#cutting yourself on corners and edges to smoothe out the parts that others dont like

[treeprince]

nothing like waking up in the middle of the night and wondering if the ppl who follow me w clear disdain in their bios for some of the things i like consider me their dirty little secret

[jimlingss]

O SHOOT REQUESTS !!! ill take my chances and ask for a zombie apocalypse or pirate au ft. hoseok 👀 i couldnt choose between the two aus and im hoseok biased but i can honestly see any member so do as who u see fit. i will not let my pairing/au choice limit the authors talent 😤 and i dont doubt anything from you will satisfy. and pshhh,, where are my manners. please and thank u! love u 💛

↳ Crocodile Tears

1.8k || 98% Fluff, 2% Angst || Jung Hoseok || Pirate!AU

“Look what I nabbed, Cap’n.”

Gunner Taehyung’s grinning with all teeth, a golden chain wrapped around his fingers that’s so shiny it’s blinding with the sunlight. Hoseok’s intrigued and flips the locket in his hand. It’s heavy with a wild rose engraved on the front and once he pops it open, there’s a faded painted portrait of a young woman inside.

“It’s a booty, eh? Caught if off milady right over ‘ere.”

Hoseok hums and narrows his eyes on the wrench tied in rope sitting amongst the captives. Your face is dirtied, hair drawn in a bun at your crown but with many strands fallen around your face. Your gown rat’s coloured, dull gray. You are entirely unremarkable. Like any other peasant.

But it’s not often captives have something of value on them.

“Bring her to my cabin.”

“Aye, aye.”

The ship sets sail again. Taehyung keeps the captives quiet with the threat of throwing them overboard while the cabin boy Jungkook swabs the poop deck. Helmsman Seokjin mans the helm with navigator Namjoon by his side. The ship’s heading to dock at Port Galigeo to get a pretty penny for all the loot and treasures they’ve gotten after four months’ voyage.

Once steep waters are reached and everything’s been taken care of, Hoseok resumes to his cabin. There, he finds you, sitting in the corner on the floorboards with tears in your eyes. You gasp as he enters and shuts the door.

“Please! Spare me!” you beg sorrowfully. “Let me go!”

“Why should I?” Hoseok tosses his hat onto his table and his coat to his rickety chair. You look so frightful, even when he’s still in his drawers and shirt, held together by the red sash.

He fiddles with the many golden rings across his fingers, a habit since he began his adventures, and he comes over to you. Hoseok’s boots are heavy against the floorboards, and he crouches down to meet your trembling eyes.

“I-I am just a peasant,” you sob. “I have nothing to give to you! My father is merely a farmer.”

“Oh? Then what be this here?” Hoseok dangles the priceless locket in front of you as the corner of his lip curls. It catches the light from the tiny window of the cabin and the gold gleams against your eyes, practically sparkling like a jewel. 

Your eyes flicker from it to him, hiccuping and frame quivering like a damn leaf. “It’s my grandmother’s. She left it for me before she passed.”

Hoseok hums a low note. “An’ if this be your grandmother’s, how she pay for such a treasure? Unless she been a thief.”

Your downcast head shakes. “I don’t know, I don’t know.”

He pops the locket open before taking a good look at it. “This here be a portrait of you, isn’t it? You look different. Lavish. Like a noble’s daughter.”

“T-That isn’t me.”

“Then who?”

“I don’t know.” 

There’s something rather pretty in the way tears drip down your cheeks, so soft and gentle like jewels of their own right. But Hoseok has seen many women, children and men cry. It’s nothing astonishing.

Hoseok smirks, a rush of air leaving his nose. “I’ve been cap’n of this ship for nearly a decade, dearest. I’ve held treasures you could only dream of, been in battles that nearly lost my leg, sailed ‘cross the seven seas with me mates. I know when a wrench lies.”

His eyes are narrowed in on yours. And Hoseok comes closer, hand lifting to grab a hold of your chin. But before he can, before he can blink or breathe — suddenly, you brandish a piece of glass against his exposed neck. 

The ropes around you clatter to the ground. Hoseok feels the sharp edge of the glass digging into his skin, a moment away from nicking him and drawing blood. But more notably, your eyes are aflame. Your expression is dark and you’re scowling at him. 

Gone is the fragile little girl weeping for mercy.

“Don’t come closer,” you warn in a low voice without a single tremble.

He leans back, but his gaze stays on yours. “You reckon you could kill me?”

“I wouldn’t hesitate.”

Hoseok’s mouth curls, grin stretching into his cheek. His interest is piqued. He knew there was more to you beneath the surface, and he’s happy you haven’t disappointed.

His hand latches onto your wrist to force your hand away. It's a battle of strength. One that he ultimately wins as the piece of glass goes clattering on the ground out of your reach. He sees it’s part of a broken bottle. But Hoseok’s much too put off guard and when your leg kicks out at him, he’s smacked square in the chin.

He grips it as he lands on his ass, sharply exhaling. But then he bursts into chuckles.

“You got some mean spirit in you, sweetheart.”

Unfortunately for you, Hoseok has far too much experience in combat and capture. Even if you try to kick, strike and even bite him, it’s not too difficult to get you tied into ropes again. Except this time, he makes sure to use his special knots and get you so wound up, no sharp edge could free you. 

“Let me go, bastard!”

“Settle down. You’re only gettin’ yourself riled.” Hoseok crouches in front of you again and comes to wipe away the stray tear on your cheek with the pad of his thumb. You angrily scowl at him, chest rising and falling. Crying won’t get you far now, not when he knows they’re just crocodile tears. “Don’t get yourself worried about someone hurtin’ you. Everyone on this ship swears by our code, me included.”

You scoff. “As if I’d trust a pirate.”

Hoseok smirks. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done so already. It isn’t pleasin’ for me to force a girl like yourself either. Not when I have plenty o’ gold to play with a wrench at the dock. Now I suggest you behave or my Quartermaster’ll throw you overboard.”

“Then do it!” you shout at him with your entire body, only to flop over to the floorboards.

He grips the knob of the door and looks over his shoulder. “No. You’re too much of a treasure, sweetheart.”

The sun is falling over the horizon when Namjoon approaches. “Everything go well with the girl?”

Hoseok hums and turns with a glint in his eye. “Tell all hands to keep her separate.”

Port Galigeo is reached within two days time. The waters are calm without storms and the stars are clear at night. The sailing is smooth and so the docks are reached faster than ever before.

The men aboard are eager to sell the loot, to spend a few days ashore, spend nights at the brothel and replenish the rum. As follows, their steps are quick and they move the crates of jewels and tools to the harbour. Seokjin also takes care of the captives, leading them in a straight line off the gangplank to be sold.

“Cap’n! What ‘bout the beauty ‘ere.” Taehyung points to you.

Hoseok meets your eyes and you’re seething, glaring back at him. The corner of his mouth curls in amusement.

“Leave her. Tell the lad to watch over her till we return.” He points to Jungkook and Taehyung nods with an ‘aye, aye’. 

Most of his crewmen take care of business, getting as much gold for the loot as possible. But Hoseok fiddles with your pendant in hand and heads to a jeweler. Said jeweler is an old man who quivers upon seeing him, Namjoon and Seokjin in his shop. He hides behind his table and cries, “Please! Spare me! Take what you must!”

Hoseok sighs. He doesn’t know why everyone thinks so badly of him. Maybe because he’s a pirate and he and his crew have pillaged countless. That’s fair, he supposes.

“Stop yer quivering,” Seokjin spews out, leaning against his table. “We need you to look at somethin’. Hurry before I steal your silver!”

Hoseok lifts your golden locket, letting it dangle from his hand. 

The old man eventually slinks out when he realizes they won’t do anything, and he takes out his magnifying glass. He motions for him to bring it forward and Hoseok does. The old man hums, studying the locket before flipping it over in his hand. His thumb brushes against the wild rose engraving.

“Where did you get this from?” he asks.

“Don’t matter,” Namjoon says curtly. 

Hoseok studies the man’s face and leans closer. “What is it?”

“It is a very valuable locket. I happen to recognize this symbol as well. It is the emblem of the Crochetta Kingdom.” He pops the locket open to the portrait of the young woman and looks up at Hoseok, clearing his throat. “I believe this locket belongs to the youngest princess of that kingdom. The runaway.”

Hoseok’s brow cocks.

The three of them leave in a hurry. 

Seokjin’s eyes are glazed as his mouth starts to spew how Lady Luck is truly on their side, how they’ll be able to get their hands on a high ransom or sell you for countless riches. Namjoon is perplexed at how a princess like you managed to get here when Crochetta was countries away.

But Hoseok remains quiet. He doesn’t plan to trade you. He doesn’t ask questions.

He is entirely and wholly intrigued. Like never before.

“Blimey, the ship!” There’s a shout at the docks and Hoseok is torn from his thoughts. Taehyung has his hands in the air, cursing aloud. And Hoseok’s eyes trail from him to his ship that’s off the dock and disappearing over the horizon. “It’s sailing away!”

Seokjin is aghast. “How?!”

“Who’s still on?!” Hoseok shouts, looking around the dock to all his shocked men and their mouths drawn open big enough to catch flies.

“That girl,” Namjoon says, looking at the captain.

Hoseok tied you tightly, he made sure of it. Unless you freed yourself again. But it’s not possible that you lifted the anchor. 

No. You must’ve cut the rope.

“Where’s Jungkook?”

At the same time, there’s a high-pitched shriek in the distance. All of the men are held to their spots on the docks as they watch a tiny figure in the horizon get pushed off the ship’s deck and then plopped into the waters. 

There’s a loud splash.

You stole the ship.

Hoseok is quiet when his men turn to him. They don’t dare utter a single word, far too afraid their captain is boiling with anger. But what frightens them far more is when Hoseok suddenly bursts out into chortling laughter.

He laughs and grins as he watches his ship sail into the distance.

You were truly a treasure hard to find. He knew it when he saw you.

And now, he’ll just have to catch you again.

[deliciously-yeeted]

I was in desperate need of some beel fluff, so i wrote some. As one does. Uh, ive never done this,(posting fanfic, i normally jus write small things for myself tbh😅) before so please have mercy lol

I hope ya like it though, it put a smile on my face so im hoping it does the same for you♡

____________________________

You started filling the hem of your shirt with snacks, as many as you could fit in the scrunched up fabric that is, a tired but playful grin on your lips, as you thought over what you planned to do, mentally prepping yourself.

Normally, you're not so bold about seeking out comfort and such, feeling shy about showing vulnerability...but today, ugh, today had you particularly worn down. You needed something, affection preferably. You'd settle for a warm bath and some melatonin if you had to. Though, you really didnt want too.

You were tired of self soothing all the time. And Asmos care packages could only help so much. But you knew how to make it all magically better. There was only one option in times like these .

You worked quickly, excitement bouncing around in your gut, making your hands a little shaky.

Having grabbed all you could you carry, you practically dashed from the kitchen. Your mind set on finding a certain big demon. Last you heard, he was headed to his room for a bit. You hoped he was still there.

When you finally reached his bedroom door, you found yourself in a tad bit of a pickle. Your eyebrows furrowed, the realization that you wouldn't be able to open the door making you frown at the closed door briefly. You cursed yourself slightly, for not thinking that far ahead. You forgot in all your excitement.

Briefly you considered trying to use you feet before dropping the idea. Guess you've got no choice.

Dang it! You felt kinda bummed that you'd be losing the element of surprise, but the grin soon returned, thinking about seeing Beel always you happy, regardless of the circumstances.

"Beeeeellllllllllll!" You called out, letting a bit of a whine into your voice, hey, who knows? Maybe it'd get him in front of you faster?? He tended to be on the slower side of answering his door, sometimes he simply didnt hear it. Especially if he was working out or watching tv.

Apparently, whining his name did not speed him up:(

You were about to call out again, worried he hadn't heard you, when the door clicked open. The mere sound making you feel slightly giddy. Your eyes snapping up to meet his briefly. You soaked in as many details of him as you could, without just straight ogling him, before flicking your eyes back up to meet his.

"Y/n?" He seemed pleasantly surprised, dressed in a black tank top and grey sweats (you were happy to see him wearing them, because while he looked like a whole ass meal in them, it also meant he had no plans of leaving the house tonight).

His eyes were quick to find the odd lumps wrapped up in your shirt, as well as the bit of tummy peaking out. The position you held your shirt in had caused the bottom of your stomach to show, something you had worried about on the way here, anxious about a different brother catching a glimpse of you. You could feel his stare burn against your skin, he was about to say something, but then his nose twitched, and his eyes fixed on your bundle of snacks instead.

-

Not that you minded his staring your stomach, not with Beel.

The others...maybe.

Your tummy was one of his favorite parts about you, he's hands finding their way under your shirt to touch and squeeze the soft flesh more often than not. Always gentle and non intrusive. I think he'd full on cry if he accidentally upset you somehow tbh.

Boy had absolutely no shame about it, once he learned you didnt mind much.

Especially when you seemed to be a bit shy about showing your stomach, with the others, or just in general. He made sure to let you know how much he loved your squish. Be it at RAD or just casually in the house.

The only person who ever raised a fuss over it was Mammon, although, he tended to fuss over everything you did anyways;; His protests did absolutely nothing to deter you or Beel, much to his dismay.

Sometimes, if Beel was hungry and needed a distraction or a quick 'pick me up', he'd scoop you up and just shove his face into your tummy. (Much like what I do with my cat when I'm bored and/or sad) Then he'd just hold you there until he absolutely had to let you down.

Relishing in the feel of your softness and you heart racing under your skin, fluttering so delicately under his lips, pressing his face against you was an instant mood lifter for him.

You loved it, a surprised but delighted laugh always ripping from your chest, almost subconsciously. You couldn't hide your happiness in his affections, not that you would want to (thats a lie, you cant help but be embarrassed at the end of the day by the intensive joy you felt whenever you looked at him). Which only seemed to motivate him even more, and soon each time he scooped you up, he'd kiss all over your tummy, making you giggle because it tickled, before hugging you close with a small sigh.

