#I’ll send him a text so I don’t have to actually tell him happy father’s day in person lol

[decembermoonskz]

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[satancopilotsmytardis]

Drabble-A-Thon Prompt #8

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Mature

Prompt: Freestyle!

Contents: Sex worker/professional sub!Dabi, Non-villains AU (yes quirks), Toga is 18, strippers, mentioned orgies, anal plug.

“Happy birthday!” Tomura nearly jumps out of his skin when he opens the door to his apartment a little after six, having fully planned to just crash and then see if anyone wanted to do something tomorrow. But of course one of them had snooped. He would put good money on it being Toga. 

“Get out of my house.” He says flatly as he enters, having to bat a balloon out of his face as he tries to hang up his coat. He has a lavish penthouse apartment, a good job at his adoptive father’s company, and good friends. But they are definitely pushing their luck coming into his space unannounced, and are lucky he’s wearing his gloves and none of them had been too close to the door when he opened it, because otherwise the chances of this having ended in bloodshed were nonzero. Toga and Magne are definitely responsible for having decorated the entire apartment in gray, black, and red balloons and streamers, a black table cloth thrown over his island with food and drink set out on red trays and cups. There is a small pile of presents wrapped on the coffee table in the living room, and his friends are dressed for a party. He finds Spinner, who is half hiding behind Magne. “This is not why I gave you a spare key.” 

“Which is why we didn’t use it to break in.” Atsuhiro tells him haughtily. 

“Your bedroom is fucking scary, Shig.” 

He lets out a long, low sigh. “Who else did you invite?” 

“Everyone in your black book that wasn’t crossed out.” Magne tells him. “Who’s ‘Firefly’? They didn’t answer the phone when we called and texted us instead with rates. Stripper?” 

“Sure.” He says, perking up a little. “Is he coming?” 

“Yeah, consider that your present from me,” Jin tells him, “Cause he was not cheap.” 

“Worth every penny.” Tomura tells them. He is used to throwing some pretty lavish, pretty risque parties at his place. But so far he’s kept those things separate from what he gets up to with his friends. It’s going to be a hell of a time making this shit work, but he’ll figure it out. He always does.

///

They have a couple of hours before other people arrive, and Tomura posts the rules for the engagement tonight. This is a mixing and mingling party, not an open floor. Papers won’t be checked at the door, nothing under the clothes, but there will be entertainers present. He hires a couple of actual strippers he knows he can get on short notice, and also sends Jin and Magne out to get a dozen more bottles of assorted alcohol. He has a reputation to uphold. Before they go, he puts their presents for him in his closet, thanking them for the thought, but telling them tomorrow he’d rather just have them over to unwrap them and then maybe order pizza and watch a movie or something. He makes sure that he’s got his bedroom in order, that there’s enough food ready and out, orders some last-minute catering to cover everything else, and then, when all of his friends are back, he sits them down and preps them. 

“My other associates are into the same styles of play that I am. There won’t be any play going on here tonight, but if at any point someone makes you uncomfortable or they cross a boundary, just tell them politely that you aren’t interested and they should back off. If they don’t, tell me and I’ll have them escorted out.” He turns his attention to Toga and Spinner, “Have either of you ever been to a strip club before?” 

“Yes!” 

“... No.” 

“General rule is no touching, but you can always ask. If you get over-excited, take a second to calm down. The dancers are here as entertainers, but they do work for tips, and different ones will have different rates, so just ask if you want to know, and as long as you're polite, you can turn down anything they offer. The two guest rooms are going to be for private dances, and if any of you spot anyone trying to get into my bedroom who’s not me or accompanied by me, stop them and get my attention.” 

“You seriously do throw orgies in here?” Magne asks. 

“Sometimes.” He prefers to just rent out the nearest club when he wants to host things like this, but he’s had people in his apartment for it before. 

“Ew. I’m never sitting on your couch again.” 

“I have a cleaning service I use to make sure everything is sterilized afterwards.” He says, taking his hair down, removing his tie, and unbuttoning the top few buttons on his shirt. “Besides, if you’re going to object to touching anything where someone has had sex in my apartment, you’re going to have to stand outside the door and shout into the room.” 

“Gross.” 

“You’re the ones who wanted my two worlds to collide.” They brought this on themselves. He gives a survey of the apartment, making sure that everything is good to go. “I have a list of cab companies that pick up after three for anyone too plastered to get home themselves, so when things start to wind down, let people know those are available.” 

He makes sure his friends are all good, and he readies himself for the party.

///

By ten o’clock, things are in full swing. Alcohol is flowing, music is pumping throughout his apartment, there are people mingling and dancing, the entertainers are doing their own thing, and everyone seems to be having a good time. Spinner is being a bit of a wallflower, but Magne bullies him into getting a lapdance and keeps guiding him around the room and pouring him drinks to keep him from clamming up entirely. But he hasn’t seen–

A too hot body presses along his back, the thickness of the straps of the leather harness crossing over his skin enough for Tomura to feel even through his clothes. He smells the distinct whiff of smoke, both from cigarettes and his quirk, and relaxes a bit as Dabi’s lips move against the shell of his ear. 

“I charge extra for parties.” 

“I know, firefly.” He says, turning to face the other man. The others must have told him that it was his birthday, because Dabi is looking mouthwateringly good in a strappy red leather harness with a tiny red thong, a bow sitting at the front of the waistband, and another pretty satin ribbon tied delicately around his neck. “They thought you were a stripper.” 

Dabi snorts, and loops his arms around his neck, pressing their bodies together from shoulders to hips. His mouth moves to Tomura’s jaw and he allows it, wrapping his hands around his slender waist and reveling in the heat against his skin. “Does that mean we can pretend to slip away for a private dance?” 

“Mm,” he definitely wants to treat himself to a full evening with Dabi, “I want you to wait, kitten.” Dabi immediately perks up when he hears what he wants from him. It’s no wonder he can charge what he does when he’s always the perfect sub no matter what the play is. “We’re going to have a private party once everyone else has left. How many drinks have you had, precious?” 

“None, Sir. You haven’t given me permission to drink yet.” He says immediately. 

“Good boy.” He loves how just that is enough to make Dabi’s eyes glaze a little, a shiver of his pleasure going through him. He used to think that Dabi was just a good actor, but it’s abundantly clear now that he just does like the things that they do together. “You can have two for the rest of the night, now go entertain, but no private dances, no lap dances for anyone else. I’ll pay the difference, but I need you to fill the role they hired you for.” 

“Yes, Sir.” But Dabi waits, and it really does feel like an indulgence when Tomura leans down to give him a kiss. He keeps it soft and chaste, a far cry from the low-level debauchery that is filling the space around them. But the restraint, knowing that they won’t be able to have anything else for hours yet, makes it have a current of heat in it that has nothing to do with Dabi’s quirk. 

“Go show off, kitten. I know how much you like the attention.” He gives him one last kiss against his temple, and then lets Dabi saunter off back into the crowd. 

Seeing that he’s wearing a g-string that does nothing to cover up the fact he’s wearing the glass rose plug he’d bought him a few months ago only makes Tomura want to kick everyone out immediately so he can enjoy him. But he holds off. The anticipation will make it even sweeter.

Dabi’s been staying the night more and more now. Maybe he’ll ask him if he wants to stay and meet his friends properly. Maybe he’ll say yes. Maybe when the cake comes out and Dabi uses his quirk to light the candles and he’s told to make a wish in front of everyone gathered, he wishes, looking over the blue flames into even bluer eyes, that this could be something real. Maybe the fact that Dabi brought him a present of custom red leather gloves that he gives to him after everyone else is gone means that it might come true. 

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[authorbiancawilcox]

My Favourite What If (Chapter 1)

Falling in love with your brother’s best friend is a big no-no, but that’s not why I’m panicking right now.

I’m panicking because not only is Kyle Johnson my brother’s best friend, but he’s also my new boss. I look down at my phone in my hands, feeling like I might faint if I don’t sit down.

It had never been a problem, my crush on Kyle. Of course, it made it awkward hanging out with my brother if he was there too, and it did lead to some embarrassing moments when I would get flustered seeing him shirtless when he stayed over, but those were small things. 

The message is from my brother, Andy, who I love, but sometimes he gets me in trouble when I could do without it. Andy is away right now, at university studying to become a dentist. Unlike him, I hadn’t wanted to do any other schooling after I graduated. Which he somehow thought I needed help with, since I hadn’t been able to get a job for the past few months.

Hey Hanna, Kyle said he has a position as his secretary…

Why does he always have to do this? I skim my eyes over the rest of the message, and it’s even worse than I thought. He actually told Kyle I needed the job, and that I would be happy to do it. Well, I guess I’m screwed. I don’t bother answering him; he can’t be stuck in left on read jail, and I instead open my messages with Kyle. Or lack thereof. 

I nibble my lip and look at our bare message history. The exchanges we have had were along the lines of talking about Andy or asking for the wifi password. I’m only two years younger, but we don’t talk. Maybe if we had, this wouldn’t be so awkward. 

I decided to bite the bullet and send him a message. It’s 8 AM on a Sunday, so I’m not sure if I’ll get a response anytime soon. I put my phone on silent and finish my bowl of soggy cereal. Mum has already left for her job at the daycare down the road, so really I can just lounge around all day.

I check my phone, and my heart drops. No response from Kyle, and it’s been ten minutes. I can lounge around all day, maybe watch some TV, but I can’t. Instead, I shower and dress in a comfy sundress, tying my brown hair into a bun. I start in the kitchen and work my way out until four hours later, the house is clean.

I grab myself a cold glass of pink lemonade and flop onto the couch. It’s only then that I remember Kyle, and I check my phone. My heart skips a beat when I see his text.

***

I hadn’t had a job before, but my mother made sure I was prepared to go to interviews. 

I walk into the glass doors of the tall building, dressed in a slim pencil skirt, a dark pink blouse, and professional but still cute flats. I look the part, if only I could feel it. I swallow around the scream that wants to escape my throat and walk up to the front desk. A lady is seated behind it, maybe a few years older than me. When she sees me, she smiles, and I feel myself break into a sweat. I don’t know if I can do this, work underneath him.

Kyle isn’t the owner of Liceno Hills Paper, but his father is. If I do anything wrong, if I get fired from this job, not only will I burn a bridge with Kyle, but I will with one of the most important people in Liceno Hills. No pressure, right?

“Hi, I’m here for my first day? Hanna Jones.” The words don’t sound right coming from my mouth, and she shoots me a sympathetic smile. So it’s not just me feeling like I’m dropping the ball on this, am I? She writes on a sticky note the floor, and tells me it’s the door at the end of the hall. Kyle’s office, where I’ll meet him and he’ll talk me over my job. Surely being a secretary won’t be too difficult, right?

I fold the note and tuck it in my purse, and thank her. The elevators are on the left, and I hop inside. I press the third floor. I didn’t need the paper, but it’s nice to have anyway. The ride up isn’t long enough to get rid of all my nerves, but it helps to get rid of most. The hall that the elevator door opens on is short and void of any doors besides the one at the end. I frown and think back on the receptionist’s instructions. I hope I don’t look as helpless as I apparently seem, especially in front of Kyle.

I walk down the hall, feeling myself tremble a little, and knock on the thick, oak door. At first, there’s nothing, and I check my watch. 9 AM on the dot, and from Kyle’s messages, even a little after 9 was fine on my first day, in case I had gotten lost. I knock again, and this time, there’s an answer. The door swings open, and in the doorway, dressed in a suit and tie stands Kyle. I’ve only ever seen him in sweats and loose tees, and years ago in a school uniform. Seeing him in a well-fitted suit, with his hair combed back and face clean-shaven, it’s almost impossible not to swoon. I get myself under control and smile up at him.

Be professional, he is helping you out.

“Hi, Hanna.” He steps out of the door and waves me in. His office is large enough for two desks and a few comfortable-looking chairs against the wall, but other than that, it’s bare. Even Kyle’s desk is bare, with only a monitor on top. No picture frame, no bit of personality. I flick my eyes back to my brother’s best friend and feel myself color as I catch his eyes, already staring at me. Being professional is going to be a lot harder than I thought.

I can hardly concentrate on what Kyle, Mr. Johnson, tells me, but I get the gist of it. For today, answer calls, answer emails, and rearrange his work calendar around said emails. Later on, he says as he leans over my shoulder and types something on my new keyboard, I’ll have a hand in the harder stuff. I breathe in his cologne, and dangerous thoughts fill my head.

I turn to him, and he’s so close that I can count the smattering of freckles over his nose. He goes to say something, and I wait for it. He looks away, and then must decide on something else. Standing straight, Kyle moves out of my space and back over to his desk. I miss his warmth, but I’m also thankful that I didn’t make a fool out of myself.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Johnson.” I give him a shaky smile and toy with the edge of my pencil skirt. There’s a moment of silence between us before he nods and sits down.

I blow out a slow sigh and turn to start reading emails.

-

Read the whole short story for free on Amazon.com

[aajjks]

mommy issues!JK

the faster you accept it the quicker you’ll be happy—wise words spoken by none other than your beloved mother, the woman who planned your life from the beginning to the end. if you hadn’t ran away, you would’ve been married by 21 like your sister soo-min and pregnant by 23. it was a future you tried to run away from but it almost seems inevitable; this is your life and no matter how many times you try to run away you’ll always run back to your fate.

as you’re helping your mother slice the onions, you hear the door open and multiple voices—all of them sounding too familiar. “hello honey!! hi ji-cheol!! we’re in here!!” shouts your excited mother but you continue cutting up the vegetables. you soon feel a pair of arms around you and a pair of unfamiliar lips on your cheek. in digust, you move your face away and keep your focus on the onions.

“tch, quit being a bitch and give me a kiss y/n” ji-cheol says as he dives in again for a kiss but you move away again. “y/n” says your father. “give your husband a kiss. don’t give me those puppy eyes, kiss him” this time when ji-cheol kisses your lips, you don’t turn your face but you don’t kiss him back either. “it’s okay. she’s still adjusting” says ji-cheol as he bows to pay respect to your mother.

“it’s good seeing you” says your father as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“hi dad”

“you look different. short hair? when did you cut it”

“when i left i cut it”

“i don’t like it. you look better with longer hair”

“okay”

your father grabs your face in a harsh manner to make you look at him.

“look at me when i’m talking to you. its been so long since we’ve seen you and you’re still a disrespectful, spoiled brat”

“i’m sorry—,”

“heard you were parading yourself around like a whore. thought i raised you better than that? have you no shame?”

“n-no” you cry as the grip your father has on your face is awfully tight. despite his angered tone, he can’t stay mad at his little girl forever. you are human, after all.

“stop crying, y/n” he says as he pulls you in close and presses a kiss to your forehead. “i’m glad you’re safe and sound. soo-min will be here soon. she’ll be so happy to see you”

“o-okay”

you don’t feel comforted in your father’s hold like a daughter should feel but at this point, you just want anyone to hold you. you aren’t sure you’ll make it out again and with jungkook out of the picture, you have nobody to run to. you’re all alone, starting over again.

~🫧

Of course they have taken Nara with them because jungkook could not risk her telling your psycho boyfriend about the fact that they’re on their way to gwangju.

Jungkook and Nara with eunwoo are in one car, and Chris, mingyu and yugyeom are in another following following closely behind on the highway.

They don’t know your exact address, but they will find it no matter what happens with Nara’s help.

As jungkook is driving with eunwoo in the passenger seat, with Nara sitting in the back against her will.

“I can’t wait to reach gwangju.” Jungkook is super focused on driving, “we should be there in an hour or so.”

The truth is they’ve been on their way for almost two hours. “Nara- you will text him for their address or I’ll actually kill you.”

Jungkook glances at the gun sitting on his dashboard.

••••

They’ve finally reached namgu, sadong, Gwangju and they’re still in the car waiting for Nara to send the text.

“come on send a text right now ask him for the address..”

Jungkook taps on the steering wheel of the car- eunwoo rolls his eyes before snatching the phone from her hands and does it himself.

to: ji cheol

where are you

I want to confirm yns whereabouts, send me the address so I can tell jungkook about how she willingly ran away from him with you. He will need proof.

[yonemurishiroku]

All the ways Hades can do to look after his son

I know, I know, Yone you’ve rambled enough about Hades and Nico, yes I’m aware. Too bad I don’t care. It’s not like I haven’t claimed that I’m unhealthily obsessed with this underworld father-son duo.

So here’s how I picture every little thing Hades does to make sure he’s a part of Nico’s life. (Some of them is in my Immortal Nico AU, the rest might or might not. Idk)

- Hades definitely has a sort-of soul-link to Nico and Hazel. A thread. A guiding light. His death radar is top tier ofc because duh? But when it comes to Nico and Hazel, Hades/Pluto has this constantly present connection, by which he can actually zero in on their life forces effortlessly: every fluctuation, every beat, every up and down they make - he can feel them all.

Hades feels them walk the earth, hears Nico swiftly melt in and out of a shadow, knows Hazel just opens a new cave underground - their heartbeats a sweet, sweet tingling melody in his mind.

He’s the first to be alerted when there’s something wrong with their well-being.

He would definitely know if Nico just suddenly mysteriously disappears from the earth.

- Hades doesn’t keep track of where Nico goes to - bc he values personal privacy, thank you - yet when the need arises and with a bit of concentration, he can pinpoint his son’s destination easily enough - provided that there’s no divine intervention.

(And if that happens he flips)

- He greets Nico with a soft ‘Welcome back, son’ every time he visits and a “Well done, Nico” when he returns from a mission/ errand.

- They fight, of course. Children and parents fight all the time, more so when you have… rocky history and both of you are somewhat socially dysfunctional. When it happens, Hades resorts to asking Hestia for help. She’s always happy to share her advices and insights, bless her heart. And although every god has their ego, Hades is willing to be gentle and patient to Nico.

He had been harsh enough on him during all those teenage years.

- Zagreus always takes Nico’s side, btw. Why, you ask? Because I say so.

- He gives Nico black cards (plurals because I can’t let go of Nico di Angelo fanning himself with a set of credit cards like a spoiled little prince he is) with unlimited balance. Hades keeps track of the transactions, though.

Nico doesn’t spend much except for a few Happy Meals here and there. He isn’t the type to go around wasting money for unnecessary luxuries since he lived through the Great Depression. So while Hades doesn’t mind how much Nico spends, he does notice when there’s a suspicious purchase and would check in, just in case.

- Hazel has a few, too. She rarely uses it since she doesn’t go out of New Rome so usually as Nico travels around.

- Hades also gets Nico a mobile phone (it’s canon btw). And a tablet, the same one Thanatos uses. Because you can’t keep track of hundreds of souls by only your mind.

- And thus I say Nico is not tech-inexperienced because he is the first one to actually get his hands on his own electronic devices. He can play a game on his tablet just fine though only in the underworld.

- Weekly calls!!! Actually it’s only Zagreus, just because he’s stubborn, much to Nico’s annoyance. Hades calls monthly for catch up.

They rarely use IM but instead have this special underworld network, which is installed on a Smart TV in the Hades cabin and Nico’s cellphone (don’t ask). So this time a demigod just walks in on Nico reluctantly sighing in front of his TV “Yes Zag, I’d show you around when you come” or “You tell Melinoe to stop then I’ll be there on family dinner”, with either Zagreus of Hades on the wide screen.

- They text. It’s canon (technically).

- In case of urgency and importance, Hades sends a ghost to deliver his messages.

Hence, there’s this frequent scene in which Nico is saying something and abruptly shuts up before turning away, his eyes widen as he stares at the air. Then, after a few seconds, he just nods and waves his hands, “Alright, I’ll be there soon”.

“Sorry, Dad called!” and there he goes.

- His birthday presents get more and more meaningful as years pass and Nico grows up. They’re still weird, though, like this time Nico woke up to a freaking big black ram sniffing his hair - Hades’ equivalent of a puppy. He must have thought Nico’d want one since Cerberus can’t leave the Underworld and Mrs. O’Leary is technically Percy’s.

To others, the ram is indifferent at best and downright hostile at worse, yet is pretty clingy and protective of Nico. She might or might not understand what Nico says so he rambles to her anyway. Her hair is fluffy and warm, he enjoys taking naps with her.

(- Hades makes sure Hazel gets her birthday presents too, despite having to send it through Nico)

- On Maria’s and Bianca’s death anniversary, Hades resurfaces and together, they visit their graves then have lunch in the di Angelo residence. As Nico talks about his newly-gained memories, Hades shares his own reminiscence.

Maria’s grave is located in Italy so they basically jump continents (and an ocean) in one day for their beloved woman and girl of their lives.

- On other special occasions, Persephone takes them out on a low-key family vacation - just because the goddess wants to show off the new flower species she creates and Nico knows she wouldn’t use magic on him as Hades is there and she’s in good mood.

Nico always comes back from those days struggling to hold freaking huge bouquets in his arms, a flower crown resting on his head. His death aura is gone and he smells like… well, flowers. The Demeter cabin laughs at him.

- He makes sure to share Hazel, too. Both the Hades cabin and the Pluto shrine smell and look like flower shops until the following week but Nico dares not to tell Persephone to stop.

- When Nico actually takes it on himself to come back to school, Hades gives him the best tutors he can find amongst the remaining souls. So Nico has 1-on-1 classes in Elysium (bc the palace is too dark and gloomy for studying, and not so ideally for biology) regularly until he finishes the high-school curriculum.

He checks in with the tutors, btw. I mean like how an actual, authentic parent would talk to their children’ teachers. Nico always feels surreal and awkward every time he has to attend those… parent meetings.

- “I wonder which university I should attend…” “What’s there to fret? It’s not like you wouldn’t be able to afford a life if your major turns out to be useless.”

- Pampered-rich-kid-with-his-billionaire-dad energy. Damn I want one too.

- Hades takes his parenting seriously. It’s truth. It’s canon. I refuse to believe otherwise. Argue to the walls.

In conclusion, Hades loves Nico dearly and this is the hill I will die on.

This father-son duo is so wholesome yall every time I think of them I just cry in happiness.

I’d like to add more but the time’s up and my headache is killing me. Please gods bless me with dreams of this sweet, sweet, precious father-son love.

[rafescoke]

Older ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Maybe falling in love with a Maybank wouldn’t be too bad.

Warnings: Mentions of sexual abuse!, alcohol, getting intoxicated, sexual harassment, swearing, sweet Rafe Cameron

A/N: I don’t think this is my best fic, but let me know if I should continue this mini series!! thank you so much for 500+ followers, ily <33

p.s; you know the drill.. send requests!

(Y/N) wondered if a boy like him would ever like a girl like her.

It’s the soft touches against her skin, you see, that got her all worked up at work. She had a bad day at school, getting in a fight with her brother over not washing the dishes piling up in the sink, and there he was;

In his blue plaid shirt, his hair messily parted and that beautiful smile of his. He laughed at something the girl in front of him had said, and (Y/N) felt a pang of hurt across her heart.

“Go. Table 7.”

“What? I’m on my break!” She huffed, picking up her half-eaten sandwich and motioning it to the manager. “I have 10 minutes left.”

“We’re short of staff today,” he grunted, trying to balance the tray and an iPad on both hands. “Please.”

“Do I get more pay this month?”

