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thewintersoldierdisaster · 8 months

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a/n: i played myself on this one. posted that little barzy blanket thief headcanon post a million years ago and then i had to write this! the pro shop doesn’t sell the themed comfy, which i think it should but whatever. couldn’t resist writing this one and it just got away from me. full disclosure this was written before christmas but i didn’t want to post it in the middle of posting the other christmas fics so i held it back for a little bit! enjoy!!

word count: 6.2k

tw: brief unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, protected sex

summary: mat’s a blanket thief and tries to make it up to you

In theory, the king sized mattress that you’d bought for the new house was meant to stop Mat from stealing all of your blankets in the middle of the night. What with king sized sheets and blankets and comforters to go along with the king sized mattress, the thought was that Mat would have more than enough of his own coverings without having to take yours too.

Wrong. So wrong.

Every night for the first week in the new house, Mat rolls himself into a little burrito of blankets, cocooned up in the warmth that you’re missing. He’s oblivious to it too, which is extra annoying for some reason. It’s not even like he normally sleeps all rolled up in the covers. Usually Mat’s a restless sleeper, all that energy trying to escape even when he’s asleep, and he’s starfished on the mattress or rolling from one side to the other. Only after games or travel days does he pass out like the dead, after, of course, working you into the mattress and making sure you both have at least one orgasm.

For whatever reason lately, even when he’s got an off day, he’s been sleeping like a log, moving only to pull the covers over his shoulders and rolling them around his body.

“Mat,” you hiss his name, pulling at the comforter. He doesn’t budge at all. “Mat!”

If anything, he wraps himself tighter in the blankets.

You let out a frustrated little growl and pull harder, planting your foot flat against his outer thigh, or where you assume his outer thigh is, and kick a little, trying to get some leverage. Mat grunts a little in his sleep and shifts his lower body away from you, taking the blankets with him.

You flop back against your side of the bed, exposed to the elements and freezing. Stupid fucking Mat and his “the bedroom has to be at sixty-five degrees so we get the best possible sleep” arguments. A chill runs down your spine and you scowl to yourself, yanking at the little bit of sheet you managed to keep him from taking, wrapping it around yourself and snuggling up close against his back for a little warmth.

The next morning, as usual, Mat’s awake before you and you’ve got the covers back, having subconsciously pulled them over your body when he left the bed. Groaning at the thought of having to leave the warm bed, you drag a hand over your face before slowly getting up and padding to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. Feet shoved into Ugg slippers that have seen better days and pulling a sweatshirt over your head, you make your way down to the kitchen where you find Mat making himself eggs at the stove. You lean a hip against the kitchen island, watching him for a few minutes, the way his muscles work as he’s cooking, bare back displayed just for you. His sweats hang low on his hips and you want to press your hands against his lower back.

“Staring’s rude, Squeaks,” he says on a laugh. Without turning from the stove, he gestures to the counter with the spatula in his hand, “coffee’s hot.”

“Stealing all the blankets from your poor frozen girlfriend is also rude,” you reply deadpan, reaching up for your favorite mug and pouring yourself a generous serving of coffee. You doctor it up with sugar cookie flavored creamer and wrap your hands around the ceramic to warm them up before taking a sip.

Now he turns to face you and his eyes go wide and his eyebrows lift up his forehead. “Ah, shit. I’m still doing that even with the bigger bed?”

“Mhm,” you confirm with a roll of your eyes. “I’d say we should upgrade to a California King, but you’d probably keep doing it.” An amused smirk plays on your lips and Mat grimaces.

He sets the spatula down and flips off the burner before coming over to stand in between your legs. You keep your mug held up by your chest as a barrier. “I’m sorry, babe,” he brushes the tip of his nose against yours. His hands fall to your hips, sliding up underneath the fabric of your sweatshirt. His palms are warm and rough against your skin and you shiver a little. His hands slide up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts and you can’t help yourself from pushing your chest further into his hands. “You should’ve woken me up, I would’ve given you the blankets back.”

A startled laugh bursts out of your mouth and Mat looks briefly offended. The pads of his thumbs freeze on your nipples.

“What?” He asks, flicking a nipple with his fingernail. You press your thighs together. “I can share.”

“If you,” you start, stuttering a little as Mat’s fingers roll over your nipples, “think that it’s just that easy to wake you up, you’re delusional.”

Mat huffs a laugh and you yelp when he pinches down hard. The menace. He knows he’s a heavy sleeper. You reach behind you to set your coffee mug down on the counter, afraid that the hot brew is going to spill everywhere. “Aw, come on,” he teases, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, “it’s so easy to wake me up.” His hands continue their work under your sweatshirt and you feel your panties growing damp.

“Mmm?” You hum, letting your knee rub up against the outside of Mat’s thigh slowly, opening yourself up to him. “I kicked you twice and not even a peep.” Your hands come up to lock around Mat’s neck. Your fingers play in the shirt bristles of Mat’s hair and you wish, not for the first time in months, that he would let his hair grow in again.

He lets his hands slide down your sides again, one over your stomach and one around your back. “Your mistake,” he says, pulling you closer so your core is flush up against the hard ridge of his erection. You grind against him mindlessly, tension building low in your stomach, already forgetting why you were annoyed. “I don’t respond to kicking,” his hand works its way underneath your sweats and grabs a palmful of your ass. The other hand remains frustratingly warm against your lower stomach, the tips of his fingers just barely brushing against the elastic of your panties. “Gotta be nicer to me, baby.”

“Oh yeah?” You breathe, wiggling against him, scratching your nails absently against his scalp. “What do you suggest?”

“I dunno,” he shrugs, kneading your ass with one hand. “Could’ve wrapped that pretty mouth around my dick.”

Fire pools in your stomach even as you giggle. “And how would I have penetrated that cocoon of blankets you stole?” You ask tartly, raising an eyebrow. Before Mat can answer, you continue, “besides, blow jobs are a reward for good boys.”

Mat’s ears go pink, but he smirks at you. “Just like getting your pussy licked is for good girls?”

Your cheeks heat and arousal floods between your legs, a little gasp punching from your lungs. You try to press your thighs together, but Mat’s hand is lightning fast, sliding under the band of your panties and cupping you in one warm, broad palm. You squeal at the sudden contact, grinding down onto his hand. “Maaat,” you whine his name, his fingers stroking gently between your folds, teasing at your entrance. He uses his grip on your ass to drag you closer to his chest and you allow him, knees feeling weak as his fingers play with you.

Your hands drift down to his biceps, gripping them for dear life to keep you upright. “Stop teasing,” you hiss, the tip of his middle finger sliding inside of you. You clench around him, chasing his hand and your pleasure.

“So fucking wet, babe,” Mat grins, dropping his forehead to yours. His hand never stops moving, drawing you closer to the peak of your pleasure. “So good for me.”

All the blood in your body rushes to your cunt at the praise and your back is arching, pressing Mat’s fingers deeper. He holds the pad of his thumb firmly over your clit and squeezes your ass, slanting his mouth over yours to muffle the moan that escapes when he rubs against your clit. Your toes curl in your slippers and your head falls back, legs trembling with the force of your orgasm as it washes over you. Mat’s fingers guide you through the aftershocks for a few lazy moments and you drop your chin to your chest, breathing hard.

“Why was I mad at you?” You mumble, laughing breathlessly. You wiggle your hips, starting to get overstimulated and uncomfortable with Mat’s hand still down the front of your panties. He takes the hint and pulls his hand out of your pants. His fingers are wet with your arousal as they brush against your lower stomach and you shiver happily.

Casually, he sticks his middle and ring fingers in his mouth to suck them clean, releasing them with a wet pop. “‘Cause I steal blankets,” he replies, without really thinking. He realizes his mistake a beat later, hazel eyes going wide and jaw dropping open. “Aw, fuck. If I haul you up on the counter and eat you out will you forget I said that?”

“Nope!” Your giggle turns into a shriek as you try to escape Mat’s lunging hands. He digs his fingers into your sides, tickling you mercilessly. “Nooo! Mat! Stop! No tickling-“

“Gonna make you forget about the blankets one way or another,” Mat laughs, holding your squirming body tightly. Your ass presses against his crotch and he hisses, biting gently on your shoulder.

“Never! If I forget, you’ll just steal them again,” your words are stuttered from laughter and you fight Mat’s hands. He’s stronger and manages to wrestle you to the kitchen floor, pinning your wrists above your head, straddling your lap, knees on either side of your hips. His sweats ride low and the chain around his neck sways with the momentum. His cock bobs behind his sweats and you swallow harshly. Mat grins down at you, flattening his body to yours, his cock pressing insistently against your stomach. He kisses the edge of your jaw as you wiggle under him.

“You look pretty warm to me,” Mat teases, rolling his hips against yours. The hard heat of his erection makes your thighs tremble.

You wrinkle your nose at him, fully aware that he has the upper hand in your positioning. “You’re going to be late to practice,” you say, even as your hips lift to his subconsciously.

“Always plenty of time to fuck my girl silly,” he says lightly, bumping his cock against your cunt again. “As long as she forgives me for being a blanket thief.”

“Mmm,” you whine, heat prickling up your spine, “you’re forgiven. Just…I need you.”

Mat’s teeth scrape at your jaw and one hand lets go of your wrists, moving between your bodies and tugging your sweats and panties down in one swift move. The cold kitchen tile against your bare ass has you yelping and instinctively bucking your hips off the ground, up into Mat’s hips. He soothes a hand over your inner thigh before pulling his sweats down enough to free his cock. You crane your neck to look down at him, grinning when you see the tip of him, groaning when he bumps it against your clit. Shocks of pleasure ripple through your body and you whine again, heels kicking against the floor, dripping for him.

“Gonna give you everything, ‘kay?” Mat mumbles, gripping the base of his cock and guiding it to your entrance, letting the tip slip inside of you. His head falls forward on a groan and you grind down on him, trying to get more.

“Just not - can’t come inside,” you babble, bucking your hips up into his. “Not without a condom.”

“I’ll pull out,” he promises and you know he means it. You’re on birth control and neither of you is ready for kids. “Gotta fuck you good. Make you come on my cock and gonna finish in your mouth.”

His words are punctuated with harsh thrusts that have your back sliding against the floor. Your free hand roams Mat’s body, scratching against his chest and arm, fingers tangling briefly in the chain around his neck. You egg him on, reaching down to dig your nails into his hips. “C’mon, Mat. Harder, please!” You beg, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“Fuck. Fuck, so good. You’re so perfect, baby,” Mat grunts, leaning down to kiss you and changing the angle so he hits harder and deeper inside of you. “Gonna fuck you everywhere in this house. Every wall, every floor.”

Your body tenses up with pleasure, gasps and moans leaving your lips along with Mat’s name. Your orgasm builds heavy and fast in your stomach, clit throbbing from the drag of Mat’s pelvis against the swollen, sensitive nub. “Gonna - Mat, please!” You cut off in a wail when his free hand finds your clit and pinches it, sending you over the edge of pleasure, sparks dancing in your vision, arousal leaking from your cunt down the curve of your ass. Your hand slaps against the floor, fingers scrabbling for purchase as he continues fucking into you, the hard, hot drag of his bare cock making you stupid.

Mat’s hips continue pistoning into yours and you’re faintly aware of the slapping of skin against skin underneath his babbling. “Jesus, so fucking pretty when you come. Love that face, love that I made you make that face,” the words fall from his mouth without him even focusing on them, too busy working his cock in and out of you.

You watch his shoulders tense up, feel his thrusts falter a little and you know he’s close. “Mat, not - no baby,” you remind him, pushing at his shoulder, hand slipping down to his chest, stomach, hip.

“Fuck,” he groans, pumping into you once more before pulling out completely, the sudden loss of him inside of you leaving you feeling too empty. You slide your own hand from his hip and let your fingers skate over your clit lazily, not really working yourself towards another orgasm, but just easing the empty feeling. Mat’s hand grips the base of his cock, jacking himself once, twice, three times before his entire body goes taut and he comes all over your sweatshirt covered chest, too far gone to even give you a chance to try and get your mouth on him. “Sorry, baby, sorry. I’ll buy you a new one. I couldn’t—“ he mutters around the groans and slick sounds of his palm sliding over his cock.

When he’s done, the hand holding yours above your head loosens and Mat flops down onto his back next to you. His cock is softening against his thigh and you have a literal puddle of his cum warming your skin through the material of your sweatshirt. Your ass is cold against the tile, wet where your arousal had dripped down the curve. You roll your neck and look at Mat, watching his chest heave while he catches his breath. His cheeks are pink from exertion and his limbs are completely limp.

“We’re disgusting,” you comment on a laugh, afraid to move.

“Why didn’t you say the tile was so cold on your ass?” Mat replies, lifting his hips so he can pull his sweats back up. You watch with a little pout as his cock disappears under the sweats, a little wet spot forming and turning the fabric a darker grey.

“I was a little busy getting railed on the kitchen floor,” you deadpan. “That I’m going to have to clean with, like, bleach now.”

Mat rolls onto his side, props his head up on his elbow, and gives you such a mischievous, shit-eating grin that you kick out your foot to make contact with his shin. “What’s with that look?” You comment, wiggling your sweats back up over your lower body. He whines a little.

“Just thinking about how hard up we were that I had to fuck you on the floor,” he laughs, his fingers coming over to tug on a piece of your hair.

“If anyone hears about this,” you warn, half-joking, half-serious, “I swear to God that I will never give you a blowjob again.”

A laugh startles out of his chest and Mat promises he won’t say anything, defends himself that he doesn’t usually talk about your sex life with the guys anyway.

“That includes Beau,” you warn him, carefully wiggling into a sitting position, wincing when Mat’s cum slides down your chest and pools in the fabric of gathered on your lap. “This is so gross, Mat.”

“He’s my best friend!” Mat yelps. “I tell him everything.” You whip your head in his direction, eyes wide and mouth dropped open a bit. There is no way Beau knows everything about sex life. Mat backtracks, his hands up in surrender, “not everything. I didn’t mean everything. He knows a lot, but not about the time we almost killed each other in the shower or the time I almost —“

You clap a hand over his mouth, muffling his ramble. “Enough. Oh my god. You seriously need to get a filter,” you can’t help the little disbelieving laugh that works its way out of your mouth. Shaking your head, you mutter to yourself, “to think this all started because you’re a fucking blanket thief.”

Mat opens his mouth under your hand to defend himself and you can physically see him gearing up for a long ramble, so you shake your head. “No, nope. Go get yourself cleaned up for practice. I need to get myself in a completely different headspace for the day,” you laugh. “Fucked on the kitchen floor was not how I pictured my week starting.”

Mat licks your palm so you’ll pull it away from his face. You grimace at him and wipe your hand on his bare chest, the faint smattering of dark hair over his chest tickling your skin. “Don’t say that’s gross, Squeaks,” he teases, leaning in to kiss you, “I’ve had my tongue all over that body.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “it’s the principle of the licking. Now leave me, I have to figure out how to get this sweatshirt off without making more of a mess and it’s not going to be cute.”

He laughs at you and gets to his feet, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. “Whatever you want, babe. I’ll be back down in a few to finish making breakfast.”

You’d almost forgotten that Mat had been cooking when you came downstairs. Thank God he’d turned off the stove. As he heads back upstairs, you drop back onto your back, arms spread out to your sides. What a fucking morning.

——-

Mat’s out of town for a few days, a mini road trip that has him gone from your bed for nearly a week, and so you get the bed and blankets all to yourself. You’ve more or less forgotten about Mat’s thieving habits when you have the thick comforters wrapped securely around your body.

So when Mat comes home on a Saturday afternoon, lugging a giant shopping bag along with his suitcase and duffel bag, you’re a little curious and a lot confused.

“Plane snacks?” You tease after accepting a hello kiss from him.

“Those didn’t even make it out of the Tampa airport,” he grins, setting the bag on the couch. “This is even better.”

You lean over the back of the couch and watch as Mat pulls a blue and orange something out of the bag. He shakes it out and you recognize it as the extra long Islanders-logo patterned, hooded Comfy that’s being sold in the pro shop at the Northwell rink. Mat holds it out in front of him with a little “ta-dah!” and a big, cheesy grin on his face.

“What is that?” You ask rhetorically, hand reaching out of its own accord to touch the fleecy fabric. It’s soft, you’ll give him that.

“It’s one of those Comfy things, for you to wear when I steal blankets,” he laughs. “I haven’t forgotten what happened last week.”

Instinctively, your gaze cuts to the spot on the kitchen floor that you’d scrubbed three times with bleach. Mat’s eyes follow yours and his grin turns into a feral little smirk. “Haven’t forgotten that either,” he continues. “But try it on.”

“This is ridiculous,” you say, grabbing for the hooded blanket. Pulling it over your jeans and t-shift, your voice is muffled, “you could always just stop making a cocoon out of the blankets - oh!”

It’s extremely soft, the Comfy. The hood is oversized enough that the hem of it flops over your eyes, obscuring your view of Mat, and keeping your head nice and warm. The sleeves hang a few inches past your hands and the bottom of it comes to your mid-shin. It’s like wearing a space heater. You wrap your arms around yourself and sway a little, giggling.

“I actually love this?” You can’t believe it. There’s so much room and you know that if you were sitting on the couch you could tuck your legs up under the fabric and still have plenty of space. “Okay, we still have to train you not to steal blankets, but this is a nice temporary solution.”

Mat’s laugh is delighted and you flip back the hood to look at him. “You’re adorable in that,” he says, coming around the back of the couch to get into your personal space. “Gonna share with me?”

“Absolutely fucking not,” you giggle, dancing away from him, the fleece swishing around your legs. “This is my reward!”

“For what?” Mat cocks an eyebrow at you.

“Putting up with you,” you retort, hands on your hips, knowing you look insane in your new getup.

Mat grabs for the fabric, snagging it between two long fingers and pulling you into him. “Babe,” he kisses your cheek, “you give just as good as you get.”

You cuddle up against his chest, head tucked under his chin and arms wrapped around his waist. “Missed you,” you mumble into his shirt.

“Missed you too,” his arms tighten around your back. “How about we do something fun tonight? I’ll take you out for dinner too.”

——-

The Comfy works wonders even though Mat continues to steal the blankets. More often than not, you’re wearing the giant hoodie to bed, tucking your legs up underneath and curling up in a little ball.

Mat loves the stupid thing too - if you’re wearing it while laying on the couch, he’ll crawl up underneath it too, laying on top of you, chest to chest, like a giant weighted blanket. The head hole isn’t quite big enough for both of you, so usually the top of Mat’s head is bumping up against your chin while he rests his cheek against your chest, groping and mouthing at your breasts.

“It’s hot under here,” he complains, voice muffled. He’s kneading one of your breasts in his giant hand, lazily grinding his half-hard cock against your thigh.

“The Comfy is only meant for one person,” you sigh. You’re getting sweaty and worked up from Mat’s body heat. “It’s a giant fleece blanket, what did you expect?”

“Dunno,” Mat says against your shirt, licking your nipple through the thin cotton. You arch your back, pressing your breast into his mouth. “Wasn’t really thinking.”

He bites the underside of your breast and you wince, even as a spark of pleasure fires low in your stomach. You’re surprised that you don’t have a permanent mark there - Mat’s a biter.

“Story of your life, Mathew,” you murmur affectionately. “How about I take the portable sauna off and you fuck me into the couch properly?”

Still under the Comfy, Mat tries to sit up, gets tangled in the fabric and before you know it, you’re both falling off the couch and landing on the floor in a pile. Your knee drives into Mat’s thigh, your elbow in his stomach and he grunts with pain. Your head takes a glancing hit to the edge of the coffee table and you see stars briefly. “Fuck,” you drag the curse out for a few extra seconds. Mat’s wiggling underneath you, trying to get out from the confines of the fabric.

“Are you okay?” You ask, trying to roll off of him and help pull the fabric away from his body. Mat’s face is bright red, but he looks okay.

“No one can ever know about that,” he says seriously.

You laugh and he breaks, cracking up too. “How about we never discuss our sex life outside of the relationship cone of silence?” You hold out your hand for him to shake.

“Deal,” he shakes your hand once, snorting a laugh. He leans up into a sitting position. “Can I still fuck you into the couch?”

“I think I’d be kind of insulted if you didn’t,” you pull the Comfy over your head and toss it off to the side before crawling into Mat’s lap so you can wind your arms around his neck and kiss him deeply. Mat’s hands roam up your back, under your shirt, pulling you closer to him. You rock your hips, grinding down over his cock and Mat moans into your mouth. He braces one arm around your lower back and gets up on his knees to lift you onto the couch, pressing you back into the cushions. He settles into the cradle of your hips, your thighs coming up to wrap around his waist, ankles crossing at his lower back.

He grinds his cock against your cunt and you whine into his mouth, breaking the kiss to say, “want it hard and fast, Mat. Don’t be sweet, just fuck me hard, okay?”

Mat’s pupils are blow so wide you can’t see any of his hazel irises. He nods like a bobble head, “yeah, fuck yeah, baby. Whatever you need.”

He makes quick work of your pants, leaning back on his knees to get both of you bare from the waist down. His jaw goes slack when he sees just how wet you are for him, his hands holding your thighs open so he can just stare for a bit. “Jesus,” he mutters and your cheeks warm. You kick at the back of his thigh, startling Mat.

“If you don’t get a condom on in the next thirty seconds,” you say, fighting past the blush that’s heating your entire body, “I can’t guarantee that I won’t just take matters into my own hands.”

Mat laughs hoarsely and springs into action, reaching for one of the little side drawers on the coffee table. A strip of condoms is hidden away there just for times like these. Your hands are already sliding down your stomach to tease at your throbbing clit. Mat catches sight of you and smacks your hands away, the condoms in his other hand. “Oh no way,” he growls. “I still have twenty seconds.”

You laugh and start a little countdown, making Mat’s fingers fumble on the foil wrappings. He scowls at you and shifts so one knee is pressed firmly against your cunt. You break off into a surprised moan, head thrown back against the couch cushion, “Mat!”

He shifts his knee, moving it slightly so your throbbing clit catches against his leg hair and you whine, grinding down harder on him. “You’re not gonna touch yourself,” he warns, finally getting the condom open and rolled down his straining erection, “are you, baby?”

“No, no,” the words stutter out of your chest as Mat keeps moving his knee against you. Your hands fly out to clutch the couch cushions and Mat grins down at you.

“This pussy’s mine,” he says, planting one foot on the floor and keeping one knee bent on the couch so he can stabilize himself. You whine at the loss of contact from your cunt, but the noise gets choked off in the next second when Mat grabs your hips and thrusts into you in one swift punch of his hips. His hips smack against yours as he bottoms out and you cry his name in a babble of breathless chants.

“Told you,” he grunts, pumping into you and using his grip on your hips to push and pull you closer, your ass hitting high up on his thighs. “Mine, fucking mine.”

Your legs lock around his hips, thighs trembling, heels pushing against the top of his ass. “Oh - god, more! Mat!” Your fingertips turn white from how hard you’re grabbing at the couch cushions, your body sliding up with the force of Mat’s thrusts. Your breath hiccups out of your lungs, fire burning in your veins. Every hit of his cock against your g-spot has you screaming his name.

“Fucking -“ Mat grunts, jaw slack as he watches where his cock splits you open, disappearing into your soaked cunt. “Gorgeous. Fucking all for me, baby.”

You need more, just a little more to push you over the edge. Mat usually pays attention to your clit, helping you finish, but he’s pounding into you hard and fast, just like you asked, so you reach a shaking hand down and circle your fingertips around your clit, arching your back with the added stimulation. Mat growls over you and bats your hand away, not stopping his pace.

“Told you no touching,” he huffs, pulling your hips flush against his and holding you there, his cock throbbing inside of your cunt. “Ask for it, baby.”

Tears slip out of the corners of your eyes and trail down your temples. You whine, “wanna touch my clit, Mat. Need it.”

Instead of touching you, Mat’s hands tighten on your hips and circle them slowly over his cock, your clit pressed tightly against the dark hair at his base, making you moan, eyes squeezed shut hard enough for you to see stars.

“Come on, baby,” Mat mumbles, watching you fall apart. “Come for me, gonna make you cum. Right here on my cock.” He pulls his hips back, all but the tip of him leaving your body and you babble at him, trying to grab at his wrists to pull him back in. “Who’s gonna make you cum?” He asks, snapping his hips back against yours, harsh and fast.

“You!” You wail, dragging out the word for several seconds, barely breathing as Mat bullies the orgasm from your body, holding your hips to his as you clench around him, shaking in his grip. Pleasure loosens all of your limbs as you gush around Mat, crying his name.

He strokes his thumbs over your hipbones and pumps into you a handful more times, but you’re barely aware of him filling the condom with a shout of your name, your head fuzzy with post-orgasm haze. Mat breathes heavily over you, slumping slightly to the side as he finishes, loosening his grip on you. You blink sleepily up at him, a lazy, satisfied smile forming on your lips. “What?” He asks, voice raspy and smoky.

“Just really like your face,” your smile turns a little wicked, “‘specially when you’re cumming.” You wrangle your features into a caricature of his orgasm face. “Looks like this.”

Mat pinches your hip and pulls out of you, wincing when he takes the condom off and ties off the end. “Yeah? Yours looks like this,” he throws his head back dramatically, squeezes his eyes shut, and drops his mouth open, letting his tongue flop out like he’s a corpse on a terrible soap opera.

You bark a laugh, kicking at him. “I do not!”

“Do too,” Mat grins, leaning down to cup your jaw and kiss you with tongue and teeth. “Good thing I think you’re the fucking hottest woman on the planet.” He climbs off the couch to toss the condom and you watch his ass as he walks away. It should literally be a crime to have an ass that tight. Your clit gives a pathetic little throb as you watch him, used and abused but so ready to go another round. You slip a hand between your legs, rolling the swollen nub between your fingers gently.

“Can we implement like naked weekends around here?” You ask, popping your head over the back of the couch. Mat’s laughter echoes through the kitchen.

“You know I’m never gonna say no to that,” he replies, and then in the next second, his t-shirt is flying through the air and landing on your head. “In fact, let’s start now.”

——-

You get in late from girls’ night - it’s close to one in the morning - and you know Mat’s asleep. He’d texted you around midnight, a typo-filled message that essentially said he was going to bed, but if you wanted to wake him with a blow job he wouldn’t be opposed to it. You’d snorted a laugh at the message, hiding your screen from the other girls while you typed back a definitive no. He’d replied with a pouting selfie that you ignored. You figure he’d gone to bed shortly after that since the boys have a game later in the day.

The house is dark when you get home, just a few of the under cabinet lights on in the kitchen so you don’t trip on anything.

You make your way slowly up to your bedroom, unsteady on your feet, discarding your shoes and clothes as you go. All you want to do is curl up in bed and pass out.

There’s a lump of blankets on one side of the bed that tells you Mat is passed out under there. Sure enough, when you get closer, you can see one of his bare feet poking out from the bottom of the covers. You smile faintly to yourself, getting rid of the last of your clothes and rummaging around in a drawer for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. The alcohol has your body feeling overly warm so you don’t bother with retrieving your Comfy from the closet. You’ll manage with whatever blankets you can wrestle away from Mat.

The bed is nice and warm from Mat’s body heat and you settle happily on your side of the bed, cricketing your feet a little to really warm things up. Mat hasn’t wrapped himself all up yet, so you scoot closer to him, planning on pressing your chest against his back and spooning him, but instead of feeling bare skin or the cotton of a t-shirt, your fingers are met with a familiar fleecy material.

“What the fuck?” you forget to whisper and your voice is loud and echoes around the room. You squint and pull back the blankets that are partially covering Mat’s head.

The royal blue and orange of the Islanders’ logo comes into view and your jaw drops when it finally clicks that Mat’s wearing your Comfy to bed. The hood is secured over his head and his hands are tucked into the sleeves.

“Oh my god!” You shove at Mat’s shoulder and he startles.

“Hnghh?” He grunts, rolling onto his back, yawning.

“You took my Comfy!” You jab at his arm and Mat’s eyes crack open.

A faint, sleepy smile curves his lips. “Hey, babe,” he mumbles, reaching a hand out for you. “Have fun with the girls?” He stretches, blankets shifting around.

“Don’t ’hey, babe’ me!” You grumble, pulling at the blankets. “You literally gave me that because you take my blankets. Now you take my Comfy?”

Mat yawns again, jaw cracking. He doesn’t look apologetic at all. “It’s warm,” he whines, grabbing your hand to pull you closer. “And it smells like you.”

You go to him despite yourself, scooting over and curling up against his side, tucking your shoulder under his armpit. Your legs brush against his and you frown. “Are you naked in my Comfy, Mathew?” You yelp, pulling at the fleece fabric. “You cannot be serious!”

“I have boxers on!” He laughs in protest, swatting your hands away from him. “I’m not gross.”

“Yes, you are,” you grumble, growing sleepy again. “I want a new one now that you’ve taken this one.”

He slings his legs over yours, arms holding you close as he kisses your forehead. “I can share, Squeaks. I’m a generous boyfriend,” he laughs against your hair. You press closer to his warmth, burying your face in his chest.

“You failed sharing in kindergarten, Mat,” you tease quietly. He slaps your ass gently and you giggle, curling up closer to him.

“So mean to me,” you can hear the pout in his voice. “Definitely not sharing now. Gonna buy my own Comfy.”

——

When Mat comes home from practice three days later, he’s toting another giant bag that he hadn’t left the house with.

You eye it suspiciously and he’s laughing like a lunatic as he pulls out another Comfy, declaring, “we match, Squeaks.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh. You didn’t think he was actually serious about getting his own.