-

"I brought snacks, and some cuddles. So uhm, can I nap on you for a bit? 'M tired. Unless your busy or something..." you beam up at him, starting to hesitate toward the end, suddenly a little unsure.

"Pretty please?? I wont bug ya, I promise." You plead, pulling your best puppy dog eyes, shifting from one foot to the other nervously. His eyes widened as his brain processed what you said, and the cute sight in front of him. If he was being honest, it made his brain stop for a split second.

He chuckled at you and lifted you up by the back of your knees, holding you carefully to his chest, mindful of your full shirt. A small startled squeak coming from you as he did so, a sound he never got tired of hearing.

You glanced in the room as he closed to door, he had papers sprawled over the small coffee table in the middle of the room, and a few (you spotted more in the trash bin in the corner) empty food wrappers around his work space. He plopped down in front of the table again, taking only a few steps to reach it. You were kind of jealous, your short legs never being a fair match against his. Luckily he enjoyed carrying you, which solved that issue right quick.

"You can keep me company while I finish my homework." He says, shifting you into his lap and keeping a loose hold on your lower stomach, fingers splaying out to get a small feel of your exposed skin. Glancing around, you dont see belphies mop of hair in his bed, he was probably sleeping in the attic or the observatory, you quietly hum to yourself, abit happy to have Beel all to yourself for the moment. Shifting forward, Beels hands refusing to let you go and setting on your waist, you hold your shirt above the edge of the table, and let the snacks spill from your shirt before smoothing the garment back down, missing Beels frown as he looses sight of your tummy. Quickly moving to organize the snacks a bit, so that they were within reach and not scattered all over his papers and in the way.

"Thank you, your the bestest!!" You say, the dull ache in your arms more than worth the effort in your opinion.

You tilted your head back so you can look up at him. Making eye contact with him made your brain kinda just...mush. Your hands slowly squeezing his on your waist, lifting them so you move a bit.

You tore you gaze from his, before turning around and wrapping your arms around his nack and your legs around his torso,(like a koala in his opinion).

Scooting as close as you could get away with, (your not as stealthy as you give yourself credit for, he knows, he just too nice to tease you for it, and he doesn't want you to stop), so you could snuggle up to him and be comfy at the same time. Which wasn't all that hard to do with him, being the teddy bear he is.

Your eyes glazed over slightly, and you were distracted as you mind pulled your attention away.

Ah, you were in pure bliss, you could die happy like this~

You had grabbed plenty of snacks, being sure to vary in your choices, knowing Beel would like to have options, and hoping to be able to buy some extra time with him and a cute Beel smile as a reward for your effort. Tho, youd do it anyways.

Not that you'd ever admit to that. Nuh uh, no way. Unless he asked nicely, you'd give in embarrassingly fast if he ever did, the realization making your face heat up.

But...

Embarrassment be damned, youd never tell Beel 'No'.

He looks down at you, face going all blushy and soft at your slightly dazed and flushed expression. Your thoughts getting the best of you for a moment. Shaking your head slightly and letting out a resigned sigh.

"Of course you can," you snap out of it when he speaks up, looking up at him, quick to give him your full attention. "I love when you cuddle up with me, it helps me focus a bit. You didn't have to bribe me, though, as long as its you, my cuddles come free-" wrapping his arms around your shoulders, giving you a snug hug, he moves to continue. "Not that I'm complaining-" you cut him off, feeling slightly guilty about it. You were already flustered, and his sweet words weren't helping your predicament one bit. That was until your eyes actually focus on his face, oh sweet hell, hes so precious!!! Your heart thumps nearly painfully for a moment, nerves biting into your thoughts.

Your face was definitely beat red now, you could feel it at the tips of your ears even. Yet you refused to move, your eyes locked on his. A rare occurrence, one you could tell he was basking in, his eyes were glued to your face, studying it. His flush deepening slightly.

Squishing his cheeks and "shushing" him gently. Your basically cooing at him, to tired suddenly to care much about how your words or actions came off. The nervousness slipping away from your voice and movements. "Its not a bribe hun, I just felt like seeing you smile before I fell asleep on you. Heh, your smile is my goodluck charm for good dreams, ya know?" You tiredly rub his cheek with your thumb, eyes lit up happily and content. Giving him a small breathless laugh at the end.

He really did calm you down, your mind slowing down as the excitement started to fade, a fact you became overly aware of quite suddenly, your eyes feeling quite heavy now that you felt safe.

You yawned, your weariness catching up to you.

Beels quick to notice, taking note of the bags under your eyes. Dont worry, he'll make sure you get some good sleep, no bad dreams were gonna plague you on his watch. He glances over at the snacks you brought, unbelievably happy. Seeing you so cutely curled up to him, the fact that you brought him as much food as you could carry(a sight he nearly died from when he saw it) and your sweet sweet words, it definitely warmed his heart to say in the least.

He loved that you actually came to find him, just so you could cuddle. His adoration for you is bottomless, just like his hunger.

So, Beel wraps you inna big bear hug, pulling you closer and peppering the top of your head and face with kisses. He gives you a big grin, his eyes sparkling happily. "Nap, I'll wake you up when I'm done and we can hangout till dinner."

You tiredly nod, relaxing against him.

Grabbing a baggy of chips, he smooches your forehead, before tucking your face under his chin so he could munch, and see his work(not like that was much of an issue, beels a big boy after all👀), without completely covering the top of your head in crumbs (you'd told him you didn't mind, especially since he always ruffled your hair to get then out, and you loved that...but he still feels bad about it and tries to avoid it to some extent) and being able to rest his chin on top your head was just the cherry on top for him.

💗Happy beel mode activated💗

Sighing happily, you close your eyes. Beels cuddles making all your stress melt away, just like they always did. Slowly, you start to drift off, listening to the soft scratch of his pen as he starts to work and his deep breathing, letting it lull you into sleep.

I dont know why my brain wanted me to got all out on this. I literally jus couldn't stop tweaking with it. Imma post if before i decide to change it. Imma just conveniently forget i wrote this now, maybe ill like it more after a week or two... :/ also if theres any spelling or grammar issues plz tell me, its like 2am rn so im sure i missed something

[sbtlns]

Assistance

Warnings: none, just fluff

A/N: This is set around season four, when the angels are first introduced and are trying to get Sam and Dean to “pLaY tHeiR PaRtS”

hope yall like it! (◕ᴗ◕✿)

It had been a long day and an even longer week between trying to work a case and dealing with all this new angel bullshit. Up until three weeks ago, you had no idea angels even existed, and now they seemed to be everywhere. Not only that, but they were not the kind, loving, helpful beings you had learned about in school. No, these angels were dicks. Well, maybe not all of them. There was Castiel, he was the one who pulled your brother out of Hell and you were eternally grateful for it. And those eyes...

Anyway. You were the one who suggested working a case, in an attempt to distract yourself and your brothers from the overwhelming sense of impending doom the apocalypse was causing. The case was relatively easy, with only a few hangups, and now the three of you were drinking in your motel room, trying to just relax for a few hours. With a grunt Dean stood up and clapped Sam on the shoulder. 

“Alright, me and Sammy are gonna get some shut eye. Need anything before we leave?” your older brother asked you over his shoulder as the two of them walked towards the door. “I’m good thanks,” you said, smiling softly at him. You felt bad for them, all this talk about being the perfect vessels for Michael and Lucifer was freaking them out, whether they’d let on to it or not. Dean nodded and muttered a “good night” in response and walked out the door, Sam threw you a quick smile over his shoulder before closing the door behind them. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and eased yourself off the bed. You grabbed a change of pjs before shuffling over to the bathroom, careful not to put too much weight on your ankle. The vengeful spirit the three of you had been hunting caught you off guard and threw you up against the wall before abruptly letting you down, causing you to land on your ankle wrong. 

After getting changed, you made yourself a cup of tea, grabbed the book you were currently reading, and made your way over to the armchair. You knew sleep wouldn’t come easy with all the stress you were under, but reading helped you relax enough to become drowsy. You were too caught up in your book to notice the sound of wings flapping coming from behind you. Castiel stood awkwardly behind you for a few moments, unsure of how to get your attention and you continued reading, unaware of the celestial being behind you. You were about to flip the page when you heard a gruff voice say, “Um, pardon me.”

You yelped as you lept up from your chair to face the intruder. His eyes widened as he put his hands up in defense. “I apologize, it was not my intention to startle you,” he said quickly. You sighed in relief that it was just Castiel and took a deep breath to try and slow your elevated heart rate. “S’alright,” you choked out. You sighed again as you sunk back into your chair and he awkwardly shuffled around the chair to face you. “So, uh, what did you need?” you asked the angel before you. He shifted his weight uncomfortably and stared at the ground. He took a deep breath before responding, “Zachariah worries that I have become too..friendly.. with your brothers and has demoted me from their charge,” he began, a hint of shame in his voice. “Instead, I am to report to you and assist you in any way you require.”

You stared at him dumfounded. Really? you thought, an angel taking orders from me? He looked up at you with furrowed brows and tilted his head. “No, I would not be taking orders from you. Simply assisting where you deem necessary,” he stated with an edge to his voice. Your eyes widened in embarrassment and a blush crept up your cheeks. Before you could respond, his burning gaze left your eyes and trailed down to your feet. “You are injured,” he muttered. You cleared your throat before answering, “it’s nothing,” quietly. He slowly knelt in front of you, looking deeply into your eyes. “Allow me,” he said lowly, pressing his palm to your ankle. You winced at the contact before feeling a warm rush of energy relieving the pain. As soon as the warmth was there, it was gone, and he stood up smoothing the front of his trenchcoat. 

You cautiously rolled your ankle, surprised at the lack of pain. You looked up at him with furrowed brows. “How..” you asked in disbelief. “I healed you,” he stated simply. You were still at a loss for words when he broke the silence. “Is there anything else I can assist you with?” he asked, a hint of hopefulness in his eyes. You racked your brain for something, anything he could do. “I..uh..I can’t think of anything,” you responded. “Very well then,” he said, looking slightly disappointed. “I will return to Zachariah,” he said as if he was dreading it. You felt a pang in your heart, you knew that Castiel only wanted to do the right thing, and unfortunately, not a lot of angels followed that mentality. You could tell that Castiel didn’t agree with Zachariah’s methods and was beginning to resent him for how he was treating your brothers. 

“Wait,” you blurted out as he turned to leave. He turned back to you, tilting his head. “Zachariah ordered you to assist me with whatever I need, right?” you asked, gaining a huff of annoyance from the angel. “More or less,” he muttered. “And he can’t bother you if you’re...assisting me, right?” you asked. His eyes squinted, trying to understand where you were going with this. “Right,” he confirmed. You smiled. “Well, Castiel, I have a hard time falling asleep at night,” you started. “I can fix that,” he said, lifting two fingers to your forehead. You quickly dodged them before grabbing his hand and lowering it back to his side. He looked at you questioningly and you smiled reassuringly back at him before getting up from your chair and pushing it to the edge of the motel bed. You climbed into bed and gestured for him to sit in the chair. He furrowed his brows, saying, “Y/N, I don’t-” “Castiel,” you cut him off, exasperated that he wasn’t getting it. You looked at the chair and then at him expectantly, waiting for him to sit before continuing.

He looked at the chair warily before approaching it and sitting down hesitantly. He looked back up at you, eyes unsure and waiting for you to speak. You smiled and slipped under the covers. “Tell me stories about Heaven,” you requested. He was quiet for a moment. “Y/N, I dont see how this would assist you,” Castiel said hesitantly, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. You sighed and ran a hand over your face before explaining, “Humans tell stories to get other humans to fall asleep. I can’t sleep at night. Boom. Assisting. You don’t like taking orders from Zachariah. He can’t bother you if you’re assisting me. Get it?” you said with a hint of annoyance in your voice. Understanding washed over his features as they softened, the corners of his mouth twitching upward slightly. “I see,” he said, leaning back in his chair. He paused before continuing, “Where would you like me to begin?” he asked. You smiled, shifting to face him and getting in a more comfortable position to fall asleep. “The beginning,” you responded, eliciting a soft smile from the angel. 

Castiel told you stories of Heaven, painting vivid pictures in your mind of everything he was telling you. He told you everything from the bloody battles he fought, to perfectly describing Heaven’s lush gardens. He realized you had fallen asleep as a soft snore cut off his sentence. He smiled to himself before quietly getting up, careful not to wake you. He gave one more glance at the peaceful figure behind him before sighing to himself and returning to Zachariah. 

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

That Be Some Good Buttercream

Summary- Steve and Bucky get your help in replicating a howling commando days battle using Christmas baking fun. But... Does anything ever quite work out the way it should? Set in the same characters I used in Night In, Looking Pretty Fly and Popping Pez and Mismatched Socks. Written for @official-and-unstable-satan​ 300 Follower Celebration Challenge. She still has many prompts, check it out. Prompts in italiacs. No warnings, all fluffy. 

Word Count- 1.6k

A/N- so proud of your accomplishments babes, you are an amazing writer and I love getting lost in your stories and listening to your ideas. I know your just gonna keep going up from here. Love you always babygirl 💚😈💚😈💚😈💚

“Bucky, they came around from the south end” 

“No they did not. I remember Steve, I was there.”

“Yea, and so was I” 

You and Sam had been listening to the two super soldiers carry on at the oversized table in the compounds kitchen dining area for a good hour before you readjusted the volume on the tv once more. Sam, half laying over half the couch remained scrolling on his phone, remarking. 

“Aint gonna do you no good, they just get louder.”

You sigh and hit the off button, he was right. Might as well go see what these two were up to anyways. Pushing yourself off the couch, Sam promptly stretched his legs out onto where you were sitting, making himself comfterable. “See you on the other side Kid!” He joked, settling into watching youtube. 

Wandering in, you saw the two men bent over  large map, Steve with pencil in hand drawing arrows to discern where they started from, stretching it across what looked like a military base. Bucky shook his head. 

“No no no, Punk, I wasnt up there, I was down here” 

“Bucky, I had you up on the highest point, it just looks weird on paper.” 

