, looking around to find the Bakusquad passed out on the couch and definitely staying the night. No way in hell are you letting anyone go home in their inebriated state. Sero is wrapped from head to toe in his own tape after Denki dared him to mummify himself. Mina is curled up on one side of the couch with her makeup miraculously still in place after all the swimming, dancing, and streaking (yes, you heard that correctly, it was a dare) Kirishima and Bakugou are cuddling on another couch, with Bakugou’s head tucked into Kirishima’s arm. Halfway through the night, Kirishima lost his shirt and he’s just been chilling shirtless the entire night.

“Hold up, this is too good,” you giggle, motioning for Denki to pose in the middle. Denki looks about ready to pass out next to them, with his eyes half-closed and smile so dopey, you’d think he just came back from overusing his quirk. You take a picture of the chaos that is your boyfriend and friends, and decide it will definitely make it into the scrapbook.

Denki drags you down the hall, like this is his first time exploring the place you’ve shared for the past two years, and leads you into every room.

“Denki, this is the bathroom!”

“Then why is there a bed?” He looks genuinely confused trying to pull you into the bathtub.

“Okay, you are way too drunk. Sure you can get it up?” You wonder if he’ll even remember your sexcapades in the morning.

“I’ll let you be the judge,” Denki pulls your hand to his crotch, which is already rock-solid through his jeans. You bite your lip, teasing the outline with your fingertips, and relishing in every twitch of his hardness. Denki huffs, clearly wanting to get this show on the road, because he throws your hand off and drags you into the next room so fast you trip over your feet.

Denki pumps his arms and shouts “huzzah!” in victory when he finally finds the bedroom, and you giggle at the loveable doof. But, any sign of light-hearted energy vanishes the moment Denki’s lips are on you. Before you know it, you’re pushed against the door, with your thighs spread apart. Anticipation swirls in the pit of your stomach, bubbling at the newfound friction of Denki’s thigh rubbing against your delicate center. He takes it upon himself to rub his cock against the inside of your thigh with absolutely no shame.

“Eager now, are we?”

Hell yeah, Denki’s eager, birthday sex is best sex… well, any sex is best sex as long as he’s getting sex. Heh. Denki should take a shot every time he says sex.

“I think you’ve had enough shots to last you till next year, birthday boy.”

Fuuuuck Denki didn’t know birthday boy was a thing for him, but now he needs every day to be his birthday, just so you call him that. And oh my god who the hell decided criss-cross straps were a good idea? It’s like a fucking maze trying to figure out how to unclasp your bra. You reach around to unclasp it yourself when Denki whines in frustration. He cuts his whine mid-way, when he sees your naked chest, nipples taut and ready to be played with. Just when he’s about to pinch your nipple, you send him for a loop and flip positions, trapping him against the door. And Denki is 100% okay with that too.

“Tell me what you want. I’ll make it the best gift you’ve gotten tonight, birthday boy, ”

You whisper directly into his ear, nibbling and licking at the lobe. You’re awarded with a slurred giggle that brings a smile to your own face. Denki throws his shirt over his head, but instead of it looking sexy like a Taylor Lautner scene in Twilight, Denki ends up getting his head stuck. You torture him for a few seconds by just standing there watching him get his arms tangled in the mix before finally helping him.

He’s still wearing that ridiculous Pikachu party hat Kirishima gave him, and when you try to slip it off, he swats your hand away. You pull his shirt over his head, and come to the conclusion that it’s not true birthday sex if said birthday boy isn’t wearing a 99 cent store party hat. Nothing can stop the delicious tingling making your pussy flutter.

He pins you with his sudden change of demeanor, even though you’re the one pinning him against the door. It amazes you how he can change from this doof wearing a party hat to 'yeah, fuck me, daddy' in three seconds straight. The electricity sizzling the room is squeezing your heart threatening to burst, as you take in Denki’s unrelenting gaze.

“I want you naked, on your knees, and worshipping my cock, unwrapping it with your tongue.”

You gulp at the unexpected switch, heat pulsing between your thighs as newfound wetness seeps through. A dark tone colors the usual tenor timbre of his voice. You slide out of your jeans and Denki takes his time ravishing every inch of your naked body with his honey-glazed eyes. He weaves his fingers, massaging the roots of your hair, and pulls you down so your eye level with his crotch.

“And then you’ll thank me for the gift by swallowing every last drop of my cum.”

Your mouth waters at his bulge on display, and you can’t stop yourself from mouthing him through his jeans. You nose at the rough fabric, biting the zipper and pulling it down with your teeth. You make sure to look up at Denki when you press a teasing kiss to the tip where there’s a wet spot, pre-cum leaking through his boxer briefs. His lips are kiss-bitten red partnered with a cute flush spread across the apples of his cheeks like he’s been out in the sun a little too long.

You love every part of Denki, you really do, but he’s giving you the sign to hurry up with how he’s literally grinding against your face. His cock bobs, hitting his stomach, when you pull his briefs down; it’s pinker than usual, he’s been horny for a while you think, and it’s leaking so much pre-cum that it’s running down the shaft. You nuzzle your face in, taking in his scent at the most concentrated part of him. You might burst if you don’t touch yourself, but it’s Denki’s night, and you want to focus all your attention on pleasing him. You’re busy having this internal debate when you hear a gruff voice from above you.

“It’s okay, baby girl, go ahead n touch yourself.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You spread your legs enough to trace the outline of your folds and gather enough of your juices to start rubbing your clit in a fierce rhythm. At the same time, you lick the underside of Denki’s cock, following the path of the vein leading up to the head, where you swirl your tongue in circles. You pull off the tip with a pop.

“Birthday boy’s gone quiet,” you whisper, looking up at Denki. It’s true. He hasn’t made a sound which makes you a little concerned he’s not enjoying it. You voice this concern openly.

“Am I doing it wrong?”

He shakes his head, “No, baby, I love it… just… enjoying the view,” his breath hitches at the end.

Fuck, Denki thinks, how could that even cross your mind? Not when you’re naked on your knees, chest blossomed with different colored hickeys Denki’s left on you from the week before. You’re giving him that doe-eyed look that completely contradicts your naughty actions of suckling his balls. Denki bites his lip when your tongue peeps from your lips to get his cock warm and wet, but what he doesn’t expect is for you to pull away. Denki groans at the loss of heat surrounding his cock. You wipe the spit dribbling from your lips with the back of your hand.

“Babe, I love you and all your weirdness, but I will stop going down on you if I have to hear you refer to yourself in the third person one more time.”

“But it’s my birthday,” Denki moans, banging his head against the door.

You roll your eyes, tempted to retort with “it’s my mouth,” but pleasuring Denki is top priority, and apparently Denki very much agrees with this sentiment as he forces your head towards his cock. You don’t have time to catch your breath before you’re diving face-first into a mouth full of Denki. Tears spring from your eyes at the shock of his cock hitting the back of your throat, but once you relax your throat and neck, you return to rubbing circles against your dripping clit to the same rhythm of Denki fucking into your mouth. You moan, causing vibrations to thrum around his cock and travel through every synapse of his body.

“Fuck yeah mmmmm… just like that, knew you could do it, fuck baby you take me in so good like my cock was made for your tight little pussy and mouth,” Denki groans, unable to filter what’s coming out of his mouth. The sight of his cock going all the way in and out of your mouth, sucking him in almost as good as your pussy, makes his balls tighten and he knows he’s getting close.

“You like that, huh? You like being stuffed full of my cock? You don’t care which hole as long as I’m fuckin’ into one, isn’t that right, baby girl?”

You moan in response, eyes rolling in the back of your head, as you chase the high you’re so desperately looking for. The end is in sight, just around the corner. You press your fingers harder against your clit, rubbing intense figure eights, as you choke on Denki’s cock. Your jaw is starting to ache, but you’re at the home stretch now. When you try to pull off to gasp for air, Denki grips your hair tighter, and thrusts his hips forward. All you can do is sit there and take his thick cock, saliva dripping down your chin, mixing with the sweat glistening your chest. Your nose is pressed against his pelvis, so each time you breathe in, the scent of Denki hits you hard, his happy trail tickling the inside of your nose.

“Fuck, baby, you have no idea how hot you look right now touching yourself. Like swallowing my cock turns you on that fuckin’ much.”

The raw power of having Denki above you, saying these filthy things, even with that fucking party hat on, is making your pussy flutter, almost like your body is begging for him to slide into you this instant. As a compromise, you insert two fingers into your pussy and start to rock your hips, riding your fingers in time to Denki fucking your mouth.

“Ah shit ah… mmmmm you wish it was my cock inside you, huh? Bet you’re so fuckin’ soaked that I’d slide right in.”

You moan in affirmation, your pussy quaking at the suggestion, begging to be filled. The coil tightening your core is about to snap, and your thighs shake in sheer anticipation of the wave of pleasure about to spill. Just when you’re about to come, Denki pulls you out from under him. You only have a moment to gasp for much-needed air before you’re slammed up against the door. Denki slams into you so deep that his cock hits your g-spot on the first thrust. He’s ramming into you so hard that your thigh starts to slip down. Denki picks you up, patting your bum as a signal for you to wrap your legs around his waist.

“Tell me…mmmm fuuuck…how much you love my cock,” he finally grits out, his words getting lost between the sounds of your love-making.

You didn’t expect to be pleasured tonight by Denki, and honestly, you were completely okay with finishing yourself off, but knowing that he’s taking the time to make sure you’re taken care of when it’s his night turns you on even more. A filthy, squelching sound can be heard every time Denki pushes in, coating his cock with your juices.

“Ah… mmmm… I love your cock, baby - love… how... mmmm… it fits in my mouth... and fills me up. I love when you’re inside me, and... you fill me up with your cum and there’s so much it drips out… Your cock is the best I’ve ever had… God baby, I feel like it’s my birthday tonight.” You babble in between kisses and moans.

“I want you to feel good too, baby, now come on lemme hear you scream. I want everyone downstairs to know you’re taking my cock and loving it.”

Both of you are a damn mess at this point. Your hair sticking to your face, and drool dribbling down your chin, but all you can think about is the wave of pleasure about to seize your entire being. Denki feels it too since he starts thrusting at an uneven pace, but still able to hit your g-spot with unapologetic precision, like the sharpshooter he is.

It takes one more deep thrust to topple you headfirst into the abyss of your long-awaited orgasm, and oh does it feel good.

“Denki! I- oh god- right there! Right fucking there, oh god I-I’m- mmmm...”

A scream is ripped from your throat, as your back is slammed against the door, your boobs bouncing up and down from the sheer force of Denki’s thrusts. He found his way down to your pussy, making sure to rub your clit with his thumb, so you get the dual sensation. Liquid heat rushes through every inch of you, releasing any and all tension from your body. Denki continues to fuck into you, making sure you come more than once. He groans when your pussy clenches around his dick, but he doesn’t stop riding your orgasm out with you until you’re completely spent. Your body buzzes in the blissful after-effects, but you come back to reality when Denki grunts.

“Fuck, babe, lemme come all over that pretty face.”

You whine at the dull throb of your pussy, the thought of being covered in Denki’s seed is exciting you despite just getting off. You unwrap your legs from his waist, and make your way down on your knees once again. Denki takes himself in his hand and works himself in overtime with coordination you had no idea he still possessed while being this tipsy. Seeing the outline of his flexing bicep reminds you of how much power he wields over you. You eagerly await for him to finish on you. You lick your lips, hoping to catch any drops of come that land in your mouth.

“Say ah,” Denki pries your jaw open with his other hand.

“Ahhhh,” you obey, looking up at him expectantly. You run your fingers wherever you can; his arms, down his stomach, his thighs like you don’t know where to hold on to for purchase. He speeds his hand up a little more, his jaw clicks and you see his jawbone protrude, giving a masculine, angular look to his face. Everything about Denki right now screams dominance that you’re wondering if this is even your Denki. You’re taken out of your thoughts when he groans, spilling his seed all over your face and in your mouth.

“Just like that… fuck yeah… now swallow like the good girl I know you are.”

There’s so much come that it drips down your chest and between your cleavage. He groans at the sight of you covered in his seed, and he makes sure to milk every last drop. You make sure to look up at him when you swivel his cum around like your finger painting, before bringing it up to your mouth and sucking it. You make sure to lick yourself clean, not wanting any to go to waste, and Denki watches with his mouth slightly open and chest heaving, trying to catch his breath, but it’s impossible with the image in front of him.

Once you finish putting on a show, you get up and take Denki by the hand to lead him to the bed you share. There’s a moment of stillness, electricity still buzzing through the room, but you’re both way too exhausted from the long day to have any energy to really bask in the afterglow. You’re caught up in your own thoughts, but you’re interrupted when you hear a “honk” and catch Denki blowing a kazoo with his party hat barely hanging onto the side of his face. You still can’t believe you came with him wearing that hat; you must really love him. He looks thoroughly fucked out and like he’s just had the best birthday ever.

Denki’s had the best birthday ever. Period. He turns to snuggle into you, despite both of you being sweaty and sticky. He wants to feel you against him.

“Thank you, Y/N, for today, and for all the birthdays before, and the many others to come. I feel like the luckiest guy in the world being able to spend them all with you.” He trails off as a yawn takes over. You lean forward to kiss him lovingly on the lips. Your noses rub together in that sickly sweet way that everyone secretly loves, but pretends to hate if they see another couple doing it.

And as his eyes threaten to shut, Denki thinks it’s a perfect finish to a perfect night. The end. He faintly hears you giggle, and the last thing Denki hears before he drifts to sleep is-

“It’s only the beginning, birthday boy, only the beginning. Happy birthday, Denki.”

#kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #kaminari denki #kaminari denki smut #bnhabookclub #denki kaminari x reader #kaminari smut #kaminari denki imagine #kaminari denki scenarios #bnha smut #bnha #bnha fanfic #bnha fic #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha fic

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broccoliboix5peepeeman · 3 years

Note

Hi💛 I've suddenly found your blog and I'm in love with its adorableness. I hope you're okay with me sending a prompt. I just need more fluff with Todoroki siblings: Shoto being too lazy on the weekend at his siblings' house and refusing to get up, so they try to get him out the bed to start a new day (Natsuo never stops teasing him about his relationship with Izuku)

Gahhh thank you so much - that really warms my heart! Yessss, I love this prompt so much! :O I think after all the drama recently, these poor kids deserve a break! Hope you enjoy 💛

Shoto looked around him, taking in his surroundings. He was in class. Present Mic Sensei had his back to him, writing the lyrics to some corny English song on the blackboard, while Kaminari sung them out loud with surprising accuracy.

'We're no strangers to love~'

Shoto turned to look at Momo, ready to ask her just what the hell was happening, but instead of his friend, he found a giant teddy bear with long black hair in her place. Shoto’s eyes widened with shock when the bear turned to meet his gaze, nodding to him before focusing back on the lesson.

Okay then… He thought to himself and tried another tactic.

He suddenly stood up from his seat and wandered over to Izuku’s desk, because apparently that was allowed. Even if it did matter though, their teacher didn’t seem to notice, too busy engaging in a dance competition with Ashido, while Kaminari continued to sing. Somehow, Jirou had managed to procure a keyboard and was playing a familiar tune that Shoto couldn’t quite recognise.

Ignoring the odd display, he approached his boyfriend’s desk to find him muttering to himself. Shoto welcomed the small semblance of normalcy.

‘Izuku.’ He began. ‘What’s going on-?’

He stopped abruptly when Izuku turned to face him. Instead of rosy cheeks adorned in freckles and wide emerald eyes, Shoto came face-to-face with a full head of broccoli. He took a moment to fully comprehend what was going on.

Breathe, Shoto. It’s okay. Your boyfriend is a broccoli. It’s fine. It’s going to be alright.

Shoto bent down to inspect the vegetable love of his life. ‘Izuku! Izuku, are you okay? What happened? Was it a quirk? Can you breathe?’

A large hole suddenly opened from where Shoto assumed Izuku’s mouth was. He held his breath with anticipation.

‘According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way that a bee should be able to fly.’

Shoto blinked dumbly.

‘What the fuck-’

‘Wake uuuuuuup!’

Shoto shot up out of bed, breathing heavily as he adjusted to the light of his room. The curtains had been opened, allowing the morning sun to flood in. He winced at the brightness before he noticed Natsuo, stood next to the window with a knowing smirk plastered to his face. Shoto grumbled something unintelligible and collapsed back onto his futon, pulling at the covers to hide his face.

He heard an amused snort. ‘Wakey wakey, Shotouto!’

‘Fuck off.’ Shoto retorted, face buried in his pillow. ‘It’s Sunday.’

‘Now now, that’s no way to talk to your oniisan.’ Natsuo tutted playfully as footsteps approached. Shoto remained silent, hoping his brother would take the hint and piss off, but no such luck. ‘Neechan told me to wake you up nicely, but I see now that you have forced my hand.’

Before Shoto could ask what he even meant by that, suddenly a huge weight collapsed on top of him and Shoto let out a noise he didn’t know he was capable of making. He flailed around under the covers, trying and failing to kick his brother off of him but to no avail.

‘Natsuo, get the fuck off me!’ He got up on all fours, carrying Natsuo on his back, before he rolled onto his side and the two of them went flying.

‘Yaaaaaghhhhh!’

Shoto landed on the tatami floors, his bed sheets wrapped around him and Natsuo’s leg draped over his head. Scrunching up his face in distaste, he shoved the prickly leg away with his right hand and smirked sadistically when his brother yelped in response. If Natsuo’s leg now had a patch of frost coating it, then that was his secret.

‘Neechan!’ Shoto yelled out, voice feigning innocence. ‘Natsuo-nii is being mean to me!’