“I’ll think about it,” he grumbled, and handed her the tray as she wrapped the sandwich again. “Oh, can you tell your brother that he’s fired? He didn’t come for his shift again today.”

“Not my problem,” she mumbled, taking the tray into her hands before proceeding to the diners. Her eyes swept over the many tables, and stopped at the seventh table from the front.

Fuck.

She swallowed her saliva, trying to contain her nervousness as she walked towards the table. She hoped against hope he wouldn’t notice her and continue to talk to whoever she was in front of him, but she wasn’t that lucky.

“Hey,” Rafe said softly, looking up to her. (Y/N) smiled weakly, not wanting to pull any attention towards her and hurried up to serve them.

“Hey, um-” the girl before him stopped her, and (Y/N) turned to look at her with her usual server smile. She hates it. “The pasta’s cold, can I get a new one?”

“Come on, Dee, it’s not that big of a deal,” Rafe said, but (Y/N) tried her hardest to maintain the smile. She couldn’t care less about her pasta, and she wouldn’t even bat an eye if an animal had crawled into her meal.

“I’ll reheat it for you,” she smiled fakely, picking up the plate before walking back towards the kitchen. Her smile completely disappeared when she pushed through the door separating the dining area and the kitchen, and proceeded to the cook.

“Another bitch?”

“Another bitch,” she sighed, and watched as the cook laughed and placed the pasta in the microwave. “You know, John, I really wish I don’t have to work in a restaurant.”

“It gives money, so I ain’t complaining much,” he mumbled, fiddling with the buttons on the stove. “But you’re still so young, mija. Don’t stress yourself too much. Where’s the brother?”

“JJ? I don’t know. He didn’t even come to school today. I wish he’s a better brother.”

“He is,” he shrugged, watching the timer counted down to signal the end of the reheating process. “He’s just ain’t showing it. They’ll appear.”

“What’ll appear?”

“The love.”

(Y/N) laughed, flatting her tray against the metal surface to let the cook placed the reheated pasta. “There’s no such thing as love, John. It’s all made up for little girls to believe.”

“Are you not a little girl?”

(Y/N) smiled, muttered a ‘thank you’ before proceeding to table number 7. She took a deep breath and forced herself to form the most politest smile ever, and placed the pasta in front of the girl, or Dee, or whatever Rafe was calling her.

“Thanks,” she muttered, not looking at her, but (Y/N) couldn’t help but noticed the side glance Rafe had given her during their brief meeting, but she didn’t want to dwell so much on that thought, not when she needed to make an amount of money to help put food for her family.

“You’re back late.”

“Sorry dad, I was working,” she sighed, placing her house keys on the table. “Have you eaten?”

Luke swatted his hands, motioning that he’s content. (Y/N) sighed a breath of relief, not feeling like making him anything and was just asking out of politeness.

“Your pants are a little bit tight today.”

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks and closed her eyes, the sudden wave of fear engulfing her. She bit her lips before turning to her father, “It’s the only pair I have left. The others are still in the laundry bag.”

“Hmm,” Luke hummed, his eyes still intently glued on the television screen. (Y/N) heard the soaring of a football game, and prayed it was his team that had won the match so that he wouldn’t be as cross.

“I’m going to my room, okay?”

“Wait-”

Her chest was heaving heavily now, being so afraid of her own father that she could feel her tears starting to form. She forced a weak smile, “Yeah?”

She didn’t realise how he had gotten up from his previous seat in front of the television, being so caught up with the warnings inside her head. He leaned onto her, smelling her scent, and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“You’re not out with any boys, are you?”

“No,” she whispered, and she gripped onto the hem of her work top. “Dad, can I please go?”

“Why are you so scared?” He continued, his pointer grazing against her ear to her cheeks. “I’m your dad, remember?”

“Dad?”

Luke pulled away from her and walked towards the television again when a certain blonde boy appeared from the front door, his eyebrows furrowed. JJ’s eyes followed his father’s movement, and ended at the sight of his sister.

The tightness in his body softened as he took a step closer to her, “You’re okay?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, wiping the hot tears away from her face and giving him a weak smile. “I’m just going to stay in my room, okay?”

“Okay,” JJ said, watching as she walked slowly towards the back of the house. He glanced at his father, silent as ever, and muttered something under his breath before making his way to his room as well.

JJ Maybank hates Luke Maybank more than anything else in the world, but he also loves him more than anything else in the world. He had wished for nothing else other than his father actually being a father figure for (Y/N), if not him. He could see how much she needed Luke to become some kind of a guardian.

Every time there was a PTA meeting, it had been John to come and see her teachers. John had joked a lot of times before, saying how he’s going to adopt her one day, and when JJ was just 14, he used to get so overprotective of his sister that he would pull a face and gesture some kind of a rude word at him.

But if that's what it takes for her to finally be safe, he’s willing to lose her.

“Hey,” JJ knocked on her door softly, and he waited quietly to hear her shuffle of movements. He waited a few more seconds, and when heard the lock unlocking, forced himself a smile.

“Do you want to go to the bonfire party tonight?” He asked, raising his eyebrows to motion how serious he was. JJ never liked bringing (Y/N) to see the other pogues, and he had tried to assure himself that it was because of how she’s a year younger, but he couldn’t deny the real truth;

(Y/N) knew about his huge crush towards Kie, and the last time she hang out with them resulted into him having to tackle her down before she could say anything to the girl.

“Is Kie not coming or something?” (Y/N) made a face, but JJ could see the happy glint in her eyes.

“Can you drop that topic already?” He sighed, “Are you coming or not?”

“Um-” she glanced at something behind her back, sighed, and nodded slowly. “Okay. I guess I could use some time off schoolwork.”

“Don’t stress too much about school,” JJ shrugged, “You’re still 17.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, “Can you go, now? And oh, you’re fired by the way.”

“They love me, they’ll hire me again,” JJ shrugged, and gave her another comforting smile before making his way back to his room. “You know you can always tal-”

“No, I don’t know,” she groaned playfully, closing the door against his face as JJ laughed. His heart soared, and he swore he would do anything in his will to protect his sister from their father, heartbreak, or whatever.

. . .

“I missed you!” Kie exclaimed, pulling her into a hug and giving her a kiss on her cheeks. “God, you’re taller than me now.”

(Y/N) glanced at her brother, to which he was motioning his thumb against his neck, trying to tell her that he would kill her if she says anything to the girl. (Y/N) laughed, “I missed you too, Kie.”

(Y/N) situated herself beside Pope, watching as he flicked through his Chemistry text book, and scribbled something a note on one of the pages.

“Isotopes has the same number of protons but different number of neutrons,” (Y/N) mumbled, pointing to false knowledge he’ve written. Pope looked at her, amazed, and let out the loudest laugh ever that JJ had to scream from the front for him to shut up.

“Shit, (Y/N),” he continued to laugh, erasing his mistake and jotting down the correct information. “And you’re younger. Do you hear that JJ?”

“What?” JJ yelled back, his eyes focusing on the road.

“Maybe you should be as clever as your sister,” Pope laughed, and Kie gave him a high-five from the front seat. He turned to look at her again, “Where’d you learn that?”

“JJ’s text book.”

Pope laughed, his head shaking at the thought of JJ sleeping while his sister sneaked into his room to steal his text book. He finally understood the reason why he was always in detention for not bringing his book.

“Stay close, and don’t wander away,” JJ warned, staring straight into her eyes. She laughed at his tone, but her smile disappeared when he pulled her again.

“I mean it, (Y/N).”

“Are you seriously turning into dad, now?”

“Don’t mention his name,” he sighed, fixing his hair and walking before him with his friends. “Just stay close, okay?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, already seeing how boring her night was going to be; trying to understand the inside jokes between JJ and his friends, not being allowed to drink any alcohol and is going to be constantly asked to fix her ribbed top so not much of her skin is exposed.

She sighed, following her brother, but as soon as they got further away she felt the need to just hang out, maybe searching for her friends and getting a drink for herself. She was never a fan of alcohol, so JJ really didn’t have to worry about her getting drunk.

“You’re (Y/N), right?”

(Y/N) looked up to a pair of gorgeous green eyes, and she felt her heart sink. She looked away, not expecting her best friend’s boyfriend, and sighed.

“What do you need, Carter? I’m looking for Emily too.”

“Oh, she’s not coming,” he shrugged, standing beside her. She felt the sudden warmth and scooted further, not wanting to allow any attention towards her. “Something about a stomach ache.”

“Why aren’t you resting with her?” She pulled a look, crossing her arms. She didn’t want to talk to him or even look at him, but he didn’t seem to get that note.

“And pass up this year’s bonfire party? Nah,” he sipped on his red cup, and leaned against her. She could feel his lips beside her ear now, “Wanna get a drink?”

“I don’t drink.”

“Come on,” he expressed, throwing his arms up into the air in fake exasperation. “It’s a party. You cannot enjoy a party without being drunk.”

“Hm,” she shrugged, still not interested. She thought about what else she could say to get him away from her. “Worth trying, I guess.”

“You are damn impossible to please, Maybank,” Carter laughed, showing his pearly white teeth. (Y/N) smiled at this, taking the statement into a compliment, and made to walk away. He grabbed her wrist before she could get away, and she sighed in annoyance.

“One drink,” he smiled. “And I’ll leave you alone.”

(Y/N) thought about this, long and hard, and the sudden thought of wanting to be free for once entered her mind. She gave him a small nod.

“One drink.”

“One drink,” he confirmed, and pulled her to the drinks section. (Y/N) waited for him to get her a drink, her eyes swarming over the sea of people dancing, some talking, some already kissing and some just standing. This was her third bonfire party in Obx, and the party didn’t get any boring.

“Here you go,” Carter appeared, placing the red cup into her hands. “Let’s chug it down together. Are you ready? 1, 2, 3!”

(Y/N) scrunched up her face at the strong taste of vodka, feeling her throat burning. It felt good though, especially when you are in need to forget some hesvy things in your mind.

“What do you say?” Carter smiled, “Want more?”

“I’ll try more,” she laughed, giving him the cup as he muttered ‘I told you so’ and came back with another cup. They counted together again, and (Y/N) never felt better after drinking an intoxicating drink.

She didn’t remember why she never liked alcohol, but at that moment, she felt like drinking her money and family issues away. She didn’t even realise when Carter had placed his arms around her, telling her humourless jokes that she laughed at anyways.

“Wanna go to my car?”

“Huh?” She looked at him, half-smiling and half-frowning. She was at her 7th cup now, but being a lightweight person, she felt like she was on her 30th cup. “What for?”

“Driving around town,” he smiled, standing up and offering his hand. “Wanna drive around with me?”

“Just you?” She mumbled, closing her eyes. She could feel his arms around her, trying to help her walk, but she didn’t have enough energy to push him away. If anything, she was glad he had brought her away from the loud music that made her dizzy.

“Where’s the car?” (Y/N) whined, feeling her arms hurting from the rough grip by Carter. She could hear the crunch of twigs under her feet, and when she finally had an ounce of power to see her surroundings, she saw the empty car park near the beach.

“Carter, I don’t feel so good,” she said, trying to push him away. The grip around her tightened, and she had never felt so panicked as she was at that time. She tried to calm down, still looking for anyone who can help her, but the parking lot was deserted.

“Carter, I can walk,” she tried again, but he didn’t let go. She understood the whole situation clearly now, and wished she had stayed with JJ and his friends instead of wandering around by herself.

“Hey, hey, hey.”

Carter stopped walking, cursing while he turned to look at the voice behind him. (Y/N) grunted, feeling her arms bruising, and she couldn’t even glance up to see who it was that saved her. She could feel her eyesight getting darker as she leaned on Carter for some type of balance.

“Where are you going?”

“None of your business,” Carter groaned, still holding her by his side. “Don’t you have anything to do? Like golf, or something.”

“Nah,” the voice replied, and (Y/N) perked up at the way his voice sounded. It was all so familiar to her. . .

“Look, Cameron, just go, okay? I’m not in your business, so stay out of mine,” Carter huffed, walking backwards slowly. “And she’s with me, right, (Y/N), you’re with me?”

“Let her go, man,” Rafe sighed, “I’m making it easy for you. Let her go.”

“Come on, I’m not letting you take her with you,” he shrugged, “Rafe. I swear. You don’t want to mess with me.”

“Aren’t you a little bit too old for her?” Rafe raised a brow, “Aren’t you my age, or something?”

“Fuck!” Carter yelled, and (Y/N) gasped from the sudden pain coursing through her veins at the jerk. “Go and fuck off.”

“You’re not leaving me a choice, man,” Rafe said, and before anyone could process, Carter was down to the ground, yelling at Rafe for him to stop as he kept throwing punches after punches, his forehead creasing and his knuckles ripping.

(Y/N) groaned from the ground, unable to get up, and she swore he had drugged her. She was never this weak, not even when she was sick, and she hated how she couldn’t even lift a finger.

“Don’t fucking touch her again!” Rafe yelled, spitting on the groaning boy as he grunted against the pain, his knuckles all bruised up and bloody.

“Hey, you’re okay?” Rafe asked, helping her to her feet. (Y/N) nodded, still so weak, and wrapped her hands around his arms as he watched her limped.

“You know what? Let me carry you,” he sighed, looking at the previous space where he had had a fight with Carter. He was nowhere to be seen now, and Rafe didn’t think he could fight him off for the second time, not when he’s tired.

“I can walk,” she mumbled, trying to push him off, but even a second after he let her go she tripped onto the road, and grunted at her burning knees. “My knees, oh my god, I’m in so much pain!”

“Let me carry you,” he sighed again, squatting to her level. She looked so sad, pouting her lips and her eyebrows all scrunched down. She shook her head when he tried to hold her, crossing her arms.

“(Y/N), let me carry you.”

“I don’t even know you!” She spat, her eyes glassy and her cheeks red. Rafe didn’t know she would be like this when she was drunk, but he couldn’t deny the amusement he was feeling.

“Of course you know me,” he tried again, slowly wrapping his fingers around her wrist. “It’s Rafe.”

“I don’t know any Rafe.”

“It’s Rafael Cameron,” Rafe rolled his eyes, cringing at the sound of his full name. He never liked the name, saying how it made him look like some type of a knight in 1823, but it was one of the only memories left of his real mother.

“I know a Rafael,” she nodded. “But he don’t look like you.”

“(Y/N), let’s just go before some creep decides to kidnap you,” he pulled her up, to which she obliged at the sound of ‘kidnapping’. “I’ll send you to your house, okay?”

“No!” She pulled him close, hugging him tightly that he was too stunned to react. His arms weren’t even touching her, stopping midway, and he only hugged her back when she cried.

“He’s gonna be mad at me,” she whimpered, tugging on his collar. “And he’s going to beat me up and-”

“Wait, wait, who?” He pulled her off, watching as she looked at him with those eyes again. Rafe furrowed his eyebrows, his chest heaving. “Does JJ do-”

“Not JJ,” she cried, and pulled him towards a random car. “Can I please just stay with you until the next morning? Please.”

“Are you sure?” Rafe looked around, and he thought about Dee who was waiting for him at the party. He shook his head at the thought, not wanting to put her first. “We can stay somewhere else?”

(Y/N) nodded frantically, and Rafe thought about the truth behind all of her words. She was never this miserable, looking all happy when he sees her at the restaurant, taking orders with that goddamn smile and laughing at the unfunny jokes old men would give her just for some tips.

Without him knowing, the restaurant by the bay became one of his top favourite restaurants, but it wasn’t because of the food. Rafe never really liked their steaks, always preferring the one closer to the country club, but he was willing to put aside his cravings for that one certain waitress.

“Okay,” he nodded, leading her to the jeep parked a few cars away. She looked so tired, her hair messily tucked behind her ears, her makeup smudged, and Rafe felt a sudden wave of relief for being there in the parking lot to grab his phone in the car.

The drive was silent, and Rafe even thought that she had gone to sleep. When he looked at her from the corners of his eyes, he was surprised to see her silently staring at the dark view outside, unmoving.

He parked outside of the hotel he usually goes to when he’s in need for some alone time, checking the time on his phone before helping her out. She didn’t say a word to him, keeping her head down, only inching closer when they were on their way up to their room.

(Y/N) never been to a fancy hotel like this, only staying in a small hotel in Spain with her aunt 4 summers ago, so she was quite bewildered when she looked around the room. She bit her lips, staring at the one queen bed, and turned to look at him.

“Are we sharing a bed?”

“Oh, no, we don’t have to,” Rafe quickly said, trying to calm her down. “I think you should sleep it off. I’ll stay on the sofa.”

“Okay, thanks.”

But she couldn’t close her eyes. Every time she tried to sleep it off, she would think about Luke with his hands around her face, forcing her to look up to his eyes and whispering sweet-nothings into her ear. JJ never knew about this, and (Y/N) never wanted to tell him out of fear and disappointment, so she had been keeping the secret for a really long time.

“Rafe?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks for bringing me here.”

“It’s nothing,” he huffed, and (Y/N) heard him shift. The sound of a pillow hitting the floor blared throughout the dark room, and (Y/N) felt bad about letting him sleep on the sofa, especially when he was the one who had brought her to the hotel.

“You can stay in the bed with me.”

“Really? I can’t do that.”

“Why?” She asked, because she really didn’t mind sharing a bed with Rafe Cameron. It wasn’t like she was going to attack him.

“Just because.”

“Is it because you don’t like me?” She asked, and she heard an amused laugh coming from the sofa.

“Trust me, you’re wrong on that one,” he replied simply, and (Y/N) had to think of what he said again.

Wrong?

“Is it because I’m a minor?”

“We’re only 2 years apart.”

“So what’s the problem?” She pressed, because she couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just sleep on the same bed as her. They didn’t have to be all pushed up to each other. . .

“Because,” he sighed, “I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of stuff.”

“Rafe, I don’t understand,” she closed her eyes, her mind woozy from the back and forth fight with the boy.

Rafe sighed again, licking his lips before standing up from the sofa. “Okay, but I’m not a creep, okay?”

“So it is because I’m a minor,” she nodded to herself, and she felt a sudden wave of disappointment. If only she was a year older.

“Whatever,” he breathed, trying to get the best position under the covers. He felt her fingers and quickly pulled his hand away, his heart beating.

“You’re weird.”

“I just said I’m scared,” he shrugged, and finally settled comfortably. He felt so much better now, not having to pull his legs together and crossed his arms just to fit on the sofa.

“What if I do want you to sleep with me on the bed?”

“Shut up,” he groaned.

“No, Rafe, what if I do want you-”

“Shut up before I make you.”

(Y/N)’s eyes went wide, and she thought of the many times she had repeated this exact line in a movie and how she had romanticised her own scenario to that line. She never thought of Rafe Cameron as the protagonist, only imagining Timotheé Chalamet and no one else.

“You’re still drunk, okay?” He suddenly said, and (Y/N) bit her lips at his exasperated tone. “I don’t want to take advantage of you. I’m not Carter.”

“Okay,” she said softly, “I didn’t ask for you to fuck me, though.”

“Really? You’re begging for it right now.”

“I just want you to get comfortable.”

“Hm.”

“You’re full of yourself.”

“Yeah? You should see the eyes you give me at the restaurant,” he replied simply, and he could feel himself thinking of her slightly narrowed eyes, looking straight at him.

He shifted his position, placing a pillow against his front.

“Why didn’t you act on it?”

“Oh god, we’re still on this?” He grunted, “Go to sleep.”

“Why wouldn’t you want to fuck me?”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, and before she could think about anything else to say to him next, he had pulled her shoulders so that she could look at him.

She squinted against the darkness, using the moonlight as a source of light to stare into his beautiful blue orbs.

“I would fuck you, but I won’t do it when you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“You are, because-” he grazed his thumb against her bottom lip, and she had to hold her breath. “You’re not this open to me when you’re sober.”

“Isn’t it more fun, though? To fuck when you’re drunk?”

“I’d only do that if you’re my girlfriend.”

“So can I be your girlfriend?”

“I’ll think about it tomorrow,” he smiled, and pushed her back to face the ceiling. “Now sleep.”

“What if I want to become your girlfriend now?”

“JJ will kill me.”

“Can you kill him back?”

“(Y/N),” Rafe sighed, being so tired of going back and worth with her on this. Of course he wanted to touch her, more than anything else in the world, but he couldn’t do it when she was in a state like this. “Go to sleep.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Good girl.”

“Okay.”

He waited a few more minutes, ready to answer any remarks, but what came after was only her soft snores. He sighed in relief, leaning on his arms as he stared at her. He watched as her chest heaved peacefully, feeling all kinds of emotions at once, and he finally realised the truth;

This time he wasn’t playing; Rafe Cameron would never bring a girl to a fancy hotel for nothing other than sex, but here he was; refusing her teasings, and keeping her safe. It finally hit him; he would bring (Y/N) anywhere if that’s the only way to keep her smile.

He shut his eyes, making a mental note to make fun of her drunk state in the morning.

#Part 2

-

taglist is closed atm! :(

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[la-undercover-latina]

Greek Temper- Biersack Family

Summary: We know Amber Lee-Biersack suffered PPD after having her daughter Addison was born. But what planted the seed in her head that turned her into a gym rat the second her doctor cleared her?

A/N: I used Google Translate for the one Greek word in here.

T/W: Fighting, Cursing, drinking, and body shaming

January 7th, 2017

Black Veil was celebrating Jinxx’s birthday, and this was the first time since Addison was born that Andy and Amber hung out with the guys in a group without their newborn.

“Happy birthday man,” Amber told Jinxx who gave her a smile.

“Thanks Amber. You know it’s become weird to not see you either pregnant or carrying Andy’s little twin,” he joked.

“Are we sure that the first one isn’t still true?” Ashley murmured, but Amber’s sober ears picked up on it. Especially after about six weeks of learning how to listen for any little peep that the newborn made during the night.

“Ashley, what the fuck did you just say about me?” Amber demanded, anger kindling in her hazel eyes. Ashley acted as if he didn’t hear her.

“Kitten, ju-just chill,” Andy told her with a goofy smile. The two of you tried your best to stay away from liquor unless it was a special occasion. But Andy had already had quite a few drinks and after not drinking for so long consistently, his tolerance crashed through the floor.

“Really Andrew?” Amber demanded, turning her anger towards her husband before sending a text to Ella quickly.

‘Hey, I know it’s a lot to ask but can you keep Addison overnight? I’ll tell you later’

“Oh shit,” CC raised his hands, knowing that Amber inherited her father’s temper when provoked. And the fact that she used Andy’s whole name didn’t bode well for the lead singer.

“It’s Jinxx’s birthday. Don’t make a scene baby girl,” Andy tried to calm her down, not realizing she called him by his legal first name.

“You’re gonna let him get away with calling me fat? While my body is still recovering from pushing our big ass baby out of my vagina!” Her voice started to raise and she was suddenly blocked by Jake.

“C’mon. I need to talk to you outside about Addison,” he told her, grabbing her arm gently and pulling her out of the living room and on Jinxx’s patio.

“Don’t you dare try to defend Ashley,” Amber threatened the one of two best friends of her husband’s band.

“I’m not. I actually did want to ask if you needed me to take Addison so you can take a day for yourself,” Jake offered a smile.

“Oh so you want godbaby cuddles, is that it?” Amber joked, relaxing ever so slightly.