“You know what, this is pointless.” You could see Bucky getting aggitated with there project, pushing himself away from the table. “We need like... a 3D model to get this right.” 

Steve to straightened up, his arms folding as he looked down at the heavily marked paper. “Well... Tony does have some...” You interrupt in this time, moving over to the table and taking a peek at what they were doing. 

“You know, I have an idea of how to make you two a 3D model.” Both the men quirked brows, curious as to what you had in mind. "Givingerbread reanatcment.” 

You expected a rebuttal, a laugh, anything, since you were joking. But the two of them actually looked thoughtful, glancing at each other. “It would be easier then trying to draw it out” Steve mentioned. “And easier then trying to get Tony to set up the AI model for us.” 

“Plus we get some fucking cookies... Im in.” Bucky grinned, obviously pleased in the options of snacks. What started as a joke from you became a very serious matter as the two Soldiers dragged you into the kitchen. The two of them looking at you expectedly. 

“I was just joking guys, Im not making you a hydra replica gingerbread base. You know how much shit that would take.” At this point you backtracking a bit, wishing the words hadnt fallen out of your mouth so damn easily cause you thought is was funny. 

“Nonsense, you wont be doing all of it. Were going to help.” Steves already moving to wash his hands as Bucky is digging through a drawer and slipping on a god damn “Kiss the Cook” apron, he found in a drawer, ties it swiftly around his back and rolls up his sleeves. 

“You know you always wanted to boss us around Doll.” Bucky smirks, wiggling brows in a teasing manner. “You finally get your chance.” 

You look between the two men, the two of them nodding in encouragement, Steve composed as ever, waiting for You to explain how to start, and Bucky well he was opening drawers, pulling out random stuff that he thought you might use. He held up a spatula with a smirk, slapping the utinsel against his palm. “How about we get this train moving kids.” 

Relenting, you turn to your phone for a recipe. “Okay fine, since you all insist. We need flour, sugar, eggs, ginger, cinnamon....” While your listing, both men are scrambling to find everything, and piling it on the counter, yourself you bring out some bowls, cookie cutters, lets face it. You needed the actual men to decorate like howling commandos. Turning on the oven to get it preheated, you search for decorations. “Steve, store run? We gotta make this accurate you know, and Buckys all dressed up for a day baking. Hate to send him." You just kinda motion lver Buckys getup, the kiss the cook stretched over his chest, the apron a size to small for him really.

Your already grabbing paper and jotting down a detailed list of food coloring, frosting, candies and such. Steve snatched the list when you held it out, he had a general idea of it all and nodded. "Dont hesitate to put Bucky to work. He just pretends to be all intimidating."

You roll your eyes and back in the kitchen theres a "Steve your a dick" retort from Bucky whos looking over the mess of ingredients piled on the counter. Steve, seemingly joyful as he grabbed keys and left, you suspect you might not see him at least another hour or two. No worries, you had the other super soldier on hand.

Heading back in you hand Bucky a bowl and eggs. "Start cracking, separating yolk from white, and no shells." You cant help but from watching him, looking a bit like a lost child, before he he starts to crack eggs and inspect for shells. You watch from the corner of your eye as you put together the dry ingredients, and start mesuring out the molasses, talking him through the rest of the buttercream frosting ingredients.

Dipping your finger in his finished product, you lick the tip of your finger, smirking at his widened eyes. Yea Steve, hes very intimidating. You maybe took a bit to much pleasure in teasing Bucky on occasion. "Mmmhh my very favorite part.... "

He cleared his throat and looked away, it might be a bit mean, but he would give it back later, this was a dance the two of you played. "Okay, what now?" He said a bit gruff and you grab your rolling pin, holding it to him.

Eyeing it a moment, his brow arched. "Ya want me to roll the dough?"

"Yea Buck, nice and thin, since you two want to make all these outer buildings as well." Pointing to Steve's sketching, And you reached in the dough and piled it on the counter on front of Bucky. "And Steve said to put you to work."

"I notice you gave Steve the easy job." He muttered as he started to flatten the dough.

"I knew you were more capable."

Bucky couldn't hide the grin at the compliment, and afterwards you both measured, cut and got the cookie sheets in the oven. Stealing part of the couch back from Sam and watching trash tv till the oven beeped. Bucky vaulted over the couch, head back into the kitchen and pulled them out of the oven.

"Are they firm?" You ask, peeking at them, a light brush of your fingers against them. The room smelled like bake gingerbread and smooth sugar. Tempting delectables to say the least.

"Yup, now what?"

"Cool and mantle your buildings." You say as You slide them off onto wire racks. "Go get the frosting, and I will show you." Already he was rummaging in the fridge to retrieve it. Peeling off the plastic cling, you pick up one of the cooler pieces and edged it with icing. Folding two pieces together. "Easy as that. You try."

Bucky took it so seriously, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he piped that icing. His brows furrowed together in a dip right at the center. You bite back a grin and get a large dollop of icing on your finger and flick it at the man. Landing right in his face. He drops his cookie in surprise and blinks though the icing. "Fucken hell, Y/N! Whats that for?" Wiping it off, he flicks it back at you and you squeal getting hit.

That's war!

"Oh its on Barnes" smirking as you grab a cookie and crumble it, shooting it at him. Cookies fly, icing it flung, flour, and sugar is used to blind one another, you two ducked around the table, screaming and yelling insults playfully.

Bucky tried using the hose at the kitchen sink to spray you, in which you ducked and rolled right into him, the two of you collapsing in a heap on the floor among all your hard work, broken and scattered. Steve stood in the doorway, arms laden with two paper bags, his jaw hanging open at the mess. Bucky pokes you to get your attention and the two of you sit up, covered. Head to toe in frosting, flour and cookies.

"I was just gone an hour..."

"Its a long time to be left unsupervised." You shrug as you smear some frosting off your shirt and lick it off your finger, Bucky helped himself to your shirt frosting to since he had thrown half the bowl on you.

"Oh damn, thats good!" He grins.

"What about this is good?! You mean your gingerbread murder scene?!" Steve toed a dead gingerbread man with the tip of his shoe.

Bucky looked around and glared at his friend. "IT WAS HISTORICALLY ACCURATE" His voice raided to defend the mess and you promptly stuff a cookie in his mouth to shut him up.

"Come on Steve. Did the Hydra base not look like this after you two and the howling commandos were done?" You throw a cookie at him which bounced off his chest. "Eat a cookie, you feel better" next to you Bucky continued eating broken gingerbread men, grinning at his friend and nodding.

"Best damn cookies besides your mama's!" Bucky added between mouthfuls

"I just... Pick this up you two before tony throws a fit." Turning with the bags of candy he bought, passing Sam, he ditched them on the man still scrolling youtube

"You couldn't watch them for two seconds Sam?"

"And break up that little love fest? Puh-lease" Sam grinned at Steve and dug into the paper bags looking through the snacks, pulling out twizzlers.

"SCORE!"

@what-is-your-plan-today @p8tn0lish @kitkatd7 @stuckonjbbarnes @sebbbystaaan @kimisama1989 @simsadventures @that-damn-girl @imanuglywombat @jtargaryen18 @stardancerluv​ @princess-evans-addict​

[xtequilarose]

Whatever He Wants

Just a brief smut featuring Javier x F!Reader (Nsfw)

Adult content that some may not be okay with. Proceed at your own risk.

Google translate sucks, but it was the best I could come up with.

The rope scraped roughly against your wrists as you squirmed against the bonds behind you. Beneath you, the bed roll was barely enough padding to keep you off the cold ground. All your senses were heightened as your vision was blocked by the red neckerchief Javier tied around your head.

You had no idea where he took you, as he tied the scarf around your eyes shortly after leaving camp. The only thing you were aware of was that you were somewhere secluded and deep in the forest. Occasionally you could hear the crunching of leaves as Javier walked around, admiring the sight of your disheveled form he had created. The heat between your legs already growing from the anticipation.

What felt like an eternity, was only about fifteen minutes before you felt him pull you against his chest, something cold and sharp pressed to your throat, while his warm breath brushed against your ear.

“You will be good for me, wont you, Niña?” His voice was deep and heavy with lust as he dragged the knife down, cutting through the top you wore. “You will let Papi do what he wants, wont you?”

You nodded in response.

He pulled the destroyed fabric away, slicing it from your bound arms, and tossing it aside, all while his mouth latched onto your now exposed collarbone, biting and licking the sensitive skin, earning soft mewls from your throat. The request was simple, but you knew what this entailed. You had complete trust in Javier, and it was rare that he was ever rough with you, but it was secretly something you craved. Any time alone with him was special, and knowing his plans for tonight made you squirm all the more.

The knife’s smooth metal slid lightly across your figure, tracing around the curves and valleys. The edges varied in pressure, never going deep enough to cut, but enough to remind you the dangers of making one wrong move. His arm wrapped around your abdomen, holding you, reminding you that you were safe. Knowing he would never hurt you with the blade, but knowing countless men have met their end with that very weapon turned you both on beyond words. The steel soon found its it's way to the valley between your breasts under your bra. With a swift flick of his wrist, the article was also cut away, thrown to the side with your shirt.

Javier paused a moment, admiring your helpless and exposed body, eyes tracing over the smooth skin before him. One of his calloused hands reached up, grabbing the sensitive mounds, roughly massaging them as his mouth continued to nip and suck at your neck. Your head rolled back against him while his fingers varied from feather light strokes to hard pinches on your nipples. His knife never left your flesh and it took everything you had to not buck your hips at the pleasure he gave you.

A moan escaped your lips, "Papi..."

You felt his hips twitch at the sound. The hand quickly released your chest and gripped the back of your head. Tugging on your hair by the roots, he forced your head backward. A gap escaped your mouth as his lips crashed against yours, bruising with the impact. Teeth scraped against each other as his mouth dominated yours.

Pulling you back into him more, he spun the knife around before sliding the weapon under the hem of your (pants/skirt). Once more he cut the garments from your body, leaving you bare to his eyes. He let his hand lightly stroke your soft pussy, the sharp bite of the knife at your throat. Large, rough fingers gently outlined your swollen lips, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit. A chuckle rumbled in his chest as you twitched and whimpered at his ministrations.

“Buena Puta,” he muttered as he pulled away from you, pulling his hand away and lightly slapping your face before returning the knife to its holster.

Pulling you onto your knees, you felt him grip your jaw. The long digits pressed into your chin as he ran his thumb across your lips. Upon feeling him apply pressure to them, you opened your mouth, letting him slide into you.

"Suck," it was like a command to a dog, and you obeyed as such.

Pursing your lips around the digit, you let your tounge glide over it, massaging him while you gently bobbed your head. You could hear his satisfied groan above you.

The bitter taste of sweat and dirt filled your mouth when he swiftly pressed the pad of his thumb against your tongue, forcing your jaw to open. He pulled you by the grip he formed around your mouth and chin, moving your head closer to his thighs. The familiar sound of a zipper and the rustling of fabric made your core twitch with want.

A blush crept on your face, knowing what was coming next. His hand left your mouth, a string of saliva breaking off as he entwined the fingers in your hair once more. You felt the tip of his cock press against your lips.

“Metértela en la boca,” he growled. “Open your mouth.”

Obediently, you parted your lips, letting him glide in your warm, soft mouth, almost sloppy with the saliva his thumb had worked up. As you accustomed yourself to having him in your mouth, you ran your tongue alongside the shaft, feeling it twitch. Carefully, you moved your head as you focused on taking more of him in. Tasting the precum dripping from the tip, you hummed in contentment, enjoying the taste of him.

“Ay, bueno… muy bien." Javier purred, grip tightening as he slid your head up and down.

You groaned as he started going deeper in your throat. From behind the neckerchief, your eyes squeezed shut, trying not to gag as he slowly started thrusting. His pace picked up as the warm movements of your tongue danced around him. Groaning, you felt him wrap his other hand in your hair, holding you completely still while he took complete control.

"That's it, Puta..." he panted.

Moans and praises started to mix with slurs and dirty talk as he went deeper. Your bound hands clenched, nails digging into your skin, as you tried to control your breathing. Drool spilled at the corners of your mouth as you gagged on the cock fucking your mouth. All the while, you could feel your thighs rub together, desperate for any kind of friction.

Javier loved the sight before him. Saliva sliding down his cock and on your chin, a beautiful mix of moans and gags escaping from your mouth, tears and mascara running from under your blindfold, outlining your beautiful face. You were so obedient for him, and he loved pushing your boundaries.

“You are such a good little whore for me, arent you, (Y/N)?” It came out in a flustered grumble. “Such a pretty mouth for me to fuck… so willing.”

You nodded your head as best you could. Suddenly, your air supply was cut off as he pinched his fingers over your nostrils. The vibrations of your struggle making your dominant lover groan as he shoved himself all the way inside you. It was no suprise when your mouth was soon filled when he came in spurts down your throat. A whimper came from you and he pulled out, cum dripping down your chin. Filling your deprived lungs with as much air as you could manage, you tried to regain your breath.

Holding your head in his hands, he slid onto his knees. He kissed your forehead before one hand released its grip and trailed down your body. Upon reaching your thighs, you spread your legs for him, hoping he would give you some much needed attention. Instead, you heard him click his tongue.

“Bad girl, Mija,” Javier scolded.

You felt yourself being forced forward, ass wiggling in the air as he drug you across his knee. His hand slapped harshly against your ass, making you grit your teeth.

“Sucking my cock turned you on that much, huh?” He growled smacking your round backside, making it jiggle. “I think you like being treated like a whore, dont you?”

All you could do was whimper and moan. The sting in your ass built while he spanked you, sending more tingles to your core. He was not wrong, and hearing him talk like that was not helping. If he wanted to play like this, you would indulge him.

“Papi!” you yelped feeling his hand punishing you roughly. "Yes, I love sucking your cock! It makes me so wet when you treat me like your whore!"

His calloused hands slowed to squeeze each side of your ass, making you whimper. Spreading you open, he laughed darkly running a hand down to your wet, swollen lips.

