#especially to peer over my shoulder to look at what Im cooking

[livingemkayde]

in plain sight

joel miller x f!reader (post outbreak) | 2.8k

↳ warnings: lets see what were cooking with today team, this is rated for 18+ only! minors, please do not interact. smut, unprotected pinv, joel is kinda creepy (!) but in a fun way!? public / visible undressing, idk if this counts as it but like voyeurism?? or exhibitionism? idk im not too versed with my -isms. no use of y/n. let me know if i forgot anything.

↳ a /n: heres a little short (ish) one shot because i have COVID and i am SAD!!! joel is literally peeping tom 😭. idk where this came from, and i will not be giving an explanation at this time! thanks for reading and supporting, as always, inbox is sooo open and i love you all.

if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!

“I saw you,” you start, but his hand comes up to grip your jaw gently, angling your face to meet his. It’s a little harder to talk, “in the window,” you mumble.  “You should close your blinds.”  “You should mind your business.” Your hand slips to rest against his chest.  “You really want me to?” his lips brush your ear, “You came over here to tell me that?” His thumb brushes over your breast through the cotton of your shirt. You moan, quietly. If he wasn’t so close he might’ve not been able to hear. But he does, and it spurs him on further.  “Hm?” he slots your body between his legs.  You shake your head.

He can see you—through the window. 

You weren’t sure at first. He’s new in town, took the place next to yours. But it was a peering, sneaking feeling following you around your room. Especially in that limbo between dinner and midnight. When you get especially restless and the yellow light emanating from your room is highlighted against the blueish black sky. 

You knew it was something, an unvoiced feeling that made you keep your mouth shut. But it didn’t will you to shut your blinds. It wasn’t creepy—it excited you. Maybe some sick part of you changes in front of the window just for him. 

So when you had caught him—two nights ago. It only spurred you on further. 

You got caught in the rain, sprinting upstairs and stripping down to your underwear. You didn’t even think he was home. Maybe that’s why you didn’t close your blinds before shedding your clothes—or maybe it was something else entirely. 

The soaked cotton of your t-shirt plopped down onto the hardwood. You stepped out of your jeans, turning your back to the window subconsciously. And when you reached around your own back to unclasp your bra, you felt it—that peering gaze. 

Delicate fingers undid the clasp and as you pulled the straps off your body, you looked over your shoulder, hitching your chin to the side. 

And you saw him, standing at his window. He had a cup of something in his hand, a tight fist wrapped around it. The soft rays of sunlight pushed a heavy glare over his body but you could see his face—a deer in headlights. A thief, caught red handed. In a blazing offense. 

And you, equally shocked—that it really was him looking all this time—that he spent his afternoon hours peering over into your room instead of living his life in his. That the stoic, grumpy, brooding — Joel Miller — stood studying you undressing like a showgirl. 

You had gasped a little, a quick thing, and he shut his blinds just as quickly and turned away—his shadow faded into the dim light of his bedroom window. 

Truthfully, you look for him everywhere you go. At the market. In the mess hall. At the stables when you’re rounding up hay. You don't see much of him, but you look for him. Take a quick inconspicuous peak over your shoulder. A watchful eye on the entrance to the bar. A peering gaze through windows, just like he does to you. 

You look for him behind your eyelids, in those late hours of the night, when his window goes dark some time after yours floods black.

It almost seems like you’re always looking for him. 

But you never truly see him. Not really. It almost seems like he’s avoiding you. 

But it’s somewhat of a celebratory night—Tommy’s birthday. So you get all too particularly dressed up for the Tispy Bison and rush over, the feeling of Joel’s gaze two nights ago still stuck sweetly to the skin of your back. 

A set of peering brown eyes meet yours when you walk in but they look away quickly. They always look away quickly. And maybe it’s the adrenaline coursing through your veins, or the younger Miller brother waving you over, but you want to change that. If it’s your life’s mission, you want him to look at you, and never, ever, look away. 

“Happy birthday, old man,” you smile at Tommy, he pulls you into a hug, your cheek pressing tightly against the breast of his jacket. All you can feel are eyes on you—the curve of your neck, your hand resting gently on Tommy’s waist. 

“C’mon,” Tommy shakes you slightly, “not that old.”

Then he looks back at Joel in a quiet, joking kind of way. 

“Hey,” you breathe, nodding towards Joel. He clears his throat, straightens his back, wets the skin of his lips and gives you a sharp nod in return. He drops your eyes for his fingers resting on the bartop. 

“Aren’t y’all neighbors?” Tommy questions, almost confused why the air seems so — awkward. 

Joel’s eyes flick under the gaze of his question, the muscle in his jaw tightens. He shoots a quick glance at you and then back to his brother. Your palm starts to sweat where it rests on the bar. 

Neighbors. 

You stay silent to let Joel answer his brother, but he fails, landing a defeated fist gently on the table, and turning away from the two of you, towards the bartender. Tommy’s eyebrows furrow. 

“Yeah,” you jump in, nod, smile, deflect, “We are.”

“Tommy!” A rowdy group of men pull Tommy backwards into the forming circle. Happy Birthdays are exchanged following many claps on the back. They stagger away into the background noise. 

Only Joel and you are left. 

You wave down the bartender.

“I’ll have whatever he’s having,” you say, nodding towards Joel at your side. 

A sweaty man emerges from the dancefloor to order a drink at your side. He smiles at you. You ignore him. 

“You like whiskey?” Joel mumbles from your other side, bringing the glass to his lips, staring directly ahead. You study the curve of his nose. 

“Sometimes,” you slide closer across the bar towards him, away from the other guy.  

Joel’s fingers tap on the wood. Your foot hits your own bar chair to the beat of the song. Your heart beats a little faster when he sneaks a glance at you out of the corner of his eye. It’s almost like he’s waiting with bated breath — anticipating you to confront him about the events of two nights ago.

You don’t, though. Not yet, at least. 

“Y’all close?” he says, nodding back towards Tommy. 

You nurse your drink at your lips. 

“Patrol,” the whiskey burns as it goes down, “you gonna get out there soon?”

“Old man like me?” 

“Not that old,” you bite the rim of the glass, “Could probably use you out there.”

He huffs a breath through his nose, swinging the glass in his hand, “Probably.”

“You should come check it out,” you look at him through your lashes, “I need a new partner.”

Joel huffs a breath, almost downing the rest of his drink. You sneak out of your chair and move closer. 

Tommy’s group breaks into laughter from beside you. A man bumps into your back and your drink spills to the floor, sloshing around in the clear glass while you stumble a little. 

Joel’s hand reaches out to grab your hip. The warm callousness of his thumb notches against that soft skin of your side, uncovered by fabric. He grips you, his thumb, featherweight, pushing against bone, sending a heat between your legs. 

Your hand lands on his bicep.

“Sorry,” you mumble, he doesn’t take his hand away, not until you straighten your shirt and turn your body back to the bar. He grumbles a quiet apology to follow yours.

“Can I get another, please?” you ask the bartender, your cheeks heat. Your whole body does. 

The bartender places a whiskey in front of you and you grab it promptly, swinging your body towards Joel, raising your glass to him. He looks at you silently, then down to your outstretched drink in hand. 

A quiet contemplation. 

“What for?” He asks.

Your palms start to sweat and you’re worried it might fog up the new glass. The yellow lights of the bar turn his skin golden. He’s wearing that green flannel you saw him in at the window, the sleeves of it pushed over his elbows. The wired muscle of his forearms flick under the tense air. 

You’re nervous he might take this the wrong way. But like you thought earlier, you want him to look at you, and never, ever, look away. 

So you smirk at him, choose your words carefully—and decide to bite.

“New neighbors.” 

His gaze flicks to yours. His lips part, then close again, maybe shocked, maybe something else. Then he lets out something strangled, air between teeth and tongue and he huffs like he can't help it. Like he doesn’t know what to do with what you’ve given him—with what you’ve baited him with. 

New neighbors. 

His glass doesn’t meet yours, so you clink them together for him, sipping on the dark liquor with a small smile behind the rim. He clears his throat, and gatherers a staggered breath while downing the rest of his drink. 

“You like your new place, right?” you ask. 

Joel stares at you, almost scared, questioning. 

“‘S fine,” he finally says. 

“Just fine?” 

“‘S nice.” 

“I think so too,” you get closer to him and when he doesn’t back away, “big bedrooms.” 

You can see his Adam's apple bob up and down. 

“Yup,” he whispers. When you get closer, he slips a hand into your jacket, palming at your waist, spreading the broadness of his hand across your ribs. You try not to gasp. He holds you there, almost a warning. A cautionary message. A blaring stop sign.

But you were never much for listening, anyways. 

“Nice view?” you mumble, staring at his lips. 

You can feel his breath punching against your face, the hand on your ribs slides higher. 

You tilt your head, a question — in more ways than one. 

He doesn’t respond, the muscle in his jaw flicks the longer you stand there studying his face. His eyes keep flicking down to your lips—you’re worried he can feel your heartbeat when he inches closer. Some country slow song comes on, maybe the lights dim, or maybe his stare darkens — turns devilish — and it makes it seem like it does. 

“What are you doin’?” he whispers. 

“Nothing.” 

“Doesn’t look like—” he huffs a breath and looks down to your lips, “—nothin’.”

“I saw you,” you start, but his hand comes up to grip your jaw gently, angling your face to meet his. It’s a little harder to talk, “in the window,” you mumble. 

“You should close your blinds.” 

“You should mind your business.” Your hand slips to rest against his chest. 

“You really want me to?” his lips brush your ear, “You came over here to tell me that?”

His thumb brushes over your breast through the cotton of your shirt. You moan, quietly. If he wasn’t so close he might’ve not been able to hear. But he does, and it spurs him on further. 

“Hm?” he slots your body between his legs. 

You shake your head. 

“Yeah,” he whispers in your ear, already pushing you towards the entrance of the bar, “Yeah, ’s what I fuckin’ thought.” 

_

“Fuck—Joel.” 

You press the palms of your hands to glass, your own breath fogging up the pane in front of you. The skin of your cheek bites against the coldness of it, you can barely make out Joel’s reflection from behind you. 

“You like this?” he shoves your pants past your hips, “like me watchin’ ya?” 

And yes, you’re kind of surprised at how much you do. You like this. You like him watching you in those late hours of the night. Before you would retreat behind the safety of your covers and make yourself come to the thought of Joel Miller. 

He slaps your ass, and kneads it where he leaves raised red marks behind in his wake. Your tits push against the window, pebbling your nipples. It almost hurts when they’re pressed up against the glass like that. 

“Joel,” you moan, ignoring his question. 

“Put on a show f’me,” he runs his fingers through your wetness, teasing your aching clit, “every day. Fuckin’ tease.”

Your open mouth kisses the window, breathing heavy fog onto it. You push back against him but he keeps you pressed against the window with a strong hand on your back. 

You don’t know how you found yourself in Joel Miller’s bedroom, let alone his house. Somehow between now and the bar, rough words, and teasing touches managed to get you slotted between him and his bedroom window. Forced to look out towards your room—where you baited him for weeks. 

“Christ,” he mumbles, feeling your wetness, collecting it and letting his fingers disappear between your legs. Yours grasp at nothing, squeaking against the pane there, looking for something, anything to grab onto. He’s got you up against the window like a painting on a canvas, the sill framing your bodies for everyone to see. 

But he doesn’t care—that anyone could see—and that excites you more. 

You look back at him, he’s got a pained look on his face, staring down at your body bent for him. You bite your lip and hide your face between hair and glass when you hear the clink of his belt. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles, pulling himself out, groaning at the sensation, spreading you all over himself. You wait with bated breath. 

A big and rough hand hangs on the back of your neck. You can feel him notch himself against your entrance. You move your hips back to meet him, but he stops you. You’re frozen under his touch, a model, waiting to be molded however he desires. 

“You like this, angel?” he whispers. 

This—being pushed against the window, where anyone can see, like how he saw you, all those nights, all those times before. 

Yes, hell yes, you do. 

“Yeah,” you whimper, he presses your head into the window further, you squirm in anticipation. His rough hand tangles between hair. The tip of his cock almost pushes into your cunt. 

“You do it for me?” 

It—undressing in front of the window, pacing around in your underwear, framed by the golden light escaping from the glass, never shutting your blinds, just for him. 

You’d be kidding yourself if you said no. 

“Yes,” you whisper in a hoarse voice—then suddenly, his fingers drop from your head. 

Joel slides in, slowly. Pushing past your tightening walls, your hand pounds a heavy fist into the windowpane and the glass shakes under the pressure. When his hips are flush with yours, he waits. 

“Pretty,” he mumbles into your hair and you freeze. 

You don’t say anything, still panting against the window, “Always—” he pulls out, and thrusts back in, setting an agonizingly slow pace, “—pretty.”  

You tense around him, whimpering. Your forehead ducks down and lands against the glass with a thud. 

“Wanted you to—ngh—” you moan. His hand braces against the window and you hold on to it, grabbing at it aimlessly. He slides his fingers between yours. “—wanted you to see me,” you admit.  

“I know,” he drawls, “I know, baby.” 

His pace is slow at first, gentle. But it speeds up into something deafening. Your body pushes up against the glass with each thrust of his hips. He grabs at your hair, holds your hand, and kisses your neck through it all. 

Joel wraps his arms around your waist when he feels you going numb. 

“C’mon,” he whispers, “doin’ good. So—fuck—so good.” 

The angle is deeper, sharper—he’s bigger than what you’re used to. You bite your lip in favor of screaming. 

He hits something inside you and his breath snags somewhere deep in his throat, pushing grunts out into the crown of your hair. 

It’s obscene. The gesture. All of it. The throb between your legs comes to a splitting pitch, your breath sharp and cutting just like his. Your head spins, panting through fuzzy vision. His words go straight to your core. The thought that if someone were to walk by and happen to look up, they’d see you—how he’s got you pressed up against glass like an exhibit. 

“Joel—” you yelp, he cuts you off, playing with your clit, pushing you over that thin edge. Your muscles choke his cock, turning to putty in his hands as you whine his name, crying out so the glass echoes it back to you. 

He bites down onto the bare skin where your neck meets your shoulder. Leaving behind marks that you’ll see for days to come. Not that you mind. You reach back, crumple up cotton into your fists and feel his wired muscles flex under your palm. 

“Fuck, angel,” he groans, you spin around to kiss him, and swallow his moans with your own. Teeth and tongue and whimpers to go with the rest of them. 

His hips stutter into yours, you push against him, bordering on the edge of too much but when his breath stalls from above you and his hand holding yours goes tight, you finally relax. He spills into you, you feel his cock pulse from somewhere deep inside you. 

His head rests against the back of your neck for what seems like forever, you can feel his hot mouth trail kisses down your back until you both laugh and he finally slips out of you and lets you turn around. 

He kisses you. Really kisses you. And when he pulls back, he sighs. Pushing out air between his parted lips, like he doesn’t really know what to do now. But he looks at you. And keeps looking at you, even when you think he might break your gaze. 

Looking at you, and never, ever, looking away. 

_

[marimariposaposa]

unspoken confessions | pedri gonzález

pairing: bf!pedri x fem!reader

content: flufff, mentions of sex and pregnancy

word count: 1.1k

summary: everything that pedri wishes he could tell you

7:35am

he loooves your lip balm. the way it tastes, the sweet flavour of it and how it nicely enhances the act of kissing you, making your lips all the more soft and plush for his own. he loves using it, stealing it from your bed side table in the early mornings before he leaves for training while you soundly sleep next to him, having you apply it for him; your frame stood tensely concentrated in front of him, focused face when you swipe the applicator over his lips and smiling when he pouts at you jokingly. it’s even gotten to the point where his friends have noticed.

“why do your lips always look wet?” ferran asks him, football at his feet and pulling at his jersey to let the cool air circulate underneath it. “you don’t wear lip balm?” pedri raises an eyebrow and ferran laughs, “i think i’ve put it on a total of two times in the past month”

but he especially loves it when you put it on your lips, only for the sole purpose to peck his and transfer it over. you call it ‘saving product’ but the both of you know it’s just to steal a kiss, and he wants to keep it that way. sharing is caring i guess. it reminds him of you, in the way scents bring back memories—he just associates soft lips with you.

he also just loves to be in your space. it’s kind of a given—you being in a relationship and all, but he takes it to another level. he’s there when your brushing your teeth, sat on the toilet lid and watching you in the mirror, sometimes he even takes the toothbrush and moves it around your mouth for you. wanting to be in your area and admire you from as close as possible. safe to say he’s completely whipped with just your presence, your aura, your warm energy that just calms him.

he’s there when your cooking. getting all in your way as you squeeze past him to grab some more ingredients, hands placed flat on your shoulder blades when he peers over your shoulder to see what exactly your doing and leaning down to put his head on your shoulder. “you’re in my way” you whine, turning yourself around to give him a quick peck. “im helping!” he says, suddenly taking an interest in chopping the vegetable that you’ve left out on the counter, only to get you off his back. “yeah, helping to be a pain in the ass.” you scoff when he returns back to his old ways, observing your every move and hugging you from behind like some sort of teddy bear.

if you let him, he’d even sit on the edge of the bath while you peed, not wanting to stop the conversation you were having and lose his train of thought. blabbering away while his gaze focuses somewhere on a tile on the wall. same way he’d let you get on with doing your makeup in the mirror while he takes a quick pee break, talking while he peers over his shoulder. but if not, he’d stand outside of the bathroom door like a sulking little toddler and continue the conversation by shouting at the door, making sure you can hear.

something he’d never admit though (at least not until your ready) is how much you he really wants to get you pregnant. honestly it borders a breeding kink. it’s said offhandedly during sex, something small like, “im going to get you pregnant” but he’s being dead serious. just say the word and he’s there, boxers down and ready for some baby making.

it obvious he’s good with kids, there’s been multiple cases to be observed. but when he watches you do it, whether it be with a niece/nephew, a sibling or even just randomly in the street because babies seem to just be drawn to your presence it sparks something within him. something primal that urges him to populate the earth with mini hims and mini you’s.

you’re so gentle, so tenderly it warms his heart the way you let them wrap their tiny little fingers around one of yours, squishing their cheeks while giggling.

even when you’re baby sitting, rushing around the house with a friend’s child latched onto your hip and a phone attached to your ear to chat mindlessly to a friend while you clean, he can’t help but imagine that to be your child. together. a child that has equal parts of you and of him, to see your personality in them in the way they would protest waking up in the mornings—like you always do.

that’s why your late night chats about how many kids you guys want, what their names would be are his favourite parts of the day, face in the crook of your neck to plant soft kisses on your skin while you giggle about your future.

pedri is also not a sharer. he is not the kind to just give his friends a bite of his food for them to taste, he can be a bit stingy in that sense.

“can i try this?” one of his friends would say, “you can try whatever you want next time we come here. im not stopping you.”

but for you…for you he’s sat at the restaurant table, taking a bite of his food then reaching it over to your mouth and waiting for you to take a bite too, awaiting your approval. he loves it. “how is it?” he asks eagerly, and you hum a delicious note, spreading a smile on his face. for you he takes sips of the same drink. he awaits earnestly whenever you order a drink from a local café, for you to let him take one sip and have that warm feeling he gets when he knows that your lips have just been around the straw. it’s childish, but he sees it as an indirect kiss. 

his friends would be shocked seeing him be unfazed when you steal a fry of his plate at lunch, jaw falling open when he even offers one to you and not immediately becoming defensive. they would discuss in the locker rooms how much he loves you, teasing him about how badly he’s been star struck.

“pedri, share some that ped-D next!” gavi pranced around the locker room in a sing-songy voice after the first brunch you had with his friends, finally introducing yourself to everyone as his girlfriend—jersey slipped over his head and over his shoulders to look like hair, or maybe a make-shift vail. who knows.

“shut up man” pedri groaned, sighing as if he was mad, but the blush spreading across his cheeks gave him away instantly.

end.

angel’s note: something differentttttt something cute. hope its ur liking!!!!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN, don’t be shy:)

[queenofimagines]

Stranger from Out of Town

Summary: Arvin had no reason to be here. After the things he’d done, he had no reason to be blessed with an angel like you. But after spending so long on the run, after spending so long looking over his shoulder, he couldn’t help but fall in love with the one person who made him feel safe. All is well and good in Arvin’s life until one determined and obsessed sheriff decides it’s time to pay Arvin a visit.

Notes: Ya’ll, this one’s a doosey but I hope you enjoy it anyways. For the purposes of this pic, Bodecker is still alive.

When Arvin woke up that morning he could feel that something was different. Arvin’s life had been flipped upside down by his own actions that had ultimately been what forced him to live his life on the run. He had spent the better part of a year running, zigzagging across the country in the hopes of shaking the authorities off; first traveling down to Georgia, then up to Iowa, then back down towards Texas and so on before finally finding permanent resident. Arvin knew what the rest of his life would look like from here on out. He understood that he would spend the rest of his time on God’s green Earth looking over his shoulder and never finding the quiet life he longed for. Arvin knew that he was cursed, from the moment his mother had died he had been plagued with loss and he was sure he was one of the unlucky souls who had come to be the Devil’s plaything. Arvin had expected that his life would forever be riddled with rot and chaos, damned to suffer through conflict after conflict after conflict. But when Arvin opened his eyes today to the sun streaming in through window and the sound of bacon sizzling coming from the kitchen, he finally understood what it felt like to be at peace.

Arvin swung his legs over the side of the bed, hauling himself up and making his way down the hall. His steps were heavy with sleep, shuffling against the floor loud enough to alert the person in the kitchen to his presence. As Arvin drew closer, he began to hear the hum of a song that was unfamiliar to him, just barely covered by the sound of someone flipping an egg, prompting him to hurry his steps to arrive at the delicious smell and the lovely voice that had almost lulled him back to sleep where he stood. Rounding the corner, Arvin couldn’t help but grin at the sight before him. There you stood in front of the stove, still dressed in your nightgown, cooking a breakfast big enough for two. 

Two. Such a simple word with such little meaning. An insignificant word that made Arvin’s heart swell with delight. It wasn’t just him anymore, alone and scared, no, now it was him and you. To Arvin, it was hope. Arvin watched as you plated the food you had prepared before turning around and flashing him an earth shattering smile. You would never know how much it meant to him, your smile, and that you were here, right now. You would never know the kind of stability you brought to him. And he planned to keep it that way, to keep you in the dark about all the things he’d done. To keep letting you believe he was just the stranger from out of town who stole your heart.