“Please, I get cuddles whenever I want. But I read on Reddit that new moms need time to be themselves again to reduce the chance of postpartum depression,” Jake admitted with another shrug.

“Yeah that would be nice. I’ll let you know once this shit storm settles,” Andy had made his way to the patio. Thankfully Jinxx lived on the ground floor.

“H-hey Jake. Can I talk to Amber?” He asked with a hiccup and Jake flashed a look to Amber who gave a tiny nod. Jake left the married couple on the porch to hear CC and Jinxx bitching Ashley out for being a dick.

“Dude, how fucking stupid are you? She just had his big ass baby. If something happens, it’s on you,” CC’s voice turned threatening, which was a rarity for the drummer who was usually happy go lucky.

“If something happens to my best friend or godchild, I’m skinning you alive,” Jake threatened.

“Maybe you should just go chill in the back room dude,” Jinxx told Ashley, after his eyes wandered to a red faced Amber on his porch. It would be best for everyone if Amber didn’t see Ashley.

“Stop coddling her,” Ashley bit back.

“A little constructive criticism never hurt anyone. Maybe it’ll get her back in the gym. She used to have a banging body and now since she got pregnant, she’s not the same,” he shrugged.

“For a guy that gets so much ass on the road, you have no idea how the female human body works. She’s still recovering from her body being stretched and going through actual trauma. It’s gonna take some time for her body to get back to normal,” Jake snapped.

“What the actual fuck Andy! You let him talk about me like that IN FRONT OF YOU! I don’t give a flying fuck if you’re drunk. You obviously know how to speak considering you used to do whole ass shows drunk off your ass. So why can’t you defend me from that kólos?! (Greek for Asshole)” Amber yelled, her tanned cheeks turning an angry red.

Sign #2 that Amber was pissed without having to see her face: she switched to Greek.

“Baby, you’re being,”

“Do NOT say I’m being sensitive. It was clear as day. Jinxx said that it’s weird to not see me pregnant or carrying Addison in my arms and Ashley literally went,” Amber started to imitate Ashley, stupid face and all.

“Are we sure the first one isn’t true?” Her voice and face went back to normal.

“How the fuck am I supposed to take that?!” Amber demanded.

“I mean baby, you are still a little bi-” Andy remarked and Amber never thought she would see the day but she slapped Andy.

But today was the day.

“Don’t you dare come home,” her voice came out venomous as she opened the glass sliding door and grabbed her purse before heading to the street where she was parked.

She called the one person that would understand what she was going through completely.

“Hey Amber, is everything alright?” Her aunt Taylor answered the phone.

“Hi honey!” Heather spoke from her spot next to Taylor.

“Mama, Mama #2 I’m coming over,” Amber tried to keep the tears at bay, but both moms went on high alert.

“What happened baby girl?” Heather asked and Taylor got up to unlock the door.

“Are you guys at Aunt Taylor’s mama?” She asked and Heather sighed, hearing the note in her baby’s voice.

“We’re at Aunt Taylor’s,” Heather responded softly.

“Daddy isn’t there, is he?” Amber asked, knowing how overprotective Tommy was of her, especially since she got pregnant and still since she gave birth.

“No he and Uncle Nikki are at the studio,” Taylor answered. By now, Amber was pulling into the street that would lead her to the Sixx household. Luckily the roads were pretty empty, relatively speaking for Los Angeles. Also, Jinxx didn’t live far from the Sixx’s.

Amber’s car skidded to a stop and she got out of it with her mascara running down her cheeks and she opened the door, hiccups leaving her lips.

“Amber sweetie, what’s wrong?” Taylor asked when she saw the door open and the new mom come in with mascara running down her face.

“Where’s Andy?” Heather asked, taking a peek through the still open door.

“I left his ass at Jinxx’s,”

“C’mon baby,” Taylor steered her away from the door and into the kitchen, Heather hot on her heels.

“Sit down and hug your momma while momma #2 makes you some tea,” Taylor told her while Heather stood next to Amber sitting at the breakfast bar, and held her shoulders while Amber’s head laid on her mother’s shoulder.

“Sweetie,” Heather started before her best friend cut her off.

“Heather, hold off until she gets the tea,” Taylor told her best friend softly while the water boiled and she grabbed the chamomile tea bags.

Amber pulled her phone out of her pocket when she felt it buzz.

A picture of Andy and her holding Addison filled the screen and Amber tossed her phone on the counter.

“The fucking voicemail can take that,” she growled. Once it did go to voicemail, Heather peeked at it to see a text from Ella.

“Baby, Ella said she’ll keep Addison overnight for you. She’ll just need more milk to last her,” Heather started to rub circles into Amber’s back.

“Alright sweetie, some chamomile tea,” Taylor slid the mug of tea to Amber and she got up to give Taylor a bone crushing hug.

“Thanks,”

“It’s completely alright baby,” Taylor told her, before Amber pulled away and sat down taking a sip of tea.

“He let Ashley call me fat,” Amber finally spoke. The dynamic mom duo were just going to wait until she was ready to talk to find out what happened.

“What?” Heather asked, not being able to picture it in her head.

“Ashley needs to be taken out back to find his own switch,” Taylor growled, her own protective nature coming out.

“Not until after I hit him with a car,” Heather added.

“So what happened before that? Last I knew, you guys were celebrating Jinxx’s birthday at his place,” Taylor prodded while Heather continued to rub Amber’s back and ensure she kept drinking the tea.

“We were. Jinxx made a joke how it’s weird that I’m not pregnant or holding Addy. And then,” she took another sip.

“The fucking kólos said that I still looked pregnant,” Tears welled in her hazel eyes and Heather brought her head to her shoulder.

“Baby I’m so sorry,” The moms didn’t have to know any more to put the missing pieces together. Andy didn’t stand up for his wife.

“I’m his fucking wife for the gods sake. Had someone done that in front of daddy or Uncle Nikki, that person would be six feet under,”

“You’re not wrong baby,” Heather continued the circles before looking at Amber’s phone to see another call from Andy.

“Yes?” Heather answered.

“H-hey Heather,” the frontman was shitting bricks, getting sober pretty fucking quick. The fact that Heather answered his wife’s phone meant there was a ticking clock above him before his father in law and Nikki found out. He knew he fucked up when Amber slapped him so hard it just stopped stinging a few minutes ago.

“Put his ass on speaker,” Taylor ordered, ready to deliver a verbal ass whooping.

“Andrew Dennis bless your heart,” Taylor mumbled under her breath, pinching the bridge of her nose before continuing.

“How fucking dare you let that little asshole talk about Amber and not defend her? After all y’all have been through, for you to just stand there with your thumb up your ass,” Taylor demanded, the southern coming out strong. For the most part, she’d lost her accent, but it always came out when she was tipsy, sad, or pissed.

“Heather, Taylor, I’m-”

“We’re not the one you need to apologize to,” Taylor spoke before hanging up.

—-

“Shit,” Andy mumbled, looking at his phone.

“So are you a dead man walking?” CC asked, stepping outside to see Andy pacing and as pale as a ghost.

“Not yet. She’s with Heather and Taylor. When Tommy or Nikki find out about this, I will be,” he spoke.

“Plus they’re right, I should’ve stood up for her. She’s my fucking wife and mother of my child,” Andy ran his hands down his face.

“Yeah you should’ve. Amber shouldn’t have felt the need to leave. I will say though, the little Greek got you good,” CC commented. The red handprint was still vibrant against Andy’s ivory cheek.

“Has the princess not calmed down yet?” Ashley asked, stepping outside and grabbing a smoke.

“Dude, you called a new mom fat. I’m surprised she didn’t go all Tommy Lee on your ass,” CC remarked, before sitting on one of the patio chairs.

“She still probably will the next time she sees him. And if I’m going down, you’re going down with me,” Andy looked at his bassist, not knowing if the love of his life was going to forgive him or not.

“You better hope to God that I don’t lose my wife over this,” Andy growled before grabbing his phone and calling an Uber to Taylor’s. He needed to see her.

—

After twenty minutes, a car pulled in front of the Sixx house and Taylor peeped through the window.

“Aw hell nah! Amber baby, go get me my belt or a hanger from the closet,” Taylor told her before cracking open the door.

“Boy, you better hope you got a tennis bracelet in your pocket for that poor girl,” Taylor spoke as she saw the frontman get out of the Uber.

“Andy, you’re so lucky Tommy and Nikki are at the studio,” Heather told him, coming to stand beside Taylor. It was almost comical. With Andy standing at 6’4 and the moms standing at 5’5 and 5’3, they had to look up at him.

“Please, can I see her?” Andy asked, his voice cracking as tears filled his eyes.

“That depends,” Heather crossed her arms.

“On what?” Andy asked.

“If she wants to see you,” Heather told him. Taylor walked back to the couch where Amber was sat texting Ella about what happened, and how the moms had it covered.

“Baby, Andy’s here and he wants to see you. Your momma and I told him it’s up to you. You can always stay here as long as you’d like if you don’t wanna see him,” Taylor offered.

She would never want any of the kids to feel like they had to stay in a situation where they didn’t feel 1000% loved.

“Yeah, bring him in. But can you and mama sit in the kitchen and listen in?” Amber asked softly.

“Oh that’s what I was planning on doing anyway,” Taylor smiled and kissed the top of her curls before walking over to see Heather still guarding the door and opening it farther so Andy could enter.

“C’mon Heather, let’s give them space,” Taylor said quietly as she steered the fellow mom to the kitchen. The blonde’s face looked outraged until she realized what Taylor had planned.

Andy stepped into the living room to see his wife staring at the ring he put on her finger three years ago and the band he put on her almost two years ago.

“You know, if there was one person I counted on to fight for me, it was you,” The young woman’s voice was calm and still, and Andy knelt in front of her.

“I’m so sorry baby. Please forgive me,” Amber looked up from her ring and saw genuine fat tears in Andy’s oceanic eyes.

She’d seen that look before.

She’d seen it on her father’s face twice.

Once immediately after her mother told him she wanted a divorce and the other when it happened with Pamela.

“I’m not leaving you,” she told him softly. Every fiber of the frontman’s being wanted to pull his wife in for a bone crushing hug, but he knew better.

“I’m not going to leave you. But I’m not going to stand by and let people disrespect me like that and have you just let it slide. That’s bullshit and you know it. I’m kicking Ashley’s ass and there’s nothing any of the guys are gonna be able to do to stop me,” Amber wasn’t afraid to go after a man.

While her father loved her immensely, it also extended to having taught her how to fight if need be.

Plus, when she started developing anger problems, Tommy and Heather signed her up for martial arts classes to try and give her another outlet that would serve a dual purpose and teach her self defense.

So along with her having been taught the Mötley way to fight, she was also taught the discipline of martial arts.

“And if he makes another comment about it, I want him out. I know the guys are getting sick of his shit too. He’s been acting like a Prima Donna since Wretched and Divine. Hell, he didn’t want to do the Bryan interview the night before the record came out because he felt he was too good for it,” Amber finished her rant, not having taken a breath through that rant and now her tanned cheeks were red from no air rather than being upset.

“I promise kitten,” he told her and held out his arms and Amber tossed the blanket to the side, pulling her husband into a tight embrace, her arms wrapping around his neck.

Taglist:

@youlightmeupfinn

@buckysimp101

@kata1803

@hallecarey1

@midsummereve1993l

[kats-baku1999]

Hidden Secrets, Part Two.

wait I can’t believe you guys actually like part one (read that here) I was so insecure about posting it. I’m glad, I’m so glad. Everyone was asking for Bakugo’s suffering so here it is…

READ PART THREE HERE

warnings: I won’t even lie to you all, I have father problems, so this writing hit a little close to home. if in any way you think it’ll hurt or upset you, please don’t read any further okay? mentions of cheating and sex too. also there is some momo slander. I am so sorry.

It was as if the entire world stopped spinning for a second. Kirishima took a step in front of you and Haru, standing chest to chest with Bakugo. Bakugo glared at him, before looking at you. Every ounce of anger you felt towards him began bubbling up. There was so much you wanted to say. So much you wanted to scream at him. You couldn’t yet though, not in front of Haru.

“Kirishima, will you take Haru to your office? I know how excited he has been to see it since the renovation,” You forced a smile, and looked at your son who’s middle brow was creased, which was a for sure sign he was worrying about something, “It’s alright Ru, I will come meet you in there soon,”

“Yeah, come on little monster, I have a huge TV in there now!” Kirishima’s tone did not match the glare on his face, “The conference room is open you two,”

“Thank you Ei, have fun sweetheart,” Haru released himself from you, and let Kirishima take him. He perked his head back over Kirishima’s shoulder and gave you a small wave with his tiny little hand. You forced another smile and waved back, before turning around to face your ex boyfriend. His face was still frozen in shock, as he watched his old best friend walk off with the tiny little human.

“Please tell me what the fuck-”

“Go to the conference room, now.” You snapped and stomped away from him. Bakugo followed after, the boots of his hero costume echoing on the floor of the lobby. He clicked the door behind him as soon as he was in the same room as you.

“So did you just plan on never fucking telling me I had a kid?!” Bakugo yelled, his voice echoing. You turned around and glared at him, “When the fuck did you even find out you were pregnant?”

“Oh, I found out a few days before I found out you were cheating on me,” You laughed dryly, “I was going to tell you that night, but I got a little side tracked,”

“Bullshit absolute bullshit, you should have told me!” Bakugo yelled, not backing down, “Four fucking years! Four!”

“Cut the bullshit Bakugo, I came to your office two weeks before he was born, I ran into Momo and she said you would call me, that night I get a simple text that says you wanted nothing to do with him,” You yelled, jabbing a finger into his chest, “Then you just mysteriously move away with Momo, and no one hears from you, and now you are in Kirishima’s office demanding to know things?!”

“What the fuck are you talk about?! What text?!” Bakugo yelled, grabbing your hand and moving it away from him, “I just found out about the kid today! You still haven’t even confirmed that he was mine?!”

“Take one fucking look at him and tell me he isn’t yours, the only thing that even convinced me he might be from some magical conception is that he is so sensitive and caring!”

“(Y/N) what fucking messages? We haven’t talked since the night you left?” Bakugo’s voice lowered, “I promise you, if I would have known about him I would have, I would have-”

“What? Come back to me? Be with me?” Your voice was monotone and cold, he felt like he was talking to a stranger. A stranger that hates him.

“I mean, yeah maybe, or at least I would’ve been there for his first steps, words, breath, just anything,” Bakugo’s anger was subsiding for the first time in years, “Momo, that day, I know what you’re talking about, because she told me that her and I would never be happy as long as we were here,”

“Oh wow, so the person who you cheated on me with was also a liar, what a shock,” You scoffed, “Sorry, I’m sorry, I heard about her and Todoroki, and their affair,”

Bakugo paused for a second, shocked by your apology. Also by the fact that you even knew. It wasn’t public knowledge yet, considering it just happened two weeks ago. That was the one reason Kirishima was even acknowledging his presence again. He was the one who found them together, and despite his anger towards him, at one point Bakugo was his best friend. So he called him, told him to come to the bar he was at. When Bakugo got there, he found Momo practically on top of Todoroki. A poor, still oblivious, Todoroki who was convinced that Momo had left Bakugo. That she had called off their two year engagement.

“I didn’t realize Kirishima told you, still don’t know how he failed to mention my son-”

“Hey, don’t do that okay? Be mad at me for not trying harder, but don’t be mad at Kirishima, he knew if he would have said anything he wouldn’t have been able to see Haru anymore,” You sat down in one of the chairs, “To be honest, I had just planned on you never finding out,”

“That isn’t fair (Y/n), he is my son.” Bakugo’s tone of voice was frustrated and angry. He didn’t want to be mad at you, he knew he couldn’t be mad at you.

“No, he is my son, mine, I’ve done everything, I was there for all of the bruises and scratches, for when he got into my hair gel to try and make himself look like Kirishima, for his birthdays and Christmases, you weren’t there,” You snapped, “Sharing his genetics does not make him your son,”

“No but you don’t get to hold this shit against me, it wasn’t my fault,” Bakugo fired back.

“You’re the one who fucked her,” You sneered. Standing up again, running your hand through your hair, “You cheated on me with her, you chose her over me, you don’t get to be the victim here either, I don’t even get to be the victim, the only person who deserves to even act like the victim is my son,”

“I’m here now, I know now, and I want nothing more but than to get to know him,” Bakugo looked at you with pleading eyes, “To be apart of his life, of your life,”

“I don’t know, I can’t just tell him that you’re his dad, he has been asking for the past year, and he has so much more going on already,” You laughed, “He doesn’t have his quirk yet, it’s becoming evident that he might not ever have his quirk, so how do I tell him that his dad is the number one hero, and a person he idolizes?”

“So you’ve faulted me because my ex fiancé was a psychopath who didn’t think I needed to know about my son, and now because I’m the number one hero- wait, he doesn’t have his quirk?”

“No, no he doesn’t, that’s why we are in town, for Denki and Hitoshi’s wedding, and to see a doctor,” You explained, the tears finally spilling over, “I can’t just dump this on him too Bakugo, please, you have to understand,”

“I do, okay I do, but please I can’t just let you walk away today with him and not do anything, I have to know him, but I don’t want to make this a problem bigger than it needs to be,” Bakugo grabbed your shoulders, “Please don’t make me villain here, okay I don’t want to be,”

“As much as I want to, I can’t, I know I can’t it wouldn’t be fair to him,” You grabbed his hands off your shoulders and held them for a second, a small sob threatening to escape your throat, “But please don’t take him from me, he’s all I have,”

Bakugo stopped and tightened his grip on your hands. Forcing you to look up at him. His eyebrows were creased, furrowed up exactly like Haru’s always did. The same look of concern Haru’s always had on his face when you said something close to sad.

“I wouldn’t think about taking him away, so get that shitty ass thought out of your head right now,” Bakugo sighed, “He doesn’t even have to know I’m his father right now, not until your ready, but I would like to be your friend, your friend that comes around him, your friend that he gets to know like he knows Kirishima,”

“Okay, okay,” You mumbled, nodding your head, “You can pick us up and take us to his doctor’s appointment, then we can all go out with Kirishima after so he feels more comfortable, we can start there,”

“Okay, let’s start there,” Bakugo let go of your hands slowly, “Does he you know like anything?”

“Yes, Bakugo he likes things, heroes specifically, are you going to blow up this office if I say Deku is his favorite?” You wiped the tears off your face, and finally bust out laughing at Bakugo’s groan that followed, “I’m going to grab Haru, I’ll have Kirishima send you my number okay?”

“Okay, thank you, let me know about the doctors thing.”

You gave him a small nod and walked out of the room. Stopping the bathroom to rinse off the tears. When you opened up the door to Kirishima’s office, you found Haru staring at the large tv completely awe struck by the footage of Midoriya fighting alongside Bakugo. One of their earlier fights, they were just barely pros. You remembered it because that was when he and Shinso agreed to work together. That was the fight that introduced you to him.

— a few days later

“Momma, you’re doing your upset walk,” Haru whispered, as if he was telling some kind of secret. Shinso snorted into his coffee, and earned him self a dirty look from you.

“Your mother is just nervous over seeing her friend small human,” Shinso called you out, and earned another dirty look.

“Momma is friends with Dynamight, Uncle Toshi! She has even met Deku!” Haru’s eyes were sparkling as he said it, waving around his Deku plushie.

“You know, I’ve worked with Deku before, almost beat him-”

“In the sports festival, yes Uncle Toshi we knowwww,” Haru groaned, having heard the story at least fifty time. It was your turn to laugh. Haru loved Shinso, but when it came to his favorite heroes, being ranked under his own fiancé was a bit of a sting.. So poor Shinso tries to impress the kid every chance he can.

“You’ve told him the story at least ten times,” You backed up your son, shrugging your shoulders.

“You know, I was in the room when you came into this world little man, I deserve some props as a hero,” Shinso groaned, and Haru just laughed, taking another bite of his cereal.

“I know, but you’re a hero like you know a dad would be,” Haru said casually and both of you froze. He was trying so desperately to figure out what it meant to have a Dad. The last time Kirishima came to visit, he had even asked him if he was his dad because of their red eyes, and how Kirishima is always there for his big moments. Then he asked you if Shinso was his dad, because they both liked cats.

“Haru, our ride is here, we better go outside okay?” You smiled, changing the subject, “Give Toshi a hug!”

Haru jumped down and gave Shinso a quick hug. You grabbed your things, and your files about Haru’s past doctor’s appointments. After he grabbed his backpack you walked over and kissed Shinso’s cheeks, mouthing a quick apology. He waved you off.

“Let me know how it goes,” He smiled, and you knew he wasn’t just talking about the doctors appointment.

You picked up Haru and carried him outside. Bakugo waved at you both, and Haru hid his face again. Although he was excited to get to meet one of his heroes, he was also terrified. Bakugo pouted a little bit, and you gave him a small glare. He straightened up and forced a smile.

“I just need to grab his seat!” You forced a smile, trying to avoid how awkward this was. Bakugo shook his head.

“Nope, I bought one, it’s got all the things,” Bakugo sounded proud of himself, you raised an eyebrow but walked towards his car. He opened the door and you saw a seat, one of the ones with a cup holder, and in it was a collectible Deku doll that Haru had wanted for months. Along with a signed picture of him.

“Haru, look,” You whispered, making sure to tell Bakugo later that he can’t just buy his love. Haru’s face lit up though, and he quickly jumped down out of your arms. He grabbed the doll and picture, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Thank you Mr. Dynamight sir!” Haru grinned, before climbing in his seat so you could buckle him in. Bakugo stood behind you, and you could practically feel the grin radiating off of him.

“Call me Katsuki kid, all of my friends do,” Bakugo smiled, and got in the drivers seat. You walked over to the other side, and climbed into the passenger seat.

The ride was quiet, just the sounds of Haru playing with his new toy in the background. Neither you or Bakugo knew what to say to one another. So you just sat in comfortable silence, looking through Haru’s main doctor’s notes. Then Haru needed to blow his nose, and out of habit you opened up the glove box to grab a tissue as if you were in your own car. Inside it though you found Bakugo’s necklace that had matched yours, that you gave back to him when you left. You grabbed a tissue and handed it back to Haru.

“Yours is hanging up on the rearview mirror of my other car,” Bakugo mumbled, his eyes not leaving the road. You studied the side of his face, just nodding in response. It was odd that after all of this time he still had that dumb thing. You two had gotten them on your fourth time of hanging out, he had found them at a festival he made some appearance at. They were cheap, but you both wore them all of the time. The necklaces meant something to both of you, the day you took yours off was the day you knew it was over.

The rest of the ride felt tense. You felt silly over thinking the necklace. You figured he would have thrown them away at this point. When you finally got to the hospital, Bakugo went and found a parking spot. He went to walk in with you two but you shook your head.

“I’m not ready for the rumors to start surrounding Haru, so would you mind just hanging out here?” You whispered.

“Oh, yeah no you’re right, I’ll be here,” Bakugo nodded his head, looking a little disappointed. You climbed out of the car and grabbed Haru, who waved a tiny hand at Bakugo as the two of you walked towards the entrance.

You weren’t in the waiting room for long till you were called into the exam room. They did a few X-rays, and tests, on Haru. Then after about an hour you were sitting in the Doctor’s office as Haru played with his toys on the floor. The doctor say down across from you and showed you all of the test results.