‘He’s lying!’ Natsuo quickly shot back, picking Shoto up and lifting him above his head before he could even react. Shoto blamed his slow reflexes on his tiredness.

‘Put me down, dickhead!’ He tried to punch at his brother’s arms but the angle made it extremely difficult. Cackling maniacally, Natsuo spun them around in circles. ‘Stoooop!!!’

‘Who’s this Izuku you were talking about in your sleep, Shotouto?’ He asked instead, causing Shoto to still; he stared up at the ceiling with wide eyes and felt his cheeks burn.

‘None of your business.’ He bit back, but that just proved to further fuel his brother’s curiosity.

‘I dunno, seemed pretty serious to me.’ Shoto could practically hear the grin in Natsuo’s voice, before he abruptly stopped spinning them around. His brother let out a delighted gasp that Shoto did not like in the slightest. ‘Wait a minute, Izuku… You were dreaming about that Midoriya-kun you brought around a few weeks ago?!’

Shoto said nothing, not trusting his voice.

Natsuo chortled. ‘Oh my god, you were! Oh, Neechan is going to love this-’

His brother’s words were cut off the moment Shoto grabbed onto his forearm, sending a wave of ice down Natsuo’s body until he was fully encased, with only his eyes and nose exposed. Shoto turned his head and looked down at his brother, fully enjoying the irritated noises he was making.

‘Oh, I’m sorry, Natsuo-nii. Did you say something? I can’t quite hear you.’

His brother let out a muffled yell, scowling at him. However, it didn’t last long. Before the situation could escalate further, the door to Shoto’s room suddenly slid open and Fuyumi entered, hands on her hips and a look of resignation on her face.

‘Oh, Natsuo’s being mean to you, eh?’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘Really seems like it.’

‘Neechan-’

‘Don’t want to hear it. De-ice your Niichan or no soba for you.’

‘Soba?’

One word, one simple word and Shoto leaped off of his brother and pressed his left hand to his icy chest, promptly melting him. When he was liberated, Natsuo shivered violently and shoved him back.

‘Someone’s sensitive this morning.’ He grumbled, shaking his damp hair in Shoto’s general direction. However, before he could get drenched, Shoto quickly jumped out of its trajectory and bolted for the kitchen, leaving Natsuo and Fuyumi to stare at each other, bewildered.

He ran down the hallway when he suddenly heard Fuyumi speak. He stopped in his tracks and turned his head.

‘Come on Natsuo, pay up.’

‘Fuyumiiiii!’

‘Come on, you sabotaged yourself there.’ His sister retorted. ‘Of course, he likes Midoriya-kun. I called it. Now give me my 4000 Yen!’

Heat pooled to Shoto’s face, turning him bright red. Unable to control it, his left side suddenly burst into flames, destroying his pajamas and singing the walls.

‘I am a poor university student, Neechan! This is robbery- Wait...’ Natsuo suddenly sniffed the air. ‘Do I smell smoke?’

Fuck.

❄🔥❄

Shoto sat on the sofa, scrolling through his phone. He was curious about his dream from before. However, after initially searching “What happens if your boyfriend turns into a vegetable” and finding several dark humour posts that he didn’t quite understand, he quickly decided to stick to the simple questions.

He was just familiarising himself with the song Present Mic Sensei had been teaching them in his dream, while simultaneously learning an entire branch of internet culture in the process, when Natsuo bounced into the room and draped himself over Shoto on the sofa. His brother rested his chin on his shoulder and squished his cheek against Shoto’s own scarred one.

‘Watcha googling?’ He mumbled, trying to look at his phone screen.

In that moment, Shoto stilled. He allowed a small grin to grace his face as he turned to look at his brother knowingly. Natsuo stepped back hesitantly, removing himself from Shoto and off of the sofa, worried. Maintaining eye contact with his brother, Shoto turned his screen to reveal his search results.

The lyrics to Never Gonna Give You Up shone across Natsuo’s face and his grey eyes widened with shock. Shoto’s grin broadened when his brother gasped dramatically and clutched at his chest before promptly falling to the ground.

‘Noooooooo!’ He sobbed, curling in on himself. ‘How could you, Sho?!’

Shoto rose from where he was seated and stood over his brother, victorious.

‘That’s for placing a bet on my love life.’

‘What is going on here?!’ Fuyumi ran into the room, out of breath. ‘I leave you two for five minutes and- Wait, Natsuo, why are you on the floor?’

In that moment, both Shoto and Natsuo looked up at their sister with uncanny synchrony. However, while Shoto flashed Fuyumi a cool smile, his brother looked significantly more distressed.

‘I can no longer go on, Neechan!’ He sobbed. ‘I have been rickrolled by my baby brother! I have brought dishonour to my family!’ He raised a fist and shook it at the ceiling. ‘Damn you, old man! You were right all along!’

‘Shoto, what did you do to him?!’ Fuyumi exclaimed, rounding on Shoto. ‘He just called father right. What happened?’

‘He literally said it.’ Shoto shrugged, weaving around his sister to exit the room so he could brag about his recent accomplishments to Izuku over the phone. After a moment of consideration though, he peeked his head back into the room. ‘Also, Natsuo-nii, remember to pay up. Izuku is a really good kisser, after all.’

The cry of anguish his brother emitted, along with Fuyumi’s joyful cackling echoed down the hallway.

Shoto allowed himself a small smile.

#todoroki shoto #todoroki family #todoroki natsuo #todoroki fuyumi #tododeku #sibling chaos #i just need them to be happy #hopefully this makes up for the angst of the previous prompt mwhaha #AgarJelly writes #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #memes #sorry not sorry ;)

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seasonsofeverlark · 4 years

Text

Pumpkin Duck

Author: @mega-aulover

Prompt: How about Katniss taking Peeta to the forest during the fall for the first time to see all of the fall colors. [submitted by anonymous]

Rating: K

Author’s note: Special thanks to @jroseley for beta-ing. :)

____________

“You smell like a snickerdoodle Sweetheart?”

Katniss slammed the door of Haymitch’s man cave and sat down. She narrowed her eyes at her mentor. She was beginning to hate anything fall flavored related, including cinnamon. Most of all she grew a distinct dislike of pumpkin.

“Peeta’s still baking up a storm.”

“He claims he’s experimenting with recipes for the bakery,” she huffed. “But the thing is he’s making stuff that isn’t sold at the bakery.”

Haymitch handed her a beer. “So what has the boy done that has you spittin nails?”

She twisted the bottle cap angrily. “This morning he said he was going to create a pumpkin flavored macaroni and cheese. Macaroni and cheese shouldn’t be pumpkin flavored. For that matter pumpkins don’t have a flavor like tomatoes, apples, or broccoli.”

Haymitch lifted an eyebrow. “Broccoli?”

“Yes broccoli,” Katniss said, putting the bottle down.

“Sweetheart, have you seen my house, I have orange coming out of my ears. I found Effie changing out my tidy-whities for oranges ones with squirrels sitting on piles of leaves. It’s not even fall yet.”

Katniss hung her head. “Why don’t we make a run for it?”

Haymitch chuckled, “Effie’s got a tracker in me she’ll find me.”

Katniss laughed. Effie always seemed to show up wherever Haymitch hid.

“Fall’s like a week away Haymitch but he’s been driving me bananas.” Peeta yesterday dragged out his wok to make fried rice with pumpkins. She shuttered. “How do you do it?”

“We find them appealing, they put up with our crap.”

Katniss grimaced.

“No you don’t have the right to make that face. You and I both know Effie puts up with my geese and the boy puts up with muddy footprints all over the floor. Besides we are nuts about them.”

Her shoulders drooped, she did love Peeta. “He is cute when he wakes up in the morning with his wavy hair all askew.”

Haymitch grinned, he handed her half of his ham and cheese sandwich.

Having the normal food calmed her down. “He says he wants to be ready for fall.”

“Why don’t you do something for him?”

“Like what?”

“You like the woods right?”

Katniss frowned she wasn’t following. “Yeah.”

“His favorite time of year is the fall, and next week the fall starts.”

“Oh take him to the woods so he can see the real deal.” She had taken Peeta to the lake during the summer but never when the leaves were changing. Finishing up the sandwich she bounded out of the door. “Thanks Haymitch.”

“Don’t mention it,” Haymitch muttered.

Katniss walked by Effie who today was dressed in a bright orange jumpsuit with a hat that looked like a pile of leaves. She shook her head but managed a smile at her former escort. “Hi Effie.”

“Oh, hello Katniss, is Haymitch still cooped up in there?”

“Sure is, the game’s nearly finished,” Katniss paused and then turned to her former Escort. Haymitch needed a break and she needed help. “Effie how quickly do you think I can get camping equipment?”

“Why?” Effie turned around. “What do you have in mind?”

“Well Haymitch gave me a great idea. I know how much Peeta loves the fall, so I thought I would take him camping up in the mountains. The leaves change colors in the mountains quicker because it’s cooler.”

“OH,” Effie gasped. Her lashes with miniature fall leaves batted quickly as her eyes became brighter. “What a darling idea? What exactly do you need?”

“Well,” Katniss said, linking her arm with Effie. “First off I need camping clothing, and I need a large enough tent.”

“Ooohhh, I know some people who can help.”

Katniss grinned. “I also need this to be a surprise. You know I cannot lie to Peeta.” Now if she could only survive the couple of days of pumpkin wreaking havoc in her life.

“That is the utter truth.” Effie said.

The next day when Peeta returned to the bakery Katniss and Effie got to work. Katniss had to make sure the path was still there. Around here the leaves were still green, but high up in the mountains the air was colder and the leaves changed color quicker.

Her father had taken her there once. She was a small child but she’d been past the trail a dozen times when she hunted in the woods with Gale but she’d never explored. After the war when Peeta came back she took a walk. She discovered the trail and everyday she cleared it little by little until she made it to the peak of the mountain. It took three days and Peeta was scared out of his mind when she came back. He kissed her hard, yelled at her, and kissed her again. Her toes curled in her old boots at the memory of that passionate kiss.

“Look Effie,” Katniss shouted excited to find the trail. When she found the trail she was overjoyed.

“Oh dear this will not do,” Effie tsked. “We need someone to make a clear path, Peeta will not be able to get through there easily. I know who to call.”

Katniss wasn’t sure about the gleam in Effie’s eyes. But true enough within a day Effie had Thom and a crew working around the clock to clear a path up to the mountain that would be even enough for Peeta to make his way up the mountain.

A few days later she was in the mudroom looking bewildered at all of the packages Effe had brought over. There were boxes dozens of them of every size and shape. Katniss wasn’t sure how she was going to keep this from Peeta. He knew she was frugal and she just didn’t buy anything.

“Katniss,” Peeta said, popping his head in her mudroom.

Katniss looked up, surprised that Peeta had come home early.

“What is all of this?”

“Nothing,” Katniss said, hiding the orange plaid shirt behind her back. Horrified she watched Peeta pick up a box.

“Looks like Effie is trying to hide purchases from Haymitch.”

Katniss glanced down at the nearest box and indeed Effie’s name was on the shipping label of the boxes. “Erm…yeah,” Katniss nodded, she fought to keep her embarrassment from showing up on her face. “What are you doing home so early?”

“Well I wanted to make some ravioli, for dinner.”

Katniss eyes lit up at the thought of the fluffy pasta filled with oozing cheese or ground meat.”

“Yeah I got an idea for pumpkin flavored raviolis. I got the ingredients at the grocers,” he began walking away. “..they had these beautiful pumpkins.”

Her smile turned into a frown. “Great more freaking pumpkins,” she muttered under her breath.

The day before the great adventure Katniss sat outside with Haymitch.

“Effie is…” Katniss said to Haymitch a few days before.

“Determined?”

“Like a general in the rebellion,” Katniss said leaning up against the porch watching Peeta and Effie talk about the upcoming fall festival.

“You all set for tomorrow?”

“Didn’t you hear what I said about Effie?”

“I’m not talking about the trek, I’m talking about the…”

Katniss looked away…she looked at her beer. She drank it savoring the brew. “Yeah.”

“You, ready for this?” Haymitch leveled a look at her.

Katniss glanced toward Peeta, “I love him, even with his pumpkin obsession.”

“Good, that’s all that matters.”

The next morning all went awry. A huge storm pulled into the mountains and a deluge flooded the roads. They were stuck inside. Katniss sat by the window looking at the rain fall.

“Katniss what's wrong?”

Katniss turned around biting her bottom lip. She wanted to cry but instead she squared her shoulders. “Today is the first day of fall but.”

“Yeah I know it’s the autumnal equinox.”

Jutting her chin out with determination she said, “We’re making fall.”

“What?”

Determined, she went to his art supplies and said, “We’re making the fall indoors.”

“Kat?”

“Get your paint box Peeta,” Katniss said, marching upstairs to an empty room. They were going to have to do this backwards.

Peeta had his paints. “Okay are you going to tell me what this is about?”

“We’re going to make a mural Peeta. Big beautiful trees, one for each season.”

“Okay,” he looked around.

The words tumbled out of her lips, “I had this entire weekend planned we were going to go up into the mountains. We were going to eat fresh game and wonder at the colors of the fall. Then I was going to give you this.” Katniss took a small envelope and pressed it into his hands.

Peeta frowned. He opened the envelope and took out the card. She watched his lips move as he read what she’d written. Katniss delighted in watching the way Peeta’s eyes lit up bigger than the bonfire she planned cooking their meals on. “You wanna try?”

Katniss nodded.

“Real or not real, you wanna try to have a baby with me?”

“Real,” she whispered.

“Real,” Peeta uttered. Tears fell down his face.

“Yes,” Katniss pointed toward the room. “Wouldn’t this room make an amazing nursery?”

Peeta grasped her by the middle and swung her around. Katniss laughed. He put her down and then said, as he gathered his painting gear. “I’m going to make us something special, butternut squash soup, oh and some pumpkin bread…to go with pumpkin spiced duck.”

Katniss scowled; she loved Peeta but she still hated the pumpkin.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #autumn #autumn 2020 #by mega-aulover #submission

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stripper-patrick · 4 years

Text

If only they knew🤡 Henry Cavill

Warnings: smut, language, unprotected, rough, cheating, oral (m), fat shaming, fingering

Relationship: Henry Cavill x black plus sized reader

“Hey are you busy” I look at my newly done nails

“No I had just went for a run then I was about to get in the shower. Why?” Henry asks. I frown my face up

“Because I wanted to come see you”

“That’s fine. She’s not here”

“Ok I’ll be on my way”

...

I knock at the door waiting for Henry to open it. I stare down at my feet painted a pretty opal color dressed in Steve Madden sandals Henry got me. Oh yea me and him are having an affair basically. He’s married to some model but he already knows she’s cheating so I guess this is payback. Me and him have been friends since before he even met this girl. We’ve been this whole friends with benefits thing for a long time. Before I got pregnant. You can guess where this story leads to now. I had my affairs child and never told my own husband. Because Zara, the baby looks so much like me just with lighter skin. Scott, my husband, doesn’t realize.

He opens the door pulling me from my thoughts and I see his dripping wet body clad in a towel hung low on his waist.

“Hey how are you” he smiles with his phone in hand.

“Hi I’m good” he lets me in pulling me in for a hug getting me all wet

“Ugh Henry now I’m wet”

“Wouldn’t be the first time” he smiles kissing my head “how’s my baby girl” he refers to his daughter Zara

“Good teething so she’s kept me up for a minute. Scott took her with him to give me a break”

“Mmm” he mumbles

“My clothes”

“Let me help you” he pulls my shirt off and I push him to the recliner in the corner of the living room. I unravel Henry’s towel dropping to my knees as he sits in the recliner. I think my head on the tip watching his eyes shut completely trapped in what I’m doing.

I jerk him from the base sucking on the tip collecting all of his precum on the tip of my tongue. As his eyes are closed and I’m still sucking I grab it unlocking it with the password. I click on ‘Contacts’ and select the name ‘Christina’. I let it ring and when she picks it up I set it on speaker on his chest “hey babe”

His head shoots up and I smile “h-hey honey”

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing” I sink my head further. Luckily I don’t have a gag reflex. Henry tries to push me off but I swat his hand away. “I was just calling because I think we should have Y/N and Scott over tonight for dinner” my head shoots up. I smirk tightening my grip around him making a low moan escape.

“That’s a great idea. What should we have for dinner” before he responds I massage his balls and suck his tip hearing him moan again

“Oh? What are you doing babe” I hear her getting flirty but Henry pushes it off

“I stubbed my damn toe. Uh steak is fine”

“Oh ok cool. With mashed potatoes”

“Yup perfect” he looks at me grabbing a fistful of my head guiding him further. Henry pushes his hips upward and I smile letting him fuck my face. “Honey i gotta go I’ll see you later”

“Ok love you”

“Love ya too” he hangs up throwing his phone and pulling me up. Henry pulls my leg on his and I sit on his dick feeling him stretch me out. He puts my legs on his shoulders and holds my arms out bouncing upward to penetrate me. I moan smiling and then my phone rings. I look at Henry and he smiles “answer it or you won’t cum”

I whine and grab it putting it to my ear “h-hello”

“Hey babe” it’s Scott “hows the nail salon”

“It’s good I’m at the gym now. What’s up” I say rushed

“I just got a call from Christina inviting us over for dinner tonight. Did you wanna go”

“Yes” I moan. I snap out of it when Henry fucks me harder “Yea sorry these leg days kill”

“Trust me I get it. I’m going to the liquor store did you want anything”

“Uhhh” it’s harder to think when I have a huge cock plunging into me. He lets go of my arms and I straddle his waist. He’s still bouncing into me. Henry’s face dives into my bouncing breasts. “Uh cupcake champagne” my body starts shaking

“Ok wh-”

“I gotta go bye” I hang up dropping my phone and my body caves forward. Henry groans squeezing my hips as we both leak on each other.