When you met Arvin, he was just a newcomer, a lost soul who had found your quaint little town practically in the middle of nowhere. He had stirred up quit a buzz when he walked into your parents’ little diner, asking if there was any place he could stay the night, but seeing as your town was so small, small enough that it could safely be left off of most maps and small enough that tourism wasn’t a main source of income, the answer was unequivocally no. Your father, who had been Arvin had the luck of plopping himself next to, informed him that the closest motel was almost a three hours drive away. Arvin remembered staring out the window, watching the last rays of light vanish, his hope along with it. It would be impossible for him to get someone to see him this late at night, let alone actually stop for him. Arvin felt like he could cry in that moment, but your mother, ever the good Christian woman, had offered to let him stay at your house until tomorrow morning. Arvin was grateful that your mother had been so kind, and in retrospect you were too, but you remembered how much you resented Arvin when your mother told you he would be staying with you. At first, you were all for it, one night with an attractive stranger from out of town in your house wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, but the next day both Arvin and your father came home in the afternoon after they had supposedly left to take Arvin to the next town over earlier that morning.

“Turns out this boy knows his way around a car,” your father had said, beaming.  He had later told your mother privately that he had offered Arvin a place to stay with your family and a smaller than average wage in exchange for his help around the shop. Your father owned the only car shop in town and was in desperate need of a new assistant, and seeing as you didn’t want anything to do with being a mechanic, your father saw Arvin as a golden opportunity, someone to possibly pass the torch to. Your mother was more than happy to let him stay, finding his handiness around the house useful, but you were less  ready to welcome him into your life. Arvin had garnered a lot of attention, especially from the female population, and most of the girls at your school would pretend to be your friend in the hopes that you would invite them over, just so they could get a glimpse at him. It only got worse when your parents had commissioned Arvin to pick you up and drop you off to school. The girls would stare, trying to get a closer look at Arvin, a few of them even having the courage to go up and talk to him. It made you sick, that attention he got and how much he seemed to enjoy it. You had convinced yourself that it was skepticism about his character, but now that you look back on it, it was nothing more than petty jealousy that bubbled in your stomach. It was stupid, really, to be jealous that a boy was giving other girl’s his attention, especially since you hadn’t seemed very keen on the idea of him even being in your town, but what you didn’t know was that it wasn’t the attention that Arvin enjoyed, it was the fact that in the people around him, in the kindness that people showed him, Arvin could see a future here; a future with you.

From the moment Arvin laid his eyes on you, he was smitten, he would even go as far as to say it was love at first sight. Arvin wouldn’t confess this to you until almost a year after you’d met when he tried to ask you to prom (with your parents’ permission, of course). It was honestly a train wreck and did not go at all how he had planned. Arvin had invited you out to the town’s gazebo, he had strung up lights as best he could and set up a nice little dinner for the two of you. He saw a figure slowly approach, thinking it was you, only to be disappointed when Susan Hall, who Arvin remembered you hated with a passion, stepped into the light and flung herself at him, telling him how sweet it was of him to do this and attempting to kiss him. You had seen the whole thing and, devastated, you ran away, Arvin chasing after you. He had caught up to you in the woods behind your parents’ property and explained what had happened, confessing that he loved you and only you. You believed him, and rightfully so, as you later found out that Susan had crashed your plans on purpose to try and steal Arvin from you.

Looking back on it now, with you leaning against his in the small house that you had bought the second you graduated high school with the little money both of you had saved up and some help from your parents, Arvin was glad he had ended up in your dreary town, no matter how complicated your relationship had been when it first started. He watched as you admired the ring on your finger, smiling at it as if you had been missing it all your life, the now empty dishes sitting in your sink waiting to be washed. It was times like this Arvin remembered why he had to keep his past life from you a secret. He loved you and often found himself wanting to tell you all about his past life. Every time you asked why he looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders Arvin wanted nothing more than to tell you everything, but Arvin loved you too much to let you go and he couldn’t bare to think of what would happen if you knew what he did.

“Darlin’, I gotta get ready for work.” He said, lips pressed against the crown of your head.

“Why don’t you call in sick today,” you suggested.

“I would but your dad would kill me.”

“You know he loves you Arvin.”

“Yeah, that’s why I don’t wanna disappoint ‘im.” With one final kiss to your head, Arvin stood up and made his way to your shared bedroom. You began to clean the dishes, not having to go into the diner until later that day. As you began cleaning the last pan in the sink, a sturdy knock came from your door.

“I’ll get it!” You yelled, hearing Arvin begin to hurry to the front door. You had opened the door just as Arvin arrived at the end of the hallway. In front of you stood a tall man with a sheriff’s badge pinned to his shirt.

“Mornin’ ma’am, my name’s Lee Bodecker,” The man said. “I’m looking for a man named Arvin Russell and I heard I might find him here.”

“Arvin?” You repeated, confusion written all over your face. You turned to look at your husband, eyebrows furrowed in a silent question. From where the sheriff stood, he couldn’t see Arvin, his figure being blocked by the door, but if he leaned ever so slightly to the left he might be able to peer into the house and see there was someone else there. You knew something was wrong, you had never seen Arvin look as scared as he did now, so without a second thought, you had gently closed the door so that your body filled the gap it created, leaning against the door frame in an attempt to feign nonchalance.

“I’m sorry, Mister, but there ain’t no Arvin Russell here. Whoever told you there was must have been misinformed.”

“You sure about that?”

“Sure as the hair on my head.”

“Oh, alright. Then may I ask who it was you called to just before you opened the door?”

“My husband.” You said after a long pause, caught off guard by the man’s question.

“Mind if I speak with him?”

“Well I don’t but I’m not sure how you’d feel about seein’ him naked. He’s takin’ a shower right now.” You began gently tapping your foot, your nerves beginning to get the better of you. You had never been all that good at lying, something about it made you feel wrong, dirty. But you needed to protect your husband, after all, it’s what he would do for you.

“Then would you mind if I waited.”

“Actually I would. I have to leave for work soon and, with all do respect, I don’t much like leaving a stranger unattended in my house.”

With a small nod and a tip of the hat, the man bid you goodbye, getting into his car and driving off. You closed the door and turned to Arvin. It was silent for a long time, you waited for Arvin to explain himself but Arvin didn’t know what to say. His worst nightmare was coming true and he was terrified that your love for him wouldn’t be strong enough to survive this.

“Arvin,” You said, as calmly as you could, not wanting to spook him or yourself anymore, though it proved a lot harder that you thought. “Why was that man at our door?”

Arvin opened his mouth as if to say something but for the life of him he couldn’t find the words. He was frustrated with himself, and from the looks of it you were getting pretty frustrated at him to.

“Arvin,” you said more firmly. “I just lied to a goddamn sheriff for you. Please, tell me what’s going on.”

Arvin took a deep breathe before explaining everything to you. He told you about Lenora, and how hung herself. About the preacher and Bodecker and about Bodecker’s sister and her crazy husband. He explained everything he had done with complete and utter honesty. And he cried, longing to reach out for you but knowing his hands were too tainted to be worthy of ever holding something as beautifully pure as you. You didn’t know what to say. On the one hand, you understood his reasoning. To you, it seemed like the people Arvin had killed had it coming. But on the other hand, your husband had killed people. It didn’t matter what the reason was, taking a person’s life was a sin, something unforgivable in the holy book. Despite your better judgement, your decision ultimately came down to this: Arvin was your husband, and you loved him.

You slowly approached Arvin’s shaking figure, gently wrapping your arms around his shoulders and threading your hands through his hair. Arvin broke down into sobs, holding you impossibly close to him as if he needed you more than the air he breathed.

“Arvin,” You said once he had stopped crying, your own tears beginning to fall as you realized that there was only one option left for you both. “Arvin, we need to go.”

“What?”

“We need to go.” He gently pulled away from you, looking into your eyes, checking to make sure he heard you correctly.

“B-but this is our home.”

“I know Arvin, but that sheriff didn’t believe a word I said and he’s gonna be asking around town for you. It won’t be long until word of what you’ve done begins to spread. We need to leave before it’s too late.”

You gently ushered Arvin towards the bedroom and told him to begin packing a bag, unaware of the figure lurking at your backdoor. Bodecker had listened in on your conversation, hearing every word you and Arvin had spoken to each other, preparing for the right moment to make himself known. It was now or never, he thought, hearing you tell Arvin to pack a bag. As quietly as possible, Bodecker broke the lock on your back door, slowly making his way towards your bedroom. The door was wide open, he could see you and Arvin darting around the room trying to find your essentials. It was almost perfect, how unaware you both were. How wrapped up you were in yourselves that you didn’t even notice a 6 foot tall man practically right in front of you. With a sadistic smile, Bodecker raised his shotgun.

You froze when you heard someone pump a shotgun behind you, whipping around to find Bodecker standing just a few feet from you, gun aimed at Arvin. Your heart was beating so hard you thought it might burst, the thought of losing Arvin only increasing the adrenaline that was currently coursing through you.

“You thought you could get away, didn’t you?” Bodecker asked.

“Please, your sister and her husband, t-they were gonna kill me I didn’t hav-”

“I don’t care! You killed my sister. My sister! You killed the only person I loved Arvin. And now, I’m gonna return the favor.” In one swift motion, Bodecker turned to point the gun at you, raising his gun higher to aim at you properly. You closed your eyes before hearing the bang of a gun. You waited, standing stock still as the terror of the situation slowly got to you, but you didn’t feel pain, instead you felt a set of hands holding your face, a voice softly telling you to open your eyes. You did as you were told, seeing Arvin in front of you, eyes frantic. You looked at the ground next to him, an unfamiliar gun next to Arvin’s foot. You came to the realization that Arvin must have used it to shoot Bodecker, your suspicion being proven correct when your eyes landed on Bodecker’s now lifeless body laying in a pool of his own blood.

“A-Arvin-” Arvin softly hushed you.

“It’s okay, you’re okay now.” Arvin pulled you closer to him, cradling your head and shielding you from the body. Soon you could hear sirens in the distance, the panic slowly rising inside of you again. You could feel Arvin begin to panic too, his breathing starting to pick up.

“H-his badge.” You said, pulling away from Arvin, scared that he would be taken away from you. “We-we need to get rid of h-his badge. A-and any identification he has. It has to look like an- like an accident”

“R-right. Right, okay, uh...” Arvin began searching Bodecker’s body, quickly finding both his badge and ID and hiding them in a small hollow under one of the floor boards where you kept your savings. You and Arvin quickly came up with a cover, agreeing to keep it simple. The police arrived not long after, conducting an interview and putting you both through due process. You told them what you and Arvin had agreed to say, that the man broke into your house and tried to rob you, but thanks to Arvin’s quick thinking, Arvin was able to get to his gun and shoot the intruder. The policemen interviewing you were  skeptical, wondering why neither of you called the police after killing the man. You blamed it on shock, saying that Arvin’s first instinct was to comfort you, the intruder did have a gun pointed at you, after all. The policemen eventually dropped the subject, seeing you begin to tear up as the adrenaline and shock of the day began to ware off. Your parents came to get you and Arvin, offering you both your old room at their house until they were able to get someone to fix your back door, an offer that the both of you readily accepted. That night you and Arvin held each other just a little bit tighter, neither one of you finding sleep to come easy.

“We can’t tell anyone what happened today.” Arvin said, rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you.

“I know.” You replied, tightly clutching onto his shirt. “I love you, Arvin.”

“I love you, too, Darlin’”

You didn’t know what would come out of tonight. You didn't know if you were making a mistake by trusting Arvin after everything he had done. You weren’t sure if you were messed up for loving a murderer or if you were right in believing that Arvin was doing good, even if it meant doing some more than questionable things. But you knew one thing, you knew you loved Arvin and that he loved you, and that you both would always protect each other, no matter the cost.

[girls-scenarios]

A Little Curiousity

Idol: Heejin (Loona)

Prompt: Guys! Can u do smth like a AU with Heejin where the reader and Heejin are POKEMON TRAINERS!!(im rly hyped about the new pokemon games!!!) Where her pokemon got lost in the woods and the reader helps her find her pokemon and decide to continue their path to the Pokemon League together!

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: I just finished playing Pokémon Shield on my Switch and I’m still super excited about it since it was so fun, so I thought I’d try my hand at this prompt! Please forgive me if my writing isn’t the greatest, it’s been a while since I’ve written anything. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!

Heejin wouldn’t normally consider herself a slow or inattentive person. After all, being a trainer had heightened her senses and made her pay more attention to her surroundings. But she had been in the middle of setting up her tent when it happened, too distracted with her full hands to react fast enough. She hadn’t even noticed Star, her Raboot, curiously approaching the tree as she focused on getting her tent up before the approaching clouds could open their floodgates.

She hadn’t noticed until the sky lit up with lightening, the ground shook with the force of the thunder, and he let out a loud squeak just as something hit the grass. At the squeak, she had turned just in time to see him dash off into the woods after a very large, very startled Skwovet, leaving her and the rest of her team to stare after him.

“Star! Stop!” She’d called after him, but it was too late. By the time she had jumped to her feet, he was gone and the skies opened, pouring a heavy rain down onto the campsite. She had only taken a moment to corral her team into the tent and tell them to stay before she ran after him, but he was already long gone.

Now she was soaked through and gasping for air, her new boots covered in thick mud as she stopped to catch her breath under a huge oak.

“Stupid Skwovet, how did it just jump out of nowhere like that?” Heejin huffed and stomped her foot as she looked around, squinting through the rain. “Star! Come here!” A distant roar answered her call and she shivered, clutching the Pokeball at her side that contained her Mubray Champion, the only companion she’d thought to bring with her in her haste. God, this was so stupid. She was going to catch a cold wandering around out here. Thankfully she’d left her backpack with her clothes at the tent so she could change when she got back.

She went to take a step forward, then froze. Her tent. Where was it again? A bit frantic, she looked around, but all the trees just looked the same, especially under the heavy rain. Gulping, she glanced back at her footprints. Would she be able to follow them back?

Half of her wanted to run back the way she’d come, but she knew that she couldn’t leave Star out there alone. Groaning, she wiped at her face with the back of her hand, swearing to herself that she was going to get a leash the next time they were in town. There was no way she was going to let this happen again. She was miserable as she started forward again, cursing everything. Stupid rain, stupid Skwovet, stupid curious Raboots, stupid woods-.

“Hey, are you okay?” The voice that came from deeper inside the woods made her jump and stop in her tracks again, her head swiveling around to try and find where it came from. “I heard you out here in the rain so I came to see if everything was alright. You’re totally soaked!”

She found herself looking to her right and watching as you stepped out of the darkness, an umbrella over your head and your eyes wide and concerned. For a moment, she was apprehensive, until she noticed that the belt around your waist was full of Pokeballs and you had a Pumpkeboo trailing after you, peeking at her from over your shoulder. Somehow, you seemed a bit familiar as well, but she couldn’t tell why. Not through the rain and the darkness that lingered in the woods at all hours of the day.

A quick glance down at herself had her feeling embarrassed and she let out a soft laugh, pushing her wet hair away from her face. “Well, I don’t know. My Raboot ran off into the woods while I was setting up camp and now I can’t find him in the downpour.”

Your frown was sympathetic as you stepped forward, close enough to cover her with your umbrella. Now that she wasn’t moving, she realized how cold she was, making her shiver again. Your frown only deepened. “You aren’t going to be able to find anything in this downpour. Why don’t you come over to my camp? It’s right back through these trees here. I’ll give you some of our curry and you can warm up by the fire while we try to figure out how to find that Raboot of yours.”

For a moment, she hesitated, before realizing that you were right. She could barely see anything and Star wasn’t going to come out from wherever he was hiding until the rain ended. “You’re right. Thank you,” she said, a grateful smile stretching over her lips as she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to conserve as much body heat as possible. “I owe you one. My name is Heejin, by the way.”

You smiled in return as you started to guide her back the way you came. “I’m (Y/N), and don’t mention it. It’s the least I can do for a fellow trainer. You’re trying to get your gym badges, aren’t you?”

With a raise of her eyebrows, she asked you how you knew, drawing a laugh from your lips.

“I’m a trainer too and I’ve seen you at the past few gyms. You always challenge right before me, so I’ve seen you fight a few times. You’re really good!”

“Oh, thank you.” Her face burnt a bit at the praise, but she was thankful for the warmth so she didn’t turn away. Instead, she studied your face, before her eyebrows raised in recognition. “That’s why you looked a bit familiar to me! I’ve definitely seen you at the gyms before. Although I guess I’ve never seen you fight,” she said sheepishly, making you laugh again.

“That’s okay, like I said, I’ve been after you, so I wasn’t expecting you to stick around and watch every round. Not while there’s still so many of us challengers. It’s nice to officially meet you though.”

“Same to you, although I wish we’d met under slightly less.... Wet conditions.”

“True. Oh, we’re here!” The trees disappeared suddenly, giving way to a small clearing just big enough for a campsite, where your other Pokémon ran over to great you. You had your tent set up and your curry cooking, and she felt her stomach grumble. It had been a long day, and even though she’d given her team berries to tide them over until dinner earlier, she hadn’t eaten in a while.

“Come over here and warm up,” you told her, guiding her under your makeshift shelter by the fire before closing your umbrella and going about filling up a plate. With a happy sigh, she leaned closer to the fire and smiled at your Vulpix as it wandered closer, sharing its warmth. As she let Champion the Mudbray out to run around with your team, you approached her with the plate. “Here, have some of this.”

The curry was spicy, and she let out a hum as she swallowed her first bite. “That’s delicious!”

“Thank you,” you said, a smile stretching over your face as you sat down and let the Vulpix climb into your lap and snuggle close. “I’m glad you like it. Most of my experience is in cooking for Pokémon, so I’m always a little worried that it might not be edible for humans.”

It was her turn to laugh before she took another bite, already feeling warmer. Before she knew it, she had already finished the plate and she felt warm inside and out, most likely thanks to the extra heat Vulpix had added to the fire. The rain had let up as well, and there was a bit of sun peeking through the clouds as the downpour turned into a tiny drizzle.

“I can’t thank you enough,” she said earnestly, “I feel a bit guilty for taking up your time,” but you waved a hand, dismissing her guilt.

“Don’t worry about it, Heejin. I’m glad I was able to help.” You looked out at the woods. “Now that you aren’t going to freeze to death and it’s no longer raining, we should start looking for your Raboot.”

Her stomach dropped and she sighed, placing her plate down and standing up. “I feel terrible for leaving him out there in the rain.”

“It’s not your fault, you couldn’t find him,” you soothed, putting Vulpix down and standing up as well. “I’m sure he was able to find shelter in plenty of time. Pokémon are animals, after all. They’re good at surviving the elements.”

“That’s true. But I still want to find him as quickly as possible.”

“Then let me help.” You whistled, getting the attention of the Pokémon. “Come on guys, let’s go find Heejin’s Raboot!” Turning back to her, you raised your eyebrows. “Does he have a name?”

“Yes, his name is Star. You don’t have to do this, you know. I don’t want to be a bother.”

“But I want to.”

Something in her heart fluttered at your words and she felt her cheeks flushing. “Oh. Well then, thank you again (Y/N). His name is Star. Hopefully he’ll come out now that’s it’s not raining as much anymore.”

The ground was still muddy, but the trickle of sunlight made it easier to say and, without the drumming of the rain, it was easier to hear all the different sounds of the forest. With Champion trotting behind her and you by her side, Heejin made her way back into the woods, calling for Star. She had to admit that having you by her side made her feel a lot better: the various sounds from other wild Pokémon didn’t scare her as much anymore. No matter what was out there, surely the two of you would be able to take it. It gave her more bravery to search, and search she did, looking anywhere she thought Star might hide.

“Star, come here! It’s not raining anymore, you can come out now!” Crouching down, she peered into another den, only to quickly back away at the sight of a sleeping Bunnelby and sigh. “Where is he? Maybe he went back to camp?” She stood and dusted off her still-damp pants, about to suggest that the two of you try to find your way back to her camp before you let out a gasp.

“Heejin, I think I found him!” At your call, she spun around to see you peering up into a short berry tree, your eyes wide. “Hey little guy, how did you get up there?”

Heejin broke into a run, clearing the short distance in no time with her heartbeat spiking in her chest. Sure enough, when she looked up she saw Star shivering and clutching at the branch he sat on, his little ears wet from the rain and his eyes quivering. “Star! Oh my god, you scared me!”

The little Raboot sniffed and glanced away, trying to look cool, but she could see him shaking. With a relieved smile, she reached up to pull him down and clutched him close to her chest. “Don’t ever do that again! I know you’re getting bigger, but what if you had run into a big wild Pokémon? Poor baby, you’re soaked through.” She quickly unzipped her coat to wrap it around him before zipping it back up, and he snuggled closer to her chest, obviously exhausted. With an affectionate, yet long-suffering sigh, she pet his little head. “I’ll cook your favorite curry when we get back, okay? It’ll warm you right back up.”

When she looked up, you were looking at her with a similar affection twinkling in your eyes, your hands in your pockets.

“Thank you so much again for finding him,” she said, shaking her head. “I should have known he’d be up in a tree looking for food.”

“How did he even get up there?” You looked back up at the branch he’d been sitting on, looking a bit incredulous. “I’ve never heard of Raboots climbing trees, that’s for sure. I just happened to look up and see a flash of red and white.”

She laughed, still softly petting his head. “He’s too adventurous for his own good. Add that to his endless energy, his speed and constant growing, and his huge appetite, and you get a Raboot with no problem getting into trees. He doesn’t climb as much as he runs and jumps.”

“Oh, that makes more sense.” Your smile returned and she felt her heart flip as your eyes met hers, the spark of affection still lingering. “I’m glad you found him. I can’t imagine how scary it is to loose a Pokémon.”

“I acted annoyed, but I was really scared,” she admitted. “I don’t know what I’d do without this little guy. He was my first Pokémon ever.”

“I can tell how close you guys are. It’s cute.” You grinned and her cheeks warmed again as she watched the sun slip in through the leaves to light up your face. It was like the universe was asking her to fall for you or something.

“I-I... Thank you?” She let out a nervous giggle, then perked up at the familiar sound of her Liepard’s call. It was somewhere close by, which meant that her camp wasn’t far away! “Champion, can you lead the way back?” He gave her a little nod of his head before she turned to smile brightly at you. “My camp is close by, why don’t I give you some potions as a thank you?”

“Oh, you don’t have to!” Your eyes widened as you waved your hands. “I just wanted to help, I didn’t want anything in return!”

“Still, I want to do something to return your kindness. I’m really glad I ran into you out here.”

Your face immediately softened at her words and you fell into step beside her, a small smile on your lips. “You know, I always wanted to approach you at the gyms, but I was too nervous.”