Mat pulls the fabric over his head and does a little twirl for you, holding his arms out. “How do I look?” He asks, striking a dramatic pose, pushing his lips out in an exaggerated duck face.

“Like the hottest oversized fleece hoodie model in the world,” you reply, reaching out to grab the fabric and pull him in for a kiss.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal x you #mat barzal fic #mat barzal imagine

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yanderestarangel · 1 year

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⋆ 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍!𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 ⋆

A/N: He's back bitches, DADDY MIGUEL O'HARA.

SYNOPSIS: Miguel is a 45-year-old man who works in a local library, also giving tutoring classes in literature to the local village community, you decide to go visit him after being on vacation, awakening a side of himself that Miguel didn't know.

TW: Yandere themes, age gap, afab anatomy, betrayal, dark themes, threats, manipulation, smut, au.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA -He leads a peaceful life, always opening the library at 9 am and closing at 9 pm, sometimes staying overtime to look at the landscape outside the large windows, to try to forget his failed marriage with his wife.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who has the same patterns every day, namely: taking both children to school by car, buying the same fruits to eat throughout the day - a few dates, an apple and a bottle of coffee aluminum portable, hot and sugar-free in the dark green side pouch he carries everything he needs for that day -

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - What you see in a boring life, everything was the same, he worked out, went for walks on the weekends, watched the same period films after 11pm, in the same leather armchair that got hot in the uncomfortable summer heat, drinking the same beer while the black and white images of the Hollywood film passed through the lens of his glasses, while he smelled the cold food made by his wife, who as always, had left the children with him and gone out.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who woke up late that day due to the hangover from the several beers he had on Sunday, rushing to drop his children off at school and avoid an argument with his wife early in the morning. He calmly went to the library, after all, there was no one there at that end of the world. But he was wrong. He soon saw you, sitting on the steps of the cold concrete stairs while waiting for someone to open the library, he had never seen you in the community, so it was a surprise for him to see someone so beautiful and different from the routine faces in the village. Miguel got out of the car, adjusting his round glasses, giving you a polite "good morning", his strong accent mixed with the smell of coffee coming from his lips, he opened the library while looking you up and down, he would casually ask you your name and what you do there. You spoke your reasons politely, while explaining that you were on vacation and decided to visit the tourist attractions of that village, such as the lighthouse and rough sea, as well as the large library, which, in addition to needing some literature classes, you two were taking Miguel O'Hara nods and gives a practically invisible sideways shy smile.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who gets excited like a young man when he sees you interested in literature, Miguel would make a point of giving you some books as a gift, explaining about each one, especially if you like gothic literature, such as: Bram Stocker, Marion Zimmer Bradley, Edgar Allan Poe, Bram Stocker - or horror stories, he automatically falls in love if you, speaking excerpts from his favorite stories while pouring you some coffee, sitting in front of him while the two of you did a literary duo circle, the voices echoing through the ancient wood.

"-With a long scrutinizing look at the shadow, which frightens me, which haunts me, And I dream of what no mortal has ever dreamed of, But the vast and silent silence, silent remains; the quiet stillness." -O'Hara reads with a strong, hoarse accent, his voice was raw, reverberating his passion for each verse and word he spoke, holding the book in his thick fingers, now, with the abandonment of the wedding ring he wore, even though he was still married, you didn't need to know that detail.

"-Only you, unique and beloved word, Lenora, you, like a scarce sigh, leave my sad mouth; And the echo, which heard you, whispered to you in space; It was just that, nothing more." -You completed, reading your part in the tale of "The Crow" while feeling the older man's gauze on your body, while Salvatore's hands massaged your bare shoulder, lightly adjusting the clothes you wore, a long and possessive touch.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who offers you a ride home, turning on the radio while asking you everything about yourself, if you were dating, if you had traveled with someone, he expected you to be totally alone, totally for him. Miguel drops you off at home while he says a quick goodbye, but he actually just hides the car in the middle of some trees, looking out your windows, writing down your nighttime habits in a diary - he got home later that night, his wife noticed the delay, but he just made up an excuse, mostly lying that he had lost the ring in a library cleaning, which was a lie, he got rid of the ring in the sea, near the local town port -

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who studied everything about you on the days you two were alone in the library, becomes his refuge. Don't get him wrong, O'Hara loves his children, but he hates coming home and seeing that his marriage is a failure, and that the woman he was once so in love with, young days that passed through his life in long ago, Now she's just a strange and cold woman, but you? You are his treasure, always happy, smiling sweetly, asking if he is okay, or if he has eaten that day, if he needs help with something in his work as a librarian, you are so angelic, so beautiful, so his. You're totally his, aren't you?

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who lies to you about his private life, saying that his wife and he are divorced and he just lets her live close to the children, he lies so naturally that even he himself believes in the madness of his mind.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA- Who finds an excuse to leave you up late with him in the library, telling you about some more books, and giving you a letter, letters that were always sealed in luxurious black paper like an envelope, with a red coat of arms with an 'M' for Miguel, big in the center, he always asked you to open it at home, they were poems and poetry written by him, about you, but each time, with each letter given to you, they became darker, more intense, more... Intimate.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Which makes you sit on his muscular legs that night in the peace of the library, while his big, calloused hands lightly run over your thighs, while he praises you. "-Your skin is soft like the finest and purest silk, your lips are full and shiny with life, your smile is like the epitome of beauty, I look at you and see an angel, not even the richest kings who had harems with several women And men, none of them come close to your beauty, mi angelito, did you know that? Your heart is so pure and beautiful, your soul is practically eradicated from your carnal being." -Miguel spoke hoarsely, as he forced you to look at him, his eyes shone, not only with enlightenment but with love, a sick love for you.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA -He fingers you slowly and lightly, giving you kisses on the head, feeling the smell and softness of your hair, his fingers enter and curve slightly, he was an expert in that, he wanted to make you come, to make you see the stars in the sky pleasure he could give you. Miguel praises you even more when he sees you moaning so beautifully, writhing in his lap, while he whispers in your ear how well you do it, being such a good girl/boy for him, giving yourself to him like that, like you It's beautiful when your pussy tightens around his fingers, how perfect you are when you let your sweet saliva run down your lips like that, while he gives you all the pleasure, making you squirm on his arm full of veins and scars from the time he had, dirtying the papers and reports he signed, but he doesn't fight with you, no my sweet girl/boy, you are his, Miguel just applies a chaste kiss to your temple, salty with the sweat of sexual effort and the heat of lust from your body, while he just said everything was going to be okay.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who was worried when you didn't show up after a few days, so he left work early, seeing you at a local fair. He tried to talk to you, but you were disappointed in him, you had found out he was married, and you felt dirty for giving yourself to him. Miguel O'Hara froze immediately, but he soon recovered his posture, telling you in a serious and cold air that she didn't mean anything to him and you did, but you didn't want to listen, just saying how rubbish he was as a human being and leaving the room. running, hiding in the crowd, he didn't go after you, just walking away with a neutral and serious air, thinking about the next step he would take, and he knew exactly what it would be. He spent every day at your house, placing flowers, chocolates, teddy bears, gifts and books on your doorstep, even if you threw them in the trash, he bought more and more, even more expensive and extravagant. Miguel didn't leave you alone, going to your house every day, even trying to knock on the window, but you didn't pay attention to him, but he didn't care, he wasn't going to give up, he stopped the car every day after his shift from work to look at you,or look at the lighting in your house, where you were, what you were doing, and who you were with.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - That on your last day in the village, he left you a letter, in a red envelope, you didn't want to read it, but your curiosity got the better of you, with you finally reading the content of the man's letter.

My dear, (Y/N) This may sound strange, but I like it when you hide like a scared little bunny, running away from me like that, as if I were a predator? so I am offended my dear. Do you know how far I'm willing to go for you? Do you know exactly what things I can do to try? Do you know the dark thoughts I can carry out with your friends or family? If you gave in. We would be even more than perfect together, we were born to be each other's my love. Just as the sun rises day after day, just as the moon appears in the dead of night. Just as the stars shine in the black sky of the dark and cold night, void of voice. Just as birds spend their lungs in a melodious song, unable to be stopped by foolish men. Just like every natural phenomenon and incapable of being stopped, I will make you mine. just mine. You can try to scream, try to escape or even ignore me, like a mirror covered with a fine linen fabric, I'm still there, watching you, attentive to your smallest details, your flaws, your sins, your darkest, hidden fears. inside your mind, the intimate and core of your most secret suffering... I know everything, I know you more than you know yourself. We are destined to be one, drawn by a happy and unhappy destiny, a piece of the gods perhaps, who are we to question love? In fact, I'll ask you one more time, you love me, right? Just try to say you don't love me... Then I will destroy you... I k-

You didn't even finish reading the letter, hearing heavy footsteps coming from the back door, while you saw a tall figure standing in the dark shadow of the hallway, something dripping on the floor while those familiar and maddened brown eyes stared at you, deep in your soul, Miguel O'Hara.

"-And you know, (Y/N)... you shouldn't leave the door open."

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

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libraryofloveletters · 8 months

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chapter eight: lucky doesn't cover it

Sebastian Vettel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: honeymoon stage, seb is so cheesy and soooo touchy, it's like two teenagers in love really, nsfw themes but nothing graphic, suggestions to sex and nsfw content, liv and millie are so sus of you two, the lies are catching up to you two, secrets are told, family sweetness. - this is low-key a filler chapter, I have drama next chapter *smiles evilly*

Word Count: 3.1k

Author’s Note: sorry for the 4 million year wait, y'all know I love me some seb so hopefully this makes up for the lack of seb lately. don't blame me, tell that man to come out of hiding again!

sugar and spice; all things nice masterlist

---

It has been a few weeks since your first date with Sebastian and things were going well, beyond well actually. You couldn't have asked for a better version of things to unfold.

The two of you had begun dating but decided to keep things quiet, especially from Olivia and Amelia. Neither of you wanted to complicate things for the girls, wanting to keep things as they were in case it didn't work between you two, god forbid.

Liv and Milly were currently in the pool at your place, you had brought lunch out onto the back deck and Sebastian was keeping an eye on them while they were in the pool. The door creaks, Seb glances over his shoulder to see you coming out with a pitcher of juice, setting it down on the table with the food you had brought out moments before.

You leant over slightly, pouring some juice into the cups for the girls when your knee brushes against Seb's thigh. His black shorts left his legs on display and typically, you'd regard his legs as just.. legs but something about Sebastian was different now, you weren't sure if it was because now he was your man or if you had been so pent up and now that you'd getting a chance to release it, it's hitting you at once.

Seb's forearm lays on the arm rest, fingers creeping up the back of your thigh to the hem of your shorts. Almost leaning into his touch, Olivia's voice pulls you from the thoughts in your head.

"Is lunch ready, mama?!" She shouts from the pool.

Clearing your throat, you nod. "Yeah!" You reach behind to swat Seb's wandering hand away, throwing him a glare as you pick up the towels and walk over to help the girls out of the pool.

The man watches as you wrap the towels around the girls, sending them off in the direction of the table to eat and he can't help but smile; how did he ever get so lucky ?

Olivia and Amelia sit across from Seb, the two of them joint at the hip like baby penguins waddling about. The only chair left was the one next to Seb, it had become your usual spot anyways.

The 4 of you chatted, the girls updated you both on class trips, projects and the drama between Susan B and Susan H. Seb was more intrigued than you as you had heard the rundown when you picked them up from school on Friday.

A warm hand rests on your thigh under the table, startling you momentarily. You look over to see if he was trying to get your attention, but he wasn't. "Does Susan B know that Susan H held Josh's hand on the playground?" He asked the girls, clearly caught up in the drama of second grade.

Amelia corrects him. "It was Susan H that held Josh's hand, dad. Susan B was boyfriend girlfriend with Josh first."

"And Susan B saw all of it happen while she was on the swings too," Olivia adds, making sure to emphasize on her words for dramatic effect.

You smile, shaking your head at the second grade drama as your hand rests atop Seb's, fingers interlocking over his. The man squeezes your thigh softly as his thumb rubs gently over your skin.

Lucky doesn't begin to cover it.

"Milly!" Olivia shouts, pulling on your hand as you locked the car. You see the blonde girl and her dad, both of their curls unruly and sparkling under the morning sunshine.

Amelia smiles, shouting back. "Liv!"

Sebastian lets his little girl when he sees you with Olivia, knowing you'd stop them from running into the busy parking lot. The two girls wrapped each other in a hug, Milly says good morning to you and you smile, saying it back. You followed closely behind them as you attempted to put Milly's hair into a ponytail while they walked, knowing they had gym class and having her hair in her face would bother her.

"Good morning, Mr. Seb!" Liv smiles at the man, Seb pinches her cheek softly. "Morning sweet pea," he says back with a smile.

The girls were whispering about something, perhaps the fact that Josh was giggling with Susan H today instead of Susan B. Seb nudges your shoulder, leaning into you slightly. "Morning you."

"Good morning Sebastian," you glance at him, knowing better than to start him up before he doesn't stop.

His hand rests on his chest, feigning hurt. "Sebastian? You wound me, woman."

"I try my best," you smiled, turning your head to look at him. Sebastian leans into you, his lips by your ear. “You look nice. I like your top,” he gestures to his chest, his fingers brushing over his sternum - just as he did months ago when you helped him with Milly's bedroom.

The action causes you to look down, your top had slipped a little bit when you grabbed Olivia's bag out of the car.

You roll your eyes, swatting his arm playfully before readjusting your shirt. "Behave, there are children here."

"There are children at home too, but we've done dirty things there too-" "Dad!" Milly shouts, getting her dad's attention. "Did you put my water bottle in my bag?"

"It's in your lunch bag, kiddo." He tells her, fixing the strap on her bag. "Now you two are gonna be late if you don't get your butts down to line up."

The girls hug each of you, switching to hug the other and then run off to line up for entry. You and Seb waved to them from the sidewalk before you head back to the parking lot, his hand resting on your lower back as you walk. HIs hand slipped lower and lower by the second until you stepped away.

Your back is against the pickup, looking at your boyfriend - that's such a funny term. You didn't think at your age, with a 7 year old kid that you'd have a boyfriend again. It seems unreal to you, both in a good way and a bad way.

"Do you have work today?" He asks, noticing you've taken the truck and not your car.

"Yeah, gotta drop by the construction site today."

"What time are you off?"

"Noon-ish probably, I hope. You know how it goes with them," you shrugged. Seb nods, "the girls are staying at school for lunch today, sooo... why don't you come by after you're done work?"

"Are you gonna cook me lunch then, Sebastian?" You asked, raising an eyebrow. He wasn't a big cook but there were a few recipes that he had perfected and liked to make.

He shrugs, making a face. A hand resting behind your head, caging you in between him and the truck. "Figured we could order from your favourite Italian place."

"As nice as that sounds, you know how slow they are. It'll take them forever to deliver."

Sebastian's got a wicked grin on his face, something dirty on the tip of his tongue just waiting to be said. He leans in, lips by your ear. "There's a way we can pass the time."

If you hadn't gotten what he was suggesting before, his lips on your neck gave it away. "Sebastian!" You giggled, pushing him away. "Stop it before we get in trouble."

"We don't go to school here, it's fine."

"We have kids that go here though, and I have work. I need to go before you make me late."

"You're no fun," he tells you, pouting like a child as you get into the truck, your door still open as you look at him. "Stop pouting, you doofus. Come gimme a kiss so I can go," your hand stretched out for him.

Seb smiles, reaching up to give you a kiss before you let him go. "Have a good day, I'll see you after."

"Drive safe," you tell him, shutting the door. You wind down the window. "Not like a formula one driver!"

"I'll try my best!" He shouts, "no promises!"

You rolled your eyes, smiling as you pulled out of the parking lot.

Clothes scattered on the floor, your heels kicked off on the steps on the way up to Seb's bedroom and your purse long forgotten by the front door.

"C'mere," Seb grabs your arm, pulling your back flush against his chest. His warmth kept you snuggled into him, not wanting to move anytime soon.

"We really do need to get up."

"What for?" He asks, peppering kisses along your shoulder. You roll your eyes, "you ordered food and frankly, I'm starving."

"Yeah?" He says, you can sense the shit eating grin on his face. "Wonder why you're so hungry."

"Oh hush," you reach back, smacking his cheek softly. "I had work, don't think so highly of yourself."

Seb laughs, untangling himself from you when the doorbell rings. "As if you summoned them, honey." He pulls his shorts on, grabbing his wallet off of the nightstand.

You roll over, grabbing his hand. "I have to go," he tells you and you pout, making a face. Seb smiles, leaning down to kiss your head. "I'll be back in two seconds, and I'll have your chicken parm so you'll love me even more."

"Yeah," you chuckled, leaning back. "Fine."

Seb laughs, leaving you in bed to go get the delivery from the guy. You decided that pasta was too messy to eat in bed so you got dressed, meaning you borrowed Seb's shirt and made your way downstairs.

"Sleeping beauty emerges," he jokes and earns another eye roll from you. The two of you find your way to the kitchen, as you do most times, grabbing what you need before making your way to the table.

It was a very domestic scene; sitting at the table, eating as you discussed what the girls had in school that week. As if you had been married for years.

"I have to get dressed," you announce, getting up as Seb took the empty plates to the kitchen. "What for?" He glanced at you, rinsing the plates out to put them into the dishwasher.

"We have to pick up the girls."

"I'll pick them up, you rest."

"You're sure?" You asked and Seb nodded, "100%, you stay and relax." He kisses you softly, hands cupping your cheeks.

You smile and nod, following him to the door. "Where are you going?" Seb asks.

"I'm going to get dressed."

The man looks at you clearly confused, he had already told you to stay and relax and that he would pick up the girls.

"They can't come home to see me wandering around here in just your shirt, they don't need to see that."

"I do," he raises his eyebrows, a cheeky grin on his face. "Sebastian behave," you groaned, rolling your eyes playfully at his childishness. He smiles, putting his hoodie on before grabbing his car keys.

"I'll see you when I'm back," he tells you, giving you a kiss before heading out.

The drive to the school was normal, 5 minutes and he's parked, waiting for the two girls to come out. The teacher sees Sebastian, waving to him as he signals that he's taking both Milly and Liv home today. It's nothing unusual that you and Seb take turns picking up the girls, it's just whoever was free or closer. Most times Seb picks them up as you're usually at work.

Milly's holding one of his hands and Liv is holding the other, the 3 of them walking back to his car. "Mr. Seb? Where's mom?" Liv asks him, the man looks at her puzzled for a moment.

"Uh she's at our place."

Milly and Liv exchange a confused glance as they climb into the car. "What's she doing there?" Milly asks her father, clearly curious.

"Well, she was running late on her way back from work so I told her I'd pick you guys up and meet her at home."

The answer seemed to curb their curiosity for the time being, Seb driving home with the girls. Your truck parked on the road as you were always certain you'd crash into Seb's car if you pulled into the driveway.

The girls were held expecting you to get out of the truck but Seb instead led them to the front door, unlocking it to let them in. "Hi girls!" You called, stepping out of the kitchen. You had gotten redressed while they were gone, much to Sebastian's dismay.

"Hi mama," Liv says, glancing at her best friend. "Mr. Seb said you were running late from work."

"I was," you tell her, glancing at Seb. The man shrugs from behind the girls as if to say he needed an excuse.

Milly or Liv seemed to be buying the lame ass excuse you and Seb - mostly Seb- came up with. "How'd you get inside?" Milly asks you, knowing her dad had just unlocked the front door.

This story wasn't adding up.

Seb clears his throat. "Why don't you two go get a snack, you can have candy if you want. There's Kit Kat in the pantry." He tells them, the girls drop their bags by the stairs and go running to the pantry.

You look behind you to make sure the girls are gone before walking over to Seb. "Really? I'm running late but I'm in the house? You couldn't come up with something better?" You whispered to him.

The man shrugged, "they're like mini detectives, all scary and judgey. I had to say something!" he whisper shouts to you, "we need to tell them."

"Already? It's too soon."

"We're together all the time, babe. I can't keep kissing you in secret." He says, a look feigning exhaust from the lack of kisses on his face.

You sigh, nodding. "Fine," your hand cups his cheek, kissing him softly. "Let's go."

"Girls?!" Seb calls for them, "can you come here? Y/n and I want to talk to you!"

The girls come in, chocolate on their faces and fingers. You grab a tissue and wrap their faces and hands as they sit on the couch, you and Seb are across from them on the other couch. "What is it?" Milly asks, looking between you and Seb.

"Well," you start, looking to see if Seb wants to speak but he signals for you to go ahead; typical men. "How would you two feel if.. Mr. Seb and I started.. well, seeing each other?" You asked them, the girls both have a confused look on their faces.

They exchange a glance, "what does that mean?" Milly asks, her brows furrowed; the splitting image of her father.

"It means they kiss!" Liv tells her, her hand over her mouth as she giggles. Milly makes a face. "Ew! Cooties!" She giggled, her and Olivia making faces at each other.

You and Seb exchange a look, trying not to laugh.

"It does mean we kiss," Seb says, "but it means we like each other."

"Like how we like each other?" Liv asks, "like best friends?"

"Sort of," Seb smiles, "it's more like when two grown-ups really like each other in a special way. They care about each other a lot, like how friends care about each other, but with even more love."

"So super duper best friends," Liv says, making you laugh.

"Basically, yeah. How do you guys feel about that?" You asked, not wanting to leave any stone unturned.

"Does this mean we're.. sisters?" Milly asks, "cause you're Liv's mom and you're my dad so you're mom and dad.."

"I guess," you say, looking at Seb for some help. "I mean, yeah. You are sisters."

The girls giggle, "cool!" They happen to say at the same time and get up, coming over to hug you and Seb. You smile, "we've got to head home, sweetheart. You can come by tomorrow if you want."

She makes a sad face but nods, her and Milly walking to the door to gather Liv's stuff when Seb pulls you up from the couch and into a hug. "See? Was that so hard?"

"Shut up," you huffed, the man laughed as you two walked to the front door.

You watch as the girls hug each other bye, Milly comes over to give you a hug and you lean down to hug her back. Seb kisses Liv's head before turning to you, giving you a kiss.

"Ew!" The girls chorus, making the two of you laugh.

You and Olivia head home, the two of you going about your evening. Liv does her homework while you worked on some work plans and emails, you had dinner together and then both of you did your night time routines before you joined her in her bedroom for story time.

"Mom?" Liv calls for you as you shut the book, setting it on her nightstand. "What is it, kiddo?"

"Does this mean Mr. Seb is my dad?" She asks, leaving you stumped.

You sit there for a moment, trying to figure out how you'd answer her question. "Well, no. He's not your actual dad but you can look at him like your dad if you want."

She nods. "Do I keep calling him Mr. Seb?"

"Yeah, I would think so."

Seb was in a similar situation at his place, Milly had begged him to watch her favourite cartoon instead of story time and Seb caved. The two of them on the couch when she turns to her dad. "If Liv and I are sisters, does this mean auntie y/n is my mommy now?"

It takes him a second to register the question. He can't say yes, because Milly did see pictures of her actual mother, but it's also not a no.

"In a way, yes. She's not your mommy but you can look at her like your mommy, she'll always be there for you."

Milly seemed satisfied with her father's answer, nodding as she turned her attention back to the tv.

---

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the-moonlightwitch-official · 6 months

Text

AINT NO PLACE LIKE "HOME" pt:5

summary: y/n l/n is a 18 year old girl that struggled in school a lot. It all started in kindergarten when her soul marks never appeared, becoming the class joke. But trust me, y/n’s life never got any easier when the marks did finally appear.

WARNING: MINORS DNI 18+, student x teacher, mentions of burning, scars, bullying, polyamorous, yandere, yandere themes, kidnapping, murdering, nsfw, DELUSION, violence.

THIS IS GOING TO BE LONG.

Great, everyone believes you're dead now. The look of absolute dread on your face never went unnoticed by the trio. They don't care, the hard part is over with now. You look down at the chain wrapped around your ankles and grab the chain to play with it, while thinking about izuku and everything that happened at the hotel. It happened too fast, way too fast. They knew exactly where you were in a drop of a dime. But how? Is izuku ok? What about my mom?

“Seems the hard part is over with now huh”? You keep your head down as a pair of bare feet come into view. You hold the chain tighter and run your thumb over it. “Aw not talking to your favorite person?” the words of the man going in one ear and out the other. Refusing to grace them with your eyes as you stared at the ground. They seemed bummed out that you didn't speak nor look at him. So he crouched down into your view and rested his arms on his knees. His long blond hair falling over his muscular shoulders as he leans towards you, his green irises peering at you through his glasses. It's Hizashi.

You’ve never seen him in normal glasses before. He looks good, too good. You never noticed him without the apron either, he must’ve taken it off when you weren't paying attention. The half naked muscular man in tight pink boxers making you blush. You averted your eyes before he

notices you looking too hard, can't let him have what he wants.

He huffed and tilted his head. He raised a hand to caress your face and gently rub his thumb over your jawline. You closed your eyes as he admired you like a hungry and greedy man. He gripped your jaw and gently forced your head to look in his direction. “Look at me.” you closed your eyes tighter and forced your head out of his hand. In return he rolled his eyes and spoke with patience.

“Everythings gonna be fine ok, we got this. You’ll be grateful soon enough. There's plenty of food to eat and room to run around in.” you opened your eyes and looked at him disgusted that he was talking to you like you were some animal in a cage. “Hey and maybe if you behave you can go outside. With supervision of course.” he smiled at you, the light practically beaming off of his perfect pearly whites. You felt a wave of emotions rising in you as you contemplated violently knocking his perfect teeth out of his mouth. You both turned your heads when a voice cut in.

“have the cameras been set up yet”? Shota asks while walking past to make himself some coffee in the kitchen. All the violent thoughts in your head have been halted.

Jesus he’s fine as fuck. You watch as he walks past with pure lean muscle from head to toe, tight black boxers, and long black hair flowing with his movement, he looked almost like a god. Hizashi notices you watching sho as he walks past you guys all the way to the kitchen.

Hizashi smirks at you as he stands up and responds to him “not yet, but later today the team is gonna come back and finish up the work to set up the cameras and all that.” he said while walking towards shota who was pouring piping hot coffee into his favorite gray mug, that no one else is allowed to use. The steam rising from the mug looks hypnotizing as he pours it. He gently places the coffee pot back into its place, before taking a sip of the piping hot liquid.

You can't seem to understand why he likes his coffee that way, hizashi can't either.

No cream or sugar, just black coffee. That's how he liked it, simple. Toshi used to drink it like that as well, but ever since his incident with one for all leaving that wound, doctors advise him not to drink any heavily caffeinated drinks. If he wishes to enjoy a cup, it must be sparingly.

You can’t help but stare mesmerized as your soon to be fiance shota leaned against the counter. Abs flexing as he crosses his muscular arms over his chest while holding the steaming cup of coffee. His hair is a long black mess falling over his shoulders. You honestly wouldn’t mind giving your virginity to him, especially when he looked like that under his clothes. you secretly favored him over the others. But you are upset with him for what he did to Izuku. Your attention was broken when Hizashi snapped his fingers and looked at shota with excitement. “Guess what?” shota looked up at him with tired dead eyes “what”.

“ I know we were trying to be smart with our money considering the plan and all, but I did pay extra for extremely strong glass. Y’know for all the windows and mirrors, and even the glass doors, y’know for extra security.” He said as he walked to the kitchen window and knocked on it. “She ain’t gonna break this bad boy. Theyre gonna install all of it today.” shota nodded impressed and responded after taking another sip. “Good purchase.”

toshinori got up off of the couch and made his way over to you “where are we going to put her, while they’re here?”

Hizashi looked over at the clock on the wall knowing they’re gonna be here in a couple of hours. “Shit your right.” he clicked his teeth with his tongue while thinking. “Well they pretty much finished installing her room yesterday, could put her up there, and you could keep her company while I work down here with the team.” hizashi said to toshi while looking up at you with his hands on his hips.

Toshi nodded in agreement. “Well I gotta get going, gotta work.” shota cut in while setting his finished coffee cup on the counter. He pecked hizashi and toshi on the lips as he disappeared upstairs. Hizashi looked at toshi. “I gotta head to work after the team leaves, can you handle her?'' Toshi looks at you and smiles “of course, she's a good girl. Except for the fight from yesterday.'' Hizashi looked down at you remembering the fight. “Gonna have to work extra hard for my forgiveness, " he said while massaging the bruise on his calf. You looked up at him confused and disgusted. “What's that supposed to mean?”

Hizashi smiled at you sweetly and seductively '' Anything you want it to mean sunshine. alright i'm gonna go put some clothes on”. He said as he stood up straight and patted you on the head and disappeared up the same stairs as his husband.

Toshi walked over to you bending down to start undoing your chains. “BEHAVE” he said as he stared into your soul. He wore a black shirt and gray sweatpants. Not as attractive as the others, also never thought he would wear that either. He grabbed your arm and helped you up before gathering the chains and guiding you down a hallway and into your new room that's right beside his.

So hizashi and sho’s rooms are upstairs. There's apparently a bunch of rooms with bathrooms but they chose your room to be one without one, since they would want you to use one of theirs with supervision. The bedroom was honestly beautiful. The bed, the lights, the curtains, the decor, you even have a tv. No wonder everyone leaves the decorating to hizashi.

“Do you need to use the restroom?” he asked, looking down at you while holding your arm and tossing the chains onto the bed. “No”. It was a lie, and a big one. But you know that he would stand in there with you. “Alright then” he said as he picked you up and placed you on the bed. “What are you doing?” you asked as he started wrapping the chains around your ankles again.