“Look at you. You filthy bitch” my body shakes more at his degradation and I smile.

“You feel so damn good” I moan

He pumps us out the rest of the way and stops. I feel his dick throbbing inside of me.

“I gotta go home and go shower to get ready for our dinner tonight” I smile. I pull myself off of him and get dressed “your wife will be home any minute”

“That she will” he stands up walking me to the door not even before clinging his towel to his waist again.

“I’ll see you at dinner?”

“I’ll see you at dinner” he smiles winking

....

I’m at home fresh out the shower when I hear Scott get home “babe”

“I’m upstairs” I yell back. I oil my body down and he walks in holding Zara. I smile as he puts her down and she walks towards me. I pick her up kissing her cheek.

“I got the drinks” I nod “damn where’d all this weight come from I thought you went to the gym” I put down the baby and finish getting ready giving her a toy to settle her.

“The shit doesn’t just fall off overnight asshat”

“You need to lay off everything you eat” he chuckles

“Get ready so we can go” I slip into a short dress and grab my sandals. I grab the baby taking her downstairs and shake my head. His comments are really sticking to me today. I grab my phone texting Henry titles under ‘Dominoes’.

“Do you think I’m beautiful?” I text

“Of course why?” He responds

“You ready?” Scott asks. I yell back a yes and reply to Henry

“Did he say something to you again?”

“Yea. We’re on the way”

“Ok darling. Don’t worry I have something special for you tonight”

...

I knock on Henry’s door and Christina greets us at the door. She hugs both of us and I smile “thanks for having us” Zara smiles at her.

“Of course no problem. Come in” I walk through smelling the delicious food. If she couldn’t do anything else, Christina could cook. I think that’s why Henry is still around. He likes to eat. Trust me I’d know.

We migrate to the dining room where the food is neatly placed on the decorative place mats and Henry smiles standing up. He wraps me in his embrace. Henry lets go and a part of me wishes he didn’t. He tickles Zara’s feet and she instantly clings to his large arm. He hugs Scott and we all sit. Me with Henry and Christina with Scott. Zara on his lap.

“So how’ve you been” Henry asks Scott as he starts feeding her.

“I’m good. Works kicking my ass” he smiles

“I understand” I take the fork starting to eat while Christina smiles at me

“So when do you plan to get pregnant again Y/N?” I nearly choke

“Uh not for a long time I’m perfectly fine with Zara” I smile “I’m too busy with work. What about you?”

“We’re trying but nothing yet” she says sadly

“Aww you’ll get there” I feel Henry’s hand slide up my thigh all the while he’s still holding a conversation with Scott. Now they’re on the topic of business and how Henry owns multiple.

His hand moves further up parting my legs. I rest one on top of his to give him easier access. Henry rubs my clothed clit and I trip up on my words.

“How’s w-work coming along?” I ask her

“Great. Me and Henry have a banquet to go to next weekend which should be fun. I bought this beautiful gold dress” She grabs her phone and Henry inserts his fingers inside of me. I hold his large hand grinding myself against his hand. I smile as I see the dress and control my fast breathing. He uses his thumb to run my clit while stimulating my g-spot.

“That is...” I take a minute to collect myself “stunning”

“I’m so excited” she smiles “we’ve been thinking about getting another dog”

“Uh you’ve been thinking about it. I’m perfectly fine with Kal” the British hunk chimes in curling his fingers. I stab my fork into some broccoli trying to shove as much of it in my mouth as possible masking a moan.

“Damn babe can you chill with eating so much. I told you about that”

“I just got the perfect idea” Christina says “we should go to the gym together. It would be so much fun”

I can see Christina means no harm in her words but Scott’s words were dripping with humiliation. I grip the sides of the chair and I see Henry’s chest rise and fall faster. His nose flares in anger as he presses my spot harder.

“Scott that was a little mean don’t you think?”

“Come on Henry look at her. She looks like a whale”

My legs tense and start shaking while he keeps a straight face destroying my insides with just two fingers “I think she looks great especially for someone who just had a baby” he emphasizes. I can see he’s pissed. Scott did this a lot when I was pregnant as well which would make Henry go off sometimes.

I tap his thigh lightly succumbing to my demise. I let out a shaky breath and squeeze my eyes shut leaking all over his hand.

“Y/n are you ok?” Christina asks. I nod

“Headache” My nails dig into his thighs and I hear a low growl come from him feeling him hash out the rest of my juices.

I take another bite and Zara smiles. Scott feeds her another small bite of mashed potato.

“Yea but damn it’s been a like 11 months. She should look like Christina by now”

“Clearly they’re two different women” he says getting angrier. Zara pulls off of Scott’s lap walking over to Henry with her arms up. He grabs a napkin wiping his hands and picks up Zara with his clean hand. She stands on him playing in his hair ruffing up his curls.

“Hi pretty girl” she smiles giving him her one dimple. Like his.

“Can we all just eat a civilized meal” Christina says adoring Henry and Zara. God. If only they both knew. “You two are so cute together”

Henry smiles as she moves on to his buttons.

“I never realized how much Zara kinda looks like Henry” my breath catches in my throat and I cough.

“You’re right” Christina says. I grab the cup of water taking a sip “ugh Henry give me a baby tonight”

“It’s not that easy” he smiles

“Yes it is” I blurt out “sorry” I laugh glancing at Henry He smiles at me with a small smirk

#smut #fluff #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill smut #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader

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mostly-marvel-musings · 4 years

Text

A Mere Mortal - Chapter Four

A/N: This story is based on the prompt : Vampires cannot enter a house without your permission, but what if your landlord’s a vampire? It’s his house, he’s just letting you live there. Part of the Landlord Vampire Fic Frenzy hosted by the amazing @just-the-hiddles . Feedback’s appreciated as always! :))

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire! Bucky Barnes x Vampire! Loki x Human! Reader

Word count: 2298

Warnings: 18+ stuff. Kissing and make out scenes. Foul language.

Tags: @buckybarnesplumwhore @ladyacrasia @tcc-gizmachine @alexakeyloveloki

Taglists open! Send me an ask if you wish to be tagged in future chapters.

...

It had been a while since you woke up before the alarm went off. Given the fact that you were up late writing and editing some initial drafts, this morning you felt surprisingly fresh.

Might as well go for a run.

Pulling out your trainers, a blue fleece jacket and a beanie that you found in your luggage you stepped out.

The weather was nippy, perfect for a jog through the little forest trail. Plugging your headphones you put on a ‘workout mix’ and started a slow jog following a narrow path that winded through the woods.

When the cabin came into view you leaned against a tree to catch your breath. Huffing, you pulled the earplugs out and looked around.

Faint whimpering sounds reached your ears from behind another tree to your right. You stepped around and a scared looking pup, not older than three weeks came into view. He was visibly shivering in the cold and you couldn’t help but pick him up.

“Where’s your mama little one?” you murmured looking around for any signs of an adult dog, but found none. “You hungry?” already walking inside with him tucked in your arms.

Thankfully you had leftover steamed veggies in your fridge from last night which would have to suffice for now.

You mashed the carrots and broccoli and offered it to the puppy along with some water which he accepted with grateful wags of his tiny tail.

Letting him out in the harsh weather would be cruel, might as well find a box and some sheets to keep him warm.

The aroma of freshly made coffee still lingered in the air, after you took a quick shower and breakfast when your phone rang. It was a Face Time video from Sam.

“Sammie! How are you?”

“You seem awfully chipper (Y/N). I’m good. How’re things in creepy town?”

You rolled your eyes but laughed, you had missed him.

“For one stop calling it creepy town. Second, things couldn’t be better. I went for a run in the woods earlier today and came home with a puppy!”

“You did what?”

“Yeah well he looked so fragile and cold, I couldn’t leave him out there. Plus look how cute he is!” You said flipping the camera around so that Sam could see the pup who was now curled up into a ball on the rug, sleeping peacefully.

“Cute. Hey did you meet your landlord Mr. Bones was it?”

“It’s Barnes Sam, yes we met. Bucky is such a nice guy. Ah. A perfect gentleman. Like you wouldn’t believe.” you gushed excitedly. You recalled the meeting and he listened patiently, sneaking in a few teasing remarks in between.

“I smell a crush (Y/N/N)”

“Oh stop, I’ve only met him twice, we had drinks the other day. Nothing happened” you spoke with a tad bit of disappointment. Something almost happened.

“So what? You can make a move. Guys dig that.” Sam insisted.

“I moved here to write my novel Sam. I can’t just randomly hook up with my landlord.”

You can do both, pun intended. Your horny alter ego spoke up.

You cut the call after filling him in on most of the details. You didn’t mention that weird sex dream with Loki, in fact didn’t mention the man at all. You hadn’t figured what to make of it, it was completely out of the blue.

Something you didn’t want to dwell on too much.

...

Mid-morning was spent trying get the pup to not pee next to the kitchen cabinet and to find a name for the little guy.

After a few tries he wagged his tiny tail when you said Bear, quite fitting, he was brown and shaggy.

You had lunch at the grill, when Bear had finally slept in his box and you were sure he wouldn’t get too lonely in your absence. You purchased kibbles, a leash and a few other things from Fred’s on your way home.

…

Bucky’s POV

I’ve been staring at this page for the longest time, reading the same sentence over and over again.

I managed to get my hands on (Y/N)’s latest book online and got it shipped here. An anthology of short stories, the title was enough to intrigue me, Mere Mortals.

She had a flair for writing thrillers, no wonder this was a best-seller.

This particular story caught my attention about a vampire falling madly in love with a human. A beautifully written tragedy with a line that struck me the most,

“Loving the monsters never ends well for the human.”

The book made me wonder how she might react if she finds out who I really am. Would she run away or be brave enough like one of her characters and stick around. Probably best to leave that topic for later.

Your book is fantastic (Y/N). You weren’t kidding when you said you love the supernatural. :P

How’s the new one coming along?

I didn’t want to seem too pushy but I couldn’t help myself. Something about her made it hard for me to stay away.

You read my book! I’m glad you found my obsession amusing. As far as the new one goes, I’ve been at it for days with very little progress. Starting to freak out. :(

The promptness of her reply made me smile. I quickly texted back and invited her over for dinner later today.

With that I walked inside to get a refill of my dinner for the night from the fridge.

…

Bear sat looking up at you with his head tilted to one side, as you explained you’d be leaving him alone for a few hours to go meet Bucky.

“And please don’t destroy the house, we’re here on lease. I’ll be back soon.” You placed a kiss on his nose and stood up to leave.

The walk to Bucky’s house was spent adjusting your hair every few minutes and making sure your breath was minty fresh. As trees cleared a huge cottage came into view which you could only guess was his ancestral home.

It looked surprisingly modern though with a few overgrown weeds around and English ivy covering most of the exterior walls. Stopping outside the front door, you checked your appearance one last time on your phone camera and knocked.

“Come on in, it’s open.” Bucky’s voice came through from a distance. You pushed the door open and stepped in the dimly lit house.

The wallpaper covered foyer reminded you of an old museum. Reaching the living room, you looked around to find most of the tables topped with antiques and artifacts. Old paintings that definitely belonged to the 18th century decorated the walls. All in all, the house looked like it belonged to someone who was stinking rich.

“Sorry for not opening the door, I almost lit my kitchen on fire.”

You turned around to see Bucky dressed in a button down tucked neatly in dark denims and the sleeves folded up to the elbow, hair in disarray but still freaking gorgeous walk in the living room. You looked around the room and said, “I didn’t know you lived in a museum.”

“Oh it’s our family home, almost been the same since my great grandfather built it. I’ll give you a tour later.”

“You’re rich.”

“No my parents were rich.” He chuckled.

“That is a typical rich person reply right there.” You shot back as you followed him into the kitchen.

The kitchen was bigger than your first apartment, very rustic looking with modern appliances to add contrast. The smell of Bolognese wafting through the closed pot on the stove made your stomach grumble.

“Hope you like Italian.” He gave you a smile and opened the lid to show off his work proudly.

“Is there anyone who doesn’t? It’s my favorite.” You walked closer and inhaled deeply before sighing rather dramatically.

“Come on. Let’s eat.”

You ate at the breakfast bar, though there was a dining room. Of course it was a twelve seat formal one complete with a fancy chandelier and everything.

“Are you like a prince or something hiding your true identity from me?” you asked eyeing him with mock suspicion.

He laughed, “I could be a mafia for all you know.” You got the latter part right, (Y/N)

“Nah don’t get that vibe from you.”

“Well my family owned a few properties around here including the cabin you’re living in, and the library, and now I look after it. My great grandfather was a part of the town council and everything, it’s boring.”

“Interesting would be the word I would use. Though a tiny part of me was hoping you’d say mafia and prove me wrong.”

You kept the conversation going through rest of the dinner and he seemed eager to know about your past as well. After a tour of the house, he offered you a nightcap as you settled on a plush couch in the living area. Comfortable silence that fell between you was broken as you heard soft music coming from an antique looking vinyl player.

“Care to dance?”

You couldn’t help but giggle as you took his outstretched hand and stood from your spot.

“See this is the kinda stuff that happens either in romantic movies or the beginnings of a serial killer movie.” You slid your arms around his neck as both of you gently swayed to the music.

The things you were feeling at that moment definitely were something you had only read about in those classic romantic novels you used to love so much in your growing years.

“Let’s just say it’s the former for now okay?” Bucky kept his arms around your waist and looked at your lips. You wasted no time in replying as you pulled him in for a kiss.

Lips brushed against each other softly at first, delicate like butterfly wings, he could feel the warmth of your skin and taste the wine you’d had earlier.

Soon you lost yourself in the moment as instincts took over and your fingers weaved through his hair. One hand moved to the back of your head and the other stayed on your back as he pulled you even closer and the innocent kiss turned fervent.

The need to pull away for air became necessary as you broke the kiss and pressed your foreheads together, grinning ear to ear.

“The cooking, the wine and dance. You’re very old school in your ways Mr. Barnes.”

“I sure love it when you call me that doll.”

With that he pressed his lips to yours once more and ravaged your mouth. Backing you up against a wall, his hands dropped down to your hips and he pressed himself closer to you, making his hard-on evident. A moan escaped you as he moved his mouth from your lips down to your neck where he found your sweet spot with ease.

All he could think about was the feel of your flushed skin, your heady scent and the smell of blood flowing through your carotid. He pressed his nose at the spot where your shoulder and neck met and inhaled deeply. This made your eyes flutter open.

“What’re you doing?” your voice came out weak as you tugged on his hair lightly, not understanding his actions but not really wanting him to move away.

“Stopping myself from going too far. I find you irresistible (Y/N).” he said slowly kissing his way back to your lips, eyes still closed.

“And you intrigue me. You’ll definitely end up as my protagonist if I ever write a romance novel.” you decided to lighten the sexually charged atmosphere with your dull sense of humor. You weren’t one of those who’d sleep with someone on their first date. Deciding it was time to leave you gently nudged him and he stepped away to give you space.

He walked you back to your home as always and stopped at the porch steps.

“Probably wise to not invite you in just now, Bear must’ve pooped in several places.”

“Bear?”

“Shit! I forgot to ask. I found a puppy this morning and decided to take him in. I hope its okay with you.” You silently prayed he wasn’t one of those ‘no pets allowed’ guy, considering his own house was so prim and proper, there wasn’t a stray fly around.

“Who doesn’t like dogs?”

Vampires. Vampires don’t gel well with dogs.

But he couldn’t say no to you. You were probably safer with one in the house.

You stood on your tippy toes to give him a goodbye kiss which lasted a few seconds that had you reconsider going in alone.

…

Loki peered through from the shadows as you kissed Bucky outside your cabin. Fists clenched, eyes seeing red he stormed away through the woods searching for an outlet, a prey.

Rage turned into blood thirst, he spotted the lady who worked at the grill walking through the empty town square. Perfect.

Her wrist watch read 12:30, as Jenny made her way home after her shift ended at the grill. The area was deserted, illuminated only by the street lamps. She heard twigs snapping behind her and turned to locate the source of the noise.

There was no one.

Slightly alarmed, she turned back to see a tall dark figure standing right in front of her. Her initial shock wore off as she recognized the man. It was Loki.

“Mr. Laufeyson! You scared me.”

Loki stalked closer with eyes dark and an unreadable look on his face.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just out for a bite.”

He grabbed Jenny before she could run and sunk his fangs in her neck.

Her piercing scream echoed into the night, soon coming to a stop like her pulse.

…

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amerrierworld · 4 years

Text

Curtain. (iv)

Carol (2015) fanfiction

Pt: 1 | 2 | 3

Word Count: 1,289

September - just before the first day.

"Yes, yes. I know, Harge. I'm her mother for God's sake, I'm not going to forget anything," Carol grumbled into the phone as she grabbed the last of Rindy's bags from the back of the car.

"Well you better make sure she gets everything she needs, Carol," her ex-husband responded gruffly. "I want her to do well in school."

"Harge, it's first grade. What dire needs would a six-year old have to have? It's not like she's learning calculus."

"Listen, I don't want to have a tantrum-prone child at my house in a month because you decide not to discipline her with the school. They like me over there, you know."

"Yes, you've told me many times, Harge. Just because you have the money to fund that school and make them all lovey-dovey for your spare change does not mean we normal people have money coming out our asses."

"Watch it, Ross. It's still my name in the registration."

Carol pursed her lips, forming a foul expression but deciding not to snap back.

"Anyway, I want her in at least one team. They're very disciplined with their physical education, it'll do Rindy some good."