“You really do, don’t you...” he asked, gently stroking the soft, sensitive flesh, coating his fingers in your juices.

A moan was your response, taking the moment to spread your legs giving him better access. Growling, he slapped the tender area. Sucking in a breath, you felt him smack your needy pussy again, earning a cry from you as you tried to squirm away from the cruel assault.

“No!” he put an arm around your waist, keeping you in place. “Behave…” he smacked your sore ass once more.

Before you could do anything else, you could feel his hands teasing you again. Soft circles traced against you while you could only lay helplessly.

“That’s better… bueno niña… “ he purred sliding a finger in your dripping pussy. “Relax. Good girl.”

“Papi…” you moaned feeling another finger slide inside you.

Before you could blink Javier's hands wrapped around your waist. He lifted you, laying you on your back, legs over his strong shoulders. You felt something warm, wet, and soft dragged across your folds. Soon, his lips helped maneuver around your clit, sucking on the nub, flicking it with his tongue while the fingers returned back to there place inside your hole, rubbing against the plush walls. Even from behind the scarf, your eyes squeezed shut and let out a loud moan.

Sure, you looked good around his cock, but making you squeal and mewl like you were now was Javier's absolute favorite. Seeing you enjoying yourself and feeling so much pleasure because of him was better than anything else. Turning his head he nipped the inside of your thigh, chuckling at the disheveled whines at the loss of attention where you really wanted it.

He continued this for some time. Teasing between licking your pussy, then leaving to suck and bite other areas of your body, waiting until you were close, then pulling away completely, not allowing you cum. Uncontrollably, your hips started bucking up into him, desperate for release, growing tired of the edging.

“Javi! Please!?” you could not help yourself, you needed him.

“Ay, so needy, aren’t you, mija?” he asked.

The only thing you could do was nod.

You heard the rustling of fabric before once more you were rolled on your stomach and he lifted your hips up. One of his hands gripped the rope around your wrists pulling you onto his awaiting cock. There was no preparation and he thrust deep into you, his pace picking up instantly as he stretched your walls, forcing your body to accommodate him. Bitting your tongue, you could not suppress the noises that came from you as he pounded mercilessly into you. Leaning over you, he slid his free hand down to your pussy, circling your clit, making you quiver.

“You feel so good, Querida,” He moaned, removing his hand from your bound wrists, and wrapping that arm around you, letting the hand tease your nipples once more.

“Javi!” You couldn’t help yourself as your body shook in need.

His hand roughly massaged you breast, occasionally pinching your sensitive nipples, the other working your clit, was all you needed as you rode out the inevitable orgasm. You could not even catch your breath after as Javier’s thrusts didn’t slow down, and neither did his touches. A sharp pain made you flinch when his mouth bit down on your collar bone, his teeth digging into different areas around your throat, marking you as his. A cry escaped your mouth, the overstimulation getting to you once more.

The world suddenly opened up to you when the neckerchief was pulled from your eyes. Blinking, you tried to adjust your eyesight to the light, and catch your breath as you shook in his embrace. Grabbing the back of your head Javier pulled you into another rough kiss, hips still pounding into yours. From the erratic pace, hands tightening around you, and the incomprehensible mix of English and Spanish, it was no surprise when the warm spurts filled you, your walls milking him.

After some time, he pulled out. Javier rolled onto his back, pulling you down with him. It took a few moments, but the cold metal of his once sheathed knife slid between your still bound hands and cut the rope holding them. Immediately, you shook them, trying to work out the cramps and regain feeling back in them.

“Are you okay, mi amor?” he asked, wrapping himself around you, kissing the bruises and bite marks he left earlier.

All you do was nod and muster out a quick, “Yeah.”

His hand ran down your sides as your body finally started to relax. The pleasant feeling of his lips trailed down your body, apologetically lapping and kissing any damage. Your eyes fluttered in contentment, enjoying the affectionate side of Javier that you were used to. A firm grip on your leg brought you out of your calm state as they were lifted up over his shoulders once more.

“Javi-" your voice was cut off as the flat of his tongue ran over your abused pussy.

“Sorry, Querida,” he laughed against your folds. “I can’t allow you to go to sleep so… dirty.” His eyes locked with yours, punctuating the word with a slow lick.

When his lips wrapped around you swollen clit, you knew he had no intentions of sleeping tonight. You sighed and prepared for another round.

[neoculturetechxgot7]

♤ // Six of Spades // ♤

part 1

Summary - Mark Lee offers you to join his semi-legal club, where he and his friends count cards and win money playing blackjack every Saturday night.

Pairing: Mark Lee x Reader

Au: College!Au, Gambling!Au

Word Count: 2,5k

Warnings: Gambling references, mild language

All the dull golden rays coming from the streetlights lining the pavement do little to provide illumination, as you hastily walk across a deserted neighbourhood, hand clutching onto the soft material of your coat. It's silent, too silent to be comfortable but you keek going, feet slightly shaking, both from the cold breeze pickling its way through your clothing and the eerie atmosphere around you, as if every soul has vanished.

A sudden roaring has you jumping in terror, as a car speeds past you, leaving a trail of thick black fume on and your heart banging erratically inside your chest. "Focus" you mutter to yourself in an attempt to calm your nerves and reminisce his words.

"Left turn on the central road, then right after the cathedral and left again. Look for the neon sign." Mark's raspy voice echoes in your head like a ghost and your gaze lands on a small gated church ahead of you, newfound hope blooming inside your chest. You're in the right route.

Picking up your pace with a faint grin, following the orders that black haired boy had given you, your feet stroll on the grey concrete quicker, anticipation growing inside of you. His image unconsciously flows in your mind, with his glassy eyes that possess the sweetest shade of chestnut and his sharp edges and high cheekbones and that damn smile that's so boldly carved in your brain, as if his pearly teeth can brighten away every shadow.

Another turn and you find yourself in a narrow alley, the complete lack of lighting pulling you out of your thoughts to look up the hugh buildings caging you inbetween paint-chipped walls, a smell of gasoline and trash in the air. Beaming neon letters catch your attention, brushing purple strokes of light on the ground. "Three Of Diamonds" the sign reads, decorating the wall above a rusty door, old enough for you to wonder whether it will collapse upon knocking on it. After convincing yourself that this is indeed the right place and taking a few hesitant steps through the shadows, your knuckles bang on the cool metal twice. You can her shuffling from the other side and then the screeching sound of hinges, before a familiar face appears before you, strands hair messily pocking out of a green beanie and a large hoodie hugging his figure.

His eyes light up at the sight of you shyly greeting him with and airy wave of your hand, the corner of his mouth forming a smirk. "I was starting to think you wouldn't show up after all." He says before gesturing you inside, voice smooth as silk.

"Well, I was seriously debating whether to come or not." You reply with a raised eyebrow and step inside the small residence. Or better say, warehouse. The floor is dusty, weird stains evident of its rough surface and a discreet smell of mold makes you noticeably cringe. You begin scanning your surroundings to notice a red leather couch on the side of the room and a tv hanged on the wall across you.

"I'm glad you came." Mark captures your attention, geaturing towards the large table in the center of the room, covered in thick green felt and single deck of cards laying on top. "Have a seat."

You mentally count the chairs around it, adding up to a total of 6. "Who else are we waiting for?" You ask watching him grab one and turn one around and sit with his elbows propped on its back, fingers already shuffling the cards in an instinctive way.

"Renjun, Jeno, Heachan and Jeamin." Every name rings in your ears like a bell to trigger hour memory. You recognize them, but have yet to officially meet anyone . Jeno and Renjun are in the same major as you and you share a couple of classes with Heachan and Jeamin, but other than that -and some quick glances in the hallways- you have no other interaction with them.

Your coat slides off your shoulders and you settle down next to him. His presence stirs up something inside you, emotions mixing up in an mysterious combination.

"You're smart, I guess you've already figured out why I called you here, right?" Mark asked, his dark chocolate eyes not leaving yours.

You really wished you had. "It's something that involves gambling." You said pointing at the deck in his hands and he nodded. "And I think it's kinda illegal..." You continued, earning a chuckle from him, his head shaking in agreement. "Other than that, I really dont know."

Mark leaned back in his seat. "So, you got a good idea of the whole concept." That smirk lingered on his lips again. "But you're missing some basic details. Allow me to explain. Remember what I told you yesterday in the library?" You hummed in agreement and brought your weird encounter back.

Mark Lee was the hot senior that got involved in almost everything, his name well known among students and professors around campus. You had met through common friends in a party last year and he was polite enough to greet you every time he passed by you at the hallway, but you didn't talk that much to consider him anything more than an acquaintance. So it was out of nowhere when he sat across from you, while you were sank in your physics text book, and sparked a conversation. "Hey, I've heard you're really great at linear algebra" You were startled and couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his awkward compliment. "Uh...thanks." Mark leaned loser, his fingers tangled together on the wooden table. "Do you, by any chance, happen to know how to play blackjack?" You were taken aback by that. What? Why was he even asking such a thing? You set the book down and tilted you head to the side. "Yeah...But I've never been to a casino before." Your voice came out low and hesitant.

"Great. Now one last question. Would you like to earn fast cash?" That caught you off guard. You didn't respond and kept staring at him, trying to pinpoint signs that would prove he was just messing with you. Maybe this was a prank, he was a senior after all. But he didn't even flutter an eyelash as he waited for your answer, eyes trying to read your expression, and you had to admit, his question had picked at your interest. You ducked forward, your eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?" Mark scanned the room, moving form rows and rows of books to students that were walking by. "I can't really tell you here. But we can meet up somewhere close by." His voice was only a hoarse whisper as he started giving you directions to the location. "Tomorrow, 11. And don't tell anyone." He swiftly got up with a grin plastered on his face and made his way out, leaving you with a confused grimace, trying to make sense of the last 2 minutes with him.

And now you were sitting across Mark, as he proceeded to explain the reason he had invited you over. "So basically we play this game, blackjack" his fingers were quick to start dealing the cards he was holding around the table. "And we place bets. I guess it is gambling yes, but we're not really gamblers." He spared you a single knowing glance before placing another card on your pile. "A gambler plays based solely on their luck. They take risks, bet on chance. We, on the other hand, bet on an insured win."

You crossed your arms over you chest, biting your lip while trying to understand where he was going with that. Once done dealing the cards, he sat down, facing you. "See, we've found this way, this method, to predict our chances of winning."

"How?" you cut him off. He smirked at the curiosity written across your face. "It's simple, we count cards and play accordingly. We bet, we win and we gain money. And practically, 'counting' isn't illegal, only the gambling club we play in is." You laughed at his remark.

A few long moments of silence followed, where Mark fidgeted with the sleeve of his hoodie, waiting for you to respond. "So, you go to your nice little gambling club or whatever, you do this 'counting' thing and win money. Sounds nice. But why am I here?"

"So" He paused to wipe his palm on his tighs, with a sigh before he continued, shrugging. "This club we play in is only for college students and we usually win a fair amount of cash but we wanted something more. Try to catch the big fish."

You nodded at his words, seeing where that would end.

"So we have decided to try our 'luck' in an actual..." Your voice cut him off mid-sentence "Casino." Mark grinned, he liked that you were following him that well. "But we need one more person. Someone that has the skills." "And that's where I come in." "Yeah." You got up and began pacing around, his eyes following you.

Once more, silence fell over the room as you took your time, processing every bit of information Mark had given you the last 5 minutes. For a few seconds you wondered if this whole offer was legit, or Mark was simply pranking you, just as you had thought in the library. He and four other guys were going to this gambling club where they counted cards and made themselves richer and richer every time, but apparently that wasn't enough for them and they needed you, a complete stranger that was good in algebra, to help them do the same in an actual casino. As in, cheat in an actual casino....as in practically rob an actual casino. Yeah, ain't happening.

"No way." You spat out standing in front of him. Mark tensed up, his face morphing into a frown. "What? Why?"

"I don't know...maybe because I don't want to go to jail for illegal gambling?" Sarcasm dripped from your tongue as you pronounced every word, shoulders shrugging. He jolted up from his chair, lightly grasping your arm, sending shivers down your spine. A reassuring look settled on his face as he leaned closer. "That's not happening. I already told you counting isn't illegal, no one can arrest you for counting cards. And it's only for one night..."

A loud banging on the door interrupted your conversation, causing you both to turn to that direction. Mark sighed and reached for the door, to let four boys, whose faces you instantly recognized, inside. One of them, Jeno, had black hair and a tall, muscular frame just as his blonde friend Jaemin, the one that run to pull Mark into a tight embrace upon entering. The other two, Heachan and Renjun walked in afterwards, patting their friend on the back, before coming to stand around the table, eyes focusing on you. Mark pushed the door closed and came to stand by you, hand lingering on the small of your back as he gestured you to the others.

"So guys, y/n, decided to join us for today's session." Mark announced and Jeno stepped forward extending his arm to shake your hand. "Hey, I'm Jeno." His smile made his eyes crinkle. "We're together in linear algebra."

"Yeah, but I didn't know you had noticed me before." You replied, arching your eyebrow.

"Actually, Jeno was the one that took an interest in your skills." Mark commented and you watched the other chuckle and run a hand through his locks. "Yeah, I was really impressed with your answers in lectures. I think you'd be really good at counting." He winked at the last sentence.

You mumbled a brief 'thank you' as Jeno took a seat around the table, beside yours. Next to him was Jaemin who instantly waved when your eyes landed on him. He introduced himself to you and you did the same, then moved on to the next one, Renjun, who leaned over the table to shake your hand. His voice was soft but a steady tone tangled throughout his words. Lastly, came Heachan, who had picked up the pile of cards in front of him, already fanning them out in his fingers. He didn't even bother to raise his glance at you when you asked for his name -even though you were well aware of it and the popular, rebellious status that came with it-. "Haechan." His tone was cold, almost spiteful, as he kept chewing his gum and eyeing the numbers on his cards, uninterested in you.