“What's necessary, especially after yesterday.” After he wrapped you up he grabbed the television remote and laid down next to you. “What do you wanna watch” you huffed and turned over. “Nothing.” toshinori rolled his eyes and turned on a sitcom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After half an hour you heard a couple of knocks on your door before it creaked open. Shota walked in dressed in his hero suit. He kissed toshi before walking to the other side of the bed to lean over you and peck your forehead with his lips. You pretended to be asleep. Sho knew that was bullshit. But he couldn't help but admire you as he ran his scared fingers through your hair. The memories of his horrific act with the clone, clouding his mind. Your “funeral” is also today. He’s gotta look nice at the funeral that's going to be broadcasted on national television. Toshi is supposed to be there, but he can't so sho will make an excuse for him.

His mind raced with thoughts as he began to caress your face gently as if you were made of glass and would break. You're here, and you're safe, that's all that matters to him. He bent down one last time to peck your lips before heading off to work. His lips were warm and minty. He must have put on some chapstick. It sadly made you crave more. Without thinking you chased his lips when he pulled away. He looked down at you surprised before dipping back down. He connected his lips with yours again. You were shocked that you did that. But his lips feel good. It felt like a comfort you never knew you needed. He pulled away and smiled at you. “I gotta head out, ok?” he said. You looked away ashamed of what you did. He waved at toshi before walking out.

You stared at the ceiling as you heard him walking through the house and out of the front door. Hearing his car drive off before deciding to look over at toshi who had his reading glasses on while playing a crossword puzzle out of a book. Good lord. You heard more knocking on the door and looked over, and in came the boisterous blond. He was wearing a white shirt and black sweatpants as well with his Long blond hair in a bun. He smiled brightly at you and toshi. “Doesn’t this room look beautiful? I had it done specifically to your preferences sweetheart.”

you looked confused then scanned the room. He was right, your favorite colors and animals and posters. Everything down to a T, and you never noticed. But how could he know? He never saw your room….right?

Little did you know that his obsession with you is stronger than the other two’s. It got so bad that he was getting up in the middle of the night, and sneaking out of the house without waking his husband to go to your home and sneak into your window undetected to watch you sleep. There's been many nights where he slept in the same room with you without you knowing.

Even went as far as to unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants, watching as his rock hard length sprung into the cool air with a red hot tip dribbling pre cum. He rubbed one out as he stood at the foot of your bed.

He even used your lotion. Precum flying everywhere as he thrusted into his fist roughly at the end of your bed. Loud slick sounds bounced off the walls as he picked up the pace and tightened his fist. He picked up a pair of used panties off the floor to catch his cum as it spurted out. He breathed heavily as he looked up at you after cumming. Smiling like a dork. Thinking to himself that he wishes that you could watch him do that. He has a kink for his partners watching him touch himself. If only you could see how big and long he was, how he could satisfy you and hit every spot inside of you, making you scream, as your ass bounced off his dick.

But that information stays with him until the day he dies. But just know that he definitely has seen your room more than enough times. “It's awesome right?” he said looking at you expectantly. You looked around trying not to get creeped out. “Sure” he frowned at the simple, small uninterested answer. Before he could say anything else. You all heard loud car door slams outside. Not like you could look outside your window since you're chained to your bed. Toshinori sat up and Hizashi walked over to the window.

“Great they’re here”! He says spinning around and walking out of the room.

The next couple of hours were filled with loud footsteps, loud bangs, and thuds, the sounds of hammers and drills as they install cameras and decor to hizashi’s liking. The blond's loud voice constantly booming around the house with “NOT THERE” and “PUT IT HERE” and “HEY BE CAREFUL WITH THOSE, THEY WERE MY MOTHERS.”

You looked up as a couple of men entered your room to install a camera in the corner of your ceiling. Hizashi entered the doorway and met toshinoris glare. “Sorry I forgot about a camera needing to be in this room too.” Hizashi said while he shrugged at toshi. You looked up at the man on the ladder, and the men surrounding him. They were all purposefully not looking at you. Like they felt pity for you. No...almost like they were scared to look in your direction. Almost like if they even dared to view you, they would meet their fate. Hizashi is their fate. He's the most obsessive and predatory person you have ever met.

“All right, great work boys.” he said as they wrapped up everything and started heading out of your room. One stayed behind. “Looks like we did everything, it all looks pretty good, and the cameras were installed perfectly. If you have any questions or need anything else, please call me.” Hizashi nodded at him with respect and handed him a $100 tip, and with that all the men gathered their belongings and left the home.

You looked up at the camera pointing right at you in the corner of your room. “Check this out toshi, we can download an app that controls the cameras.” Hizashi said as he used his phone to move the camera every which way. Great definitely no privacy. He walked over to toshi to help him download the app. Once they got all that situated. Hizashi left to get ready for work. Toshi thanked god that it was his day off because then you would be left home alone. What could be better than Toshi's company? He thought to himself.

Hizashi came back into the room smiling in his hero suit. “All right my doves, I must be off.” he said as he kissed Toshi on the lips and rounded the bed to kiss you. He tried to kiss your lips but you dodged it. He didn't give up though, you kept moving your head around to dodge the kisses and eventually he got tired of it and grabbed your face and forced your lips onto his. “See it wasnt that hard huh?” he said, chuckling to himself. He stood up straight and fixed his jacket. “All right, I'm going to work, I'll be back later. If you need anything toshi im one call away.” Toshi nodded at him and wished him well.

The day carried on with you laying in bed and toshinori doing paperwork with reading glasses next to you in bed. He occasionally thought about izuku. How disappointed in him he is for kidnapping you and scaring you. (still delusional i see). He thought about how he is going to deal with him. No better way than to threaten him. You thought about izuku as well. How is he doing?

You decided to change the channel and forget your worries. Until the news channel came on and it's a funeral. You thought nothing of it until the person in the casket looked familiar… is that…you? It's a funeral. For you. Toshinori looked up from his puzzle to see what the commotion was. His eyes widened. Shit… he forgot about that happening today.

Aizawa was there looking down with everyone else as they prayed over your casket. Your mother was there beside him “sobbing”. She didn't seem too upset. Maybe she knows you're still alive. Hope filled your body. Maybe you can be saved. The funeral wasn’t too long. Your casket was lowered into the ground and everyone was interviewed, paying their respects. Including your mother. Aizawas' interview was just a bunch of “you cant save everyone” bullshit. Great now everyone DEFINITELY believes that you're dead.

They wasted no time getting the ball rolling for everything. It hasn't even been a day yet and your funeral is already happening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hizashi had no problem covering for his husband's class while he was attending your “funeral”. It wasn’t for too long since the funeral was set to start a couple of hours before class starts. Shota was only 10 minutes late to class today. Nothing major. Once he returned Hizashi told him how good and quiet the kids were today before heading to his own class.

Shota seemed to be treating Midoriya differently today. He seems to drop everything he hands izuku onto the ground before izuku could grab it, Almost like shota is dropping it on purpose. He hands out classwork to everyone but izuku. He huffs in annoyance when izuku raises his hand. Izuku’s terrified of his teacher because of the past event that happened, but he must be brave. “Yes midoriya?” he says in a low sinister tone. Izuku gulps. “You didn't hand me one sir.” shota rolls his eyes before saying “oh you mean one of these?” while lifting up a sheet of classwork. GULP ``yes sir” he smirks. “Come get one then.'' Izuku stood up slowly and made his way to his teacher's desk. It felt like centuries as Aizawa stared at him. He stopped at the foot of his desk and looked down at the sheet of paper sitting next to his teacher's laptop. Shota noticed his hesitancy.

In a low predatory tone he spoke. “Go on, take it.” izuku closed his eyes and gulped before slowly reaching his shaky hand to grab the paper. “I'm not gonna bite.” Once izuku’s hand touched the paper, shota jumped and growled loudly at him just like a dog attack. Izuku snatched his hand back to himself and stumbled over himself. He looked horrified at Aizawa as he laughed like it was the funniest thing he has ever done. He's never seen his teacher laugh so hard or even smile in that matter. Izuku’s heart is beating out of his chest. Shota stands up and wipes a tear from his own eye.

“Oh you know I'm just joking around with ya kid. You should have seen your face.” he says as he hands him the sheet of paper. Izuku just stares at him. “Well go on, take it.” shota insists. He snatches the paper quickly out of his teachers hand as if he’ll rip his arm off. Shota’s face drops back into a dead look before leaning over in his face and saying in a chilling tone. “Now go sit the fuck down.”

Izuku scrambled back to his desk while the class laughed at him. He couldn't focus on his work after that. Shota noticed. “Midoryia, you better focus, I would hate to have to take you out of the hero course.” izuku looked up and saw shota staring at him through his long back hair. “Yes sir.”

Hizashi treated midoriya no differently than shota. Constantly “forgetting” about him, and torturing him. Giving him more homework than the rest of the class. Izuku regretted getting involved with your scary situation. But you're his best friend, how could he not? You're gone now and there's nothing he can do. He saw the news. You were found dead in that very hotel room, and had a funeral later as well. It doesn't make sense. Not for someone who was there. He saw you being escorted out. How could you end up back in the same room dead. He doesn't believe what everyone was fooled by. You're not dead. He knows it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tea”? Toshinori shouted from the kitchen. “Sure” you said looking dead at the living room television as some random rom com played. He was nice enough to let you out of your chains earlier since you asked nicely and promised to be good. How far could you possibly get? This place is basically locked down to the highest levels possible. The locks are apparently top notch along with the glass windows and doors, and there are hella cameras. Your ass aint getting anywhere without anyone knowing. Hell, just moving an inch would have the cameras notifying them.

They were even nice enough to inject a small quirk canceling thing in your arm while you were asleep. Definitely an illegal thing. They got it off the street from a guy who also laced it so you couldn't feel it. You can thank Toshinori for that idea since he used to do drugs when he was at his lowest, fucking all those women looking for his soulmate (aka you). The only reason you know about the thing in your arm is because toshi slipped up when he was mumbling about protecting you when he thought you were asleep.

“I need to use the bathroom.” you mumbled as toshi walked over to you carefully with a hot cup of tea, setting it down in front of you. He stood back up and nervously wiped his hands on his pants and looked around. “Uh sure, of course.” you stood up and looked at him. “Oh, uh, it's upstairs and it's the first door on the left. Do you want me to come with”? You shook your head. “I can manage, i mean how far can i get in this house?” you laughed in defeat. Apparently he didn't find that funny. He watched as you made your way up to the bathroom. You closed the door and scrambled to the toilet to pee immediately. You’ve been holding it since this morning. Luckily toshi trusted you enough to take the chains off your feet and let you roam around. Almost time for the other two to start heading home if they don't have other plans. After wiping you stood up and pulled your pants up. You washed your hands with the wonderfully scented soap that hizashi picked out.

You sighed as you looked at yourself in the mirror. God you look like shit. You bent down and splashed your face with ice cold water for almost a solid minute as if you're trying to wake yourself up from this dream. Not working. You shut off the water and walked over to the towels and dried your face off. You thought about everything and took a deep breath and put your back against the wall and slid down to the floor. You slumped over on the floor wishing death upon yourself. Looking straight ahead you notice the sink cabinets. Wonder what’s under there. You get up on your knees and crawl over and open it, of course you expected back up bathroom necessities, and it was. But you notice something all the way in the back. A singular bobby pin. An idea slams your brain. The locks around the house may be top notch, but you're sure it's nothing a bobby pin cant take care of.

You quickly move everything and grab the bobby pin. You sit back and hold the bobby pin in between your palms as you pray to the heavens that your idea works. Hope finds its way into your heart. But all of that was interrupted by knocking on the door. You scrambled to close the cabinet and stand up shoving the bobby pin into your sock. “Hey, are you alright, you’ve been in there for a while.”

“Yeah im fine.” you say with your heart beating out of your chest. You stumble back as he unlocked the door with ease and came in. “sorry just had to make sure you were ok.” he walked into the bathroom and scanned it and scanned you. Looks fine to him. “Let's go play a board game, yeah”? You nodded and followed him to the dining room table as he grabbed a board game from a large cabinet. “Let's play candyland.” he said as he smiled at you bringing it over to set it on the table. Candyland, your childhood game. How the fuck do these creeps know everything about you. “Have you played this before”? He asked as he unpacked it. Oh as if he doesn’t fucking know.

You rolled your eyes. “Can I get a snack out of the fridge”? He looked up and over to the kitchen. “Sure” he didn't worry since he could see everything going on in the kitchen from where he sat. you stood up and went to the fridge pretending to pick something out. The fridge and kitchen was loaded with snacks and foods that you liked. The only reason they would know is from the worksheets they hand us in the beginning of the year to write things down about ourselves and the snacks, foods, hobbies, music, and colors that we like.

You walked over to the cabinet close to a small stairway that led to a hallway with a glassdoor. One that led to the outside world. You looked over to toshi to see his nose deep in the board game instructions. You looked around the kitchen with something to hit him with. There's no knives. They hid them all. Fuck. But there's a cutting board. It was a fancy glass one, it was fucking heavy. You quietly grab it and put it behind your back and make your way over to toshi. He never noticed you walking over, raising a cutting board over your head in a deadly manner.

He started mumbling to himself, confused on the instructions “Wait, if this goes here, then this must go-” WHAM

He was out like a light. His blond head slamming against the table. Silence filled the room as he slumped over. You stared at him terrified that you actually did that before the adrenaline kicked in and you were running like a bat out of hell towards the back door. Regret fills you as you approach the clear glass door and notice how gray and foggy it is outside from all of the heavy rain, how could you even see? Why now of all times? It's too late now. It’s now or never. You scrambled to get the pin out from your sock, you were shaking so bad that you dropped it a few times, before finally getting it into the door, after constantly looking behind you. “CLICK” oh my god. You did it. It's unlocked. So much for “MAXIMUM security locks”. You grabbed the door knob and swung the door open, and there it is, that beautiful view you were dying to see. The outside world. After looking over your shoulder just one more time, you booked it out of the house. You could see it, smell it, and taste it. Freedom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

School let out and shota decided to stay and take over for the detention teacher since they had a personal emergency, and hizashi decided to go over to your mothers house and share his condolences for your death. He hopped into the car throwing his bags into the back seat and took his jacket, speaker, headphones and shades off. Tossing them in the passenger seat beside him. He grabbed a comb from out of the glove department and combed his hair down and put it in a bun. He opened the department to put the brush back and grabbed a pair of his normal glasses and put them on. He looked in the rearview mirror at his face to see if he looked good. Even checking his pearly white teeth. “Alright” he said as he put the keys in the ignition and started the car. “Let's get this ball rolling.” he said as he began to drive out of there.

Hizashi decided to hit up a flower shop on the ride there. Once he got the flowers, he was on his way to your moms. The car ride there was almost unbearable, the traffic was awful and he almost got T-boned 12 times by fucking idiots who apparently are color blind to traffic lights. But alas, he made it. He slowly pulled up to your house and turned the car off. Deciding to look into the mirror one last time before taking a deep breath and getting out. He closed the car door and made his way up your porch. He took a deep breath as he rang the doorbell. Sounds of a small dog barking and a woman telling it to hush, can be heard on the other side of the door. The sound of a lock can be heard before the door opens. “Oh hello there.” your mother says with a bright smile. Hizashi nodded “hello ms. L/n, do you mind if i come in”? She looked him up and down in a seductive way before answering. “Why sure.” he was absolutely disgusted. Her daughter just “died” and this is how she acts?

Hizashi kept his smile as he entered the home and looked around as your mother shut the door behind him. “Are those for me”? She asked sweetly. Hizashi nods and hands her the flowers. “Oh I gotta find a pretty vase for these.” she sings as she walks to the kitchen. “Oh I almost forgot, how rude of me. Would you like any Tea, water, juice, or coffee”? She asked while scurrying past him to pull out a chair from the table for him to sit. He waved his hand with dismissal while sitting down in the seat she offered. “No thank you, I appreciate it though”.

He smiled at her.

“Ok then, what brings your handsome self here”? She says as she fills a vase with water and places the flowers inside. He visibly cringes with the language. “I just thought that I should come by and give you my condolences about what happened with y/n”. He says as he fakes a look of concern and sadness on his face.

She looks down and chuckles a bit. “Oh, that's all”? Setting the flowers aside.

Hizashi looks confused. “She’s not all that special to me mr. Yamada.” Your mom looks straight ahead out the window above the sink into the back yard to look at the swingset that you used to play on when you were a kid.

“Yes, she was my child. But she was nothing but a financial problem for me and my boyfriends that i dated. They wanted her gone. But I kept her since she had a chance of becoming a hero and being famous, so I would be able to use her for my own wealth. I mean this swingset I bought for her put me into debt.” She says as she gestures her hand towards the swingset outside of the window.

Hizashi’s eyes widened. What. the. Actual. Fuck. And he thought HE was sick in the head. Get a load of this bitch. He’s stunned. This was never the reaction he thought he would get. This is a joke right?

“I'm sorry”? He says as he stands up. “You heard me. I'm free now. No more having to pay for an ungrateful little bitch, no more forcing her into the hero course, and no more stress of trying to figure out what to do with her since all of my past boyfriends don't seem like her. I can now erase her as if I never had a child, and I would have better luck with relationships” She turned and smiled at Hizashi but her smile faltered a little bit before saying, “but my chance of wealth is out of the picture now that she’s gone.”

“Is that all you're worried about”? Hizashi says in all seriousness and rage. Damn he never thought your mom would say such things about you. “At the moment, yes. Besides, now that she’s gone I can finally shoot my shot with you. I have always had a thing for you, But dating my daughter's teacher would be odd, but she's gone now, and you're definitely my type.” she says as she walks over with a seductive smirk.

He takes a few steps back. “You choose men over your own child and teachers are where you draw the line”? She reaches the table that he stood at and leans on it. “What's the matter, I've always noticed the way you look at me, your partner with the dark hair as well, maybe we can run a train. You should call him since you're already here” she says as she gestures her head behind her towards her bedroom. Hizashi looks past her shoulder and sees she's gesturing to her room.

He visibly cringes trying not to vomit from pure disgust. It takes everything in him not to tell her that he’s definitely into her daughter instead of her. Rage fills his body. “How the fuck could you say something like that.” His heart hurts for you. Thank the Gods that he kidnapped you, he practically saved you and he can tell you had no idea that your mother held this secret of rage and hatred. His soul hurt. Memories of him attending crime scenes where the child met a terrible fate because the mothers chose the man over them, begins to flood in and haunt him where he stands. He wishes nothing but the worst for those types of mothers. Little did he know that your mother was one of them.

She looks at him confused seeing that he hurts for you. “What? You want her over me? Oh my god of course you do, she’s always been prettier than me.'' She throws her hands up in defeat and walks towards him shoving a finger to his chest. “Fine, if thats how you want to be then get the fuck out of my house. NOW!” he stares down at her with anger and a lone tear falling down his face. He contemplates his next move.

This is all happening so fast and unexpected. Does he beat her until she’s unrecognizable? Does he start recording and show the police and frame her for the death of her daughter? The second option sounds like a wonderful plan honestly. His fists clenched up. She huffed and turned around to walk away. He raises his fist but logic struck him before he could hit her. He quickly straightened himself up and walked out of the home. He walked to his car as he wiped his tears. Leaving the house with her still alive in it, took a lot of strength not to kill her. He looked in the rearview mirror and checked his face, wiping any excess tears. He straightened his glasses and started the car, backing out of the driveway. She's not getting away with this alive. Hizashi wont allow it. He can't hurt her unfortunately because It'll cost him his career. But he'll find a way. If she wont show you the love appreciation that you deserve then he will, and so will sho and toshi.

He called toshinori who wasn’t picking up and decided to call shota instead. He was so angry and upset he didn't even bother checking the cameras when Toshi didn't answer. Little did he know that he should have.

With a couple of rings shota picks up. Without wasting time he speaks “sho i'm going to take a street parole shift for tonight.” he waits for shota to answer. “Why?'' Hizashi thinks about everything and huffs. “Someone called off and there isn’t anyone to take over, so I decided to.” he lied. “Ok then, i’ll see you late tonight then?'' Hizashi nods. “Yes.”

“Ok is there anything else you called me for?” Hizashi hovers his finger over the end call button on his steering wheel before saying “no, I just wanted to inform you of that. I love you goodbye.” then clicked the button, ending the call. He’s working tonight because he can't go home and have you see him like this. He wanted to spend tonight with you especially after what just happened. So he’ll just have to make it up to you tomorrow and stay home from work.

He began grabbing all of his outfit accessories from the passenger seat and put them on as he drove to the hero agency where he would be spending the rest of his day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The air was freezing as it hit your face along with sprinkles of rain that were getting heavier by the minute. You can't breathe anymore from how long and fast you’ve been running, even stepping on a few spikey seed pods on the ground with your bare feet, but you never stopped running. You can't feel your legs anymore. Your Lungs are cold and heavy in your chest. You must keep going. Wait, I found it. The gate at the end of the driveway. You started to slow down as you approached it. You looked frantically behind you as you came to a stop in front of it. You would never know if he followed you out here, since the fog is too heavy to see through.

The humidity does nothing to aid your breathing, as the rain picks up. Turning around you begin to scan your surroundings as the rain begins to violently soak everything around. Your hair and clothes are now soaking wet and heavy.

The bars are too close together, and you can't climb them since they were built to be sharp at the top. The walls were made of bricks with barbed wire at the top. Fuck. You look over and see a “private property” and “smile for the camera” sign on the side of the gate. Looking above the signs you see a giant camera facing you. There must be cameras on both sides. Your brows knit in anger as you lift your middle finger to the camera.

Trying but getting stuck when you try to squeeze through the bars. Anger taking over as you used whatever strength you had to get yourself unstuck, ultimately flying and landing in a huge puddle of rainwater. You stared at the gray sky that sported a huge flash of lightning, and a few moments later the loudest sound of thunder you have ever heard in your life. You couldn’t help but sob. “Please, just please.” you prayed and spoke to whoever was listening. Taking a deep breath, you got up and looked over at a tree that was super close to the wall. Perfect. You ran over to the tree and began climbing it. Thank God for your tree climbing skills that you got when you were a kid. You got to the top and crawled along a branch that would take you to the other side. Almost there. “BAM”

Everything around you shook. The branch bounced and caused you to fall, almost face planting into the barbed wire. Your body slammed into a large puddle on the ground. You were covered from head to toe in mud. There's no time to waste, you thought to yourself as you scrambled to stand up. You thought nothing of the large sound that happened, thinking that it was just thunder. You turned around and your heart stopped beating. Toshinori stood there in his might form, staring down at you. Looking up in fear, you backed up as his hulking form loomed over you.

The shadows covering his eyes perfectly made him look more frightening. He breathed deep and heavy with anger as the rain bounces off of his huge form. Neon blue irises peered at you through the shadows around his eyes, making you realize that the sound that you thought was thunder was actually him hitting the ground from out of the sky. Looking down you noticed the mud scattered everywhere and a huge divot in the ground under his feet from the impact.

You stumble backwards from the large man. Only causing him to take a step forward for every step that you took back. The ground vibrates under you with every step that you take. Eventually backing up into the brick wall with nowhere to go. He is towered over you, seething. The only thing that you can do now is beg. “P-please, im sorry, i-i-i did not mean t-to hurt you.” great now you're stuttering. You raise your hands up in defense. “You know I wouldn't mean to hurt you. Please. I have to go home, i-i miss my mom, and my life, i h-have to go home please. Please.” you stuttered and begged through your sobs.

The begs of mercy and pleas fell upon deaf ears. Almost like they were bouncing off of a wall as he just stood there staring at you, not making a single sound. Nothing worse than the silence. Nothing can be heard but the pitter patter sounds of rain hitting every surface around the both of you and the occasional sound of thunder. He reaches forward and you shriek. Dodging his grip and running for your life. You knew your fate was sealed as the ground below you failed you with slippery mud. Slipping and falling on your ass multiple times didn't stop you from getting up to run. He wasn’t running, he was walking slowly towards your small frail frame as you ran like your life depended on it. He walked like a killer from a movie. Slow and taunting like.

You slipped one last time. And he caught up to you. A shriek pierced the air as he grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you to your feet from the roots of your head. He got a mere inch from your face and stared into your soul. He was so close that you could feel the air from his nostrils on your face. You couldn’t help but sob and bring your arms above your head to try to pry his large hand off of your scalp, only causing more pain for yourself. His voice causes you to freeze. “You have disappointed me y/n l/n”. His voice was terrifyingly calm. Without a second longer he threw you into the air and caught you before jumping off of the ground and using the force of his strength to fly into the air towards the house. A loud scream of “NO” erupted from you as he jumped off the ground.

This was horrifying. You were already scared of heights and you could see the earth below you as you flew 3000 ft into the air. So that's how he got to where you were. He flew. But how did he know exactly where you were in the huge messy forest surrounding the driveway. You missed the cameras that were planted all over the forest that were facing right at you, pinpointing every location you were. The landing felt like it could have killed you with the force of impact. He straightened his body after landing and walked to the back of the house where the glass door that you ran through. He walked carefully through the door to make sure that he can fit through it without having to drop you or change his size. He was successful. You watched as your freedom slipped away from your fingers like sand as he closed the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was almost 7pm and shota began packing up everything. The kids were dismissed hours ago, but he needed to finish leftover work that hasn't been done since the incident of you being ‘kidnapped’ by izuku. Man, he's hungry. Should he pick something up to bring home? Nah cooking sounds good, even though he's absolutely exhausted. He hasn’t had homemade meals in a while other than this morning. Too much takeout lately. He smirked at the thought of you watching him while he's in the kitchen with an apron on. He noticed the way you looked at him this morning when he was wearing nothing but boxers.

He held onto that thought as he exited the building with his bag, only to stop as he saw the heavy rain pouring. Yeesh he shouldn’t have parked so far away. He raised his bag over his head to protect him from the rain as he jogged to his car. He quickly unlocked his car and jumped in as he tossed his bag to the passenger seat. Shota took a deep breath as he watched the unbearably heavy rain bounce off of his windshield. Jeez. He took his phone out to shoot a text to toshi that he's on his way home now. Toshi replied quickly with a thumbs up. Shota was satisfied with Toshi's answer and put the phone down before starting the car and turning the windshield wipers on at the highest level, before driving off.

The drive home sucked. The amount of times that idiots almost hit him from every angle is horrendous. Something about the rain makes people drive like fucking morons. He pulled up to the gates and showed the camera his face and it unlocked the gates for him. He takes a deep breath as the gates slowly open, hoping he doesn't come home to any surprises because you misbehaved in any way shape or form. He presses on the gas and makes his way down the driveway. After about 5 minutes the house comes into view. “Hmm, not burned down. That's a good sign.” He reaches the house and stops the car. He turns the car off and takes the keys out of the ignition. Reaching over he grabs his bag to hover over his head again as he exits the vehicle in the pouring rain. He reaches the door and unlocks all 3 locks and types in a passcode before being let in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were terrified as you laid strapped down and chained to your bed. Toshinori is lying beside you watching tv with his fingers intertwined on his chest. Giving you the occasional glare. He was disappointed that it got to the point where he had to break out the straps and make you completely immobile. You know something is waiting for you. You both perk up when you both hear the sound of the front door being opened. Your heart beats heavier than before. “Shota’s home.” toshinori said as he got up and walked out, leaving you alone in the room. No no no no what's going to happen to me?

After what seemed like half an hour, the door opened and Shota stepped in, and shut the door calmly. He slowly stalked towards your bed, and stood at the end of it. Putting both of his hands on the bed frame and leaning on it towards you. His raven hair falling over his shoulders as he glared at you. Eyes glowing just slightly red. You can tell that he’s had a rough day. This cannot be good. Panic rose in your soul as you tried to find the right words to plead. You were about to open your mouth but quickly zipped it when he noticed words were about to come out of your mouth and gripped the bed frame even harder causing it to creak in protest and crack open. Long cracks shooting across the frame. His eyes are getting redder and redder. He looked up and took a deep breath before calmly taking his hands off of the frame and standing up straight.

Shota looked down at your ankles. Gently guiding his hand to ghost over your feet.

“I was hoping that you would behave tonight. Now it looks like toshi is going to make dinner while I keep you company”. He ran his index finger along the bottom of your foot, tickling you, causing your foot to jerk. He quickly grabbed it harshly and yanked it to him. He stared into your soul menacingly as his rough, scarred hands held your foot in an iron clasp grip. “Please i-”

His raven hair started to float when more noise left your mouth, causing you to quickly shut it.

He sighed heavily before speaking in a low unnerving tone.

“I don't want to do this, but I'm left with no choice. I can't let you off scott free with just a few ‘im sorrys’. You won't learn anything.” He squeezed your foot even harder, to the point of snapping it in half. “Your actions have consequences. And hopefully this lesson will stick in that fucking head of yours.” He then grabbed the second ankle and looked you dead in the eyes before gripping them both tightly with the strength only a god could have before snapping both of your ankles in different directions causing horrendous damage to your bones. White hot pain shot through your ankles and legs. Your blood curdling screams fell of deaf ears as he dropped your ankles back onto the bed like they were nothing. The weight of them slamming back onto the bed causes you to scream louder.