"What? You can't be serious, Harge. She's too young to be participating with any rigorous sports-"

"And I said she was too young to make her suffer through her parent's divorce, but here we are."

Carol sighed as she closed the car and headed up the steps to the house. "I can't promise anything. When Rindy wants something from that school, she gets it, fine. But if it's not sports, that's just too bad. So don't come blaming me if she wants to play in the band or some crap, okay?"

"Fine."

"I'll bring her over on the last Friday of the month, like we agreed."

"Thank you, Carol." His voice was cold and monotone and Carol summoned all her will power not to throw her phone against the brick wall. She hung up before he could say anything else and pushed through the front door.

"Mommy!" A squeal of delight sounded from the living room as her daughter came bounding towards her. Notorious wine-aunt and babysitter Abigail Gerhard followed closely behind.

"There you are, nitwit. Rindy was beginning to think her mom had been kidnapped."

"Oh nonsense," Carol said, crouching down to pick up her daughter, whose wispy blonde curls were sticking out everywhere. "I've got the last bits of your stuff, sweet pea. Now we can properly arrange your new room."

"Yay!"

"I best get going, Carol. I got you some of those bath salts you really like, I figured you might need some, plus they were on sale, so I had to."

"You're the best, Abby, I can't thank you enough."

Carol gave her best friend a quick peck on the cheek as she passed by her to the front door.

"Good luck with school, kiddo," she ruffled Rindy's hair and gave Carol one last squeeze on her shoulder before exiting the house.

Rindy snuggled in tightly against Carol and her heart felt like it was about to burst. She wrapped her arms tightly around her daughter, kissing the top of her head and letting out a sigh of relief. The bags could wait, she thought.

"It's far too quiet here without Aunt Abby, don't you think? Let's put on some music and I'll make us some dinner."

"Can we listen to Frozen, momma?"

"Of course, sweet pea."

After chicken nuggets and a desperate attempt to make Rindy eat some broccoli, her daughter lay tuckered out on Carol's lap, who was watching the news rather than Coco for the fifteenth time. Her legs were stiff but she dared not move from her spot. Rindy had flailed around and danced to endless Disney songs, forcing her mom to dance with her in the kitchen while making dinner.

Now, it was getting late and the way her eyes were straining against the bright TV made Carol realize it was probably time for her to go to bed as well. Eventually she relented and got up, cradling Rindy carefully as to not wake her up before heading to her new bedroom. The bed had been made and Rindy's fairy lights were strung up, but there were still loads of boxes meant to be gone through. The walls were a soft lavender shade with butterfly decorations everywhere; on the walls, lamps, and closet door.

Carol tucked her daughter into bed and wished her a quiet good night before turning the lights out and leaving. She left the door open a crack like she always did and headed to her own bedroom, which seemed much darker and lonelier compared to the toddler's dreamy childhood bedroom.

Carol debated a hot bath to help her relax but decided against it for the sake of sleep. She threw on an old shirt and a pair of boxer briefs to sleep in and crawled to the middle of the large bed, surrounding herself with the thick duvet and ample pillows. The air conditioning made it extra cold in her room and she felt herself trying to get to sleep, but her brain was too preoccupied to let her body shut down.

Carol grabbed her phone, intending to call Abby but remembered that she had a date that evening, which is why she had left so hurriedly. Abby was most definitely already occupied at this time.

Instead, she went to the school's online directory. The title Frankenberg Elementary came up and Carol scrolled through the names of teachers, wanting to remember as many as possible.

Carol and Harge had been huge influences on the school since Rindy started going there. Harge spared no expense in funding many of the school's programs, and consequently gaining immunity for their daughter through power play. Though the thought of it made Carol squirm with guilt, she knew at least now Rindy wouldn't be treated unfairly by the system. Other kids, not so much.

She went straight to the phys-ed tab and up came T. Tucker. Carol sighed, knowing she'd have to face him for another year. Him and Harge had got on swimmingly from the beginning, but Carol had never really enjoyed his company or comments. His female counter part; Mrs. Morgan who taught phys-ed to younger years found him just as insufferable, as she had noted at several PTA meetings.

She went through the regular listings, noting that Robichek was teaching kindergarten again, and thanking heaven that she didn't have to deal with the elderly woman again now that Rindy was out of kindergarten.

A new subheading under Subjects caught Carol's eye; Art. She didn't remember there being a distinct art teacher before; usually it was just doodle or craft assignments assigned by regular teachers.

She clicked.

One name came up.

T. Belivet

Carol blinked at her screen, her eyelids heavy, and frowned. Surely it wasn't the same girl as the shy, petite brunette who had taken photo after photo of Carol which she had pretended not to see? The name seemed too familiar... but what were the chances the girl would be teaching at Rindy's school? Carol scoffed at her own imagined fantasy. It was ridiculous. Abby was right; she ought to get on the dating scene again instead of these desperate fantasies and daydreams.

There was no picture. For all she knew, it could be a relative. If Abby wanted to hire Therese again for the Christmas show, surely she wouldn't have started teaching at a kids' school?

Carol shut off her phone and groaned a little at the ache behind her eyes. It wasn't worth worrying about things that probably meant nothing. She turned over on her side, and curled into a protective ball, determined to get some sleep and give Rindy the best first day.

A/N: My promised Just Pretend pt 2 is coming up after this folks, and then the rest of my queue. I’ve just been on a roll with Carol and Therese that I gotta get some chapters out of my system :3 love you all

#carol #carol aird #carol fanfiction #carol movie #carol x therese #therese belivet #carolxtherese #The Price of Salt #patricia highsmith #carol 2015 #cate blanchett #rooney mara #sarah paulson #wlw #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtqia #fanfiction #merry writes

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shigarakis-fifth-hand · 4 years

Text

Yandere! Shigaraki x Reader; All An Illusion

tw: kidnapping, messed up relationship, parental abuse, eating disorder, knifes, gayness, depression, stalking

❤️ Enjoy the series! one two

I know heroes are supposed to hate villains with a passion and don't get me wrong, I do. But, my alarm clock comes close in second. I slap that sucker with my fist, sending it to the ground and unplugging it. " I hate Mondays," I tell myself, dragging myself out of bed and putting on my white fuzzy socks. As I walk to the bathroom, I take my icy blue, almost white hair out of the ponytail that is half undone.

Looking into the mirror, I almost am scared of myself. I look like a zombie. I put on some music and wash my face before going to the closet. My dorm room isn't huge, but it's nice. Especially since my roommate is one of the gayest, most fanboyish guy in the world. "Deku! Did you take my concealer again?" I shake the broccoli headed boy, waking him up.

"Wha- oh, ya. Sorry Y/n, it helps cover up all the bruises from training. I don't like anyone worrying about me, and with all the news reporters, I'm scared my mom will see." I think of Deku's mom.

So nice, so sweet, and such a good cook.

"Yea, you're lucky about that one." I sadly smile, taking it from his bedside table. "Just let me buy you your own, or get your boyfriend to buy you one. What if you wake up someday and you're tan?" I tease as he throws a pillow in my direction. "Todoroki isn't just my boyfriend Y/n, he's my soulmate. Don't be jelly." he jokes. "At least my eyes didn't look like Christmas colors until this year." We both giggle hysterically.

In our world, everyone is born with two different colored eyes. Our left color is the one of our soulmate, and the right one is our own color. Once we make eye contact with our soulmates, they return back to their original color. My eyes are red on the left, and then purple.

I go to the opposite wall and open the windows, letting the sunrise fill our view. Even though Deku covers his face with a pillow, I can't help but watch the birds in the distance. They're free to go wherever, be with whoever. They're not stuck in a certain place, they fly everywhere and anywhere they want to.

I do some makeup and curl my hair a little bit before slipping into my uniform. "Y/n, you've been getting skinnier. Are you okay?" Deku asks, waiting for me by the door. He's already in the UA uniform and is currently eating one of the donuts his mom brought for us yesterday. "Oh ya, I've just been training so much it's hard to find time to eat. But I'm fine. See?"

I grab a donut and take a bite, chewing it slowly and giving him a fake smile. He smiles back, relieved as I slip on my shoes and take a final look in the mirror, trying not to throw up. My eyes are purple, but today they're looking extra vibrant. Maybe it's the sunlight filling the room, or the fact that I cried myself to sleep last night. Either way, they look different. Deku and I walk down the hall as I try to find a way to get the bite of donut out of my mouth without him seeing.

I haven't eaten anything for over 48 hours, and I can't have the first thing be full of calories and sugar. Finally, we get to the classroom. When Deku walks in, I immediately spit it out and stuff the donut into the nearby trash can where nobody can see. I feel bad about wasting food, but I would feel worse if anybody knew about me not eating. I sit down in Bakugo's seat so I can talk to Deku, eventually talking to Todoroki and Mina.

Finally, Mr. Aizawa comes into class, followed by someone I don't know, and we all sit down. "Today we are going on a trip to the USJ for some training. Go change, and come straight back." I quickly go up as Mina and Asui join by my side to walk to the girls changing area. I hate this part with a dying passion, letting everyone see my scars, bruises, and ribs. It always starts a conversation that I don't like, making people worry about me.

"So Y/n, I've been thinking. You haven't told me about a single crush that you've had since we got here. What's up with that?" Mina looks at me with curiosity. "I just don't see the point in dating someone who's not your soulmate. It seems like a waste of time." Mina laughs at my response, taking off her uniform and changing.

"I've noticed that too, actually. I-" Uruaka stops talking as I take off my shirt. Everyone's eyes bug out, looking at the colorful display on my body. A large gash is in the middle of my shoulder, and another as my hip. There's a new scar near my collar bone and a large bruise on my upper stomach. " Y/n... What happened?"

Ururaka steps closer to examine me, before reaching out to touch the large scar on my arm. "Uh, Sensei has been training me extra hard lately. It's fine." I quickly put on my uniform outfit and fix my hair as Mina tries to start up the other conversation. "Anyways, do you really not like anyone else? What about Kirishima, or Sero? Personally I thought you'd be cute with Asui, or Momo. But Momo already is soulmates with Jirou, and Ururaka is soulmates with Asui."

I laugh, thinking about how all my friends have been able to find their soulmate in our class, except me. It's kind of sad honestly. Is it impossible for me to develop feelings for people? Am I that hopeless? Maybe my soulmate is gone, or has found someone else. Maybe I’ll never find them.

Ururaka chimes in, but I blank her out mostly. "Maybe Tenya, but he gives me asexual vibes. I think you'd be cute with Shinso but..." I stopped listening as we walked to the courtyard of UA, where everyone else waited. "Fashionably late is not acceptable ladies. I expect you earlier next time." Aizawa told us as they stopped talking. "And ( y/n ), take your contacts off."

I slid the contacts out and into my contact case. We all loaded up on the bus as Lida gave all the boys a hard time about the seating chart. I sat between Mina and Asui near the window, playing footsies with Momo for a little bit before I put my music in. Just loud enough to drown everyone out, I rested my eyes.

I guess it would be good to tell you about myself. Well, you already know I have icy blue hair that turned even lighter since I've been in the sun so much. My skin is darker than my friends, but I wouldn't call myself tan. I'm Y/n Kayama, the daughter of Kora and Magazaki Kayama. Kora Kayama, my mother, is currently in rehab for her addiction to her meds. The nurses at her facility tell me all the time that she says terrible things about me. It's not a surprise to me though, she always hated me. My dad wasn't any better though, as he drunk a lot and hurt me a lot before we got the dorms system.

That's what all the bruises were from, not training, but my dad's fist. He was a gang member, who went to prison for trying to attacking a fellow gang member, and sent my mom to rehab because she was the only one in his way of having complete custody over us. He was obsessed with completely controlling us... well, I say us, but it’s just me now.

My sister killed herself last fall when I got into UA, she knew I'd be able to take care of myself and wouldn't need her to live. She felt her only reason for living was to keep me safe, and when we got dorms, she felt she was finally free. I remember watching her jump off the large red bridge downtown, the smile on her face. She hadn't smiled like that in a while.

When my dad showed up to the school and demanded to see me, his breath smelling like alcohol and his tattoos showing, Aizawa knew something was up. Aizawa and my father had been acquaintances when they were kids, but my dad went down the wrong path. Aizawa knew about the drinking, smoking, gangs, and his violent attitude. Aizawa instantly looked over me and my sister from the moment my mom went to rehab, knowing that my dad wasn't a good parent.

Aizawa and eventually Present Mic gave us rides and cared for us in general. I had only seen Aizawa cry two times, once when Mic almost died in a villain attack, and the day of my sister's funeral.

Oh right, my quirk. Silly me. My quirk is theft, which means that when I look someone in the eye, I inherit their quirk for 24 hours. The best part is that I can use multiple quirks at once. The bad part is that when I accidentally look at someone, I end up using their quirk. I once looked at Ururaka and began floating. I also looked into Mina's eyes and turned pink. We looked like sisters though so it was cool. I do have a bad memory though, so I often forget my contacts. I didn't take the entrance exam since my quirk can't work against robots without me using someone else.

Instead, Aizawa recommended me to take the special exam. Deku idolizes All Might, but I idolize Aizawa. Aizawa has known me since I was born. I think about what Mina said, and I can admit that I've never felt love like that. Maybe it's because I was never loved as a child, or never saw a loving marriage except for Aizawa and Mic, but I've never felt for someone in that way.

Sure, I love my friends to death and would do anything to help them, including risk my own life, but it's different. I've never felt connected with someone, even if they've ask me out or something. Lida asked me out once in middle school, and Denki perused me multiple times before he found Sero, but I never was able to say yes. Mina and I made out at spin the bottle once, but it was more fun than romantic.

" Y/n, we are here. Please wake up." I woke up to Lida playfully poking my face as everyone else giggled. Immediately Lida's quirk registered in my brain. It was okay, I had used Lida's quirk before. "O-oh sorry, I must have fallen asleep." The class laughed as Lida smiled. "I recommend that you get more sleep immediately. Deku has told me about how you lay awake watching makeup tutorials, so maybe you can go to Recovery Girl and-"

I cut him off by pushing my finger to his face. "I'm good, thanks." I walk past him to Mina and the girls who are waiting for me. Immediately I inherited Ururaka's quirk. It was hard to control, but I had an effect on my shoes that kept me stuck to the ground until I used her quirk. As we walk up to the USJ, I see it's a large dome with different areas of natural disasters. I hope I get the building on fire or the ocean. I can run on water with Lida's quirk, and float above the fire with Ururaka's quirk.

"Hello 1-A students, I am Thirteen. I've looked at your files here for recommendations, and right now we will be working on rescuing people from natural disasters." Thirteen sets down files with our profiles. I can’t help but be curious about what’s in mine.

" Now, I want to send you all to the biomes that will challenge you, and challenge the way you go about rescuing others. Now if I can have Shoto Todoroki, Bakugo Katsuki, Izuku Midoriya, ( y/n ) Kayama, and then Denki Kaminari to go to the mountain land. You will be dealing with an avalanche, and then getting people to the bottom safely with no equipment. Go ahead, and wait for the buzzer before you start."

I linked arms with Midoryia, registering his quirk, as we walked towards the mountain, eventually joining up with Todoroki. As I made eye contact with Todoroki, I felt a cooling sensation on my left and a heating sensation on my right. "Nervous?" Todoroki asked, grabbing onto Deku's waist romantically. " A little, but at least broken bones aren't an issue anymore. I am worried about the-", "Ugh, you guys make me sick!" Bakugo yelled out from behind me. I try not to make eye contact with Bakugo. I don't like his quirk. It makes me sweat, and it’s way too sweaty.

"You're just upset that Kiri isn't here," I smirk as his face turns pink all over. "At least I have someone who likes me." he snickers before walking over to Denki. I watch him walk off, and realize he's right. I'm unlovable, or else my parents would have liked me. I might have someone by now if I wasn't so broken. Maybe I'll never find my soulmate, or they won't like me. I finally come to my senses and realize that the buzzer hasn't sounded yet. Is everything working right?

I look around to see that everyone else is confused too. Even the volunteers I can see on top of the mountain are looking around. Suddenly, a large boom comes from the middle of the USJ. I begin to go up the mountain towards the volunteer when I hear screaming. I turn around and see Deku, looking down at the center. I gasp, watching a large purple portal open in the middle and many people walking out.

"Is this part of it?" Denki asks as Deku shakes his head. I register Denki’s quirk. Now is not the time! "No! That's the League of Villains, I've seen them on the News! They're not good news!" Todoroki suddenly grabs me and Deku, building an ice tower high off the ground with us on top. "We need to stay safe up here, who knows what they want."

Before I can even gasp, I look out into the center to see the entire league running towards the mountain area. "Bakubro, what do we do!?" I looked behind myself to see Denki and Bakugo on one of the mountain ledges. "I don't know, but they want something." I can hear my teeth chattering, and I can't help but feel dizzy already. Luckily, Todoroki has me and Deku in his tight, protective grip. I never thought Todoroki liked me, since me and his boyfriend spent so much time together.

The league is now under us though, and I can picture out two familiar faces out of the group. Toga Himiko, a villain with a quirk for blood cloning, and Twice, a guy who can make copies of himself. We can take them and a bunch of villains I've never heard of. We are about to attack when I hear something that makes my legs shake. "Y/n~Senpai! We've come for you!" Toga yells up, making direct eye contact with us.

Todoroki and Deku look at me, as I can feel Bakugo and Denki staring at me from behind. "I don't know what's happening," I whisper to them, and they nod. They trust me, and can probably read the fear in my eyes. "Come up here and fight us for her you reject!" Bakugo yells down as them as Toga giggles.

"Orrrr... you can come down here!" She yells as one of the random villains touches the ice tower. Immediately the tower begins to turn into melting sludge as we begin to fall to them. Todoroki grabs Deku and me, jumping and creating an ice path for them to walk on. The only issue is that Todoroki grabs my hair instead, and I begin to fall towards the villains.