Mark didn't seem to notice his friend's behaviour as he continued. "So I was just telling her about our plan"

"And I think I'm gonna have to pass on your generous offer. What you got going on seems fun, I guess, but I'd prefer not to risk it." You cut him off once more, hand reaching for you coat on the chair, before Mark swiftly placed his own over it. "Wait." He just can't take 'no' for an answer, can he?

"Mark, I think I've made up my mind." You said breathlessly, your eyes rolling before you pressed your lips together in slight annoyance.

He didn't back down. "I think you haven't. Because you knew something was going on here yet you came. That must mean something." His voice was low but soft, words hitting a spot inside you. "Maybe it was just my curiosity." You replied, shrugging.

Mark's eyes glimmered under the dim yellow light inside the warehouse. "Aren't you curious about how we do this then? Wouldn't you want to play one round to find out?" A sigh left your lips as you rolled your eyes. "Mark..."

"Y/n please, just one round." Mark insisted, his fingers squeezing yours. You looked over at the table, where the others were fanning out their cards and Jeno selecting the top card from the deck. As much as you wanted to walk out that door and forget about Mark Lee's stupid offer, you couldn't hide the desire burning in your chest. There was something luring you to that green-felt covered table, the pile of cards in front of your seat calling for you and the looks of the men around you, as if pleading you to stay. Even Haechan's attention was withdrawn from his cards and focused on you. And you needed money too, it wasn't like you were gonna land a good paying job the minute you graduate college either way. But above all, you needed, a little of what seemed like an adventure. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

You took a deep breath, blinking a couple of times. With a groan you pulled your chair back and sat down, gathering the cards in your palm, as you watched Mark Lee's smile making an appearance on his face again and Jeno, the dealer for tonight, sliding a single card to the center of the table. The ace of spades to start the game.

[fucking-zawa-sensei]

hey i know youre busy and that you want to focus on dont kid yourself and you have other request so i know youll take your time to get to this, but for the fic request could you do some dad mic and dadzawa adopting eri?

Title: Not Without Trying, Chapter 1 of (3?)

Pairing: Erasermic – Shouta Aizawa|Eraserhead/Hizashi Yamada|Present Mic

Rating: T for Swearing

Categories: established relationship, adoption, angst, comfort, new parents, dadzawa, dadzashi, parenting

Word Count: 7,000+

Notes: I am terribly sorry this took nearly a month for me to get to. I hope it was worth the wait! I feel like you wanted a fluffy, feel good fic, but I ended up throwing a whole damn plot at this thing and now I’m writing a three chapter fic. This chapter is angst heavy, but don’t worry, they’ll adopt Eri and it will all be cute in the end! Typical me, huh? I have to turn everything into angst.

This chapter doesn’t have much Dadzawa in it, but it will come next chapter!

Don’t read this if you aren’t past the Overhaul arc in the manga.

This is slightly canon divergent in that Eri is in the hospital for longer than is implied in the manga, and moreover, while the manga has essentially ridden Eri quirkless for the foreseeable future, she has some ability to use her powers within this fic. Albeit, those abilities are very minimal, as I am sticking to the whole, “her horn is small and she used up all her energy” part of the manga story line.

Read it on Ao3 here

Not Without Trying: Chapter 1

Yamada had become familiar with the walk toEri’s hospital room over the past couple of weeks. There was the slightlyskewed pastel painting of a seashell on the shore, hanging from a nail in thewall right before the turn down the pediatric wing. Then he’d pass twelvedifferent doors with little cut out paper patterns scrawled with children’s’names taped to them.

Then he’d make a left down another hall and he’dbe on his way to Eri’s room, far back, tucked at the end, mostly empty exceptfor her.

Just in case, they’d said.

Yamada could navigate it almost as well as hisand Aizawa’s house by now. Lately, to him, the hospital more or less felt like home.This was where he’d spend most of his nights, tucked into the side of a chair,grade book open in his lap, talking with his husband when he had the chance.

Tonight is no different. He stops outside Eri’sroom, a plastic bag full of takeout held in one hand, and gently knocks on thesliding door. It rattles a bit in the track. He hears some soft mumbling andthen Aizawa’s voice, saying, “Come in.”

Yamada pushes open the door and gives them botha smile. This late into the night, Aizawa and Eri are usually done with testingand quirk control exercises. Aizawa had decided to stay late one night, withthe doctors’ permission, after Eri had a particularly trying time with thetests and was becoming closed off. He’d texted Yamada, asking him if he wouldmind eating dinner at the hospital, and Yamada had responded by bringing someleftovers from a dinner they’d made together earlier in the week. Eri had beenshy at first, but opened up after some jokes and good food.

They’d kept up the routine ever since. Aizawaspent many days of the week hanging back as the doctors did their tests,wanting him there for a sense of security, just in case she regained enoughstrength to potentially have another incident. Occasionally, they’d try to runthrough exercises with her, in attempt to teach her to control her abilities,by having Aizawa keep her quirk in check while she did so. Those kinds of daysoften exhausted the both of them.

Yamada was always there with a bag of hot food,a smile, and a plethora of stories to pick them up. It’s the least he can do.He wants to support his husband, and he wants Eri to feel secure and remindedthat there exist people who care about her for more than her quirk.

He sets the bag of food down on the hospitaltable at the foot of Eri’s bed. The girl has her blankets piled in her lap andis sitting up at the head of the bed, watching him. Aizawa is hunched over in achair to her right, he doesn’t seem particularly upset, but his eyes are redderthan usual, the bags below them a little darker, a little larger.

Ah, one of those days, then, Yamada thinks.

Yamada pulls out the boxes of take out and setsthem on the rolling plastic table. He pops the lid on the first container andit releases a puff of steam. Aizawa’s head tilts up and he turns to look atYamada. He gives Aizawa a private smile and a little nod before opening upanother container.

The room starts smelling a bit less like staleair and a bit more like home.

“Eri-chan,” Yamada says, cheerily. She looks upat him. “What would you like to eat?”

–

They’re mostly done with dinner by the timeEri’s caseworker gently knocks against the door. This, too, had become routine.She stopped by every morning and night to check on Eri’s progress and how thegirl was handling everything emotionally. She was a kind woman, who Yamada andAizawa had grown accustomed to. Sometimes, if Yamada had brought a smalldessert, she’d stay to eat with them after finishing her daily report. They’dexchange small talk and complain about silly things like why nobody had figuredout how to make the material of a jacket not get caught in a zipper yet.

Tonight, Yamada hadn’t brought any dessertalong. Aizawa is stacking the takeout containers neatly together and puttingthem in the recycling and trash in the corner of the room. The caseworker,Nakano Megumi, walks through the open door, Eri’s files held to her chest, andgives a welcoming nod to Aizawa. She passes him by and walks over to the bed,where Yamada is helping Eri fold the paper takeout menu the restaurant had putinto their bag into a small pinwheel.

Yamada looks up and gives Nakano a smile, whichshe returns warmly, before pulling up a seat on the other side of Eri’s bed,leaving the one next to Yamada open for Aizawa. Yamada presses his finger downon the corner of the menu and smoothes out a fold. Nakano places her clipboardand Eri’s file atop the mattress, leaning forward to rest her arms on the bed.Yamada likes how comfortable and relaxed Nakano is, never intruding on Eri’sspace, and never acting too serious, despite sometimes talking about veryserious things. She was professional, but gentle. She made Yamada feel calm,which is why he has finally gotten up the nerve to ask her about Eri’ssituation beyond the hospital.

Aizawa and he had discussed it a number oftimes, or, at least, Yamada had tried to discuss it. Aizawa clearly cared aboutEri, Yamada did too. On the days Aizawa came home early from the hospital,Yamada was a little sad he didn’t have to get extra food for one more mouth. Heliked showing Eri how to do origami, or playing shiritori with her. When he hada lot of grading to do and was too busy to play games, he’d look up from hiswork and see Aizawa smiling as he talked to Eri or listened to what she had tosay.

The first few days after awakening, Eri was veryquiet and withdrawn. Aizawa had expressed his frustrations to Yamada,collapsing into bed, scrubbing his hands over his tired eyes, and cursing thevillains who made her so scared. It was upsetting, seeing her unable to smileand enjoy the kind gestures people tried to show her. In her world, kindnesscame with a catch.

They were slowly trying to undo that way ofthinking.

Eri still wasn’t particularly communicative withstrangers, but she’d started talking to Yamada and Aizawa much more. Aizawa wasa constant in her days and nights now. Yamada knew part of her fondness of himsprouted from his presence during her control training, knowing that he wouldstop her from hurting anyone. On a base level, that thinking was alsodestructive, since they were trying to stop her from seeing herself only as abringer of harm, but it was better than believing no one was there for her atall.

Aizawa walks back over from the trash can, droppinginto the chair beside Yamada. He shifts in his seat and Yamada has known himlong enough to see what’s coming next. Yamada scoots a bit closer to the edgeof his own seat so Aizawa can lean his head over onto his husband’s shoulder.Yamada presses his lips to the top of Aizawa’s hair for a second beforereaching his arm around Aizawa’s back to bring him closer. It’s a little hard,since the hospital chairs have arms on them, but it’s alright, they’ve figuredout how to navigate the barriers by now.

Nakano smiles brightly at their embrace, beforeshooting Aizawa a brief look of sympathy. She turns toward Eri, who is lookingdown at her paper pinwheel and paying them no mind.

“That looks cool!” Nakano says, getting Eri’sattention. “Did you make that?”

Eri lifts her head slowly and then looks atYamada. He nods his head encouragingly.

“Yamada-san helped me make it…” Eri responds, hervoice quiet.

“Did he?” Nakano asks, looking at Yamada. “Youknow what might be nice? Adding a little color! Would you like to color it?”she asks Eri.

Eri turns toward Yamada, but he notices her eyesare focused on Yamada’s shoulder, where Aizawa’s head is nestled. Yamada canfeel Aizawa’s slow, steady breaths rising and falling under where his hand isplaced on Aizawa’s side. He doesn’t have to look down to know he’ll see hishusband’s eyes closed.

“That sounds like a fun idea!” Yamada agreeswith Nakano, trying to keep his voice quiet, but still energetic. “I bet wecould convince the doctor to let us use one of those tongue depressors as astick for it, too.”

“Okay,” Eri says, focused on him now.

Nakano shifts in her seat and Yamada looks over.She bends down to sift through her bag, pulling out a Ziploc bag full ofcrayons. She sets the bag by Eri. 

“Here, you can use these,” Nakano says.

Eri tentatively takes a green crayon from thebag and props the pinwheel on her knee. Yamada realizes she’s trying to giveherself a hard surface to color on and quickly lurches forward to pull thetable they’d had their food on closer to Eri. The movement knocks Aizawa offhis shoulder, and out of the corner of his eye he sees his husband quickly grabthe bed railing for support as he falls forward.

“Sorry,” Yamada says over his shoulder, his tonequiet and a little teasing. He wheels the table in front of Eri. “Here, you candraw on this. It will be easier.”

The table is a little high, so she shifts to siton her knees, but follows his instructions and starts coloring in one of thepanels of the pinwheel. Yamada sits back down in his seat and gives Aizawa asmile, the other man rubbing at his eye and giving Yamada a halfhearted glare.

“Love you too, babe,” Yamada whispers, leaninginto Aizawa’s space.

“Mhm, sure you do,” Aizawa responds, droppinghis hand back down to his lap. He looks to Nakano and says, “Sorry, I didn’tmean to fall asleep.”

“It’s alright!” Nakano says, waving Aizawa off.“This is exhausting work.”

Nakano redirects her gaze to Eri.

“It’s nice to take breaks,” she says, liftingthe bag of crayons off the bed and putting them on the table. “Right?”

Eri looks at her and nods, then grabs an orangecrayon from the bag, using it to add swirls to the panel she’d colored green.

“How are you feeling after today, Eri?”

Yamada didn’t like this part of the questions.Nakano is nice and Eri gets along with her fairly well, and he knew that Nakanohad to track Eri’s emotional state and blah, blah, blah, but it was alwaysawkward and tense. It was clear Eri never wanted to answer, and even clearerthat she would never tell the truth.

“Fine,” Eri says, drawing a circle.

Yamada looks to Aizawa, who is also watching Eridraw with a slight frown on his face. His tired eyes dart over to meet Yamada’sfor a second before sliding back to Eri. Yamada reaches down and pats Aizawa’sknee.

“What did you do today?” Nakano asks.

“Tests,” Eri responds.

“How do you feel they went?”

For as much as he didn’t like it, Nakano didhave a good way of wording things. Rather than asking Eri if she progressed inher training or what the results of her tests were, she structured thequestions around Eri’s view of the events of the day. Did Eri feel things wentwell? Did she feel they went badly? How can they work to do better?

“Umm…” Eri says, pausing her coloring to look upat the ceiling, then back to Nakano. “Okay?”

Nakano nods, not asking for clarification. Sheleans forward a bit, crossing her legs.

“Can you tell me something you did today thatmade you feel good?”

Eri looks down at the pinwheel, then at Yamada.He can feel his eyes get wide and he wishes he were better at hiding his shock.

“I liked making this,” Eri says, picking up thepinwheel. “I like making things.”

“That’s good!” Nakano says. “Maybe Yamada canshow you how to make more things? I have an origami book at my office forchildren. I think you might like it.”

Eri’s posture straightens up a bit at her words,obviously interested in the idea of learning to make more patterns out ofpaper.

“Okay!” she says, her voice excited, thendropping back down to her usual quiet volume. “Please?”

“I’ll bring it with me next time,” Nakanopromises, scribbling what Yamada assumes is a reminder in her notepad.

Then again, it might be a note about how Eri hadshown genuine excitement about something, but then immediately defaulted toasking permission in a more tentative voice.

Baby steps, that was what Aizawa always said.

Any progress is progress.

When Nakano is finished writing she looks backat Eri, saying, “What about the things you did with the doctors today? Can youtell me more about that?”

Eri frowns.

Yamada looks over at Aizawa, but he’s staringdown at his boots with his arms crossed.

“Not really…” Eri says.