“Really?” Her mouth dropped open. “Why?”

“You seemed to be so good, so confident, so, um, pretty,” you blushed as you spoke, looking down at your shoes. “I was intimidated by you, honestly. But now I see that I should have approached you sooner.”

“I can’t see myself be intimidating,” she said, still shocked, before her lips turned up into a hopeful smile. “Want to make our way to the next gym together? It would be nice to have some company on the journey, and I want to get to know you better.”

You visibly perked up at her suggestion, just as Champion broke through the woods into her camp, returning to the happy calls of her team. The sun was bright as the two of you stepped into the clearing, and your eyes sparkled in the light as you beamed at her, making her heart skip more than just one beat.

“I’d love that!” You exclaimed, and her smile stretched to match yours, all of the fear, and cold from earlier being replaced by an excitement that lit a fire in her chest, different from the competitive determination she’d felt at the beginning of her journey.

“Great! This is going to be so much fun, I just know it.”

As she placed a sleeping Star into her tent and covered him with a blanket, listening to you coo at her other Pokémon, she couldn’t feel the annoyance she’d felt earlier, forgetting her promises to scold him when she found him. Instead, she pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead before sitting back to admire you, full of anticipation for the future.

“I never thought I’d say this, Star,” she said in a whisper as she stood up to head back out to you, head already spinning with plans of what she wanted to do with you. “But I’m so glad that you’re the curious type. I’ll cook you something nice to thank you for this when you wake up. I have a feeling that this is going to be big!”

[imagineslashers]

hi im the anon that asked for 17 ,19 & 20

sorry i didn't specify who sad what i got really excited-

so whichever Sinclair brother you choose can say 17 with the reader trying to sing do you wanna build a snowman and either one of them can say 20 & reader can say 19

again im sorry♡ have a good day🥰

that’s totally fine babes, i wasn’t sure which brother to use for this, so i used all 3 prompts with one for each brother if that’s okay! or if you had something else in mind, feel free to let me know! xx

Bo - prompt 17

Christmas is a special time in Ambrose, because Bo actually chills out a little bit.

Something about the holidays reminding him of times he spent with his brothers in the rare winter snow just mellows him out, but only a little bit. You’re the main reason he’s calmer, especially because of how excited you get for the holiday season, encouraging him for the first time in years to actually put some effort into Christmas.

That’s exactly how Bo finds himself dragging a huge, freshly cut tree across the town, huffing with the effort of it and occasionally muttering about how irritating it is to pull the tree behind him. He’s so wrapped up in his own little world that he doesn’t notice you sauntering up behind him.

“Hi baby!” Your voice causes him to stiffen, hesitating before he realises it’s just you. Bo drops the tree, hands on his hips, trying to catch his breath as white puffs of air pass his parted lips.

“Hi.” He reciprocates, wiping sweat from his brow. “This fuckin’ tree is heavy.” Bo states accusingly, but you just smile, stepping back to really admire the tree he chose.

“It’s so pretty, it will look perfect lit up!” Your excitement is contagious, and Bo’s pouty expression softens into the ghost of a smile as he signals you towards him. Once you obey, Bo wraps you in his arms, pressing a kiss to your temple before glancing around to make sure that neither of his brothers saw that.

The snow begins to fall again and Bo releases you, making for the tree again before the weather really hits. However, you have other ideas, spinning with your hands out to catch the snowflakes. 

“Hey Bo.” Your face is the picture of innocence, if not for the wide grin as you let out a sweet singsong tone. “Do you wanna build a sno-”

He registers what you’re singing immediately and hisses, pointing at you threateningly. “No, don’t you dare finish that.” He has one hand on the tree, the other still pointed at you in warning. After a few beats of silence, you step back from him and bat your eyelashes.

“A snowman?” You finish warmly, ignoring his glare.

“You fuckin’-” Bo’s charging at you in a split second and you squeal, darting around the tree abandoned on the floor to keep something between the two of you. Bo’s jaw is clenched, but he chuckles, a glint in his eyes. “Oh just you wait, sweetheart, when I get my hands on you!” His laugh is positively terrifying as he lunges over the tree at you, pulling you both down into the snow and tearing a startled laugh from you.

Vincent - prompt 20

The warmth of the oven fills the otherwise cold house as you waltz around the kitchen to the tune of the carols on the radio. The scent of baking cookies draws Vincent from his workroom and he hovers in the doorway, silently watching your carefree dancing.

You spin and catch a glimpse of him, letting out a yelp of surprise. Vincent’s shoulders drop in apology for startling you, but your face brightens into a smile as you rush to embrace him.

Stunned, he takes a second before his arms wrap around you to return the affection. “I’m making cookies, and gingerbreads, and- and we should have hot chocolate!” You beam up at him, arms still tightly around him.

Vincent’s brow creases in distaste and you barely catch the words he whispers hoarsely, but it makes you gasp regardless. “I don’t like hot chocolate.”

You step back from him, stunned, arms crossed. “Why not?” Vincent looks at the floor and shrugs. He’s never really had hot chocolate before, except for one Christmas when he was alone with his brothers and Bo made a terrible attempt at the drink as a meek way of trying to enjoy some part of the holidays after they lost their parents.

Since then, Vincent has associated hot chocolate with the taste of burnt milk and loss. However, the way your gaze softens makes him melt a little as he rubs his arm, mumbling an explanation.

You listen carefully, nodding. Finally, you offer him a gentle smile. “Well, that’s okay! Why don’t we try something else, like eggnog? Have you had that before?”

Vincent shakes his head warily, unsure as to what the drink is. You grasp his hand and lead him into the kitchen with you. “Perfect! You can help me make some then, and we’ll make it our holiday drink!” Your enthusiasm seeps into him, warming his heart as he contentedly helps you in your cooking escapades, grateful to have you as his own.

Lester - prompt 19

Snow is a rare thing in Ambrose, and Lester gets as excited about it as you do, which is really saying something. He tries his best to keep from speeding as he drives to your home on the outskirts of the town, where the snow has just begun blanketing the trees. 

He’s distracted by the lights you’ve strung up around the house as he approaches, his eyes lit up in awe, and doesn’t notice that he’s driving straight for your creation.

Lester slams on the breaks but it’s too late, snow flying everywhere, a stray carrot rolling down the hood of his car. Panic sets in and he leaps from the car, desperate to make sure you’re okay. 

You walk out of the house, blinking in surprise. “What’s wrong?” You had seen him brake suddenly as he approached the house, but only as you walk around to his car do you see the carnage.

Your carefully constructed snowman is in pieces, two button eyes stuck in the ground, his twig arms snapped and discarded. The gasp tears from your throat before Lester can even say anything, nervously wringing his hat between his hands.

“You murdered my snowman!” You exclaim in shock as you really take in the extent of the damage, Jonesy running from the house and barking in excitement at the sound of Lester’s return.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” Lester has one hand in his hair, gripping the strands with the guiltiest expression. “I didn’t mean it, I didn’t see it there, oh shit, I feel horrible!”

You can’t keep up the act when he’s clearly distressed about ruining something you put time into. You quickly wrap your arms around him, but he takes a moment to return the hug, torn by what he did.

“It’s okay, you can build a new one with me! I was just joking, it’s okay, honestly.” Your warm tone soothes him, but there’s still sheepishness in his eyes as he peers at you from under a creased frown. 

“Are you sure?” He’s searching your eyes for any sign of sorrow or resentment, but finds only amusement and compassion as you press your lips to his. 

“Of course, it will be more fun making one with you, I promise! Now come help me.”

[hopelikethemoon]

Family Dinner (Javier x Reader) {MTMF} [smut]

Title: Family Dinner Rating: Explicit Length: 3700 Warnings:  Family Fluff and Smut (period sex, shower sex, and fingering)  Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set in the Summer of 1998. No pre-reads so this is entirely unbeta’d because we live in a lawless land.  Summary: Javier teaches Josie to make enchiladas. 

@grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito​ @rogrsnbarnes​ @thewallpapergoesorido​ @twomoonstwosuns​ @gooddaykate​ @livasaurasrex​ @ham4arrow​ @plexflexico​ @readsalot73​ @hdlynn​ @lokiaddicted​ @randomness501​ @fioccodineveautunnale​  @roxypeanut​ @snivellusim​ @lukesrighthand​ @historynerd04​ @mrsparknuts​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @exrebelshocktrooper​ @awesomefandomsunited​ @ah-callie​ @swhiskeys​ @lady-tano​ @beskar-droids​ @space-floozy​ @cable-kenobi​ @cool-ultra-nerd​ @himbopoes​ @findhimfives​ @pedrosdoll​ @frietiemeloen​ @arrowswithwifi​ @random066​ @uncomicalhumour​ @heather-lynn​ @domino-oh-damn​ @cyarikaaa​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl​  @yabby-girl​ @xqueenofthecraziesx​ @punkass-potato​ @coredrive​ @pascalesque​ @theduchessofkirkcaldy​ @queenquazar​ @sabinemorans​ @buckstaposition​ @holkaskrosnou​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @fleetwoodmactshirt​

You inhaled deeply as you walked through the front door, catching the scent of something delicious coming from the kitchen. It smelt like roasted chilies. “I smell something good!” You called out as you kicked off your shoes by the front door, before you headed into the kitchen. 

Javier had Josie sitting on the kitchen counter beside him as he used a knife to peel the soft interior of the roasted pepper into the food processor. “Hey, baby.” He drawled out with a grin as he glanced back at you. 

“Mommy! We’re making enchinchillas.” 

Your brows shot upwards, “Interesting choice, if that’s the case. I think you’re making enchiladas.” You corrected her, biting the hair tie off your wrist and pinning your hair back into a loose bun. “How’s it going?” 

“The tortillas were a hit.” Javier told you, “Josie’s a natural with them.” 

You grinned, “Well, she certainly watched us make them when she was little.” 

“Really?” Josie asked. 

“Really.” You told her, kissing the top of her head as you reached over and ran your hand down Javier’s back. “We used to put you in your highchair and set you up in the kitchen so you could be part of the action.” 

“Wow!” She clasped her hands together. “Daddy said I was good at making them.” 

Javier shrugged a shoulder, “I figured, my mother started getting me involved with her cooking when I was a little younger than Josie. She loved this enchiladas recipe.” 

“I know.” You smiled warmly at him. “I’m glad you’re passing the tradition on.” 

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “How was work?” Javier questioned as you walked towards the other side of the kitchen. 

“I’ll be honest, I feel like crap.” You told him, pulling open one of the upper cabinets and pulling down the plastic tote that contained medicine. You grabbed the bottle of Tylenol and popped two into your mouth, holding them there while you put the tote back out of reach of the girls.

“What’s wrong?” Javier asked, before turning his attention back to the enchiladas, “Alright Josie, you can put the garlic in now.” 

“I love garlic!’

“It’s that time of the month.” You answered around the pills, filling up a glass of water to wash them down. “I’ve got the cramps of the century.” You washed your hands off in the sink, prepping to help them with dinner. 

“You should go lay down with a heating pad.” He offered, before the sound of the food processor switching on filled the kitchen. The smell of peppers and garlic made your stomach growl. You loved when Javier cooked. You weren’t half bad at making some of his favorite dishes, but he’d really honed his skills when he stayed at home for two years. 

You ducked out of the kitchen for a minute to find the camera, wanting to capture this moment on film. Javier tried to keep the memory of his mother alive with the girls. Especially Josie, who he swore looked like her. You could see it too. 

He had been so young when he lost her and he worked hard to supply Josie with her own collection of memories related to her abuelita. 

“Smile.” You urged, grinning as Josie and Javier both turned towards you and offered a confused look. 

“The paparazzi found us, JoJo.” Javier winked at her, “They’ve heard what a good cook you are, princesa.” 

Josie giggled as she pretended to hide her face from you, “No pictures please! No pictures!” She scrunched up her nose as you took two more pictures of them. 

“I can assure you, I have full press privileges in the Peña test kitchen.” You told her, matching her sassy expression with one of your own as you put your hands on your hips.

You moved to the other side of the kitchen to grab the large glass casserole dish you had used the last time you made enchiladas. You sat it down on the sink beside Josie. 

“Thanks, baby.” Javier said with a warm smile as he removed the blade from the food processor bowl, passing it to Josie. “Alright, now poor this into that dish.” He instructed her.

“It’s so red!” She mused as she poured the red sauce into the bowl. 

“Alright, you’re going to have to stay over here.” Javier informed her, “Because the oil is going to be very hot and I don’t want you to get burnt.”

“Okay!” She nodded, listening intently to him. 

“You’re going to dip the tortillas into the red sauce and then let mommy put it on a plate and bring it over to me.” He passed you the plate, before he moved towards the stove and got the skillet going.

“Look at us,” You told Josie with a grin. “We make quite the team, don’t we?”

She nodded, “We do! I wish sissy could help us. But daddy said she was too small to help us.” She pouted a little as she used the tongs to place the tortilla onto the plate. 

“She’s sleeping,” Javier told you as you brought the plate over to him. “We went to the park this afternoon and she was all about chasing after Stevie.” 

“I figured you hadn’t left her somewhere,” You teased, watching him for a moment as he carefully put the tortilla onto the skillet, moving it around before flipping it over. 

“Mommy! I have more for you!” She kicked her feet against the cabinet to get your attention.

“Babydoll, I am right here.” You chuckled as you returned to collect another tortilla, moving in between the two of them as the process continued. “Did you make the filling already?”

“I sense doubt in my skills,” Javier teased as you returned with another tortilla. “You’ll be proud of JoJo. She helped saute the onions and chicken.”

“But they’re not chicken nuggets.” Josie told you very primly. “I thought all chicken was nuggets.” 

You rolled your eyes and laughed, “Well, you do live on them.” 

She nodded, “I love chicken nuggets.” 

Once the tortillas were done in the skillet, Javier brought Josie over to help him fill them, holding her up over the side of the counter. You opted to take photos, quite impressed with how skillfully Josie was able to fill the tortilla, roll it, and place it into the long casserole dish. 

“I think this is going to be the cure for my crappy day.” You remarked as Javier worked on the finishing touches — spreading more red sauce over the enchiladas, before covering them with crumbled queso fresco and cheddar cheese. 

“I bet I can think of another way to cure your bad day, baby.” Javier retorted with a wry smirk. “The kind a nice hot shower might be able to fix.” 

“Behave.” You warned, picking up a piece of queso fresco and popping it into your mouth. 

Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth as he opened the stove and placed the dish inside. “Well, JoJo. You’ve done it. You have successfully made your very first enchiladas.” He turned on the stove light so she could peer inside. 

“We did it daddy!” She cheered, wrapping her arms around his leg and grinning up at him. 

“But now,” He started in a very grave voice. “We have to do the most important part of cooking.”

“What’s that?”

Javier gestured around the kitchen to the various plates, bowls, and utensils that had been used to make the enchiladas. “Clean up.” 

She scrunched up her nose and shook her head. “I’m good.” 

You snorted, smiling at the two of them. “Even Barney has a song about clean up, Josie.” 

“He says everybody do their share!” She pointed at you. “Are you helping, mommy?” 

“Mommy has to go check on sissy,” Javier explained to her, before turning his gaze towards you. “Go rest.” He mouthed to you, nodding his head towards the bedroom. 

“The Tylenol’s helping.” You assured him, “But I will go check on Sof. If I were her, this smell would wake me up.” 

“C’mere.” Javier crooked a finger at you, urging you close so he could press a kiss to your lips. “Thanks for helping.” 

You ran your fingers over the exposed skin of his chest where he had three buttons undone. “I’m always happy to cook with you.” You kissed him again, before you slipped out of his embrace and headed for the nursery. 

As you had expected, Sofía was wide awake, but contentedly chilling in her crib. You scooped her up with her stuffed Scooby-Doo plush, and headed back out into the kitchen. “Look who woke up from her nap.” 

“Sissy!” Josie squealed, grabbing at Sofía’s dangling feet and kissing them. 

Stevie barked, darting into the kitchen to announce that someone was at the front door. She paced back and forth for a moment, before running back into the family room and barking again. 

“Monica and Nadia are joining us.”

“I figured.” You said as you passed Sofía to him. “You pulled out the big casserole dish.” 

He chuckled, scratching at the back of his neck. “I would’ve invited Steve and Connie too, but her mother’s in town—”

“Say no more.” You made a face, before you leaned down and kissed your daughter’s belly as Javier held her back to his chest in a cradle. She giggled and squealed, patting at your head. 

Josie scurried out of the kitchen to greet her two favorite people. That child could talk a person’s ears off if they let her and Monica and Nadia always let her. She was obsessed with them and they were fine with that. 

“I come bearing gifts,” Nadia said as she walked into the kitchen with a bottle of Dewars White Label. 

“You don’t have to bring us gifts every time you come over for dinner,” You told her, giving her a hug after you took the bottle from her. “But I’m not going to say ‘no’ to scotch.” 

“That’s what I thought.” Nadia laughed, waving at Sofía as she babbled for attention in Javier’s arms. “Honestly, I got it at my co-worker’s barbecue last weekend.” Nadia told you, “They played a bunch of stupid games and I won it.” 

“Games?” You made a face.

“I don’t understand people in Florida’s obsession with party games.” Javier rolled his eyes. 

“You’ve both lived here for how long now? Aren’t you Florida people now?”

“No.” You both answered in unison. 

“Mhm.” Nadia gave you both a skeptical look. “Whatever floats your boats, party people.” 

“How’s the internship going?” You questioned as you moved to put the bottle of scotch in the liquor cabinet. “Planning to escape to space anytime soon?”

“I’m not an astronaut.” Nadia reminded you with a short laugh, “I am having a blast.”

Javier chuckled, “Like blast off?”

Nadia groaned, “You are not allowed to pull out dad jokes, Javi. It is too early.”

“Anyways,” You gave Javier a pointed look, even though you couldn't help but grin. He could be so fucking corny sometimes. He’d always had a great sense of humor, but back in Colombia, it tended to veer into the dark humor realm. “What do they have you doing?”

“Well, the internship title is ‘Molten Regolith Electrolysis Subsystem Design and Testing’, so that is what I do.”

“That’s a lot of words.” You shook your head. “As long as you’re having fun.” 

“I am.” Nadia nodded, glancing back towards the family room at the sound of Monica and Josie laughing. “The distance sucks, but we’re making it work.” 

Javier bounced Sofía in his arms, “That’s what, three hours?”

“Four with traffic.” Nadia made a face, “Seriously, thanks again for letting her have your old Taurus. I don’t know what we would’ve done.” 

“We’re happy to help,” Javier told her with a smile. “We just want what’s best for Monica.” 

“I think I can speak for her when I say you guys were exactly what she needed.” Nadia told you, a faint smile playing over her lips. “I obviously wasn’t there for everything, but I know what she says. She needed actual parents.” 

“I might not have given birth to her, but Monica is as much our daughter as Josie and Sofía.” You assured her. “She’s a hell of a young woman.” 

Monica appeared around the corner with Josie wrapped around her back, arms slung over her shoulders. “I heard my name.”

Nadia grinned at her, “I can’t embarrass you by looking at baby pictures, so I’ve got to make do with verbal brag books.”

“Oh God,” Monica grumbled, closing the distance between her and Nadia to press a kiss to her lips — which Josie provided sound effects for. 

“What a weirdo.” Nadia teased, ruffling Josie’s hair. “What did you do this week?”

You turned back to Javier with a grin, “Never a dull moment.” 

He clicked his tongue against his teeth and shook his head, “And to think I used to picture being cooped up in an apartment alone somewhere at this point in my life.” He readjusted Sofía in his arms, letting her wrap her arms around his neck as she gurgled and attempted to add to the conversation. 

“All that’s missing is the white picket fence.” You smirked, “I think it would clash with our aesthetics.” 

He snorted, “It’s a damn good life.” 

“It is.” You reached up and ran your fingers through the hair that fell against his forehead, before you leaned in to kiss him. “I think I might take you up on that offer.” 

His brows rose upwards, “Yeah?”

“Something to think about.” You whispered as you kissed him again, before you turned back towards the girls. “So what are we drinking?”

“Monica’s driving. Do you have any gin?” 

“Yep, in the cabinet.” You nodded, “And lemonade, since I know exactly where this is going.” 

“Mommy, can I have gin?”

“Nope, but you may have lemonade.” You told Josie, patting her back. “Hey, why don’t you take Stevie out in the backyard before dinner?”

“Okay.” 

“I’ll go with her.” Monica told you, before looking to Nadia, “Hon, can I just have a Coke?” 

“You’ve got it.” Nadia snapped her fingers, before helping herself to the fridge as Monica departed the kitchen. 

Given your upbringing, family dinners had never really been a thing that you looked forward to. Hell, family in and of itself was such a contentious topic. But that wasn’t the case anymore. You didn’t envy others for the families they had, because you had your own. You had Javier, who proved to be the most incredible partner — and you had the girls, Nadia included. 

 ———

 You tilted your head back, eyes closed as you let the warm water run down your chest, rivulets running down between your breasts and falling at your feet. Despite your claims that the Tylenol had eased your cramps, you still felt the stiff knot of tension in your lower belly. This month seemed determined to be a bitch. Your period just had to arrive fast and hard on a Friday — just to ruin hitting the pool over the weekend. 

The bathroom door creaked open and you smirked, “Who goes there?” You questioned with a teasing lilt, listening to the tell-tale sound of Javier’s clothes being removed. The faintest flicker of arousal burned in your core at the promise of what was to come. 

“Depends on who you want me to be, baby.” Javier drawled out, peeling back the shower curtain. 

You turned beneath the showerhead, blinking as the water ran into your eyes as you watched him step in to join you in the shower. “So many possibilities.” You teased, reaching out to stroke your fingers over his chest. “But I think you is the best answer.” 

He nodded his head slowly as he ran his hand over your hip, stepping closer to you. “That is the best answer.” Javier gave your hip three squeezes, before he leaned down to trail a line of kisses down the curve of your throat. “How are you feeling?”

“Gross.” You admitted, resting your hands at his shoulders, playing with the water droplets as they fell onto his skin. “I feel like my body is punishing me for not breastfeeding anymore.” You sighed softly when Javier’s tongue darted out against your pulse point. “I’ve got cramps, I’m bloated, and thanks to someone I’m a little bit horny.” 

“I’m very interested in that last one,” Javier remarked, pressing kisses along your collarbone as he ran his hands over your waist. “You gonna let me take care of you, baby?”

You nodded, raking your fingers through his wet hair, “I’m looking forward to a little relief.” You told him, letting him manhandle you as he turned you around. 