“Well the good news is, Haru will most definitely have a quirk, his body is already adjusted to what his quirk would be,” The doctor smiled, “I’m guessing his father’s quirk has something to do with nitroglycerin?”

“Uh well we don’t actually know much about his father,” You lied, knowing Haru was paying attention now.

“Well Haru has high levels of it in his sweat glands according to the tests, but my only concern is that I think he has some kind of mental block keeping him from using his quirk,” The doctor explained, “You’re quirkless correct?”

“Uh yes sir, I am,” You nodded your head. Haru walked over to you and grabbed your hand. So you put him in your lap.

“Maybe he just won’t use his quirk because he doesn’t want to be different from you, since you are his sole provider,”

“No that’s not it,” Haru interrupted and you both looked at him, “It’s not Mommy’s fault, I just want to use my quirk when Dad comes back for us,”

You felt your heart break into a million pieces.

“Haru sweetie, have you known about your quirk?” You whispered, and he nodded his head sadly.

“I accidentally blew up Mira’s doll at the playground, but made her promise to not tell her parents so you wouldn’t know,” Haru hung his head, and avoided eye contact. Like he did whenever he thought he was going to be in trouble.

“Haru you could’ve told me, then we wouldn’t have had to do all these tests, why didn’t you-”

“I just wanted dad to be the one to help me,” Haru cut you off again, his eyes watering. You let out a sigh and pulled him closer to you. The doctor nodded his head, smiling softly at you.

The two of you walked out to the car again. Bakugo’s head perked up at the sight of you both. He jumped out of the car and opened the door for you to put Haru in. Bakugo raised an eyebrow at the sad look on his face, and then looked at you.

“Tell me he has his quirk? Or at least a hope of one?” Bakugo asked, and you closed Haru’s door. Glaring at Bakugo, before walking over to your door. You climbed in the car and didn’t say a word until you got the park where Kirishima was meeting you guys.

“Hey, Haru why don’t you go with Uncle Ei and play while I talk to Katsuki?” You smiled at Haru, who climbed out of his seat and went to Kirishima who had opened the door for him. Kirishima closed the door and walked away with Haru. Bakugo looked towards you with a raised eyebrow.

“Why did you do it?” You whispered and Bakugo just looked even more confused, “Why did you fuck all of this up?”

“What do you mean?” Bakugo’s tone was proof enough that he was annoyed. Not necessarily at you, but more so at the fact he could see Kirishima playing with his son so effortlessly.

“Cheat on me, leave me alone to raise him, leave him confused and upset because all he wanted was his dad,” Your eyes started water, tears threatening to spill over. Bakugo turned his head back towards you, your words stinging a little bit.

“I didn’t leave you alone, I didn’t know.” His voice was stern, “You can’t make me out to be the dead beat father in this situation (Y/n) I would have been there for him if I would have known he was alive,”

You let out a sigh of defeat, making eye contact with him. Bakugo felt his heart break at the look in your eyes. You looked.. Defeated.

“I know, I know it’s my fault okay?” You whispered, “I should have never kept him from you, I should have told you I was pregnant but I was selfish, and hurt, and-”

You were sobbing now. Your words falling off. Bakugo unbuckled your seat belt, and pulled you over the center console so you were sitting on him. He hugged you, tightly. Letting you let out every single sob, as he rubbed your back. You cling onto his shirt as you buried your face in his shoulder.

“I know why you were mad, and I don’t blame you but (Y/n), I would have been there for you both if I would have know,” He whispered against you, you pulled your head back and looked at him.

“I know, and I’m sorry, I still hate what you did to me, to our relationship, but Haru deserves to know his father,” You sighed, Bakugo reached up and wiped some of the stray make up on your face.

“So we’ll tell him?” He smiled hopefully, and you nodded.

“Eventually, eventually we will tell him, but for now I just want you to get to know him, ease him into it,” His smile faded a little but he knew you were right.

Bakugo stared at you and it settled in for him that it was never Momo. It was never once her for him, it was you. Back then, he was too scared to let himself admit it. Despite how long you two had been together when his affair with Momo started, he was scared. Scared of how much he could love a single person. Then he felt guilty because he had no reason to have that fear. He grew up watching his parents have that kind of love. It was his own selfish mindset that pushed him to that decision.. That pushed him to losing you.

You crawled back into your seat, flipping the visor down. Bakugo watched as you wiped the make up off your face. You turned back to look at him, smiling a little.

"I have a proposition for you, if you want to spend more time with him?" Your voice sounded a little nervous, and Bakugo grinned a little nodding his head, "Go to the wedding with us to the wedding? I mean you and Denki were friends right?"

"Are you sure? I mean I know how all of them must feel about me?" Bakugo laughed a little, and you shook your head looking back at Haru and Kirishima.

"They all love Ru, so much, so I think they will understand why I want you there, and besides Hitoshi does nothing but tell me to get back in the dating game," You rolled your eyes, and Bakugo laughed at you a little bit.

"How long has it been since you've been on a date if Dead Eyes is making jokes about it?" Bakugo was half teasing, and half curious what the answer was.

"Oh don't you start asshole, I have been raising our kid," You laughed, a genuine laugh. A laugh that made Bakugo's heart do some kind of internal flip. He smiled softly at you.

"You said our kid," He whispered, and you blushed a little.

"Our kid who is staring in here trying to figure out what's wrong," You laughed, pointing towards Haru who now had an adorable pout on his face. You climbed out of the car and ran towards him, picking him up and spinning him all crazy like. Bakugo smiled as he watched you two together. Realizing that all he ever wanted in life was right here, and in his reach again.

--------------------------------------

tagging all of the people who replied to hidden secrets part one <3

there is going to be a part three, and i promise for everyone who asked for bakugo suffering.. it is coming because i am feeling evil >:]

@girl-who-likes-cold-bois , @leximoron , @shyonigirichan , @tspice283 , @heyomie , @beigeunburdened , @xoxo-teddybear , @silentw-lkr , @semhal , @justmewoo , @jazzylove , @nolimitsam , @da1chisjuicywatermelons , @ayoooooooooooo

[neopuppy]

Dive Into You: Part 2. (M)

Preview: “You’re not seriously just fucking with her to get back at me are you? It’s not like everyones talking about you being dads problem child here.” Jeno’s arms fold over his chest. Bicep muscles straining under tight sleeves.

“Shouldn’t you be happy? I’m allowing you to spend alone time with your church girl. You should be thanking me nono.”

Pairing: brothers Jeno/Haechan x female reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Genre: pwp, church boys AU, smut, love triangle, brothers nohyuck

Warning: daddy issues, sacrilegious themes, explicit language, master manipulator Haechan, innocent Jeno, virgin reader, corruption, bible quotes

Smut Warning: oral(F receiving), slight sensory deprivation, fingering, all in church.

Intro—>

Part 1–>

“I told the new family in town that you’d be showing their daughter around boys. I expect you to be on your best behavior.” Pastor Lee slaps a hand over Jeno’s shoulder with a firm grip. “No funny business.”

“You got it, father. You know, like because you’re a pastor.” Haechan snorts, pouring hot steaming coffee into a ceramic mug.

“Ha ha ha, you’re hilarious. Make sure your brother acts right. People around town are already talking enough about my atrocious parenting skills. Word travels fast in these small towns you know.” Pastor Lee adjusts his tie in the mirror. Stepping out of the front door with not even a wave goodbye. Jeno left rubbing at his shoulder with irritation.

“What time do you want to head out?” He questions, eyes burning into Haechans back.

“Oh, I can’t do that ‘show the new townies’ around thing today. Got a brunch date in the next town over with someones mom.” Haechan turns, leaned back along the kitchen counter blowing steam from his coffee.

“What?? She’s your girlfriend now. Aren’t you supposed to hang out with her tonight?” Jeno’s eyes widen befuddled. More in disbelief his brother would be two timing you, familiar with his antics.

“Your point?” Haechan scoffs, checking messages through his phone. Petty smirk on his lips sending you a ‘miss you’ text.

“You’re a dog. You’re not seriously just fucking with her to get back at me are you? It’s not like everyones talking about you being dads problem child here.” Jeno’s arms fold over his chest. Bicep muscles straining under tight sleeves.

“Shouldn’t you be happy? I’m allowing you to spend alone time with your church girl. Should be thanking me nono.”

“Dick..” Jeno mutters, grabbing his bag to head out. Not wanting to spend another minute around his brother.

“Wait a minute..” Haechan grabs a hold on Jeno’s arm, pulling him back into the kitchen. “Take good care of my girl today yea?” Jeno’s eyes squint as his brother sneaks a $20 bill into his side jacket pocket.

“Maybe get her a milk shake or something. Whatever it is you kids drink. We’re not really going on a date tonight if you know what I mean.” Haechans eyes shift around mischievously. Knowing damn well Jeno knows. Knowing exactly what to say to get under his skin.

Jeno grips at Haechans collar, huffing against his face. Anger seething through fingertips aching to bring his brother physical pain. Jaw tightening, resisting the deep urge inside building for years everyday.

“Gonna give me a black eye nono? What will father think when he finds out his bad seed is also abusive?” Lips curling with a slick grin. Haechan the expert on how to push Jeno’s buttons. Worked on himself well to get exactly what he wants.

“That’s what you want isn’t it?” Jeno clenches the fabric between his fist, arms shaking with rage. “You’re the perfect one, I’m the fuck up. You’re the one dad brags about, I’m the one he pretends doesn’t exist.”

“You think your daddy issues would get your little church girl turned on? Should I tell her how you cry yourself to sleep wishing you were me?” Haechan snorts, loosening from of Jeno’s grip. Hands smoothing out his freshly ironed shirt.

“I’ve never wanted to be anything like you. You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

“That’s not true nono..” Haechan pulls on a jacket. Fingers twirling around keys. “You know how much I love my car” with a cocky wink matching a shit eating grin Haechan heads out. Leaving Jeno festering in his anger. Fists slamming against the counter. Back tense with underlying hatred, hatred for himself. Tired of how easily Haechan manages to provoke him.

——————————————————————————

Jeno’s nervous, pissed off, feeling anxious. Pacing back and forth in front of your house. He didn’t have much of a choice with the looming threat of getting shipped back off to Jesus camp hovering his mind. The idea to ditch this whole ordeal passing his thoughts more than once. It’s not that he liked you, but it’s also not necessarily that he didn’t like you. Convincing himself he just hasn’t gotten any for too long now. Dick probably desperate for anything at this point. Nothing related to how cute you looked with your lips all swollen after kissing him. Jacking off at home that night reliving the events long forgotten.

Forget about stroking himself off in the shower the next morning again. Or the other five more times since. No he didn’t like you, not really..

“Aren’t you one of Pastor Lee’s sons??” And older woman carrying bags of groceries approaches. Lipstick covering her two front teeth, over sized dress hanging from her body.

“Oh uh.. yes I am. I’m supposed to.. show your.. daughter? Around today..” Jeno stutters out, mentally slapping himself.

“Oh..” the woman adjusts a bag in her hold, throat clearing. “What about that lovely brother of yours? What’s his name again?”

“Haechan..” Jeno’s eyes shift, looking away. How did his brother manage to convince everyone he was such an angel. A modern day fallen angel, roaming earth in disguise.

“Ah that’s it..” she makes a sound of disapproval, bag dropping on the porch. “A polite young boy would have offered assistance.” Voice lowly whispering as she unlocks the front door. Jeno’s eyes darting between the groceries and woman, cursing himself yet again for coming off exactly how everyone says.

“I’ll call her down.” She steps inside. Loud shouting vocals calling out your name. The sound of foot steps against stairs following. Your figure appearing, dressed up to impress. Jeno’s throat itching, swallowing, adjusting his collar.

“That’s not your bike- is it?!” Your mothers shrieking voice questions. Eyes bulging out, taking in the sleek black motorcycle off the sidewalk.

“I’m here!” Your smile falls, only spotting one brother waiting for you outside. Not the one you’d expect even. You subtly give a look around, searching for someone else maybe hiding in surprise. Jeno unfortunately does not fail to notice.

“That is my bike Ma’m.. it’s safe. I promise.” He holds up two helmets. Craving to crawl into a hole under your moms scrutinizing gaze.

“I’m not so sure about this..” she mumbles. Eyes glaring into Jeno, trying to put the fear of God...fear of a strict crazy mother, in him.

“It’ll be fine mom! He has a helmet! I’ve been on a motorcycle with dad before!” You lean up, pecking your mothers cheek. Summer dress twirling up with air as you run forward. Jeno catching a glimpse of your underwear. Shifting a helmet over his groin momentarily.

“I thought Haechan was coming too?” You asks, taking the helmet held out for you. Typically being his brothers helmet, little did you know.

“He’s busy.. errands out of town or something.” Jeno mumbles, avoiding your eyes. He’s being weird, but then again you didn’t know him well enough to confirm he wasn’t always this way.

“Oh.. well I guess I’ll see him later anyway.” You frown, tugging at the light fabric of your dress. What a waste. “You ride a motorcycle?”

“Yea.. I don’t have a car so.. you’ve been on one before you said?” Jeno’s brows furrow. Eyes trained on your feet, teeth digging into his lower lip. You had to wear cute strappy sandals with a summer dress. That just made sense, to show off your cute freshly painted toes..Jeno’s brain feels like its turning in his skull. Lips begging for mercy to let out a scream.

“I actually haven’t. Just said that to make my mom shut up.” You lean in close. Lips grazing his earlobe as you whisper. Words muffled, Jeno blinking slowly. Perfume wafting around his head, as if this could get any worse.

“Uh..” Jeno steps away abruptly. “Put that on!” His voice awkwardly shouts to you, chin jerking toward the helmet in your hands. Head shaking, pulling on his own. Straddling around the bike seat, engine coming to life.

“Am I supposed to hold on to you?” You stand to Jeno’s side. Admiring the shining black bike, fitting for his character. At least physically.

“I..” Jeno’s breath catches under his helmet shield. Only now realizing you’ll be riding with him around today. Legs parted on him.. arms squeezing his abdomen.

“Jeno??..” you pull on your helmet with confusion. He wasn’t much for words it seemed. So opposite of his brother.

“Uh.. yea.. just hold on to me..” he sighs to himself. Sounding more displeased than intended. Uncomfortable awkwardness travels through you watching his shoulders slump. With reluctance, you lift your leg. Straddling Jeno’s back, bad day to wear a short dress..

“This is kind of..” your lips purse together, center a little too close to Jeno’s body. More than close, right on him. Cotton airy smell coming off his black jean jacket. Scent fresh and clean, hair lingering of lightly scented shampoo. His broad shoulders covering majority of your view.

“You should.. hold on tight.” Jeno licks his cracking lips. Foot kicking up the bikes lock. With another look toward your mom motioning the sign of the cross. You lean your body forward, chest pressed up on Jeno’s wide back. Arms circling around his small waist.

Jeno’s own thoughts rolling in like rapid fire. Throat squeezing in, heat between your bodies pressed together moving between his legs. Trying to focus on anything, anything but your breasts pressing into him. Anything besides your smooth thighs around him. The memory of kissing you too vividly choosing to repeat itself.

“God be with you!” Your mothers voice screams out. Bike engine too loud as Jeno rides off. Your dress blowing behind you, smile covering your face. Chin on his shoulder, admiring the view of your new home.

Could only be an even more perfect moment if it was Haechan you were wrapped around..

——————————————————————————

“That’s it? A diner? That’s the tour of the town?” You twirl around the cherry sat atop melting whipped cream. Chocolate shake looking unblended and less than appetizing.

“There really isn’t much to do here..” Jeno mumbles, chin tucked into his chest. Basket of half eaten fries more interesting than you apparently.

“I could have told you that..” you murmur in response. Sitting back in the booth with boredom. Jeno does the same, brows furrowing in thought. A minute or five of silence passing. He grunts lowly, pulling his phone out.

“Look at you two!” Mark jogs over sporting a huge smile stretched across his cheeks. Red and white striped apron covering what looks like an all white uniform.

“You work here?!” You sit up, eyeing the uniform. Almost too fitting, a too old altar boy working part time at a cheap fifties diner.

“Well of course, phone bills don’t pay themselves! Timothy 6:10 For the love of money, is the root of all kinds of evil!” Mark proclaims, finger waggling about like a mad man. Your lips pulling back over your teeth in...displeasure.

“Right..”

“Fucking shit” Jeno groans, kicking at a foot under the table. Tsking as thumbs slam down at his phone screen.

“Ah Jeno! Proverbs 21:23! Whoever keeps his mouth and his tongue keeps himself out of trouble!” Mark places hands on his hips. Lips pursed together with disappointment.

“Yea..sorry Jesus. Whatever.” Jeno mumbles again, eyes not moving from his phone.

“Gamers right” Mark shakes his head your way. Eyes lighting up, taking your own phone out.

“What do you play??” you scoot in closer to Jeno. Closing the space between the two of you in the booth. His shoulders stiffen, curling in hunched over the table.

“Kartrider..” Jeno barely whispers. Catching enough of it, familiar with the game.

“I play too! Oh! I bet I have a better rank than you!” Laughing unlocking your phone, swiping the game open. “Look at my character, she’s so cute!”

“There’s no way you’re better than me....I’m always top ranking in this county..” Jeno’s eyes widen. Forgetting about his current race, watching you hold up your phone with laughter.

“Come on, let’s race. I’m gonna kick your ass!” You lean in closer, reading out Jeno’s ID as you enter it in. “Add me!”

“Language!” Mark sighs, head shaking with both of you. “God’s children have truly fallen. After everything the lord has done for us.”

“Come on Jeno! Play me! I’ll go easy on you” nudging at his side with a wink. Your smile grows, finally something you can do together. Jeno dragging you around downtown past rusty antique shops. The only thing that caught your interest a quant little family owned bookstore. Learning fast he wasn’t much for conversation. Face appearing pained and uninterested with every word from you.

“Don’t feel like playing anymore..” Jeno shuts his phone, screen turning black.

“What?! Aw come on. Can’t stand the thought of a girl beating you?” Jeno leans back, eyes taking in your face slowly. All he cared about was winning, competing in stupid games just to achieve a high ranking. You’d win of course, he’d never let you lose.

“Just don’t feel like playing anymore.”

——————————————————————————-

“Thanks for showing me around, the one street you took me to.” Your voice drips with sarcasm. Hopping off the back of Jeno’s bike. He removes his own helmet, hair flopping around messily. “Was fun I guess.”

“Yea well” Jeno holds out his hand for the helmet you borrowed. You hold it under your arm, brow quirking in confusion. Your hand slowly lifting, placing in his. Jeno’s eyes widen, staring at your hands held together. Too many feelings rushing at him all at once.

“Helmet!” Jeno shouts abruptly, hand flying away from yours like you’re too disgusting to touch.

“Geeze, fine. Sorry...” you place the helmet on the back end of Jeno’s bike. Turning away, without even a goodbye. He grabs your elbow, your foot stopping mid-air.

“You..” head turning, staring down where he holds you.

“Yes?” You implore him to continue. Jeno’s hand dropping from you when you fully turn to face him again.

“You.. you really like my brother..?” Jeno’s eyes fall to the ground. Thick dark eyelashes shadowing across his cheeks.

“Yea of course. Is that what this is about Jeno? I really do like him, I would never use someone.” You smile, bouncing back on your heels. Jeno’s lips suck in with frustration.

“Wish I could say the same about him.” Jeno mumbles, turning his engine back on.

“What was that?” Voice raising, trying to speak above the loud roar from the motorcycle. Jeno flicks down his helmet shield, speeding off. Cloud of dust surrounding you. Smacking at the air coughing out, bike disappearing behind dusts.

“Fucking jerk.”

—————————————————————————-

“Haechan! Where are we going? The church?!” Your shoes lift up dust. Arm in his hold pulling you toward the small old building.

“Where else would we go baby? Can’t go to my place, the holy spirit’s home.” Haechan laughs, pulling a lanyard from his back pocket. “Besides, this is my dads church you know right? It’s like my property too, we’re safe here under God’s watchful eye.”

“Isn’t this.. I don’t know. Sacrilegious?!” You anxiously follow him inside. Haechans easy smile comforting you, arms wrapping around your waist. He steps back down the center aisle. Pews displayed at your sides, Haechan leading you one in front. He pulls you to the center of the pew, sitting with hands on your hips.

“This feels..” you start, chest rising and falling faster as guilt passes through you.

“Wrong? God didn’t make us this way..” his hand smooths down your bare thigh. Passing the fresh new dress just for your date tonight. Fingers skirting between your thighs, one playing at a side covering your mound. “..for us to not touch and explore..”

“It’s just..” your hands grip at the front of the pew behind you. Where you’d normally kneel to pray..

“Just?..” Haechans eyes gaze up at you. Pure sin and danger hidden in the face of an angel. Tongue sliding up your other thigh. “You’re so sweet.”

You sigh in defeat, legs quivering, upper body doing the work to hold you up. His head dipping under your dress, nose pressing into your slit. Cotton from your panties shoving between you. Soft moans sounding from underneath, Haechans tongue licking at your underwear. Enough to properly soak them up, allowing drool to freely fall from his mouth. You gnaw at your lip, gathering up your dress fabric in one hand. Admiring the way the beautiful boy between your legs eats you up.

Haechan lets out a dreamy sigh. Long fingers stroking up and down your thighs. Teeth biting your at core with cloth between. Your stomach folds in, curling closer to where he sits below you. Fingers wrapping around the sides of your panties, tongue lapping at your inner thighs.

“Body of a virgin can heal more sins than body of christ you know..” underwear at your knees. Haechan leans back in, lips wrapping around your clit. Tongue swirling around, suctioning between. Your other hand lifting to your mouth, biting down on your thumb. Muffled moans and whines echoing around the church walls.

Haechans eyes stay on your face, tongue rolling your clit around. Hands squeezing your inner thighs, pulling back, clapping down slaps. Your hips jolting forward with suppressed cries. Everything about him was absolutely depraved. Looks deceiving from the boy your mother had always warned you about.

“Don’t hide your pretty sounds baby.” Haechan pulls away. Lips shining, coated in your wetness. Glares from the colored glass reflecting off his skin. Red tinted eyes sparkling up at you. Haechan reaches for your wrist, yanking your hand out from your mouth. His lips part open, tongue swirling around your entrance. Sucking up the wetness gathering around.

“Oh God!” You shout out, neck loosely dropping back. Tears on the brink of escaping the corners of your eyes.

“That’s it baby. You pray to me now.” Haechan groans, mouth closing over your entire mound. Eyes rolling back into his head, swiping up and down your core. Hands finding his hair, fingers digging into his scalp. Haechans tongue thrusts into your tight entrance, muscle working extra hard to enter.

“Oh my God!” Body shaking, ass digging into the pew. Hips twitching forward, grinding against Haechans face. Chin covered in your wetness, tongue wiggling inside you. Fingers finding way to your clit, pinching and rolling the bud. “Oh my God!!”

Haechan groans inside you, scalp in pain from your pulling. Cock hardening in his jeans, taste of innocence in his mouth nearly orgasmic. You taste too fucking good, nothing like that used up whore from earlier..

“I-I c-can’t!” Haechans fingers work at your clit. Rapidly sweeping back and forth. Tongue sliding out, jaw hung open. Eyes return to your face, smile breaking out over his cheeks.