Nakano looks at Yamada and he shrugs. They madea habit of not discussing Eri’s tests and exercises at the dinners they shared.Her gaze shifts to Aizawa, but he’s distinctly paying none of them any mind.

For a second, Yamada thinks Nakano mightactually ask Aizawa how the tests went, but that’s not her job and it’s notAizawa’s responsibility to answer. She seems to think better of it and focusesback on Eri, who is sifting through the bag of crayons.

Obviously, it had not been a good day.

“You said that it went ‘okay,’ that means itwasn’t all bad, right?” Nakano asks.

“Yeah,” Eri agrees.

“So what went well? What did you think that youdid okay at today?”

“I didn’t hurt anybody.”

Yamada’s mouth opens against his will, but hemanages to not actually let out any noise. Aizawa flinches beside him.

“You don’t have to worry about hurting peopleanymore,” Aizawa says, his voice stern, but gentle.

Eri’s focus zeroes in on him immediately andYamada is reminded again how his presence is her safety net.

Aizawa and Eri stare at each other for a fewseconds before Nakano cuts in.

“Aizawa is right, Eri. You are safe here, and wewill make sure your quirk does not affect anyone else. We’ve taken measure tomake sure that nothing goes wrong. You can relax,” Nakano says. As if to proveher point, she reaches forward and lays her hand on Eri’s forearm, giving it asmall squeeze. Eri recoils a bit a first, but then relaxes when she realizesher quirk is not active and Nakano is not a threat.

“Okay…” Eri says quietly.

Nakano pats her arm once before removing herhand.

Yamada looks back at Aizawa, wondering whatexactly did happen today that has them both in such a bad mood. He’d assumed itwas just another day of quirk training and they were both tired, but by Eri’sreaction it seemed to be more than that. Had she almost slipped up? Did Aizawahave to step in?

These were questions for later, though, inprivate.

He didn’t want to ask things like that in frontof Eri when they were trying so hard to rebuild her confidence and trust.

Nakano looks at her watch for a second and thenwrites something down in her notes again.

“It’s getting pretty late. How about I let youkeep those crayons so you can finish your pinwheel and we’ll talk moretomorrow?”

“I’d like that,” Eri says.

“Okay!” Nakano says happily, closing her folder.“I hope that you will have a good day tomorrow, Eri, but don’t forget that it’salright to have bad days as well. We all do,” she says, looking at Yamada andthen Aizawa.

“Having a bad day does not make you a badperson,” Nakano finishes, turning back to smile at Eri, who is looking at herwith wide eyes. Eri nods when she’s finished talking and Nakano excusesherself, waving goodbye as she steps out of the room.

Yamada waits a few minutes after the caseworkerleaves the room before he makes a move to get up, telling Aizawa and Eri thathe’s going to get some coffee from the machine in the hall. Aizawa declines hisoffer to pick him up a cup as well, saying he needs to get some sleep tonightwhen they get home. Yamada frowns a bit at that. Part of him wants to convinceAizawa they should just head back now, then, if he’s so tired, but he knowsAizawa will politely decline.

They never leave until Eri is ready for them to.

Yamada asks Eri if she wants anything from thevending machines and is a little surprised when she quietly asks that if theyhave any cookies, will he split them with her. Yamada excitedly agrees, happyshe shares his sweet tooth and even happier that she’s starting to ask forthings she wants.

Now, he has two missions:

Talk to the caseworker.

Get those cookies.

When he makes it outside the door, he’s a littlesurprised to see Nakano hasn’t actually made it very far. She’s sitting in oneof the chairs that line the hallway, making a few notes in Eri’s file. Shelooks up when Yamada approaches, her short black hair has a bit of fringe inthe front and it falls in front of her eyes. She closes the folder on her lapand stands up, running her hand through her bangs to push them out of the way.

“Hey, Yamada,” she greets him. “What can I dofor you?”

Yamada bites the inside of his lip a bit, tryingto figure out how best to word his question. Nakano tilts her head, lookingconfused. She breaks eye contact to readjust the papers in her arms, openingthe folder a smidge to straighten some pages that had been sticking out of thetop. Not looking her in the eyes helps Yamada gather his nerves.

“So, uh…” Yamada says, rubbing the back of hisneck. “What’s the plan for Eri?”

“Plan?” Nakano asks, looking up from her folderof papers.

“Yeah, I mean, after she gets out of here. Whatis the plan? Who will take care of her?”

Nakano frowns, shifting her weight to her otherfoot.

“There really isn’t one at this point. Herfather is dead, her mother abandoned her, and her grandfather is deathly ill,and moreover, affiliated with a villainous organization. You know all of that,already,” she says. Yamada nods. Nakano sighs and the breath she let loose isheavy between them.

“I suppose she’d have to be sent to an adoptioncenter. With her quirk, though…” she trails off, looking back toward the shutdoor of Eri’s room. Yamada turns behind him to look at the same door. Feelingthat they’re a bit too close for comfort, he gently guides Nakano a littlefurther down the hall so they can talk in more secure privacy. He might nothave the best hearing, but Aizawa sure as hell did.

“With her quirk, there’s no way she’d beadopted?” Yamada asks, picking the conversation back up.

The casework shakes her head.

“With her quirk, should we make no progresshere, she can’t be sent to live with other children. She can’t be sent to livewith anyone. There’s just too much risk. Maybe Eri could learn to keep herdistance, but what about others? Children are these balls of energy, they’rephysical…if Eri has a bad day…if something sets her off and some kids triesto comfort her with a hug…” Nakano shakes her head. She’s looking off into thedistance, over Yamada’s shoulder. He doesn’t want to think about those thingseither, but she’s right. It’s definitely a concern.

It’s a very big concern.

“I highlydoubt she’d last long in a foster home, should anyone even agree to it. We’rerequired to tell parents about the children’s quirks,” Nakano reminds him.

“What if,” Yamada starts, and then continues. “Whatif…what if she didn’t have to have full control?”

The Nakano looks back to him, tilting her head abit in question. Yamada takes this as an invitation to continue.

“What if…if Shouta and I…” Yamada pauses tocollect his thoughts. Looking down, he says, “With his quirk, he can help her.He can be around her without worrying about the consequences.”

“Can he?” Nakano asks, skeptically. “There arestill consequences. His quirk can’t be active all the time. He can’t beconstantly watching her. What kind of life is that, for either of them? Eriis…Eri is a wonderful girl and I know that we all want to help her very much,but frankly, she is a danger to every living thing around her. She can’t benear people. I know you and Aizawa want to help her, I know that Aizawa’s workwith her has been helping her, but hecan’t dedicate every hour of the day to being by her side. He can’t have hisquirk active all the time. As she gets stronger, that risk will grow. No poweris infinite, Yamada. If he slips up and she overpowers him…”

Yamada shakes his head and waves his hands alittle, signaling that she should stop. He didn’t want to think about that.

The caseworker shrugs her shoulders heavily, Eri’sweighty folder moving with the rise and fall.

“Yes, of course, you two adopting her would bean ideal situation. Not only are you more than capable of protecting her andyourselves, but she trusts you both and you get along well. That being said, asher caseworker, in her current condition, I cannot comfortably adopt her to anyparents, pro heroes or not.”

She places her hand on Yamada’s arm, squeezingit a bit so he looks at her. She smiles.

“Things might change, though. She can getbetter. She might learn to control her quirk. That’s certainly a possibility.We need to encourage her to train both her mind and body. It’s a lot to ask ofa young child, but I think Eri can do it. I believe in her, you should too,”Nakano says.

Yamada quickly nods along with her words. Ofcourse he believed in Eri, of course he knew she was strong. Of course he’dencourage her.

“I am happy to hear that she has prospectiveparents. It is always good to know someone cares about the children I am tryingto help, and that there is hope for them, but it is my job to protect her firstand foremost. Eri has…seen far too much for a child. She has been conditionedto believe her powers are nothing but a curse, and that she is incapable ofdoing anything except hurt people. We don’t want to prove her right. Youunderstand?” she asks. Yamada nods again in response. “If her conditionchanges, we can consider it. For now, let’s put this conversation on pause.”

Yamada does his best to smile at Nakano. Heknows she’s right, but it still hurts to hear the definitive no hangingin the air.

Mission one, failed.

He says goodnight to Nakano and goes on the huntfor his coffee and Eri’s cookies, trying not to think about the possibility ofEri never getting better, and instead focusing on which cookie she might likebest.

It’s pretty late now, around 8 o’clock, andvisiting hours are over, so there’s no line for the machines. The doctors hadbeen very accommodating to Eri’s situation, everyone having taken quite aliking to her, so they never pushed Aizawa and Yamada to leave at the normaltime.

Yamada decides to get the cookies beforestarting the coffee machine, walking up in front of the glass and scanning therows of snacks for something sweet. About halfway down, he reaches the dessertsection. There are little boxes of strawberry Pocky and chocolate Pucca. Hiseyes tick over the boxes and bags until they land on a package of minichocolate chip cookies.

“Perfect!” Yamada exclaims in English. He pullshis wallet out of his back pocket and fishes out the right amount of money forone bag. It takes him a few tries, and having to straighten out the slightlycrumpled yen, but the machine takes his money eventually. He presses thebuttons for the cookies and watches the small plastic doors release the treats.

Except, they don’t come falling down the waythey’re supposed to.

Rather, they wedge themselves against the glass,half of the package caught by the closing doors.

“Nooooo,” Yamada whines, pressing his hands upagainst the glass front of the vending machine. “No, no, no. Come on!”

Yamada hits the glass with his palm, but thecookies don’t budge. He grumbles nonsense, thankful no one is around to see himfighting with a metal box, and pulls more money out of his wallet. He pressesthe buttons with a bit more force this time, foot tapping as he waits for themachine to rev up, mechanics moving, and release another packet of cookies.

Aizawa won’t eat them, but they’ll still besealed, so Yamada figures he can bring them by another day to share with Eriagain.

Too bad the second pouch of cookies somehowimpossibly smacks the first bag down a little bit, but manages to get both bagssquished in an awkward position between the glass and more snacks on the lowerlevels.

Yamada spends a few seconds staring at the twobags, mouth slack and hanging open, eyebrows inching higher and higher thelonger he looks.

“Are…you…kidding…me?”

He throws his hands up, balled into fists, andhits the machine again.

Nothing happens.

“Come on! No!” Yamada begs. “No, just give methe cookies!”

He hits the glass again, but this time with abit less energy.

“No…” Yamada says, voice getting softer.

He uncurls his hands, laying his palms flatagainst the window. He leans his head forward until his forehead is pressedagainst it too.

“Can’t I just have this one thing?” Yamada asksquietly.

Sighing, he turns around, presses his backagainst the glass front of the busted machine, and slowly slides down it untilhis butt hits the floor. He pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his armsaround them.

Everything Nakano had said made sense.

All of it made perfect sense.

She was right.

She was right, which was exactly why it all feltso wrong.

It was why it was so hard to accept.

Yamada knew when he’d left the house that nightplanning to have this conversation, that there was no way Nakano was going tosay, sure, and hand over the adoptionpapers just like that. He knew there would be weeks, maybe months, of waitingbefore Eri would be ready to go anywhere.

Nakano had said there was hope. She’d said toput a pause on the conversation, as in they could pick it up later, when thingsgot better, when Eri was in control. Yamada knows these are the things heshould be focusing on.

Except she’d also said that with Eri’s quirk,she couldn’t safely be sent to live with anyone and this was the only sentencethat was running through his head on repeat.

Yamada and Aizawa were included in thatstatement.

He pulls his legs up tighter and rests his chin againsthis knees. It’s hard to breathe like this, but he doesn’t care. Thinking feelsa little bit easier like this.

Somewhere along the lines, it had happened.Maybe it was while watching Aizawa tuck strands of her long hair behind herear, or when Yamada taught her how to do a braid. It could have been whenAizawa fell asleep on the hospital chair holding her hand in one of his andYamada’s hand in his other. Equally as likely, was when Yamada sang littlelullabies to the both of them.

Whatever it was, somewhere along the lines ithad happened.

It had only been a few weeks, but it hadhappened.

Yamada wanted this more than he could everadmit.

He’d written it off long ago, not having thetime or right mindset, believing he wasn’t really equipped for the job nomatter how much he loved helping little kids. Aizawa and he were far too busywith work and, in his mind, had seen far too much fucked up shit to ever begood enough for it, so…he hadn’t considered this role.

Until now.

Until he was told he couldn’t have it, thisthing he wanted.

Yamada bites his lip and wills his eyes to notwater.

He wanted to be a dad.

Yamada groans and throws his head back infrustration, forgetting the vending machine is right there, and smackingagainst it. He reaches up to rub the back of his now aching head at the sametime as he hears rustling and then two distinct thuds behind him.

He turns around a bit and looks up to where thecookie bags had been pressed against the glass, but they’re now missing. Yamadashifts so he can stuff his hand under the flap and lets out a shocked laughwhen he pulls the cookies out.

“Wow,” Yamada laughs. “Wow, okay. What is this?”he asks looking up, holding the bag of cookies above his head like the flimsydrop ceiling is the amalgamation of all the karmic forces in the world. “Isthis a lesson? Good things come to those who wait?”

He lowers the cookies back down slowly, droppingthem on the floor beside his hip.

“No,” he says, closing his eyes, thinking abouthow his head hitting the machine had caused the treats to fall. He made ithappen. His actions brought about the results. “Maybe it’s something more like,you can’t get what you want without trying?” he asks, looking back up at theceiling, then back down to the cookies by his hip. “Not without trying…”

—

Yamada walks back into Eri’s room and seesAizawa is already snoozing in his chair, head falling forward, his chinpractically touching his chest. If he hadn’t left his capture weapon at home,his face would probably be buried in it.

Yamada smiles down at his husband as heapproaches the bed, shaking the two bags of cookies to show his prize to Eri,whose eyes get pretty darn big at the sight of the second bag.

“Wow!” she says. “That’s a lot!”