“I’ll help however I can,” Javier whispered close to your ear as he ran his hand downwards, tracing shapes over your lower belly before he dipped downwards. 

You closed your eyes, sinking back against him as he parted your folds, dragging his fingers between them. He never cared — at all. You’d had boyfriends when you were younger that treated you like a pariah when you were on your period. Javier wasn’t one of them. He took it all in stride and was always willing to adapt. 

“Baby,” Javier started, brushing his lips over the shell of your ear. “Have I mentioned lately how fucking gorgeous you are?” 

A little bit of praise and you felt like every nerve in your body had come to life. “I think you mentioned it last night, but I’m open to hearing it again.” You told him, turning your head to press a kiss to his scruffy cheek. 

Javier worked one and then two fingers into you, dragging them in and out of you slowly. There was something tantalizing about the feel of water rubbing down your skin while he worked at your cunt. You shivered and he chuckled, scraping his teeth over the curve of your shoulder. “Bet I could bend you over right now and fuck you. Couldn’t I?” 

You couldn’t help but nod your head, your mind focused on the singular bliss of his fingers working in and out of you. He kept hooking them just right, sending little pulses of need through your veins. 

His cock was hard against your ass and you couldn’t help but grind back against him. You grabbed at his free hand, bringing it to your chest, urging him to grab at your breast. 

Javier pinched at your nipple and the twinge of pain was quickly followed by fresh pleasure as it burned through you. You were going to come. You could feel the heat radiating through your core. 

“This pussy—“ Javier rasped out as he caught your earlobe between his teeth. “There’s nothing better, baby. So fucking perfect.”

You were so close. 

“Come for me, baby.” He urged. “Come on. Be a good girl. Just for me.”

You cried out softly as you started to come around his fingers, your inner walls clenching and pulsing as your release washed through you. 

He withdrew his fingers while you were still coming down from your high, letting the water rinse them clean before he guided your further under the water’s flow. 

You turned around to face him, tilting your chin as you pulled him down and kissed him. You balanced on one foot, wrapping the other leg around his hip, drawing him towards you.

Javier took the hint, reaching down between you to guide his cock to your center. He grabbed at your thigh, holding it to his hip as he pushed into you.

Your nails scraped over his scalp as you combed your fingers through his hair. Your cunt was still clenching from your release, drawing him into you until he could press no further. 

“How does that feel, baby?” Javier questioned, rocking grinding his hips into yours. 

“Fuck.” Your head hit back against the wall as he remained still within you. You swore you could feel every inch of him buried within you, your inner walls fluttering around him — making it feel even tighter. 

“Use your words.” He nipped at your jaw. “Come on, baby.”

“Fuck you.” You mumbled, scoring your nails down the back of his neck as you rolled your hips, clenching tight around him as you did.

Javier swore hoarsely, his fingers digging into your thigh as he tried to keep you still. “Want you to come for me, just like this.” 

Your eyes flickered open to meet his, blinking through the water droplets as they fell from his face and hair onto you. He looked good. It was unfair how good he looked. 

“That’s no fun.” You whispered, tightening your body around him again as you wiggled your hips. You ran your hand over your neck, before sliding it down your stomach, between your thighs to where your bodies were joined. You scraped your fingernails over his lower belly, trailing downwards towards the root of his cock, fingers playing over the skin just at where you were pressed together. 

“It’ll be very fun,” He assured you as he drew back just enough press back into you once more. He breathed out your name as he pressed his forehead to yours.

You curled your fingers around the back of his neck, tilting your head just enough to kiss him as your fingers sought out that little bundle of nerves that set off fresh heat in your belly. 

He palmed at your breast gently as he rolled his hips slowly — barely pulling out of you before pressing back into you once again. You moaned against his lips, your tongue sweeping out to find his as you kissed him. 

Your first release had barely settled before you felt your second building on the heels of it. Javier kissed you so desperately as your release washed through you. He swallowed up the sounds you made, lips crushing yours. 

Javier started moving then, driving into your clenching cunt until he was able to find his own release right behind yours. He ran his hand over your thigh tenderly soothing the bruises he’d left. 

He sank against you, forehead pressed into the crook of your neck, “Fuck, baby.”

You ran your hand down his back, “Water’s getting cold.” You told him, kissing his shoulder.

He chuckled, the sound muffled against your skin. “It’s worth it.” 

You smiled against his shoulder, “It helped.” You whispered, winding your arms around him. 

“Good.” You whispered, squeezing your hip three short times. 

[ffxiv-ariavitali]

Feel free to ignore this if its too silly or something (im so bad at asks ) but how would the ishgard boys and anyone else of your choosing feel about a short wol being able to pick them up and carry them if they had to? Like they were injured or the wol decided they were working too much and carried them home? (Also your writings continue to be the best parts of my day many hugs to you)

Thank you very much for the compliment, my dear! I’m so happy to be able to bring you joy on a daily basis :)

I wrote an injured wol premise before, as well, so I’ll leave this here for your reference on top of this ask <3 I’m sorry it took so long to reach your request

❅ ❅ ❅

[Estinien]

Estinien gave you a bemused stare after he heard you crying out suddenly in shock. When he peered over his shoulder to see what had happened, you had slipped and fallen into the nearby river on your way though the Forelands to visit Vidofnir—a stop before you began your trek to the Churning Mists to visit Hraesvalgr in Zenith.

“What in Fury’s name are you doing?” Estinien asked with a baffled expression, more amazed at the fact that you’re so clumsy outside of battle. It was as if a switch would flick in and out of combat and if he wasn’t as close to you as he is now, he would doubt the veracity of the rumors stating how battle-hardened you were at the sight of you tripping and falling over flat ground.

You pout and begin throwing a tantrum, splashing your hands into the water in a fit to demand that he helps you and while he gave a shake of a head and a sigh, he stepped closer and offered a hand for you to take.

You reached out to take it, but the sudden weight on your ankle was too much and you were sure you sprained it. Noticing the sudden stutter in your steps, Estinien immediately knew what had happened and he heaved a heavier breath. So, the man turned and knelt before you, offering his back.

“Get on,” he ordered with no room for argument.

With a flush, you obey immediately and do as he asks. When he lifts you, it is with ease and you were pressing your face gently against his shoulder.

“You are much lighter than you look,” Estinien commented. “Unsurprising, given how tiny you are.”

The man laughed as you began flailing on his back.

[Aymeric]

When the evening hour draws close and the sun had finally set into the horizon, Aymeric finally decides to peer up from his documents on his desk to look towards the rest of his office. Off to the side, Lucia was arranging a pile of papers on a drawer that he knew were documents needed for the next day’s appointments and, lying on top of the couch the lord had specifically laid out for your visits was none other than you.

“Oh dear,” Aymeric muses aloud, setting his pen aside as he watches your sleeping face. “How long have they been like this?”

Lucia tries her best not to roll her eyes at her lord, reminding herself of the fact that it was natural that her lord wouldn’t notice. That her lord, in all his dedication to his work and his persistent nature, would want to finish his tasks before he attempts something new. She pitied you, that’s for certain, and the amount of tea and cakes you had eaten while waiting for his attention.

“For several bells, my lord,” Lucia answers with a heavy sigh. “It would be in your best interest if you finish for the night. If not for your sake, then for theirs.”

Aymeric’s face fell and paled simultaneously as he nodded in agreement. Surely, it was a wake up call to him to be more aware of his surroundings and when he stood to his feet and approached where you slept, he called your name so sweetly and gently. It was only enough to bring you to a half-awake state and you were murmuring and muttering incoherently.

The man didn’t know what to do until Lucia had handed him your coat and he had helped you into it after sitting you up. Though, with how you were swaying back and forth, there was no getting you up and ready to head back to the manor. So, instead, the man maneuvered you to carry you on his back, small a thing that you were, and carried you home—that is, with the help of the first commander whom he promised to cook omelettes at the rise of the sun.

[Haurchefant]

With Haurchefant being so attuned to you and your physical, emotional and mental condition, it was easy for him to see that you were beyond exhaustion. Though, perhaps, it was an easy task for everyone in general with the way that you were swaying to and fro, constantly almost running into trees and whatnot.

When you had fallen into your third snowbank, Haurchefant decided that enough was enough as he stepped towards you with a stern expression.

“Wh-Wha...?” you manage to get out between your haze-filled mind.

Haurchefant huffed. “It is in your best interest to get some rest, my dear, and I will make sure that you get some.”

Before you could process anything that was going on, Haurchefant had picked your tiny figure up in his arms, bridal style, and began carrying you back towards Camp Dragonhead. Your cheeks were flushed from embarrassment, for the action certainly had sobered you from your dream-filled state quickly, but you were scared to flail because you might hit him.

“Haurchefant, put me down this instant!” you exclaim, though it came out more like a shy whine.

Haurchefant stopped walking and took the time to peer down to you. His eyes were still hard and his jaw was still clenched, but when he noticed that you were worried over whether he was upset, his face melted quickly like snow meeting a warm spring’s day.

“For how long will you continue to worry me, mine heart? Please, will you not get some rest?”

Understanding where the man is coming from, you sigh and allow yourself to relax in his arms. Taking this signal of obedience, he continued on in his endeavors, especially since he made no jest of it from the first. 

A part of you wonders just how sweet the man can get.

[crimsongrimoire]

What are some of your favorite lines of dialog that you've written, across all your fics? Your dialog makes me want to perish (complementary). 🐟

oh BOY this will probably be A List. hmm.

im probably gonna do just kaeluc stuff since thats my current obsession and all. plus i dont feel like looking through like 300+ pages of other fic documents. this one is long enough as is HFDHSKF

"You may be the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on." 

"Stop lying," Diluc groans through clenched teeth. 

Kaeya laughs softly, working his fingers ever harder. "I'm hurt. You're too pretty to lie to, like this. I'm serious."

-

all time favorite for kaeluc stuff is probably:

"I assumed you wouldn't want to talk about the many suitors I've had sprawled across my bed, especially right now."

"Alright, alright, no need to brag."

-

"I love how you look on your knees, little prince. You look so perfect with my cock in your mouth."

"Do you have to say things like that?"

"You don't have to be afraid to say you like it, Luc."

-

BABYS FIRST FINISHED KAELUC FIC......

"You know that won't be easy."

"It'd be no fun if it was. The only question is, is it possible?"

+

"Promise me you won't leave again. Swear it."

-

"Your depravity really does know no bounds."

-

THIS ISN'T JUST DIALOGUE BUT I STILL REALLY LIKE IT AND AM SAD I PUT IT IN SOMETHING MEDIOCRE THAT DID RELATIVELY BAD. also some of this was technically the VERY FIRST kaeluc thing i ever wrote so thats fun:

"That didn't happen. Now, shut your mouth," he says, giving Kaeya a pointed look and brandishing a carrot, "before I shove this somewhere you don't want it."

"Gross," Paimon interjects, seeming the least shocked out of the five of them, scrunching up her nose.

"Well." A lazy, catlike smirk stretches across Kaeya's face. He does this thing up against a tree at the edge of the clearing, this habit he's had when up against a vertical surface since he was a preteen, this cocky little body-lean-head-tilt-arm-cross that Diluc has come to hate because fuck him, it's still attractive. "If it's you doing it, I don't know where that would be." Nobody besides Diluc- who rolls his eyes in annoyance and returns to cooking, face tinged the slightest bit pink- can tell that Kaeya just winked.

"Double gross."

"Good to see you two finally getting along," Lisa says with a small laugh.

"That's not what I'd call it," Diluc replies, not looking away from the fire. "We're simply being forced to cooperate."

"That doesn't mean you have to talk. You don't seem as gloomy as usual." Damn Lisa for having a point.

Diluc scoffs dismissively. "Communicating just makes work easier."

Lisa just smiles wryly and leaves it at that, sipping from her canteen and glancing over at Kaeya, who's shaking his head.

-

"Wait," Diluc murmurs when he breaks away, placing a hand over the stranger's mouth when he tries to follow. "Take off the mask."

The stranger groans. "Really?"

"Yes."

"You're no fun, as always." The stranger removes his mask, and Diluc huffs in irritation upon seeing his face.

"I knew it. Only you would wear that gaudy thing."

Kaeya grins. "Is that why you danced with me?"

Diluc simply rolls his eyes and kisses him again. "You know you weren't invited."

"I wasn't? I'm hurt. You've made me feel quite welcome, though."

-

preface this was for kaeluc month in like december almost a year ago and i obviously never finished it. kms. ive never participated in an event like that and it makes me SO MAD. anyway dilucs a vampire and kaeyas fae and kaeya invited him over for tea and theyre just at a stalemate of not wanting to be a bad guest or host cause of stupid metaphysical rules. anyway:

"I'll let you off with a warning this time, but no elbows on the table, Diluc. I know you know better. You wouldn't want to be a bad guest, now, would you?"

Diluc straightens immediately and puts his hands in his lap, as if the table had just burned him. "Of course not. Aren't you supposed to offer me something to eat, or are you not afraid of being a bad host?"

Kaeya props his head on the back of his hand, blatantly resting his elbow on the edge of the table. "But of course. What would you like?"

"You. ...Please."

Kaeya hums thoughtfully. "Now, that's not quite polite, is it?"

"I did say please," Diluc remarks, calmly crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. They're going to be here for a while.

"That doesn't mean you get to ask to kill someone in their own home."

"It's not polite to order someone to do something when they can't refuse, either."

"Touché."

-

"I don't know what the hell to do with myself. It's all I can do not to beg you to take me until it's past time to open."

-

"Oh, Archons, Diluc, please, no, I'll come," Albedo says breathily between gasps, biting his lip to keep more noises at bay.

Diluc's lips turn upward just the slightest bit. "Isn't that our goal?"

+

"Okay, okay, Mr. Killjoy. We get it. You're jealous you aren't getting any attention. Don't set his books on fire."

-

"Do I have to tie you up, or are you going to be good?"

-

Diluc peers over Kaeya's shoulder at the cum on the floor and clicks his tongue. "You made a mess."

"What else was I supposed to do?"

A wicked smile graces Diluc's face as he brushes his lips against Kaeya's ear and pulls his head back by his hair, coaxing out a throaty gasp. "You know you're going to have to lick it up, right?"

"I'm surprised you, of all people, would even suggest that."

-

"The Archons blessed me with you."

Kaeya snorts. "I think I'm the last thing you'd call a blessing."

-

OKAY I THINK THATS ENOUGH SUCKING MY OWN DICK TBH theres a lot i think my dialogue is good sometimes i write so fucking much of it i guess i better huh

[nearlymanaged]

10. Des Mots Magiques

The last few weeks of the term seemed to fly by at the speed of light before the world came to a screeching halt. Remus felt not only pleased with himself, but also proud of his three best friends for how they finished their first half of their sixth year at Hogwarts. James and Peter had been doing better than just alright in their Potions lessons, and Sirius managed to scrape up an E on their mock History of Magic exam. 

The four boys arrived at the Potters’ residence in the late afternoon on Christmas Eve. They spent the whole day playing two-a-side snow fight. James’ dad would occasionally join them, without leaving his study, by charming some snow balls to pelt whichever side was doing better at any given moment. They eventually got called back inside by James’ mum for some of the best dinners Remus had ever had the pleasure of eating - especially after exerting all his energy, trying to bring James and Sirius down.

He had been a guest of the Potters a few times before, and he always thoroughly enjoyed it. He would have never said a bad word about his own parents, but Mr. and Mrs. Potter seemed to love nothing more than caring for their son and his friends. Remus silently wondered if he could ever have such a home - full of love and laughter, instead of anxiety and quiet resentment.

He enjoyed chatting with James’ mum immensely; they would discuss topics ranging from Herbology to the ongoing war against Voldemort and his supporters. And James’ dad had such warmth about; Remus had never truly realised that dads didn’t have to be distant and strict and vague until he met Fleamont Potter.

Since Sirius now lived with the Potters, he had his own bedroom in their house, and he insisted that Remus take his bed that night.

“Your body gets wrecked enough as it is, we shouldn’t subject you to sleeping on that,” he pointed at the camping bed that Mr. Potter had set up in the room.

Remus had tried to argue but Sirius swiftly turned into a black dog on the spot, dragged a blanket off the foldout bed and onto the floor, and, after turning in circles a handful of times, curled up in the middle of it. “Thanks, Pads,” Remus had smiled at him and climbed into the empty bed.

On Christmas morning they all gathered in the sitting room to open presents and drink hot cocoa together (James had added a liberal splash of firewhiskey to each cup).

“Sirius, your hair is getting so long,” Mrs. Potter lightly brushed her hand over the top of his head as she walked past, collecting everyone’s now empty mugs.

“Yeah, I suppose it is…” Sirius tugged at a dark strand looking self-conscious all of a sudden, which didn’t happen all that often.

“It suits you, you look very handsome,” she beamed at him, effectively putting a proud grin on his face.

“I like it too,” Remus mumbled, more so to himself than anyone else.

“So what have you boys got planned for today?”

“We’re more than happy to help you cook!” Peter looked up at Mrs. Potter eagerly.

“So very sweet of you, but I’ll be quite alright. It’s your Christmas break, you should be having fun!”

“Well, actually,” Sirius got up from his chair and stretched. “I’ve been wanting to go to a record shop.”

“Great! Remus can come with you,” James grinned without skipping a beat.

“I suppose I can,” Moony agreed, albeit a little confused by James’ insistence. “What are you two going to do?”

“We’ve got...stuff, school stuff.”

“Oh really?” Mr. Potter peered at his son, but Remus never heard the rest of the conversation because Sirius grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the room, evidently extremely eager to get going.

“It might not even be open today,” Remus pointed out but proceeded to put his shoes and coat on nonetheless.

“I know how to pick locks, remember?” Sirius wiggled his eyebrows.

“That is very much illegal, remember?”

The walk to the Muggle town took about thirty chatter and laughter filled minutes, towards the end of which Sirius started complaining about being cold. Of course, that was to be expected since he was wearing a leather jacket and no gloves or scarf or hat. Just as Remus was pointing this out, they rounded a corner and saw the record shop on the other side of the street. They could hear music coming from it, but when they walked up the steps leading to the door, they saw a ‘closed’ sign. Just for good measure, Sirius rattled the handle, but it unsurprisingly didn’t budge.

They could clearly make out now that the music coming out through the open window on the side of the building was some kind of a french song. 

“What are you doing?” Remus asked slowly as he watched Sirius walk over to the window that was set in the wall just above his head, and, keeping his eyes on it, started walking backwards. 

“I’ll just take a quick peek. Maybe they’ll let us in.”

“Sirius, that’s a bit creepy,” Remus laughed, watching him jump up a couple of times before turning into a  massive dog. He could jump a lot higher as Padfoot and so when he leapt up again, he used his strong front legs to hang over the windowsill. “At least technically not illegal, I suppose…”

“Oh merde!” A surprised yelp came from inside the building. “Mais qu'est-ce que c'est?” 

A brown haired boy, probably around their age, poked his head out the same window; after glancing around quickly, his eyes fell upon Remus. “Is this your puppy?” He asked squarely, a noticeable accent clinging to each word - French, Remus was sure.

“Er, yeah…” He pulled his lips into a smile, wondering how Sirius liked being referred to as a puppy.

The answer to that came in a loud, angry growl when the stranger tried to pet the dog. Then, Sirius leapt down to the ground and, having no choice at this point, sat down next to Remus looking rather like an obedient pet.

“Not very friendly? But ‘e has good taste in music.”

“Apparently so. We uh, didn’t mean to bother. Didn’t realise the shop would be closed.”

“Ah you are not bothering me. Come in...” The boy disappeared and seconds later opened the front door. “Please.”

Remus glanced down at Sirius, barely able to contain an amused smile, and gave him an almost imperceptible shrug before walking over to the boy. “Is it alright if my puppy comes in?”

“Of course. I don’t think my uncle would be pleased but ‘e is not ‘ere.”

“Does your uncle own this place then?” Remus asked, brushing his fingertips against the covers of records as we walked deeper into the shop, followed by Padfoot.

“Yes. I am only ‘ere for the ‘olidays. My parents think it would be charmant to spend Christmas in the English countryside. But I think it is so boring ‘ere. I only like this shop,” the boy motioned around as he stopped in front of a record player. “Do you know this song?”

“No, I don’t think I’ve ever heard it…” Remus mumbled.

“I must play it for you from the beginning then!” And with that, the boy lifted the needle of the player and repositioned it at the edge of the vinyl disc. “It is a well known love song in France,” he added before lowering the needle again, allowing the music to fill the air.

The song was beautiful, Remus had to admit, even though he had no idea what they were singing about. He liked the sound of a beautiful language that seemed like it possessed magic beyond anything he’d ever learnt at Hogwarts. That night when Sirius was speaking French, talking him to sleep, Remus thought his heart was going to explode. He had listened to the hypnotising crooning of his voice, dreaming up images in his head of the words he was hearing were those of professing love. Of course, he was sure, Sirius was probably talking about how boring that week’s History of Magic lesson had been or something just as mundane. But he felt like he could have curled up in his voice all the same and spent a hundred years lying there, on that sofa, so close to him.

The boy wasn’t saying anything so Remus started pacing down the rows of boxes full of records, getting lost in the memory that the song had brought back in his mind. Sirius was striding alongside him the whole time, up until the song ended.

“‘E is comparing ‘is lover with the wind and smell of roses,” the boy spoke again right behind Remus, who hadn’t noticed him come up and flinched slightly. “‘E is saying that she is a beautiful love story, that ‘e will not stop reading it.”

“That’s...very poetic,” Remus blurted, feeling a bit out of the water discussing the topic. “What is she saying?”

“She says, it’s all just words. She does not believe ‘im anymore. She thinks it is only sweet, euh...fragile words.”

“So it’s a sad song?” 

“Yes and no. Is it better to have passion that is very short and go away, or is it better to never have it at all?” Again, Remus didn’t really know how to answer such a question, and posed by a stranger no less, all while Sirius was listening to them. “You are turning red,” the boy stated to add to it all. “British boys are so shy sometimes, I have noticed this.” A strange smirk played on his lips.

“You ask complicated questions, I suppose,” Remus answered, growing a little annoyed by the boy's obvious enjoyment in making him feel uneasy.

“Red suits you. I am called Vincent,” he turned around on his heel and strode over to the record player before glancing over his shoulder. “What is your name?”

“Remus,” Moony shoved his hands in his pockets and cast a glance at the black dog who was starting to squeal and whine a little.

“Remus… I like it. Do you live here, Remus? I’ve never seen you.”

“No, I’m just visiting for the holidays as well.”