“You can.” He pants, tongue hung out lazily lapping at your hole. Clit pinched between two fingers, massaging every little nerve. “Cum on my tongue.”

Your head drops forward, tear slipping free. Haechans raspy tone saying those words driving you past your limit. Ass lifted off the pew, core convulsing. Haechans tongue placed against your fluttering entrance. Catching all of your release. You weakly fall forward again, forehead resting on top of his messed up hair.

“So good.” Haechan moans words out, licking clean the wetness seeping from you. Neck lifting, hands cupping your cheeks. “Taste.”

Tongue pushing between your parted lips, trying to catch your breath. Haechan laps at your tongue, realization hitting you in seconds what he’s making you do. Tasting yourself between your lips. His tongue covering every corner inside your mouth. Haechans hands return to your hips, pulling you off the front of the pew to straddle his lap.

“You want it?” His hand digs into the back of your hair. Jean clad dick shoving between your thighs at your heated core. Weakly nodding, eyes half open lazily pecking pouty lips. Haechan lays back down flat across the pew. Warm hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly. “Come here.”

Your head nods, under his command. Mind controlled by whatever he’s saying, telling you ‘I want it- no matter what it is.’ If it’s from Haechan- give it to me, now. You lay down on his chest, kisses continuing. Hands squeezing around your ass, pulling up your dress. Hands flying down hard with mean slaps. Fingers gliding down finding way between your legs again. Skimming up and down your slit from the back. Soft moans passing between your swollen lips.

Body tensing, sounds of the large entrance doors opening up with a slam. Haechans eyes open up staring into yours, brows lifted. His lips purse out with a silent ‘shhh’, earning a rapid head shake from you. Familiar smirk pulling at his lips, free hand clamping over your mouth. Your eyes widen, lips pressing into the palm of Haechans hand. Fingertips circling around your needy entrance. Panic rushing through you as loud foot steps approach closer and closer.

Your forehead shoved up against Haechans. Mouth closed off, silent whimpers falling out behind his hand. Finger sliding inside you, his lit up eyes watching your expressive eyes react. The fear and curiosity alone could make him cum.

“Are you kidding me!” A flash light shines over your faces. Mark standing at the end of the pew in disgust. Your head lifts quickly, ripping Haechans hand off your mouth. Cheeks heating up absolutely mortified. Moving fast, adjusting your dress to cover up. Haechan stays laid down, eyes fluttering shut with irritation.

“Fucking cock block.” He whispers to himself, sitting up. Tent in his jeans extremely evident.

“I knew you stole my keys again Haechan!” Mark clicks the flash light on and off angrily. Both of you covering your eyes. “and you! Mary of Magdala! You should be ashamed! Think of your mother!”

“Dude, chill.” Haechan stands, hands held up trying to block the bright light from his eyes. “We weren’t doing anything.”

“Weren’t doing anything?!? If people found out what you were doing, this one would be getting pelted with stones!” Mark passes the light over your face. You cringe, hands coming up to hide yourself.

“Mark, quick, what’s the verse about fucking that really cute voice of an angel choir boy?” Haechan throws him a knowing look, pulling a lanyard from his pocket. Marks eyes widen, snatching his keys away.

“Don’t steal my keys again! Next time I will be telling your father!” Mark scurries away, door slamming behind him.

“Oh my God he’s gonna tell your dad!” You panic, pulling your dress down. Attempting to wipe away any mascara that could be on your cheeks.

“Nah he’d never, can’t risk everyone finding out about Renjun. Don’t worry baby, I got something on everyone.” Haechan pulls you in, gently pecking your lips. Your senses relax, mind torn with stress still. Who the fuck were you right now..

“You know..” Haechan turns you around, hand scooping your chin. “I’m gonna fuck you. Right there.” He holds your jaw up. Eyes on landing on the altar.

“Jesus will know all your sins after I’m done with you.”

Part 3–>

Taglist:

@seuomo @unknown5tar @sunoosi @safariria @nctlover94 @underjeno @nanascupid @jenorenle @scruffiejelly @mel-yjh @count-your-shadows @sunflowerhae @johnjaespeach @nctflix @notsooperfect​ @skrtbeepbeep​  @lanadreamie​ @nctstrawberrycow​  @meonlightuniverxse​ @sunshinedhyuck​ @haechanswhore​ @brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr​ @kpopmultiifandomm​ @d1nne​ @neobanguniverse​ @pewpewpwe00​ @abitofafan​ @haechansworld​ @born5sos​ @bockhyun​ @prettychannie​ @xuyiyangstan​@alexameliamg​ @ahsshilee​ @jeon-jungkook-is-actually-god @xwanna127x @heyitsbreeeeee @tarolovebot @loveyukhei @eleanorfreakingchan @classic-antifood @winwiniee @sheytanni @player23 @wavetease @nahyuckk @n0hyuck @doyoungssouthernbabygirl

[kass-storycorner]

Hello!! i stumbled across your works and i absolutely fell inlove with your writing (especially the angsty ones)

Can i jump on the angst train and request a fic with a line that goes "I'm here, you dont have to wait anymore," with childe? Like maybe the reader told childe that theyll wait for him no matter how long it takes (and maybe a sprinkle of argument) but something happened that made the reader be on the brink of death. With or without comfort/happy ending is up to u!!

first of all thank you so much for the request! and it really makes me so happy to hear that you like my writing, especially my angst haha secondly I am so sorry that this took so long, since I saw this ask in my inbox I couldn't stop thinking about it and finished the first part of this pretty quickly - only to be stuck at how to end it (and actually fulfill the request haha). right now i am not really happy with the ending, though I feel like this is the best I can currently do! I really hope you enjoy, please let me know if it was alright haha (also I fear that I didn't really...wrote Childe in-character, I don't know)

Waiting for you

Genre: Angst, Hurt, comfort at the end

Characters: Childe x gn!reader (Childe is referred by is actual name by the reader, but outside of dialog he's called Childe)

Format: bullet points (backstory) + Text (actual fic, answer to the prompt)

Word count: 4324

Content warning: veeeery slight spoiler warning for the Liyue quests, its literally just one sentence and I tried to keep it as ambigious as possible, slight cursing (using the word bitch too, though thats the only instance of using gendered-vocab for the reader, i still wrote them gn!), mention of blood, mild violence, not proof-read ahah when will i ever do that

you can find the fic under the cut, have fun reading!

You and Childe knew each other since you were just little kids – him and his family being neighbours had meant you always ended up playing with him and his siblings, though you both got along the best.

On more than one occasion you both just ran off to somewhere no one could disturb you, your secret hideout, trading stories of great warriors from outside of Snezhnaya you heard the fishermen at the docks talk about.

Most people and children were wary of Childe, he was always the one who wanted to ‘play-fight’, which ended most of the time with the other kid running home, crying. However, you were the exception, always able to beat him or at least have a tie. Your parents, especially your father, hated it when you came back home with bruises on your arm, a bright smile and telling how you beat Childe up that day. He never felt like Childe was someone you should surround yourself with, but he kept quite for your younger years, also thanks to your mother who wasn’t fond of the fighting either but saw how much time with Childe meant to you.

Things however changed after Childe fell into the Abyss.

It was apparent how violent he got after it, even his own family was completely helpless when it came to him. So his father send him off to join the Fatui, which was a very controversial decision in the small town you both called home – most were happy to not have Childe be around anymore, for he picked up more and more fights and became more violent, but even within Snezhnaya the Fatui have a bad reputation, so most people were convinced that he would only become even worse.

Your father was one of those who was happy, but also concerned. Your mother died shortly after Childe fell into the Abyss, so your father forbade you any contact with Childe.

This, however, did not work. After Childe had to leave Morespesok you kept in touch through letters and whenever he was in town you always met up in secret.

The letters you send each other turned sweeter the older you got, changing the feelings for friendship you both felt for each other slowly into a romantic love. Childe always ended his letter with saying that he would return soon and you always with “I’ll be waiting for you Ajax”.

You always looked forward to his letters and so did he for yours. When he came back to Morespesok after every mission he had to do for the Fatui you both would meet up in your secret hideout. This place became your save haven. Conversations, hugs, kisses and even more – everything that wasn’t written in a letter between you two happened there.

Childe was fine with this and so were you. He didn’t want people to know there was someone he loved as much as he loved you, as one of the Harbringers of the Fatui it could endanger you. You on the other hand were fine with it because, even though you had no understanding for why your father forbad you the relationship with Childe, you couldn’t stomach to disappoint him. After all he was your father and you loved him dearly, no matter how much you both might disagree on things.

Still, you longed for something more – with Childe and for your own life. You wanted to travel too; you haven’t had the chance to leave Morespesok past the few neighbouring villages. So, when Childe wrote to you that after his next visit, which would only be a few days long, he was going to Liyue and didn’t knew for how long he had to stay there – you asked him in your reply if you could join him. Him writing that it wasn’t possible and better for you to stay in Morespesok and just wait for him hurt, but you understood. You are fine with waiting for him, you always were.

You were expecting a sad but loving last night with Childe before he had to leave, ending with a bittersweet goodbye. You weren’t expecting what happened instead.

Childe was angry, it was clear to see. The moment he stepped into your secret hideout you knew something was off – how he averted your eyes, how he didn’t return your kiss with a passionate one, like usual. “Ajax”, you purred in a sweet voice, “what’s wrong?”. You tried to take his hand, but he only pulled it away. Ah, that was unusual. He never refused your touch, no matter how angry he was before. “There is nothing wrong, I just was curious if there is something you want to tell me?”, he replied in a bitter tone, not even looking at you. It took you completely off guard; you saw him be angry or sulky before, you two had your fair share of arguments in the past, but somehow this was different. “No, there is nothing except for the fact that I missed you very much,” you told him, but you could feel how you started to become irritated. When you saw him two days ago visiting your family’s shop with Teucer he gave you a warm and loving smile, winking at you when he handed you that piece of paper asking to meet up tonight. What had happened in between that made him act like this? “Tsk, fine,” and with that he was on his way out. You moved quickly in front of him, blocking the way out. “Now wait a moment, would you kindly tell me what is going on here?”. He just quietly looked at you for a few seconds before he shoved you aside. “AJAX!”, you couldn’t hide your irritation and growing anger anymore, burying your fingers in his arm in order to stop him from leaving. “What did I do to make you be angry at me?”. “It doesn’t matter”, Childe replied coldly, while trying to get you to loosen your grip on his arm. “Now let me go and run home to your father and your fiancé, I bet they are already asking where you are right now.” “My what?” you replied with bewilderment. “Childe, is that why you are angry with me? Because you think I am engaged to someone else?”. Honestly, you would find this situation hilarious if it weren’t for the fact that Childe still looked at you with a sour face. “Well, I don’t think you are engaged to someone else; I know you are. Your father was really excited about the whole thing when he told me, he even invited me to your wedding, granted if I could find the time.” As he said this, he noticed how your face was a combination of confusion and anger. And oh yes, were you angry. Angry at your father for telling such blatant lies and at Childe for believing them, confused as to why he would even believe your father in the first place. “Ajax, I-“you let go of his arm, pinching the bridge of your nose and letting out a deep sigh. “I am engaged to no one, never was. I didn’t tell you this, because I didn’t want to upset you or worry you needlessly, but maybe I should’ve done it. My father continuously tries to marry me off whenever he finds anyone, he deems a worthy suitor. I guess he might have found one of your letters, though he never said anything about it, but I can’t explain why he suddenly started to become so interested in my marital status. Every few weeks he brings another person home, tells me I should marry them, for me to turn those poor fools down and tell my father he should stop. Most accept it that I have no interest in them, some stick around for a few weeks until the realise that nothing will come of it, but yeah. Ask anyone, Archons ask your family, it’s already a running joke here.” You expected the atmosphere to become less tense after you explained the whole situation to him, for him to even turn it into a joke and to apologise for his behaviour. Instead, it just grew more tense. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”, his voice still being cold, underneath it you could hear how angry he still was. “Because it wasn’t important, at least not to me. Honestly Ajax, I don’t see what the issue is here. I am not engaged and I do not plan to agree to one unless-“, you stopped yourself right there. ‘Unless it’s you who’s asking’, is what you wanted to say. You could feel how your heart fluttered even just at the thought. Childe, however, did not notice where you were going with your last sentence, too

occupied with his own anger. “Unless what?”. “It doesn’t matter, can’t we just drop the topic and enjoy our first and last night in months with each other without fighting?”, this was your last offer of peace, hoping he would finally calm down. But you knew deep down – Childe never was one to back out of a fight. “No no no, continue, tell me what you wanted to say!”, his voice growing louder and louder with every word. “Ajax, let it be,” you really weren’t in the mood for anything tonight anymore and the least you wanted to do was discuss your wish of a future with him. “No, I won’t. Tell me, because I would love to know. Or don’t, you can also just go and choose one of the various suitors your father picked out for you to fuck, I bet you really enjoy it how they are all standing in line for you,” he spit his words out, full of anger and disgust. This was the final straw for you, it was apparent that Childe choose words that he knew would hurt you with intent and it made you explode. “You know what? I’ve had enough!”, you screamed at him, feeling how tears were pooling in the corner of your eyes. Not out of sadness or because his words hurt, those were tears of pure rage. “You come in here, after I haven’t seen you in weeks, before you leave for an unspecified amount of time and all you have to do is pick a fight? Fine, here have a fight! You are unhappy that I didn’t tell you how my father wants to force me in a marriage I don’t want to be in? Boho, I am so so sorry for you Ajax. Really, I can’t fathom to imagine how much you must struggle with this, but oh well, life must be so hard when you keep travelling around Teyvat. Because I really can’t imagine how life would be outside this place, what it’s like to have anything to do. Have you ever noticed, ever realised how much I hate it? Hate the wating? Because that’s all I do! I wait for your letters, and I wait for you to return. All I ever do I wait, wait, wait. Wait for you to come home yes and wait for you to finally be ready for something, anything more!”, the tears were now streaming down your hot, angry face. Childe just looked at you, waiting for you to end what you had to say. “I am tired of waiting! I am tired of keeping us hidden, yes, I agreed to it too in the beginning, but now? Dammit, Ajax. I don’t want to be left alone here when you go to Liyue, I don’t want to wait if I don’t know for how long I should wait. I just- “it became harder for you to speak, sobs interrupting you every few seconds. “I wish you would let me join you.” Except for your sobs, which you tried to supress, silence fell over the two of you. Childe just stood there in front of you, watching how you tried to stop the tears. “You know I can’t take you with me. It’s… it’s not safe,” he said after a while. You didn’t expect for him to change his mind, however his words didn’t make you feel any better… on the contrary they made you feel even feel worse. “Leave me alone,” was all you could tell him in that moment. You didn’t want to have him near you, you didn’t want to see his stupid face or look at his sad, blue eyes. Right now, you only wanted to be alone. “(Y/N)”, Childe began softly, wanting to take you in his arms but the look you gave him made him stop dead in his tracks. “Please, I need to be alone now”. The atmosphere was heavy, both of you didn’t want to part on bad terms but – right now wasn’t the right moment to make up. “I will leave you alone, but (Y/N)”, he said, looking at you with regret about how he acted just earlier, “please wait for me.” You scoffed at his words. Wait for him, again. “(Y/N)”, you turned away, so you didn’t have to see his face when he spoke your name again. “(Y/N), please. Please promise me that you will wait for me, I’ll come back, I promise you and I will make up for this… and for making you always wait for me. I promise. You make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life. You break a pinkie promise, I throw you on the ice.” At the mention of the nursery rhyme you had to chuckle a bit. “The cold will kill the pinkie that once betrayed your friend,

the frost will freeze your tongue off, so you never lie again,” you finished it, looking back at him. “Fine, I’ll wait. But leave now.” And with that Childe left you alone, leaving Morespesok for Liyue the next day.

It has been a few months now since Childe came to Liyue and while his endeavours here were more or less successful, what was on his mind most of the days was you and how you both parted. He wanted to kick himself in the arse for how he acted that day, for making you so angry and for making you cry. The worst however is how you haven’t written him a single letter yet and Childe, though he would never admit it because of his pride, was too scared to send you one first. That he should be the first one to send you a letter was something he was aware of but still – he couldn’t find the right words. What should he write? Every time he sat down at his desk, looking at the piece of paper in front of him… he was never able to make it past “Dear (Y/N)”, and even with this he wasn’t sure, maybe “Beloved” would sound better? Childe would’ve even considered asking Zhongli for advice, however after finding out that Childe was just a pawn in his plans – he still considers Zhongli a friend, but before he could ask for advice the feeling of betrayal needs to fade out. And now he got the order to return to Snezhnaya by the end of the next month… he felt so anxious at the thought of seeing you again, not even knowing what happened with you the past months. So in the letter to his family in which he announced is return, Childe asked them, after months of not hearing anything from or about you, how you were. When he held the letter of his family in his hands, he started to feel nervous, it included the answer of your wellbeing. He knew you would keep your promise, but still. What if when not? Reading the contents of the letter, however, made him wish that he had asked sooner. Childe couldn’t stop reading the few lines his family wrote about you over and over again.

You asked about (Y/N) wellbeing in your last letter. Ajax, we wish we could tell you some more pleasant news than this, but we haven't seen or heard anything of (Y/N) for a week now. No one really knows where they might be, the last we know is that they left their home after a fight with their father, but there is nothing more we can tell you.

After reading those few lines, the letter already crumply at the edges from the way he held onto it, Childe decided to immediately make his way back home. In his opinion it didn't matter if he returned sooner than ordered and that was a problem he will face later. For now, he wanted to know what had happened to you, because he couldn't, didn’t want to, believe that you left Morepesok... you promised that you would wait for him. But doubt crept into his heart and his mind - you were so frustrated with waiting, he noticed it before you even said anything that night. However, he kept ignoring it. It wasn't like that Childe didn't also wish for more, to build a home with you, to spend more time with you. The feeling of not being good enough for you, something your father and others in Morepesok made clear to him since your childhood together, and the fear of putting a visible target on your back by being by your side... all of it held him back.

The way back home only took him a few days and when he came close to his village, seeing the once so well-known roofs and chimney of the houses, he took a junction into the woods, making his way to the secret hideout of you two. When he arrived, he noticed how it looked lived in, at first a relive for Childe, until he saw the traces of a fight - and blood on the floor. He was quick to follow the trail of blood, the father he went away from the hideout the more blood was on the ground. Suddenly he could hear a strangers voice in the distance.

"Answer me you stupid bitch!", you felt a hand pulling you up by your hair, but you were already too tired, too beaten up and injured to even respond to that violent pull. All you tried to do was to keep your hands on your stomach, trying to stop the blood from gushing out. You could barely remember what had happened, how you got there. It all started over a week ago, when you father came with another suitor wanting to marry you. Like always you turned him down, saying you had no interest in marriage, this time however he wasn't as understand as the others were. The whole thing ended in you having a huge fight with your father about it, he tried to pressure you even more than usual to take that fella as your husband. It made you sick, you just couldn't stomach being around him anymore. You always wanted to make him happy, always feared of disappointing him. But this? Him asking you to marry a random person? It was something you just couldn't do. So you went away, ran out to the little hideout planning to stay there until Childe came back. You wanted to wait for him - you even got over your stupid pride and sent away a letter for him earlier this morning... and maybe this was your mistake. Carefully you tried not to be noticed by the people in your village, you didn’t want anyone to worry about you, however you also didn’t want to explain your disappearance for the last few days. The man who your father tried you to accept as a fiancé however seemed to have spotted you when you left the post-office. It was already too late when you realised that you were followed - the man made his way into the place that was only meant for you and Childe. After that your memory started to get blurry, how was that even possible it just had happened. He attacked you, you fought back, though the man was just stronger... you ran away, feeling the blood already coming from your stomach. Your body started to become weaker, your legs grew heavier and slower until you fell. Now he was above you, grabbing your hair and screaming. It was hard to even focus on what that man said to you, too tired grew your body and mind. 'I have to stay awake', you thought. It was clear that if you lost consciousness now... well, who knows what would happen then, you only knew it wouldn't be good. You had to wait for Childe, you had to be there when he got home.

There were more than a few things in Childes live he wished he never had to see. Seeing your limp body, blood streaming out of your stomach which you could barley cover with your hand, your hair in the hands of some stranger and your eyes struggling to stay open – yes, Childe wished this was something reserved for his nightmares, not for the reality he had to face now. It didn’t even take second for him to react at that sight, swiftly being next to that man and cutting his hand off with one of his blades, kicking the rest of him away. Childe would have loved to take his time with that man, torture him, make him regret that he was born, but what was more important was to stop your bleeding. Quickly Childe sat down next to you on the ground, using his scarf to stop the bleeding. “Ajax,” he could hear you whisper quietly. “Hey, I’m here, everything is fine, everything is going to be okay.” You desperately tried to keep your eyes open, to look at him. He was a mess, his eyes filled with fear and panic spread across his face. Never had you seen him with such an expression. For only what felt a few seconds you closed your eyes and then – “Hey, (Y/N) hey, open your eyes, talk to me”, you opened them and realised that you were in Childes arms now, his eyes switching from you to what was apparently the way to Morepesok. “Ajax…”, it was so cold. When did it became so cold again? “I waited for you and now you’re here… I waited. Kept my promise.” The last few words came out slurred. “Yes, I'm here, you don’t have to wait anymore. I promise you don’t have to wait for me ever again, just please-“ his breathing was heavy, he ran as fast as he could to the village in the hopes that the healers there could help you, that there was anyone who was able to help you now. “Please, don’t close your eyes, okay?” Before you could even answer him that you will try to keep them open you could already feel yourself slip out of conscious again. All you could say before everything went dark was his name again. “Ajax…”

The first thing you noticed was a warm hand on yours. Even before you opened your eyes you knew which hand it was. “Ajax,” you were a bit shocked at the sound of your own voice. It sounded so weak. You opened your eyes, seeing into those deep blue eyes looking at you. “(Y/N)”, he didn’t sound any better. Only now you started to notice the dark circles under his eyes and how his hair looked even messier than usual. Was he by your side the whole time? “How are you feeling?”. “Better than you apparently”, you joked, weakly grinning at him. He smiled back, rubbing the backside of your hand with his thumb. “I’m glad you’re better,” he replied quietly, looking down at the hand he was holding. “I’m glad you’re here.” At that his smile faded, turning into a sad expression and you already knew what this meant. “Don’t tell me…” “I’m sorry, I wasn’t even supposed to be here just yet and my early departure from Liyue apparently has caused some issues and… well, I was able to stay here until you woke up. The deal was when you wake up or-, well that doesn’t matter now. The deal was that I had to go back and fix the damage I caused once you wake up, which is honestly way more generous than I had anticipated.” You didn’t really understand what he was exactly talking about, you were still tired, but all you knew was that he had to go again. There wasn’t any energy left in your body to hold back the tears that were now falling down your face. Childe cupped your face in his hands, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “Hey, listen,” he said softly. “I promise you won’t have to wait for too long, when you recovered, I will send for you.” At this your ears peaked, looking at Childe with hopeful eyes. “Send for me, you mean-?”. “Yes, this time around I’ll be the one waiting for you to arrive in Liyue and not you’re waiting for me to come home.” At that you threw your arms around his neck wanting to hug him, causing you to hiss in pain. You forgot that you still had a stomach wound. “Careful now”, he laughed a bit at how enthusiastic you were about the news that you forgot your injury. “You promise that I will really join you in Liyue?”, you still couldn’t fully believe that he really was fine with it. “You make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life. You break a pinkie promise, I throw you on the ice,” you leaned back and held your pinkie up in the air. Childe smiled at you softly, interlocking his pinkie with yours. “The cold will kill the pinkie that once betrayed your friend, the frost will freeze your tongue off, so you never lie again.”