Shota stalked over to you and tilted his head as he watched you sob with snot and drool running down your face. He reached down and gripped a handful of hair in his hand as he lifted your head roughly. “Look” you refused to open your eyes. “I SAID LOOK” the fear overtaking whatever was left of your body and to your dismay, you opened your eyes. He was showing you the work he was proud of. Horror filled your entire body as he spoke. “Look at that, can't go anywhere now huh”? Your face going pale as you stared down at your twisted fuck up ankles beyond repair. He slammed your head back down to the bed and got close to your ear so there was no way you couldn’t hear him. “Hopefully THIS” he says as he shakes your limp ankle causing you to wince in pure agony. “Will be a lesson that sticks, Because this is only a mere warning.”

You began to sob but he gripped your hair even tighter and shook your head. “Next time you wont have any fucking feet, and thats only if i feel generous enough to let you keep your whole legs.” He dropped your head and stood up straight. “Your grounded, no tv, tablet, board games, or whatever the fuck you do in your free time. Your going to be in this bed and never fucking leave it, not like you can anyway.” he chuckled to himself. He began to walk out before turning back to you. “No privacy either, this door stays open and if I catch it closed I'm going to take it off of its hinges, no bathroom time by yourself either, and no dinner.” he said as he walked out of the door to leave you in a sobbing broken mess on your own bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Man, it's soaking out here. Mic thought to himself as he patrolled the empty dark streets. The occasional grocery bag skidding across the pavement from the wind. He honestly wishes something would happen, time is moving way too slow for his liking. He can't help but think about your mother and what a vile human being she is. Then he thinks about you. He hopes everything is going ok at home. He fights the urge to call shota so check up on you, he's not supposed to be caught on his phone during patrols. His hair is soaking wet and has fallen flat a few hours ago when the rain was at its peak. It’ll be weird seeing THE present mic all dressed up but with his hair down and soaked.

Jeez can something happen please. He was bored out of his mind and he couldn’t take his mind off of your mothers words about you. A scream from the distance halted his thoughts. He perked up and ran immediately to the sound. It's coming from an alleyway. Typical. He walked into the alleyway still bored out of his mind, thinking that this is some cliche everyday robber. “Hey buddy why don't you put the purse down and maybe i’ll le-” mic freezes as the criminal turns his head and peers at him. It's the serial killer that nobody can seem to catch. The very one that kidnaps people and leaves the corpses in america. That same killer that his husband and fiance framed for the “death” of their darling in that hotel room. His face goes pale.

Before mic can say anything the killer drops what he was doing and lunges forward, knocking mic onto his ass. Mic got up and landed a few blows before picking him up and swinging him around and slamming him to the alleyway walls. He held onto the killer's shirt as he continually punched him knocking a few teeth loose. He slammed his head into the wall and held it there as he twisted his arm behind his back and got close to his ear. “It’s over buddy, you’ve been caught. Do you feel guilty? All of those lives you took?” he asks as he took restraints out of his pocket and detained him, throwing him to the ground.

The killer spit up some blood before answering with a big smile that was missing some teeth. “No, never.” mic rolled his eyes while he kept an eye on him and took his phone out ready to dial the police and turn him in. As he was dialing the man spoke up. “Hey hey hey, no need for that man. I can do whatever you want or KILL whoever you want.” mic froze and looked up at him. Ideas coming into mind. The killer noticed the look on mics face.

“Yeah, I can tell you have someone in mind, come on, who is it? All you gotta do is give me a name.” Mic shook his head and put his thumb over the call button, But for some reason he couldn’t press it.

Mike's head was racing. It all halted when the killer interrupted. “Look, you obviously want someone dead mr “hero”. So I'll make a deal, yeah? I’ll wipe out whoever you want and you will let me go, almost like we never crossed paths, yeah”? He tilted his head and looked up at mic. Who was seriously considering it. The killer almost scoffs at how easy it is to manipulate mic.

“Well?” He tilts his head and looks at him expectantly. Mic completely caved. “I want you to murder this woman named (mothers name) that lives on (address).” The restrained man looks up and smiles. Bingo. “How do you want it done”? He asked. Mic began to smile like a maniac. “I want it to be the most brutal work you’ve ever done.” He laughed and smiled to the point where the killer himself got a little creeped out. He must be losing his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mic sits and waits in his car at the end of your mothers driveway. He stares at his steering wheel. He went through with it, he a “HERO” actually negotiated with a serial killer. It must be done. He thinks to himself. Full on delusion taking over.

He took the restraints off of the killer and negotiated with him. Setting a due date for TONIGHT. No other time or day. Their plan was to let him go to do what needs to be done, and then mic will follow and make sure that the person is actually dead before “officially” setting him free. Mic laughed to himself in the car. God that killer is gullible. He doesn’t actually think mic is gonna let him go does he? His thoughts were interrupted by faint screams. He looks up and can see shadows moving violently behind the window blinds.

Anxiety rises in mic and he begins to look around. Eventually the screams stop, and he steps out of the car making sure no one sees him or is outside.

He straightens himself up and walks over to the front door before opening it. He looks over his shoulder once more before closing the door behind him. Damn this house is a mess. There's blood everywhere. Eventually he reaches her corpse. Yep, definitely dead. He looks over and sees the man sitting at the table drinking sparkling water.

“Alright, you’ve seen her. She's dead. We’re good”? Mic nods his head and squats down to look closer at your mother. “Well I'm off then, it was good knowing ya.” the man gets up from the table and walks over to the door and stops. There was a coat rack. It's raining outside so might as well grab one. He begins sifting through all the coats to pick one out. Unaware that mic is creeping up on him. The man sees a shadow and turns around only to be struck on the head and knocked out.

He wakes up in a moving car. He tries to move but can't. Hes tied to the car seat. “HEY” he looks over and sees mic. “We had a deal, remember.” Mic looked over at him and laughed. In a spine tingling tone he answered. “You don't actually think i was gonna let you go, do you”? He said as he pulled into the police station.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shota and toshi eat peacefully at the table as you yell from upstairs. “You didn't give her pain meds?” toshi asked his fiance while chewing food. Shota scraped his fork on the plate a few times. “Nah, she needs to think about what she’s done.” he answered as he shoveled food onto his fork and ate it. He noticed the uncomfortable look on Toshi's face and looked up at the bandage on his head and pointed with his fork while chewing. “She needs to learn toshi, look at what she did to you.”

Toshi listened to what shota said and he reached a hand up to feel the bandage on his head from being hit earlier. He then remembered the event and agreed with his fiance. So then they continued to eat peacefully as you wailed throughout the house.

As dinner was almost over they heard the locks on the door shifting and eventually a tired worn out mic came through the door. Shota put his fork down and stood up and so did toshi. “Hey” shota said as he walked over to hizashi. “You alright, how was your day?” mic looked at him and smiled. “It was good, it was good,” he said, waving off the two.

Toshi kissed zashi after shota said his greetings. “Come eat with us, I made dinner.” toshi said, gesturing to the dinner table. Mic shook his head. “Nah, I gotta go see y/n, I haven't seen her all day.”

Shota looked over at toshi and gestured to him to go sit back down. Shota then grabbed hizashi’s wrist as he was trying to go see you. “Come eat.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner was peaceful. The food was delicious, and the conversations were fun. Just what mic needed after today. You haven’t wailed in an hour. They think you must have fallen asleep. Good, because shota is silently trying to find a way to break the news to his husband about what he did to you. Hizashi has always been the most emotional of the trio. All he could talk about was you at the table, things like “how is she, did she eat anything today, did she behave” shota and toshi just nodded and laughed along with zashi.

“Did she not come to eat?” zashi asked while chewing.

Sho and toshi looked at each other for a second before looking at zashi. “No she didnt” zashi looked confused. “Well why not, should I check on her?” he asked as he quickly put his fork down and began to stand up. Shota lunged forward quickly and grabbed his husband, sitting him back down. “ you haven’t finished your food baby”. Zashi looked at him confused. “I don't like this, shota what's going on?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“YOU WHAT?!”

You woke up from the sudden scream and lifted your head as you heard running up the stairs. HIzashi came running into your room and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you laying there with twisted, swollen ankles. Snot dried on your face, puffy red eyes, and messy hair.

He was mortified. He looked back down at your feet. He’s no doctor but he's pretty sure they aren't supposed to bend that way. Shota and toshi come trailing behind him. You looked at them with tears in your eyes. Your head was pounding and your throat was sore from the wailing.

Hizashi turned towards the men. “How could you?” shota rolled his eyes. “It needed to be done, I already told you what she did. You can't keep being soft on her, that's how shit like this happens. Look at what she did to toshi” he said, pointing to the bandage on his head.

Hizashi walked over to you and brushed the hair out of your face and coddled you. Shota scoffed at his husband's reaction. “If you had just listened to me” , Hizashi looked up in rage. “Get out.” toshi then cut in between the two. “Look I understand-” Hizashi jumped up. “I SAID GET OUT!” toshi stopped and put his hands up and walked out leaving shota still in the room. “You too.” hizashi pointed at him with hurt in his expression. “Hiz-” “NOW” shota was stunned but complied and walked out leaving hizashi with you.

“Its ok, everythings gonna be ok” he said as he slowly began losing his mind. He brushed the hair out of your face and ran to get pain meds and water. Completely avoiding shota as he followed him around the house trying to lecture him about just leaving you alone and that you need to suffer to learn. Hizashi completely ignored him. He grabbed a pair of clothes to change into and other necessities, including a plate of food to feed you.

Hizashi slammed your door in shota’s face and ran over to you. “Here take these”. He said as he gave you pain meds and water. “This is gonna hurt ok”? He said as he grabbed a stack of pillows to elevate your feet on. Wincing at the wails of pain that came from you. “It’s ok, i'm gonna stay right here.” he said as he walked over and grabbed the plate of food that he left on his nightstand and sat down next to you and fed you. After feeding you and putting a blanket over you, he stood up and walked over to the other side of the bed and changed his clothes.

He then got under the covers with you and cuddled you. “It's ok” he said over and over again as he shushed your cries. It was like that until the both of you fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rays of sun beaming from your window caused you to wake up. You look over and see that hizashi has gotten up and straightened the bed back up and cleaned up the dishes from your nightstand. You smell something amazing in the air, but then remembered what happened to you last night and a wave of nausea hits you like a train. You lay your head down and breathe trying to think of anything else while the three men ate breakfast at the table downstairs.

Hizashi is so angry at shota right now it's not even funny. But he still loves him dearly with all of his heart. So he still kisses him on the cheek and serves him breakfast. Hizashi is always the most emotional out of the trio. So it's damn near impossible for him to ever see eye to eye on shota’s discipline. Pretty much like the fun dad and mean mom. So he will never understand the ankle breaking option that shota chose. Hizashi will never agree with shota’s punishments and will never use them on you himself. He hasn’t quite had a change of heart yet, But if you keep it up, he just might.

He kissed shota and toshi before sending them off to work and waving them goodbye from the porch. They wanted to see you before work, but hizashi wouldn’t allow it. Telling them to give it time. After the cars roll off he takes a deep breath and walks back into the house and cleans up their dishes and tries to find ways to forgive shota while washing them. He then took a plate that he made you out of the microwave and headed upstairs with it.

You heard a few knocks on the door before it opened. You look over and see your soon to be husband walk in holding a plate of food and some juice. Long golden hair wrapped in a low bun, green iris’s lighting up behind his glasses, while wearing a tight black shirt that has a rock band on it, and black and red patterned pj pants.

He smiles bright at you and mouths a “hey” at you while he walks towards you quietly. He sets the plate and cup on your nightstand and bends down to help you sit up. He whispers gently to you “good morning”. He rubs your head when you groan in pain. “I got some food for ya, I think you should eat, songbird.” he says while sitting on the side of the bed to then lay a hand on your legs and start rubbing it in a comforting way. “There's a doctor coming over in a few hours to give you a cast and help you with your ankles so they can heal properly. “ he says as he bends over to grab the food off the nightstand table.

He grabs the fork and shovels some food on it. “Say ah” you roll your eyes, but do it anyway. You take the food off of the fork when he puts it in your mouth and chew. It's spicy. He looks at you expectantly and smiles. “Good?” you nod and he's practically beaming. It was boring while you ate. You weren't allowed to watch tv or read any books or even walk in that matter. That's the only thing about this punishment that hizashi can kind of agree on. So he won't let you do any of those things either. He understands that what you did is bad, so he won't let you get away with it completely. Mid meal, Hizashi started ranting about his husband and toshi. The room was too quiet and he thought that you would make a good listener.

You were surprised most of the conversation, chewing slowly and listening closely as mic ranted about them. Learning new things about them and the things that they did, who they are as people. Shota sounded terrifying. How does mic even sleep with him? Is he a victim? The conversation started when he started talking about your ankles, then he started getting riled up and started venting. Then eventually the conversation circled back to the beginning where he was before he trailed off.

He shoveled the last bit of food on the fork and pointed at you. “Fuck what shota thinks, he believes that you shouldn’t wear a cast or get your ankles fixed. He wants you broken. Toshi disagrees with it too, but he's a pussy. He’s scared of shota. Shotas is pretty much the man of the house.” He said while he raised his arm with the fork in it in a mocking way.

He finally put the fork in your mouth before finishing his rant. “Shota’s gonna kill me when he sees the cast on you.” you chew slightly traumatized but alas, you swallow it. “Alrighty then” he says smiling at you while he gathers up the plate and cup and walks out of your room. Leaving you there to think about what he said about the others.

Hizashi will never tell them that he was the reason behind the death of your mother. That will follow him to the grave. As much as he got in shota’s face for what he did to you, He himself did something just as dreadful. He feels like a hypocrite. Even though that woman deserved the worst, she didn't deserve death. No one does. He stands and thinks about that as he washes your dishes. Starting to regret what he did. He’s never killed anyone, honest. But she lit something up in him. He loved you too much for that. Love will make you do some crazy things won't it?

He headed towards the back of the house. There's a big room, a perfect room to make an ‘at home’ recording studio. So he’ll be able to do his third job at home to spend more time with you.

The boxes were already in there filled with everything that the studio needed, and that's how both of your days went. You spent it in bed while he was building his studio. After he finished building his studio, he took a step back and admired his work. Perfect.

The next thing on his ‘to do’ list is to fix the lock from the door you ran out of and put more security on the locks.

He grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge and took a few sips. “Shit might as well drill all the fucking doors shut.” he thought to himself as he threw his hands up exaggeratingly.

He was in the middle of fixing the lock on the door when he heard a knock at the front door. He dropped the tools and walked through the house while wiping his dirty hands on his pants before he opened the door. It was the doctor. One that hizashi is paying very well to keep his mouth shut about what he sees.

He greeted the doctor and let him in and started working on your ankles. Hizashi decided to go back downstairs and finish the door so he wouldn't hear your yells of pain.

Hizashi fixed the lock and then decided to put more security on the others. He was on his knees at the front door, playing with the lock. “AHEM” hizashi turns around and sees the doctor. “Oh, sorry.” He says as he gets up and opens the door to let him out. He turned around and said “everything is perfectly fine, but from the looks of it, don't let her walk for a few weeks.” hizashi nodded and sparked a 5 minute conversation with him while you laid in bed upstairs crying from everything that you went through and had to go through.

They both laughed and waved goodbye before he came back into the house. He then began walking upstairs to check on you. He opened the door and saw you laying down with tears in your eyes. “Hey what's the matter”? He asked. Oh as if he didnt know. “The doctor gave you cute casts and you're sad?” he said while rubbing them. This is the most frustrating thing ever.

You just ignored him and closed your eyes while he was assuming that the others pissed you off and he was the “good” guy.

“I want to go home,” Hizashi's head snapped up. “What”? You looked at him with rage in your face. “I. WANT. TO. GO. HOME!” He stood up and backed up.

“What, why? After all I do for you? We’re gonna live a good, long, happy life. We’re gonna get some pets, and make babies and have a big happy family here”

He’s honestly really delusional. You sat yourself up and yelled louder. “All you do for me? What did you possibly do to benefit me huh? Huh, Hizashi Yamada?” you screeched. He was losing his mind. He was pacing around the room. Just spiraling every second. You could see it on its face. It was almost enough to make you back down. He might be the softest, but he's the scariest, the most mentally ill. But you kept going. “IM GONNA KILL ALL OF YOU AND BURN YOUR DEAD BODIES AND RUN AW-” Before you could finish he snapped. Turning around and harshly pointing at you “YOU ARE HOME” his face red with rage. You jumped a little from the booming voice. He began to walk closer while still pointing. “YOU'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE! DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND ME? ANYWHERE! THIS IS YOUR HOME NOW SO YOU BETTER FUCKING GET USED TO IT!” he said as he grabbed you harshly and yanked you out of bed. “HEY, HEY” you screamed as he dragged you through the house all the way down to the basement. “NO PLEASE” you screamed as he dragged you down the stairs and into the darkness of the basement. The only light is the open door. He threw you to the ground near a metal pipe and wrapped chains around you. “Please i'll be good, i'm so sorry”

All of your pleas fell on deaf ears as he tightened the chains and yanked on them to make sure that it was tight enough. He then stood up straight and began to walk out. “This is your home. Now think about what you’ve done.” and with that he slammed the door closed. Leaving you in complete cold darkness.

As much as you hate it, believe it or not, this….this is your life now.

#aizawa smut #yandere aizawa #mha #yandere all might #yandere erasermic #yandere present mic #yandere eraserhead #all might x reader #yandere mha

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anonymousewrites · 4 months

Text

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Chapter Twenty

Kusuo Saiki x Reader

Chapter Twenty: Crepes and Breaks

Summary: Saiki gets to make sweets, and his luck turns as his receiver breaks.

“Are you ready to make crepes, Kusuo?” asked (Y/N), tying their cherry and strawberry themes bandana and apron on.

“In today’s training, we will be making crepes,” said Coach Niwayama. “I don’t know how to cook, but I have the recipe!”

“I like his apron,” said (Y/N), chuckling at the teddy bears on his.

“Better than Kaidou’s,” said Saiki, looking dubiously at the skulls across Kaidou’s grey apron.

“So, what are we looking to put together today?” said (Y/N).

“Crepes are good on their own, but they go well with whipped cream, chocolate, and fruit. Can we add those to it?” said Saiki, much more energetic than he ever was in school (which meant that he was willing to be involved in activities. His face didn’t show anything).

“Alright!” Nawayama passed out the recipe cards. “Let’s get cooking!”

Saiki looked at Kaidou and Hairo arguing across from him. He was grateful to have (Y/N) in his group because they understood sweets better than anyone else he knew, so hopefully that would balance out whatever Kaidou and Hairo inevitably messed up.

“Let’s do our best together,” said Hairo excitedly.

“Right,” said Kaidou.

“First we need to break two eggs,” said (Y/N). “Make sure to keep the shell from falling in.”

“Got it,” said Saiki, lifting up two eggs.

“Wait, Saiki, let me crack them!” said Kaidou. He took the eggs eagerly. “I can crack them with one hand.”

“Kaidou, don’t—”

Egg shell fell into the bowl, and (Y/N) slapped a hand over their face.

“Shoot! The shell fell in!” cried Kaidou.

“You should have used two hands!” said Hairo, pulling another egg apart. Yolk and shell fell out.

(Y/N) sighed. Apparently, Hairo and Kaidou weren’t good at cooking. Saiki almost glowered at them as they began to ruin his chance to eat crepes (especially since Kuboyasu and Nendou were doing so well).

While Kaidou and Hairo began to look in confusion at the next instruction (and poor Saiki watched), (Y/N) picked out a bowl and cracked two eggs perfectly.

“Next, pour in some flower. How much is ‘some?’ ” asked Kaidou.

“I don’t know,” said Hairo.

“For now, let’s add three pinches,” said Kaidou.

“Flour’s not seasoning,” said Saiki, trying to stop them.

(Y/N) shook their head in amusement and poured flour into their own bowl.

“Let’s see…What’s next,” said Kaidou.

“Kaidou is being too cautious,” said Saiki, pouring more flour into their bowl.

“Add some sugar,” murmured Hairo. “What’s ‘some?’ ”

“These aren’t very clear instructions,” said (Y/N). “Desserts need exact measurements.” They measured the amount they needed and poured it into their bowl.

“What are you doing?” said Saiki, glancing at them.

“Don’t you worry, Kusuo. Just keep an eye on them so they don’t poison themselves,” chirped (Y/N).

Indeed, there was a worry of that as Hairo and Kaidou poured an extravagant amount of sugar into the bowl. Who knew what else they’d add too much or too little of next.

“This is bad,” said Saiki, trying to fish out some of the sugar. Unfortunately a whole stick of butter was thrown in, next, ruining his attempt to fix things.

“Since it says ‘some,’ that should be enough, right?” said Kaidou.

Oh, dear, this really could’ve been avoided with measurements, thought (Y/N), cutting and setting the butter to melt.

“Oh, no, we didn’t melt it!” said Hairo.

“Can we just microwave it?” said Kaidou, already setting the metal bowl into the microwave.

“Good idea!” said Hairo.

“I’m not going to bother to try to stop this.”

There was a flash, and the microwave sparked itself to death. As Nawayama began to yell at Kaidou and Hairo, Saiki tried to remake the crepes they were currently failing at ((Y/N) continued with their work so that they’d have something to fall back on).

“I didn’t know that we couldn’t put metal in the microwave,” said Kaidou as he slouched back to the table.

“What should we do?” said Hairo, looking at their disgusting bowl of…something.

(Y/N) looked in. “Maybe exorcise it?”

“It looks like a breakfast from Hell,” agreed Saiki.

“I hate to waste it, but we should probably throw it away,” said Hairo.

“I guess we have to,” said Kaidou, sadly gazing at his monstrous creation.

“Give it to me.” Mera held out a hand towards the food (if it could still be called that). “If you’re going to throw it away, give it to me.”

“Mera, if you get possessed, it’s on you,” said (Y/N), looking concernedly at the contents of the bowl.

“Okay!” Mera was fine with that if she could get food, and she grabbed the bowl and ran away.

“Okay, let’s pull ourselves together and start over,” said Hairo.

“It will go perfectly this time!” said Kaidou.

Just as long as they don’t try to grab my bowl, thought (Y/N), happily mixing. They were fine with getting involved with their friends’ mishaps in any other situation, but cooking was the one thing (Y/N) really loved, so if someone messed up their work, they would be very disappointed.

“Here.” Saiki had already remixed the ingredients, knowing Hairo and Kaidou were so behind in their group.

“Wow!” said Hairo.

“Did you make this, Saiki? Not bad,” said Kaidou.

“ ‘Not bad?’ ” Saiki had done way more than “not bad.”

“Not bad at all,” agreed Nendou, looking over.

“Of course it is, we’re the ones who made it,” said Kaidou.

“It was me who made it,” corrected Saiki.

“We put our blood, sweat, and tears into it!” cried Hairo.

“That wouldn’t taste good,” chirped (Y/N).

“You haven’t even gotten to the hard part yet,” said Nendou.

“What? One of the microwaves has already been destroyed,” said Kaidou incredulously.

“If it becomes harder, the whole classroom will explode,” said Hairo.

“Watch and learn,” said Nendou. He held up a pan. “First, lightly coat the pan with oil.”

“When do you pour the batter in?” asked Kaidou.

“Pour it in the center, like this,” said Nendou, showing them.

“Won’t it be too thick?” asked Kaidou.

“That’s why you spread it evenly,” said Nendou, demonstrating.

“Wow, Nendou really does know how to make crepes,” said (Y/N), a bit surprised but pleased. Their own crepes were going well, too.

“The one time I avoided having him in my group was the time I needed him,” said Saiki.

(Y/N) laughed, and Saiki’s annoyance subsided a bit as their joy. That made the situation better, even if it was still exhausting to see Kaidou and Hairo so obviously clueless as they kept asking Nendou for clarification.

“Amazing!” cried Kaidou as Nendou flipped the crepes effortlessly.

“Well, good luck, guys!” said Nendou, returning to his group.

“Shut up, we don’t need your help,” lied Kaidou even after he asked so many questions.

“The flipping part seems hard,” observed Hairo.

“Use a spatula to flip them,” said (Y/N). They smiled. “Flipping in the air is more advanced.”

“Let’s be safe and do that,” said Hairo.

“If we do that, Nendou wins,” said Kaidou. He spread the batter, waited a moment, and threw it in the air.

“No, Kaidou!” cried Hairo dramatically.

It flopped onto Nawayama’s head, and Kaido fell to his knees as the teacher began chewing him out. Kaidou slouched back with his head hung low while Hairo organized another crepe.

“I’ll try it with the chopsticks,” said Hairo.

“That will go better,” said (Y/N), fiddling in the stores of the room to try to find some fruit.

Hairo and Kaidou looked at the browning crepe.

“Isn’t that enough?” asked Kaidou.

“No,” said Hairo.

“Are you sure?” said Kaidou as it turned dark brown.

“Not yet,” said Hairo.

“It’s burning.” Saiki had lost another chance at crepes.

“It needs to get hotter!” cried Hairo.

Finally, he flipped it. Again, it looked like a monster with a skull face burned in. Hairo hung his head, and while he looked down sadly, Mera sidled up and stole the pan. (Y/N) let her go since she had handled the last batch well enough.

“We have no choice but to leave it to Saiki and (L/N),” said Kaidou.

“No, Mera!” cried Hairo, running towards their remaining batter as Mera downed it in a moment.

Saiki went blank with Kaidou. Their batter was all gone because they’d been too lenient with letting Mera enjoy what they made before they had a chance.

“You’re out of batter?” said Nendou, turning around. “Well, I guess I can share some of my crepes.”

Saiki turned around with a true smile. “Nendou, I knew you could do it when all else fails.”

“Did you?” laughed (Y/N) as they finished cutting strawberries.

“Take a look at the Nendous’ special tuna salad crepes!” said Nendou.

Saiki, Kaidou, and Hairo made disgusted faces. That…did not sound like a good combination with the sweetness of crepes.

“No need, Nendou,” said (Y/N), smiling. “You can enjoy yours.” They held out the plate they had finished putting together. “We’ve got our own.”

Hairo, Kaidou, and even Saiki’s eyes sparkled as they gazed at the crepes with chocolate and strawberries.

“You made these for us?” said Kaidou, eyes wide.

“Even as we messed up…” Tears came to Hairo’s eyes.

(Y/N) smiled and waved a hand. “Of course. You guys worked hard. Enjoy.”

Kaidou and Hairo excitedly took a crepe each and began to eat. Saiki stepped up and took his own.

“You saved the day,” said Saiki.

(Y/N)’s cheeks warmed. “I like crepes, too, so it was a little self-serving.”

“Maybe, but you’re always too selfless anyways,” said Saiki.

“You think so?” said (Y/N).

“You watch out for everyone else,” said Saiki. They looked out for him most of all, always ready to help. “You should take care of yourself.”

“I’ll try,” said (Y/N). They gazed at him warmly. “But who else is going to look after the people I care about if not me?”

Saiki’s heart stuttered. He was someone they cared about. He found himself smiling as he took a bite of his crepe.

“Still. Let us look out for you.”

“Don’t worry, Kusuo. I know you have my back.” (Y/N) spoke with complete confidence even though Saiki regularly disliked having to help his friends (acquaintances and nuisances, he would argue).

But they were right. Saiki would always look out for (Y/N). Always.

Saiki looked at his hand, pleased with himself for having gotten so far with controlling his abilities. Now he had more control and returning a baseball to someone wouldn’t present a problem (and he wouldn’t accidentally take anyone’s head off). Still, he couldn’t remove either of his receivers, otherwise he would lose control again. The dampeners made sure his powers were manageable.

Wham!

A baseball slammed into the side of his head.

Seriously. Again?

He picked it up and threw it down. Instead, the baseball went flying into the stratosphere. Saiki stared at his hand in alarm.

What just happened? I used the same amount of strength as before!

He reached up and felt one of his receivers. The ball on top was gone. He looked down and saw it at his feet.

I need to repair this.

He took a step forward, but the force of it sent him flying forward, and he accidentally kicked the pink ball. It disappeared into the horizon.

This is bad. This is really bad.

Anything he did would result in destruction and danger. He was stuck.

It’s too dangerous for me to return home like this. Saiki took of the remaining bit of the receiver. I will use my ability to reset objects to repair it. He focused and let the ability work. Turn back time! This should solve the issue.

…

It didn’t. Saiki stared at the pieces of the receiver, restored to when they hadn’t been put together as a machine. He had reverted time too much because of his abilities being out of control.

I can’t use this! I will have to use my telepathy to tell my parents to pick me up.

Unfortunately for Saiki, his telepathic ability was also off the charts. He couldn’t distinguish anyone’s voice from the other. Foreign languages had joined the mess of thoughts in Saiki’s head.

He groaned, holding his head, and leaned against a wall. It crumbled, and he fell through. Lying on the ground, he stared up at the sky. He needed to get somewhere safe. But where? He didn’t know if his parents were home, and he had nowhere else to go.

Saiki sighed. If only (Y/N) was here, they’d have a solution—

His teleportation reacted instantly to the thought, and he disappeared from the lawn.

Saiki groaned as he collapsed in a new room. Looking around, he found himself in a kitchen he’d been in a few times but remembered by heart.

“Kusuo?!” cried a worried voice, and (Y/N)’s face came into his sight as they crouched beside him.

His teleportation had brought him right to them. Oh, dear, even his abilities were influenced by his crush on them.

“What happened to you?” asked (Y/N), looking at him with pure concern.

If Saiki wasn’t in distress, he’d be flattered and a bit flustered by the way they were gazing at him, but as it was, he really needed help.

“My receiver broke,” said Saiki.

“Your—oh, your bobble?” said (Y/N), noticing the pieces in his hand.

“Yes. I can’t control my powers.”

(Y/N)’s forehead creased in worry. “How can I help?”