“Ah, I see. ‘Ow long will you be ‘ere?”

“For another week or so.”

“Were you looking for something specific? To buy?” Vincent casually changed the topic, again.

“Er, not really. Just wanted to browse around, I guess.”

“Then what should I play now?”

Remus looked at Sirius out of the corner of his eyes, hoping he’d indicate to him somehow which record he wanted to hear; instead, he was peering at Vincent with unyelding intensity, almost glaring, if his canine snout allowed for such expression.

“H-how about Velvet Underground? Do you know them?” Remus looked over at Vincent from across the shop.

“I do not think so.” Regardless, he strode over to the box labelled ‘V’ and pulled out a record. “You can come closer, I will not bite,” he uttered once he stood in front of the player again.

“I might,” Remus mumbled without thinking as he shuffled deeper into the shop again.

Vincent lifted his face as the first notes of Sunday Morning filled the room; there was that same peculiar smile etched in his features. “Who are you visiting for the ‘olidays? Not a girlfriend--” his breath caught, eyes gleaming, before he added, “or a boyfriend?”

“No, just a friend and his family…” Remus answered, wondering if it was the language barrier that made the whole interaction so strange. “So how long will you be staying here for?” He asked, more out of politeness than anything else.

“Two weeks. Maybe this trip will not be so boring in the end?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Remus shrugged with a small smile, not really understanding what the boy meant.

Sirius seemed to be eager to get out of there, his whining growing ever louder, but Remus didn’t want to seem rude and walk out right then, when Vincent had just put on the record for them. He shot Sirius a quick, somewhat exasperated look and turned back to the French boy. “What do you think? Bit different than your music, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is very different. Is this your favourite artist?” He looked vaguely put off.

“Not really. I like a little bit of everything.”

“Ah, I see. I like the first song more. ‘E sounds, I don’t know… ‘ow do you say? Aggressive maybe, no?”

“I suppose Lou Reed doesn’t have the most pleasant voice…” Remus laughed a little, bobbing his head.

“Your puppy doesn’t like it?” Vincent looked over at Padfoot who, for all the boy knew, was agitated by the music.

“Oh, he likes it alright.”

There was a pause that stretched while the song went on; an awkward pause, Remus felt, as his smiling eyes kept wandering from Vincent to Padfoot, to boxes of records, to the player. He started wondering if maybe the boy was growing bored, maybe he regretted letting them in, maybe it was time to leave...

“How did you get these scars?” Vincent spoke softly, yet unexpectedly, and lifted his hand, as if intending to touch a long-healed mark on the side of Remus’ face; instead, his fingers hovered inches from Moony’s’ skin before he retracted them.

“Er…I-- It’s...” Moony stumbled over his words, surprised by the bluntness.

“Forgive me, I did not want to offend,” the boy pressed both hands to his chest; now it was him who seemed to be blushing. “I think they are beautiful.”

“You...what?”

The boy let out a small giggle. “They look very unique...in a good way. I think they make you more ‘andsome.”

Remus felt his ears get hot as he stared at the boy; it was as though he only now took a good look at him since he had entered the shop. Vincent was shorter than him, probably a little shorter than Sirius. He had brown hair and eyes that were so dark, they almost appeared black. He had perfectly straight teeth and a tanned glow to his skin, even in the middle of winter.

Before Remus could respond, Sirius bounded across the length of the shop and put his giant frown paws on his shoulder, nudging Vincent out of the way as he did so. 

“‘E is very funny dog!” The boy chuckled.  

“He is…” Remus pushed the dog off himself; Padfoot wasn’t relenting, however - he snatched the sleeve of his coat and started tugging at it, slowly inching backwards, towards the door. Remus wasn’t sure if he wanted to leave now. He was overcome by a kind of curiosity - this French boy seemed to be flirting with him. “I er...I think I ought to get going,” he breathed out, trying to shake Sirius off. “Thank you for...er, thank you.”

He felt a rush of excitement as the boy gave him a rather disappointed smile. Remus had become so wrapped up in his feelings for Sirius that he was taken aback by how nice it felt to have this stranger notice him, how flattered he was by it.

Just then, Vincent took Remus’ hand in his. “Come back again before you leave, Remus?”

“I-- I’ll try,” he beamed at the boy before giving in to Sirius and getting dragged outside.

Sirius didn’t waste any time before turning back into his human self, which Remus found a bit reckless, considering the boy might have been looking out the door or one of the windows.

“Well that was a drag,” he folded his arms over his chest as they started walking back the same way they had come. “What a pretentious little git.”

“I think he was alright…”

“Zis is a song about love, eet is not aggressive but full of passion. But you wouldn’t know anything about eet, British boys are so pudibond,” Sirius did a cruel yet rather accurate impression and rolled his eyes. “Fils de pute prétentieux.”

Remus gaped at him, his whole upper body turned towards Sirius. “The fleas bothering you again, aren’t they? I’m telling you, we can get rid of them very easily,” he let out a melodious chuckle but Sirius merely pouted, hugging himself tighter.

[myheroacademiashorts]

HI, I REALLY LIKED THE LAST ONE YOU DID WITH BAKUGOU AND THE READER, NOW IM BACK🤡 if it aint too much to ask, may i get a request with kirishima where him and his girlfriend go grocery shopping? like the others planned what they want to eat and so kirishima and his s/o go get the ingredients they need; but they get sidetracked 🤡 his s/o keeps sitting in the cart while kiri drives them around (crazily), they keep trying samples, etc. they get what they need and head back to the dorms🥰 thanks!!

HI I don’t much about stores in Japan butttt I LOVE THIS IDEA SO HERE U GO SORRY FOR THE WAIT!!

Title: Shopping Cart Joyride

Prompt: (Requested!)

Rating: Fluff!

Words: 5,870

——————————————————————————

“You know what would go great with these notes? Some sukiyaki.”

You snorted at Mina’s words, partially ignoring her as you continued to show Tsuyu the correct math equation. The girls from 1-A were all gathered in the living room, notes and textbooks haphazardly scattered across the coffee table and floor. While you weren’t the smartest student within the class, you were at least in the top 5, meaning you and Momo had been recruited by your other classmates to run a studying session.

“Oh, that does sound good! Do you think we have everything for it?” Ochako piped up in excitement, and soon everyone was chattering about the prospect of hot pot. Even your stomach was growling at the thought.

“Do you think we could convince Bakugou to make it? He’s the best chef here.”

“Oi! Talking shit, you extras?”

Just as the words had left Mina’s lips, the infamous hothead himself entered the building, a gym bag tossed over his shoulder and sweat glistening from his forehead. Trailing close behind him were Kirishima, Kaminari, and a handful of the other boys who forced themselves through Bakugou’s tough regime, huffing and puffing as if they just finished a marathon. Your E/C gaze immediately sought out Kirishima, drifting over his frame before dropping to your notes once more, a light blush adorning your cheeks. From beside you, Jirou nudged your arm with a grin. Your crush on the red head was apparent to a lot of your classmates, except for him it seemed. Not that you minded that fact too much; just imagining Kirishima knowing about your little crush and ignoring it would be too embarrassing.

“Always, Bakugou! But we’ll stop if you make us sukiyaki for dinner!” Mina bartered, sitting more upright as she let her attention zero in on her target. He snorted, shouldering his bag with narrowed eyes. You swung your attention back to Kiri, and immediately swung it away after meeting his eyes. Crap, you thought to yourself, biting down on your bottom lip. That was unexpected. You could feel almost all of the girl’s eyes on you, most likely because they caught the awkward interaction. Ochako swore that Kiri felt the same way, but you always brushed her off. He never seemed to treat you any differently than the other girls, so why would you assume otherwise?

Mina continued to plead to Bakugou, until he finally broke. “Fine! Just stay the hell out of my way, or I’ll kill you!” He barked, shoulders tensed as he dropped his bag onto the chair and storming into the kitchen. Only a few seconds ticked by with the sound of banging cabinets before he returned to the room, pan held in one hand like a weapon. “How in the fuck am I supposed to cook something when there’s no ingredients, huh dumbasses?”

Mina’s face fell. “Ah, I forgot about that part…”

“Idiot!”

Momo perked up. “Hey, it’s still early. We can still go get some ingredients, right?” She looked to her peers, who all nodded in agreement, before returning her attention to Bakugou. “Make a list of what you want, and we’ll send someone for them! How simple!”

His frown grew, but he did as Momo asked and stepped into the living room, dropping his frying pan onto the couch before scribbling down what he needed in a lone notebook. He tore out the page and, strangely enough, handed it to you. “Here. Get all of this, or else.” He threatened lightly, but the words didn’t hold the punch. Before you could reply, he was out of the room, trudging up the stairs and to his room. “Be back in an hour or you’re fucked!” He hollered out behind him. 

“I guess I’m in charge of this, huh?” You sighed, standing up from your spot on the floor with a groan. Your legs were sore, being in the same position for nearly an hour, and made your way to the kitchen where your class hid its food money, shoving a majority of the wad into the pocket of your sweatpants. You felt a presence behind you, and immediately yelped when a hand grabbed your arm.

“Woah! Calm down, it’s just me.” Kiri raised his hands by his head in mock innocence, grinning as you placed a steady hand over your rapidly beating heart. He was still in his gym clothes, red basketball shorts and a white t-shirt, although his hair was slightly damp. No doubt due to a shower he had taken after working out. You shoved the thought out of your head almost as quickly as you had formulated it. The last thing you needed to think about was Kiri in all of his bare glory, from his biceps to his happy trail down to his… man, you really needed to stop imagining that before it was too late. A hand appeared in your vision, and you snapped back to reality.

“Sorry, did you say something?”

“Yeah! I was asking if you needed some help to the grocery store! I’m sure those bags will be pretty heavy.”

He wrapped one hand behind his neck, grin softening as you debated his proposal. On one hand, you’d be alone with him for an uncertain amount of time and, while you were certain you wouldn’t make a fool out of yourself, that couldn’t be promised… On the other hand, you’d be alone with him for an uncertain amount of time. Without the eyes of your gossip-greedy friends. Which didn’t sound bad at all.

“You know what? Sure. Thanks, Kiri.” You smiled at him, noticing the way the tips of his ears reddened. It made your heart jump to your throat. “No problemo! Let me grab my coat, and we can head out!” He was as loud as always when he bounded out of the kitchen, practically flying up the stairs. As soon as he exited, you released a sigh and went back into the living room. At that point, the boys had surged with the girls, studying forgotten as a rerun of an older movie played on the TV screen. Ochako had her phone in her hand, no doubt notifying the group chat of that night’s dinner plans; a ploy to get Midoriya out of his bedroom. Her gaze swung to you.

“So! Kiri and you are going to the store, huh?” She said, and you didn’t miss the suggestive tone in her voice, nor the wiggle of her eyebrows.

“Yeah, we are. Why?” You play innocent, batting your lashes at your friend as she snickers. The familiar blonde of Kaminari pops into your line of sight, and he’s wearing a similar grin. “Oh, no reason!” He sings, leaning over the couch’s cushions on his stomach, chin propped up by his palms as he kicks his legs up and down like a preteen girl. “Just try to stay away from one another, hmm? Can’t have your flirting get in the way of our dinner, you know.”

You flicked his forehead, hard enough to earn a whine from the boy. “Shush, you’ll get your food. Jeez.” You barely notice how his eyes darted behind you before returning, and his smile taking on a more flirtatious turn. He leans forward more, pushing up and hovering his face only inches away from your own. “Well, if you ever get tired of waiting, don’t forget I’m always he-” He’s stopped as a familiar hand lands on his face, shoving him off of the couch and unfortunately leading to him crashing to the floor with a groan. You look beside you, Kiri’s hand still in the air but an ever-present smile on his lips. “Ready to go?” He chirped, and you notice how he’s switched out his shorts for dark jeans, a bomber jacket tossed over his shoulder yet unworn.

“We’ll be back soon, guys!” You shoot a final farewell to your classmates before Kiri sweeps you out of the building. You’re grateful that the nearest store is only a few minutes’ walk away; not because you don’t like walking with Kiri, but because you’ve just noticed how the wind has started picking up and your current outfit isn’t really cut out for cold conditions. You wish you would’ve changed, your wrinkly t-shirt and sweatpants suddenly looking less appetizing than they had only moments ago. You drift your eyes back to Kiri’s jeans, climbing them up his leg and chest until they meet his ruby eyes. Again. You bit your lip and looked away. Second time. I’m slipping up. You joked to yourself

“Are you cold?” Kiri asked, disregarding how you had pretty much eyed him. His attention instead shifts to your crossed arms, before moving to the sidewalk ahead of him, cheeks dusted from the cold. You were a little chilly, but you’d never admit that to him. Especially since he seemed fine. “Nope! The weather is great right now!” You exclaimed a bit more than you needed to, and to prove yourself, you uncross your arms and will them to casually swing beside you. You hoped he didn’t notice the shiver that ran through you.

“Well, at least it isn’t too far of a walk! Hey, did you understand Present Mic’s lecture today? I didn’t…” He switches the topic quickly, and you happily delve into the new subject as you try your best to explain the new information that had been drilled into your minds earlier that day. By the time you’ve finished, the two of you are idle in front of the market, and you’ve partially forgotten about how cold you are. At least, until you enter the store and you’re hit with a blast of warmth.

You pull the crumbled list from your pocket, eyes scanning over Bakugou’s scrawled words. “We might need a cart. Looks like Bomb Boy wanted everything the store had to offer.” The comment earns you a chuckle, and you take it.

“Already five steps ahead of you, partner!” You look to see Kiri already armed with a plastic cart, his jacket balled up in the corner of it.. You shift away from the entrance to avoid blocking it, and he follows dutifully, swinging the cart to his right as he glances over to you beside him. “What’s the first on the list?” Kiri ducks his head beside yours, shoulders brushing as you give him a chance to go over the list himself. You’re a hair away from his face, and so close that you can see a little scar that’s practically invisible on his otherwise clear forehead. You stare at it for a moment too long, wondering if there’s a story behind it, before he swings his attention to you and suddenly your lips are inches away from one another and your brain sort of short circuits to the point that all you want to do is close off that couple of inches that sits between your lips and-

You stumble backwards and plaster on a weary smile. “Vegetables first! Let’s go!” You rush the words out and surge forward, painfully ignoring the fact that you were seconds away from ruining your friendship with Kiri. He stills for a moment, then he’s close behind you. You almost miss the blank look that’s overtaken his usually bright expression, but it disappears too quickly for you to properly register as his familiar grin returns. “Man, wouldn’t it be funny if we got only a few vegetables and a bunch of meat? I bet Bakugou would blow a gasket!” He said, and you forced yourself to chuckle at the thought.

The first few moments are filled with an awkward silence, as you read off of the list and Kiri finds the items said. After a few ingredients later, Kiri swings his head around, scanning the store curiously. “Hey, when you were a kid, did your parents ever drive you around in the shopping cart?” The question is unprompted, and you tilt your head at the red head in confusion.

“Um, not really. My mom didn’t take me with her when she shopped, usually. Why do you ask?”

“Well- Wait, never? Dude, you missed out!”

A small smile graced your lips. “I guess I wouldn’t know, huh?” You teased lightly, but Kiri doesn’t laugh; instead, he glances around once more, before moving all of the collected vegetables into the same corner of his jacket.

“Alright, get in!”

You stare at him for a moment, eyes scanning over his serious expression. You’re still smiling. “Seriously?”

“Seriously! C’mon, it’s dead here. No one will say anything about it!”

You highly doubted that, but only shook your head before doing as Kiri asked, wobbling slightly as you climbed into the cart. Kiri’s arm automatically shoots out to balance you, and you use it graciously, appreciating the warm muscle under your palm as you steady yourself and sit down, facing away from Kiri and arms wrapped around your knees. “Are you ready?” He asks in a giddy tone, and you have a feeling he’s more excited than you are for this. Nonetheless, you nod, and suddenly you’re barrelling down the aisle, flashes of green blurring slightly. A surprised giggle bubbles from your lips, your hands moving from your knees to the cart’s walls on either side of you.

He cart-drifts the turn, and you wonder if you’re going to crash straight into the table of bananas before you’re flying once more. Your giggles have escalated into shrieks of glee, and from behind you can hear Kiri’s breathy laughter as he pushes the cart. He halts the cart expertly, and you nearly fall forward and face-first but catch yourself. You’re still laughing, and Kiri joins in with you. Despite how short the first ride was, you enjoyed it. It felt exhilarating, and a part of you was ready to do it all over again. You and Kiri made eye contact for only a second, and then you’re flying through the air again, screaming like a child with Kiri close behind.

That is, until the store’s employee just happened to turn the corner at the exact wrong time.

He seized up, panic flowing over his features as he saw you and Kiri barrelling towards him in a bright red cart. Kiri automatically hit the breaks, lurching you forward before slamming backwards, whining in pain. However, it goes unnoticed as the store clerk’s fearful eyes morph into a glare.

“Please refrain from any unnecessary activities on the floor.” His voice was ice cold, and he pointedly stared at your frozen frame until Kiri’s arms circled under yours, effectively pulling you up to help you climb out of the cart. As soon as your feet had hit the tile, the clerk was gone once more, his grumbling audible from the aisle next over. You glanced over at the red head, faces blank for a moment. Then, smiles bloomed on both of your lips, and you held your stomach as you giggled uncontrollably. “G-god, that was embarrassing.”

“But you had fun, right?”

You straightened up, noticing how Kiri’s smile had taken a softer tone as he stared at you. “Yeah, I did. Thanks, Kiri.” You had to urge to press a kiss to his cheek - friends did that, right? - and did so, pretending to ignore the fact that his face flushed red. “C’mon, let’s finish this list and head back before Bakugou blows us both up.”

You continue down the list, Kiri pushing the cart as you lead him through the store. During your hunt, the two of you go between other ingredients you could add that weren’t on the list. “What about hot sauce? Like, a really hot one?” He said, and your eyes lit up. 

“Oh my god! And what if we put it only in Bakugou’s bowl?”

“And Kaminari’s! Maybe Mina’s too, since she’s the one who wanted sukiyaki and couldn’t come get the stuff herself.”

“Jeez, that’s evil. I love it.”

Kiri laughed, and you felt your chest warm at the welcoming sound. “I’ll take all the blame too. Gotta protect my grocery store co-pilot, right?” He winked, then changed his attention to the next aisle where the cursed sauces laid. He grabbed what Bakugou had asked for first, then stood in front of the hottest sauces the store had to offer with a hand on his chin. He looked like he was in deep thought, and after staring at the shelves for a moment longer, turned to you. “What do you think is hotter, the bottle with four jalepenos, or the bottle with four flames?” He grabbed the two mentioned, turning them over in his hand as he read the labels before giving them to you. You scanned both quickly.

“Well, the one with the flames does say ‘Burning off taste buds since 1974’, so I think they’ve got the heat crafted pretty well.” You mused, handing both bottles back to your friend. He scrutinized them a bit more and shrugged. “Aye aye, captain!” He said, grinning once more as he placed the first bottle back in its rightful place, and its rival in the cart. “I think that’s almost everything, though! Just gotta grab the meat next. Man, I’m hungry…” Kiri continued to mumble as he pushed forward into the store, towards the cold section to nab the said item. Your heart sank; you were hungry as well, but a part of you wanted to keep hanging with Kiri one-on-one. It was fun. You were having fun.

However, it couldn’t last forever. 

“Did you find everything okay?” The store clerk’s voice was bland, eyes still narrowed at the two of you as he lazily scanned through the items you had gathered. It was the same man as earlier, who had caught you screaming down the aisles like a madwoman, and an embarrassed blush crosses your cheeks. Even Kiri looked a little guilty, but he tried to downplay it with a short chuckle. “Yeah, thanks! I like your watch, by the way!”

“… Thanks.”

Kiri puckered his lips in an attempt to stay silent, and you force yourself to fight down the giggle that threatened to rise. He looked like a duck, sort of; a red-haired duck. Or  a baby who had just tried a lemon for the first time. He caught your gaze with his own, eyes twinkling mischievously. The only sounds were the beeping from the register as it scanned through every item, and the low melody of the speakers playing overhead. The store clerk was muttering under his breath, and Kiri raised an eyebrow in your direction silently. “He seems upset. Wonder why.” He leaned in to whisper to you, breath tickling your ear. You grin, and quickly try to wipe the look away as the clerk glanced up at you. “Here’s your total.” He pointed to the electronic screen, and you scurried to pull the crumbled bills from your pocket, awkwardly handing them over. If looks could kill, the clerk would’ve been a murderer long ago, and you shrunk away from his gaze slightly. He moved his attention back to the register, grumbles growing in volume slightly, and Kiri pinched your side. “Jeez, be careful now (Y/N). We don’t want to get on his bad side.” You forced down the giggle, opting for a straight face as the employee hands back your change and receipt.

It isn’t until you and Kiri step outside that you two finally laughed; it’s full of hiccups and snorts, and you leaned against the wall until both of you calmed down. “I feel kind of bad for the guy.” Kiri says, and you wiped a stray tear from your eye. Looking down at your hands, you’re glad you hadn’t come alone; the bags really were heavy.

“I blame you! Hold the bags, co-pilot.”

Kiri dutifully does as you ask, grabbing the two plastic shopping bags from you and brushing his hands against your own. You felt a slight tingle from it, and drew back fairly quickly as you began to head back to the school. The wind has picked up, and as a gust sweeps by, you shiver. It doesn’t go by unnoticed. “Here, take this.” Kiri sets the bags to the ground and slips out of his coat, hanging it from his fingers. He’s looking at you expectedly, and you hesitate. “I can’t! It’s really not that cold out, I’ll be fine.”

“(Y/N), I can see the goosebumps on your arms. Just take it before I force you to.” The threat is empty, and shyly you smile as you accept the coat, slipping it around your frame. It’s big on you, not that you mind, and smells entirely of Kiri; of the musky cologne that he wore so often, and coconut shampoo. You snuggle deeper into its warmth. Kiri grabbed the bags once more. “Okay! Let’s hurry up, it’s cold!” He rushed forward before you had a chance to swat at his arm, chasing after him with a fist in the air as he laughed.

He finally slowed for you, and you continue to walk side-by-side with one another. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take a bag?”

“Of course not! How manly would I be if I let a lady carry the groceries?”

You snorted, but let the topic drift away as you look forward, lost in your thoughts. The day had gone so good, and you had been crushing on him for quite a while… Would it be a bad time to confess? If he didn’t feel the same, you knew Kiri would still try to preserve the friendship in some way or another. Just the thought of that made you wince, and you casted a glance at your companion. What you didn’t expect was to meet his amber gaze, but instead of turning away, you kept staring. And so did he.