[softomi]

I bet my wife is scarier than yours.

Kuroo Testuro

He was always lectured by you to take off his wedding ring when he went to the bathroom, but he was never worried about his ring. It would pass over his head as he washed his hands, urging to himself that the next time he’d do it. But today, his face fallen and pale; it didn’t help that you were already currently angry with him for forgetting to move the wet clothes from the washer to the drier; and now he watched in horror as his wedding ring slipped off his finger and into the drain.

“What are you doing?” Your hands on your hips when you see his hand stuffed into the sink.

Kuroo laughs, “Just thought I’d fix the drain.”

You eyed him before moving your way to the laundry room. Kuroo whips out his phone, emergency texting his friends who gave zero decent input into his situation. He fears that he may have to spend another week sleeping on the couch; or worse, kicked out of his home until he can replace his ring.

But he wasn’t going to let that happen, even if it meant they have to hire a plumber later to fix what he breaks, then so be it; as long as you never find out.

“You lost your ring didn’t you.” Out from under the kitchen sink, Kuroo watches your facial features frown, arms cross, and a deep irritated sigh.

“I swear honey, I’ll get it back. It’s in the stupid drain. Just don’t be mad.” When Kuroo finally manages to unscrew the bottom, he feels triumphant. He shakes the ends a bit and out falls two rings. Kuroo curiously picks up the band that was clearly not his, staring at it until he realizes, it was your ring, “What the? You lost your ring!” Kuroo is using his shirt to clean the diamond, “This cost a fortune and you let it fall through the drain!”

Your hand collides with his head, your lips twitching, “Were you not digging in the drain for yours too?”

Iwaizumi Hajime

Many thought that there was nothing that could scare the man. He was immune to bugs, horror films, even when his friends try to surprise him; it never really works. Nothing scares him; or so they thought. It was one thing for him to bring his kids to work, sure, he’s done it hundreds of times on days when he knew it was going to be slow; but you specifically told him to keep the children off the court. Has he ever listened; no because in his mind, what could go wrong, apparently everything.

“Now what are we going to tell mommy?” Iwaizumi has stopped the car now, parked right in front of their home, he turns to his two children. His beautiful six year old daughter and his two year old son.

The little girl has remnants of ice cream still on her face, “I fell!”

He should have known better than to trust a six year old, the moment she walked through the doors and saw her caring, beautiful, loving mother; she began to bawl uncontrollably. Incoherent crying mixed with child snot, Iwaizumi was praying that you couldn’t understand her and would ultimately just make her stop crying.

“What!” You stood to your feet, “You let her go out onto the court! You know how dangerous that can be with all the guys spiking volleyballs all over the place.” You step forward but he’s using his two year old son as a shield, “Hajime!”

“She was just playing with Atsumu and then she fell!” Your eyes narrow on the male and he concedes immediately, “Okay so Atsumu set the ball, Bokuto spiked it, it landed right in front of her and might of hit her face for a second.” You let out a large gasp, “But I checked! She doesn’t have any major injuries! Right?” Iwaizumi attempts to pat his daughter on the head but she sinks behind her mother’s legs; the ultimate betrayal.

“Hajime.” You take a step forward but he uses his son as a shield again, “Hajime!” The male side steps you, practically skipping to the bedroom with his son, “Don’t even think that you’re sleeping in our bed tonight!”

Bokuto Koutarou  

Bless his soul, somehow you’ve thought it would be the most fantastic idea to leave him alone with his one and a half year old daughter. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been alone with her before, but this would officially be the first time that you actually spend a full twenty-four hours away from the house, the baby, and your husband. You had left him a list of instructions on how to feed her, different house chores needing to be done, and even a detailed timetable of your daughter’s day.

“Oh no, please don’t cry. If you cry, then daddy’s going to cry.” Bokuto sits on the living room floor, his daughter sat right in front of him with the worst cry on her face.

It’s two hours until you said you’d be back and Bokuto is just realizing now that he hasn’t done anything you asked. He thought that if he put his daughter to sleep just an hour earlier, perhaps he’d have enough time to finish the chores; what he discovers is that his daughter wouldn’t sleep, instead she continued to bawl in the bed and even when it neared her nap time; Bokuto made the mistake of letting her have a sugary treat, obviously she wouldn’t sleep.

“I’m home?” Your words are drawn out when you step into the living room, your daughter and husband on the floor just on the verge of tears, the living room a mess with toys all over the floor, the laundry sprawled out onto the couch, and for some reason there’s paint on the floors and walls, “Koutarou!”

You pick up your daughter who crawled to your foot, her crying slows down when she’s in your arms and Bokuto sheepishly looks to you, “Welcome home honey!”

“Do you want to explain?” Your hand gestures to the entire house that is a mess, “I gave you a very detailed list Kou!”

He stands, arms encasing you into a hug, “I’m so sorry!” He’s peppering away your angered expression with kisses and you can’t help but to smile. His hands are leading you to the bedroom, “I’ll clean everything up, just rest!”

He wasn’t able to clean everything up, when you emerged from the bedroom with your daughter napping, you saw that somehow the mess got bigger. Your hands on your hips, a scowl on your lips, when he tries to skip to you with puckered lips, you throw a pillow to his face. Maybe he’d be better off sleeping at Akaashi’s place.

Kita Shinsuke

It hadn’t been long since the both of you tied the knot let alone since finding out you were expecting his first child, so there were many changes in his routine. He’s persistent though, if he could do it one day then the next day he could do it too. Ever since you’ve entered the stage of pregnancy where you want to eat everything and anything, Kita finds himself at the grocery store more often than he would routinely like to.

“Yes dear.” Kita listens to you ramble a list of things you would like from the store, he was absolutely tired and wasn’t writing anything down. You had been in a bad mood all day due to your sore lower back and anything Kita has tried hasn’t worked.

“Are you listening? Honey, I really want watermelon, that’s what I want the most. I don’t want the prepackaged ones, I want an entire watermelon.”

He insists he was listening but when faced with the two different type of watermelon, all Kita can remember is you saying prepackaged. So the frown you have on your face when he pulls out a little clear container of watermelon, his memory rushes back to recall that you specifically asked for a fresh watermelon.

“I’ll go back to the store.” He gulps.

“No.” Your words are sharp, the smile on your face sends a chill down his spine, “It’s okay, maybe our son will be happy that his father has given him poor watermelon instead of listening to his loving wife who asked for a fresh watermelon. Shinsuke! You said you were listening!”

He was dejected to sitting outside, pulling at the random grass as he looked over his rice field. He turns when he hears footsteps, you were pouting while looking down at him. If there was anything that he was glad about with your mood swings, it was that your anger left as quickly as it came. He stands, a hand supporting your back to lead you back to the house.

“Why don’t we go to the store together? I’ll buy you everything you want.”

Oikawa Tooru

It was no secret that the two of you were angry with each other, the restaurant was awfully cheery compared to the silent treatment that you were giving Oikawa and the one that he was giving right back at you. So you two settled on just not talking to each other; but the more you stayed silent, the more Oikawa felt uneasy. Because now you were reaching an entirely new type of mad, one where you looked calm and collected but deep down in your eyes, he was screwed.

“I’m sorry.” He finally spits out in the middle of the meal.

“For what?” You inquire, sipping the soup from your spoon slowly without looking at him.

He lowers his head, “I’m sorry I decided to go hang out with the guys instead of coming home to you, my lovely and adorable wife who I adore and love.” He tries sending you a sweet smile, hoping that his sugarcoated words would bring you back to smile for him.

“Not good enough.” Your words stab him in the back. You set the spoon down, opting to finally look at him before lifting your hand. You place a finger down, “I told you to come home early tonight so we could clean the house.” Another finger down, “You lied to me saying you had to practice longer.” Another finger, “You go over to Iwaizumi’s place because he just got the PS5 and you just had to play.” Another, “You forgot to take out the trash this morning which I told you to do before you left.” One more finger, “If you want to play with Iwaizumi so much then go sleep at his place.”

His heart is wounded, still, he tries to be sweet and caring, “You shouldn’t be so stressed honey, it won’t be good for the baby.”

Your glare causes him to retract in his seat, “Oh! So when it’s convenient for you, you’ll use the baby.”

“No that’s not what I meant.”

You begin to spew more words that dagger into his heart, he’s finally concluded that he can’t do anything to cease your anger at him and as he trudges behind you into the shared home, he can already feel the loneliness of the spare bedroom he’ll be sleeping in tonight. As he turns to head straight for the room, you groan.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You stand at the doorframe of the main bedroom. Your voice suddenly changes, “Sleep with me.”

[capesandshapes]

Didn't You Know? (Post Reveal/Pre Relationship)

Summary:

Marinette is sick and realizes that Adrien has a secret to tell her.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The music was loud.

Far too loud.

But she knew at the same time that she was drunk, far too drunk; so that might have played a part in it. Adrien sitting at the bar with girls surrounding him—draped on his shoulders and with hands on his knees— might have also played a part in it. Because she’s tired, and sick, and lonely; and he’s there like he always is, waiting to take her home, waiting to take care of her because he feels like it’s his duty.

Because he’s Chat Noir and she’s Ladybug, and he promised one day however many years ago that he would always take care of her. Now she has to live with that. Now she has to live with wanting him, but still not fucking saying it.

And just when her night seems like it can’t get worse, some guy dumps a pint of whiskey on the front of her dress and makes to clean it up, his napkin at the ready to blot it like this totally isn’t some pre-planned thing—

“Oof,” a familiar voice says beside her, placing his sweatshirt around her shoulders before she can even protest and pushing the hands away before the man can try to ‘help’. “Thank you for that, but she’s already taken care of, I think I’m gonna take her home.”

And immediately the guy, some big burly man likely in his thirties, is flinging accusations and acting like he knows everything. “And who are you to do that?” Like he wasn’t just trying to do something awful.

“I’m her husband,” Adrien says, flashing a black and green ring while throwing a cheeky smile over his shoulder as he pulled the two edges of his sweatshirt a little bit closer around her. “Happily married,” he mutters, his eyes softening as they landed on hers and he saw her pull the sweatshirt on to really sell the statement. He leaned forward to zip it up, throwing the man another smile, this one verging on a warning as he placed his hand on Marinette’s shoulder.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize,” the man began, blinking as Adrien made to herd her away.

“It’s fine,” Adrien said, his arm around her shoulders and his eyes staying firmly on her. “She’s going home.” In a stage whisper, he added, “you’re sick, aren’t you sweetheart?”

Which was only half because of the other man and half because she actually was sick, and he wanted an answer.

She had been wondering how long she could keep it from him that night, how long she could last dancing with Alya and accepting only water. Now that he knew who she was, Adrien had a way of seeing through all of her other disguises too. Like her telling herself that she wasn’t sick and trying to act like she wasn’t sick.

Even though a small part of her was afraid she might have caught the flu or been suffering from some sign of overwork…

“I’m going to get your coat,” he said, guiding her near the door.

“Are you also going to go and tell more people that we’re married?” She asked wearily, swaying on her feet.

He laughed, leaving a small kiss on her forehead that almost made her cross her eyes. “I tell everyone I’m married; it keeps them from hitting on me and technically I am…” He raised his hand, waggling his eyebrows at her, “married to the job,” he joked. “I’m taken in more ways than one.”

She wished she didn’t laugh, if only because it encouraged that type of thing. As his friend, she shouldn’t have been happy that he was sitting in clubs with his miraculous on his ring finger, turning away girls who could have been something to him. As his friend, she shouldn’t have raised the sleeve of his sweatshirt to her nose as he walked away, smelling the soft cologne that he’s taken to wearing instead of the Agreste branded stuff.

She really sucked at this whole being his friend thing. More so now than ever.

He reappeared with her jacket, her housekeys in his hand. He didn’t, of course, make any moves to replace the sweatshirt around her shoulders, just another addition to the list of many things that would always make her wonder about where she actually stood with him.

Alya always insisted that he liked her and was just waiting for the right time to say anything, but two years had passed since they’d revealed their identities and Marinette had started to doubt that. If it was more than a childhood crush, he would have told her by now.

Then again, she thought as she watched him wait for their taxi, she hadn’t told him.

***********************************

Adrien unlocked her door and hauled her stuff inside, Marinette following closely behind. He reached around her once she was safely inside, closing the door and locking it.

“I’ll stay on the couch tonight in case you need anything,” he informed her. Adrien was often overbearing when she was sick, a trait that he’d picked up from her once she learned that no one was really around to care for him when the boy was sick. It almost became tradition for the man to sleep in her living room whenever she was ill, another reason why she didn’t want him to know.

It was almost painful how much he cared.

That was the problem with the two of them, someday he would get a girlfriend or she would have another boyfriend, and they would tell him how weird this was, that he cared way too much for the young woman and she cared too far beyond reason for him as well. Then it would end.

She didn’t want it to end.

She wanted a thousand different things in her life, like to start her own fashion line and see the world, but she didn’t want Adrien to leave her.

She was in love with Chat Noir. How long? She couldn’t tell you. Before the reveal, probably. Before she knew that he shared those green eyes with the other guy who made her chest feel heavy and her breathing weak.

“You should shower,” Adrien said. “Are you hungry? We didn’t go out to eat this time.”

“I had a microwave meal.”

“You didn’t eat then,” Adrien proclaimed, marching into her kitchen. Ever since he learned how to cook one summer at Nino’s grandparents, he was a storm in the kitchen. He made food for her whenever he could, always watching her closely for her reaction to that first bite. It reminded her of her father in a way, that excitement to watch her experience new things and know that he was responsible.

She sighed, lumbering into the kitchen on exhausted legs and wrapping her arms around his back, burying her face into it and murmuring her thanks. “I love you,” she mumbled, such a common phrase from her that it always just slipped out.

“I love you too,” he stated, his hands wrapping around hers and giving a reassuring squeeze. “You can put on a new one of my sweatshirts when you get out of the shower,” he said, because eventually she had started a whole collection of them without thinking about it.

She nodded, bending over to remove her high heels before traveling further into the apartment. He was already at her feet by the time she’d managed to overcome dizziness and bend over, beginning the process of unbuckling her heels and tossing them aside.

She blinked at him, feeling his soft blond hair brush against her leg and immediately giving into the urge to touch it. Her hand wove through the back of his hair and he pressed a small kiss to her leg as he finished the last shoe, tossing them aside. “There,” he said, smiling up at her.

She really hoped he thought she was red from the fever.

Freed from her shoes, she felt the world blink in and out as she stumbled to her bathroom, turning the shower on cold to combat her fever despite her body’s pleas not to. She practically fell into the shower and she knew that he heard, rushing to the door as quick as possible. “I’m fine,” she called before he could so much as knock, blinking at the mixture of shampoos and soaps before her. When would she finally make room for Adrien to have his own shelf? She shook her head, tempted as always to see if there was some magic in his fifty-dollar shampoo, but settling for her strawberry-scented one instead. Adrien had teased her the last time she’d used anything on his recommendation.

Finally clean, she emerged from the bathroom, walking the short distance in her towel before ending up in her room. “It’s almost done,” Adrien said from the kitchen as she pulled on a pair of joggers and one of his old sweatshirts, pulling her hair into a sad attempt of a bun.

Deeming herself close enough to presentable, she moved back into the kitchen, steadying herself on the wall when he noticed her and his face broke into a smile.

“You didn’t have any chicken stock, so I made leek soup,” he said, gesturing to the bowls, one for her, one for him.

She nodded, grabbing the bowl and moving to the living room, scooting too close into his side when he settled on the couch beside her, flicking on the tv. He threw on the show they’d been watching recently, a bad soap opera about werewolves that had the sets falling apart around them. She let out the softest yawn when the theme music began, sinking further and further into him until he finally finished his food, placing his arm around her.

“When is she finally going to realize that he’s in love with her,” she grumbled. “I mean, they’re dating, aren’t they?”

“I don’t know,” Adrien said, pulling the empty bowl from her lap and pulling her on top of him, the two laying together as the show continued to play. His eyebrows furrowed, concern for the characters showing on his face, “I mean, she has stuff at his place and everything.”

That didn’t mean anything, Marinette had things at Adrien’s place. She had more than one drawer, a whole closet even. “I mean, he said he’s in love with her, right?”

“Yeah,” Adrien agreed. “And they go practically everywhere together, people invite them as a couple.”

“And he sends her all these texts every day of things that she’s into!” Marinette complained. “I don’t know much about love, but that seems like it’s part of it.”

“Mhm,” Adrien agreed, pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth. “Thank you for the recipes the other day, by the way.”

“No problem—” she began, and then stopped, her eyes sliding over to him. He still watched the tv with the same expression, not even giving what he’d done a second thought.

“I think he’s finally about to say it,” Adrien stated with a frown. “It’s taken long enough.”

But Marinette couldn’t focus on the show at all. All she could do was stare at him. “You almost kissed me,” she marveled.

He cast her a questioning look, looking over at her just slightly before turning back to the tv. “Do you want me to fully kiss you, or?”

Marinette straightened, using her forearms to jerk back from him, her eyes wide.

He blinked, turning around to look at her, his eyebrows furrowed. “Marinette?”

“You kissed me,” she repeated, deciding at the corner was good enough and reaching to touch her mouth with her hand almost absentmindedly, tumbling against his chest in the process.

“Yes?” He said, peeling her off him to look him in the eyes. “I mean, that’s what people do when they’re dating—”

Her mouth fell open.

“Marinette..?”

“We’re dating?!” She yelled, her eyes wild.

He immediately flattened against the couch, looking almost as shocked at the statement as she was. “Marinette, I have stuff at your apartment, you have stuff at mine. I cook for you, we have shows. We watched all of Naruto together. You tell me you love me every day, and I say it back.”

“But that’s—We—” She floundered, almost falling off the couch.

Adrien’s hand caught her. “Marinette, be careful, you have a fever—”

“How long?” She asked, slumping into his hand. “We haven’t even kissed—”

“To be fair, we have kissed plenty of times before and I just assumed—”

“How. Long.” She repeated, and she could see the pure terror grow in his eyes.

“Two weeks?” He said, quickly explaining, “I mean, I sent you that long text about how much I liked you and you sent me back that you would be lucky to be my girlfriend, any girl would—”

She gasped, almost falling backward this time before his hands plastered themselves to the small of her back, the young man sitting up beneath her.

“Marinette?!”

“You’re my boyfriend,” she said loudly. “Oh my god, you’re my boyfriend.”

“Is that a bad thing?” He frowned.

“But you tell people that you’re married—”

“As a private joke,” he corrected. “I also tell people that I’m taken, not as a joke.” His hands pulled back from her, his voice almost unsure as he asked, “do you not want to be?”

“Of course, I want to be,” she squeaked. “I mean, that’s like asking someone if they want to be rich, or have a room full of puppies, or cure cancer—”

The corner of his mouth rose in a smirk.

“It’s just that I didn’t know,” she finished. “I haven’t even kissed you. And now I’m sick and I have this boyfriend here to take care of me, and he’s going to sleep on the couch…” Marinette struggled to list everything else wrong.

Adrien didn’t give her a chance.

No, instead he grabbed the side of her face and pulled her down, pressing his lips against hers in a firm, inarguable kiss.

“Well, I don’t have to sleep on the couch…” he said as he pulled away.

[sergiovinazzi]

Stolen - Lando Norris x Reader (Chapter Three)

3.9k words - Rated M (language)

Here it is, my most favourite chapter to date, I hope you enjoy!

You smooth the skirt of your soft, black-linen sundress with shaky hands and pinch the bridge of your nose. You’re regretting not packing anything warmer than the denim jacket currently wrapped around your shoulders when you’re interrupted by the disgruntled sounds of your father calling your name through the phone speaker.

“What?” you ask, exasperated. “Sorry, I got distracted for a second.”

He repeats himself in annoyance, “I said, are you okay with staying at the hotel and ordering dinner for yourself?”

Staring at the restaurant in front of you, you debate whether or not to explain your situation to him. You realise, however, that he probably has enough to worry about after today’s events at Silverstone, and his daughter being out to dinner with another team’s driver probably won’t go over well.

“Yeah,” you lie. “I could use a quiet night in. Will you grab something to eat for yourself on your way back?”

Your dad hums, and you can tell that once he heard the confirmation that he didn’t need to get dinner for you, he lost interest in anything you had to say after the fact. It’s not difficult for you to understand why. Still, the lack of a verbal response worries you and you find it hard to evade the thoughts about Max and the accident. To most, the fact that he got out of the car and could walk was a good sign, but you’re still plagued by the various possibilities of what the hospital tests will conclude and just how bad the damage really is.

“Will you let me know if he’s okay?” you ask quietly, squeezing your eyes shut and pressing the phone closer to your ear, as if you could hone in on the doctor’s discussions in the background to find out whether Max was going to be alright.

Your dad simply hums again. “I’ll text you when we know more, but I’ve gotta go. Talk to you soon.”

“Bye, dad,” you murmur.

His quick Bye, love you is rapidly replaced with the end-of-call dial tone.

You slip the phone into your jacket pocket and take a deep breath, preparing to head inside the restaurant. You couldn’t help but clock the bright orange McLaren already stationed in the parking lot when your Uber arrived. You recognised it from a picture in the article you read when you first learned of Lando’s incident at Wembley. You’re thankful for the sign that he’s already here and you dredge up the remaining ounces of fake confidence left in your body, making an effort to quickly smooth down your hair before you open the door and enter the restaurant.

You’re immediately overwhelmed by the sheer atmosphere of elegance. Hand-painted horizons adorn the walls, encapsulated by swirling silver frames and accentuated by the small lights stationed above each piece of artwork, their job for the night to highlight the colours and shading the artist undoubtedly spent hours perfecting.

The savoury scents of garlic and soy originate in the kitchen and permeate across the premises with ease, challenged only by the rousing aroma of the stunning frangipanis adorning the entrance.

A woman you guess to be around your age approaches you with a notepad and pen in hand. She’s dressed in a black bodycon skirt with a hem that scrapes the top of her knees; her matching coloured button up shirt is tucked in smoothly. “Hi,” she greets with a small smile, “Would you like me to show you to the bar?”

“Oh, I’m actually supposed to be meeting someone here,” you tell her, eyes scanning the room for Lando.

You see him before he sees you.

He’s tucked away at a table in the corner, his brown curls peaking over the top of the large menu he's studying.

“Found him, thanks,” you tell the waitress and she returns to her station as you make your way across the restaurant towards Lando.

He looks up from the menu as your figure appears in his peripherals and he shoots you a wave when you’re a few metres away. You return his gesture with a small laugh and he stands, walking to the front of the table to greet you.

“Hey,” he says, enveloping you in a one-armed hug. “Glad you could make it.”