“Yeah, I accidentally got two,” Yamada laughs.Okay, so it wasn’t an accident per say, but he certainly hadn’t planned on itin the beginning. “I figured we can eat the second bag later in the week.”

Eri’s little pout at the news makes Yamadasmile. Pouting was good, children were supposed to pout. Children were supposedto want to eat two bags of cookies for dessert.

This was good.

This was progress.

Yamada walks quietly around Aizawa’s chair tothe seat next to him, brushing his fingers over the back of his husband’s neckon the way by. Aizawa shivers a tiny bit at the touch, but doesn’t stirfurther.

Taking his seat, Yamada nods his head towardAizawa, saying, “Looks like someone is done for the night, huh?”

Eri gives him a timid attempt at a smile.

It’s okay, he’ll take it.

It’s enough.

They’d learned to be very patient these past fewweeks. He supposes, now, that he should have applied those skills in hisconversation with Nakano.

Yamada scoots his chair a bit closer to the bedand tears open the cookie bag, offering one of the mini snacks to Eri. Shetakes the cookie from him and pops it into her mouth, closing her eyes to enjoythe sweet treat. A genuine smile blooms on her face.

“Is it good?” he asks, knowing the answer. Shenods happily.

“I’m glad,” Yamada says, getting a cookie fromthe bag for himself.

They eat in silence for a few minutes, just thehappy noise of crumbling hard cookies, the occasional crumple of the bag asanother hand dips inside it, and the small, soft snores of Aizawa filling thevoid of speech. It’s peaceful. Eri seems relaxed now that Nakano is gone and nodoctors have asked her how she’s feeling in a number of hours. Yamada wasbecoming rather good at telling when she was on guard. She’d often keep herlegs and arms tucked close to her body, her chin tilted down, and most of herhair falling over her shoulders. He’d often use his own long hair as a barrier,so she definitely wasn’t fooling him when she did the same.

Now, though, her hair was brushed over hershoulders, her head held higher, and her body turned mostly toward Yamada.

He hopes that the conversation he’s about tohave with her won’t ruin the tentatively relaxed atmosphere that has beencreated in the room.

When Eri finishes the cookie she’s munching on,he starts.

“Hey,” Yamada says. Eri looks at him, her bigred eyes questioning. “Can I ask you something?”

He immediately regrets his choice of words, asthe corners of Eri’s mouth droop down a fraction of an inch.

“It won’t be bad!” Yamada says, trying to stopthe shift in mood. “It’s just a couple of things I’m curious about…”

Eri doesn’t react.

“Uh…” Yamada rubs the back of his neck and looksover at Aizawa, who is still sleeping soundly in his chair. “Look…Eri…thisis whole situation is very difficult for you, and probably very confusing, andI’m sorry you have to go through so much. I’m sorry we keep asking you thingsyou don’t have the answers to. I’m sure you’re sick of the tests and questionsand this room…” Yamada trails off, gesturing to the too bright, white walls andtile and equipment. Eri’s eyes follow his hand, taking in her location as hespeaks.

“I’m sorry. I want this to end too. We all wantto help you, that’s why everyone is here, trying so hard,” he says. She nodsalong with him. This, he knows she’s aware of. She’d thanked everyone manytimes for helping her. She is not mean to anyone. She’s shown nothing butgratitude, but still, any kid had to be sick of being in the hospital.Although, compared to her previous situation, he supposes this would seem muchbetter.

“Eri,” Yamada starts again. “What do youwant…when you leave here? What would you like to happen? Where would you liketo go?”

Eri frowns, her eyebrows pulled together. She tiltsher head to the side before shaking it back and forth.

“You don’t understand?” he asks. Of course not,why would he expect her to? How was she supposed to answer something like that?She probably didn’t even know what kind of possibilities there were for her.

“You can’t go back to your grandpa,” Yamadasays. Eri’s eyes widen a little, but she doesn’t look too disappointed. He figuresshe’s probably well aware that wasn’t an option.

“Do you know what adoption means?” he asks. Erinods her head, but there’s some hesitation. He tries as best he can to explainit in simple terms. “Sometimes, when kids don’t have parents to take care ofthem, people will take them into their homes and be their new parents. Theylove them and raise them as if they were their kids.”

Ideally, anyway, he thinks, trying to shake off the image of Eri being passedbetween numerous foster homes.

Eri nods along.

“That’s probably what will happen with you,Eri.”

I hope that’s whathappenswith you, Eri.

Yamada watches Eri carefully, but she’s verygood at keeping a neutral expression, albeit, that neutral expression lookspretty small and scared most of the time. Now, though, she looks away from himand down to her hands, folded in her lap.

“If…” Yamada starts, but hesitates. He bites theinside of his lip and feels his leg muscles tightening up, itching to start hisnervous tapping tic, but tries to keep his foot from lifting off the ground.‘If’ wasn’t the right word. No, he needed to have confidence in this future ifhe wanted it to become real. He needed to have confidence in Eri’s abilities.“When you get your strength back and your quirk…when you can control yourpower…someday you’ll be able to leave the hospital.”

Eri looks up from her lap, turning to look athim. She doesn’t say anything, but her eyes are a little wider, a little morehopeful.

“When that happens,” he says. “You’ll be up foradoption. Nakano will make sure that a very nice family, who you approve of,will take care of you. They’ll be your parents. Eri…Eri I was wondering…”Yamada looks away now, over at Aizawa. “How would you feel if those people wereAizawa and I?”

He closes his eyes for a few seconds, beforeturning back to look at her, nervous for her reaction. It’s clearly anunnecessary feeling, however, as when he opens his eyes, he sees Eri, wideeyed, mouth open in shock, staring at him. She looks quickly to Aizawa, stillcompletely unaware, then back to him.

“Eri?” Yamada asks.

Eri pushes herself up onto her knees andshuffles across the bed toward him, sitting closer. She reaches out her handand grabs the sleeve of his jacket. He’s surprised how tight her grip is, thefabric bunching up around her fist.

“Yes,” Eri says. Her tone is strong, unwavering.“Yes, I…I…want that. I want that. I want to live with you and Aizawa-san.”Yamada feels the grin burst onto his face, not only does she want them to beher parents, but she’d expressed that she wanted something.

“Is that…is that okay?” Eri asks, her griploosening on his jacket. Yamada quickly places his hand over hers before shecan pull it away, retreating entirely. Her eyes snap up to his.

“Of course it’s okay,” he insists. “I wouldn’thave asked if I didn’t want to offer. Eri, please don’t think you’d be abother. Please don’t think that. We want to help you, we want you to be part ofour family. Shouta and I have been talking about this for a while now. You’re agood person, Eri. I know that the precepts told you things…made you thinkthat you could only hurt people, but they’re wrong. You’ve made Shouta and Ismile so much since being here. I’m always so happy to come eat dinner withboth of you, to make pinwheels and share cookies and play games. I would bevery happy to be your father, Eri.”

Eri’s other hand finds its way atop his, smalland gentle, shaking a bit. Her lower lip is trembling and her eyes are glossingover. Yamada isn’t surprised when she starts to cry. He pulls his hand out fromunder hers to open his arms up, offering her a hug if she wants it. She scootsforward again, holding her hands out toward his chest, and sometimes Yamadaforgets she’s so young, but with her hands reaching toward him, she looks somuch like a toddler asking for someone to pick them up.

He grabs her under arms and pulls her off thebed and into his lap, where she buries her face and hands in his shirt. Heholds her tight and smoothes her hair with his hand, rocking her a bit.

“I want that, too,” Eri says around herhiccuping sobs. “Me too…I want that too…I want to spend more time with youand Aizawa-san. I want…I want…somewhere to go to…not like with papa…”

“Okay,” Yamada says gently, rubbing her back.“Then I’ll do everything I can to make it happen. We’ll keep you safe, Eri. Itwill be okay.”

Yamada rocks her back and forth slowly in hischair for a while until she stops crying. Eventually, she falls asleep pressedinto his chest, her hands going slack and falling to her lap.

All he can think about is what if he’d justpromised something he can’t make good on?

As he lifts Eri up slowly, placing her back onthe hospital bed, and covering her with the sheets, he thinks about how muchmore this will all hurt if Aizawa and he really can’t adopt her. He tries topicture someone else cradling her in their arms, easing her pain, stopping hercries, and it hurts.

Last week, on a rare night when Aizawa and hewere both at their house for dinner, they’d talked about how they could maketheir study into a bedroom. Yamada had suggested moving the desk into thecorner of the living room, and Aizawa wondered if they could convert thebookcase into a headboard for a bed. 

A place for Eri to put all her books, the onesthey’d read to her.

Yamada is too caught up in his own world tonotice when Aizawa rouses from his sleep. He’s surprised when he feels armswrap around his middle, and a warm body press into his side. Aizawa’s breathtickles his neck.

“Someone is frowning,” Aizawa says.

“Ah,” Yamada replies, but his tone is quiet andhe’s not putting the usual sarcasm behind it. “Who could that be?”

“Me, now,” Aizawa says, backing off, but Yamadacatches his arms before he can fully extract them. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” Yamada starts and then quickly stopshimself. He hadn’t told Aizawa he was going to ask Nakano about the adoptionpossibilities. He hadn’t planned on telling him, either. It seemed like such afar away idea. Aizawa had tabled the conversation earlier that week when Yamadahad suggested discussing things with Nakano.

Yamada hadn’t understood at the time why Aizawawouldn’t want to ask Nakano if he wanted to adopt Eri as much as Yamada did.

Now, though, he thinks he gets it.

Aizawa sees the things he doesn’t. He sees herwhen she loses control, when she doubts herself, and when the tests go wrong.He sees how far away the finish line is.

Maybe waiting made sense, but…

But Yamada had never been a particularly patientperson.

“I talked to Nakano,” Yamada says, turning inhis seat to face Aizawa. “I asked her about what will happen with Eri after sheis discharged.”

Aizawa glances at Eri’s sleeping form, then backto Yamada. He closes his eyes and sighs.

“And? What did she say?”

“What you thought she would,” Yamada admits. Hefeels the tightness in his chest constrict further.

“Hizashi…”

Yamada shakes his head.

“Hizashi, please,” Aizawa says, taking hishands. “We don’t know what will happen tomorrow let alone what will happenweeks from now. Don’t get discouraged. If things go well…we have a good shotat this.”

“And if they don’t go well?” Yamada asks, hisvoice a whisper.

Aizawa’s grip tightens around his hands.

“Then we do what we can,” Aizawa says. “Just likewe always do.”

[http-dizzy]

Video Store (Teen! Richie Tozier x Reader) Part One

i do not own It or any of the characters or anything, just my writing 

word count: 1,255

warnings: some sad stuff i guess? swearing 

a/n: REQUESTS ARE OPEN please i need some material 

       The junior year of high school was your bitch. You were going to do everything in your power to make it yours. After the traumatic summer that plagued you and your friends, It was going to be the year everything started to get better. Of course the countless sleepless nights brought upon by the pennywise incidents had not faded away, you and the others began to block the memories out as if it was all a bad dream.They didn’t discuss it much; brushing it off their shoulders. However, you knew everyone was thinking. They didn’t think about it as a singular thought at once, no, but that idea, the thought was always there. You knew it was their during long periods of silence between the losers club, whether it was all of them or just you and another. Present in the mind at all times. The trauma of the horror the group went through together was to great to forget, but enough to scar everyone to the point where they at least try to, but in the end, fail miserably. But like i said, this was the year everything was starting to get better. 

        You began working at your mom’s friend Jim’s video store after school three times a week. It became one of your favorite past times. It was never really busy and half the time your cousin, beverly, stopped in the hang out with you. Those hours you spent there were your favorite, not wanting to return to the isolation of your small house. Your mother was always away on business or with her boyfriend, leaving you by yourself for days, weeks, even a month sometimes. It had been like this for years. Originally living in Chicago, you moved here after your father passed away in the fifth grade, leaving you with just your mom. Your mother, however figured she’d move back to her childhood home where there was at least some family left, even though she wasn’t on greatest terms with her brother. She was at least grateful you had beverly, someone else of blood relation that you could rely on besides her. And it worked, to the point you barely had a relationship with your mom. She came home for three days at the most and she’d leave.

          On the brightside, your house became a popular hangout spot for the losers for tiny gatherings and parties where’d you all get drunk with cheap beer and pink floyd’s lyrics seeping through the house out of the speaker of the record player. Polaroids would scatter the table, soon to be neatly placed in a scrapbook kept up in your bedroom. It was always a good time. Beverly would stay over for days on end sometimes, keeping you company while simultaneously trying to escape her dad. That was until he croaked and my mom gained custody of her. Then she officially became roommates  She was your best friend, and you were hers. She had become your only true family and the losers club your makeshift one.

        It was an October thursday. Overcast and  miserable outside, you sat with your feet propped up on the counter of the video store dreading the long walk home you’d have to endure in an hour after shop closes. Distracting yourself from the boredom, you focused in on a small tv that rested on the counter. A highlight to the movie store was the unlimited amount of hours of free movies all the time 24/7. Movies were amazing. A highlight to the boredom of the world. The emptiness of the video store broke once the familiar bell of the door being opened rang. 

“Whats up, Molly Ringwald”

“I swear to god, you sound more and like Richie everyday,” Beverly Laughed, taking a seat next to you behind the counter, “Whatcha watchin’?”

 “‘Sixteen Candles’ ironically. It’s really pretty good though. Definitely has entertained me.” you replied and she nodded as her ginger hair bounced with her head as she looked at the screen

“The video store so dead for such a sucky day. Id expect a lot more people to come and get a vhs”

“Right. I dont care, less people to deal with. Where’s the boys at anyways?”“Up to no good I bet,” a snicker erupted from both of you in agreeance, “they’re probably teasing Eddie or running around town doing something.”

The boys were always up to something. Whether it was pushing each other from the quarry edge or running around the drive in.  They all become so close through the years, as well as Beverly and I partaking  in it the rambunctious endeavors. 

“Speaking of the boys..” She began, “I-”

“..am getting married to Bill and you want me to be the maid of honor? Aw what can i say Bev, that’s so sweet- Ow!” You cut her off until she rammed her fist into your arm.