Luckily Denki's hand is there to grab me and pull me up. "Get behind me," Bakugo commands as sparks begin to fly out of his hands. "No, I can fight for myself. I don't need y-" Bakugou and Denki physically push me behind them. "No, they have a portal quirk with someone. They get their hands on you for a split second and you're gone." Denki explains as I sigh. Boys.

"Now stay back," Bakugo growls, scaring me a little bit. I wonder how Kirishima deals with this all the time. Bakugo and Denki step towards the front of the ledge, making me step towards the back. I sigh, still shaking from fear and nervousness. Why are all these people here for me? What do they want? How do they know my name? What did I do to deserve this? Do they want to kill me?

Looking out into the center, I can see all of my classmates are fighting villains while Aizawa and Thirteen are trying to get to us. But they can't, with a weird creature that looks like a bird but has an exposed brain and is purple. It's kicking Aizawa's ass too, which is depressing. I back against the wall and shut my eyes tight, wishing they would let me protect myself. Suddenly I feel a sharp pain in my neck, and look to see Toga, right next to me, holding a knife to my neck. I register Toga's quirk accidentally.

"Oh, boys. Some protectors you are." Bakugo and Denki look behind them to see us, their eyes wide in horror. "Y/n! Let her go Toga!" Deku yells, trying to get to me, but Todoroki holds him back in fear. Everyone looks scared out of their minds, which they probably are. I know I am freaking out, trying to think of some way to get out of here. Some hero I am!

"Toga, don't hurt her," Denki whispers, trying to inch closer. "Not another step lightning-boy!" Toga threatens, pushing me closer to the edge of the mountain. I look way down, seeing how deep the side of the mountain goes. That's surely a deadly drop, and who would save me? Nobody. "You won't push her off, and I know it. Not after you all did all this work, just to kill a random student? Seems pretty useless.", Bakugo begins to take a step.

"Kacchan don't!" Deku yells, right before my life flashes before my eyes. Toga pushes me off the cliff, and I plummet to the ground. I look up to see Aizawa and a few other students watching me, their faces filled with sorrow, regret, and fear. I'm going to die right here. At the hands of an amateur villain attack. How pathetic. They know I'm going to die too.

As I hit the ground, I fall into a purple void that consumes me. I hear yelling, screaming, even blood-curdling screeches as I enter a dark room. Immediately the portal closes behind me, and I'm left inside a dark basement. I try to look around, but the moment I move, a thick cloth covers my eyes, and a towel is stuffed into my mouth.

I can feel picked up, and thrown into a room. I hear a door slam, and then laughing. I smell something weird, and before I realize it, a gas fills the room and puts me to sleep. I've been kidnapped by the League of Villains, and now I have no idea where I am.

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shimmertrapped · 4 years

Text

I’ve Got You - Stiles Stilinski x Reader (6/?)

Summary: After being rescued from an unknown enemy, Y/N and Stiles grow closer whilst dealing with trauma and a lingering threat. (post-high school AU where Scott, Allison, Stiles, and Y/N are roommates)

Characters: Stiles x Argent!Cousin OC (Reader), Scott x Allison

Word Count: 2567

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The kiss was sweet and didn’t last too long, but when they broke apart, they remained close enough that Y/N could see the flecks in Stiles’ golden-brown eyes. He kept his hand on her neck, sending a shiver down her spine as his fingers brushed it.

Y/N bowed her head and let out a shaky, breathless laugh. “Wow.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Y/N shot him a playful glare before breaking out into a smile again. She felt light enough that she could almost forget everything that had happened the last week, and everything that was still going on now. All that mattered was the boy in front of her who was somehow looking at her the way she had always wanted him to.

“So...” Y/N finally forced herself to say. “What now?”

“Good question,” Stiles said, looking up at the ceiling. “Not too sure how to proceed from here.”

“Yeah, we kind of skipped a few steps,” Y/N agreed. “Awkward first date, all that jazz...”

Stiles raised a brow in challenge. “We could still have an awkward first date.”

Y/N glanced away from him then, suddenly jerked back to reality. Because yes, she only almost forgotten what she had gone through this week. The thought of leaving the house, knowing that he was still out there somewhere...

Stiles, seeming to sense exactly what thoughts were running through her head, rushed to say, “But we don’t have to go anywhere.”

Y/N gave him a quizzical look.

Stiles held up a finger, then turned his head and cleared his throat, tugging at his shirt collar. When he looked back, his face bore an exaggeratedly nervous expression. “Y/N, would you, uh, like to order Chinese take-out with me sometime?”

Y/N stared at him for a moment before bursting out laughing. She quickly composed herself to play along. “I would love to, Stiles. How about tonight?”

He pretended to think for a moment before saying, “Tonight’s great.”

“Perfect,” Y/N grinned. “It’s a date.”

“Aaah,” Stiles ran a hand through his hair, dropping the act. “See that’s why I like you. You’re just as much of a weirdo as I am.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Stilinski.”

His eyes seemed to flicker at that.

“But like, we are actually going to order Chinese, right?” Y/N asked.

Stiles straightened, his face utterly serious. “Oh, definitely. What time is it anyway?”

Y/N glanced over at the clock on the oven. “Six thirty.”

“Oof. No wonder I’m so hungry,” Stiles said. “How about you?”

As if on cue, Y/N’s stomach growled.

Stiles laughed, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He quickly got to his feet and extended a veiny hand out to Y/N, which she took and allowed herself to be pulled up as well. Then Stiles turned around and opened up a drawer, rummaging through its contents before whipping out a faded menu that read ‘Willie’s Chinese’. He waggled his eyebrows at her, then laid the menu flat on the counter. Y/N moved to stand next to him, closer than she would have before. She could practically feel the heat coming off his body as she stared down at the menu.

“So... Egg rolls, obviously,” Stiles said, running his finger down the list of menu items. “Fried rice... Chicken balls?”

He looked to Y/N for confirmation. She nodded. “Sure.”

“What else?”

Y/N pursed her lips in thought before saying, “Something vegetable-y.”

“Vegetable-y, vegetable-y,” Stiles murmured, scanning the items on the faded pages. “Stir fried vegetables?”

“Perfect,” Y/N said.

“Okay... And maybe some general tao’s. That should be enough, right?”

“Think so.”

Stiles reached into his back pocket to pull out his phone, his eyes darting back and forth from the menu as he dialled the number for the restaurant.

Y/N realized then that she had never changed out of her clothes from yesterday.

“Mind if I go shower while we wait for the food?” She stage-whispered as Stiles held the phone to his ear.

“No problem,” he mouthed, before saying, “Yeah hi, I’d like to make an order for delivery?”

Y/N retreated from the kitchen and headed upstairs to the girls’ bathroom. As she washed her hands, she lifted her gaze to the mirror hanging above the sink. She had avoided her reflection since returning home yesterday, but finally, she steeled herself to take a look.

Her hair was lacking some of its usual lustre and her skin was sallow, but all in all, it was not as bad as she had braced herself for. And now, after the events of the past fifteen minutes, she looked... rejuvenated. Her face broke out into a huge grin then, and she allowed herself a moment to silently freak out about what had just happened.

After all this time, over half a year of secretly pining after Stiles, she had made a move. It wasn’t at all how she had always imagined doing it, but when she had seen him there on the floor, looking as broken as she felt, she couldn’t help but say the one thing that might be able to explain what she had done, to take away whatever guilt her story had placed upon him.

Getting those words out had been more difficult than recounting the details of her capture to the sheriff, and for those excruciating seconds where Stiles hadn’t said anything, she had regretted ever opening her mouth. But then he had told her how he felt, and... Y/N had never felt such absolute, overwhelming elation. Just reliving it now, she couldn’t wait to go back out and see his face, to simply be in his presence again.

She hastily threw her hair up in a bun, deciding to skip washing it, having just done so yesterday - she’d spray some dry shampoo on it after. Then, she hopped in the shower, going through her usual routine with a little more sense of normalcy than the day before in her zombie-like state.

When she was finished, she padded back into her room through the attaching door and opened her closet. What did one wear for a stay-at-home date?

She decided to opt for comfort, but tried to make it cute, picking out a plain white cami and throwing a nice, drapey cardigan over it. For bottoms, she just pulled on another pair of her favourite black leggings. Moving to her vanity, she saw to her hair, and then headed back downstairs where she found Stiles sitting on the couch with his phone. Evidently he had decided to shower too, his damp hair dripping onto a fresh, green plaid shirt.

He looked up when she entered the room. “Food should be here soon.”

Y/N shot him a thumbs up and went to curl up on the arm chair across from him. Stiles set his phone down and leaned back slightly. Y/N felt her face burn as he simply sat there looking at her.

She buried her head in her shoulder. “Stop staring at me.”

“I always stare at you,” Stiles said, and she could hear him grinning. “It never bothered you before.”

She whipped her head back up to shoot him a look. “How can that be? I thought I was always staring at you.”

Stiles shrugged, then whispered, “Mysteries of the universe...”

Y/N giggled and she thought she saw his eyes light up.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Stiles stood up to answer it and Y/N went to get her purse, attempting to pay for half but Stiles wouldn’t have it. Then together, they carried the food into the kitchen where Stiles had already set the table and poured two glasses of water.

“You had time to shower and set the table before I came back down?” Y/N asked. “Do I take that long?”

“Yes,” Stiles flashed a cheeky smile.

Y/N’s stomach did a flip.

She attempted to compose herself as they unpacked the food and sat down to load up their plates, Stiles heaping a pile of chicken fried rice onto his, Y/N taking mostly stir-fry, feeling the need to get some nutrients back in her body.

Y/N felt self-conscious as she bit into a particularly crunchy piece of broccoli, hoping it hadn’t sounded as loud to him as it did in her own head. They had eaten alone together just this morning but it felt different now, the air more charged. It was too quiet with nothing but the sound of their chewing.

Moving to take a sip of water, Y/N broke the silence. “Would you rather be able to read minds or stop time?”

“Oh, read minds, easy,” Stiles said, gulping down his food. “I could have saved us so much time trying to figure out who the alpha, or the kanima, or whatever other supernatural bullshit going on around here was.”

“Yeah, but wouldn’t it get annoying?” Y/N asked. “Constantly hearing all those thoughts buzzing around you?”

Stiles considered this. “Eh, you’d probably get used to it. How ‘bout you?”

“Stop time,” Y/N said. “But with the huge caveat that I wouldn’t age while time was stopped.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow, chewing as he waited for her to elaborate.

“Well, if I was always stopping time but my body was still aging, I could easily lose like, a year of my life in real time. And then when I started to look older, people would catch on to that and next thing I know, the government would be banging on my door, wanting to do testing on me.”

Stiles choked on a laugh. “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“I take hypotheticals very seriously.”

“Okay,” Stiles said, wiping his hands on a napkin before going to scrape more rice onto his plate. “Would you rather have hands for feet, or feet for hands?

They carried on like that for the duration of their meal. After they had finished and cleaned everything up, Y/N strolled over to the living room. She could hear Stiles following behind as she settled into the corner of the couch. Stiles sat down in the middle, a little closer than he would have before.

They were quiet for a moment, and then Stiles let out a laugh.

“What?” Y/N asked, both amused and intrigued.

“I just still can’t believe this,” he said, shaking his head. “All this time...”

Y/N bowed her head, smiling too. “I know.”

“Scott and Allison are going to freak.”

Oh they most certainly would. Especially Allison. Y/N had never quite divulged her feelings for Stiles to her, but she knew her cousin had been able to tell anyways.

“Allison’s going to want to go on double dates,” Y/N said.

“Yeah, now we won’t be the awkward third and fourth wheel when we all hang out.”

Y/N laughed. She looked over at Stiles then and caught him unsuccessfully trying to stifle a yawn. She frowned. “Tired?”

“Nah, I’m good,” he said, waving a hand. “I’m guessing you aren’t, after your nap earlier?”

“Yeah, not really,” Y/N admitted. “But you don’t have to stay up on my account if you want to go to bed.”

Stiles looked at her, his voice low as he said, “I don’t want to.”

Y/N blinked, her pulse speeding up as his eyes held hers. Her voice came out quiet too as she said, “Then what do you want to do?”

Stiles looked down then, and edged a little closer to her on the couch, their knees touching now. Impulsively, Y/N stretched out her fingertips to graze his knee. She heard Stiles swallow, and when they looked back up at each other, she knew the answer to her question. She removed her hand from his knee and lifted it to rest on his arm. Then, ever so gently, she tugged on his sleeve, pulling him closer to her as she leaned forward at the same time.

As their lips met, Stiles placed his arm over the back of the couch so her head was nestled comfortably in the crook of his elbow. Then, he reached his other hand to cup the back of her head, running his fingers through her long hair and down to settle on her waist. Y/N slid her own hand higher to wrap her arm around him.

Y/N felt electric. Their movements were perfectly in sync, as if they had been doing this forever. Though she didn't want to stop, they broke apart for air then, but barely moved away from each other. Stiles reached to tuck her hair behind Y/N’s ear before dropping his hand to rest lightly on her bare ankle.

And then the world tilted

She was back in the windowless room, the click of a shackle echoing off the walls as it locked around her ankle. She couldn't get enough air, she -

Y/N jerked away from Stiles, gasping and shaking.

"Y/N?”

His voice, high with alarm, sounded distant to her ears, but somewhat brought her back to reality. She was in their living room, on the couch, and Stiles -

She placed both hands on the back of her neck, panting. "Sorry. I don't know what just happened. "

"It's okay," Stiles said quickly, and she saw him reach for her before hesitating and changing his mind. "Was it something I did?”

Y/N shook her head, trying to clear it. "I just... I need some air."

"Okay," Stiles said, standing as she did.

She moved to the patio door in the kitchen and slid it open, gulping down the cool, night air, sensing Stiles slowly approach her from the side. After a few more deep inhales, Y/N closed the door once more and turned to press her back against it, sliding down to the floor.

And then, she couldn't help it. She started crying.

"Y/N," Stiles said, worry coating his voice.

Through her tears, she saw him drop to the ground next to her.

She felt Stiles place an arm around her tentatively, as if unsure whether it was the right thing to do in the situation. But when she leaned into him, pressing her cheek to his chest, he wrapped his other arm around her and cradled her to him.

"Shhh, it's okay," he said, his voice soft above her ear. "You're safe."

She allowed the warmth of his body and the sound of his steady heart beat lull her until she managed to stop the flow of tears. She sagged against him and let out a long breath. "I'm sorry. I don't know what that was."

He stroked her hair. "You went through a lot. I’d be more concerned if you weren’t feeling like this."

Y/N sniffed. "But I felt fine. More than fine. I don't know what brought it on."

Stiles rested his chin on the top of her head. "When you go through something traumatic, sometimes your body reacts to things against your control.”

"Well it sucks," Y/N said.

Stiles laughed quietly, the shaking of his shoulders jostling her. "I know. But it won't last forever. Let's call the therapist first thing tomorrow, okay?"

Y/N nodded, sniffling again. Then said, "I think maybe I should go lie down afterall."

"Alright, c'mon."

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AO3 link

tag list: @lzz-chaos, @combative5sos

posted May 19, 2020

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quercussp · 4 years

Text

The Fantastic Mr. Whiskers

Rating: T

Word count: 3.1k

Summary:

Mr. Whiskers does not approve of guests. But this human? This human was ok. This human could stay.

Authors note:

Happy holidays @babethepig! I hope you like this fic, even though I interpreted the prompt a bit loosely.

Written for the prompt: Phil can talk to animals but he keeps his power hidden. Dan and Phil start dating. Dan has a cat (because in this universe Dan has the right opinion and Phil is not allergic) the cat is really grumpy and usually hates everyone but it loves Phil. Dan is confused especially after he keeps catching Phil and the cat in -what looks like- deep conversations. The cat doesn't like certain things and Phil seems to know just why it is grumpy all the time, Dan gets suspicious and Phil ends up telling him about his power.

A huge thank you to my betas @alittledizzy and @templeofshame and the WWC crew for the support and encouragement. I couldn't have done this without you <3

Warnings: very minor homophobia (blink and you will miss it)

[read on ao3]

Mr. Whiskers was fond of his human. Most of the time. Ok, about half of the time. He assumed that the human meant well, but why did he keep buying this disgusting fish flavored dry food when Mr. Whiskers obviously hated fish? How many times did he have to turn over the bowl or sulk in the corner under the table for his human to figure that out? Weren’t humans supposed to be the most intelligent animals in the world? (Mr. Whiskers internally snorted at that. Yeah right, they think that, but then they also shout at pictures moving in the big box in the living room. Even the most stupid alley cat knew that they can’t hear you if they’re inside the box.)

His human also insisted on inviting the most horrible people into his flat. One of them was apparently his brother, and they always cooked some kind of ridiculous meal with no meat whatsoever, only carrots and stupid broccoli. Not even a little dash of milk! Absolutely no edible scraps Mr. Whiskers could steal from the table and enjoy in peace. The other person who came over to their home was a woman with a loud voice and different colored hair, and the tendency to constantly want to squish Mr. Whiskers with no consideration of his dignity or desire to be squished. He wasn’t some kind of lap dog to be “cuddled” and cooed at! Didn’t that woman have a mother who would teach her to KEEP HER STUPID FURLESS HANDS TO HERSELF? Honestly, some humans needed a little scratch once in a while to know their place, and he didn’t care that his human would yell “Mr. Whiskers, behave yourself!” every time he did it. He’ll behave himself when the guests behave themselves.