“I need my parents,” said Saiki.

“Alright. Don’t worry, Kusuo. I’ll get them,” said (Y/N), smiling at them.

Saiki had no doubt; (Y/N) was the kindest and most loyal person he knew.

He watched from the ground as (Y/N) headed to the phone and checked the phonebook for his house number.

“Hello?” said (Y/N). “Mrs. Saiki? Hi, yes, it’s (Y/N). Kusuo’s here. His, uh, receiver, I think, the thing on his head, it broke.”

Saiki faintly heard his mom yelling in panic.

“He’s alright.” (Y/N) glanced at Saiki. “He’s just lying on my floor. Yeah, my address is…”

Saiki closed his eyes as (Y/N) told his parents. They were coming. They’d have a solution to this.

I just hope it doesn’t involve him.

After school the next day, (Y/N) sighed and set their bag down on a chair before going to get a snack. They didn’t bother saying they were home—their parents were still out on another business trip—so they quietly went about their business. They wished Saiki was feeling better so they could’ve grabbed a snack with him, but he had been out sick from school that day, so his receiver obviously wasn’t fixed yet.

Maybe I should go over to his house and check on him, thought (Y/N).

Ring!

The phone rang, and (Y/N) walked over to answer it. They furrowed their brow as they saw a foreign number. That was unusual. Still, (Y/N) didn’t hesitate to answer it (look, it’s the Saiki K universe. What harm could come to them?)

“Hello?” said (Y/N).

“Hello, is this (Y/N) (L/N)?” said an unfamiliar voice.

“Uh-huh, who is this?” said (Y/N).

“This is Kusuke Saiki,” said the voice. “I’m Saiki’s brother.”

“…Kusuo has a brother?” (Y/N) blinked. They had no idea he had a brother; he’d never mentioned it. Not that he would. This is Kusuo.

Little did they know, Kusuke was carefully storing the fact that they used Saiki’s first name away.

“Yes, he does. Of course he doesn’t talk about me. I’m nothing special. But if you don’t believe me, you can look me up,” said Kusuke.

“No, I believe you.” Really, (Y/N) did. “Is Kusuo alright? Is his receiver fixed?”

Kusuke stored their knowledge of his powers away. “Almost! He’s coming to London to visit me. I was thinking of surprising him with some of his friends. Would you be to coming?”

“Coming to London?” said (Y/N) incredulously.

“It’s the weekend,” said Kusuke.

“…I don’t know you,” pointed out (Y/N).

“Nendou and Kaidou agreed to go,” said Kusuke.

Well, someone should look out for them. “…Alright.” Hey, as long as this wasn’t a giant scam, (Y/N) would get to check on Saiki and make sure he was doing well.

“Perfect,” said Kusuke. All the pieces of his plan had fallen into place

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181 notes · View notes

justjams2003 · 11 months

Text

Fast Pace-1

Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, tell me if I missed any

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk

Word count: 2,4k

Masterlist

Part 2

Your feet hurt, throbbing in your worn-out sneakers that you’ve owned since your first day at university. Your legs feel like jelly, and not in the good way, in the way where the back of your knees hurt, and the earth’s gravitational pull seems to be so much stronger. You feel like you’re being cooked like the way you’re preparing your sauce. Boiling, bubbling.

The sweat gathers at the brim of your chef’s hat and the back of your neck. The head chef is screaming at you, again, like he always does. You swear that he gets some sick thrill out of yelling at one. Forcing you to do 15 tasks all at once, while telling you just how horribly you’re doing all of them. Not only that, but you feel like you must think for the other four cooks you work with.

How you’re not used to it yet, you’re not sure. Maybe you’re not cut out for the industry, but you refuse to think of it. That would be your life’s dream down the drain. Not only that but, 20 000 euros down the drain. “Y/N, *il nous faut la sauce pour le jarret d'agneau!” Again, that damn head chef calls and you can feel your frustration burning in the back of your eyes. *We need the sauce for the lamb shank!

“*J'apporte ta foutue sauce maintenant!” You can’t help but let your anger bubble out. You give the sauce for the cook preparing the lamb, ignoring the fiery glare of the head-chef. “**Je prends ma pause.” You say, throwing your hat and apron on my station, once again ignoring your boss’ threats. You throw the door open, sighing in relief at the fresh air. *I'm bringing your damn sauce now **I’m taking my break.

You sigh, sitting on the dirty alleyway floor, leaning against the old brick wall. You pull out a pack of cigarettes, take one out, light it and take a deep pull. And as you sit, you can’t but groan as you read the invoice for your rent. You’d been so good on your bills, but then you got sick, again, then the bills started piling up.

“Fucking hell...” You mutter, rubbing your temples in annoyance. You get a message from your mom, asking how you are and when you’re coming to visit. You avoid it, you can’t face her. Your family all believe you to be this fancy five-star-chef, making it big in the capital of France. You don’t have the guts to tell them of your failure. Or the fact that you’re sitting on a dirty floor, after being verbally abused all day.

When you were little, you imagined being a princess in a big castle. With lots of gowns and jewels and shoes. You’d use your mom’s old dresses and put on a show. Whenever you’d get hand-me-downs or the new outfit once a year you’d put on a whole show. When people would ask what you want to be when you grow up, you’d always say a model.

When you got older, late teenage years, you, of course, had to think of something more realistic. And with chef-ing having the easiest job to find and the easiest degree to get, you chose it. Now, you regret it more than anything. Your dreams have been sucked dry and aspirations have little left. At home, you spend your time scrolling through the vogue Instagram, dreaming of the day that someone can do all this adulting for you.

Out of nowhere, a loud scream is heard. You snap your head up to the direction it came from, after watching the newest runway from Versace. Suddenly a man come barrelling down the alleyway. He keeps glancing over his shoulder in panic and almost fear. His skin is a golden tan colour, and his beautiful dark hair flies as he speeds down the alleyway. He looks ready to to climb into a nearby dumpster before he spots you.

He seems beyond relieved to see you. And then another scream is heard, and his expression becomes one of alarm. “J'ai besoin...uh...help?” His French is sloppy and mixed with English. But his accent is not one of an American. You cross your arms and lift your brow. “Aide?” You translate his words for him. He nods, glancing to the alleyway entrance again. “Si, si-” very much not French. “Now. Uh...” Then another scream and his urgency grows. “I speak English.”

This news gives him a massive sigh of relief. “Oh, thank Dios.” He mutters and then his relief turns again to imperativeness. “You to hide me. Now. I can’t tell you why. But you need to hide me. Now. Uh-please.” His dark brown eyes seem frantic, and his accent sends shivers down your spine. You’ve never met someone with this accent, in your whole 23 years of life and something about this intrigues you.

“And why should I, for all I know you could’ve just killed someone!” You reply, standing up and stomping your cigarette out. And yet your firm stand buckles when he gives these big brown eyes, which are filled with fear. “I’ll pay.” Your expression changes almost instantly. At this point you’re ready to do just about anything to get the insurance off your back.

“Yeah? You like that, cosa bonita? How much, pretty girl?” Then he pulls out his wallet and takes out a stack of hundred-euro bills. “You name the price, doll face. Here, two hundred? But please be quick with your decision.” Never before have you had this opportunity to make money this quickly. And you need to money now more than ever. How can you say no? What’s the harm? If he was a criminal, he would’ve hurt you by now, right? You don’t mutter a word.

Not to mention the way he uses the pet names don’t seem gross. He’s charismatic, so much so that you hope he doesn’t see the blush creeping up your ears. Not only that but his smile seems almost comforting. Like you could trust him with your drink in a busy club. How far are you willing to go to pay your bills? You grab his warm hand, with the money in, and shove the both of you through the back door.

“*Je suis malade. Je prends le reste de la journée.” You call out, shoving your chef’s jacket and the rest of your work attire into your bag, all with the man still trailing behind you. “I do like it when a pretty girl like you speaks French. I must thank you, not many girls would usually do something like this.” Suddenly his worried nature turns into a more welcoming, flirty one. *I'm sick. I'm taking the rest of the day off.

It’s rare that you’re called pretty by an utter stranger. Frozen in place as you stare up at the handsome stow-away. “Where is he?” It’s the same girlish voice as before, the slightly above standard’s restaurant doors slam open. “I must say though, my French isn’t very good. I’m sure you noticed. But I do hope you were telling your manager that we are leaving, no?” He asks and this time blush creeps from your cheeks all the way to your ears.

“Uh- yes- something like that. Come, we’ll hide in the worker’s bathroom.” You stammer your way through your sentence. Though you regret it the moment you close the bathroom stall. It’s small and barely above regulations, this place is cheap on their worker rights. His chest is pressed up right against yours. His body is so warm, like a nice fire in a winter cabin.

You know if you were cuddle with him in the cold snowy months, you wouldn’t even need a heater or warm socks. Wait, why are you thinking this? You’ve just met the man! Now you’re already thinking of burrowing yourself closer to him. His big hands stabilize themselves on your waist, trying not to topple over you. And you can’t help but squeeze your thighs together, hoping the handsome man won’t notice.

At the same time, you wish your hair isn’t tied up, so that you could hide behind that piercing gaze. Especially now that your bodies are pressed against each other in the small bathroom stall. Your hands grow clammy, and you can feel that his eyes are trying to catch yours. Trying to see more of your face and you’re merely hoping the earth would swallow you whole. Feeling inferior to be admired by a man with such heat.

“I knew coming to France would be fun, but I didn’t expect being so close to such a pretty girl.” He seems entirely too big for the little stall and now you wish they had aircons that the American’s talk about. You too are forced to also steady yourself on his big, hard chest. Those dark unruly brows furrow. “Why are you so quiet now? Earlier you were quite happy to talk, no?”

Now you’re really blushing. “I assume when you someone like you, pays someone like me, you expect them to keep quiet.” You say avoiding his gaze, this seems to aggravate him. He takes you by the chin and forces you to look at him. His gaze softens when you look up at him through your lashes. But your legs feel like jelly when staring into those chocolate brown eyes.

“Someone like you? Someone like me? You should watch what you say.” Those dark golden eyes seem to stare right through your insecurities. “Why is that?” His words cause a spark in your mind, you’ve always been jealous of the rich ones. Not only that but the way they look down on you. This causes a smirk on his face, “So the mouse does speak?” You scoff at his words and start staring him down.

“The mouse does speak, and she’d love to ask why on earth she’s hiding with you in a bathroom stall?” His jaw snaps at your words and this time he looks away. “If I tell you, you might just be another person I need to hide from.” This time it’s your turn to laugh. “Tell me now, or I’m throwing you to the wolves.” He snaps down to look you in the eyes again. “You wouldn’t dare.” You smirk, “Watch me.”

His hand snaps up and then falls to his side again. Your heart is racing, it’s unlike you to be so daring or disobedient. But something about him makes you feel bold and confident. “Alright, niñita, tell me do you know about the Tifosi?” He asks, mixing his language in between and you can’t help but want to beg to know what he’s calling you

You shake your head no. “Alright, what about Formula 1?” Again, you shake my head no. He sighs and rubs his head. “Let’s just say I have a few loco, um, crazy fans.” You laugh, full on head back laughing. “Really? You paid me two-hundred euros to hide with you in a bathroom because you have some passionate fans.” Your eyes are twinkling with delight.

“No, no, no, niñita, you don’t understand. They had scissors! They wanted a piece of my hair!” This causes a flash of fears in his eyes, and he subconsciously rakes his fingers through his luxurious dark hair. You shrug and lift your hand, wiping a strand from his forehead. “I can see why.” It goes quiet then and the both of you can’t help but notice the screaming has died down.

“Well, if you’d ever like to know more about someone like me-” He sends you a wink and then grabs your phone from your back pocket. He shows you the lock screen and you roll your eyes but give in and open the phone. He puts in his number, adding a chili next to his name. ‘Carlos Sainz 🌶️’

You frown, “What’s the chili stand for?” Once more, he winks. “You’ll find out soon enough, I’m sure. And here-” he pulls out his wallet and hands you another hundred, “-for the trouble.” You blush again and shake your head. You hesitate, eyeing the money, biting the inside of your cheek, churning over if you should take it or not.

It’s been the first time that you’ve laughed in weeks. Not to mention the previous money already helps so much. “Tan testarudo que ya lo puedo ver. Está bien, me gusta un poco de coraje en mi chica.” He scoffs and shoves the bill in the back pocket of your jeans. “I think they’re gone now, I’ve got to go, I’m sure my manager is looking for me.” He says after his rant in the language I don’t understand.

He unlocks the bathroom stall door, and clatters out, yet somehow makes it look so hot. You escort him out of the restaurant and find yourself staring at him on the sidewalk of Paris. You can’t but remember, when he looks at you like he’s ready to devour you, that this is the city of love. Again, he steps up close, feeling his hot breath on your forehead. He’s six inches taller than you, he’s looming.

As if thirty minutes ago are happening again. He’s quiet and contemplative. His sweet, cocky attitude turns dark suddenly. His warm, rough hands gently caress your cheek. “I’m only in Paris for one more week, before I’m off to the Netherlands. If you don’t message me, I’ll make sure to see you again.” He looks so serious, so much so that your stomach turns slightly.

“Wouldn’t that be going a bit fast? Seeing me at my work a week after we met?” You chuckle, rolling your eyes. His eyes turn slightly darker and yet he smirks. “I like a fast pace.” As if he’s a villain in a bond movie, a bright black SUV pulls up next to him. “Don’t tell anyone about this. It’ll be better for the both of us. I don’t want the world to know about you just yet.”

His wink sends shivers down your spine. He then takes your hand and places a kiss on your knuckles. “I will see you again, muñequita.” He then slides into the back of the SUV; his gaze makes your core warm. And when he rides away you can’t help but lean against a close-by streetlamp. Your legs feel like Jello.

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #scuderia ferrari #sugar daddy!Carlos sainz #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x reader #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x sugar baby!reader #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #carlos sainz smut

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ugh-yoongi · 11 months

Note

In honor of the Golden release, what are some of your favorite JK fics? 🫶

hi nonnie, thank you so much for asking! i love an excuse to show off my ridiculous amount of bookmarks, and i hope everyone is enjoying golden. <3

most of these contain mature themes/content! please heed tags and don't engage with explicit work if you are a minor.

i know there are a ton i've forgotten, so please feel free to reblog and add your own :)

jk x reader

idealizations concerning real life relations by @venusiangguk

frost impressions by @fortunexkookie

baecation by @1kook

holidating by @yeojaa

the wedding planners by @gukyi

pour up (feat. taehyung) by @jungkxook

burning bright by @snackhobi

ego by @suga-kookiemonster

it takes two by @junghelioseok

heartless + compromise by @here2bbtstrash

practice by @chryblossomjjk

thursdays are for... (feat. taehyung) by arguileless

christmas is waiting for you by lamourche

jk x member recs under the cut

fake sugar (jinkook) <3

park jimin's guide to good housekeeping + park jimin's guide to getting hitched (jikook) <3

summer dreams collection (yoonjinkook)

mileage may vary (taekook)

if you love me won't you say something (yoonkook) <3

love like war (yoonkook)

love as fast as light (jikook)

drop like confetti (jikook)

cherub vice (jinkook) <3

the courage of stars (namkook)

bloom (jinkook)

how much to give and how much to take (namkook)

high on you and me (yoonkook)

gay panic: the musical (yoonkook)

my youth is yours (yoonkook)

it's a color that i can't describe (namkook)

years since you've been here (namkook)

city of trees (taekook)

the whole of the moon (namkook) <3

bone + tissue (hopekook)

108 degrees (namkook)

let there be light (yoonkook)

which to bury: us or the hatchet? (yoonkook)

everything i never told you (yoonkook)

"blue shorts. no shirt. six pack. heineken." (yoonjinkook)

a quiet kind of thunder (yoonkook) <3

jet black feeling (yoonjinkook)

salt water (namjinkook) <3

disgruntledofficebrat [available] (namkook)

travelogue with a frat boy (namkook)

ult favs marked with a <3

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #fic rec #jewel answers

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gurugirl · 1 year

Note

what if priestrry has ppl over for prayer and yn is there too (bc she can be now since no one knows her really) and he accidentally slips and says something to her like “pet” or “good girl”

how would they play it off? they can’t be perfectly on their game all the time 😬

priest!harry x reader

Summary: Harry slips up and calls Y/n a good girl in front of people in their prayer group.

A/n: Sorry for the delay in updating! Enjoy my two favorite characters! 1.5k words

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, religious themes, mentions of come, eludes to smut and other sexual acts, masturbation

priestrry masterlist | Forgive Me, Father

Y/n was running around helping Harry set up for the prayer meeting. A small group of people were coming over as a last-minute sort of thing. In fact, it was so last minute that Harry was in the middle of coming on Y/n’s tits as she was kneeling in front of him with her tongue out, hoping to catch some of him in her mouth, when he got a phone call as a reminder. He’d forgotten. So it wasn’t really a last-minute thing, as much as he’d lost track of the day and hadn’t told Y/n.

Harry freshened himself up quickly and pulled out his study materials as Y/n rushed into the bathroom to wipe his come from her body before starting a pot of coffee. She placed the chairs in the living area and put her leash away back into their bedroom before scampering into the kitchen to pull out mugs with the cream and sugar bowls. Harry looked up from his notebook to see his little pet fluffing the pillows in a hurry, still nude, goosebumps on her thighs and bottom.

He came up behind her and gently pulled her to stand upright and face him. She turned to look up at him as he silently unbuckled her red leather collar, keeping the dainty gold chain with the ‘H’ charm on her neck. Putting her collar into her hand he smirked at her, “Go get some clothes on, my love. You look cold.”

“Yes, Father.”

She smiled to herself as she walked into their bedroom. He was so dominant but in the way that always made her heart race. She couldn’t wait until everyone left after because he promised her something very special before she watched him pump his cock until he was coming over her chest. She loved watching his hand stroke his thick shaft as he released on her because it was just the beginning of what was to come for the night. She loved being his good girl, being patient for him, being edged until it was her turn to come. Until he allowed it. She loved him.

Slipping on a dress over her head and slipping a pair of panties over her hips she fluffed out her hair, slid on her sneakers, and got back to setting up the living room for the guests. Though they wouldn’t know she was the one who’d set everything up but she loved the secret. Loved the surreptitiousness of their relationship.

She kissed his cheek and picked up her Bible, “Love you, Father. I’ll wait outside.”

This was the routine. If there was a prayer meeting she couldn’t always be the first person to arrive. That could become suspicious. Once in a while, it could slide, but every time? So she’d wait around the back of the house until a couple of people had arrived first.

This time it was Mr. & Mrs. Jeralds who arrived first. They were a nice young couple. Always eager. Mrs. Jeralds seemed to really take a liking to Y/n.

Harry greeted his guests with a warm smile and a hug, offering coffee and tea. Y/n walked through the door moments later with her Bible held up over her chest and a big smile.

“Hi, Father. Thank you so much for inviting me,” she said as he gave her a side hug and she sat down next to Mrs. Jeralds.

“Would you like tea? Or coffee?” Harry asked her and then licked his lips.

She tried not to watch his pretty mouth as he spoke but she really had to concentrate hard, “Oh, a tea is fine. Thank you!”

Harry poured hot water into a mug and gave her a tea bag.

As the deacon walked in, Mrs. Jeralds nudged at Y/n, “So, I’ve been thinking… my cousin Austin will be coming to service this week. I would love for you to meet him. He’s an accounting manager at Debrille downtown. Good head on his shoulders. I think you two would really get along.”

Y/n raised her brows and smiled. She wasn’t interested, obviously, but she played along, “Oh that’s lovely. I’d like to meet him. How thoughtful of you.”

Harry sat down next to Mr. Jeralds, “Meet who?”

“Oh, Judy’s trying to get her cousin set up with a nice girl. He’s been single too long for her liking-”

“Jim! That’s not true!” She sputtered and looked from Y/n to Harry and then her husband, “I just think that they’d get along nicely…” She looked back to Y/n, “… and Y/n’s single! Maybe it’ll be a good match.”

Harry’s severe gaze met Y/n’s and she saw him clench his jaw. Of course, she knew that he knew there wasn’t a thing to worry about. But the way he was looking at her told her he wasn’t a fan of the conversation.

After the rest of the guests arrived and were given mugs of warm beverages they went around the circle and spoke about things that had burdened them that week and what they’d like to pray about or have the group pray for over them.

The hour always went by quickly but on this night, Y/n was especially excited for what was to come as they’d been interrupted before Harry could make good on his promise. She was almost shaky in anticipation. Slowly growing wet as she listened to him pray. She knew she should behave and pay attention but his voice alone she could get off to.

She had gotten off to it too. Like when he’d make her masturbate for him. He’d tell her what to do and where to touch herself and then praise her the wetter she got. He’d have her blindfolded so she couldn’t see him as he guided her to orgasm with his dark baritone.

When the last ‘Amen’ was spoken the deacon stood up and shook Harry’s hand, “I have to run, Father. Thank you so much!”

The last of the guests stayed and chatted for a bit as Y/n helped put the mugs away into the kitchen and Mrs. Jeralds washed them. She brought up Austin again but Y/n just smiled and nodded. She didn’t want to be rude but there was no way in hell Y/n would be going to lunch with them after service to get to know her cousin. Sometimes she wished she could just tell everyone that she was already taken. That the man of her dreams, the love of her life was gorgeous and tall and funny, and smart and he loved her with everything in him and she would never find that kind of love anywhere else.

But she had to pretend she was single and not interested. Which, the result of her secret was that she had Harry. Very much worth it.

Mrs. Jeralds went back into the living to get her things to leave when Harry walked into the kitchen just as Y/n was putting the last mug into the cupboard.

Harry looked behind him to make sure no one was in earshot and getting behind Y/n he spoke quietly, “Once they’re gone I need this off of you,” he plucked at the material near her waist.

Y/n looked at him over her shoulder and smiled, “Of course, Father. Anything you want.”

Harry looked down over her pretty face and to her neck. He loved seeing the small bruises there. Usually from his mouth. And in an action totally out of character when he was in the presence of others, he brought his hand up to her neck and brushed his fingers over the small bruise as she kept her eyes on him.

“Good girl.”

A throat cleared behind the pair causing them both to turn abruptly.

“We were just going to say our goodbyes. It was a wonderful meeting as always, Father,” Mr. Jeralds spoke as he looked at Harry. Mrs. Jeralds was looking at Y/n.

And neither could quite tell if they’d been caught or not. Had they heard him call her a good girl? Had they seen him touch her neck?

“Oh yeah! I should go as well!” Y/n moved away from Harry toward the living room to grab her purse. Her heart was pounding and she hoped they didn’t notice anything but the expression on Mrs. Jeralds face was concerning. Or perhaps it was just Y/n being paranoid (for good reason).

She waved goodbye, rushing out before the Jeralds could exit, and ran to the side of the house. She knew she should calm down but her nerves were getting the best of her. As her mind went over every possible outcome she heard the Jeralds leaving the house and Harry saying goodbye. She waited until their car drove off and down the street before peeking around the front and looked up at the porch to see Harry standing there with his hands on his hips looking right at her.

“Come on. Coast is clear.”

When Harry locked the front door behind them Y/n spoke finally, “Do you think that-“

Harry put his hand on hers, “I hope not. But they didn’t say anything. Nothing we can do about that now.”

“But what does that mean? What if-“

“Pet,” Harry spoke softly bringing his hand up to her face, his thumb at her cheekbone, “I said there’s nothing we can do about it. Now be a good girl for me and take your clothes off.”

Feedback/Thoughts | Support Me! | Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @love-all-things-writing @michellekstyles @golden-hoax @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @yousunshineyoutempter @the-gardener-31 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @harrys-foxy @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @lhharrylilpumpkin @evelynlarue @chaptersleftunwritten @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysmimi @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lllukulele @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus

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musings-of-a-rose · 7 months

Text

A New Life

Pairing: Clint “Freaky Tales” x f!readers (there’s 2, both have nicknames)

Word Count: 11,000+ (it's a long one, folks!)

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: a huge shoutout to @nerdieforpedro for beta reading this and giving me the confidence to actually hit post. And to Mr. Rose for helping me out of a corner.

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Clint Masterlist

CLINT

“No! No, please! Tell The Guy I'll step back from his territory!”

Clint stares down at the man who's now covered in his own blood, coughing and spitting up the red liquid onto the floor, splashing a little onto Clint's shoes. He looks at the man and grabs his hair, yanking his head back and staring him in the eyes, seeing fear at the rapidly approaching end of his life.

“Then you should've stopped when we warned you.”

Clint slides his knife into the man's abdomen, watching as the man coughs and sputters, small gasps all he can manage as the life leeches from his body. When he slumps, Clint knows it's over. He sits back, shaking his head and sighing, looking around at the mess all over the tarp he'd placed on the floor. I'm getting tired of this.

He cleans up and disposes of the body properly, his stomach rumbling by the end of his work. A quick glance at his watch tells him it's nearly 3am. He hopes there's still someplace open where he can at least get a cup of hot coffee.

He drives in the general direction of his apartment for nearly 15 minutes before he sees the neon OPEN sign on the side of a little corner diner. He parks around the back, adjusting his pants and smoothing down his shirt before heading inside, a little bell ringing as the door swings open. It's quiet, only one other person sitting at a booth in the back corner, a man who doesn't look when the bell dings, too absorbed in his own issues.

“Hey, hun! Have a seat wherever and I'll be right over!” The waitress calls from somewhere behind the counter. Clint looks around and finally settles on sitting at the counter, spinning to face the counter on the bar stool.

The waitress suddenly appears, smoothing out her skirt before turning to face him and when she does, Clint momentarily forgets how to breathe. She is the most gorgeous woman he's ever seen and her smile makes him feel warm and safe, things he hasn't felt since he was a child. And even then, that's debatable.

Her smile is bright and wide. “Sorry to make you wait! That damn sink pipe’s entire purpose is to annoy me, I swear. Want some coffee, hun?” She's already got the pot in her hand, regular, not decaf. He nods and she pours him a mug with a smile, sliding a small bowl with some creamer and sugar packets towards him.

“You look hungry. You a steak man?”

Clint pours one of the sugar packets into his black coffee. “I like steak.”

“Great! The steak here is-” She leans closer to him “-edible. But it's best in town at 3am!”

Clint chuckles, the sound almost unfamiliar to him. “Sounds perfect.”

She writes down his order and turns, placing the ticket in a clip and rotating it, dinging another bell so the cook knows he has an order.

“James? You back there? You have an order!”

There's some sort of affirmative grunted towards her that she accepts with a shake of her head, turning back to face Clint.

“James is a nice guy. Lost his hearing in one ear in the war. Sometimes you have to be a little louder for him. At his request of course.”

Clint nods and takes a sip of his coffee, expecting it to taste bitter and cheap, exactly like what you'd expect coffee at a diner open at 3am to taste like. But to his surprise, it doesn't. A pleasant mix of coffee beans washes over his tongue and he can't help a little moan escape him.

A different smile, this one more sly. “You enjoying your coffee?”

Clint feels the tips of his ears heat up. “Uh, yeah.”

“I'm glad you like it, Mr….” Her eyebrows raised and Clint chokes down his sip.

“Clint. No need for a Mr., ma'am.”

She waves her hand with another smile. “No ma'am here. I'm not that old!” She chuckles and tells him her name. “But everyone calls me Poppy.”

Poppy. He likes that name. It makes him feel happier somehow, like she's somehow taking care of him, not just because she's a waitress.

She continues chatting with him while she bustles around, cleaning things and restocking sugar trays, and cleaning menus, Clint chiming in now and again. The man in the back corner eventually leaves and they're alone in the diner together. Aside from James in the back, who had just set his plate down on the back counter.

“Thanks, James!”

“I'm going out for a smoke, Poppy.”

She gives him a thumbs up and James takes off his apron, walking out of the side door. Poppy turns and makes a little fanfare of bringing him his diner steak and potatoes, setting it down in front of him and then casually placing the A1 steak sauce next to him.

“You might need this.” She winks at him and he melts, what can only be described as butterflies in his stomach.

Get it together, Clint. You don't do this. You don't like people like this. Fall for people.

But then he's done with his steak, telling her some funny stories from his childhood. She's sitting across the bar from him, leaning on her elbows as she listens, laughing at all the right places. He's trying desperately hard to not be obvious in staring at her boobs, which had been pushed together tighter the more she leans forward.

“If you don't mind me asking, Poppy. Why are you working this shitty shift?”

She cocks her head to the side slightly, her eyes on his. “Someone has to be here to serve you.”

He nods. “Yes but why you?”

She waits a moment. “Maybe I'm just waiting for the right man to come on by.”

Shit. He had told himself she wasn't flirting, that she was just being nice to him for a tip. That he could just flirt a little and then be on his way. Normally, he'd take her out back and fuck her in his truck, promises to call again that he knows he'd never fulfill. But none of those women were her. None of them made him feel this way, her laugh and big eyes smiling at him while he sits here with blood on his hands and his past full of monsters.

So instead, he surprises himself.

“Can I take you to dinner sometime?”

She glances at the clock on the wall. “If you're not too tired, I'm off in an hour and you can take me for breakfast.”

He smiles an actual genuine smile. “Breakfast it is.”

The conversation flows between them at breakfast, both of them laughing and joking throughout it all. And at the end, he walks her to her car, asking her on another date before they reach it, her enthusiastic “yes” giving him the confidence to kiss her, his hands cupping her face as their lips melt together. He presses her back against the side of her car, his body aching to be with her, inside of her. But not like this. She's different. She's special. He wants to take his time with Poppy. So he pulls back, a promise to pick her up in 2 nights for dinner.