“Me too. I hope you weren’t waiting long,” you tell him, noticing the almost empty glass of beer in front of him as he returns to his seat.

“It wasn’t too long, don’t worry,” he reassures you.

The reality of the situation fails to present itself to you until you and Lando are seated silently across from one another. Your stomach is tightly wound with nerves but Lando appears just as anxious, noticeably fidgeting in his seat and frequently straightening his knife and fork. He’s dressed rather sharp compared to what you’d been treated to in the past, the blue and orange race suit discarded for a crisp white button down and black dress shorts. You wonder whether the outfit you picked out is suitable for tonight, although you cut yourself some slack. When you’d packed your suitcase on Wednesday, you’d hardly expected to spend any time outside of the Red Bull garage or your hotel room, let alone situated in a restaurant that was, now very obviously, out of your price range. The thought causes you to send a silent prayer to whoever would listen that you had enough in your spending account to pay your half of the final bill tonight.

The woman who greeted you earlier approaches the table to ask what drinks the two of you would like to order.

Lando asks for a cola and you look at him in confusion.

“You’re not going to have another one?” you ask him as he hands over his empty beer glass.

“No, I’m not a big drinker,” he replies, “Especially not during the season.”

“So why did you invite me to have drinks then?” you ask, clearly amused. “Are you trying to get me drunk, Lando Norris?”

He laughs, and raises his hands in mock surrender, “Hey! No, nothing like that. I just don’t really drink, I never have.”

“Yeah I kinda noticed that actually,” you tell him. “Even on your podiums you don’t drink the champagne.”

“I thought you didn’t watch Formula 1?”

You wish you could wipe the stupid smirk off of his face as you practically watch the realisation form in his head. “Have you been watching my old races?”

“No,” you retort somewhat unconvincingly. “I found some highlights on YouTube though, and your podiums from Spielberg and Imola were on there.”

“My podium finish in Monaco is pretty good too. I’d be happy to show it to you sometime, though, it’s a shame that you find racing so boring.”

You roll your eyes and laugh. “Shut up.”

The warm glow emitting from the industrial-style bulbs resting overhead doesn’t help the blush settling on your cheeks, and neither does the grin Lando shoots you. You shrug off your jacket and place it carefully on the back of your seat just as the waitress arrives with your freshly poured Caiproska. You thank her and trace your fingers along the cool side of the glass, collecting the droplets of condensation that form in hopes that they’ll provide some sort of relief from your keen fever.

Lando’s gaze is strong enough that you feel him watching you without having to look across at him, it transcends the need for observed confirmation and instead sets your body alight merely at the thought of it. The thrum of your heart threatens to escape the confines of your chest and you stupidly pray that he doesn’t hear it as the exposed skin of your chest flushes scarlet against the dark neckline of your dress. You clasp the charm that sits at your throat, pinching it between your fingers and allowing yourself to bask in the minimal relief the cold metal provides against your warm skin.

Lando wipes his sweaty palms on his shorts and takes a deep breath. “So, that was a pretty crazy race today, huh? I didn’t think I’d be able to hold onto fourth place, not with another Ferrari behind me and Daniel.”

“Yeah, it was crazy,” is all you can reply before delving back into your pocket at what you think is the sound of your phone receiving a message.

God, he thinks, he’s boring you half to death. He finally has you all to himself and the only topic he can string more than a few words together for is his job, treating you like a reporter he’s obligated to unpack his strategy for in the paddock. He doesn’t understand why he’s so fucking nervous tonight, he wasn’t nearly this wound up when he’d asked you out. Sure, it was an effort to keep his hands from shaking as he locked his car and crossed the parking lot, but he convinced himself it was just the gentle breeze passing through the city that set his flesh alight with goosebumps. He was simply excited, more than anything, to spend some one-on-one time with someone his own age, and if that someone happened to be a pretty girl, who could blame him for looking forward to it?

But then you showed up in that dress and suddenly the possibility that he’d see you out of it by the end of the night if he played his cards right became more and more realistic. His head spins at the thought of taking you home tonight. And the next night. And suddenly the thought is replaced by the images of himself coming home to you every night. After months overseas with nothing but timezone-dependent calls he returns to the comfort of your embrace, it’s your fingers that gently scrape the back of his neck as a confirmation that he’s home. It’s the warmth of your body and the lilt of no one else’s voice that cures the cavity in his chest that enveloped him the moment he shut the apartment door behind him all those weeks ago. He sees you seated on his kitchen counter, legs swinging as the coffee brews each morning, and asleep on his couch every night even after you’d promised if he let you pick the movie you’d stay awake this time.

He knows he’s in way over his head. He only just met you, what, three days ago? Yet here he sits, wishing there was some magic rule book that could explain how he could make sure his time with you never ends. He wishes he’d met you long before this week –honestly, it feels like he’s known you for much longer–so that the heat that rises underneath his shirt and the lump in his throat doesn't lend itself to the idea that he’s just some lust-fuelled boy. Your text messages make him laugh like no one else’s have before and the thought that you were watching him this afternoon, after you weren’t initially planning to stay for the race, had him feeling more confident than he has all season.

He knows he can’t tell you all that, it’s way too soon and you’ll think he’s crazy. He has to think of something interesting to talk to you about to fill the minutes before he feels it appropriate to ask you out for a second time, but instead he sits in silence as you refuse to meet his gaze. Your eyes won’t stop lingering on your phone screen, or darting around the restaurant, undoubtedly searching for distractions. Signs on the wall you could read to pass the time until the check comes, or maybe you’re searching for a saviour, a bartender to lock eyes with who’ll answer your silent plea: get me the hell out of here. He’s caught off guard when your eyes make their way back to him, his heart skips a singular beat like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. He’s preparing himself to appear nonchalant in response to the immaculately crafted excuse you’re undoubtedly about to deliver in order to explain your sudden escape from his company, when a small smile forms on your lips instead.

He smiles back.

“Sorry,” he explains. “I know I talk a lot about racing. It’s kind of my whole life at the moment so it’s easy for me to get carried away.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m kind of used to it anyway. It’s basically all we talk about at the dinner table when my dad’s home.”

“Well, what do you like to talk about? I saw on your Instagram that you’re studying advertising, tell me something about that.”

You smile at his consideration and tell him all about your degree. How you’ve always had an interest in design and noticed how it could be used to turn a profit, right from when you would try your hand at creating the posters for your school’s bake sales and car washes. You tell him the story of your first paid commission for a digital advertisement, an intricately crafted Instagram post for an up-and-coming clothing boutique based in London. He asks questions in all the right places and offers his congratulations when you show him screenshots of some of your most successful work.

Conversation ebbs and flows easily throughout the night, the nerves that had you second guessing your decision to come earlier tonight eradicated. The food is tremendous, and your company even better. Your waitress returns with the final bill for the night and Lando hands his card over without hesitation.

“Hey, no,” you say. “Let me pay for my half.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he tells you. “This was my way of repaying you for bringing my watch back, remember?”

Oh. That’s all tonight was for. He felt obligated to spend money on you in return for the trouble you’d gone through to return his stolen timepiece to him.

“When I talked to the police they said they could get me the money back once the guy was caught,” you stress. “So, you don’t need to do that.”

He brushes your statement off with a wave of his hand and smiles when the waitress returns with his card and a receipt.

Your mind mistakes the reverberation of champagne flutes clinking together for the chime of your text tone and you instinctively reach into your purse, hoping to see the screen alight with good news. You’d settle for any news really, so long as it meant you would finally get a clear picture of what was going on, and you could stop embellishing the details of the worst case scenario you had designed in your head.

A 51G impact like the one you had witnessed today can do a lot of damage to the body, whether visible from the outside or not, and you hoped, more than anything, that the helmet and halo were enough to protect Max from anything more than a few minor scrapes and bruises.

You’re lost in a world of nightmarish outcomes until you remember where you are. Lando’s face is contorted in a concerned frown across from you.

“Everything alright?” he asks gently.

“Yeah, sorry, I thought I heard my phone go off but it must’ve been something else.”

“It’s getting pretty noisy in here, do you want to head outside?” he offers.

“Okay.”

———

In the slight summer breeze you observe the moonlight washing across Lando’s figure, illuminating his features softly and elucidating the closeness of his face to yours. The proximity allows you to easily breathe in the pleasant cedarwood undertones of the cologne that adorns his skin, and allows him to imagine the sweet ropy flavour undoubtedly lingering on your tongue from the maraschino cherries you’d so delicately placed between your teeth throughout night.

The crinkles that form at the edges of his eyes as he meets your gaze with a smile are priceless. You wish you could bottle the feeling they give you and save it for a day you need it most.

“I had a nice time,” he tells you, practically beaming. “I can’t remember the last time I went out after a race and talked about stuff other than racing.”

“Yeah it was nice, dinner was really good too.”

“Yeah.”

The two of you stand in silence while you wait for your Uber to arrive. Lando had insisted on driving you back to your hotel but you knew his car would cause a fuss so you declined and told him you had an Uber discount code that was due to expire. You make an effort to seem fascinated by the cracks in the sidewalk and Lando acts intrigued by the streetlights, both of you dancing around the question that lingers unspoken in the air.

Are we going to meet up again?

The alert on your phone informs you that your driver is only a minute away.

“He’s almost here,” you tell Lando. “Thank you so much for paying for dinner, you really didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s okay!” he insists. He shifts his weight on his feet before offering his arms to you.

You accept his invitation and hug him goodbye. You can’t help but notice the heat radiating through his thin shirt and feel his heart hammering between your two chests. His fingertips burn brands into your skin as they rest softly on your back and when he pulls back from you his hands don’t move an inch.

You catch his gaze and feel his thumb sweep softly over the fabric of your dress, underneath your jacket, before his lips meet yours in a searing kiss.

You’re caught off guard to say the least. His hands are hot on your back but his lips are soft and you’d be lying if you said they weren’t sending your head into a frenzy.

The rest of the day’s events are temporarily overruled by Lando kissing you; lying to your dad about where you are, wishing you could celebrate Lando’s fourth place finish with him in his garage, the repetitive questions aimed at you by the police that had you exhausted by mid morning, let alone Max’s accident.

Max.

And suddenly it’s not Lando’s but another pair of lips that are on yours, larger and hungrier and they come with a devastating reminder of what it’s like to sneak around with a Formula 1 driver. The lying and heartache that you remember all too clearly to feel like the kind of falling that jolts you awake from dreams.

You pull back and place your hands on Lando’s shoulders, staring down.

He’s instantly apologetic, bringing a hand through the front of his hair. “Sorry, I thought…fuck, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you say, removing your hands and wrapping them around yourself. “It’s okay, um my car’s here anyway so I gotta go.”

He just nods and shoves his hands into his pockets.

The slamming of the car door feels like a hammer pounding in Lando’s head. For a moment he had you. In his hand was the opportunity to make something great out of your meeting, but he wrapped his fingers inward and crushed it in an instant.

———

When you wake the next morning, your head remains sore from the screeching of car engines throughout your eventful weekend. Though not particularly unbearable at the time, the accumulation of noise over the three days you were at the track had definitely built up.

Instinctively, you check your phone, assuming that you would be confronted with your typical notifications: a recommended Instagram account, a liked Tweet, maybe even a text. You know you’re being optimistic to expect anything from Lando, your mind refusing to stop reminding you of how awkward you had made your time together the night before. Still, you yearn for any sort of reassurement that it wasn’t as bad as your overthinking had made it out to be.

You read the time and see that it’s almost noon. You know that your dad will be out until around two o’clock, already fussing about with work related ordeals in order to have things perfect for the race in Hungary. When you eventually awaken enough to read the notifications on your phone, you find it difficult to hide your surprise as you find a text and missed call from Lando, the nervous feeling that you endured last night returns, sinking into your stomach like a stone.

Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I had a really nice time last night :) Sorry if I was too forward at the end, I hope it didn’t ruin your night or anything.

Biting back a smile as you read the text, your mind is put at ease as you realise that he enjoyed himself as much as you did. You’re tempted to text him back immediately and tell him that he’s being silly, that of course he didn’t ruin your night. You wish you could explain your situation with Max and how, if it were any other night than the one your ex-boyfriend spent in hospital, you would have kissed Lando back. However, your plan to reply is thwarted as you notice the notification that informs you Lando also left you a voicemail. He must have called some time after sending his initial text message. Finger hovering over the play button, you are hopeful that it’s further kind words about your time together, or perhaps an invitation for a second ‘date’. If you could call it that. Nevertheless, you push the button.

The disappointed sigh he lets out causes your heart to stutter, before his voice crackles through the phone speaker.

“Hey, it’s me. Sorry for calling, I know I already texted you and um… I hate that I have to do this but I think it would be better for you to hear it from me instead of finding out online or something. I’ve just seen that someone got pictures of us together last night. I didn’t think anyone who knew me would be there but I guess it was still close enough to Silverstone that someone recognised who I was. I’m really sorry, but if it is any help I don’t think anyone recognised you because your face isn’t really in the photos. I’m trying to get them taken down and it’s not really on Instagram or in the news or anything, but lots of people on Twitter are talking about it. If there’s anything that I can do, please let me know. I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widen at his words, breath hitching in your throat as you process it. You replay the message over and over, as if hearing it multiple times will change the bad news Lando delivers each time. Instinctually, you close the app and scrub your hands over your face. You wonder about what exact kind of picture the photos he’s referring to imply. Does it paint a picture that could get you in trouble?

What about Lando?

Fuck.

What about your dad?

Your stomach drops at the thought of him seeing them. Getting caught lying about your whereabouts was one thing, but being caught with Lando Norris while you promised you were tucked up in the confines of your hotel room opens up a whole new world of possible consequences.

As if the universe can read your mind, it delivers your worst nightmare to you on a silver platter, piping hot and laced with venom.

A notification appears from your dad.

Call me when you’re awake.

-------

tag list @lovebynorth @its-astrotea-love​ 

[cqlfeels]

@lansplaining encouraged me to finish this random meta nobody asked for, so let's talk about Meng Yao, Meng Shi, and 孟母三遷 (mèng mǔ sān qiān), a proverb about good parenting.

A warning: this is super long (even for me!) and is less quality meta and more my ADHD brain jumping around a maze of loosely related ideas. Proceed with caution!

Let me start by briefly going through why I decided to write this, because it’s important. In haunting Meng Shi’s tag in my starvation for Meng Shi content, I’ve multiple times come across the idea that Meng Shi pushed Meng Yao too hard, that she should’ve been more careful with teaching him to seek his father’s approval at any cost, and that she was too naïve. I’ve never reblogged this kind of post because 1) I personally think it’s rude to go out of your way to ramble about how much you disagree with someone on their own post and 2) if this was an isolated incident I wouldn't care either way, so I didn’t want to direct this rant at anyone in particular. It’s more to do with a tendency, primarily (as far as I can tell) from fans who haven’t had much contact with Chinese culture, to oversimplify Meng Shi and make her relationship with Meng Yao slightly disturbing, and I think part of it is due to CQL basically cutting out her entire storyline (so fans simply don’t have info about her to assess her fairly) and part is due to misunderstanding what a good parent is supposed to act like in the context of Ancient China.

[Of course, Ancient China is not a very useful historical concept, not any more than “ye olde Europe” - things change a lot based on time and place - but you know. It’s fantasy. Extremely broad trends are okay in this case.]

Anyway, the idea behind the posts I mentioned is, basically, that Meng Shi (usually through no fault of her own) is to blame for Meng Yao’s obsession with power, since his desire for approval was inherited from lessons she taught him. Just to start with, I’d argue that Meng Yao isn’t power-hungry as much as he craves security and respect, but that’s a different meta. Let’s assume that she really did teach him to be Like That. Was she wrong to do so? I’m not looking for “does that make for a happy, well-adjusted childhood?” or “would you raise your own son as Meng Shi did?” - I’m trying to figure out, would she have been considered a bad mother in the context of the society she lived in? I don’t think she would’ve.

It is surprisingly hard to find texts about the obligations of parents in Ancient China. Their main obligation is to raise filial children, but I feel like that’s not very useful: whether or not parents are good parents, children are expected to be filial, so a child being filial really says more about the child than about the parent. Maybe the parent completely missed the mark and society at large was what taught the child to be filial!

We can assume, of course, that parents were to raise good people, and that by learning what a good person looked like, we could figure out whether the parent was successful, but once again, I feel like that’s pinning things on the outcome, not on the process - the best of parents can end up with an awful kid and vice versa.

While thinking about all this, it took me a frankly embarrassing amount of time to remember the story of Mother Meng and Meng Zi, but once I did, it wouldn’t leave my mind - in part because the Meng here is the exact same Meng of Meng Shi and Meng Yao (yay! fun if useless parallel!), and in part because this is a story about how a woman can successfully raise a son by herself.

Okay, so important note: one of the most influential ancient Chinese thinkers is Meng Zi (孟子 Mèng Zǐ), who is known in the West as Mencius. If you've never heard of him - he's perhaps second in importance only to Confucius. When Mencius was still a young child, his father died, so he was raised by his mother, who is usually known only as Mother Meng (in Chinese, 孟母 Mèng Mǔ.)

Mother Meng's story is told in Biographies of Exemplary Women (列女傳 Liènǚ Zhuàn), which for around 2000 years beginning around the 18th century BCE, was the most commonly used book used to educate women. The book is divided into sections, each one showing a different way women could be honorable and good. Mother Meng's story is told in the Maternal Models section (母儀傳 Mǔ Yí Zhuàn.) The story has a few parts, some of which I'll quote, always from Kinney's 2014 translation.

Before I go on to quote it, though, I'd like to establish that Mother Meng's story is so, so famous that even if Meng Shi had never read this particular book, I'm almost certain she would've been familiar with at least the outlines of Mother Meng's story. I'm not cherry picking a suitable chapter from the book, I'm literally going with the most famous story in it because Meng Shi would be most likely to know this one if she knew no other story.

Okay, the first part of the tale takes place when Mencius is a young boy and Mother Meng is a widow raising him.

The mother of Meng Ke of Zou [a different name for Mencius] was called Mother Meng. She lived near a graveyard. During Mencius’ youth, he enjoyed playing among the tombs, romping about pretending to prepare the ground for burials. Mother Meng said, “This is not the place to raise my son.” She therefore moved away and settled beside the marketplace. But there he liked to play at displaying and selling wares like a merchant. Again Mother Meng said, “This is not the place to raise my son,” and once more left and settled beside a school. There, however, he played at setting out sacrificial vessels, bowing, yielding, entering, and withdrawing. His mother said, “This, indeed, is where I can raise my son!” and settled there. When Mencius grew up, he studied the Six Arts, and finally became known as a great classicist. A man of discernment would say, “Mother Meng was good at gradual transformation.”

According to the translator's footnote, "gradual transformation" is "a childrearing technique, whereby a child is morally formed through daily exposure to correct models of behavior."

From this story comes the proverb 孟母三遷 (Mèng Mǔ sān qiān) - "Mother Meng moved three times." It's come to mean that a parent - especially the mother of a male child - should spare no efforts to provide an environment that will give their child a good education, paying particular attention to what models are surrounding them.

I'm sure I don't need to say if Meng Shi was at all familiar with this proverb (and she would probably be), she must have been very stressed out over literally raising her son in a brothel. (Here I must mention sex workers in ancient China were often essentially owned by the brothels, so literally "moving three times" wasn't really an option for Meng Shi even if she could miraculously pick up another trade.) Meng Shi did however at least try to surround Meng Yao with the accomplishments appropriate for the son of a cultivator:

Xiao-Meng, are you still learning those things lately? [...] The things your mom wants you to learn, things like calligraphy, etiquette, swordsmanship, meditation… How are those things going? [...] His mom’s raising him as a young master of a wealthy family. She taught him how to read and write, bought him all those swordsmanship pamphlets, and even wants to send him to school.

Meng Yao actually talks a little bit about “those swordsmanship pamphlets” in the only time in canon he directly shares memories about this mother:

Lan XiChen, “Your [guqin] skills are also considered quite fine outside of Gusu. Were they taught by your mother?”

Jin GuangYao, “No. I taught myself by watching others. She never taught me such things. She only taught me reading and writing, and bought a handful of expensive sword and cultivation guides for me to practice.”

Lan XiChen seemed surprised, “Sword and cultivation guides?”

Jin GuangYao, “Brother, you haven’t seen them before, have you? Those small booklets sold by the common folk. First jumbled sketches of human figures, then deliberately mystified captions.”

Lan XiChen shook his head, smiling. Jin GuangYao shook his head as well, “All of them are scams, especially to fool women like my mother and ignorant children. You won’t lose anything by practicing them, but you definitely won’t gain anything either.”

He sighed in a rueful way, “But how could my mother have known this? She bought them no matter how expensive they were, saying that if I returned to see my father in the future, I had to see him with as much competence as possible so that I don’t fall behind. All of the money was spent on this.”

See what’s happening? Meng Shi cannot physically take Meng Yao to cultivators, but she spares no efforts in giving him the closest thing she possibly can -- figuratively, we might say she moved three times.

Of course, these booklets don’t work, but as Meng Yao says, how could she have known this? The cultivation world is very closed off - think of how the entire Mo household gathers to see Lan juniors, and how Wei Wuxian mentions once that “Cultivation families, in the eyes of common folk, are like people favored by God, mysterious yet noble.” Not just noble, but mysterious. That tracks, too - I mean, they live in inaccessible households and mostly leave to night hunt or visit each other, neither of which is an activity that would allow commoners to get much more than an occasional glimpse of them.

Now, if Meng Shi doesn’t even know that a pearl for Jin Guangshan was just a trinket, if she doesn’t know even the wealth of a major sect, how can she read booklets and decide whether that’s genuine cultivation or not? All that she sees is a chance for Meng Yao to be surrounded by the ideas and skills of the people she wants him to emulate - cultivators - and therefore she does everything she can to get him that chance. Mother Meng moved three times.

Okay, but maybe the argument is not “Meng Shi shouldn’t have pushed Meng Yao to cultivation” but rather “she should’ve pushed him, just not too hard." To that, I present another tale from Mencius' childhood:

Once, when Mencius was young, he returned home after finishing his lessons and found his mother spinning. She asked him, “How far did you get in your studies today?” Mencius replied, “I’m in about the same place as I was before.” Mother Meng thereupon took up a knife and cut her weaving. Mencius was alarmed and asked her to explain. Mother Meng said, “Your abandoning your study is like my cutting this weaving. A man of discernment studies in order to establish a name and inquires to become broadly knowledgeable. By this means, when he is at rest, he can maintain tranquility and when he is active, he can keep trouble at a distance. If now you abandon your studies, you will not escape a life of menial servitude and will lack the means to keep yourself from misfortune. How is this different from weaving and spinning to eat? If one abandons these tasks midway, how can one clothe one’s husband and child and avoid being perpetually short of food? If a woman abandons that with which she nourishes others and a man is careless about cultivating his virtue, if they don’t become brigands or thieves, then they will end up as slaves or servants.” Mencius was afraid. Morning and evening he studied hard without ceasing. He served Zisi [a great scholar whose grandfather was Confucius] as his teacher and then became one of the most renowned classicists in the world.