He stopped walking, and opened his mouth to speak. Then closed it. He tried speaking again, to no avail, and instead sighed. “Man, this is harder than I thought.” He said, and laughed slightly after. His grip on the bags was tighter than before, knuckles turning pale as he averted his gaze for a second before returning his eyes to you. He took a deep breath, and patiently you waited. You felt like your heart was jumping out of your chest, but you waited nonetheless.

“It’s just… We should hurry home before it’s too late.”

Your heart deflated, and you hoped it didn’t show on your face. Instead, you opted for a short laugh, one that sounded pitiful to your own ears. “Ah, yeah… Good thing we’re close.” You turn back towards the path and step forward, silently cursing yourself for expecting something… different. What had you expected, really? A confession? You bit your tongue, dashing away the thought before it can fully form into something more.

The walk back is quieter than the walk to the store, and you try not to dwell on the fact too much. As soon as you enter the kitchen, you plastered on a smile. “We’re ba~ack!” You shouted, and Mina popped her head over the couch cushions. Most of your classmates had situated themselves in the living room, Bakugou included; although he looked pretty peeved.

“Oi, what took you so long? I thought I told you an hour!”

You rolled your eyes at the blonde, redirecting your gaze to Kiri as he sets the bags down on the dining table. You smiled at him. “Well, you shouldn’t have given us such a long list!” As you turned back to the living room, you motioned for Kiri to get into the kitchen, hoping he hadn’t forgotten about the hot sauce. Based on the gleam in his eyes, though, you guessed he hadn’t. “So get in the kitchen, Wench Bakugou!”

“What the fuck did you just call me?”

“Chef Wench Bakugou? Is that better?” He grumbled as he stood up, nearly shouldering you as he stalked into the kitchen. You jumped towards the seat he had left on the couch, and despite your happy expression, you noticed how Ochaco looked at you with worry. “Outta my way, shitty hair!” Soon after, Kiri was kicked out of the kitchen as well, grinning like a cheshire cat as he stumbled into the living room, collapsing beside his friends. Automatically, they fell into conversation, and Ochaco slid closer beside you.

“Hey, are you okay?” She kept her voice low, and you glanced at her from the corner of your eye with a sigh.

“Is it that obvious?”

“What happened?”

You sighed again, a bit louder this time, and slouched back into the cushions. “Can I tell you later? I’m just ready to eat and go to bed.” Ochaco nodded in understanding, looking over at Kiri for a thoughtful moment before switching the subject. “Since, you’re back, can you show me how to solve this equation? For some reason…” As Bakugou worked in the kitchen, you went back to helping your classmates with studying. You could feel someone’s eyes flick over to you every so often, but you chose to ignore looking up, instead focusing on the task at hand. Within the next hour, Bakugou’s familiar growling cut through the chatter, announcing that dinner was ready to be served.

You stood up at the same time as Kirishima, obviously having the same thought as the two of you grinned. “You did all the hard work, so let (Y/N) and I serve you!” A chorus of thanks resonated from the living room, and even Bakugou didn’t bat an eyelash as the two of you made your way into the kitchen.

“Jeez, they believed that pretty easily.” Kiri snickered, rounding the corner with the bottle of hot sauce in one hand. You didn’t as where he had hidden it; instead, you made your way to the cabinet, reaching up to pull down the glass bowls that resided there. However, it seemed as though someone had recently moved them, putting them on a shelf higher than usual. You stretched up on your toes, inches away from the dishes, mumbling softly about how short you were. Seconds later, there was pressure on your back as Kiri stood behind you, easily grabbing the wanted bowls from their place. Heat rose to your cheeks once more that evening, as you felt his chest press against your shoulders, crotch flush against your backside. If someone had walked in at that moment, they might have assumed that they had walked into something more inappropriate than a friend lending a helping hand. Automatically you froze, hand dropping and bracing itself on the countertop. You felt light-headed, and more so as Kiri pulled away and tugged you to turn around. He used his arms to trap you, placed on either side of your frame as he set down the few bowls he had grabbed and tilted his head down to stare at you. His eyes were burning, but with what you weren’t sure, and before you could decipher it he leaned in closer, lips hovering over your own up until-

You were the one to push forward, leaning further into Kiri as you kissed him, barely a brush of your lips, enjoying the little zap that ran through your body as you did so. He tensed up, as if unsure if he should follow in suit, but quickly made up his mind as he wrapped a hand around your waist, the other finding its way into your hair and tilting your head upwards. He pulled back for barely a moment, then he was kissing you more deeply, hungrily. His tongue ran over your bottom lip, asking for entrance that you granted. He was warm, and tasted funnily like marshmallows; a complete opposite of his quirk, really. Nevertheless you enjoyed it, and the only reason he pulled away was to take in a lungful of air, and as soon as your mouths disconnected you gasped for it. Your lips felt swollen, and in surprise you ghosted your fingers over them. Did that really just happen? You thought to yourself and, shyly, you glanced to Kiri under your eyelashes, gauging his reaction. His cheeks were dusted pink, lips bright as his chest rose rapidly. He looked just as shocked as you, eyes wide as he scanned over your face, eyes staring at your lips a moment too long. Then, he grinned.

“So… That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

You automatically felt your heart stop, staring at his face and willing him to say more. Don’t say it was a mistake, you screamed to yourself. Don’t make me pretend to forget about it. That had been your first real kiss - you didn’t count the one from first grade, which was barely a peck before the victimized boy ran off screaming about cooties - but Kirishima’s words didn’t make it as special as you wanted it to be. Idly, you wondered if that was his first kiss too. If it was, you were greatly surprised. Kiri spoke again.

“I-I mean, not that it was bad! But I had wanted to confess first, maybe take you out on our first date before doing that. Or is the first date too soon? Is kissing a third date kind of thing? Everything is so different in the movies.” Kiri began to ramble, eyes darting around the kitchen to avoid your gaze. You stared at him silently, trying to digest his words, which spurred him on to continue talking. “I mean, I almost did it earlier, too! I was able to stop myself then, but you just looked so cute with your little smile, and it was cute that you couldn’t reach the top shelf so I helped you like they sometimes do in those shoujo mangas, but I didn’t expect you to lean forward and-” He finally stopped himself, eyes widening even more as he looked down at you in wonder. “And… and you leaned in, which means…” You could practically see the gears in his head churning, and before you could second guess your actions you grabbed his face with both of his hands.

“Which means I like you too.” You affirmed his thoughts, and if you thought his smile was bright before, the one that grew on his face at that moment was a lighthouse beacon. He didn’t hesitate to yank you into a fierce hug, and you grunted softly at the force but welcomed it anyway, tangling your arms behind his neck. You two sat like that for a bit, before Kiri’s shoulders tensed. “Crap, they’re probably wondering where their food is.” He muttered, and you laughed. You pressed a swift kiss to his smooth cheek, enjoying the way he blushed over the action, before pulling away for him. “C’mon, we’ve still got a plan to commence, co-pilot.” You teased, taking the bowls he had set on the counter and scooping a serving of sukiyaki into them. “Would you like to do the honors?”

Kiri quickly pulled the rest of the bowls down from the shelf, setting them all side-by-side with one another before grabbing the hot sauce. It was sealed tightly, and even the smell of it after being opened made your nostrils flare. Kiri laughed evilly. “Oh, would I!” He added a few drops to three of the bowls, mixing it into the broth and giving it a slightly darker color before looking at his work in satisfaction.

“Sorry for the wait!” You announced, swinging out of the kitchen with a bowl in each hand. At the sound of your voice, everyone made their way to sit at the tables, chattering in excitement. Kiri was holding four bowls in his arms, and he shot you a wink before handing them out and returning to the kitchen for more. “Here you go, Mina.” You said sweetly and, her being as trusting as she was, grabbed the food with a chirp of thanks. You and Kiri leaned against the kitchen counter, eyes trained on your victims; Kiri had untainted portions hidden behind his back for them after their suffering. Mina was the first one to eat from the tainted sukiyaki, and as soon as the first spoonful hit her tongue, her eyes were watering.

“Why is it so spicy?” She whined, fanning her tongue comedically with one hand as she coughed. Everyone looked at her in confusion, up until Kaminari started mirroring her. “Seriously! Baku-bro, c’mon!”

The blonde growled, his first bite of his meal still untaken. “What are you talking about, you damned Pikachu? I didn’t add shit to it.”

Midoriya reaffirmed everyone else’s thoughts. “Yeah, it tastes fine to the rest of us, right guys?”

“Shut up, you damned Deku!”

The green-haired boy shrunk back with a sheepish smile, all too familiar with Bakugou’s empty threats. You and Kiri exchanged a look, both of you quietly enjoying your own meals with hidden smiles. You knew Mina and Kaminari wouldn’t be able to handle the hot sauce, but Bakugou was different. He’d either love it or rage about it for the rest of the week. You bounced your knee in anticipation. He took his first bite, brows automatically furrowing together before- “What the fuck? It’s hotter than hell!”

You couldn’t hold back at that point, and started giggling like a little school girl, hand pressed against your mouth to try ceasing your guilt from escaping. Bakugou’s eyes automatically sought you out. “This was you two, wasn’t it?”

“Aw, no fair (Y/N)!” Mina squealed, jumping up and lightly slapping your arm. Her face was still red, eyes still watery, but she smiled nonetheless.

“Sorry, sorry.” Kiri said with a grin, hands raised like a caught criminal. “It was my idea.” He pulled out the bowl hidden behind his back, handing Mina and Kaminari the safe dinner portions with a chuckle. They took it with thanks, but Bakugou refused the bowl with a vicious grin. “Keep that baby shit! Only a real man could eat something this hot!” He barked, before shoveling a large portion into his mouth with a triumphant look. Kiri still and, after glancing at you only once, puffed out his chest.

“Oh yeah? Well I’m a real man too!”

You couldn’t stop him in time, only staring wide-eyed at your crush as he grabbed Kaminari’s uneaten bowl and took a bit bite from it. His face was frozen in its usual smile for only a second, before it crumbled. Cheeks bright, tears streamed down his face as he worked to swallow the concoction. “S-See? Easy!” His voice cracked, and not even you could hold down your laugh as you slapped Kiri on the back for a job well done.

“Don’t torture yourself, man!”

“Put down the poison, Kiri!”

The class cackled at the red-head’s reaction, but he didn’t seem to notice as he kept his eyes trained on you. He smiled, despite the tears that ran down his cheeks, and you grinned back before tangling your hand in his. Kiri didn’t need to act manly to win your heart; he already won it a long time ago.

If only a certain blonde didn’t ruin it with: “Hey, keep that romantic crap outta here, I’m eating!”

[burnedbyshoto]

Welcome Home

todoroki shouto x new mom!reader

warnings: just fluff

word count: 2,272

A/N: I accidentally deleted the ask....requesting this....and I was almost done with it...and because it was 4 a.m. and im blind, I pressed delete instead of edit...and I didn’t have it saved anywhere...so I actually cried about that but hey, I wrote it again anyways!!! so sorry anon about that, I hope you find this

Part One  Part Three  Part Four

Shouto sat on the couch, gently rocking Kaito’s cradle as he attempted to put him to bed. A soft lullaby left his lips as he sang in an attempt to get Kaito to sleep so he could do something around the house.

You weren’t home at the moment; being that it was two weeks until you were expected to get back onto the field; you were spending the mass majority of your time training with friends and at the gym. Shouto honestly did not mind a single bit, as he was on paternity leave from his own agency, as he sat at home alone with Kaito. Midoriya and Uraraka have been over earlier and had helped to clean up the Todoroki’s slightly messy house as the new parents struggled to maintain their usual cleanliness with the baby now here.

Peering into the basket, Shouto was happy to see that Kaito was now knocked out. Standing up, Shouto made his way over to the kitchen to start preparing dinner for you and him. Being that you were working diligently and “Plus Ultra,” to get back onto the field, you had been following a really strict diet that had been personally created for your use. Today’s dinner outline was grilled lean lime chicken, a cup of vegetables, and a scoop of steamed rice. Normally the two of you cooked together, seeing that it was an enjoyable thing to do together, and was a nice way to end the day. But with these intense workouts that were making you come home exhausted, Shouto ensured having the meal ready when you stepped foot into the house.

As Shouto prepared the meal, his eyes fell onto a picture frame by the sink, and he smiled in memory. It was the same picture that Hagakure had sent through the chat, framed and placed in your house. When you had woken up and seen the picture, you had begged Shouto to get it in an actual frame, and Shouto who was whipped for you did just that.

Shouto smiled again as he remembered what it was like bringing Kaito back home the first night he was released from the hospital.

⋆✭⋆✭⋆⋆✭⋆✭⋆

You were exhausted, to say the least. You had returned from the hospital in diapers because your uterus was still shedding its layers off and it just reminded you of a period but way worse. You watched as Shouto glanced at you through the rearview mirror, joy, and mirth in his eyes as you gently stroked your baby’s cheek.

You brushed the fiery red wisps of hair Kaito had into a similar fashion of Shouto’s high school haircut and smiled, by gene selection, you wished more than anything else that Kaito would resemble his father more than you. You wanted your son to be nearly identical to your husband.

“I’m going to put the bags in, wait for me to help you take out Kaito?” Shouto says as he pulled into the driveway of your house, but exits the car before you can disagree with him.

You watched in amusement and Shouto took in five huge bags with ease only to fumble with unlocking the door. You opened the car door, and unbuckled, groaning as you scooted out of the seat. Who knew post-pregnancy was almost as bad on the body as pregnancy?

Shouto’s hand appeared from nowhere as he steadied you to your feet and he studied your face as you winced, he kissed you softly, “Welcome home.”

You laugh as you can’t help but bring him down for another kiss, “It’s good to be back.”

Shouto grabs the car seat where Kaito is knocked out, and with a hand firmly pressed onto your lower back helps you into the house.

Shouto helps you onto the couch, and you sigh gratefully as he places the car seat next to you, and you take the initiative to get Kaito out. You snuggle your red-headed baby boy into your body as your husband walks around the house putting things away and preparing anything that hasn’t been finished three days ago.

“Shoucchan,” You call out as Shouto now only seems to be pacing, “I think you should take Kaito on a tour of the house.”

You watched as Shouto hesitated as he always did when you wanted him to grab Kaito, but nevertheless, you smiled warmly as Shouto walked over and took Kaito from you.

Thus your two boys embarked on a journey around the house. Shouto went to every room in the house, explaining what the room was, it’s purpose, and whether mama or papa designed it. “And we’re back to the living room,” Shouto whispers as baby Kaito opens his eyes, “It’s the room where mama relaxes the most, but we designed it together, shocking huh.”

Adjusting the support to Kaito’s head, Shouto can’t help but stare into his son's eyes that are identical to your own e/c and shape. Shouto can’t help but think that beyond anything, he wishes that Kaito will take on after you completely even if he inherited the Todoroki hair color. His thoughts were interrupted as he felt you press your body against his.

Shouto looks down at you, and you peer up at him lovingly, “I love you two, more than anything else in this world.” You whisper as the two of your lips are sealed together again. “Welcome home, baby Kaito.”

⋆✭⋆✭⋆⋆✭⋆✭⋆

Recalling the memory makes Shouto smile softly as he looks around at what he’s cooking. He puts lids over the pots and walks away from the stove for a second, that is until he hears Kaito’s screams of unhappiness from the living room. Checking the time, Shouto realizes that it’s time to feed Kaito and that you’ll be home in thirty minutes.

Grabbing on of the many milk bottles you had left in preparation for your son from the fridge, Shouto warmed it up in seconds with his quirk before heading over to Kaito. Picking up his squirming son, Shouto managed to put the bottle into his mouth and watched in amazement as his tiny son finished the bottle in mere seconds. “Well someone was hungry,” Shouto speaks as he wipes away the slobbered milk leftover of Kaito’s cheeks with a cloth.

Shouto cradles Kaito into his chest and holds him close just before he catches a whiff of Kaito’s foul-smelling diaper. Humming to distract himself from his natural instinct to gag, Shouto calmly stood up and walked over to the kitchen and left the stove on the lowest of settings, and switched the rice cooker to keep warm before heading over to the nursery.

As Shouto changed the gurgling baby, he caught the eye of the baby monitor and smiled as he remembered another memory with Kaito.

⋆✭⋆✭⋆⋆✭⋆✭⋆

Being a new mother had its plenty of perks, but by far the worst part of having a newborn was the fact that it cried through the night constantly. At only two weeks old, it was too early to force Kaito to sleep through the night, so despite the fact, you had accumulated a grand total of fifteen hours this past week, the sharp wails of Kaito had you shooting up from slumber.

You were so tired.

Since you normally slept entangled with Shouto, he was always awake when you went to calm down Kaito and always accompanied you to get your guy's son to calm down enough to sleep.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Shouto says as he pulls your body down back onto the bed, his own person getting out of bed, “I’ll get Kaito, sleep, you need to rest more especially since you’re starting training.”

Despite the fact you wanted to follow your husband to your son's room, you found you couldn’t move, so instead you grabbed your baby monitor and watched through the night vision camera as Shouto walked in, rubbing his eyes. 

Kaito was screaming his head off, demanding attention as Shouto picked him out of the crib and held him closely. So you lay in bed, watching your husband gently rocking your son back and forward all while the monitor was picking up the conversation Shouto was having with Kaito which made your insides melt.

“You know Kaito-chan,” You heard Shouto whisper as the baby lay his head on Shouto’s shoulder, light whines leaving his mouth as he refused to sleep, “You’re being really mean to your mama. She’s really tired nowadays, and your drama queen actions keep her up.” You watch as Shouto places a few pats on Kaito’s butt who was loving the attention.

“The thing is,” Shouto continued at his normal whisper, “I love your mama more than anything in this world, and you of course, but your mama is my everything. I’m telling you this now so that in the future if you ever get mad at me for defending and siding with your stubborn mama, it isn’t because I don’t love you as much as her, but your mama means so so much to me. The both of you do... so come on Kaito-chan, let’s go to sleep now.”

You couldn’t resist wiping the tears that had fallen down your face after hearing your husbands loving words, you blamed the stupid hormones. You continued watching until Kaito had fallen back asleep and you quickly put the monitor down as you fell back onto the bed, pretending to be asleep.

Shouto crawled back into bed, wrapping you up in his arms, and you cracked shuffling around to see him staring at you with the warmest look. “Were you listening, stalker?” He asks you, knowing the answer.

“Just making sure you weren’t turning my baby boy against me.” You whisper back teasingly.

“Sorry, y/n, but we Todoroki men are total mama’s boys.”

The two of you laugh together quietly but you can’t resist it anymore as you plant your lips on his, feeling the most awake you’ve been these past few days as he kissed you back with the same vigor. You smiled into the kiss as Shouto’s hands guided you until you were straddling his lap.

“Are you trying to bed me weeks after I gave birth to your son?!” You asked with amusement in your eyes as you broke the kiss from his mouth, trailing kisses down Shouto’s neck, his head tilting to allow you more room.

“I can’t help it, I’m really into new mothers.” Shouto teases back as his hands roam your body before grasping your hips tightly, only to be interrupted by a sharp cry coming from Kaito’s room. 

You groan slightly as you flop onto your back, “I think he doesn’t like me touching his mama.” Shouto states as you laugh before the two of you get up to get the crying baby.

⋆✭⋆✭⋆⋆✭⋆✭⋆

After finishing changing Kaito’s diaper, Shouto returned to the kitchen with the baby in arms.

“Chicken,” Shouto said as Kaito pointed out towards the cooking chicken. He pointed to the vegetables, “Vegetables.”

Kaito smiled a gummy smile and Shouto smiled back pressing a kiss on his son’s cheek. Shouto looked at his phone when a text message alarm went off and saw a text from you:

running late! sorry! I couldn’t find my water bottle for the life of me ((spoiler alert it was in my hand the entire time I searched for it)) on my way home! don’t miss me too much ;) love you!!

Shouto chuckled at the message, your entire pregnancy fog brain was apparently still in effect, but he did not dismay as he set up plates for dinner, putting on the portions you required and put tin foil on it before placing it in the oven to keep warm.

Glancing at Kaito who was now sleepily closing his eyes, Shouto adjusted his grip on his son, “Let’s go take a nap while we wait for mama to get home?”

When you got home, you greeted the quiet house with your now usual whisper; just in case Kaito was asleep. You saw that the living room was empty, as was the kitchen, and you frowned. Shouto was still home, right?

Placing your gym bag by the couch, you walked to the bedrooms and saw that Kaito’s room was empty. “Shoucchan?” You called out as you headed to your room.

You opened your room door and paused in the door frame as you saw Shouto and Kaito sleeping on the bed. Kaito was curled up into Shouto’s side, whereas Shouto had a heavy hand on Kaito’s body to keep him from moving accidentally. You pulled out your phone and took a picture of your sleeping boys.

Kaito then woke up, his bed head resembling fire lit upon his head and you picked up your son from his fathers grasp. “Did you keep papa busy today, Kaito-chan?” You whisper to Kaito who was snuggled into your neck. “You little brat!” You turn your back to Shouto as you sway slowly with Kaito in your arms. 

Arms wrap around your waist and you look up to see Shouto burying his face into your free shoulder, and once more you feel content and safe as you meet each other for a kiss.

“Welcome home.” He whispers.

“I’m home.”

no bonus todaaaaay, sorry! but I hope you enjoyed this short scenario anyways! pregnancy, in theory, seems so nice, but I would literally burn the house down if I had a baby to take care of uwu but thats all for now folks :D

[reggies-eyeliner]

okay okay hi! this is me asking for a (jatp) matchup (off anon bc we’re taking a Risk!) male or female is fine shsjsh okay okay. could i also please get a band/song matchup? 🥺👉👈

i’m an istp scorpio, 5’7” with purple hair and brown eyes, fair skinned too (well im a lil paler but—)! im probably rather obnoxious. im sarcastic and stubborn, and i probably listen to music nearly 24/7. i like to write even if i rarely ever have any ideas, and i love to watch movies (horror is my fave genre but i love pretty much any!). i probably watch way too many cooking competition shows considering i do not cook. i stay up until morning and sleep in until,,,who knows when?? i *love* board games, especially clue. im not always verbal with my affection but i’ll make my friends cupcakes and playlists and give them gifts all the time so it evens out— tho i do NOT trust people at first but once i am friends with someone, im vv impossible to get rid of 🤷🏻‍♀️ i drink a lot of coffee and i think im funnier than i probably am. somehow vv energetic and not at all?? kind of loud and i tend to ramble (like right nOw—) have been called aggressive but rly im just,,,go big or go home!! all or nothing!!

as for the band/song matchup! my emoji aesthetic would probably be 😈🎃✨🔮🌙🕯🎧💫 my fave jatp song is between now or never and wake up i think! fave genre? like music? probably pop rock or alternative. and my style, if we’re talking clothes, is a lot of skinny jeans, t-shirts, any and all jackets, boots, and converse. we wanna look stylish but still comfy. as for extracurriculars, i was in drama at one point and also latin club but other than that?? i don’t do anything shsjsshj okay i THINK that was everything?? so sorry this is rly long!! tysm for your time and have a great,,,week?? month! and thank you again!!