Clint takes her out on several more dates, falling harder for her each time he sees her, hears her laugh, sees how attentive she is towards him. He doesn't think he deserves her, knows he doesn't, but maybe she's his way out of his world of darkness and bad deeds. The world he's kept hidden from her, whether because he's afraid she'd leave him or he's too afraid to bring his darkness into her light he's not sure.

But Clint knows he can't leave her. He's gone too far.

2 weeks in, and his resolve to treat her like a lady, an actual relationship, which is what they'd finally called it, snaps when she opens her door in a black dress that accentuates everything about her that he loves.

“I know we were supposed to go out tonight Clint, but I thought maybe I could cook for you instead?” She looks nervously up at him and he knows right there, he'd do anything she asked him to.

“If it's not too much trouble.”

She shakes her her, chuckling lightly. “Not at all. Come on in.”

Clint follows her inside, hearing her lock the door behind him. He kicks his boots off and places them by the door.

“I thought we could have steak. A real one. Dear James does his best with what he has but…” her voice trails off and Clint chuckles.

“Steak sounds delicious.”

“Great! Would you like a quick drink before I start cooking? Or are you too hungry?”

“A drink sounds great, thanks.”

He takes a beer from her and she leads him to the couch. They both sit, taking sips from their drinks before setting them on the coffee table. He's nervous, his palms a little sweaty. Why is he so nervous? Clint looks at Poppy and he can see the way she's shifting around slightly, obviously nervous herself, which somehow gives him the confidence he needs. Confidence that he's never had a problem with before.

When he touches his lips to hers, he knows he belongs to her forever.

POPPY

I knew what I was doing, inviting Clint in for dinner instead of going to a restaurant as we had planned. But I wanted to take care of him, try and help quell that sadness and regret hidden just behind his eyes, the darkness he swallows and blinks away when our eyes meet, for the sake of me.

We settle on the couch, each taking a sip of our respective drinks before setting them on the coffee table. I see him wipe his palms across his jeans, a sweet, nervous gesture and I smile shyly, turning my head to the side to tuck some hair behind my ear. I look back up at him and find him looking at me already, his deep brown eyes seeing into me and I feel myself stepping off the cliff, diving headfirst into love. Could it be love this early? I’d felt it before once, in my youth. But I had been burned and so kept my heart behind a lock but somehow, Clint already had the key.

He keeps his eyes on mine when he slides closer to me, hesitating briefly before placing his hand on my bare thigh, my skin tingling where he touches me. I angle my body towards him a little more, feeling his large hand cup my cheek, a soft smile on his lips before he leans in, pressing his lips to mine. We’ve kissed plenty, made out in the back of his truck for hours and hours, but this is different. The energy has shifted, our paths fully converging to become one.

He slides his hand on my thigh up higher and I spread my legs for him, opening more than just my body to him. His fingertips brush against my panties and I inhale sharply against his lips, his hand stalling.

“Is..is this ok?” He asks, a nervous tremble in his voice.

“Please,” I whisper, begging him to touch me again. “Please touch me.”

He kisses me again, pushing his tongue into my eager mouth and I feel him between my legs again, gently stroking up and down, up and down, feeling how wet my underwear has become. He pushes aside my panties, slowly swirling one thick finger around me before pushing in, my whine breaking our kiss before he grunts out, mumbling something about how tight I feel.

He deepens the kiss, his finger gently stroking inside of me, brushing against me and I moan into his mouth, my legs twitching. When he stops, pulling away from me, I think I’ve done something wrong. But then he slides from the couch, getting on his knees, kissing my thighs as he hooks his fingers in my underwear, sliding them off and tossing them over his shoulder. He pushes my legs open wide, putting them over his shoulders as he stares between my legs, eyes dark and admiring.

He looks up at me and I nod, knowing what he wants even though I’m not really experienced with it. He places soft kisses on my inner thighs, slowly moving to where his hand had been moments before. When his tongue touches me, I gasp, a breathy “oh” escaping me while my thighs try to slam against his head of their own volition. He chuckles against me and I moan at the vibration, feeling him wrap his hands around my legs to push me open wider. His tongue is relentless, swirling around, tapping, and I reach for him, tangling my fingers into his hair and tugging on it when he lightly sucks on me.

“Oh…oh, I-” I break open, cry out as I come, Clint’s tongue guiding me through my release. I release his hair, my legs falling open as he sits back, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

He stands, offering me his hand and I take it, allowing him to pull me up against his body. He smells like cedar, a hint of cigarette smoke, and me, my head swimming with the scent of it all.

“Bedroom?” He asks, his eyebrows raised.

I nod, almost too much in my enthusiasm. “This way.”

I take his hand and lead him on wobbly legs down the small hallway to my bedroom, grateful that I had made the bed this morning. Clint closes the door behind himself and turns to look at me. Several long moments pass where we just look at each other, the energy in the air electric, as if he didn’t have his head between my legs just moments ago. He closes the distance between us in a step or 2, stopping just short of me.

“Turn.”

I do as he says, feeling his large hand work my zipper down, his fingers brushing against my skin as he pulls the dress down and off, coming back to do the same to my bra. He moves my hair off my neck, placing soft kisses there as one hand wraps around my boob and the other dips a finger between my thighs. My head lolls back and I moan, feeling him pinch and tug at my nipple as I get wetter and wetter. I can feel him nearly bulging out of his jeans, the denim pressed against my ass, so I gently grab his wrists and turn around.

I say nothing as I start to unbutton his flannel, sliding it down and off his broad shoulders, noting the appearance of a new scratch on his chest since the last time he’d taken his shirt off around me. I keep my eyes on his face as my hands unlatch his belt, popping open the button on his pants before carefully sliding down his zipper. I push his jeans down, getting on my knees to help slide them off of his legs. I look up at him as I pull down his underwear, a small grunt from him as he springs free. I want to return the favor, take him in my mouth but then his hand grips my chin, pulling me back to standing.

“I’d love to feel your mouth on me, but Poppy, I want to make love to you.”

He helps me lay back on the bed, his eyes roaming over my naked body, more dark loving than I’ve ever seen them.

“You’re so beautiful, Poppy.”

I spread my legs, allowing him to settle between them. He kisses me, soft at first, his mustache tickling my upper lip, his hands sliding across my body, goosebumps following in his wake. His lips travel down my neck, finding a spot just below the side of my jaw that has me squirming, my fingers burying themselves in his hair.

But then he pushes in and the world stops, nothing else in the world exists but us. We meld together, our bodies moving as one, slotting together like we were made for each other. I writhe under him, his hips breaking me open out of my cocoon, showing me what pleasure really is, what love really is. His hips thrust a little harder and I come, his name tumbling from my lips like a chant, praising him as my nails dig into his back. I feel his hips sputter, soft grunts and pants in my ear as he comes with me, his forehead coming to rest against mine.

“Holy shit,” he says, his breath puffing out against my face. “That was..”

“It was.”

He lifts his head and looks at me, kissing me softly before pulling out, and getting a washcloth to clean me up.

A steak dinner never tasted so good.

CLINT

He was the happiest he’d ever been. Poppy was a beacon of light in the darkness that was his life, always there to welcome him with open arms. It had only been a few weeks, but he loved her. He knew deep down that he never wanted to be without her.

He just felt so fucking guilty about it.

He was torn on telling her about his job, his real job, not the one he told her he did. He wasn’t a delivery man, although he did deliver whatever terrible fate that The Guy bestowed upon those who crossed him in business. He’d been a little too preoccupied tonight and his mark managed to slice his cheek with a knife before Clint snuffed the life from him.

But Poppy doesn’t even question it, just takes him into the bathroom and gently cleans his cut, dabbing some alcohol on it that burns, but not enough to distract him from the guilt he feels. He knows he has to get out.

A few months go by and he couldn’t be happier with Poppy. They had been dating for about 8 months and he wanted desperately to ask her to move in with him, but first he had to leave The Guy. He couldn’t have him showing up whenever he felt like it. No matter what, he would protect Poppy from that side of his life.

After he kills his next mark, he heads back to The Guy to give him his confirmation of delivery, so-to-speak.

“What would I do without you, Clint?”

Clint shifts his weight to his back leg, hands on his hips. “Actually, I need to talk to you about that.”

The Guy sits back in his chair, lacing his fingers together. “Oh?”

Clint clears his throat. “Yeah. I uh, I need to retire.”

The Guy raises an eyebrow. “Retire?”

“Yeah. My body isn’t what it used to be. My knees almost gave out tonight. I can’t continue like this.”

The guy sits there, his fingers still laced together as he studies Clint. “You have served me well, Clint. I’ll let you out, holding onto that evidence in case you try to cross me-”

“I would never. I’m not a snitch.”

The Guy holds up a hand. “I know. One can never be too careful these days. I think you get that?” Clint nods. “Good. I’ll let you out but I have one more delivery for you to make first. You’re the only one I can trust with it. What do you say?”

Clint stands there for a moment, thinking about his options. He only has one. “Deal.”

They shake on it, The Guy gives him the details, and Clint is out the door, feeling a little lighter now that he can see the light at the end of the tunnel. He’s finally getting out, starting a new life free of bloodshed with the love of his life.

He killed that last mark in near record time, The Guy shaking his hand and thanking him for all of his hard work.

He knows she’s on the late shift again tonight, so after he cleans up, Clint heads over to the diner, their diner, watching Poppy move about through the dusty window. She smiles at a customer, but when Clint walks in and she sees him, her entire faces lights up, her eyes beaming as she crosses the room, pressing her lips to his and forgetting herself for a few seconds before pulling back, her face hot.

“Clint! To what do I owe this surprise?”

“Move in with me.”

He hadn’t meant to ask it like that, so blunt and harsh. But he couldn’t wait anymore and it sort of just came out when he opened his mouth. Surprise on her face, her eyes widening for a moment before that smile splits her face again, the one she has only for him.

“When can I get my things?”

They get married exactly 1 year from the day they met.

“Poppy! What are you doing?” Clint rushes into the kitchen, quickly snatching the knife Poppy was using to spread peanut butter on her sandwich.

“Clint, I’m pregnant, not sick. I can do it myself.”

“The doctor said to rest.”

She smiled, a soft smile and squeezed his bicep. “The doctor said for me to relax the last 2 months. Not stay in bed entirely.”

Clint sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just..let me do things for you, ok? Have a seat on the couch and I’ll bring your food.”

Poppy looks like she wants to argue for a moment, but then gives in, tossing her hands in the air before heading into the living room.

“And don’t forget the-”

“Apples. I got it, Poppy.”

Clint arranges 2 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and some apple slices on a plate, also grabbing a glass of water to set on the coffee table in front of her. She reaches for the plate with grabby hands, smiling and shifting her weight as she settles in, making light work of the food before downing half the glass of water.

“Thanks, babe.”

Clint puts his arm around her shoulders and kisses her head. “Anything for you.” He shifts a little. “You need a foot massage?”

“The day I turn down a foot massage, just know I’m a clone.”

Clint chuckles as he helps Poppy turn, laying back on the couch, her head on the arm. He takes one of her feet in his hands and starts to work them, spending extra time on the knots and sore spots. The sounds Poppy makes has him shifting in his seat, his hands starting to work up her legs. He gets to her upper thighs, leaning down to press kisses along her inner thigh before she gently grabs his wrist.

“Hey now, that’s what put this here,” she gestures to her belly.

Clint presses another kiss to her inner thigh, higher up this time, listening as her breath hitches. “Well then, let me help you relax.”

Clint spends the next hour buried between her legs, Poppy’s fingers twisting in his hair, his fingers digging into her legs as she chants his name over and over and he thinks this would be the perfect way to go: smothered between his wife’s thighs.

“And that makes the last payment! Will you be taking home the crib today, sir?”

Clint puts his wallet in his pocket, nodding to the cashier. “I’ve got my truck out front.”

“Let me call for some help.” The cashier leans over her mic and asks for someone named John to come to the front for customer assistance. She makes idle chit chat with Clint, asking how his wife is doing so close to her due date.

“She’s stubborn and better be sitting her ass down and letting me take care of her,” Clint chuckles along with the cashier.

“Don’t be too hard on her. She is fighting that nesting urge. It’s hard to resist, trust me!”

John comes up and takes the other end of the large box that contains a beautiful wooden crib that Poppy had laid eyes on months ago, determined to have that exact one for their baby. Clint had put it on layaway that same day, making sure he’d pay it off in time to assemble it before the baby’s arrival. He thanks John and takes off, glancing in the back at the box and smiling a little, already envisioning Poppy’s ecstatic face when she sees what he’s brought home. He turns onto their gravel drive, pulling into his parking spot and shifting the truck to park. He glances up at the house before reaching for the handle and freezes.

The door is cracked open.

It’s very unlike Poppy to leave the door open, even when bringing in groceries. Clint’s eyes remain glued to the door, but he leans over to open the glovebox, carefully extracting the handgun he had stashed there. He checks the make sure it’s loaded before getting out of the truck, cautiously moving towards the front door, his stomach twisting tighter and tighter the closer he got.

There were wood chips on the front step, an indication that this was not simply a case of forgetting to close the door. Someone had broken in. Gently, he pushes the door open, waiting a moment and hears nothing. He steps inside, gun raised and ears on high alert for anything, any sound. The main hall and living room are empty, aside from furniture tossed about, some of it destroyed. But as he cuts through the dining room just about to reach the kitchen, his boot slips and he looks down, choking back the fear and panic that immediately threatened to take him over.

Blood.

He pushes into the kitchen, eyes roaming around at the mess and then he steps around the island, dropping to the floor and tossing the gun aside.

“Poppy? Oh God Poppy? Can you hear me?” He cradles her head in his lap, tears flowing down his cheeks. Her color is pale and he can’t tell where the blood is coming from exactly. But then she blinks and he lets out a choking cry as she looks at him.

“Hey baby! Don’t move. I’m gonna call someone.”

“C…Cl…Clint…” Her words are choked and he can tell she’s holding back tears.

“Ssshh don’t talk, baby. You’ll be alright. I’m here now.” He reaches up on the counter, hand tapping around and landing on the phone before pulling it down to him. He quickly dials 9-1-1, barking at the responder to send an ambulance immediately before Poppy calls his name again and he drops the phone.

“They’re coming, Poppy. Just hold on.”

“Clint…I…I love you.”

“Hey now, none of that. You’re going to be ok, you hear me?” His throat is tight, his stomach churning as he pets her head, wiping the blood onto his pants.

“Please..be happy. I want…want you to be..be happy.”

“I will be happy because you’ll be here with me.” He cradles her head in his lap, the tears falling harder and she reaches up, a wavering hand smeared with blood that she places on his cheek. Their eyes meet and in them he can see her resolve, her sorrow not for her own life but for him, for not being able to be here for him.

“Be happy, Clint. Have..have a good life. I can’t wait-” she gasps and closes her eyes for a moment before blinking them open and he can already see the glossiness in them. “-can’t wait to hear..all about it. I…I love you, Clint.”

He swallows hard. “I love you too, baby.”

She smiles, one last time before she slumps, the light in her eyes that hard brightened his life gone, snuffed out too soon. Clint wails, yells, screams, and sobs into the empty house, holding her close. The pain is too loud, too raw and real, threatening to overtake him. But then people are in their house, his house, trying to take her from him. He fights back, yelling and screaming they can’t take her from him, and then he feels a sting in his neck before the world blacks out around him.

It’s a bright and sunny day, the sky a vibrant shade of blue, and just the right amount of fluffy, white clouds in the sky. Poppy would call it the most perfect of days, warm but not too warm, the perfect day to spend outside.

Clint blinks in the sunlight as he watches them lower 2 caskets into the ground, one considerably smaller than the other, the priest saying some sort of prayer over them as the people gathered around shed their tears. Clint picks up a handful of dirt, holding it in his hand for a few moments while he stares down at the wooden boxes that contain his family, his future, all taken from him in the blink of a violent eye. He always thought he’d be the one to go out that way, in a bloody mess. But not them. They didn’t deserve this.

Clint tosses the dirt on the caskets and steps back, letting her parents toss handfuls on top as well, not really hearing them when they bring him in for a hug and mumble something about coming over for dinner. He doesn’t hear any of them as they file past him, patting his shoulder, telling him if he needs anything to just call. That they were all here for him. But what he needs the most, they can’t provide. No one can bring them back, bring her back.

Clint returns home, skipping the wake at her parents’ house for some quiet contemplation. The house is nearly silent, only the clock on the wall and the hum of the appliances make any sort of noise. Clint sits at the little table they had in the kitchen, staring down at the floor where he had held her for the last moments of her life.

He had cried so much since then, wailing and screaming at the world, begging whomever is listening to take him instead, that he would gladly switch places with them, give up his sorry life for them to have a chance. But of course, nothing happened besides his throat hurting, his eyes stinging from overuse.

But as he stares at the floor, depression and sorrow washing over him, a small thought ticks at the back of his head. He initially had thought it was a random break in, not all uncommon in Oakland. But when he had picked up the pieces of his broken life, he had noticed that nothing had been missing. All of Poppy’s jewelry, despite most of it being costume jewelry, was still there, so was the tv and pretty much everything else. It hadn’t clicked then, too preoccupied in his immediate grief to really think.

This wasn’t a random act of violence. This was targeted. This was specific. This was for him.

Clint hates himself anew, burying his face in his hands at the idea of him being the cause of their death. But then it hits him, washes over him and changes his purpose. Once it was to take care of her, of his family, but that had been ripped away and so had his future, his purpose.

Vengeance.

He had nothing left to lose. Nothing that anyone could possibly take from him. So why not go out in a blaze of violence, taking down everyone that was connected to his wife and child’s death.

Clint pushes his sorrow aside, locking it away gently as he gets to work locating those who would soon meet their day of judgement.

Several months later…

Clint sits in his truck, staring at the entrance to a seedy bar, watching a few wayward souls enter, one punching the other in the arm before the door closes behind them. He glances down at the paper in his hand, triple checking that he had the address right. He takes out a lighter and burns the paper, waiting until the last embers fade out before getting out of his truck and heading inside.

He sits at the bar and orders a drink, taking a few sips before flagging down the bartender again, asking him if he recognizes a few names. The bartender, a middle aged man with eyes that had seen war, stares at him for a few moments before nodding towards a corner, a small group of men standing around the pool table. Clint thanks the bartender, leaving a large tip on the counter before turning in his stool to watch the men. There were 4 of them and they were already towing the line between buzzed and drunk, slightly stumbling around before taking their shots.

Clint moves silently over, quietly sliding his blade into 2 of them, not waiting for their bodies to crumble to the floor before the other two even noticed he was there. One tried to swing at him, which he dodges easily, his blade quieting the man’s movements. The last guy, Rick, backed into a corner, desperately fumbling with something he had in the back of his pants, presumably a gun. Clint takes 2 large steps towards him, a second too late to see the man stop searching for the gun and grab a knife instead, swinging it wide and slicing into Clint’s side.

Clint stumbles, grunting for a moment before straightening up, dodging the man’s swings, ignoring the yelps from the other bar patrons as Rick swings wildly, knife cutting into the air just in front of Clint. He gets a few more blows in, pain searing into Clint before he grabs Rick’s wrist, turning it with a crack, Rick yelping in pain as his knife drops to the floor. Clint gets his knife to Rick’s side, pinning him against the wall.

“You killed my family.”

“Wh..what?”

Clint presses the knife a little harder and Rick grunts in pain. “You killed my family.”

“Look look look. I don’t know who you are, man!” Another small push and Rick yelps again. “Can you be more specific?”

Clint glares at him. “In my kitchen. Woman. Pregnant.”

The color seems to drain from the man’s face as he recognizes the situation. “Oh..oh..well, listen, we were just given’ the assignment, right? No hard feelings. We were just doing what we were told!”

“Who told you?”

“Ah, look man. I can’t just-” Clint pushes the knife further, feeling warmth start to seep out around the knife. “-ok ok! Fuck, stop! I’ll tell you!” He whispers a name to Clint, a name that sounded vaguely familiar. Frances Stokes. He thinks he’s worked with him before.

“Is that all?” Clint barks out.

Rick furiously nods his head. “Yes, yes!”

“Thanks.” Clint drives the knife further in and up, waiting for Rick to slump over. But when he turns around, the barrel of a gun is pointed at him, the bartender obviously nervous.

“Get out of here, man! Just go!”

Clint doesn’t need telling twice. He doubts anyone in here will say anything, each of them involved in their other dark dealings to be in a place like this. Clint makes it to the front door, stumbling out onto the sidewalk, his hand clutched to his side. He glances down at his hand, seeing the crimson shine in the street light. He glances up and for a moment is transported: a woman, the same hair as Poppy’s stares back at him, only a few feet away, eyes wide as she takes him in.

“Look out!” She yells at him, just in time for Clint to turn, stopping the man that had been running up behind him with a fist to his stomach. They both fall to the ground, rolling and punching before Clint gets on top, letting his fists fly as the guy’s head slams against the pavement. Clint shifts off of him, turning to see the woman still there, her hair like a shining beacon before he feels himself falling backwards, the blackness swallowing him.

Sunlight warms his face and for a moment, Clint feels transported. Like he was at home, safe in his bed with-

He blinks awake, reality slamming into him as he remembers punching the guy out before blacking out. His head feels like it’s splitting in 2, and his side hurts bad, like he had been stabbed - wait. He had been stabbed. He tries to sit up, groaning and laying back down when his head felt like it was splitting open.

“Hey, he lives! I wouldn’t sit up just yet.”

Clint blinks rapidly a few times, the disembodied voice trying to permeate its way into the meat that is his brain right now. But then a person moves into his vision and it all comes flooding back: the woman from outside the bar. The one with hair just like Poppy’s.

“Where..” Clint coughs, just realizing how dry his mouth is.

“Take it easy. I have some water here with a straw.” The woman grabs a cup off the side table and holds it next to him, pinching the straw inbetween her thumb and pointer finger so it stays in place. Clint debates for a moment on taking the drink from a stranger, but then again, if she had wanted to kill him, she’d have left him on that sidewalk. So he takes a few greedy sips before she pulls the straw from his mouth.

“Take it easy. Small sips.”

“Throat..dry.”

“Yeah, I know. You’ve been out for 2 days. But you have to take small sips so you don’t overload your system.”

Clint nods and the straw returns. He does as she says and realizes she was right. She sets the cup back on the side table.

“Where am I?” Clint lets out a small cough.

“You’re at my apartment. I couldn’t just leave you there, not after you took care of that man.”

The man. Right. “He ok?”

“I shouldn’t have bothered checking him, not after he nearly attacked me, but I’m a nurse and I took an oath so,” She gestures vaguely around the room. “He died on the sidewalk.”

Well that’s one less thing he has to worry about. “You don’t seem shaken about that.”

Her eyes go somewhere else for a moment before she blinks. “I’m no stranger to death.”

Silence rules the room for several long moments.

“Are you hungry? I have some pain pills but we should get some food in you too. I also have some clean towels and clothes in the bathroom if you’d like to shower.”

“I think food sounds good.”

She nods and heads out of the room, distant sounds coming from the kitchen. Clint looks around the room. It was obviously her bedroom, sparsely decorated but a few photos of presumably family sit in frames on her dresser, as does an empty vase. She has a random poster on the wall, a movie poster for The Thing. The blanket he has is soft and light blue, but not frilly like he’d expect. But it is warm and comforting. She comes back in with a tray, a bowl of vegetable soup and a grilled cheese sandwich sitting on it, a glass of water off to the side. She places it on the dresser and walks to him.

“Let me help you sit up.”

“Oh, I don’t want to mess your sheets up.”

She waves her hand. “Don’t worry about it. I can always get new sheets.”

She helps him sit up, Clint holding his head for several moments before the searing pain abates. She puts the tray over his lap, tapping on the tray next to 2 small pills. “Make sure to take those now and eat some food after. I’ll let you eat.”

Clint reaches for the pills. “Thanks, Flo.”

She cocks her head and looks at him. “Flo?”

Clint pops the pills in his mouth, taking a few more sips of water to swallow them with, hoping they act fast. “Yeah. Like Florence Nightingale. The nurse?”

She smiles and tells him her name. “But Flo. I like it.”

That night, Flo insists he takes her bed again, that he needs the space to recover. He tries to argue but she’ll have none of it, promptly telling him goodnight and to yell if he needs anything before closing the door most of the way.

The pain in his side keeps him from getting a good sleep, pain throbbing out from the wound Flo had stitched up. He didn’t want to bother her, he could just grunt through it, but then she was there, softly pushing the door open and rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Fuck, didn’t mean to wake you, Flo.”

She yawns and stretches, her sleep shirt lifting a little and exposing a sliver of skin. “You didn’t. I have to get up for work anyway. But I can see you’re in pain. The meds not working?”

He shakes his head. “Not really.”

“That happens sometimes when you gain consciousness. Give me a minute.” She disappears into the other room and returns a few minutes later, some scrubs tossed quickly on. She has a small pill bottle in her hand and she shakes one out, handing it to Clint.

“You can have one of these now but not another until I get home, ok? It’s pretty strong so don’t go mixing it with alcohol or anything.”

Clint nods. “Got it.” He pops the pill and swallows it, thanking Flo as she sets down some food next to him.

“I’m going to be home this evening, but if you need me, here’s my work number. Just ask for me.” She sets a piece of paper down next to the phone on the nightstand. She pauses for a moment and looks at him. “I’ll uh..see you tonight.”

The meds kick in when she leaves and mercifully, they knock him out, Clint finally able to get the sleep his body desperately needed.

Fuck, getting injured at his age was not fun. Stabbings hurt a lot more than they used to. When Flo gets home she brings him more food, then has him take another pain pill. He passes out again, his dreams carrying him to dark places with familiar violent themes. He thrashes about, trying to rid himself of the images, and is yanked from his nightmare by a hand squeezing his shoulder. Clint’s eyes fly open and Poppy is standing there, her hair framing her face. He reaches out to touch her cheek, his fingers barely touching her soft skin.

“Poppy?”

She’s saying something that he can’t make out, so he shakes his head and blinks a few times. But when he opens them, he sees Flo standing there, worry etched in her features.

“Clint! Are you with me?”

He puts his hand to his head and nods. “I…I think so.”

She puts her hand on his chest, trying to help him slow his breathing. “Are you ok? You were making a lot of noise.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. Are you ok?”

He takes a moment, his head still foggy. “I…will be. I think.”

She stands there for another moment. “Who’s Poppy?”

Clint's eyes harden as he glares at her. “What did you say?”

Flo pulls her hand back, regret in her eyes. “Poppy. You were calling her name. Is it someone I can call for-”

“NO! Don’t ever say that name again! Get out!”

Flo nods and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. Tears immediately fall down his cheeks and he buries his face in the pillow, remembering the first and last time he’d seen Poppy.

It was nearly a week before he could tolerate not being on those heavy pain meds. Basic ones now worked just as well and his head started to clear. He was having flashes of memories from the week but nothing concrete. He did feel like he needed to apologize to Flo but for what, he couldn’t clearly remember.

Clint walks to the kitchen, the movement feeling good. He puts together a dinner of sorts, random things he can find in Flo’s fridge that seems to just have ingredients, nothing premade. He just sits on the couch, taking a bite of a sandwich when the front door opens and Flo walks in, gently shaking out her coat before hanging it on the hook.

“Raining?” Clint asks, his mouth still full of sandwich.

“Oh, hey! Yeah. Not so bad here but it was pouring by the hospital.” She moves around to sit next to him on the couch, her eyes studying him. “How are you feeling?”

“So much better. I really can’t thank you enough.”

She glances down at his plate with his small sandwich. “Why don’t I whip us up something warm? Just give me a few minutes to wash off the day.”

“Oh you don’t-”

“I have to eat too. I’ll just make more.”

She made something called pesto pasta, which Clint had never heard of before. It was different but he would eat it again for sure. They watched some game show and then the news before Flo was yawning.

“You want to take your bed back tonight?”

“No, that’s ok. You take it. I’ve got my own little nest going out here.”

Clint chuckles. “If you’re sure.”

He gets ready for bed and sits down to get comfortable. It was then he noticed that he had left his medicine in the living room. Before he could do anything, there was a soft knock at the door and Flo comes in carrying the pain meds.

“You forgot these. Figured you’d want them.”

“Thanks.” Clint takes the bottles and pops them open, swallowing the pills with the glass of water on the nightstand. Flo turns to leave but Clint stops her.

“Wait. Can I ask you something?”

Flo turns around to look at him. “Sure.”

“Did I…did I do or say anything to you when I was on those big meds?”

Her face hardens slightly. “Nothing I’m not used to. It’s ok.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry. What did I say?”

“It’s ok, really. I’ve had worse.”

“It’s not ok to me.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Flo, please. Tell me.”

She hesitates a moment, her eyes bouncing between his before she sits on the bed.

“You were making a lot of noise one night and I came in to check on you. Your eyes opened but I don’t think you were really seeing things. You kept calling me Poppy. And when I asked who she was, you flipped out.”

Clint’s jaw tightens as the memory floods back. Her hair. That’s what made him think…

“Listen, you don’t have to tell me, Clint. I just wanted to know if I needed to call someone-”

“Poppy…was my wife.”

“Oh.”

Silence stretches on for several seconds before Clint swallows hard, continuing.

“She was…the love of my life. Made me a better man. Great woman. We got married…got pregnant. And then…” Clint clears his throat, blinking back tears, Flo waiting patiently, letting him take his time.