And the third semi regular visitor his human had was his mother, who called his human “Daniel” and would sit on the sofa drinking tea in silence. Sometimes she would ask a question like “So, have you decided about going back to university?” or “Are you still working at that convenience store? I think you should be looking for something more serious,” or “Have you been seeing anyone? My friend’s daughter is about your age, I think you should give her a call.” And even though she never did anything annoying to Mr. Whiskers and even sometimes brought him a nice treat, he absolutely hated having her over, because his human would get sad and quiet afterwards, and sometimes lie in bed for an entire day. And no amount of rubbing against his hands or purring on his chest would make him smile.

But most of the time, it was just the two of them. His human would usually have to be woken up by Mr. Whiskers’ insistent meowing. Honestly, if it weren’t for him, the human would probably never get to work on time. And Mr. Whiskers would never get fed. After giving Mr. Whiskers some food (ok, why the constant fish? Urgh, it’s disgusting), the human would pour some milk over his dry food (without fish, one would note. Why does the human get fish-free dry food while Mr. Whiskers has to suffer?) and sit at the table slowly chewing on it. If the human would get too slow or close his eyes for too long, Mr. Whiskers would make sure to drop something off of the counter to wake him up. Then, the human would go into the bathroom and shower (yet further proof that humans are not that intelligent. Why would anyone voluntarily pour water over themselves? Idiotic.) and get dressed. There would then be the regular argument where Dan would shout “Why did you have to sleep on my work pants again? You got fur all over them! Just use the fucking bed I bought you!” and Mr. Whiskers would hiss and jump straight into the pile of clothing on the floor of the bedroom and start kneading at them. Show his human who’s boss. Then the human would leave and Mr. Whiskers could get some good sleep in the human’s comfortable bed. (Dan wonders why Mr. Whiskers doesn’t sleep in the bed he bought him? Well, why did he buy him a bed that’s like 20 times smaller than his own? Does this human seriously thinks that he needs more space than Mr. Whiskers? Ridiculous.)

The evenings were mostly spent with the human sitting in front of the big box with some kind of toy and screaming loudly at the moving objects while Mr. Whiskers lay curled up on the couch and eyed his human with pity. They are never going to hear you, you fool. Just give up already. And after dinner (fish dry food, again; someone needs to smack some sense into this human) they would go to bed, Dan under the covers and Mr. Whiskers usually on the large chair where the human put his black work pants that night. (What? The chair is comfortable!)

So when one evening, someone Mr. Whiskers never seen before walked in with his human, Mr. Whiskers was immediately suspicious. The new guest was as tall as Dan, but had black hair and bright blue eyes. He was smiling and out of breath, and was looking around the apartment in wonder.

“So, this is my place,” Dan said, his voice sounding uncharacteristically shaky. “And this is Mr. Whiskers. Don’t mind him, he’s very grumpy, so don’t be offended if he hates you.”

Mr. Whiskers hissed in indignation. He wasn’t grumpy! He was an absolute delight if you knew how to behave yourself. He even let his human pet him a couple times the day before, and only hissed at him twice this morning! And Dan dares to call him grumpy?

“Hello Mr. Whiskers!” replied the stranger. “I’m Phil! It’s very nice to meet you.”

There was something really weird about this new human’s voice. Mr. Whiskers couldn’t exactly place what it was, but something was very different.

“Phil, you’re so funny! You honestly think he understands you?” Dan laughed and Mr. Whiskers meowed, offended. Did his human think he’s stupid?

“Of course he does, Dan, and I don’t think he likes you saying that.”

Ok, Phil seemed to be acceptable so far. He seemed respectful. Mr. Whiskers could give him a chance. For now.

“Oh Phil, you’re so precious!” Dan replied, and looked at the new guy with a smile on his face that made Mr. Whiskers want to roll his eyes. He looked at him like a little kitten looks at his first bouncy ball, or like his mother used to look at him when she would lick his face. Disgusting.

They ended up sitting on the couch and shouting at the lit up box together, and Mr. Whiskers felt his good opinion of the new ‘Phil’ human decline a bit. He might be smart enough to know that Mr. Whiskers understands them, but still obviously not the brightest kitten in the litter. He was also a little odd in other ways, biting Dan on the shoulder sometimes and giggling all the time. Perhaps he was hungry? Mr. Whiskers would also sometimes bite his human for food, but Dan seemed to react very differently to Phil biting him. When Mr. Whiskers would bite, his human would screech and call him a “dirty animal.” When Phil bit him, however, Dan would flush red and giggle. He looked like a tomato, it was frankly ridiculous.

It was long dark outside by the time Phil stood up from the couch and headed out. He hugged Dan and whispered something in his ear, and then looked Mr. Whiskers directly in the eyes and said “Goodbye Mr. Whiskers! See you soon!”

Something was definitely off about this person.

***

After that night, Phil became a constant presence in the flat. He would come over almost every night and stay later and later. Occasionally, he would stay overnight in the human’s bed and eat breakfast with them. He also seemed to progress from biting Dan to doing all sorts of other stupid things, like licking and sucking on his mouth, laying on his shoulder or on his chest and nuzzling into his neck. And his human seemed to not only allow it, but do the same to Phil. At one point, his human actually pushed Mr. Whiskers out of the bedroom and closed the door. And didn’t let him in the entire night, which was so unthinkably rude that Mr. Whiskers had no choice but to pee in Dan’s palm tree. The next morning they both emerged looking like they didn’t sleep at all, which of course they didn’t. Who would be able to sleep without Mr. Whiskers watching over them? And why did Phil have dark spots all over his neck?

However, even with all of this, having Phil around all the time definitely had some benefits. First of all, Phil apparently loved pizza, which meant that if Mr. Whiskers whined hard enough, he would always get a little pepperoni or sausage out of their plates. Additionally, Phil’s presence drove away Dan’s need to invite other people and Phil himself was always very respectful of the “don’t touch the cat if he doesn’t want it” rule. And of course, Mr. Whiskers was somewhat satisfied to see his human so happy. Some might even say that Mr. Whiskers was happy for him, but those people would be wrong, of course; Mr. Whiskers was far too important of a creature to really care about the wellbeing of his human (even though he did know that if Phil dared to hurt Dan, he would scratch his eyes out and not even think about it).

But the most significant changes came from the fact that Phil seemed to somehow just know things. Or, at least, guess some of the things Mr. Whiskers wanted. For example, one time when they were having breakfast and Dan was pouring the horrid fish dry food into Mr. Whisker’s bowl, Mr. Whiskers let out a frustrated meow. While Dan refused to get the hint for several years, Phil immediately seemed to understand Mr. Whisker’s frustration and told Dan that “I don’t think your cat really likes this type of food, maybe we should get him something different?” And indeed, a couple days later Phil brought over several different bags of cat food and had Dan perform a complicated taste test to determine which one was Mr. Whisker’s favorite. And somehow, Phil was able to exactly tell Dan which one Mr. Whisker’s liked most (the duck flavored one, of course, although the beef and rabbit one were also not bad).

Phil also would always say a proper hello and goodbye to Mr. Whiskers and always asked him if he could pet him. But the weirdest thing was that when Mr. Whiskers wasn’t in the mood for sentimental cuddles, Phil would just chuckle and say, “Ok, ok, maybe next time.” And whenever Mr. Whiskers allowed Phil to pet him, the human managed to scratch the perfectly right spot. Mr. Whiskers has never met a human who understood him as well as Phil.

***

One morning, Mr. Whiskers could tell something was wrong as soon as he woke up. The day before was one of the rare nights Phil wasn’t here, and Dan had spent the previous evening outside the house, only to come home at two am, pale, shivering and with puffed red eyes. He immediately went to bed without even saying hi to Mr. Whiskers or giving him the normal scratch behind the ears. The next morning, no matter how much Mr. Whiskers meowed or scratched at him, no matter how many cups he threw off of the counter, his human refused to get out of bed. He was lying under his blankets, covering his entire head, and Mr. Whiskers could hear a quiet sobbing from under it.

That morning Dan never got up for work. He just lay in bed, standing up only once to go to the bathroom and carelessly throwing some food in the general direction of Mr. Whisker’s bowl. The sun set and his human never stood up to turn on any lights. He just lay in bed motionless, sometimes letting out a quiet sob.

It was fully dark when Mr. Whisker’s heard the door open.

“Dan? Baby? Are you home?” Phil’s voice rang out in the darkness. Mr. Whiskers immediately raced to the door and started meowing at Phil. If anyone could cheer his human up, it would be Phil. Something was definitely wrong.

Phil entered the living room and turned on the light. Then he looked Mr. Whiskers right in the eyes and said, “You’re saying he didn’t get out of bed at all?”

Mr. Whiskers stared in shock at Phil.

“Listen, Mr. Whiskers, I can speak to animals, it’s no big deal. I just didn’t want Dan to know in case he thought I was weird or something. But we can discuss this in detail later; can you please tell me what happened to Dan?”

If Mr. Whiskers were a less dignified cat, he probably would have freaked out. But Mr. Whiskers doesn’t freak out. He’s always collected and poised, and honestly it’s not like he was that surprised, truly. (He definitely was.)

Quickly collecting himself from not being shocked at all, Mr. Whiskers proceeded to tell Phil exactly what was going on. Phil just looked intently at him and nodded along.

“Did he have anything to eat? He was crying yesterday? He was supposed to stay at his parents, but you’re saying he came back in the middle of the night? Ok, ok. Wait, slow down. Oh, he sometimes cries when his mom visits? Ok, I’ll see what I can do. Thank you, thank you!”

With that, Phil poured some water into a glass and quietly opened the door into the bedroom.

“Let me see how Dan is doing and I’ll feed you, Mr. Whiskers,” Phil whispered. Ok, that was fair. As long as it didn’t take forever, because dinner was supposed to be served at least two hours ago.

After a couple minutes of waiting, Mr. Whiskers slid into the dark bedroom and saw that Phil was lying in bed next to Dan, combing his fingers through his curly hair and murmuring into his ear.

“I’m so sorry, love. It’s his loss, you’re perfect. I’m so so sorry.”

“I wanted them to get to know you…” Dan sobbed. “I thought they would be happy for me.”

“They’ll come around, Danny, and if not, it’s their loss. It’s going to be ok, I’m here.”

Mr. Whiskers wanted to remind Phil of his promise to feed him dinner, but decided that he might not actually be that hungry. Instead, Mr. Whiskers climbed onto the bed and firmly planted himself between the two humans, kneading at the softness of Dan’s stomach and purring loudly. Dinner could wait until his human was a little happier. Maybe Mr. Whiskers would even curl up in Dan’s lap later, and let him pet him for an hour or two. Mr. Whisker’s was generous like that.

***

The next morning Phil woke up earlier than Dan and slipped out of bed into the kitchen.

“Let him sleep” he whispered to Mr. Whiskers who was about to start the normal process of waking Dan up. “I told our manager he won’t come into work today; he had a rough night.”

Mr. Whiskers followed Phil out into the kitchen and jumped up on the breakfast bar.

“So…” Phil said.

Mr. Whiskers stared at him.

“You hungry?”

Of course he was.

“Why is all of this crap on the floor? You tried to wake him up that way? Honestly, Mr. Whiskers, are you expecting me to clean this up? Of course you are.”

Phil quickly swept up the broken china and put the rest of the junk off the floor back onto the counter.

“Here, let me get you some food. Do you want the duck or the rabbit? Duck? Ok!”

He poured some food into the bowl and put it on the table.

“Come have breakfast with me, Mr. Whiskers. I think Dan might be sleeping in for a bit.”

Phil made himself a cup of coffee and got a biscuit from the cupboard. They sat at the table in silence, both munching on their food for a bit.

“So… Alligators are pretty cool, aren’t they?”

Mr. Whiskers just stared at him.

“What? They are! I went to the zoo with my family once and the alligator told me that my thighs are my best feature! Although I don’t know if he was saying that from an aesthetic or food related point of view. Either way, that was really nice of him.”

Mr. Whiskers glanced down at Phil’s thighs.

“Well, the alligator liked them, so you can keep your snarky comments to yourself,” Phil laughed. “Dan appears to like them, so shush.”

Mr. Whiskers laid down on the table and flicked his tail.

“Hey, don’t insult my boyfriends taste. He chose you as a pet, didn’t he?” Phil smirked. “Well of course he didn’t choose you, it was the other way around, what am I even saying. And you did a good job, you have a nice human there, don’t you.”

Just as Phil was saying that, the door to the bedroom creaked open and a sleepy-looking Dan emerged.

“Who are you talking to, Phil?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

Mr. Whiskers and Phil shared a glance and the cat jumped off the table and walked towards Dan. He rubbed his side on Dan’s legs and purred.

“Why are you suddenly so nice? What’s going on?”

“Nothing, babe, we were just having breakfast. Do you want something?” Phil replied in an exaggeratedly innocent voice.

Honestly, Phil was the worst liar Mr. Whiskers has ever seen. Dan looked at Phil with even more suspicion.

To break the tension, Mr. Whiskers had to plunge his claws into Dan’s naked shin.

“Owww, you animal, what the fuck!?” Dan shouted, and Mr. Whiskers proudly walked away, successfully defusing the situation. Watch and learn, Phil. Watch and learn.

“Will you still move in with me if this monster of a cat lives here?” Dan asked Phil, rubbing his scratched up ankle. He plopped himself into a chair at the table and took a sip of Phil’s coffee.

“Do you seriously think I would dare move in without getting Mr. Whiskers’ approval?” Phil replied. “It’s not like it’s up to you or me if I get to live here.”

Mr. Whiskers jumped into Dan’s lap and curled up into a ball. Dan automatically started combing his hands through his soft fur.

“Do you approve, Mr. Whiskers?” Dan asked him. “I think he approves,” he smiled widely at Phil.

“Oh, he does, as long as we keep buying him the duck-flavored cat food,” Phil replied.

Mr. Whiskers started purring loudly in Dan’s lap. Phil was ok. Phil could stay, he decided.

#phanfiction #my fic #phan #phandom fic fests holiday exchange

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

Text

Sanctuary -Chapter 4

Warnings: none. Just some cute Ovi and little kids ;)

Tagging: @valkyrie-of-the-light, @alievans007, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y

It is a fifteen-minute drive into town; a picturesque central area with a healthy mixture of both low and high end shops and numerous eateries and cafes. In the winter it is reminiscent of a Dickens novel; snow covered trees and streets, the Victorian area store fronts boasting immaculate decorations and displays in their front windows, white lights strung from almost every available surface, and a skating rink in the centre of it all. In the summer, when tourists flowed into the area and brought in the most money for the economy, the sidewalks were full of patios and lined with immaculate floral gardens. Telluride is a small town, and regular residents all seemed to know one another; conversing in front of the bank and post office, catching up on gossip and talking about high school sports. Tyler’s already exchanged pleasantries and small talk with five people, and that was when just stepping out of the car.

When they’d first arrived, talk had spread fast about the new family in town. They’d spent four months living with her parents and getting on their feet before buying able to buy a home with their joint savings and money that Mahajan had managed to scrap together and give as thanks for taking care of his son. Nik had taken it upon herself to act as the ‘small town gossip’, quickly using some of her contacts to spread small little rumours about who they were: an ex Australian Army soldier who’d been injured in Afghanistan and forced to retire at a young age, his young pregnant wife and their baby girl, and a kid that they’d adopted after losing both of his parents. It had managed to keep people from asking too many questions when they’d show up unannounced at the house with various casseroles and baked goods and welcoming gifts. Every so often someone would ask about his service record and just what happened that forced him to leave at such a young age and Tyler would just repeat the same old bullshit about arthritis and nagging injuries and show off some of the more prominent scars that marred his body. Just like five years ago in Dhaka, people had taken to them. They were young, friendly, always willing to lend a hand if someone needed it. Never too accessible, but just accessible enough. Never free and easy with their personal information, but giving out just enough that kept people curious. And when he started his own business, word travelled fast and within a week he had a client list of over two dozen. On his first day of school, Ovi already had people waiting to meet him. Interested in who the kid with the ex Army Aussie dad was.

Even five years later it is a novelty of sorts: an Australian living in their small town. They’re intrigued by his accent and his slang and always want to hear stories about ‘the land down under’. Even now he couldn’t go into the hardware store or into the pharmacy to buy diapers without someone wanting to hear all about kangaroos and koalas and was it really true they had spiders the size of dinner plates? He humoured them for the most part; slightly annoyed when they attempted to copy the way he talked. What was the saying? Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery? He’d just laugh it off and they’d think it was hilarious whenever he called them mate.

The twins and Millie had decided to tag along; the boys wanting mohawks done at the barber and their sister wanting ice cream. The little mom and pop candy store was always one of their stops when they happened to make it into town, and she wasn’t about to let her father forget about it.

“I can take her,” Ovi offers, still trying to make up for his huge fuck up the night before. “I could use some ice cream too.”

“Oh please, daddy?! Please?!” Millie gushes, as she waits for him to unload her brothers from their car seats before tending to her. “Can Ovi take me for ice cream? Let Ovi take me for ice cream!”

“Sometimes I think you love him more than me,” he teases, as he leans across the back seat to unbuckle her, and in response she curls both arms around his neck and gives him a sloppy, noisy kiss on the forehead.

“I don’t love anyone more than you daddy.”

“Not even mommy?”

“Mommy is a close second. Don’t tell her that though. It might make her sad.”

“What about your brothers? Where are they on your list?”

“Oh they are wayyyy down there. Like between broccoli and Brussel sprouts.”

“You hate broccoli and Brussel sprouts.”

Her eyes narrow. “Exactly.”

He can’t help but laugh at the seriousness in her voice, at the frown that takes over her face, the way her normally brilliant blue eyes grow dark. So much like him in so many ways. He sees it all the time; in all of his kids. Certain facial expressions and mannerisms that he long ago recognized in himself.