Hey @julies-molina!! I’m so so sorry that this took longer than expected, but I hope you’re doing amazing ^^ AND WHAT PURPLE HAIR THAT SOUNDS SO CUTE OMG WHAT???? Oh yeah and make sure to hydrate and get lots of rest, stay safe!

I match this lovely person with...

Julie Molina!

TO THOSE WHO ARE ALREADY THINKING, “BLAH BLAH SHUT UP YOU ONLY SAW HER USERNAME AND-”

nO

NOOOOO

You two ooze chemistry, and I have very lovely headcanons, ideas, and facts to EFFING PROVE IT- Right, so you and Julie! To begin with, I think she’d definitely be able to look past how “obnoxious” or “stubborn,” you think you are, and she wouldn’t mind it at all! In fact, she almost welcomes it, because I literally can’t imagine Julie dating someone who isn’t expressive. She sees your faults as more of ways that you’re more you than ever, so she truly doesn’t care! And the fact that you listen to music 24/7? UH, YES QUEEN?? Istg, every time Julie sees that you have some sort of fancy headphones on, she’ll instantly take em off, yeet them onto her ears and ask, “Watchu listening to?” She loves it whenever she sees you vibing to different songs on your own, and even though you think it’s a bit silly, she loves it! The fact that you’re capable of doing so much is almost comforting or welcoming to her, so does she care at all that you might not have ideas? No, of course not! She loves to peer over your shoulder and help you with whatever you’re working on. And more than anything, your ideal date together would definitely be this: coming back after a very long night of karaoke, a bit of swimming, a bunch of food, and then just plopping onto the mattress and binge-watching horror movies. I have no idea why, but I can see both of you popping some Sprite brought to you by JATP, and no matter what you watch, she’ll make sure to watch with you! And definitely, the morning after, you two would binge watch Master Chef or the Great British Cooking show, and then try your best to recreate every single one. Never ends well most of the time, but hey, it’s fun! And no matter how you may act, she adores it whenever she sees you dancing or acting like the chaotic crackhead she loves. Julie will make sure that you two are literally the best friend couple, so you can confide in anything with her. All she wants is for you to feel safe, comforted, and loved!

Band Matchup!

YOUR ROLE IN THE BAND WOULD BE: The one who carries the entire crew without you even noticing it. I’m like 90 percent sure that you have no frickin idea how amazing it is to have you on my dash?? You’re always bringing things to life and constantly reblogging content that I love, and you’re honestly the sweetest person in the band. I definitely think that you’d be amazing friends with Alex, so you two would start jamming out in the middle, while Reggie and Luke did that very manly face-to-face rocking, and Julie led the song, and you two would just vibe. I think that by the end, the entire band ought to realize how much life you bring onto the stage! They make sure to appreciate you more than enough though <3333

Song Matchup:

THE SONG THAT I’M GETTING VIBES FROM YOU IS: Now or Never!

I’ve always seen you as something very much linked to Now or Never-- you showed up at the very start, brought the world to life, but also spread a message in between.

Don't look down 'Cause we're still rising Up right now And even if we hit the ground We'll still fly Keep dreaming like we'll live forever But live it like it's now or never

From what I think, I think that you’re honestly one of the sweetest, kindest people on here of all time, and you don’t get enough credit for that! I feel bad for anyone who hasn’t interacted with you yet because they certainly haven’t met someone as kind as you like honestly 🥺🥺 ilysm!!

I’m sorry if this was too short! Have an amazing rest of your whatever-time-it-is! <333

Requests are open, matchups are currently closed :) <3

<hugs!!> ilysm, stay safe!!

[all-hail-the-witcher]

nobody likes a claggy bit of cheese

this idea came to me in mid november while i was watching an episode of the great british bakeoff and crocheting a scarf for my sister while eating a very very healthy college lunch of apple sauce and caramel corn. someone (maybe it was paul) said the word “claggy” and i was like Wow That’s British. and then someone else (probably paul again) said “stodgy” and i was like WoW ThAts BriTisH. and then i was like you know who would appreciate these Very British Words?? my dumb friend who likes to pretend he's british. and thEn i was like Oh Shit what if he hosted great british bakeoff that would be energy oh my god. and i was About to text him that when i was like No Wait! instead of a baking competition it would be a Mac And Cheese competition because that's like,,,his wholes pride and joy. and then i was about to text him that but then i was like wAIT! this has fic written all over it oh my god i can see it now. and now here we are.

also mikey in case you didn't realize, you are my dumb fake british friend and this is your present but i mean its more of your persona slapped on race and i called it a day. its not a mothman shirt but it'll have to do eye guess

anywaymst 

enjoy this trash pile 

_________

ship: eye guess its platonic ralbert

genre: pure ass crack

warnings: uhmmm, race is an idiot, poorly written british accents, paul hollywood stare, uhhh, albert is Annoyed, jack is an idiot who makes bad mac, spot get Angryyy, idk im writing there before the fic is finished, katherine definitely knows the mafia

editing: lol that's funny

words: enough to fill a few pages but not enough to bore you to death like the metamorphosis

_________

“CHEESE!”

Blankets tornadoed around the room as Race jumped off the bed in a half awake sleepy haze, barely landing on his feet in a fight stance, wielding his phone like a weapon in front of him. He glared into the dark corners (not that he could even tell where the corners were considering that it was pitch dark) of the room before stumbling out into the hallway, muttering madly about cheese.

“Cheese...blue cheese…..string cheese…...mozzarella cheese….” Race barely heard his own half-mad whispers as he opened all the cabinets, rummaging around in the same matter a hurricane floods a basement, in a mad search for pasta. When he came up empty handed he scowled, sat himself up on the counter and yelled for the next best thing:

“ALLLLLLLBBEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRT!”

CRASH! That would be Albert falling out of bed. Race kicked his feet against the cabinet impatiently.

WHOOSH! SLAM! And there was Albert’s door opening and closing at an alarming speed.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! The pictures in the living room began to shake, announcing his arrival.

“Race?! What’s going on? Are you okay??” And there was Albert, sliding into the kitchen in nothing but a pair of socks and boxers (despite the fact that it was probably 3 degrees out), weilding a single black converse high top. Race wasn’t quite sure how the shoe was supposed to help him, but he decided to ignore it. He couldn’t afford to get distracted by Albert’s weird antics when there was a legitimate crisis at hand.

“Race…?” Albert asked again, slowly lowering his shoe. “Is everything-” “We’re out of pasta.”

“We’re- what?” The shoe Albert had been holding banged to the floor. “You’re telling me that you woke me up at” he peered at the oven clock over Race’s shoulder, “three fifteen am  to tell me that we’re out of pasta?”

“It’s horrible isn’t it?” Race slammed his head into the cabinet behind him. “Now I can’t make mac and cheese!” “W h y do you want to make mac and fucking cheese at three fifteen in the goddamn morning?!”

“BECAUSE ALBERT-” Race jumped down off the counter, “-I had a dream. A dream where I was competing on The Great British Bakeoff and I made my Famous mac and cheese. And Paul Hollywood, the man, the legend h i m s e l f, tasted my humble mac and said ‘Race. That is amazing.’ And gave me a handshake! And I was so honored that I awoke hungry for the wonderful, delicious, creamy taste of mac and cheese. So I wander into the kitchen and what do I find? A fridge full of cheese, but no pasta to be found!” He stepped closer to Albert, planting his hand firmly on his shoulder. “This is an emergency!”

Albert swatted away Race’s hand and rubbed his eyes, already turning back toward his room. “If Paul Hollywood deemed your mac and cheese so amazing then just hold a competition of your own and make other people make mac and cheese for you. That way I don’t have to go to Walgreens at three thirty.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “I’m going back to bed. Don’t make us lose our security deposit.”

Race stood in stunned silence as Albert disappeared down the hall and his door closed.

“That sleep deprived idiot might actually be onto something,” he muttered, launching himself onto one of the bar stools and opening his laptop. He had work to do.

•••

“You know, when I told you to host your own mac and cheese competition I thought I dreamt that entire encounter, and, now that I realize that I definitely didn’t, I especially didn't expect you to make me host it, and I certainly didn’t expect you to make me wear this dumb costume.” He tugged uncomfortably at the dark blazer and black wig.

“Oi mate, if you’re gonna be Sue yew gotta start actin like ‘er!” Race glared.

“But Race-”

“Thas Paul Hollywood to you. I don want none uh this ‘Race’ business,” he crossed his arms and gave Al his best Steely Eyed, Paul Hollywood Glare.

Albert just rolled his eyes and stomped off.

Race sighed happily as he turned to survey the tent in front of him. He had called Katherine last night after his missing pasta crisis and asked if he could use her Dad’s Hampton’s estate to host a mock version of the Great British Bakeoff but for mac and cheese. Katherine, like any good rebellious daughter, had loved the idea and called several of her “contacts” that apparently “owed her favors.” (Race didn’t understand the life of rich people, it seemed very extravagant and two-faced) And that was how Race had come to be standing in a tent with what could very well be the set up of the Great British Bakeoff laid out in front of him with he himself dressed in his very best blue button down and jeans, a spitting image of Paul Hollywood. Well, maybe Paul Hollywood 30 years ago.

His friends that he had invited on to be the contestants of the show were setting up at their stations. There was Jack, Davey, Romeo, Mush, Blink, Finch, Buttons, Specs, JoJo, Spot, Crutchie, and Smalls. Katherine had opted not to participate and instead film everyone to make it seem more like the actual show.

Someone (probably Katherine) had forced Albert to stand next to him to announce the signature challenge that they had prepared.

“Alright bakers-”

Race shot him a side glance.

“-er, mac and cheese cookers?” he tried to amend. “Today Ra-uh, Paul would like you to make a nice, hefty batch of mac and cheese. You may use whatever ingredients you would like, but he would like it to be cheesy, delicious, and contain pasta. You have 45 minutes.” Race could practically hear the sigh in his voice. “On your marks, get set, ba-cOOK!”

Finally, Race thought as his friends scrambled around their respective stations, I’m going to get some good mac.

•••

It was becoming very clear very quickly that Race may not actually be getting any good mac.

He wandered from station to station, Albert following begrudgingly behind him, progressively becoming more and more disappointed in each and every one of his friends. Didn’t any of them know how to cook?

“Roight Jack.” He leaned on the one empty scrap of counter in front of him. “What are yew makin?”

“It’s a surprise.” Jack - well he assumed it was Jack, he couldn’t really be sure with all the flour flying everywhere - ran around his workspace, which was crowded with every ingredient imaginable, from shredded cheese to, was that maple syrup?

“Jack for the sake of the show yew gotta tell us what yew’re makin.” Jack must not have the braincell today.

From somewhere in the flour cloud a timer went off. Jack yelped and dropped what sounded like several pots with an amazingly loud clatter.

“If you really must know - ouch!! - I’m making - god fUCK! - baked mac and cheese with a - SHIT! - crispy top.”

“Alright well,” Albert dodged a flying blob of flaming cheese, “we’ll leave you to it. Hopefully we get to actually eat something edible.”

“Good luck,” Race turned away from Jack’s workstation and leaned towards Albert as they made their way to Mush’s station. “Do we ave a foire extinguishah here?”

“I think so?”

“Good cause we moight need it.” Albert looked at him knowingly for a long minute before the two of them snapped out of it and approached Mush.

“So Mush,” Race said, taking in the polar opposite of the mess of a station that had been Jack’s, “what ave yew got for us?”

Mush smiled, looking up from the block of cheese that he had been grating. “Today I’m going to be making my signature mac and cheese with three kinds of cheese.”

Race let out an audible sigh of relief. Finally something that sounded edible!

“Is that pleasing enough for you, Your Highness?” Mush winked mischievously and Albert giggled.

Race straightened up, checking his mouth for drool (there was none). “Yes, oim looking forward tew it.” He watched as the cheese mush was grating flaked satisfyingly into the bowl, his mouth watering at the very sight and thought of cheese. Oh cheese. Beautiful, rich, delicious cheese. “Oi would like tew sample some cheese if yew don't mind.”

Mush straightened up, putting his hands around his cheese protectively. “And I want someone to slap me so hard my eyes fall out. We can’t all get what we want, Susan B. Anthony.”

“Hollywood, moi name is Paul Hollywood.” Race glared at Mush, horrified that he would decline him the judge a cheese sample! Paul Hollywood always got ingredient samples when he asked for them! Maybe he should have put more effort into his hair today…

“I know very well who you are,” Mush went back to grating his cheese. It was as if he were mocking Race with every bit of shredded goodness that fell onto the glorious cheese mountain.

“I do believe you’ve upset Mr. Hollywood.” Albert smirked. Of course he had to join in on the make-Race-feel-like-hes-being-mocked party.

“I don’t particularly care about Mr. Hollywood’s feelings,” Mush put down the grater and reached under his counter for a pan. “What I do care about is the fate of my mac and cheese so,” he stared at the two of them, deadpan , “be gone Thots.”

“But-”

“I SAID BE GONE THOTS!” Mush pointed a wooden spoon at the two of them menacingly and Race half expected sparks to shoot out of the end like some kind of sorcery bullshit, but all he got was a cloud of flour to the face and twelve sets of confused eyes looking at him.

“Uhh,” he mustered every ounce of Paul Hollywood that he could, “thank yew Mush.” Quickly he turned away, brushing the flour out of his sharpied on beard and mustache while Albert stifled laughter next to him. “Shut up,” he muttered.

“But that was-”

“Oi said shut- oh hoi Smalls!” He tried desperately to regain his composure as they approached the final station.

“Gucci Prada my fuckin clown wig I- oh, uh, hi!” Smalls quickly put the spatula that she had been holding behind her back.

“What are yew makin for uh today?” Race took in Smalls’s station. There was a wide array of cheese on the counter, we well as spices and breadcrumbs and pasta. But something seemed...different.

Smalls looked down at her feet, suddenly very interested in the carpet.. “I’m making gluten free baked mac and cheese.”

“Why gluten free?”

“Because,” Smalls glanced behind her briefly before hissing, “because that was the only kind of pasta I could find in my cabinet that's why you feet fucker.”

Race’s toes tingled with happiness. He do it! He could say the trademark Paul Hollywood meme thing!

“Now, when yew make mac and cheese gluten free it tends to get stickey and lose some of its taiste. Ave yew tested this to make sure that wont appen?”

“Y e s,” Smalls rolled her eyes. “I put extra oil in it so the pasta wont get sticky a n d there’s lots of spices for added flavor.” She brought her spatula out from behind her back in a soldiers salute. “I won’t disappoint you, your Highness Mr. Paul Hollywwod Sir.”

“Yew bettah not,” Race laughed as he walked back to his very official looking director’s chair (he didn’t want to know how many people Katherine had had to kill to get this).

“Sue, how much toime is left?”

“TEN MINUTES COOKERS, TEN MINUTES!”

There were varying screams of frustration from around the room as his friends scrambled to get done. The smell of cooking cheese wafted from several ovens and stoves and Race smiled contentedly. Twas almost Mac Time.

•••

Ten minutes later, as promised, Race was standing behind a Very Official looking wooden table with a fork and a glass of water, ready to taste (or spit out, depending on whose it was), his friends’ mac and cheese.

“Oilright, Davey, why don’t yew bring up yewr mac.”

Davey strode up to the table confidently, somehow without a spec of food on his apron, and placed down a plate of gooey looking pasta. Man oh man he was excited! But no, today he was Paul Hollywood. No excitement. Only glares.

He picked up his fork and took a scoop of pasta, glaring at Davey for good measure as he tasted.

He chewed for far longer than actually necessary to give Davey just enough time to get nervous before giving his verdict. “Whot yew’ve actually done is quite noice, Oi rather loike the blend of the cheddar and the goat cheese, but what yew’ve done is create something that’s so soft that its lacking textah. It’s loike Oi need somethin crunchy to offset it.”

Davey nodded. “Okay.”

“But overall noice job.” He nodded, the silent cue for Davey to take his dish and return to his station.

Race surveyed the contestants and grimaced. “Jack bring yew’re flamin bomb up here.”

He thought he heard Jack mutter some half-decent curses under his breath, but not decent enough for him to repeat.

A few seconds later a lump of orange stuff with green (???) blobs on top on a plate was placed in front of him. “Roight,” he sighed. “What ave yew got there?”

“Well this is my baked mac and cheese with green goldfish topping!” Jack said proudly.

Race looked at the plate as if it were a flesh eating disease that could kill him at any second. And, knowing Jack’s track record with food, it just might. “Any reason why you chose green goldfish?”

“Adds a pop of color!” Jack bounced on his toes.

Good gosh. Race took the tiniest bite possible on his fork and lifted it to his mouth-

“Make sure you get a goldfish!” Jack insisted. “Really adds a burst of flavor!”

“Oh sure, sure.” Race picked one up before shoving the whole abomination into his mouth. He chewed for a few seconds before swallowing down as best as he could.

“Wow that is pitiful,” Race coughed. “The pasta is overcooked, and the cheese, yew’ve cooked it too much so that it’s become gummy, and all the moistah has gone into the goldfish and made them soggy.”

“Oh,” Jack sounded deflated.

“Overall the textah is a bit claggy, and no one loikes a claggy bit of cheese.”

“Right, right.” Jack stroked his invisible beard.

“Overall its dreadful and Oi’d loike it if you removed it from my sights, preferably to the bin. Next!”

•••

Almost a half hour later Race was practically done testing all of the mac and cheese, save for Mush’s and Smalls’s. Along with Jack’s trashpile, Spot’s had also been notably horrible, it was somehow burnt and undercooked at the same time? Race didn’t even want to know. Crutchie’s and JoJo’s though had been surprisingly decent, and both were in the running to win.  

“Oilroight Smalls, bring up yewr mac why don’t yew.”

A few moments later a plate of mac and cheese was dumped in front of Race with no class whatsoever. “Here you go Mr. Paul Sir.”

Race stabbed his fork into the pile of noodles. “This was the gluten free baked mac and cheese, roight?” “Yes your highness.”

Race rolled the noodles around on his tongue for a few long moments while his taste buds analyzed the flavor combinations.

“Roight so, I warned yew about this bein tasteless roight?” Smalls quirked up her eyebrow. “It’s tasteless isn’t it.”

“Yes. Get it away from me at once.”

“Of course, your lordship.” Smalls snatched the plate from the table, even curtsying to Race before making her way back to her station, picking up a fork, and digging into her own mac and cheese.

“I don't know what you’re talking about Mister Colonel Hollywood Sir, this tastes great!”

Race bushed imaginary crumbs off of his table. “And Oi’m goin tew pretend Oi didn’t hear that.” He pointed to Mush. “Mush, bring up yewr creation, if yew pleathe.”

“But of course!” Mush placed down his plate of mac and cheese in front of Race, who dug in immediately. “What you have there is parmesan, cheddar, and american cheese with elbow pasta. Enjoy.”

Race let the glorious noodles glide over his tongue as his palate was enveloped in a wonderful cheese flavor. He was amazed. He was astounded. Hell he was even speechless! What did Paul Hollywood do when he was speechless? Oh right!

“Well done Mush,” he stuck out his hand for the famous Paul Hollywood Handshake. “That’s a really great plate you’ve made.”

“Oh, thank you sir!” Mush smiled joyfully as Albert tried to sneak a bite of the mac and cheese. Race swatted his hand away with his other hand.

“In fact, it’s the best that Oi’ve had today, and Oi announce yew as Star Cooker!”

The room erupted into cheers and everyone ran to hug Mush while Race quickly finished his mac and cheese. His plan had worked perfectly. The next time he was out of pasta at three am he knew exactly who to call.

•••

“Hello? Do you need help burying the body?” A tired voice answered the phone.

“Mush, it’s Race. I’m craving mac and cheese and I don't have any pasta. Can you-”

“NO!”

_________

so how bout that huh

anyway sappy boi hours heh i love mikey and im real happy that were friends cause he's the absolute best and i cant wait to meet him next week eeee

feedback is always appreciated hmu to be on the tag list

tag list

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@well-the-kids-do-too

@racetrackcook

@ughwaitwhat

@aw-jus-let-em-try​

@voice-foundshoe-lost​

@stopthe-presses

@ridin-in-style

@pinecovewoods​

@i-got-no-clue-what-im-doing​

@getchapapes

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@stellar-alpaca

@saxoph-ella

@smolcanadiankid​

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@thatfancyclam

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@albert-eats-cookie-cake​

@nico-nat

@localfakeitalian

@carryyourownbanner

@writing-makes-me-antsy

@racetrackyeetgins

[blankdblank]

My Pearl Pt 5

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 -

Tags –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @abiwim, @jotink78, @c-s-stars,  @evyiione, @deepestfirefun, @queenoferebor,  @here2have-fun, @onewithleaf 

…

All around you in the kitchen after you washed your hands you stepped to the bare station feeling all the free Durins peering at what you were doing. The apples Fili had prepeeled for you were claimed in your hands as a caramel sauce was started. Easily you diced and added the apples into the mixture while Thorin followed your instructions on the dough you guided him through how to kneed and stretch it properly before you spooned some of the mixture into the center before you tucked it into a ball and added them into muffin tins you added into the oven. The remaining bit was hastily tasted and passed around by the cooks around you all wondering how the strange mixture of ingredients could taste.

Growls sounded from the stomachs of the chefs around you when your dessert was taken out of the oven and carefully plated in a small bowl you coated with barely a sprinkle of sugar then handed over. The simple appearance of the dough puff made you roll your eyes at the questioning glance before you mumbled to Thorin, “Is everything I prepare going to get that look?”

With a smirking glance at you he caught Dis’ eye saying, “It’s finished.”

With another glance at it she turned and carried it out to the table as Frerin claimed an extra fork and stole a bite of one of the extra puffs and let out a pleased hum after adding the sugar himself. Each of the Dwarves around you sectioned it off and enjoyed the remaining puffs, leaving the last for Dis who smirked at you and said, “You should have a list of desserts we add in through the week.”