“So i heard from a little bird that maybe Richie has a thing for you” The words escaped her lips as a smile formed across her features. You easy going aurora faded into a more serious-shocked persona as your cheeks became redder than the roses growing in the garden next door. “As if..” you stammered, your wide eyes going to your hands in your lap. 

“All of us can tell you like each other, you’ve liked each other for like ever, (y/n)” She almost coed, trying to convince you of what you described as an absurd idea. You had developed a crush on him that grew over time. From his brain, to his heart and his stupid yet charming sense of humor, you began to fall for the silly teen. Puberty didn’t help with your girly crush, for Richie had in a sense, glowed up. He had gotten a lot taller, and his fashion sense seemed to resemble Duckie Dale from ‘Pretty in Pink.’ Richie was the closest to (y/n) of all the rest of the guys in the group. Every since the chance encounter at the drug store when Ben was attacked by Henry Bowers, they began to talk more and even eventually hang out together. Leading to constant trips to the arcade where he teaches you to play street fighter and walking to the corner to get cokes and candy. Besides Beverly, Richie played an important part in her life. Not only did she like the raven haired boy, he was her best friend along with Bev. 

 “It seems like you two are the only ones who don’t know you like each other” she continued “I dont know bev..-” that was until you were cut off by the front door bell ring and a familiar face showed.

 “Speak of the devil!” Beverly whisper yelled to you as the tables turned and you were the one smacking you hand into her arm. Richie showed through the door and a wide grin appeared across his face.

 “Hey ladies” he attempted a smooth entrance, sliding into the counter leaning in. Beverly shot up from the seat next to you and confusion drew all over your face as you stared up at her. “I gotta go, i’m not feeling so good,” She lied miserably, “I’ll see you at home (y/n)! Nice to see you Richie!” She exited quickly almost throwing herself out of the door, leaving just the two of you. “Whats up, Richie” you attempted to cooly but to you dismay your face heated up to the noticeable red 

“What are you doing tonight? I want to take you out.”

part 2????

[fan-clan-fun]

Skyclan Reborn Chapter 2: Home is where your nest is

The sky was streaked with pale pink blue, signaling the coming dawn when they awakened, uncurling from each other. Sky was eager to set out, tail twitching restlessly as he waited for his mate to finish making dirt.

She  came back around the corner and rubbed up under his chin. “So, where are we going?” she said.

He froze. Oh, right, he probably needed to know that. “Uhhh…” he trailed off, embarrassed. “Maybe to the dawn side of the city? No, wait. We should go just outside the city. More prey and less competition!”

Shiloh purred in agreement. “Sounds like a good option. Only problem is I don't know much about that area, and some of the city cats might find it difficult to navigate and hunt there.”

Sky had already started off towards the corner before she had finished.  “That's okay,” he said as they paused to check a nearby road before crossing. “We haven't figured out the boundaries yet, so we will all have to learn the area.”

They crossed the road and many others like it, until they reached the edge of the city. There was a four lane road ahead of them, more dangerous than the normal  ones. Cars were far faster on this one than others, and it was busier.  They had to wait a long while, and took it in two parts, resting in the middle before finally passing over the last two lanes.

Once they got to the other side, and were met with the quietness of the upward sloping forest, they were able to speak again.

“I think that road would be a good dusk side boundary.” Sky commented. His white and gray pelt was a stark contrast against the dark green and brown shadowed undergrowth. High above them the tops of oaks and maples crowded together, while smaller trees grew in patches of rare sunlight. Actual ground plants like ferns and bushes were thick and jumbled, but the two cats managed to pick their way through them on paths worn into the earth by large prey animals.

For Sky it was a land of wonder, and although he had not been back in the area for many moons, he was able to point out with his tail several landmarks which Shiloh could use to guide herself out and down back to the city. He was glad then for those few moons of misspent energy as a youth, trying to live out the fantasies of his grandmother's stories. Now he would be fulfilling them after all.

In his contemplation and excitement, he realised he had gotten several tail lengths ahead of his mate. He was about to turn back to wait for her when an unsuspecting mouse ran right over his paws. On instinct he lashed out, and although it was a poorly aimed strike, it knocked the mouse off balance long enough for him to finish it off. With a smirk, Sky wheeled around with the mouse in his jaws to deposit it at his mate's paws.

Shiloh looked him up and down, whiskers twitching with amusement. “I was about to ask where that abundance of prey was, but I see the question answered itself.” She looked down at it curiously. “You caught that quite easily. I guess these prey creatures are not accustomed to equating our scent with danger. That will be useful.” She munched on it quickly, not wanting to disrupt their journey.

They followed the line of the ridge, up into the mountains, until reached small break which led into a valley. Their side had a steep sharp incline, and although they heard it, they nearly stumbled upon the stream rushing at the bottom of the valley because of how dense the foliage was. At this point in the valley, the stream was choked in on both sides by steep banks, and the water was deep, rushing with a dark undercurrent. Sky glanced over at Shiloh with a question in his eye, and she returned with a shake of her head. Not a safe camp. They followed the stream in its roundabout way, which at first seemed to go closer to the city and then veered off. The steep walls tapered down to a smoother area and the stream split off into another valley junction. But there the trees were too sparse, the cover not good, and there were even traces of humans and firepits. They continued on.

By the time they finally found something it was mid-day, and hot. They had been dipping their paws occasionally in the water when they needed to cross, and were partially in the water when they came around a bend. The little area was breathtaking, with shallow quick moving water and little islands of grass and stone. One bank was a nicely forested area with massive rhododendron bushes dipping into the water. The other side was a broken cliff face, which looked to be the remains of some old waterfall. At the base, the water had eroded the rock, and even in one spot there was enough space that bushes grew from the water to the craggy broken stone. Several secluded niches were visible, and Sky headed towards one, fascinated. Shiloh followed, choosing her paw holds with the utmost care as she crossed the stream.

“This looks perfect!” Sky said, rummaging through the bushes around the stone face.  It was a struggle for him to focus, every movement and flash of color stimulating his senses and catching his attention.  He heard Shiloh pass nearby with a scrabble of claws and pebbles. She called out to him, “Love? Come here real quick.”

He obliged, scrambling further up the stony bank to meet his mate at a jagged crack in the wall face. The tortie she-cat, pelt sparkling like ripples on water from the sun on her pelt, scraped at the wall, dislodging pebbles and dirt and widening the hole. Sky tried to help but she turned and just stared at him until he backed off, tail flicking back and forth silently. No one messed with a pregnant she-cat when she was determined to do something. Instead Sky just watched, occasionally turning his gaze back over the little stream.

It wasnt long before the hole was big enough to squeeze into, and Sky immediately recognized that Shiloh had been looking for a den, a safe place to build a nest for kitting. The thought made him a little skittish. She couldnt possibly be kitting yet! His mate squirmed into the hole, and he followed nervously, opening his mouth to see if he could detect any changes in her scent.When he pushed through, he found a smooth moss covered cave, high enough he could stretch paw-tip to paw-tip and just barely reach the top, with enough floor area for three or so sprawled cats. Besides the entrance they had just dug, he could see a few areas with cracks in the mostly earth outer walls, sheltered from the outside by roots and rhododendron leaves. It was virtually invisible.

“Perfect.” The word was slightly breathless coming from the heavily pregnant she-cat, and Sky caught her subconsciously kneading the ground a little, as if to test it. She noticed his smug look and immediately her ears went sideways and eyes narrowed. “Dont be too pleased with yourself. If we are to sleep here, we should find something to make a nest.” Sky almost protested something about mothers making their own kitting nests when she cut him off. “No, that would be unwise, you might get lost or trip into the stream because you are so distracted by everything.” Sky drooped, but didnt deny  it. He didnt have the best track record of staying focused.

Instead he purred warmly, hesitantly rubbing against her, “Its Sunhigh anyway, lets rest til dusk, and then we can find some prey for our bellies, and you can find some material to use in the nest.” Sky was glad that instead of stiffening and listening to her instincts, Shiloh returned his purr and gave his jaw a lick.

“Sounds like a good compromise.” She murmured.

They settled then, cuddled together, alternating between grooming the other and dozing in the pleasant little cave.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Didnt Know Why

Summary- Curtis x Y/N. Just a moment on the train, no warnings. 

Word Count- 1.3k 

A/N- Just writing, trying to just think and this is the result. I wasnt going to post, cause I personally dont care for it, I know I can do better, but hey, maybe someone will read it and enjoy. 

He was one of the lucky ones.

He wouldnt deny it, after a day of breaking up ill tempered people from nearly killing each other, multiple times someone would come pull him from Gilliams to help settle a dispute. It was just getting worst with people going on edge, knowing that the plan was going to be happening soon. By the time he had enough, sporting a few new scrapes and bruises from getting caught in the crossfire, he was more then ready to just be alone with you. First he checked the medic area, but you werent there. Heading to the next obvious spot, the bunk, he saw you as he headed down the aisle. You were sitting in the aisle with Edgar, talking nonsense as he asked you questions.

"Who do you think I would have been? Out there?"

"Smart punk ass, your parents would encouraged you to read all the books, learn about the whole world and not just your corner of it. And the girls... " you wiggled your brows at him "they would have been hoping to get a ride in your car, go to the dance with you. Been at all the frat parties in college." You built up the kind of story you remember in movies, you wished you could show him something like that, he would have loved it. There were many things you wish you could have shown him. 

Edgar blushed a bit at this, but seemed mighty pleased at what you were describing. Curtis moved to sit nearby, leaning back to relax. "Probably would have met a pretty girl in college, dated, changed majors, broke up, get back together." He reached over he slid his hand against your thigh, leaving it palm side up. You weaved your fingers through his and squeezed lightly in response. You couldnt get a clear look as he was looking at Edgar, but he seemed tired. The way his body sagged forward slightly, and a roll of his shoulders to ease his tension, you wished you could take it away. For now you rested your head against his shoulder.

I dont deserve you, he thought as his thumb brushed along your hand the side of your hand, feeling how you leaned into him, all his by some stroke of luck. 

"Is that what happened with you?" Edgar questioned and Curtis shook his head. "Nah, I was 17 when I came on. Havent even gotten started yet." Your silent, none of you really got to do any of that, you could only guess from the movies. But Curtis, you knew he had an older brother before the train, mom and dad. None of them made it on. "But I remember it all well enough" Curtis continued. He tipped his face a bit, enough for you to see the split cheek. The violence was getting worst back in the tail end, keep people caged for so long, they start to loose it.

Bracing your hands against the wall, you pull yourself to a stand, holding your hands out for him. "Come on... Let me take care of you." He seemed to be about to brush it off, but his hand fell into yours instead and he rose to follow you where you wanted to go. “See you later Edgar” You excused yourself and started to lead Curtis back towards your bunk, Edgar waved goodbye, and went to find other company for the evening. 

"Its really nothing baby" Curtis replied, his hand sliding along your hip and pausing as he drew your back against his chest, breathing in against the hollow between neck and shoulder. Your head tilts feeling him, it was undeniable that you were his, your body so accustomed to his touch that instinctively you gave in. To the physical part at least. "Well then you wont mind me taking a look" you sigh when he traces your ear with a light brush of whispers from his lips. "Of course Babygirl." 

You were one of the few he would give anything to, cause you chose him. He would spend a lifetime loving you. 

Approaching, for once your section of the car seemed quiet, a few people rolled in there bunks out of view as they were passing, but the majority of people seemed to be at the other end. Although it wasnt silent, you couldnt help but feel like it was close enough. Curtis wrapped his arms around your waist now, with a distinct purpose and lifted you inside. You shifted over and whispered as he came in “Where is everyone?” On your knees, you move over closer to him and move the curtain enough to light up your area, tipping Curtis head to look at his cut. “Down by Gilliams mostly, people are getting involved, they are ready. Tired of the confinement.” 

“Do I even want to know what happened this time?” You ask softly as you pull back to look through the little bit of stuff you started storing in your bunk. Normally you wouldnt, but every now and then Curtis would come sporting a cut, scrape something. And you got sick of convincing him to go to the medic area. No, it was easiest to treat him here, also he would relax more, you put it to being at “home” for him. As you dabbled water from a bottle you kept, moistening a rag, he shrugged out of his jackets, parting his thighs so you could kneel between them, dabbing his face clean of dried blood and dirt. 

You both knew he could do this himself, but it was calming to both of you to let you do it. His hands smoothed along your sides, “Eh, nothing that was serious, I just happened to catch the fly away fists of Greg” You hummed softly in disagreement, not so much that his split cheek was nothing serious, it was already scabbing over and a healthy pink now that you got it cleaned up. But that it was nothing in general. 

Setting the rag aside, and you sat back on your heels “Its nothing? People are already at each others throats. And it hasnt even started, not really. You guys are just starting to gather supplies.” He reached to tug you in close, you leaning against his chest and he unfolded your legs so they went cross ways over his. This was what he had been waiting for all day, and he dropped his head to kiss your shoulder, your hand moving to rub against his chest. “I know, I know that its getting worst. Just walking around with Gilliam today talking to groups about what were doing, I could see the tension and eagerness for the fight.” 

A silence fell over the two of you, and you twisted the top half your body to wrap your arms around his neck and tress in close, his hands moved slowly as they soothed up and down your back, and wrapping them around you to. He didnt know how he gotten this, his very own girl who stayed with him willingly. You knew most of his darkest moments, and you never shied away knowing the truth, trusted him.

You told him, showed him almost daily, cared, loved him. You told him why, but it still was a mystery to the man. The ways you would cry out his name as if it was the only one you knew when he was loving you, seek him out when there was something you needed ideas and opinions on. When you were busy with others, and yet you would still lift your head, catch eyes and give a wink ‘Hey handsome, I see you over there’. Those moments you would lean into him slightly when he needed to regain control of himself, the anger bubbling just under his skin at some situation they should have never had to be in. Moments like now, when you simply wrapped yourself around him

Curtis didnt know why, but he wasnt willing to ever let you go.