“Okay, I know they piss you off, but they’re still your brothers,” he reminds her, as she clambers out of the SUV.

“Maybe they’re adopted,” she sounds hopeful at the idea, and then rolls her eyes at them when they start harassing her about her dress and her pig tails.

“I hate to break it to you, but they’re not. They definitely came out of mommy’s tummy. I was there. I saw it happen.”

“But how’d they get in there? Maybe other babies got put in her tummy by accident.”

“Naw, I was there for that too. So sorry. You’re stuck with the brothers you have.”

She’s side eyeing them now, with absolute disdain despite the fact they’re actually behaving and just waiting patiently for their dad to lock the car and set the alarm. He recognizes that look, too. He’s used it many times himself when someone’s mere presence has annoyed the shit out him.

“They’re just so…ughhh…” she huffs dramatically.

That’s definitely more her mother coming out.

“But at least I have you, right Ovi?” she curls a hand around two of his fingers and gazes up at him adoringly. “At least you won’t pick on me and pull my hair and do stupid boy stuff. You’re like an older brother, right? That’s what mommy always says. That you’re practically my big brother. Is that true?”

The kid looks as if he may burst into tears at the mere thought of it. “If that’s what you want. Do you want me to be your big brother? I’ve always wanted a little sister.” He’s always seen her that way. She’d been his first hands on experience with babies and he’d relished every moment. Never once complaining when he was asked to change a dirty diaper or she threw up on his clothes. He was a natural, calm, patient, compassionate. A surprise, considering he’d never been brought up experiencing any of those traits.

“I can be your little sister,” she offers, and picks his arm up and slings it around her shoulders.

It takes him a moment to compose himself. And he blinks his eyes several times and clears his throat and then smiles down at her.

“I’d like that.”

****

When he was a kid, this place would have been paradise. An entire wall devoted to clear plastic cylinders filled with a rainbow of various candy, display cases showing of chocolates in all kinds of shapes and even cartoon characters and over two dozen different flavours of fudge. There’s even an old fashion milkshake and ice cream bar on the far wall, serving everything from basic cones to sundaes with dozens of available toppings, and enormous banana splits.

Oh, to be a child again! He longed for those days. Not his childhood and his previous life in India; spent as a prisoner in his own home because of his father’s evil misdoings. But a childhood that would be much simpler. Worry free. Where he could actually be a kid and enjoy all the innocence that came with it. If he could choose, he would pick this moment, this place, this family, to experience as a child. In a home where he felt safe. Valued. Respected. Loved. Where his opinions and his feelings are validated, and he can speak without being spoken to. Where there is more laughter than there were tears. More smiles than harsh raised voices.

And love. Lots and lots of love.

That is what he witnessed in his new home, with his new family. He’d been made to feel as if he was loved just as much as the biological children. He was valued. Seen as a person and not a thing. Tyler and Esme never said those three little yet powerful words, but he felt them. In the way they expressed pride in his school accomplishments, in the way they helped him battled his issues since the incident in Dhaka five years ago, how they encouraged him to always try his best and learn from his mistakes. Even when he was younger and being disciplined, there was love in it. They only wanted what was best for him and hated to see him wandering down difficult paths.

No. They never said it. Neither did he. But it was all around him. And inside of him.

Half a dozen customers linger in the store; a small family picking out candy, a couple sitting on the stools at the counter, and a solo man sitting in one booth at the very back. A trucker style hat pulled low over his eyes, sleeves of brightly coloured tattoos visible under his t-shirt, a mug of black coffee and that day’s newspaper in front of him. He glances up as they enter; his eyes locking on Ovi’s for a split second, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Ovi finds it a tad unsettling. He’s spent a lot of time wandering the town and in and out of the various shops and he’s never seen that face before. And in Telluride, newcomers stick out like sore thumbs.

Millie tightly holds his hand and happily skips alongside of him, pausing every couple of feet to spin in a circle; commenting on the way her dress looked when she twirled. Because that’s how the princesses’ dresses moved in all the movies she’s seen, and she would very much like to be a princess when she’s old.

And a firefighter.

“That’s quite the combination,” he remarks. “A princess and a firefighter? Are you going to wear your tiara and your princess dress when you go to fires?”

“Maybe the dress, but not the tiara,” she says. “Because I wouldn’t be able to get my helmet on.”

Pretty sound logic.

He notices the way people watch them, mostly out of curiosity. That sweet little girl in her blue and white gingham dress and her light up Frozen sandals. With her unruly hair and her huge blue eyes, her hand tightly clutching his. They probably think he’s a babysitter. Or a family friend. But truth be told, he is closer to her than he’s ever been to any of his blood family.

“Let’s see what we want,” he says, and scoops her up into his arms, settling her on his hip in the same fashion he’s seen Tyler use so many times. And she curls an arm around his neck and pushes her unruly hair out of her eyes and leans forward as far she can go in order to get a closer look at the tubs of ice cream laid out in the freezer before them. He doesn’t know why he bothers. She orders the same thing every time they’re there.

“Aren’t you a lucky little girl,” the cashier says, as she rings up their order. “Having a friend take you out for ice cream.”

“Oh, he’s not my friend,” Millie informs her. “He’s my brother.”

The woman arches an eyebrow.

“What she means is…” Ovi attempts an explanation of his own, but Millie jumps right in.

“Just ‘cause we look different doesn’t mean he’s not my brother. ‘Cause he is. My mommy and daddy adopted him when his mommy and daddy died. He didn’t have anywhere else to live so mommy and daddy let him live with us. I also have three other brothers.”

“Are they adopted to or…”

“Nope. They’re my real brothers. They have the same mommy and daddy as I do. Two little brothers were enough and when mommy was having another baby, I really wanted a little sister. Or a puppy. Puppies don’t cry all the time and wake me up in the middle of the night and steal my toys. But nope, another brother,” she’s clearly disgusted by that fact. “How come so many boys? Daddy says that some people just have lots of boys and others have lots of girls and some just have a little of both. But mommy says daddy is a boy making machine. Whatever that means.”

“I am so sorry,” Ovi apologizes. “She likes to talk.”

“My brothers that came right after me are twins,” she continues, taking the cashier’s wide-eyed interest and awe at her precociousness as her cue to keep going. “Tanner. And Tyler. Tyler’s my daddy’s name too. My baby brother is Declan. He’s the cutest one. The other two are just way too annoying. And Declan doesn’t pick on me and pull my hair. And I’ll make sure he doesn’t…” she makes a fist, as if to signify she’s going to punch him in the face if he doesn’t tow the line.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ovi notices the tattooed man in the trucker hat slipping out of his booth; mug of coffee and newspaper in his hands as he moved closer to them. Dropping into one of the stools closest to the entrance. He shifts nervously from foot to foot; keeping one arm tight around Millie as he pocked his change and then carries her and their treats to the nearest table. He makes sure that he’s facing the door. Tyler has always told him that is was the smart thing to do; you didn’t want to be surprised by trouble sneaking up on you.

He hates that he’s still so paranoid. That the nightmare he’d gone through in Dhaka still bothers him to this day. It’s his cross to bear; painful and heavy. And some days he just wishes he could ease the burden on his tired shoulders.

Instead of taking the seat across from him, Millie slips in right beside him, kneeling on the vinyl bench in order to reach her ice cream. She happily digs in; spooning the bubble gum flavoured concoction into her mouth as she rattles on about gymnastics and martial arts and how she really wishes that daddy didn’t hate hockey so much, because she’d really like to learn how to play it. And how to hit people really hard and fight them. And as he listens intently and offers up nods and appropriate responses, he casually keeps an eye on the stranger seated at the counter. Ovi knows he’s watching them. He can feel it every time he looks away to pay attention to Millie.

“Ovi?” she suddenly asks, as she licks ice cream off her fingers.

“Yeah?”

“What does daddy do? What’s his job?”

“He fixes up houses and makes them nice again. And helps people do things they’re not able to do in their own homes. You know that.”

“I don’t mean that job. I mean his other job. The one that Auntie Nik always calls him on the phone about.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I…”

“He always leaves in the middle of the night and then he’s gone in the morning and I’m mad that he didn’t even say goodbye,” she continues. “And then he’s gone a long time and mommy is really sad and cries about it. She tries to say that she doesn’t cry, but I hear her when she thinks I’m asleep. I know she’s worried about daddy. Is he doing bad things?”

“No,” he assures her. “He’s not.”

“I don’t like that he’s gone all the time. It makes me sad. And then I can’t sleep because I’m sad and daddy isn’t there to tuck me in and read me a story. Where is he? Where does he go? Mommy says he’s far away, but he still calls us every night. It makes me feel better when he calls. ‘Cause I can hear his voice.”

“He’s a lot of different places,” Ovi explains. “He travels a lot.”

“But what does he do? What kind of job is it?”

“He helps people. People that are in trouble.”

“Are bad guys after the people?”

He nods. “The bad guys are after them and your dad goes and helps them get away. He rescues good people from bad people.”

Her eyes widen and her voice is above a whisper, speaking in astonished awe. “You mean like a superhero?!”

He grins. “Just like a superhero.”

“Like the Avengers?!”

“Just like them. Just like Thor.”

“Oh, he’s my favourite!” she gushes. “Mommy’s too because she says he’s a total snack.”

“I wouldn’t tell your dad that. About mom thinking Thor’s a snack. Or about how you know he’s a superhero. He doesn’t see himself that way and he doesn’t like to talk about it. You know how some superhero’s keep it a secret and no one knows who they are? That’s how it is with your dad. So we’ll just keep it between us, okay? You don’t want to embarrass him, right?”

“I’m not brave, mate.”

“Of course you are. You rescue people.”

“Yeah, sometimes. Sometimes I do other things.”

“You mean like killing people?”

Ovi can hear that conversation as if it were just yesterday. At Gaspar’s house, when he’d asked Tyler if he’d always been brave. How could you not be? When you willingly put your own life on the line to save the lives of others? Even if there was money involved, it still took a lot of courage to go into a situation where you didn’t know if you’d survive or not. Tyler and his father were nothing alike. His father had killed people with horrible intentions. Tyler kills because he has to. To save others and himself. He would never tell the little girl beside him that. Those details are difficult to digest and painful to hear about, and she doesn’t need to know them until she is older.

And maybe not even then.

“Ovi?” she asks once again, and he uses the tip of his thumb to clear ice cream from the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah?”

“That man is giving me the creeps.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, tries to play it cool. “What man?”

“That one,” her eyes narrow once more as she glares at the stranger in question. “He keeps looking at us. Why does he keep looking at us?”

“Maybe he just thinks you’re cute. Or he’s jealous because you have ice cream and he doesn’t.”

“We could always ask him,” she suggests. “About why he’s staring at us.”

“Or we could just mind our own business and eat our ice cream. We don’t want it to melt, do we?” he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her a little closer and a little tighter to his side.

***

The chime above the door sounds as it swings open and Ovi watches as Tyler and the boys enter; the twins being maneuvered over the threshold with a large, strong hand gripping the back of their shirts, effectively steering them in the right direction. Both have mohawks now; one with frosted green tips, the other blue, and Ovi grins at the sight of Tyler’s own new look. Or was it in an old look? Newish oldish perhaps? The same cut he’d sported when they first five years ago. He remembers how he’d been intrigued by it; no one at school would dare have their hair cut like that and there was no way his own father or any of those paid to watch him would have ever allowed him to get it done.

He also notices it’s a bad knee day. That limp a little more prominent than usual.

“Over here boys,” he says to his sons, and with a gentle push with his thighs sends them the right way.

Ovi clears his throat noisily, making it a point to catch Tyler’s attention. And when their eyes lock, he makes a small nod in the direction of the man sitting at the counter. Pretending to be immersed in his paper as the cashier refills his coffee mug. Through the lenses of his sunglasses, Tyler’s able to check him out without even being noticed, and Ovi sees the way his head barely moves as he gives the stranger a once over; his brow slightly furrowed, lips set in a thin line.

“Hi daddy!” Millie cheerfully greets as he approaches the table, and Ovi notices how the stranger finally looks up; no expression on his face as he eyes Tyler from head to toe. “What’s up with your hair?”

“Most of it’s gone. Why? You don’t like it?”

She frowns. “It’s kinda weird.”

“Blame your mother. She likes it like this. Get in,” he instructs his sons, and helps each of them by grabbing the back of their shorts and lifting them onto the bench.

“Nice hair cuts boys,” Ovi enthuses, and he gets high fives from each of them. “Very cool. What’s up with the colour though?”

“My wife’s going to kill me,” Tyler laments, and then heads off to purchase ice cream for the twins. Ovi notices yet again that the man at the counter watches him intently; brows arching as he takes in the tall, powerful frame.

Impressed, maybe? A little intimidated? Even now Ovi himself found it hard not to be. When you’re that tall and you’re back and shoulders are that broad and your muscles are that big, you tend to draw attention to yourself. Mostly it was from women. Ovi noticed that a lot. The females like Tyler’s big muscles and his blue eyes.

Tyler slides into the seat across from him, removing his sunglasses, placing them on the tabletop and then getting the twins settled with their ice cream. He’s a good dad. Ovi has always thought so. He’s a gentler version of himself when he’s in ‘dad mode’; his features softening, his voice not as gruff. Calm and patient.

“What’s up with that guy?” he asks, jerking his head in the direction of the counter.

“He’s been staring at us,” Millie answers for Ovi, as she ducks under the table, crawls to the other side and then resurfaces and climbs onto her dad’s lap. “It’s creepy.”

“Maybe he just thinks you’re cute,” her father reasons. “Or he wants your ice cream.”

“That’s what Ovi said. Hey!” she flashes a dramatic pout when he helps himself to some of her treat.

“He’s just been sitting there,” Ovi says. “He was here before we got here.”

“What’s he be doing?”

“Sitting. Reading the paper. Drinking coffee.”

“And watching us,” Millie pipes up. “Super creepy. I don’t like creepers.”

Tyler chuckles at the use of the word ‘creepers’, and running a palm over her hair, drops a kiss on the top of her head. “You definitely are your mother’s daughter.”

“You ever seen him before?” Ovi asks. Tyler’s in town more than he is; always at the hardware store picking things up for his side business.

“Don’t think so. I think I’d remember a face like that. Definitely doesn’t fit in around here.” But then again, neither did he really. With the accent and the tattoos and the scars. And now the haircut.

“People are weird,” Tanner chimes in. He’s the observant one out of the two boys; the kind that sits back and quietly takes in a situation or an environment, brain coming up with different scenarios and outcomes. Wise and intelligent beyond his years.

“You’re one to talk with that haircut,” his father teases, and nudges him playfully with his elbow. “You realize your mother is going to seriously hurt me, yeah? She’s not going to be happy at all. Think it’s worth it? Think it’s worth me having to sleep on the couch for the rest of my life?”

His son nods enthusiastically.

“That’s it. Throw me under the bus. Now I remember why your brother is my favourite,” he’s teasing of course, and reaches across the bench to gently and playfully pinch his name sake just below the ribs.

Ovi notices just how much they all actually do like alike. The same facial features: blue eyes framed by impossibly long and dark lashes, almost the exact same colour and texture of hair, the same noses and ears. Even the same smiles and mannerisms. The way they will each smirk and cock their heads to the side when they’re sensing someone else’s bullshit.

There are definitely some extremely strong genes on Tyler’s side of the family.

“He’s coming this way,” Ovi whispers, as the stranger slides off his stool, and folds his newspaper and puts it under his arm before carrying his empty cup to the cash register.

He’s average height and has a stocky build. Nothing remarkable about him at all save for the arms full of tattoos.

Tyler casually watches him; legs stretched out under the table, an arm across the back of the booth. If he senses something is up, Ovi can’t tell for sure. There’s no darkness to his eyes or furrows across his brow.

The other man turns towards them now, briefly pausing at the side of their table as he looks down at Tyler, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Can I help you, mate?” Tyler asks. Calm. Cool. Collected. It was a trait that Ovi admired; the ability to stare someone down yet remain completely relaxed and expressionless.

“Just admiring your family. I’ve got a few kids of my own back home. Just made me miss them seeing you all together.”

“Where’s back home?”

“Chicago.”

“You’re a long way from home.”

“I could say the same about you. Accent and all.”

Tyler nods slowly. “Here for business or…?”

Ovi enjoys watching the process. The way the questions come so easily and never seem prodding or invasive. Tyler’s expression and tone never wavering.

“You could say that. What brought you here?”

“The wife’s from Colorado. Decided to move here when we started having kids.”

“Definitely a nice place to be. Well you all take care. Enjoy your family. Kids are a special gift. Don’t take it for granted.”

Tyler nods, then casts a casual glance over his shoulder, watching as the man heads through the shop and out the front door.

“Anything?” Ovi asks expectantly. “Feels weird, right?”

“Felt like it’s just a guy away from home and missing his family. I’ve been there. I know what it’s like. He probably just wanted someone to talk to.”

“But the way he was watching us. The way he was watching Millie…”

“Maybe he has a little girl of his own and she reminds him of her.”

“So you felt nothing? You didn’t feel like there’s something weird? Something’s going on?”

Tyler smirks. “Not every strange person is out to get us, mate. Sometimes people are just weird. Or lonely. Sometimes they just want someone to talk to and don’t know how to go about it. Remember how you felt when you first moved here? How different it was and you didn’t have any friends? It’s like that. But a hundred times worse. A guy’s thousands of miles from home, missing his wife, missing his kids, maybe having a shit day. So he wants to reach out to someone.”

“So you really felt nothing? Nothing at all?”