“I came home one day and they were…I held her while she…died.” He whispers the last word, but it’s like he yelled it, screamed it. He’d never talked about it with anyone, not even Poppy’s parents.

Flo puts her hand on his and squeezes. “I’m so sorry, Clint.” He just nods, trying not to lose his shit in front of her.

“You have her hair. It’s almost exactly like hers. So I guess I saw it and mixed with the meds, I thought…you were her.”

Flo nods, squeezing his hand a little harder. “I understand.”

Clint looks at her, his eyes hardening slightly. “How would you understand? How would you know what it’s like?”

She takes a deep breath before puffing it out. “I was engaged once. High school sweethearts. We were waiting to get married until we were out of school. Anyway, he was taking night classes and one night, this other guy decided it would be super fun to get drunk and drive….I lost my future that night. And I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

Fuck. So she did know exactly how it feels.

“You remind me of him sometimes.” She says it so quietly Clint almost misses it.

“I do?”

“Yeah. It’s not…it’s in your small movements, the way the light hits your hair sometimes. So..I get it. Honestly, it’s just nice having someone else here. Someone who gets it.”

“Yeah. It is.” Clint squeezes her hand back and she looks at him, her eyes big in the lamp light, the glow bouncing off her hair and looking just like Poppy’s.

Their hands stay intertwined for several long moments, Clint rubbing his thumb gently over the back of her hand. She scoots a little closer to him, her hand gently sliding up his arm. Clint’s breath picks up as her hand cups his cheek and they lock eyes, both silently asking the other if this was ok. Clint hesitates for a moment before slowly lowering his head to hers, their lips gently touching. Flo’s lips are soft and a little more plush than Poppy’s, but her tongue timidly brushing against his lips is all the permission he needs.

His hand slides to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulls her close, his tongue dancing with hers. She moans softly, clutching at his shirt and he feels his pants growing tighter. Flo pulls back slightly, resting her forehead against his.

“Bedroom. Nurse’s orders.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Flo takes his hand and leads him to the bedroom, the door closing behind them. For a moment they stare at each other, another moment of confirmation before she starts to pull her shirt off, the rest of her clothes following. Clint matches her actions, his own clothes falling into a pile on the floor. His eyes roam over her body before stepping forward, pulling her face to his again. Her fingers glide up the sides of his body, her warmth pressing into him and it all feels so intense, but not bad. He walks her backwards, her legs hitting the bed and she breaks the kiss to climb up it, Clint crawling over her, Flo’s legs opening to give him space. Her hands lightly squeeze his biceps, which feels nice but then the light from outside hits her hair a certain way and for a moment he’s transported, sees Poppy.

His hips push against hers as his hand grips her hair, her heat enveloping him as she moans, her legs wrapping around him. He blinks and it’s Flo again, but as he works his hips against hers, the light catches every now and then in her hair, he gets flashes of Poppy.

Fuck, this feels good. It had been so long since he’d held someone, felt them touch him like this. He had been alone for too long, not letting himself live fully. He felt guilty, even with Poppy telling him to live his life. His eyes find Flo’s and he can tell she goes somewhere else occasionally too, his guilt slightly lessening at the thought he’s bringing her some comfort like she is him.

He can feel himself getting closer to the edge. He licks his fingers and snakes them between their bodies, teasing her between her legs. He can feel her starting to squirm, her breaths starting to pick up. Clint grabs her hand with his free one, lacing their fingers together as he pushes her hand into the mattress slightly above her head. Her fingers dig into his skin but the second she tightens around him he comes, burying his face in her hair.

When he rolls off of her, Clint pulls her to him, feeling her nuzzle further into his chest before falling asleep. He stays awake a little longer, gently tracing shapes on her back as he thinks.

In the morning, just before the sun rises, he gets dressed, gathering up the handful of personal items he had. He hesitates briefly, staring down Flo as she sleeps. He presses a kiss to her head, silently thanking her for everything she had done for him before he steps out into the morning light, back into his life of violence.

A Few Months Later…

“You thought you could just kill my family and nothing would happen?” Clint twists the knife he had in the man’s leg, smirking when he screams out in pain.

“N..no!”

“Then why did you come for them?” Clint taps the knife and the man whimpers.

“I wasn’t…we weren’t going to.” Tears were streaming down the man’s face, fear at seeing the end of his life.

“But then you decided to try and find me? Why?”

The man takes a shuddering breath. “Will you not kill me if I tell you?”

Clint grips the knife and the man cries out. “How about I’ll kill you if you don’t?”

“OK! OK!” He takes another breath, inhaling sharply through his nose. “We weren’t trying to seek revenge. But then one day, we get invited to this house and get handed everything on you. Who you are, where you live, all of it.”

Clint cocks his head. “Who gave it to you? Why?”

“They..they said they would give us a chance at revenge. Only if we promise to…to take you out.”

“Take me out. Why did you kill my wife?”

The man blinks, swallowing hard. “We were told to since she was…since your line would be carried on.”

Clint had to take several deep breaths so he didn’t turn this man inside out. He still needed one more piece of information. Someone had betrayed him, and he had a strong feeling he knew who. He swallows down his rage and looks the man in his eyes.

“Who?” He grunts it through gritted teeth and the man shivers.

“He’ll kill me.”

Clint twists the knife hard and the man screams, jerking around against his restraints. “Who?”

The man seems to rethink his situation. “The….The Guy.”

That was the answer Clint was hoping not to hear but had a suspicion he would. It was the only thing that made sense. The Guy didn’t want him to quit, his best hitman. He knew the only way Clint would come back would be to have someone take away his new life. And The Guy made sure of that.

Before the man could beg, Clint yanked the knife from his leg and slit his throat, waiting until the gurgling and sputtering stopped, his body still before he sighs, getting to work on cleaning up the mess. But his mind was elsewhere, planning and plotting. Which is why he didn’t hear another man coming up behind him until it was too late, his body falling sideways and slamming into the ground.

The man gets on top of him, pulling out a knife. Clint dodges as best he can, but he does get a good knick on his shoulder. Grunting, Clint throws his body weight and the man, a lot skinnier than him, gets thrown off balance. Clint pushes up and manages to flip them, gripping the man’s wrist and slamming it against the floor, the knife clattering across the ground. No weapon in hand, Clint reaches for the man’s head, but his shoulder sends searing pain down his arm. He must have dislocated it when he hit the ground. Instead, Clint grabs the man’s hair, slamming his head into the ground until he stops moving. He gets off the man and sits for a moment to catch his breath, his shoulder throbbing.

Well this will make cleaning up suck.

He can’t go to the hospital, but he knows he needs stitches. He can’t do it himself because of his fucking shoulder, which is just violently throbbing at this point. He knows where he can go, but should he? Finally, he gives in, knowing he has no other option. It’s not that he doesn’t want to see Flo, he does. He really does. But that’s the exact reason he shouldn’t go. He doesn’t need to bring his shit to her.

He sighs, knocking on her door. It takes a moment but the door opens and there she is, almost glowing, just gorgeous. And for a moment, he’d forgotten why he was there.

“Oh! You’re bleeding!” Flo takes his hand but he jerks it back.

“Shoulder is dislocated.”

“You’re just all kinds of fun. Come on in.”

Clint heads inside, kicking off his boots before following Flo into the kitchen. She pulls out a chair from the table and motions for him to sit down as she goes to get her med kit. She returns a moment later and sets it on the table, moving to stand next to him.

“I take it you’ve had a dislocated shoulder before?”

Clint looks up, her eyes big and round and he momentarily wonders why he had left. He nods, preparing himself while she gets into position, gripping him.

“Ready?”

“Just do it.”

Flo nods, looking down at his arm. “1…2…I’m pregnant.”

“What?! FUCK!” His arm pops back into place, the initial sharp pain quieting down to a dull ache. Flo hands him some pain meds and a glass of water but he pushes them away.

“What the fuck did you say?”

“Take these. You’ll need them. I’ll also sling your arm.”

“Fuck the sling. Flo, you’re…you’re pregnant?”

She takes the sling off the table, not meeting his eyes yet. She helps him get situated in the sling and reaches for the alcohol to start dabbing at his other arm. Clint had completely forgotten about the knife gash. But before she starts, he grabs her wrist, giving it a little shake so she’ll look at him. She sighs and meets his gaze, worry etched in her face.

“I..am.”

“Who…am…am I…”

“I’ve only been with you since the accident.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He didn’t mean to get her pregnant. Fuck, this is not what either of them need. It’s not that he doesn’t want the kid. He would love to be a dad, was going to be a dad before…fuck. He has to kill The Guy or he’d find them and kill them too. FUCK. He has to protect them. Clint is so wrapped up in his thoughts that he doesn’t even feel it when Flo starts to sew his wound, tying it off and putting a bandaid over it.

“You should be all set. Just try not to fuck with that shoulder too much.”

Clint’s mind clears and he focuses on the main objective: to keep Flo and his unborn child safe. He can’t let them die for him, for his mistakes. He will never let that happen again, even if it kills him.

“I’ve gotta go.” Clint abruptly stands and pushes past a bewildered Flo, grabbing his keys and closing the door gently behind him. It never occurs to him to say anything to Flo. She doesn’t need to know about this. About any of it. He’s so absorbed in his thoughts, he doesn’t hear the sobs coming from inside the home as he walks away from it.

It takes him another month to locate The Guy’s new hiding place. He imagines it would be difficult for anyone to find - anyone who doesn’t know The Guy like he does. Clint watches from his steakout point, his eyes hardening and his brain sliding into his job mode, compartmentalizing what he needs to do to protect his family. What he should’ve done before.

The bodyguards at the door hesitate when Clint walks towards them, but soon they are silenced, slumping to the ground before they even had time to draw their guns. Quietly, Clint moves inside, making his way down the hall, silencing another several guards. The Guy really needed to hire better employees. He pauses outside of what looks like a main door, listening. From inside, he hears a familiar voice, a voice that has commanded him to do so many violent things for him.

“I don’t care what it takes, I want it done!” A phone slams down, The Guy sighs. “I swear, it’s so hard to find good help these days.”

Clint listens for a few minutes, hearing no other movement behind the door aside from The Guy, assuming he was alone in his office. Clint takes a deep breath and stands straight, holding his gun at the ready before pushing in the door and aiming his gun directly at The Guy. When Clint enters, The Guy glances up, all color draining from his face. He was totally alone and he knew from looking at Clint that the cat was out of the bag.

“H-hey Clint. How’s retired life?”

“Why?”

Beads of sweat start to drip down The Guy’s temples. “Why what?”

“Why did you kill them?”

He seems to debate for a moment, settling on the truth instead of pretending he didn’t know. “Look man, good workers are hard to find. And you were the best. You did everything for me and so when you wanted to leave….well, you knew too much.”

“So you took out my family?”

The Guy shrugs. “I figured maybe you’d come back if you had nothing left. Besides, I couldn’t have you continuing your line if they’d go to work for someone-”

POP!

Clint fires his gun, hitting The Guy directly in the forehead, his body crumbling to the ground. He listens for a moment, but no one comes running. No one else is here. Clint lowers his gun, dropping to his knees and buries his face in his hands, wailing and screaming, as he gets closure on the last chapter of his life.

Clint stands in front of Flo’s door, hesitating for a moment before knocking. He had been sitting in front of her apartment for another 2 weeks, making sure no one was casing the joint. But no one would - Clint had taken out the remainder of The Guy’s associates. No one would be coming for them.

The door opens and Flo stands before him looking absolutely breath taking. Her eyes widen and her mouth nearly drops on the floor.

“Clint?” She whispers it, hesitating for a moment before reaching her hand out.

“It’s me.”

SLAP!

Clint rubs at his cheek, chuckling a little to himself at the assault. He deserved that. He deserved more than that.

“What the fuck Clint? I tell you I’m pregnant with your baby and you just leave? Not even a word?”

He holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry, Flo. But I had to…had to make sure you were safe.”

“I don’t expect you to be involved, but you could’ve- safe?”

He nods. ”Can I come in?”

She studies him, her eyes somehow seeing through him and she nods, opening the door. “Lock it behind you.”

This time, he decides to tell her everything, about his past life, about what happened to Poppy, what he’d done now to protect them. How he couldn’t let it happen again, not when he has the chance to have a family again. To his surprise, when he was done, she flung her arms around his neck and hugged him, holding him tight. He hugs her back, swallowing down some tears and melting into her embrace. It’s several long moments before she pulls back, cupping his face with her soft, warm hands.

“It’s not your fault, Clint.”

He looks down, shrugs a little. “But-”

“You can’t control what other’s do. Poppy knew that. Why do you think her last words were of love and not revenge? She doesn’t blame you, Clint. She would want you to be happy. So, be happy. Even if…even if that’s not with us.”

His eyes snap to hers and he’s surprised to find tears there. “Do you want me to leave? I understand if you-”

“No!” She grips his face a little tighter. “No. I want you here, but I need all of you here. We need it. But if you can’t, I understand.”

“You…you want me? Even though I’ve…I’m a violent…”

She cuts him off by pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Look, I knew you were in some shit when we met. I’m not stupid. You came tumbling out of that bar stabbed and then tussled with another guy. I had to patch you up and you bled all over my floor. I figured you were in some shit. This is Oakland. But..you were also gentle with me and patient, even when I told you about my past and I thought…we had that moment and I know we were both a little in our heads during it, but it was..fuck, it was nice having someone, especially someone who..gets it. I like you, Clint. I don’t expect you to like me in the same way, but however you want to be involved in our lives, that’s fine with me.”

How the fuck did he lead such a violent and fucked up life, all the shit he’s done, and he managed to find not one but two amazing women who just cared for him despite it? Poppy never knew exactly what he did, but Clint always suspected she knew he wasn’t really a delivery driver. She just never pressed. Just carried on loving him.

Clint reaches forward, cupping her face in his hand this time. “I want to be involved with the baby. And I’d…I’d like to see where this goes,” he gestures between them and she smiles, realizing his intent.

“Really?”

“Really. But know that no matter what happens, I’ll always be here for both of you.”

Clint and Flo dated for a month or so before they decided it was easier to just move in together. They found a little place for their growing family, a little 2 bedroom place in a better area of town. Clint had had some extra money after taking out The Guy (and raiding his safe) and happily moved them all in. Clint is there for every weird craving, anytime she wanted something at 3am, foot massages, all of it. He loved being there for her, talking to her belly, but also being with her. Flo was the first person to help him realize that he still deserved love. And even if he didn’t believe it, he knew that Flo deserved it and he would spend the rest of his time making sure she had it.

Their son Christopher came screaming into the world right on time. They got him cleaned up, wrapped in blankets and a little tiny hat and handed him to Clint. He gently takes Christopher in his arms, walking over to Flo who was still laying on the bed. Tears well in his eyes as he stares down at his son, Flo leaning her head on his arm and he sighs, happy that he’s finally getting the life he wanted.

General Taglist:

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#clint x reader #clint x you #pedro pascal #clint x f!reader #clint x female reader #clint #freaky tales #freaky tales ff #freaky tales fanfiction #freaky tales fanfic #clint fanfic #clint fic #clint ff #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character ff #pedro pascal characters

105 notes · View notes

crabonfire · 2 years

Note

Oh no! The [merc class] has been captured! An enemy team member is preparing for torture/interrogation... Right?

Maybe not!

"You know, I've told them dozens of times to give me clear orders. But today I've been ordered to, and I quote, "take good care of [class]". So that's exactly what I'm going to do."

And then they give the captive a massage/mani-pedi/tea party idk.

So yeah, mercs of TF2 being "taken good care of", except it's literal care (with exception of restraints, probably, since malicious compliance can only go so far and outright letting a captive go would be too much).

HAHAHAHAHAHHA I love this!!! s/o just like me fr!!!

Mercs who's..being taken care of by the enemy s/o.

warnings: this is silly!!! beware of the goof

characters: all mercs

note: this can be seen as platonic or romantic!!😎😎

♡Scout♡

•...what? what the hell?

• "is this some kinda joke or sum?" He says as you pour him a cup of tea, still tied up.

"Are you questioning my tea pouring abilities? I'm pretty good okay! I've been practicing you know?"

"...what?"

"Oh were you not...talking about the tea?"

"fuck no??"

• he's not really complaining? Just?? Angrily confused and pleasantly surprised at the same time???

• he saw how tough you can be on the battlefield so when you just sit him down on a tiny table with an authentic Chinese tea set, with plates of cookies and cake he's...what?

He honestly thinks it's kinda nice how your actually not gonna torture him (again why would he complain) but...goddamn. okay.

♡Pyro♡

• LETS GOOOOOOOO

• "do you want more tea?"

"MmMPH!! mmmph mmhhuhhd mmhhh :)" ( yes!! more sugar please :) )

"got it."

• You both get along great. Trust that he will openly get himself kidnapped if it meant that you'd be his friend.

"Hey wait-they get back in 4 hours...you...wanna paint each others nails?"

"MMMMHHH!?!?!?! mmh mmhhy mmhd." (YESSS?!?! oh my god.)

• painting each others nails (on his gloves because he wants his gloves to be pretty) and just gossiping about each others teams. it's nice. he got a new person to ramble to!!

"Dude oh my god our scout is so ANNOYINGGGG"

"mmhmm mmhhhd mmh mmhds...mmhhs mh mmmhd." (You should see ours...he's a dick.)

♡Soldier♡

• he feels embarrassed and disappointed. (if you read the comics you know why)

• he's just quiet the entire time, angry and confused on why he's not being roughly tortured now. (he's definitely masochistic or something...not surprising!!! he loves the fight)

• "why aren't you drinking your tea?"

"I DONT WANT YOUR SCUMMY TEA! I DO NOT TRUST ANYTHING THAT YOU WANT TO GIVE ME!"

"Suit yourself."

a couple minutes pass by, and he gives in and takes a sip. he does not like tea. you laugh and give him something else, and he ends up just accepting his fate.

• "what colour do you want your nails to be?"

"...RED...blue...and...white..?"

"Like the American flag?"

"YES!"

He calms down after a while and just rambles about his "war" stories to you.

Once he gets back to base completely unharmed with a newfound appreciation for the enemy team's [YOUR CLASS] and...American themed nails? He gets stared at by his co workers.

"WHAT ARE YOU LOOKIN AT? YOU WANT TO START A FIGHT BOY?"

"ACK-FUCK- no no-nothin...geez solly what happened to ya?"

He glares daggers at him through his helmet, and moves on with his day.

♡Demo♡

• oh. okay.

• all his worry just washes away as he sits down with you, getting his nails painted purple.

"Oh, you don't like tea? What do you like?"

"Ya got any scrumpy?"

"Huh, yeah actually. A ton, I'll get you a bottle."

"Thanks love, yer an angel."

• you really think he's gonna complain about it? Nah...free alcohol AND he gets his nails done? bro. he might take you out for dinner to repay your generosity tbh.

• you two just joke around and have some fun, he really likes you now. he will talk to you in the middle of battle and just casually flirt. (If your not interested he'll back off.)

♡Heavy♡

• thinks it's a trick but once he senses there is no ill intentions from you he's caved in.

• thinks it's pretty sweet, such a determined spirit in battle is so sweet and silly within closed doors.

• you two will exchange stories on each others personal lives, he will gladly ramble on about his family if you let him.

• has a newfound interest in you, you two don't fight much now during battles and just pass each other by, you two are like friends!!

♡Engie♡

• OK lmao

• yeah sure, has to do this with pyro daily so it's no different coming from the enemy team.

• "Sorry to bother you sugar, but my restrains are gettin' a little tight. Mind loosening them up a bit?"

"Oh totally, sorry man."

"S' alright, thank you for your hospitality."

• you two just sorta gossip about your teams, he has an insane amount of dirt on each of the mercenaries...

"No way, actually?"

"Yeah. You shoulda' seen the poor guys face when Soldier did that to him. Scout and Demoman were laughin' so hard I thought they were gonna choke!"

• you two probably spend too much time together that you've both forgotten that you were supposed to hold him captive, now his arm is around your shoulder, the two of you, slightly drunk and laughing crying to hilarious stories.

• he respects you as a person, and enjoys your company. Wouldn't mind being kidnapped again if it meant he'd spent it with you.

♡Medic♡

• he's laughing. Okay, sure, fine, better than torture.

• I genuinely don't know what to say other than the fact I think the whole time he's just laughing due to how silly it is.

• comes back and rambles to heavy about how his kidnapping was literally just a free spa day, with white painted nails and the smell of tea radiated from him.

♡Sniper♡

• is this some kind of sick, fucked up joke?

• he'll actually be kinda mad, like all this trouble just for you to drink tea with him? Fuck off

• "Mate, when I get outta these restraints I'm gonna show you why you shouldn't fuck with me."

"...dude what? chillax dawg I'm literally making us tea."

"Bloody hell."

• he gives in...after an hour or so.

• sighing, "just pick a random color, don't make it bright." He says, as your pulling our your nail polish. "You got it boss." You smile, taking out a muddy green color that fits him quite well.

• he's just ranting the entire time honestly it's like a therapy session

♡Spy♡

• finds this amusing and will play along.

• "Your tea set has quite an exquisite color, it's one I have yet seen on any tea sets."

"Yeah! Got this off of a bidding, she's a real beauty."

He snickers, "Indeed she is. May I have another cup?"

"Of course my good man."

• it's like he's role-playing with somebody he finds it cute!!

• he will not say much, but he will listen. He will not let you do his nails, but he will do them for you instead. flirting, trying to woo you.

"You have the prettiest hands, I cannot believe these are the hands that have stolen my lives, time and time again. You are full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Aw man, you charmer. Your just saying that."

"No, I am simply stating the truth. You are quite the interesting character."

• bro got that victim rizz (he got kidnapped so technically)

Hi...I'm back...sortve. um. Yeah. Sup brooo

973 notes · View notes

enkas-illusion · 9 months

Text

Under The Mistletoe

Fandom / Pairing: Attack On Titan / Eren x f!reader

Rating: SFW / Fluff

Genre/Theme: Friends to lovers; non-titan au

Content warning: fluff, teasing, language.

Summary: A series of unfortunate events that lead up to a memorable Christmas Eve at the Jaegers’ house with your close friends.

Author's Note: Hello, here’s a short fluffy friend to lovers one-shot with my fav 2D man. Merry Christmas! Thank you for reading <3

~ Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: Mistletoe by Justin Bieber

“Yo, you home?” you speak into your phone’s speaker without waiting for a greeting from his end.

“Yes…?” Eren answers.

“Busy?”

“Nope.”

“K. Come to my place.”

“Cool,” he cuts the call. You place your phone on the sofa before moving the mess, that would soon transform into your Christmas decorations, out of the way. As you clear the floor of all the stray pieces and tiny ornaments, you place the tiny chair near the tall tree in your living room while waiting for your best friend’s arrival.

You hear the doorbell ring about 15 minutes later and rush to open it. You greet Eren with a wide grin as you move to the side to let him in. He takes off his shoes near the door as he enters the living room.

“So, what do you need me for, madam?” He asks as he takes off his mufflers and scarf, tossing them on the sofa.

“Ouch… do you think so little of me to assume I only call you over when I need something from you?” you fake gasp.

“If you have to ask, you already know the answer dummy,” he pinches your nose before walking to the undecorated tree, deciphering the reason you’d called him over. “For this? You’re far better than I am at this arts and crafts shit.”

“Well, I cannot reach the top even with the tallest chair I own… call it the perks of being the taller friend, I’ll always think of you for such things,” you smile at him before blowing him a dramatic kiss.

“Sure,” he rolls his eyes as you lean down to the tree to start with the bottom half of the decorations. Eren sits next to you, playing with one of the tiny red stockings he picks up, “A friend in need is a friend indeed.”

“A best friend who makes cinnamon rolls cause she knows how much you love them is a friend indeed,” you try to imitate his voice, resulting in a terrible imitation.

His ears perk up at your comment nonetheless, completely ignoring the teasing tone and only focusing on what really matters.

“Did you really?!” he asks, excited like a puppy when he hears someone say ‘treat’.

“Yes… There's still about 10 minutes left though. It’s in the oven,” you say as you point to the tree, “So you should probably hurry up.”

“What a meanie!” he huffs as he fiddles with the ornaments, decorating them on the tree. You laugh as you begin working on the other side at a quicker pace than he does.

A few moments pass by before you hear his voice again, “This tree is so unnecessarily tall… You know, mum said you could just come to our house to celebrate the holidays when I told her you couldn’t go home because of work.”

“That’s so sweet of her… but I still wanted my apartment to look like it’s the holiday season. If I can’t go home this year, the least I can do is recreate some of the warmth and Christmas feels here.”

“Awww, is that why you called me? Cause I’m the star that lights up your whole world?” he says as he holds the golden ornament over his head.

“Not sure about my world but definitely my Christmas tree,” you tease as you check the time. You get up to walk to the kitchen as Eren fixes the chair closer to the tree.

“Only tolerating your bullshit for the rolls by the way…” you hear him complain behind you. You put the oven mitt on as you pull out the batch of fresh cinnamon rolls. You carefully place the pan on the counter, evenly pouring the sugar syrup over the buns.

Your body jerks involuntarily when you hear a loud shriek from the living room. Your heartbeat picks up pace erratically as you run out the kitchen to see what had happened. You find Eren lying on the floor, his right hand holding his left forearm tightly. He writhes in pain when he tries to move his left wrist.

“Ren, what happened?” you panic as you run to his side as you help him stand up. He doesn’t need to explain however – you see the chair with a broken leg lying next to the tree.

“Ugh– Careful,” he hisses as you try to help him straighten his wrist.

“I’m so sorry, I had no idea the chair would break… does it hurt a lot, I’m so so sorry Eren, if I knew I wouldn’t have asked–” your shaky voice breaks, tears welling up in your eyes.

“I’d rather have me fall from a broken chair than you,” he gives you half a smile but it’s so sincere that it makes you want to cry even more.

“Let me get the first-aid kit,” you sniffle but before you can rush to get the kit, Eren rests his right hand on your shoulder to get your attention.

“Get the car keys instead, I think I’m gonna need a little bit stronger than pain relief spray,” he says calmly. On the inside, he’s freaking out, but he doesn’t let it show since he did not want you to panic even further.

Your expressions distort to the point where it looks like you’re in more agony than the man who just fell from a chair. You nod frantically as you go to grab your keys before hurrying out the door to get him to a hospital.

~~~

“Sign it,” he says as he sees you walking into the hospital room where the nurse is fixing a cast around his forearm and wrist, “after all, the artist needs to sign their artwork.”

Eren shows little to no signs of discomfort and you wonder if he’s a psychopath or it’s simply the painkillers working. You open the water bottle before handing it to him as you give another apologetic look – the hundredth one in the last hour since the accident.

“I’m kidding! I’m all good!” He reassures you as he raises the arm up once the nurse is done fixing the cast.

“It’s better to rest for at least 6 weeks if you want to heal properly,” the nurse interjects plainly.

“That long? It’s just a hairline fracture right?” he asks her, confused.

“You still need proper rest Eren!” you scold him as you take his phone, the bag of medicines and water bottle in your hands, not wanting him to carry anything at all.

“I’m fine! This is nothing!” he chuckles, cupping your cheek with his free hand to reassure you. You bring your hand up to his, pulling it away before intertwining your fingers with his.

“Is that all?” you ask the nurse with concern and she nods. “Thank you,” you sigh as you lead Eren out the room.

“The bill?” he asks as you walk out the hallway.

“Paid it already,” you reply.

“I’ll pay you back later, yeah?” he says as you get to the car.

“No, don’t. It’s my fault...” you murmur timidly as you drop his hand to open the door for him.

“Hey… it’s not. I love how much you care about me but please don’t worry so much,” he speaks, holding your hand once again, squeezing it gently.

“But I feel so bad,” you pout as you move your fingers lightly over his cast with your other hand before looking up at him with sadness in your eyes.

He headbutts you playfully, causing you to finally laugh as he says softly, “Give me all the cinnamon rolls and we’ll call it even.”

~~~

Eren wasn’t kidding about the cinnamon rolls – especially now that he had the golden ticket to get you to make as many as he wanted. Usually, you’d only make it occasionally or if he was upset with you after some silly argument and you wanted to suggest a truce temporarily.

So when you arrive at his place in the afternoon, with a container that doesn’t have any cinnamon rolls, 3 days later on Christmas eve, he acts like a bratty child who had been denied his favourite treat.

“Eren! This soup’s better for you. I’m not gonna let you binge on another whole batch of cinnamon rolls!” you speak sternly.

“I don’t recall asking for healthy shit. My mood’s craving cinnamon rolls!” Eren slaps his right hand on the table exaggeratedly.

“I cannot believe how childish you’re being. Where’s your mum? She’ll support me…” you shake your head.

“Carla’s out shopping for presents. I’m afraid you’re going to have to deal with him on your own,” you hear a voice and turn your head to look at Eren’s father entering the house.

The crease on your forehead that had formed while talking to Eren melts away when you greet his father, “Mr. Jaeger, good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon. Is my son bothering you too much?” he asks and you see Eren turn red out of embarrassment.

“Not at all,” you chuckle, “There’s no tantrum of his that I can’t handle.”

“Good. I assume you’re staying for dinner, yes?” Grisha asks politely.

“Yes. So are Mikasa and Armin, they might arrive anytime soon,” you reply, the polite smile fixed on your face.

“Great!” He nods before turning to scold his son, “Eren, don’t trouble the poor girl.”

Eren shakes his head before his father excuses himself to get to his room, leaving the two of you alone again.

“Poor girl? You’re so creepily formal with my parents. They think you’re the model child and I'm the one who corrupts you… even after all these years!” he snorts.