Notice that Mother Meng moved three times to ensure Mencius would have the highest of aspirations - to become a scholar. But just aspiration isn’t enough. Not by any means. Now that Mencius is actually studying, Mother Meng is willing to take an extreme action to ensure he's taking it seriously. Mencius doesn't have a father to smooth his path to success. He has to learn that aspiring to greatness isn't enough. He'll have to put in the effort as if his life depended on it. And if he doesn't persist in his hard work, everything he's done thus far will be useless. Sounds like a lesson imparted on young Meng Yao, doesn’t it?

A lot of fandom rage towards Meng Shi would apply to China's Best Mom Contender, Mother Meng. She gives her son big dreams, and teaches him how to go about achieving them in a society where failing is easier than succeeding. Yes, it's fair to say that Meng Shi taught Meng Yao to refuse to settle for anything less than being “Jin Guangshan's son, a respected cultivator.” Yes, it's also fair to say that she probably didn't allow him much time to play like children his age did. But unfortunately, in the world of MDZS, poor children probably wouldn't get to play anyhow, the difference is that they'd usually be working, not studying. Studying is a privilege! It’s a privilege Meng Yao could not afford but was given to him anyway, through his mother’s many sacrifices. We can even say that while she was alive, Meng Shi was trying to ensure Meng Yao would one day have a better life, at the expense of a fun childhood - and that's very Mother Meng of her, whatever our modern Western sensibilities might have to say about that.

Finally, I’d skip other tales (which show Mother Meng and an adult Mencius) and go straight to the poem that ends the Mother Meng section:

The mother of Mencius

Was able to teach, transform, judge, and discriminate.

With skill she selected a place to raise her son,

Prompting him to accord with the great principles.

When her son’s studies did not advance,

She cut her weaving to illustrate her point.

Her son then perfected his virtue;

His achievements rank as the crowning glory of his generation.

I’d like to focus on the last verse - “His achievements rank as the crowning glory of his generation.” All that Mother Meng wanted was for Mencius to not completely ruin his life, but he became great. You can so very easily see a parallel with how Meng Shi hoped Meng Yao would be a cultivator but he became Jin Guangyao, Chief Cultivator, styled Lianfang-zun, one of the Three Venerable, hero of the Sunshot Campaign.

Of course you can say “Jin Guangyao did many Very Wrong Things to get there, though!” Which, sure, okay, fair point. How many and how wrong depends on which canon we're discussing, and your own interpretation, but there’s no version of the story in which Jin Guangyao is 100% an innocent child uwu. But blaming that on Meng Shi is just... straight up weird? I don’t see anyone going “If Jiang Fengmian hadn’t adopted Wei Wuxian, he’d never have dared become Yiling Laozu!” and that’s pretty much the same logic. Would street kid Wei Wuxian have invented a new type of cultivation if he had never been taken in by the Jiang? Probably not, but raising undead armies is very much not something Jiang Fengmian could’ve predicted. In the same way, how could Meng Shi have predicted that teaching her pre-adolescent son “You are the son of a cultivator, act like one and earn your place in society” would’ve ultimately resulted in innocent deaths? How could she predict “You’re not destined to having the same horrible life I did, you can get something better than this” was a bad thing to teach? I quite honestly don’t know.

Finally, I'd like to point towards a much flimsier evidence that Meng Shi did great as a parent. And that is Meng Yao’s love. Nie Huaisang at some point comments Meng Shi is someone who Meng Yao "cherishes more than his life," and I think his assessment is correct.

Even putting aside the fact he built a whole temple to get his mother to reincarnate into a better life, and even putting aside how he refuses to flee the country without her remains, there's still crystal clear evidence that Meng Shi must've done something right. Because a lifetime of people using his mother to bully him doesn't seem to have made Meng Yao resent her. Had their relationship not have been very strong, odds are he'd feel bitter and/or ashamed of her. That doesn't seem to be the case. He's attached to her even decades after her death.

I want to be very careful with equating mutual affection with good parenting, though. When I was a rather rebellious teenager, my mother (in typical Chinese fashion) used to say that parents and children don't have to love each other as long as they're dutiful to each other, by which she meant that a parent-child relationship isn't informed by warm and fuzzy feelings, but by whether you'd be willing to do anything for each other. Specific to my case, she meant "I don't care if it makes you hate me, you will do as you're told because that's what's best for you." (That may also be the reason why people more familiar with Chinese culture see the Jiang family less as outright abusive and more as #complicated, but that's another meta.)

Whether your kid wants to hug you every time they see you is of no consequence to traditional Chinese thought - raising them to be the best they can is all that matters, because at the end of the day, you won't be around forever, but you can definitely set up your kid's life so that it goes smoothly and virtuously. How that's accomplished varies depending on many factors, but to have the goal be "I want my child to love me" rather than "I want to raise my child right" would've been considered selfish as hell.

So even if all that Meng Shi had given Meng Yao had been stern lessons about the need to go get his birthright, she would've still have been considered a good mother!! In fact, she would've been doing everything she was supposed to do, under extremely difficult conditions! (Remember the importance of environment? That Meng Yao grew up to want to be a cultivator despite having probably never even met one speaks wonders about Meng Shi's childrearing powers!!)

But just based off how over the top Meng Yao's filal dutifulness is, I'd go a step further and say that even as she did the impossible, she was also loving enough to inspire genuine affection. This is complicated because children who have present fathers could expect their mothers to be tender with them. The first century BCE text 禮記 Lǐ Jì or The Classic of Rites says that:

Here now is the affection of a father for his sons - he loves the worthy among them, and places on a lower level those who do not show ability; but that of a mother for them is such, that while she loves the worthy, she pities those who do not show ability - the mother deals with them on the ground of affection and not of showing them honour; the father, on the ground of showing them honour and not of affection.

But when the father figure is lacking for any reason, the mother must abandon her tenderness because someone must guide the child, and without a father, the role falls to the mother. A single or widowed mother had to be very careful to not smother their children with affection and raise useless, spoiled kids, or so it was thought. (The presence of Qingheng-jun and Lan Qiren is why Madame Lan can be so affectionate with the Lan boys, by the way - if she was raising them by herself she would've been expected to be much more practical. AUs where she just gets her kids and runs away could do very cool things with this idea. But I digress!)

Where was I? Oh, okay. Because Meng Yao seems to not just respect, but actively miss her, it seems that Meng Shi somehow managed to deal with her son on the ground of both honor and affection, to paraphrase.

So basically, all things considered, it seems not only would Meng Shi have been considered a great mom (if people could look past her being a prostitute, anyway) but she also went above and beyond the bare minimum. She truly spared no efforts on any front to make sure her son had everything your average gongzi would have - someone to teach him and someone to love him, access to education and confidence in his birthright. That she couldn't actually make him a cultivator, that she couldn't actually raise him in a proper home with no one being cruel to herself or him - that's immaterial. Even Mother Meng couldn't control what her neighbors did, only what she taught her son! The key point is Meng Shi tried. She did everything she could to educate her son right. You couldn't ask more of her, and quite honestly, you should probably be asking less.

Of course we can't err on the other extreme and say she was Perfect. Given MXTX only ever writes flawed characters, we can safely assume that if we'd known more about Meng Shi, we would've seen many flaws. Indeed, just the fact she didn't teach Meng Yao the guqin when he apparently wanted to learn it might point to some conflict we don't know enough to speculate about (maybe she focused too much on cultivation when Meng Yao's interests lay elsewhere? Maybe she wasn't able to sufficiently shelter him and he felt it'd be a burden to ask her to teach him anything? Maybe maybe maybe, go wild with your fics.) Nevertheless, I would never hold a female character to a higher ideal than a male character - if the male cast of MDZS can be a hot mess and still be admirable for what they're trying to do, then so can Meng Shi.

At the end of the day, when I look at Meng Shi - and I've made myself a document with all the references to her in the novel canon so I could easily contemplate her life and character - all I see is a woman every bit as determined and resourceful as her son, willing to do everything it took to raise her little boy into the sophisticated and ambitious man he became.

Finally, here's a fun little parallel that I'm 100% sure was unintentional but I still love. I said Meng Shi couldn't have moved three times. She couldn't, but I think maybe she taught her son he was worth moving three times for. Qinghe Nie. Qishan Wen. Lanling Jin. Isn't that super fun to think about?

Alternatively, tl;dr: Oh My God I Can't Believe We're Blaming Women For The Actions Of Their Adult Children In The Year Of Our Lord 2k21, Meng Shi Was Doing Her Best, Chill!

[ahjustroza]

Do you have any hcs abt Last Legacy modern au?

Sorry for the wait! I just write very slow 🥺😭 btw I am still writing other requests! I'll post them as soon as I finish writing ✨😌😏 And YES I still take requests😏😏😏

Lol btw I haven't played the catboy Felix tale yet but found his delicious CG. Also, there might be typos etc. My dyslexia was a hoe for the last couple of days (･_･

Last Legacy Modern Au Headcanons

Sage

Lmao the first time you went to his place you faced with an ancient-looking old computer that he found in a garage sale

"It still works"

"Sage with its monitor alone you can heat your entire house in winter"

"Aye, but I don't have to use that to get heated if you catch my drift."

Let me give you a concept: thrift store dates

You took him to a thrift store once and thought it might be fun

But at the moment you entered the store Sage found a damn fake fur jacket and gold sunglasses

He will buy anything with a famous brand logo and say it is original and is an antique

But he'll only do that to annoy people

Mostly.

Sage cares about his looks but doesn't go crazy about it

Before dating you he just lived his life like a street kid like in cyberpunk 2077

Sage and Tulsi grew up in slums and then Sage got an apartment so that Tulsi could grow up in a safe environment

He didn't go to college but made sure that Tulsi did

Sage basically works as a mercenary in the modern au as well

He travels a lot and has to disappear for a looong long time

Tulsi is used to it but you aren't

Once you two are in a relationship and he feels ready to settle down he might get a job closeby to your shared house

You made him realize that he needs his family around him

And now he is not alone to carry all the burden by himself

He knows that if he can't make it in time you will be there to help out Tulsi or take care of all the work for him

He feels lighter around you

Also, he makes many people jealous on the streets lol

Whenever you two are on a date no one can believe that you, a literal divine being, could look at a Boku no pico catboy maid-sama man like him.

He is also jealous of you

But never possessive

He likes to send you out of context memes in the worst possible times ever

Like you got Luigi and Mario animations, doing the waltz, with the Britney Spears' Toxic song during the busiest hour of your shift

He also texted "This us"

The audacity

Sage would also LOVE video games

Especially Final Fantasy games

But he suck at playing them so he makes you play instead

And he'll give instructions too

"I saw a checkpoint in the other room babe,"

"Love, I gotta run away from the boss right now."

"It's not the boss, bosses have their boss rooms. This is an obstacle"

Sage also suck at filing taxes

So good luck with that

I can see Sage having PTSD treatments because of his traumatized childhood and the life he had to live until now after settling down with you

You convinced him to go to therapy and Tulsi backed you up

So he will take medications every day

At first, you had to remind him a lot, but then he just made it an addiction and now doesn't need reminders

He was never happier and finally had a taste of a healthy and caring relationship with you

He is also not so terrible with putting the IKEA furniture together.

Felix

He got expelled from Harvard.

Then his rich father had to convince the headmaster to reconsider the decision and Felix ended up with suspension instead smh

Felix's grades are great but he has disciplinary issues

I can see him majoring in criminal justice and mortuary science

Or maybe just mortuary science

Escell was very disappointed in him.

He is also famous for dating with the valedictorian among Harvard graduates

Then they broke up and you yeeted yourself in his life

Or he yeeted himself to your arms

He literally dramatically fell one day and you happened to be close to catch him

Then the Titanic music played in the background with the slow summer rain fell down to your heads

You are hot so he was flustered

Like he internally screamed when he fell in your arms

Or shall I say fell in love?

You two then started as friends since not too later he found out that he might actually have a chance with you after you mentioned your love of video games and romance books

After starting to date he confessed that he has an AO3 account asddgf

Rime was a burden too

He was the one who broke Felix's heart

But still wanted him to only love him and him alone

Then you were like

"Hoe listen to me..."

Rime hot

But no

Felix cried until morning the day you fist fought Rime in the grocery store parking lot

AAHGDHFA

Scylla secretly approved your determination that day and watched the fight afar

Escell got drunk and Florian came home the day after for everyone's explanations

The deeper your relationship got the more a part of his family you become

I mean every Friday it was now a routine that Felix and you attended family dinner

No one even asks anymore they just put your plate down and Escell hides his most expensive wine bottles from everyone

Felix is not good to live in his own house though

He always lived with someone in the house so he wasn't alone

Ever.

When you moved into the same house with him Felix was relieved

You two will be emos together and watch fifty shades of grey movies during the quarantine

Please ask Felix if he thinks the movie is interesting, he will avoid you all day long

Then become a blanket burrito at night lmao

Oh btw he might tell you random facts about mortuary

Like you are in the shower and he comes in to brush his teeth

Then he'll tell you a fact you didn't have to know then leave

"Truly fascinating, if you ask me."

He is also the type to text you from the other side of the room

Or call you from the other room to ask you if you can bring him something to eat

Felix would also love to go to the farmers' market too

"Finally some quality food."

Whenever you two go on a vacation together

lmao someone ALWAYS takes his hand and reads his palm

Only to be ended up getting scolded and getting a proper palm reading from Felix

Anisa

Call her and ask if she wants drive tru

"Love, it is thREE IN THE MORNING, I have work tomorrow-"

"So two? Or nah?"

"Get a coffee."

Actually, she wants a cookie but won't admit it

She knows you'll get her a cookie

You always get her a cookie with coffee

Anisa might be a great investigator if you ask me

If not a detective or a police chief or lieutenant

But I think she would work in law enforcement

Or she might also start her own company and rise as well

Unlike Sage and Felix, Anisa will not live in the same house with you before she decides to settle down for good

It's not because she doesn't want you around her

But because she is always at work and doesn't want to leave everything to you to handle at home

But she is always with you on her day offs

Will call you once a day at least

Text you during her breaks or whenever she can

If you can show up at her workplace during the lunch break she will take you to the nearest coffee shop

"Their coffee is not nearly as good as yours, but among other shops, this is the most drinkable one."

She will spoil you during your dates!

She likes to see you smile and will do anything for you to have a good time with her

So expect sweets, movie nights, amusement park dates, or just traveling during both of your yearly week/month offs/breaks

She won't admit it but likes it when you try to match your clothes with hers

She will know your favorite everythings lol

Take her to a dinner date and she will be so happy and feel spoiled

She will let you paint her nails

Let you get all the hot water in the shower

Will let you wear her clothes

Pillow fights are allowed every now and then

When she gets sick she'll try to power through but likes it when you baby her

Whenever you get sick she will try to not fuss over you but every 15 minutes she'll ask to take you to see a doctor

She is a cereal gal

You might have to drag her to bed many nights because she will take work at home

Oh my god, do play dungeons and dragons with her

If you visited somewhere she has never been she will ask a lot of questions about your trip

Likes to binge a tv series you two found online

Also enjoys just silent but comfortable moments with you

When you read your book she will gaze at you

All heart eyes

Will put her favorite picture of you two as her profile picture in her social media accounts

Will like your every post

ALWAYS TEXTS BACK TO YOU. ALWAYS.

Never leaves you on read/seen

She will either give you a proper text or just let you know that she is busy at the moment

Also if you come home later than her she will ask if you want her to prepare anything special you want for dinner

otherwise, she'll do dishes that you both like anyway

If she is late, she'll call you to ask if you need anything from the grocery store, etc.

[h2bakugou]

I don’t know if I have sent a request before but here I go anyways, can I request a head cannon for the three musketeers (todobakudeku) (separate) when their s/o flinches during and argument. No rush and take your time thank you!

a/n: thank you for the request even if you haven't sent one in before! i haven’t written some angst in a bit but i’ll try to give these a happy ending!!

headcanon: their s/o flinches during an argument

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, some angst 

»»————-　★　————-««

shoto todoroki

»»————-　★　————-««

Todoroki doesn’t like arguing with you. He finds arguing quite pointless. There are more civil ways to come to an understanding but yelling at one another just sounds like a waste of time.

He’d much rather prefer to sit down and discuss things with you, listening to what you have to say and saying what he believes.

But there are some rare times where some arguments just form out of nowhere.

This particular argument is about nothing in particular.

It would be like having an argument over someone taking all the cover while they slept. Which is what Todoroki had claimed you were doing.

“We can get another blanket.” You smiled. The few times you’d actually slept together, seriously sleeping together, you might’ve taken all the blanket.

“It’s fine if you could just learn to share.” Todoroki mentioned, once again showing you how large the blanket was.

“I’m asleep and I’m cold, I’m sorry I’m taking all the blanket. I thought you had a half-hot side to keep you warm at night jeez.” Your stab wasn’t meant to mock him or his father, but Todoroki sure took it that way.

“You know how I feel about my left side.” Todoroki had finished folding the blanket, placing it back on your bed. 

You couldn’t help but sigh. He was really making this a problem.

“It’s a blanket. You don’t have to lay with me if you get so cold at night.” You folded your arms over your chest. You really couldn’t believe you were arguing with your boyfriend over a blanket.

“I want to lay with you but being cold is quite a nuisance-”

“I’m sorry i take the damn blanket! Just take it back! Jeez, you are making this so much harder than it has to be Sho.” You cut him off, tired of having to fight over a blanket.

His next actions were what threw you off. He was silent and he turned away from you.

Scared you had overstepped, you reached out to touch his left shoulder right when it set ablaze, singeing his shirt.

Flinching away from him, you stumbled back onto your bed. 

“I’m sorry.” You apologized, looking down as you stared at your hand, red from the immense heat that had grazed over it. Worried that he’d burned you, Shoto quickly turned around, panicking.

“I apologize. Are you hurt? I didn’t burn you did I?” Todoroki examines your hand, completely off of the blanket subject.

“I’m fine-”

“No no. that was not fine. I overreacted. I’m sorry. My love, I’m so sorry.” Todoroki kissed the palm of your hand before placing it on his right side, holding it to his cheek, allowing his cool skin to ease the redness on your palm.

“Can we cuddle tonight?” You ask, a small smile on your lips.

“I promise to share the blanket.” You throw in, rubbing your thumb over his cheek.

“Of course, my love.”

»»————-　★　————-««

katsuki bakugou

»»————-　★　————-««

I’m not saying possessive Bakugou is a bad thing, because it’s not. But there are times when Bakugou can be a bit overbearing.

He’s not doing it on purpose by no means.

But I think deep down, he might struggle with insecurity. Everyone does.

He’s a pretty egotistical guy, and he’s cocky, and he’s got an attitude. But that doesn’t mean he has dark thoughts that creep into his head and tell him that no matter what he’ll never amount to anything great.

All that perseverance has to come from somewhere.

The argument sparks from you, Kirishima, and Kaminari all hanging out together.

“Hey babe, I’m back! Sorry, I’m late.” You smile, arriving at your scheduled hangout with Bakugou just a few minutes late.

“Oh yeah, how were Kirishima and Kaminari?” Bakugou asks, glaring at you as he stands up from sitting on his bed, patiently waiting for you.

“They were great like always-”

“So great you couldn’t send me a fucking text? Or pick up my calls?” Bakugou interrupts. 

Your mouth hangs open at his response. You quickly grab your phone and examine that you did indeed have missed calls and texts from ‘katsu<3′ in your phone.

“I was helping clean up and by the time I was done, I was rushing over here. I didn’t do it on purpose.” You tell him, surely this was all some misunderstanding.

“Are they better than me? Do they have something I don’t? I’m the best there fucking is here babe, you aren’t gonna get shit from anyone else that you’ll get from me.” Bakugou approached you, causing you to take a step back.

When your back met the door you thought you were done for. The raised hand coming up, surely to strike you, made you flinch, cowering down as it crashed into the wooden door you were pressed against.

In those few seconds of silence, waiting for something to happen, Bakugou recoiled, snaking back a few steps, staring at your small form.

His words were quiet.

“I’m sorry.” He said. You lifted your head to look at him. His own head was lowered.

You approached him and carefully placed your hands on his shoulders.

“Katsu, there’s no one else but you. I love you. More than you probably know. I don’t need anyone else but you.” You explained, watching as his blonde locks began to rise with the movement of his head.

His crimson eyes stared into your (e/c) ones.

“I’m sorry.” Bakugou wrapped his arms around you. Bakugou didn’t hate affection, but he did reserve himself. He only opened up to you like this in private. His ego was a bit too big to pull some sappy stunts out in public, but this was what mattered.

“I wasn’t going to hurt you. I was just mad. I’m sorry if I scared you.” Bakugou whispered.

“I know you weren’t. I trust you.” You kiss his cheek, sliding your hands into his.

“Wanna get some pizza and watch a movie?”

“That sounds nice.” Bakugou rested his head on your shoulder, sure to be a bit soft for a while. He wasn’t always big and bad but soft Bakugou was still just as sweet.

»»————-　★　————-««

izuku midoriya

»»————-　★　————-««

Bless his heart, he hates arguing. 

He’s one hell of a hero, one hell of a fighter, and he’ll beat a bitch up if he needs to.

But with you, the thought of even having to raise his voice at you makes him worry. That’s not saying that he can’t but he doesn’t like arguing, not with you at least.

He cares about you, and he doesn’t want to hurt you.

Like Todoroki, he believes there are civil ways to resolve issues, and communication and understanding, and listening are big roles in avoiding arguments.

But when some of these factors fall through, chaos is sure to ensue.

There’s a bit of a fallout with communication when Deku accidentally sends the wrong time for your date.

It’s a mistake but it happens.

The argument isn’t terrible, but it pulls on the heartstrings.

Deku’s running late. By an hour. You’re all alone at the restaurant and for the first time, you’ve been stood up.

He’d been training with All Might and didn’t have his phone. So when he sees the texts, he’s instantly on his way to shower and get dressed.

But when he arrives, the waiter tells him that you’ve just left.

Determined to make it up to you, he tries to find you. You couldn’t have gone far.

Sure enough, you’re sitting on a bench in a nearby park, listening to the trickling water from a nearby fountain.

“(Y/n)!” Deku calls for you. You turn at your name and sigh when you see it’s Deku. 

“Let me guess. You were training?” You could smell the fresh shower gel on him. You stood up to meet him.

“I was, I got my times mixed up.”

“I waited for an hour. You didn’t think to check your phone before starting training?” You ask, obviously hurt at his failure to inform you of the changed schedule.

It was an honest accident, and it felt kind of wrong to be mad, but at the same time, it still hurt.

“It was an accident!” Deku threw his hands up to try and explain but you flinched out of instinct. It wasn’t an instinct that Deku was going to hit you, but the instinct of fists coming at you. Something you’d just picked up from sparring matches.

“I-(Y/n). I’m sorry. I should’ve double-checked. Can you forgive me?” Deku quickly brought his hands down, lowering them and wrapping them around your waist to bring you in for a hug. 

You wrapped your arms around him and snuggled into his touch.

“I’m sorry too. I overreacted.” You owed him an apology. And it was accepted, as well as Deku’s apology.

“We can reschedule the booking at the restaurant-”

“Takeout and cuddling sounds a lot better than that fancy place. Besides this top is itchy.” You smile, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Sounds good with me. More time to spend with you.” Deku places a kiss on your forehead before placing his hand in your own to lead you back to U.A.

»»————-　★　————-««

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