“Just a normal guy missing his family, kid. That’s all. Thought you were getting a handle on this. The paranoia. It’s been five years. If someone from back home was after you, they’d have found you by now.”

“You don’t worry? About people from your past coming to find you?”

“If I just my entire time worrying about stuff like that, I’d never leave the house. And let’s not get too into it, yeah?” he nods down at Millie and then over at the twins. “Little ears and all.”

He likes to keep things on the downlow as far as the kids are concerned. They’re young and vulnerable. Impressionable. And telling them that their dad helps people is one thing, but telling them that he sometimes has to hurt and even kill people to do it, is a different beast all on its own.

“Does chocolate milk come from brown cows?” TJ suddenly asks, effectively breaking the mood.

“Excuse me?” his father laughs. “What?”

“Well if the white milk comes from the black and white cows, where does the chocolate milk come from?” his son continues. “Brown cows, right?”

“That’s not how it works,” Tyler chuckles. “That’s not how any of that works. It comes from putting chocolate in white milk.”

“What about the grass?” Tanner’s turn now. “How come the grass is green and the sky is blue?”

“That’s a simple one,” Tyler says. “If the sky was green like the grass, you wouldn’t know where to stop mowing.”

Ovi can’t help but laugh at that. The way it is said with the utmost seriousness and how the kids are now both in awe that their dad knew that and thinking he’s apparently the smartest man on the planet. He’s able to relax again. Calmed by the fact that he’s with his people.

His family.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fiction #tyler rake fan fic #chris hemsworth character #extraction #sanctuary

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jmeelee · 5 years

Text

@vibranivmheart tumblr ate your fic request ask but here is:

#40: things you interrupted me to say

Derek and Stiles meet, of all places, in the supermarket when they are five and six years old, respectively. Their moms, Talia and Claudia, stop to chat at the end of the refrigerated food isle, and the two boys size each other up over the sides of metal shopping carts brimming with fruit snacks and frozen broccoli.

It’s Stiles who breaks first, overcome with excitement at finally meeting the infamous Derek Hale, whom his mother has mentioned to him. Now that the world knows about and accepts supernatural beings, the Hale family can finally be themselves. Stiles has stars in his eyes as he says, “Wow, you’re—“

“A werewolf! I know! Isn’t it cool?” Derek interrupts.

And so it begins.

*****

“He’s coming, Scotty. How do I look?” Stiles smooths a hand needlessly over his shaved head.

Scott grimaces and zips up his backpack. “A little sweaty, to be honest.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, shoves his hands into his pockets and then pulls them out again. He grabs his hoodie string and starts chewing the end. “Thanks for nothing. Now scram.”

“Good luck!” Scott calls over his shoulder as he heads down the crowded hallway to third period. Stiles puffs out his chest as Derek walks up.

“Hey… Hi,” Stiles sputters, letting the string fall from his mouth, fingers twisting in the front of his sweatshirt. Derek raises one eyebrow. “So I was thinking. There’s a dance on Friday and—“

“Stiles, no way.” Derek shakes his head.

“No?” He squeaks. In his brain’s obsessive computing of how this would go, being shot down so quickly didn’t factor in.

“You can’t go to a middle school dance.” Derek spins the dial on his lock, and it clicks open. “They’re social suicide. Laura told me so; she’s in eleventh grade and knows everything.” He swings his locker open and grabs his history textbook. “And besides, only couples go to those kinds of things.”

“Well, see, that’s the thing. I was thinking maybe—“

“Stiles,” Derek sighs. “Lydia Martin won’t even give you the time of day. She definitely won’t go to the dance with you.” He stands on tip-toes, scrounging for his spiral notebook.

“It’s on the bottom,” Stiles reminds him, “where you always throw it at the end of the day.”

“Oh yeah! Thanks. Anyway, I heard from someone on the basketball team that she likes Jackson Whittemore, and is hoping he asks her to go.” The locker slams shut with a foreboding sense of finality.

“Yeah. Okay, geez. I guess you’re right.” Stiles slips the straps of his backpack over his shoulder, and clutches his books to his chest. “Want to come over and play video games with Scott and I instead?”

“Sounds good!” Derek smacks him on the shoulder. Stiles winces, but not from the force.

*****

“I’m going to fail this final,” Stiles proclaims over the buzz of the cafeteria. “I’m going to fail and Lydia’s GPA will surpass mine and I’ll never become—”

“Valedictorian,” Derek finishes, the word muffled around a huge bite of peanut butter and jelly. “But you will. You’ll ace this test, Stiles. Come on. You always think you’ll fail and you never do. You’ve got this in the bag.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, buddy. Now, are you going to eat the rest of those fries?” Derek slides over the flimsy recycled cardboard holder, leaving a smear of grease on the speckled laminate tabletop.

Erica smirks, a lock of blonde hair curled around her finger. “Where’s the honeymoon going to be? You guys are like a married couple, sharing your food and finishing each other’s sentences.”

Derek’s hackles rise, and he opens his mouth to refute her ridiculous claim when Stiles’ laugh rings out like a bell. Derek never fails to be amazed at how easily jabs seem to roll off his back. “Maybe we would be married if he’d actually let me finish one.” Stiles winks at him, and something foreign flutters behind his ribs.

Derek sits in his hard plastic seat, shell shocked. Stiles throws a fry at his furrowed forehead.

*****

Derek’s never seen Stiles this angry before. He’s the supernatural being, he could kill a man with his bare hands, but right now Stiles—all 147 pounds of him— is the force to be reckoned with. “You think you know what’s best for everyone! But you don’t!” A long finger is stabbed into the center of his chest.

Derek bristles. After all this time, after all they’ve been through, all the people they’ve lost, how dare Stiles think Derek isn’t acting in his best interest? “I do! I’m the—“

“Alpha!” Stiles’ scream rips across the clearing like a needle scratching a record, silence descending in its wake, and all the wolves pause and stare. Derek’s mouth finally snaps shut. “I know,” Stiles seethes. “We all know. Now why don’t you start acting like one?”

There’s three other people out here with him, all he has left in the world to call family. But as Stiles turns and walks away, Derek’s never felt more alone.

*****

“Come on, Stiles!” Derek calls through the front door. “Let me in!”

“Not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin!” Stiles shouts back.

“Cut the crap and open up!” He pounds on the fiberglass with a meaty fist. “And you know you can’t grow facial hair for shit!”

The door swings open so fast Derek face-plants in the entryway. “You take that back, asshole!” Stiles’ face is livid.

Derek rolls over onto his back, exposing his belly. Stiles narrows his eyes at the submissive position. “I know you’re mad, but I can’t apologize for trying to keep you safe. It’s what I’ve always done. It’s what I’ll always do.”

“That’s just it, Derek.” Stiles grabs fistfuls of hair at his temples and pulls. “I’ve been running with you since I was a kid, but you never see me. You never hear—“

Derek scoffs. “What are you talking about? You’re all I see.”

Stiles drops the hands from his hair and squares his shoulders. He puts one hand on the doorknob. “I wish I believed that, but I don’t. I’m tired of being one more thing you need to take care of. I think you should go.”

Stiles isn’t looking at him, gaze fixed on a spot on the wall. Derek sits up, eyes imploring, and wraps a hand around Stiles’ leg. “I’ll go, if you want me to, but I’d rather stay, and fix this. Fix us. I’ll do anything. Just name it.”

Stiles glances down at him. “You have to let me talk. You have to let me say what I need to say, and don’t interrupt.”

Derek mines zipping his lips. The tiny smile he earns in return bolsters his resolve.

Stiles reaches down and grasps Derek’s outstretched hand, pulling him up. He takes a deep breath, and says, “The truth is, I love you, and I’ve been trying to tell you that for a very long time.”

*****

“And do you, Derek, take Stiles to be your—“

“I do.”

Stiles smacks Derek upside the head. “Let the man finish!”

Derek turns to the officiant—who looks five seconds away from wetting his pant—with a sharp smile. “Are you finished?”

“Yeah, sure.” He leans over the podium, signs his name on the marriage license. “Just kiss him already.”

“My pleasure.”

“You’re such—“

“An idiot? An asshole? You signed up for a whole lifetime of this.”

“I did.” Stiles smiles, leaning in for a kiss. “I think I got a pretty good deal.”

Send me a pairing and prompt and I will write you a mini fic

#sterek #eternalsterek #haleinski #vibranivmheart #stiles x derek #I hope you like it sam!#thanks for always supporting my fics #sterek fic #sterek ficlet #my fic

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ficsandpieces · 5 years

Note

I was looking through the list of already made asks and I saw juniors first steps and was wondering we could also get juniors first word(s)???

YES YOU CAN, ANON \( ´ ▽ ` )/

Reiji’s twins:

The first thing his son said was “Num-num” because Reiji was cooking something that smelt really, really good and stirring the pot with one hand while keeping up a running commentary to the baby balanced on his other arm and, well baby has a good appetite and was hungry

The next thing the baby knew he was out of his father’s arms and being seated on the kitchen counter, Reiji in front of him and eagerly showing him anything and everything that he can get his hands on in the hopes of hearing him say it again

So far he’s tried a tin of tomatoes, an apple, expired cup noodles (which went straight into the trash after his son knocked it out of his hand and scowled at him), cloves of ginger,various condiments ranging from salt and sugar to vinegar, a head of broccoli and a bag of potatoes

Reiji even raided the fridge in his excitement at his boy’s first word, presenting to him butter, a bottle of fizzy drink (Baby squealing and clapping his hands in glee when Reiji opened it with a ‘pop’, which wasn’t quite the reaction he had been hoping for but still warmed his heart nonetheless), some leftover chocolates and a spiky fruit which he had no idea why or how it was in the fridge to begin with and that he himself didn’t know the name of

A little disheartened when another vocal miracle did not manifest, Reiji idly picked up a container of leftover fried chicken from the previous night and shook it half-heartedly at his boy

“Num-num!”* Reiji, not believing his ears, shook the container again and was rewarded with another baby version of the word for food and his son trying to take the container from him

He spent the rest of the day calling up everyone he knew (and texting and emailing those who either hung up on him or did not take his call) to both sob at and boast about his boy’s first word

(Ranmaru listened with some understanding at first, but a sizable vein-pop manifested on his temple after ten minutes of listening Reiji repeat himself

Camus hung up when Reiji paused to take a deep breath to recover

Ai, who had been in the middle of something, very sensibly switched off his phone after confirming it wasn’t about work

Reiji blubbered to Ai’s voice mail for a whole twenty minutes before realising that Ai wasn’t even there)

The Kotobuki family ended up having leftovers for days after that since right afterwards Reiji’s mother came over, equally as exhilarated as her son at the news, and the two of them whipped up enough food to feed a few small countries in a frenzy of excitement

»»————-　 ♥ 　————-«« »»————-　 ♥ 　————-««

“You wanna count with Daddy all the ways Daddy loves you? Okay~! One, Daddy loves you so much I would climb the bi–ggest, hi–ghest mountains if you wanted me to. Two, Daddy would do anything, anything in the world for you and your brother and your mommy but you knew that already, right? Three, Daddy would even, well, Daddy would even give up karaage for you. But you wouldn’t torture Daddy like that, right? You love Daddy just as much, don’t you? So much so much sooooo much~”

Reiji’s cheerfully bouncing his baby girl on his lap, enjoying their father-daughter time together

Apparently his daughter thought differently because one little arm flailed and her hand landed on Reiji’s lips, stopping up his mouth momentarily

“What’s that, my baby girl? You think Daddy’s talking too much? Noooo, you need to learn to appreciate the charm of a man who has a way with words like Daddy does—”

“Da!”

This time Reiji’s mouth stopped moving on its own accord

His little girl cocked her head at him, wondering why it was suddenly so quiet

“Dada?”

His mouth moving without forming any coherent words, Reiji stared at his daughter in his arms

His lips trembled and he had to swallow before speaking again

“Say that again for Daddy?” His voice was hoarse, his arms shaking as he held his baby girl up

“Da!”

He broke down completely then, throwing his head back, his puzzled daughter clasped tight to his chest as he bawled openly

Reiji was inconsolable for the rest of the day and the next

His S/O had to spend at least half an hour wiping the tears from his face and coaxing him to tell her what happened while his daughter was trying to squirm out of his grasp and towards her mother

Camus’ daughter:

“ ‘anda!”

Camus froze and stared at his daughter in his arms, who was holding out her arms to Alexander at his feet

“Did you just say ‘Alexander’, angel?”

“ ‘anda!” she insisted, still trying to make her way to Alexander himself, now on his feet and wagging his tail at her, a sign that he was ready to play horsie again

It was the sound of their daughter throwing a minor tantrum that made Camus’ S/O pop her head in to check on them and be greeted by the sight of Camus holding his daughter up with both hands, his face buried solidly in her hair, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs while their baby squirmed and bawled

Alexander was up on his hind legs and leaning on Camus, his nose nudging his arm to release the toddler so that they could go galloping around the house again

Ai’s son:

His son noticed that every time Mommy said a certain word she would either kiss Daddy on the face somewhere or Daddy would do the same for her

And baby boy loves getting hugs and kisses

“Hai?”

Ai stared at his son, his boy holding up his arms towards him with a very expectant look on his face

“What was that again?”

His son tried again, experimentally rolling the word around in his mouth to get it right

(Daddy was very big on saying words correctly)

“Ai!”

Ai.exe and a thousand other programs hung on the spot

Rebooting system, please wait…

“Did you… Could it be that you just said my name?”

His son was getting impatient

“Ai—” he whined, lips pulling into a pout at how the word wasn’t working and no hugs and kisses were forthcoming

There were times when Ai really, really felt that he was going to cry and never failed to be surprised when no tears came out

That day rated among the top three

The only way Ai could relieve the sudden strong waves of emotions that were threatening to overwhelm him was by holding his son tight to him, his head in the crook of his baby boy’s neck

Baby was delighted that the word was finally working

“Say it again?”

“Ai!”

“Again.”

“Ai?”

“Once more.”

“Ai!”

“Again.”

“Bai?”

“Not ‘bai’. ‘Ai’. Come on.”

“Bah.”

Ranmaru’s son and daughter:

Ranmaru’s filling up the cat bowls with food, ignoring the meowing cats twining around his ankles and trying to climb up his legs

Points sternly at Niko who had managed to make his way up to the kitchen counter and was getting ready to make a head-start on dinner

“You. Scoot.”

Niko replied with a disappointed meow, ducked his head under Ranmaru’s scowl and leapt off the table

“Ko!”

Ranmaru’s hand stopped moving, much to the vocal dismay of the three other cats around him

“Ko!”

The cats’ dinner temporarily forgotten, he stepped out cautiously into the living room, still not believing what he thought he heard

His daughter was on the sofa where he left her, Niko stretched out on her lap, letting her run little hands roughly through his fur while she chattered to him in baby talk

“What was that?”

His little girl looked up and grinned gummily at him

“Ko!” she repeated, gathering and holding up what she could of the yawning cat in her arms

Unable to control the huge grin that was spreading across his face, Ranmaru dropped everything he was holding, scooped up both baby and cat and ran out of the room with an elated whoop

His S/O, startled out of what she was doing by the door abruptly slamming open, looked up to have both a giggling baby and a disgruntled cat thrust into her face

“She just talked!”

His S/O blinked and stared in surprise at Niko, who was beginning to look fed up with this whole business

“The hell are you looking at, I’m talking about Tsubaki! Here, say it again!”

He knocked his daughter and cat together excitedly under the worried eyes of his S/O

“Ran, don’t-please be gentle with the baby–”

“Nah, she’ll be fine. She’s tougher than she looks. Tsubaki, who’s this?”

“Ko!”

“Ya hear that? Our girl’s first word! Oi, Sousuke! Where’re you, kiddo?”

And off he goes to look for his son, cat and daughter tucked securely under each arm

»»————-　 ♥ 　————-«« »»————-　 ♥ 　————-««

Sad to say, Ranmaru wasn’t around much during his S/O’s pregnancy and the first few years of his son’s life

His boy’s actual first words were “mama” to Ranmaru’s S/O

It was one of the extremely rare occasions when Ranmaru was home and staring with some trepidation at his son who had been placed in his lap and was gazing back at him placidly

Shit, he’s fucking tiny! And why’s he so soft? What if I drop him and his head cracks wide open? What if I hold him too hard and he explodes?

Ranmaru was completely out of his depth

The only thing he could do was hold the baby gingerly and make sure he didn’t slip off his lap

Ranmaru was on the verge of giving up and getting up to hand off his son to his S/O when his boy curled a small hand around his and looks up at him

“Ba?”

The look of absolute trust in his boy’s eyes pierced right through him

“Baba?”

Ranmaru held him up at arm’s length and stared at him while he processed the sudden feelings of protectiveness that were rising up rapidly from deep inside him

Aww no. Fuck it all to hell.

Ranmaru breathed out a long, long sigh of resignation when he realized what just happened

He brought his son closer and carefully held him to himself

“Guess you’re stuck with me now, eh?”

His baby laid his head on Ranmaru’s chest and closed his eyes

“Yeah, that’s right. You just take it easy. Your old man’s here. Dad’s got your back.”

He gingerly smoothed fine baby hair away from his boy’s face

“I’m here for ya, kiddo. I’m gonna do my best so you stick with me too, alright?”

His son yawned as he snuggled down, one small hand resting over Ranmaru’s heart

The feeling of actually being a father now swelled up inside him once more

“I’m gonna take that as a ‘yes’ then. That’s my boy.”

#utapri #uta no prince sama #Quartet Night #papa!QN #Reiji Kotobuki #ranmaru kurosaki #camus #ai mikaze #papa!Ranmaru #papa!Reiji #papa!Camus #papa!Ai #headcanons #papa!qn prompt fest #Answering asks

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