“Well… I am innocent,” you bat your eyelashes at him, “You’re the devil here.”

He rolls his eyes at you before leaning forward and opening his mouth, motioning you to feed him the soup.

“Your right hand’s fine! Drink it yourself.”

“This is the least you can do,” he says with puppy eyes, waving his cast up in front of your face.

“Ugh… fineee,” you take the spoon, blowing on the hot soup gently before feeding it to him.

When Armin and Mikasa arrive about an hour later, Eren goes into heavy, exaggerated details while telling the two about how he got the injury.

“... And then this one cried like a baby… more than I did,” he jokes, pointing your way.

“I was actually crying that my favourite chair of all time broke,” you shoot back dryly.

“Lies, you guys know she’s in denial about how much she loves me, right…? Anyway, the doc said it’ll be another 3 months at least before I’m healed completely.”

“What a drama queen, you’ll be fine in a month’s time!” you narrow your eyes at him.

“You guys bicker like an old married couple,” Armin notes and Mikasa nods in agreement. You’re pretty sure he’s teasing you too but he doesn’t follow it up with a laugh as if it's a serious statement, making you blush awkwardly as you try to avoid Eren’s gaze actively.

Despite Eren constantly teasing you throughout the night, it’s a peaceful celebration nonetheless. When Grisha and Carla retire to their bedroom after wishing your group ‘a jolly Christmas’ shortly after midnight strikes, the four of you gather around in the living room to exchange your secret santa gifts.

When you get a new set of oven mitts, a mini speaker and a perfume you’d been waiting to be restocked since forever with a note that read ‘Couldn’t decide which one was the best option so consider yourself lucky to get a genie like myself’, you jump up to give Eren a big hug while being careful not to bump into his wrist.

“Was it that obvious?’ he laughs.

“We never could’ve figured out the perfume one,” Mikasa giggles. Your eyes meet Eren’s and you feel your heart skip a beat as you eyes stray to his plump lips for a split second – brushing away the very inappropriate thought you just had about your best friend.

You quickly move away as you change the topic and get Mikasa and Armin to open their gifts. It’s obvious they got each other based on the gifts they'd received.

Eren is the last to open his mystery present. You feel nervous, suddenly second-guessing your entire decision. However, it dissolves just as soon as it arrives when you see Eren’s jaw drop at your gift.

“Holy shit! This might as well be the best gift I’ve received in a while,” his eyes gleam at the signed manga copy by his favourite mangaka Hajime Isayama.

“It better be! Took a lot of eff–” you smack your hand over your mouth mid-sentence at spoiling your own identity as his secret santa.

He smiles softly, hugging you as he teases, “Thanks Sherlock, it would’ve been so hard to figure out who it was!”

“Oh wait a min–,” you look around the sofa to find the other package you’d gotten him. You leave his side to get the tiny gift, handing it to him with a playful grin. He raises an eyebrow at you as he unwraps it. He lets out a chuckle when he pulls out the tiny cinnamon roll crochet plushie and bursts out laughing when he reads your note with it – ‘This should last you a long time, stop asking me for another batch already!’

“Never,” he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in tighter as you stumble in place, feeling the vibrations of his torso caused by his laughter. He gives you a quick peck on the top of your ear before letting go, your skin tingling with warmth at the gesture.

“Oh! Before I forget… mum knitted sweaters for all of you guys,” Eren grins proudly. All three of you basically pounce on Eren excitedly when he returns with the sweaters in one hand.

He hands you yours the last and it's your favourite colour. “Told mum to use that specifically,” he confesses, half-whispering so that only you can hear him.

You bite your lip and lower your head to keep yourself from smiling too hard. It's moments like these that have you feeling as if the platonic line in your friendship gets tangled with the romantic one.

Eren Jaeger could bully you to death, within his rights as your best friend, but then he'll randomly do something so sweet that it makes you awfully aware of the growing crush you have on him.

“Thank you,” you smile when you look up and your eyes meet. Eren believes that this smile could be the only thing to melt him if he were a block of ice.

At that moment, he wants nothing more than to squeeze your stupid face and kiss you to his heart's content. He feels a pang in his chest – the intense desire of his crush on you fighting against the rational part of his brain not wanting to spoil your friendship.

When you suggest watching a random Christmas movie, everyone cuddles together on the sofa like birds do on a cold morning. You don't remember most of it since you fall asleep halfway through the first movie itself. Since you fell asleep with your head on Eren's lap, he didn't dare move till the morning – he gladly accepted his fate as your pillow.

Maybe it was something in the air urging him to do something but when he saw the way you peacefully rested on him, he felt an intense need of wanting to protect and cherish you forever. Right there, he made his decision – he was going to confess his feelings to you. His love deserved a fair shot. Besides, he figured he'd simply call it a joke and move on if things didn't go his way.

~~~

Your slumber breaks when you hear soft whispers calling out your name. You feel the shuffling movement of your head being lifted up before being placed back down on a soft surface.

“Hmm?” You speak groggily as you sit up, rubbing your eyes as you sense Eren walking away. You check your phone and it’s just quarter to 5 in the morning. You're about to go back to sleep when you hear his voice again, along with footsteps pacing around from one end of the hallway to the other.

“Come here,” you hear Eren’s voice beckoning you from the passage leading up to his room. You want to go back to sleep but get up despite it when you remember he has a broken wrist and might need your help with something. You quietly tip-top to follow his voice, not wanting to wake up your other two friends who are splayed over the sofa, still deep asleep.

“Hey, what's up?” You speak softly when you look around in the dim light of his room to find him. You turn around when you hear the door close behind you.

“Merry Christmas,” Eren grins, standing just a foot away from you, holding a badly plucked green branch tied with a red ribbon over your heads with his free hand.

“Merry Christmas– what's that?” you mumble as your eyes fix on his hand to observe it closely. It's a Mistletoe – your eyebrows furrow as you look down to his face, expecting an explanation to be written over it.

You feel your heartbeat picking up its pace against your chest. You know what this means yet you can’t believe it entirely. You don't want to make a fool out of yourself by assuming something only for it to be one of his stupid pranks.

You think he's about to headbutt you like he usually does, but he catches you by surprise when he simply rests his forehead against yours.

“You know what this means?” he breathes as he brings his hand down to hold the mistletoe in the space between your bodies.

This is it! He's asking you to kiss him!!!

Still wanting to play it safe, despite his blatant hints, you nod your head as you speak, “This means I give you a bone-crushing hug.”

His eyes narrow at you as he pulls back, “No… what a chicken. Kiss me.”

Your heart flutters, yet you try to play it cool and tease him further, “What a baby.”

You wrap your hand around his neck to pull his face down to your level. He obliges and you place two fingers to his chin to turn his face to the side. You lean in to kiss him on his left cheek.

He lets out a soft chuckle as he imitates you, kissing you on your left cheek in return. You giggle as you give him another peck on his right cheek next, resulting in him repeating you once again.

Then comes the forehead and you have to stand on your toes to do it. He leans down to kiss your forehead, you're pretty sure he was about to joke about it but he doesn’t break the intensity of the moment.

Your heart feels like it's almost about to burst out of your chest when you kiss the tip of his nose, followed by his chin, giggling nervously.

You close your eyes in anticipation, expecting the touch of his lips on the same spots on your face but it never arrives. Instead, your breathing halts abruptly when you feel his lips land on your lips.

You pull back quickly and open your eyes to scan his face for any signs of mischief. Instead you’re met with the softest expression, displaying nothing but a kind adoration for you. He brings your hand up to place it on his cheek, smiling at you, encouraging you to dare.

Without wasting another second, you cup his face with both your hands as you pull him down for a kiss. He smiles into the kiss and you close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his soft lips moving against yours.

Your legs feel giddy and your thoughts feel intoxicated by Eren’s sweet caresses. His free hand is wrapped around your waist firmly and even as you kiss him, you’re cautious about his cast, trying not to accidentally touch his left arm.

You pull away from his touch hastily when you hear the doorknob twist. You both stand next to each other, staring at Armin with a half-perplexed and half-embarrassed look on your face.

“I can’t seem to fi– oh,” he stops when he looks at both of your faces, his half-lidded sleepy eyes suddenly alert. Armin has always been a smart guy – which right about now is making you and Eren look like two deers caught in headlights.

Armin raises his eyebrows, the grin on his face growing wider. “Don’t forget to lock the door,” he mumbles as he simply turns back around before closing the door behind him, leaving you and Eren alone once again.

Eren’s quick to lock the door before turning around to lean against it, signalling you to come closer with the motion of his fingers. You roll your eyes but follow him regardless, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your face on his chest.

Your hand moves to his pec, feeling around for his heartbeat before resting it there completely. You close your eyes and you soak into the warmth of his body as your best friend/lover places soft kisses on the top of your head.

Your heart flutters again, filled with happiness to the brim, making you wish you could trap time in a bottle to seal this moment with you forever.

~fin~

#erensbirdie #aot x reader #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #aot x you #aot smut #aot #eren yeager #eren jaeger

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daybreakerangel · 10 days

Text

This is my first Fanfiction even though I like to write. They are not written in character because I just wanted to write some fluff. This fic is SFW with a hint of spiciness at the end.

Title: Morning Delight 🎸🍎

There was a red hue across the King of Hell’s luxury bedroom. Behind the canopy curtain and under a wine-colored comforter lay the king himself, Lucifer, lying beside his partner, the first man, Adam. Lucifer had been awake for a while, snuggling against Adam, enjoying the warmth that radiated from Adam’s plump physique. Adam’s golden wings were spread out across the California king bed.

Lucifer looked up at Adam, who was still sleeping. His halo was dimmed, and he was breathing softly. Lucifer scooted up a bit to admire Adam’s face. The dark circles around Adam’s eyes were slowly fading, making it easier to see the freckles scattered across his tan face.

An idea popped into Lucifer’s head. He slowly backed away from the sleeping angel, slipped out from under the comforter, and left the bed. His hooved feet hit the Saxony carpet, and after he stood up, he noticed that his rubber duck-themed pajamas had ridden up his legs. He pulled them down and looked back at Adam, who had rolled onto his side, his wings returning to their default position. Lucifer did not want to make any noise, so he revealed his wings and left the bedroom quietly. He reached the door, opened it with ease, and once in the hallway, closed it softly.

Lucifer flew down to the first floor of his castle. Upon entering the massive kitchen, he put his wings away and headed to the cabinets. He grabbed two glass decorative plates, one large and the other small, two transparent glass bowls, and his non-stick pans, placing the bowls on the counter and the pans on the stove. He went to the fridge and grabbed five eggs, then reached into the freezer to retrieve three gourmet sausages. Finally, he headed to the pantry for the ingredients to make homemade pancakes. He wanted to surprise Adam with breakfast in bed but realized he was going to need some help. Lucifer snapped his fingers, and two mini versions of himself popped into existence. The one on the left had pink hair, and the one on the right had blue hair.

"Alright, Pink, you are in charge of making the pancakes, and Blue, you are in charge of making the sausages. Got it?" Lucifer announced. The mini Lucifers saluted and got to work.

Lucifer cracked the eggs and whisked them up to make scrambled eggs. He turned the knob on the stove, and flames rose from the burner. He poured the whisked eggs into the pan, then went back to the fridge and grabbed a bag of shredded white cheese. He opened the bag and took a handful of cheese in his left hand, dropping it into the whisked eggs mixture. As he glanced to his right, he noticed that Pink was cooking the sausages while Blue was still putting the pancake ingredients together.

Lucifer focused on making the scrambled eggs, watching the cheese melt evenly into the mixture. He glanced over at Blue, who had finally finished making the batter and was pulling out the griddle. Pink had finished cooking the sausages, placing two on the larger plate and the last one on the smaller plate. Just then, Lucifer noticed that the eggs were about to burn.

"Oh, shit!" he exclaimed, quickly turning off the flame and moving the pan off the burner.

Blue was pouring the batter into a heart-shaped pancake mold, gently removing the mold to flip the pancake. Every heart-shaped pancake came out beautifully.

"Is there anything you want me to do, bigger me?" Pink asked.

Lucifer was placing the eggs onto the plates. "Uh, make us a fresh batch of coffee. Adam likes his with brown sugar and cream, and I like mine with almond milk, no sugar. Got it?"

Pink saluted again and went to start on his new task.

Back in the bedroom, Adam was waking up. He crawled to the end of the bed and pushed the canopy curtain away. He wanted to watch some TV while waiting for Lucifer to call him down for breakfast. He got up from the bed, stretched his back and wings, and retied the drawstrings on his grey sweatpants, which were about to fall off. Grabbing the remote from the nightstand, he turned on the TV and headed to the bathroom.

Pink had finished the pancakes, making five for Adam and three for Lucifer. Blue had completed brewing the coffee. Lucifer was pleased with how everything had turned out, and he could not stop smiling. He poured strawberry syrup onto his pancakes and blueberry syrup on Adam’s. Then, with a mischievous grin, he added something Adam did not like—ketchup on the scrambled eggs. Lucifer placed the plates on separate bed trays and had the minis carry them while he held onto the coffee mugs.

Adam was lounging in bed, his eyes glued to the TV. The bedroom door opened quickly, catching Adam’s attention. He looked over and saw Pink and Blue, feeling confused until the actual Lucifer walked in.

"I needed extra hands," Lucifer explained. Pink handed Adam his tray, and Lucifer took his own tray from Blue. "Thanks for the help, minis." Lucifer snapped his fingers, and the minis disappeared.

"Breakfast in bed? That is pretty fancy, LuLu," Adam grinned.

"Wanted to try something new," Lucifer replied, kissing Adam on the cheek as he climbed back into bed.

"Heart-shaped pancakes? Oh, that is adorable," Adam giggled, digging into his breakfast. Lucifer blushed at the compliment and started eating his own meal.

Minutes passed, and Adam had a satisfied expression on his face as he sipped the last of his coffee. Lucifer was still eating.

"Ketchup on eggs is weird," Adam joked.

"I know, but it tastes good," Lucifer asserted. After finishing, Lucifer snuggled up against Adam, who began playing with Lucifer’s blonde hair.

"You know..." Adam started, sitting up, which confused Lucifer. "For lunch, I want something really special."

Lucifer sat up, giving Adam a puzzled look. Adam placed his left hand onto Lucifer’s plump ass and squeezed it, making Lucifer’s face turn a deep shade of yellow.

"I was thinking about some apple dumplings. That sounds nice, right?" Adam whispered into Lucifer’s ear. Lucifer just grinned in response.

#my fanfic writing #hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel fanfiction #adamsapple #guitarduck #hazbin lucifer

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look-at-the-soul · 2 years

Text

Make your heart my home

Tommy Shelby x reader

⚠️ Y/N’s background is a bit hard so be aware

🥰 I’m in a romantic spree so your coffee/tea won’t need any extra sugar after this 😉 massive thanks to @lyarr24 for the help to build Y/N’s background your input always allows me to write such a diversity 🌷

Wrote this story for @raincoffeeandfandoms 2.2k followers celebration 🎉 (rain theme) congratulations my dear Flor!!! I’m sure you’ll get many more followers in no time, thank you for your incredible ideas and stories, for filling my days with moments to take my mind off everything 💐🌷🌻🪷

Thank you, @acewritesfics for creating this moodboard for your celebration!!! You inspired me to finish the story 🥰

Stopping to catch your breath, you didn’t know how long you’ve been walking.

Feet sore and swollen from walking miles through dirt, the woods, small rocks, the shoes you found in a trashcan were now almost wore out, you could feel the holes and something poking your skin and that’s when you realized that heaven was pouring down.

It could’ve just started, it could’ve been hours, you didn’t know anymore, your mind went blank the moment you overheard a conversation that changed everything and crushed down your whole world.

You were lucky that day, you also found some clothes someone threw away that looked too big for your malnourished frame, but a few fixes after and you had a whole new outfit.

People rushed under a newspaper or whatever they had to cover their heads, but you wanted to feel the drops falling against your skin.

Taking in your surroundings, you didn’t recognize anything around and it was dark now.

As the rain started bucketing down, you came to the realization that you didn’t have anything or anywhere to go, you’d have to pass the night on the street. And this was happening because of your abrupt escape. You needed to keep going.

Tears mixing with the rain, loneliness was all you got now.

But running away was the only option you had, and this was much better than you used to have, what you’d get if you stayed there, back in Durham.

Defeated, your legs couldn’t support you anymore and you fell on your knees to the ground. A loud sob escaped your lips.

Feeling the cold surface against your face, something warm covered your damp back.

“Miss, are you alright?” You heard a deep voice ask next to you. “Can you hear me?”

You tried to move the hair away from your face, failing in the process.

“Arthur!”

Something strong lifted you up. Soon you entered a warm place, it smelled like tobacco.

“Tom, who’s this?” Someone asked, you shivered and looked down.

“Where the fuck have you been, ey? I called you to help me.” The hands of the man who just talked rearranged the fabric around your back. “Are you alright?”

You flinched and saw him crouching down right in front of you.

“Who are you? Why were you crying?” He asked in a softer tone and when you finally dared to meet his eyes, you found the most fascinating pair staring at you. “Here, drink this.”

“So… are we going or what?” The other man asked, looking from you to the door. He had a mustache.

The man crouching in front of you looked up and raising his eyebrows, he replied; “Fuck off Arthur.”

“T-thank you.” You whispered, holding the glass tightly in both hands, scared of breaking it. Your eyes looking around for the first time, red and gold decorated the room.

“What are you all looking at? Ey?” He raised his voice and you made yourself smaller. “Do you live around?”

You shook your head slightly.

“I’m trying to help you here… are you staying with someone? A mother? Sister? A husband?”

That raised all the alarms in you, you threw the coat and stood up abruptly.

“No! No!” You shouted, panic in your eyes.

He tried to calm you lowering his voice. “‘S fine, no one is going to hurt ya… come with me so you can change your clothes before you catch a cold. Yeah?” He smiled tentatively and wrapped the heavy fabric around your back again.

“Please don’t tell my husband.” You asked on the edge of crying once more.

He guided you out from the bright room and assured you that he wouldn’t do that. On the short walk back, he asked for your name and introduced himself as Tommy.

“I hope you didn’t let Finn get drunk again, I’m not taking care of that-” A woman stated firmly but stopped mid sentence as her eyes found you by the door.

“Pol, I need your help, this is Y/N.” He then removed the cap from his head and took the coat from you. “Y/N, this is my aunt… Polly.”

The woman looked from you to Tommy, then shook her head.

“You’re soaked love, would you like some soup?”

Tommy left your side, your eyes following his moves, when you saw him walking to the door, you moved abruptly to go after him, but in the rush, something from the table fell to the floor breaking into million pieces.

“Sorry!” You expressed feeling terrible, trying to pick up the pieces of the figurine. “Sorry… I’m really sorry.” Your head hanging low, you were terrified of getting a slap, just like your husband always did, you kept mumbling sincere apologies until a pair of strong hands held your wrists.

“Stop, love you’re going to hurt yourself.” He helped you to stand up and pulled a chair close to the fire, then gently he wrapped a blanket around your body. Tommy guided you away from the broken pieces. You felt guilty and useless as Polly and Tommy cleaned up your mess.

“Thank you, for helping me… you’re so kind.”

Polly looked at you and then at Tommy. “So… you’re here by yourself?”

You found yourself nodding getting lost in the thoughts of how far you’ve come. With your eyes fixed in the flames keeping you warm, you couldn’t help but remember.

(Flashback):

Arriving home you felt grateful, finally after your shift in the coal mine you headed to the river to wash the clothes, now you just needed to hang it in the rope so it would dry. You placed the basket on the floor, it wasn’t payday yet and you didn’t have much money left, perhaps you would ask some people if they needed a hand to wash they clothes too. Your feet were sore from the long walk, but you were used by now. As you reached the small house, you heard voices inside, it was your husband and someone else.

“Nah, it’s your fucking turn to pay for the booze.” Said the voice, by the sound of it it looked like they had been drinking a lot.

But you didn’t have money to spend it on alcohol! You barely managed to make it with the food and other necessities…

“I don’t have any on me.” Replied your husband, as you were about to walk in and scold him for drinking again, you heard the other man say something that made your blood run from your body.

“Well… there are other ways to pay me off, where’s that woman of yours?”

You froze right there, mouth dry, your feet wouldn’t move, as your eyes filled with tears.

“She’ll be home in a bit, give me the money and I’ll go get a bucket of beer in the meantime.”

(End of flashback)

“I didn’t know from where, but I got strength enough to walk away in that very moment. I left Durham and I’m never going back.” You whispered still lost in the fire, your fingers wrapped tightly over the blanket.

A clock on the wall announced another hour had passed as two pair of shocked eyes were fixed on you. It was a shock to think that you came walking all the way from the north of the country, all by yourself.

“That bastard offered you in exchange to get a drink?!” Tommy could hardly believe his words as they left his mouth.

You didn’t notice Polly walking away until she came back with a bowl and some clean cloths, but soon you realized she was kneeling before you with tear running down her face. Scandalized, you tried to stop her feeling embarrassed that an elegant woman like her would be cleaning your dirty feet, but one single glance made you keep your mouth shut as she worked in silence.

“You won’t go through any of that here, my little girl you’re safe with us.”

As she finished cleaning your feet you couldn’t stop the tears when in complete silence, the stranger you just meet on a rainy night switched positions with his aunt and crouched down to apply some ointment with a strong smell in your cuts and wounds.

“Why are you so good to me? Without even knowing me.” You asked between sobs.

“Because I can be a lot of bad things, but you don’t deserve something like that.” He blew away the smoke of his cigarette without removing it from his lips.

—

“Looks like finally someone appreciates my cooking.” Polly stated stomping her finished cigarette in the ashtray. She had never seen her nephews eat her food so eagerly.

Tommy crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked at you, he offered you a second plate and you nodded even before he could finish the question. It had been a long time since the last time you ate something as delicious as this, and you didn’t know when you’d be able to do it again.

You winced and jumped at the sound of a loud thunder, it was almost as if it feel outside the house, but in the process you stumbled and if it wasn’t for Tommy, you would’ve fallen, he caught you just in time.

“Take it easy, you’ve been through a lot.” He chuckled while helping you stand, you couldn’t help but show that man all the gratitude you felt, in the only way you knew of course, wrapping your arms around him.

Polly snorted looking at the scene, if she told anyone what happened in that kitchen, no one, not a bloody person in Birmingham would believe that a woman gave Thomas Shelby a hug, and that she lived to tell the story without being cut by a razor blade.

That night she helped you wash in front of the fire in a big bathtub, you were used to a 1/3 size of it, she used a beautiful scent in your hair and gave you a soft body lotion afterwards. But the best part was the fluffy bed and pillow she provided, the room was so spacious and you loved the paper wall.

It was hard to sleep after the events of the last couple of days, your life was turned upside down… the thunderstorm subsided until you were barely able to hear it pattering against the window so you decided to walk over there to open it a little.

The door cracked open an inch and you found Tommy’s eyes scanning around.

“Sorry, I didn’t meant to interrupt you, just wanted to gather my stuff.”

With a small wave you invited him in. “I was just enjoying the rain.” You admitted in a low voice, looking over the window again. “This is the first night I don’t end up soaked, this house doesn’t have holes in the roof.” You admitted casually.

Tommy used to think being in Small Heath was a bad thing, but you coming from Durham, you had less opportunities than he had and somehow this house seemed to be too much to you.

He moved around in silence, trying to not interrupt your peace, but he did notice you were wearing a floral nightgown, probably one of Ada’s.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He gave you one more look before closing the door, sitting there next to the window mesmerized by the soft raindrops, there was something emanating from you that made him want to protect you, something that made him feel a tenderness he didn’t know he could feel towards someone.

“Oh! Good morning love, who are you?” A deep voice called after you.

When you turned around, you found the man with the mustache that was around last night.

“Hello, I’m making breakfast… would you like some?”

“Oh I definitely want som-”

But Arthur was cut by something hitting the back of his head.

“How did you sleep Y/N?” Tommy greeted you taking off the jacket of his suit to cover you, noticing the look his brother was giving you. “This is Arthur, me brother by the way.”

“A train could’ve passed next to me, and I wouldn’t even notice.” You smiled offering him a plate with the breakfast you prepared and he realized of your delicate features for the first time, now with your face clean from the coal that was covering you the previous day.

“Don’t even try love, he never eats.” Arthur adviced with a wink stealing the plate.

But Tommy had other ideas so he took the plate back and gave your arm a small squeeze after taking his place at the table.

“For the Black Madonna… are you feeling well?” Polly asked walking in, she had to look twice at her nephew. Ever since Grace left, he was turned into some kind of grumpy hermit. It had been a long time since she saw him smiling.

“This is the best breakfast I’ve had in a long time.” Tommy admitted taking another bite, his brother mirrored his actions.

You looked with expectations at Polly, you wanted to show them your gratitude.

“I already had breakfast, but I’ve to taste it.” She took it, not understanding why her nephews were so bloody quiet, not fighting while eating for the first time.

You rushed then to pour her some tea and then placed the milk and sugar next to her cup. Tommy was about to stand up to get the second round of food, but soon you instructed him you’d serve it for him.

“This is delicious.” Polly noted.

“Why aren’t any of you at the betting shop yet?” A man appeared in the kitchen with a toothpick and a peak cap.

“And this is John, my other nephew, John, this is Y/N.”

John gave you a side look, everyone was talking about the mysterious woman his brother picked up from the ground the previous night.

Arthur left in silence after thanking Y/N for the food.

“John I need you to take the rest of your things from your room.” Tommy instructed not even looking at his brother.

“Why?”

“Because Y/N will be staying with us and she needs a place to sleep, your room is free now, just take the rest of your shit.” He explained calmly taking a cigarette from his case, Y/N took the matches to light it.

John watched the interaction raising his eyebrows but decided to say nothing about it.

Without them asking, you started taking the dishes and cleaning the table.

“I was thinking Y/N could come with me to the city.”

You looked at Tommy, waiting for his instructions.

That morning he showed you another glimpse of his generosity by giving his aunt an obscene amount of money and asking her to buy anything you might need. He also instructed that once the wounds in your feet were healed you would be working for them. The previous night, while you were sleeping on his bed they talked about it, you’ve been through enough shit to kick you out and with the recent growth of the business they could use one more pair of hands around, he assured you that you wouldn’t have to go back to your life in Durham, you would be able to start anew.

You were barely able to hold your emotions and you wrapped your arms around his torso like the previous day, feeling extremely grateful for crossing paths with the Shelby family.

Polly stared at the scene before her eyes, it was a total surprise and shock to see her nephew allowing someone who wasn’t even close to the family give him a hug, twice. But she couldn’t blame you though, you didn’t have the slightest idea that you were hugging the most dangerous man in Birmingham.

—-

Over the curse of the following weeks, you started to work for them, helping around in any way you could, burning old files, checking the inventory for the diaries, you learned how to use the phone to take notes, anything they needed.

More than once you bursted into his office after a small knock to bring him tea or the post mail that arrived for him, with a smile he would confess that he didn’t hear it and his brothers would make funny sounds or teased him after you closed the door.

Day by day, you earned his trust, learned fast, he was surprised by your positivity and constantly made him smile, or he would chuckle at something silly you said. But you also learned more about his character, you were able to read his gaze and his mannerisms and the tone of his voice when he didn’t like something, but to you he was nothing but tender and kind. For you, it seemed as if he was in a pedestal, for everything he did for you, everything he gave you.

Tommy explained you patiently the paperwork he needed you to organize and the way he wanted it to be done, soon you didn’t need any more instructions. Thanks to him you learned that despite everything, despite coming from a hard environment, there were still good people around. And it was almost as if all of the terrible things you went through were replaced with nothing but a bunch of blessings.

That’s why it wasn’t a surprise to learn that Tommy bought his aunt a house in a beautiful area as he described you the place, letting you know that you were invited to her opening party.

The soft knock on the door forced you to move your eyes from the windows, you had been lost in thoughts for a while looking at the drops of water sliding down the window.

Tommy looked first at the small candle and book over the table, you had been devouring every single book you found around, then, slowly his gaze stopped at your figure, hugged by a dress he didn’t remember seeing before but it surely suit you well, earlier he heard Ada arrived to glam you up, the image of the woman covered in coal seemed so far away now. You were even wearing lipstick he noticed.

“Woah… Y/N.” He was lost for words, which he tried to hide by clearing his throat.

You blushed, feeling like a completely different person and tried to walk towards te bed to grab the purse Ada insisted you should wear too, but walking in heels was harder than you thought and you stumbled a little, Tommy’s hands were on your waist in seconds, followed by a soft chuckle. His eyes sparkled.

“What is it?” You asked breaking away from his embrace, walking towards the window, trying to forget about the way his eyes were looking at you.

“You’re cute.”

“You think I’m cute?” Could you take that as a compliment? Or was it just a safe way to brush you away?

But his arms wrapping around you from behind, revealed otherwise.

Surprised, you turned around to face Tommy, somewhere down the road your admiration and gratitude grew into something deeper, but he was way over your league, unreachable. Or so you thought.

His hands cupped your cheeks, thumbs stroking gently. “I think you’re beautiful.”

His lips met yours softly, Tommy kissed you expressing his feelings through his actions.

Pulling apart just a little, you whispered: “I want to make your heart my home.”

****

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @gypsy-girl-08 @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @ange-thoughts @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @strayrockette @forbidden-forest-witch @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @zablife @peakyscillian @moral-terpitude @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @cilliansangel @rangerelik @sydneyyyya (can’t tag) @adaydreamaway08 @dandelionprints

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