Your lips parted as she turned to share the thought with her Mother who was watching the customer through the window in the doorway and signing back their response with a growing grin. In a glance up at your right Thorin caught your eye smirking as he told you, “A well deserved chance to keep your practice up.”

After a nod you turned and helped Thorin put out the next set as more of the tables had caught a whiff of the desserts. By the hours end you had made four more helpings and passed the recipe on to Diaa before you joined Thorin to head back home again when she reminded him of your need for rest. In the car again Thorin stole another smirk at you asking, “So, lunch and a movie still?”

You nodded, “Sounds good.”

He smirked and started the drive back again then asked, “Amad reminded me of your saying you couldn’t work tomorrow?”

You nodded again, “I have an appointment.”

He glanced at you, “Something serious?”

You shook your head, “Just a usual yearly check up.”

He nodded, “Did you want me to get Frerin to take my shift again so I can take you?”

You shook your head, “I don’t think the stirrups and paper gown will be more enjoyable with an audience.”

“Oh, your women’s check up.”

You nodded, “Plus the extra enjoyable mammogram.” He glanced at you, “They take the breasts and squeeze them between two plastic plates to get the image.”

“I can make sure they are more gentle if you wish.”

“Gentle doesn’t get the images they need.” Making him sigh, “Thank you though.”

He smiled at you when your hand and head rested against his arm.

..

Back at the house you both eyed the now washed clothes that were resting across the island in your closet beside the stack of shoe boxes you walked to and eyed the empty closet. Reaching out you grabbed the first shirt and added them to the rack above your worn shirts as Thorin added your jeans to the cubbies to the left of them you asked him to add them to. After, you hung the dresses to the rack on the left of those without anything under it allowing them to hang freely. With a smirk Thorin turned and opened the first box of shoes and passed you the pair you set up on the racks before he grinned larger at the lingerie carefully placed in a basket on the island you moved to at Thorin’s not so subtle smirk eyeing his choices.

Each of which you tried on for him with the final pair being stripped off you on his path to your bed where he spent hours seeing to your pleasure and comfort. With yet another meal in bed from him in the middle, he scrolled on his phone through a few ideas for the fur wrap he wanted for you, asking for your opinion on them. With his choice selected and ordered it was now a waiting game leaving his phone on the night table to roll you over for another round at your teasing nips at his ear, ending with him wrapping you in his arms when you dozed off again.

.

Morning came with a shared shower and your pulling on your clothes with Thorin wrapped in a towel for the walk to his closet to get ready himself as you pulled on a pair of your new jeans and a t shirt. Finally you added your sneakers and pulled your hair back into a high ponytail on your path to join Thorin in prepping the breakfast Fili and Kili arrived for once again seeking another ride. A gentle peck later you split up for the morning with Thorin hoping you could make it to the Stone for lunch at least, should it go quickly for you.

Lunch came and went and as Frerin arrived for his shift Thorin drew his phone from his pocket dialing your number. Under furrowed brows he listened through Dwalin and his Nephews gathering around him curiously to the sound of cars whizzing by as you managed to fumble your phone open and shouldered it as you tightened the bolt you were working on, “Hey Thorin.”

“Where are you?”

“Um, over by Atlan square. Had to stop in at a car shop, damn brakes gave out.”

His lips parted as his stomach dropped before his blurted out inquiry making the entire kitchen freeze for a moment, “Are you alright?!”

“Ya.” A thunk was heard and you mumbled, “Damnit.”

“What is that sound?”

“Hm? Oh I’m putting my tire back on, just have one more to go.”

“You’re fixing your brakes?!” Without giving you a chance to answer he asked for your location precisely and headed to his car with Dwalin and the boys in tow and Fili now chatting with you assuring you were safe until they arrived.

The empty parking lot came into view with you parked across from the car shop that the mechanics were watching with arms crossed commenting on your ease at the task and especially the car pulling up beside you making them flinch back inside pretending to have not been aware of your place there at Thorin’s tensed rush to your side. On a jack your Jeep was resting as you finished adding the final pad and turned to reach for your tire after setting down your tool into the well used tool box beside you. Curiously he eyed the spread of tools and the oil coated rag you’d used to wipe off your hands beside a bottle of water and a blue bottle of soap for scrubbing off oils and grease while he asked, “Please explain this to me. You’re not even a hundred feet from the mechanic’s shop!”

Wetting your lips you stood and said, “Ok, I know there’s rules but I’m not going to have anyone just look at me and assume I’m a clueless wallet on legs. I spent fifty years working in body shops through my training courses and internships. I pulled in and those assholes wanted to charge me $3000 for a simple brake pad and rotor swap!”

Kili rubbed his neck, as Fili simply looked at your jeep trying to imagine what it actually cost as Thorin replied, “You have the card I gave you?”

You met his eyes, “Thorin, the parts are only $400-500 at the most for an hours job. I might not seem like much but they eyed the car spotted my earrings and smirked hiking the price that high! Just because I’m supposed to be taken care of doesn’t mean I’m going to allow anyone to abuse that or your generosity by assuming I’m an idiot. It’s a simple job, all I have to do now is put the tire back on and pump the brakes and I’m good to go. If it was something more serious I would have argued with them but it’s just a simple swap I can do in my sleep. Besides, I know a couple guys that’ll take the old scraps for a couple hundred.”

Unable to help it he smiled at you proudly as Dwalin glared at the men peeking out from the shop at the group through Thorin’s rolling the tire closer to you as he rumbled, “Next time please call at least before you start taking apart your car so we can keep watch.”

With a soft victorious giggle you knelt grabbing the tire and raising it, revealing the formerly relaxed muscles in your arms flexing, revealing the dips between the easily missed layer of protection you had making the task look as strenuous as lifting a pen from a table. Easily the lug nuts were added and tightened by hand before you lowered the jeep and finished it with the tire iron asking “Who wants to pump the brakes for me?”

Fili hastily raced around climbing inside grinning at his brother, who was just a bit too slow to miss out on helping. A few presses later you closed your tool box and carried it back to your trunk, with Dwalin adding the soap and water bottles. On your left however Thorin raised your sleeve checking what he hoped he hadn’t seen. The large thumb sized bruise drew a growling question from him, “Did they do this?!”

You peered at your arm then looked up at him shaking your head, “I had to get a shot.”

He raised a brow and Fili stated, “But it’s huge!”

You nodded, “It was a big needle.”

Thorin lowered his voice to a comforting tone, “What sort of shot would leave a bruise this big?”

After a glance at the boys you met his eye with a sigh, “It’s for my birth control.”

Kili’s brows furrowed as he asked, “Don’t they have pills for that?”

You nodded again slowly, “They made me really sick, I tried a couple.” You looked up at Thorin again, “It’s only four times a year.”

Looking you over he took in the irritation of the simple fact the process left such a mark on you but relented, understanding that it was what you and your Doctor had chosen as the best option for you. “How did it all go?”

“As well as it can, I suppose. Should get the call about the scans tomorrow.”

Kili peeked around the jeep as you closed the trunk, “Scans?”

“Just a mammogram.” Making his lips part, “It’s an annual thing, just, the full check up.”

He nodded and Thorin smiled passing him your keys as he gently nudged you to his car, saying, “Let’s get you home.”

The boys followed Thorin’s car while Dwalin shared about their shift from the back seat, only to ask after a glance at you, “Are you sore?” You turned your head to meet his eye, “Dis’ mentioned it before, being sore after.”

You nodded, “Bath usually helps.”

After a stop at Dwalin’s you were parked in the driveway of Thorin’s and accepted your keys and hugs from the boys before they took the short walk home again leaving you to be curled under Thorin’s arm for the walk inside. Through the doors Thorin watched you remove your shoes and walk to your house as he followed after, physically hurting at your seemingly sunken mood. “Is there anything I can do?”

In a glance back at him you replied with a tired smile, “I think just a bath, and, could we watch a movie after?”

Thorin nodded, “There is a tv in my bathroom if you wanted to use mine.”

“I’ll grab some clothes.”

Turning from you he went to his bath starting to fill the tub and switch on one of your favorite films just as you entered the room spotting his towel and film he’d set up for you with a soft smile. Wetting his lips he said, “I’m going to make us something to eat.”

“You don’t have to.”

He smiled at you, moving to be closer to you and brushed your bangs behind your ear, “You don’t have to eat, but still, I’m going to make us something.” You nodded and watched him leave the room. Turning around you stripped and lowered into the hot water easing your sore body adjusting to the pokes and prods and uncomfortable spreader you tried to forget by focusing on the opening credits.

With a plate of snacks in hand Thorin entered again and sat beside the tub leaning against the edge resting his arm on it and faced the film. Through it he kept glancing over you eyeing your sinking demeanor, “Was it the plastic thing?” You looked at him, “Dis said the plastic thing is the worst part.”

“It’s tolerable. I’m really ok.” His eyes scanned over your face, “I just get, I feel like I’m sinking after I get the shot. It goes away by morning, just all the hormones at once. I didn’t know if I should say it in front of the others, cause an uproar, and bring all the clan over at once.”

Gently he brushed a stray wet strand of curls back around your high bun with an adoring smile, “Anything else I can do?”

Wetting your lips you asked, “Could I sleep with you tonight?”

His hand moved to stroke your cheek sweetly, “Of course My Dearest Pearl, any time you wish.” Focusing on the film again after a weak smile you shared the snacks then climbed out dried off and pulled on your tank top and shorts over one of the more comfortable pair of lingerie Thorin had bought you. As Thorin tossed the wet towel into his hamper he drained the tub and shut off the tv and led you into his bedroom. Your former spot on his right was swapped for his right due to your bruised arm. Snuggly he curled you against his side planting a kiss on your forehead as you mumbled, “Just a warning I might fall asleep.” As he switched the film on in this room making his smile grow back.

“When you do I’ll hold you tighter. Get as much sleep as you wish My Dearest.” Planting another kiss on your forehead.

Slowly as the film played on you wrapped around him tighter making him hold you tighter in return, forcing back his tears at his inability to help you through this in any other way until he was on his side tangled with you completely and finally fell asleep himself after a long slew of Khuzdul sentiments muffled in your hair between his gentle pecks.

Pt 6

[callmetippytumbles]

A Happy New Year (Liam x MC)

Tippy’s Note: So listen, it’s been a hot minute since I did a fanfic.  Blah, blah, life. Blah, blah, busy. Other stuff.  I wanted to get back into the swing of things with something fluffy, sweet and in the spirit of the season.  Like the first fanfic, Tipsy Halle had to make an appearance.  I hope you guys like it.  I may have more stuff cooking for you guys.

Disclaimer: Choices owns this and I do not.

Words Counted: 2,135 Rating: PG Pairing: Liam x MC (Halle), Driara

Liam x MC tags: @jacksonsmaine @umccall71 @blackcoffee85 @theroyalweisme @writtenbycandy@hopefulmoonobject @mynameiskaylabella  @the-everlasting-dream@zigbadboy  @indiacater @lolablackwrites  @i-choose-liam

Fic tags: @coldcolectornight08  @brightpinkpeppercorn  @smalltalk88

Halle and Liam sat in front of one of the large pine trees outside of Applewood Manor.  Their large grins trained on the camera in front of them.

“Wishing a Merry Christmas…” Liam started.

“...And Happy Holidays to you and yours.” Halle added, hoping the huskiness to her voice brought warmth and not exhaustion.  

“And an extra happy holiday to you.” Liam cooed to the youngest Rhys, two-year-old Asher, Ash for short, who nuzzled against his mother.  The young boy smiled and clasped his father’s nose in his gloved hands.

Five-year-olds Kalilah and Zuri sat in front of them and waved to the camera. While Zuri continued to wave, Kalilah reached down into the snow and threw a snowball at her brother and father.  Zuri quickly retaliated and soon the peaceful moment descended into chaos.  Lilah had Zuri pinned within seconds.  Ash patted snow on his sister’s back leaving Halle and Liam to have a battle of their own.  

Halle smashed a snowball on her husband’s face.

“Is that how you want to play, my love?”

She didn’t finish her nod before Liam tackled her in the snow.

“Cut,” An exasperated Madeleine shouted behind the camera crew.  “So much for a regal but festive address.” She threw her hands up in the air.

Halle pulled Lilah off of her brother while Liam held Ash. They walked over to where Madeleine was with the camera crew.

“Think we have it now?”

“No, Your Majesty, we do not. We should do one more take.”

Zuri groaned.

Halle looked down at her children.  Lilah looked about ready to cry.  Zuri had his arms across his chest.  They were more than done.  Ash was also over it, getting antsy in his father’s arms.  

“I don’t think the twins have another take in them and Ash is about ready for a nap.”  

“I still think…”

“Maybe the snow fight is a good thing,” St. James interjected.  “It makes them seem down to earth.”

“They are not down to earth, they are the Royal Family of Cordonia.  This isn’t some cutesy e-card we are making for Grandma.”

Ash became even fussier, fighting his father’s embrace, his small limbs flailing in every direction.  “I say that we go with this one.  With the snowball fight.” Liam giving his final word while trying to calm the toddler.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Madeleine says with a fake grin, though the tightness in her jaw said otherwise.  She walked away with a determined stride, calling over her shoulder as she went.  “Make sure that the footage gets to the editor ASAP.  I want this on every television station by primetime and on Instagram before tea-time.”

“I am already on it.” St. James hollered back.

Now Drake was playing the clip of Liam getting smashed with a snowball on his phone during New Years Eve gathering that Halle and Liam were hosting at the Valtoria Estate.  

“You don’t get to see that every day,” Drake pointed out.  “The Sovereign Ruler of Cordonia getting pummelled with snow.”

“I seem to recall you being buried in snow by your wife and son on Instagram. I think it even had the caption hashtag ‘snow daddy’” Liam countered.  

“But I am not the king.”

“Dieu merci pour ça,” Kiara said as she joined the two men. “The last thing we need is a grumpy monarch who would spend an alarming amount of the GDP on whiskey.”

“I am not a grump.”

His best friend raised his eyebrow and his wife side-eyed him.  

“I am not!” Drake defended.  “I like fun.  Woo. Fun. Good times for all.”

“But you are my dear, and I love you anyway,” Kiara added with a kiss on Drake’s cheek.

“You’ve got to now.  You’re stuck with me.” Drake kissed her on the lips.

“Guess I am... Snow Daddy.”

“Truer words have never been spoken.”

Zuri ran up to his father, his footie pajamas slipping on the hardwood floors. “Can we do sock slides with Uncle Maxwell?”

Henri, Drake and Kiara’s son followed closely behind. “Yeah, can we?”

“What did your mother say?”

“Ask your father.”

“Did she now?  Well, I guess I do not see the immediate harm in this.” Liam reasoned.

“They would be with an adult,” Kiara added.

“You are calling Maxwell an adult?”

Henri held onto his father’s leg.  Drake saw his own eyes peer back at him as he pouted his mother’s lips.  

“Please,” the child begged with a lip quiver.

Drake sighed, “Fine.”

“Yes!” Henri cheered, his pout vanishing.

“Sock slide contest with Uncle Maxwell!”

“He has all the best tricks.”

Henri and Zuri ran off in search of their fun uncle, leaving the adults to themselves.

A waiter walked by with a tray of drinks.  Liam and Drake picked up tumblers of scotch while Kiara’s had non-alcoholic Lythikos eggnog. She and Drake were expecting their second child, so that meant no wine for her.  This led to a discussion about adjusting from one child to two.  Liam did not have much to offer in that discussion since he and Halle went from zero to two in one go.  

Halle had Ash for most of the night.  He didn’t do well with spending long periods of time with the nanny or with lots of new people in the house.  With all of the strangers in the house, Ash was especially clingy.  Any time she would put the child down to have him play with the other children, he would throw a tantrum that could only be calmed by a mother’s love.  Eventually, the stimulation became too much and Ash tired himself out.  Now Halle was free to actually enjoy the party that she planned.  

Heading towards the great hall where everyone was, she was intercepted by Bastien.  

“Your Majesty, we have a situation in the kitchen.”

“Liam!”

Bastien held his hands up.  “No-no, it’s not your husband, it’s your son.”

“What happened.”

“We can walk and talk.”

Halle entered her kitchen to find Zuri and Henri passed out by an half-eaten chocolate cake.  

“Zuri!”

“Mamma?” The boy sleepily responded.

“How did you get here?”

“Well we were feeling sleepy and Uncle Maxwell said that if we eat a lot of sugar we can stay awake until midnight.”

“Like the grown-ups,” Henri added.

“Well, how grown up do the two of you feel?”

Zuri groaned, “Well being a grown-up means being tired.”

“My tummy hurts.”

“I bet it does.”

Halle wiped the chocolate frosting smeared on the boys' faces, then put the chocolate cake in the fridge.  While wiping down the counter, she saw a sight that made her stop in her tracks.  Her eyes scanned the liquor cabinet and landed on a full bottle of her favorite, Hennessy Pure White.  Halle smiled.  I am gonna make my way back to you, beloved, she thought to herself.

Halle motioned for Bastien to grab Henri while she grabbed Zuri.  In Zuri’s room, she changed both of them out of their cake soiled pajamas and into clean ones and put them to bed.  She sent Kiara a text letting her know where her son was.  As soon as both boys were sound asleep in their beds, Halle beelined back to the kitchen.  Once there, she found the Hennessy Pure White that was flirting with her earlier.  

“Come to Mama!”

Halle made herself a quick, but potent island punch and rejoined the party upstairs, drink in hand.  

Later on that night a little closer to midnight, Liam was looking for his wife to have a moment alone but had not seen her since she made him hold Asher for a quick bathroom break.  There was a tug on his pant leg.  He looked down to see Lilah trying to get his attention.

“Ready for bed?” He asked picking her up.

She slowly shook her head.  “No. I will make it to midnight like the grown-ups.”

“You do not have to.  If you feel tired, I can tuck you in.  I am sure Zuri is already asleep.”

“I’m okay, papa,” she said before stifling a yawn.

“Let’s go find mamma though.”

“Mamma is over there.”

The room fell quiet as Liam turned his head.  Hana was in front of the baby grand piano while Halle laid atop it.  Halle perked up when Hana started to play the opening bars to a song.  Liam was familiar with the melody, but couldn’t grasp the words or the name.  Then he heard it.

“I believe the children are our future…”

Lilah buried her head in the crook of her father’s neck.

“No, mama, no,” she whined covering her ears.

“Teach them well and let them lead the way.  Show them all the beauty they possess insiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide.”

Hana giggled as Halle drew out that last note but continued her flawless playing.  

“Give them a sense of pride….”

“You have lost all of yours, Halle,” Drake mumbled to himself.  “Question is which bottle of Hennessey took it.”  

Kiara smacked her husband hard on the chest.  He responded with a shrug and finished off the finger of scotch in his glass. Liam moved towards the front of the room holding their daughter, not only to get a better view of the show but to be ready to intervene if things went downhill.  

Halle slid off the piano and approached her husband and daughter, continuing to sing.

“Let the children's laaaaaaaaughter remind us how we used to beeeeeeee.”

She booped Lilah on the nose.  Lilah snuggled into her father more.

“Every–”

“Everybody's searching for a hero,” Maxwell sang joining the Queen.

Halle strode to his side and whispered, My time to shine.

Maxwell whispered back, Sharing is caring.

“People need someone to look up to, I never found anyone who fulfilled my neeeeeeeeeds,” He continued.  “A lonely place to be, and so I learned to depend on meeee.”

Not being one to be outdone or overtaken, Halle cut back in, raising her voice. “I decided long ago, never to walk in anyone's shadows.”

Maxwell roared back, “If I fail, if I succeeeeeeeeed, at least I'll live as I believeeeee.”

“No matter what they take from me, they can't take away my dignityyyyyyy!” Halle sang back, dramatically pointing to her chest.

“The greaaaaaaaatesssssst love of allllllllll–” Maxwell sang.

Halle turned to face him, “Is happening to meeeee!”

Maxwell stepped closer, “I found the greatest love of all, inside of me”

“THE GREATEST LOVE OF ALL–”

“IS EASY TO ACHIEVE!”

They both stopped for a moment.  Hana stopped playing once she saw that they went silent.  They stared at each other.  Maxwell was red in the face.  Halle had developed some sweat along her hairline.  When the moment could not get any tenser, they broke down and started laughing.

“Learning to love yourself,” they sang in unison,  “it is the greatest love of all.”

Everyone in the room applauded the impromptu performance.

Maxwell and Halle embraced.  Halle held him close and whispered, we will talk about you leaving my son alone with a sheet cake later.  Maxwell gulped and smiled nervously while everyone applauded.  Hana stood from behind the piano and joined the two of them.  They linked hands and took a final bow.

Halle joined Liam and Lilah.  She gave her daughter a kiss on the forehead as she continued to rest on her father’s shoulder.  

“You wanted to drop the mic and say ‘Sexual Chocolate’ so bad, didn’t you?” Liam whispered.

She let out a disappointed sigh, “No need to rub it in.” He rubbed her back soothing her mild disappointment.

“Oh my God! It’s almost midnight!” Savannah shouted from across the room.

Everyone counted down the final moments of the year.  When the clock struck midnight, the first minute of the new year was filled with the sound of applause, champagne poppers, party horns.  Couples kissed.  Bottles of champagne were opened with loud pops and served to everyone.

Lilah perked up a little during the commotion but quickly returned to sleeping on Liam’s shoulder.  He and Halle brought her to bed before returning to their guests.

The party went on for a little while longer after that and when it was finally over, Liam and Halle were finally alone in the Royal Chambers.  They were in their bed, still awake, despite the long party.  Liam pressed his forehead against Halle’s.  

“Happy new year, my love.”

“Happy new year, my king.”

His hand cupped her face as he dipped down to kiss her.  She pressed herself closer to him returning it.

“We didn’t sneak off during this party to have any time to ourselves,” Halle commented.

“We are alone now.”

“We are.”

Liam yawned, “Want to raincheck in the morning.”

Halle nodded, “Yeah.”

With that, they began the new year the way they planned to spend the rest of their lives, together, in each other’s arms.  

[lovelyshadesofpain]

You Are So Strong Stiles

After we managed to get rid of the nogitsune I was left on my own. I know the things that happened while the nogitsune possessed my body weren’t my fault, but if I’d only been stronger then none of this would have happened. I know the pack doesn’t mean it, but they fear me. I’ve begun to notice the distance kept between me and anyone else. I haven’t left the house since the accident. Dad is allowing for me to stay home while I recover. I began to do my work online. It’s already been two weeks and I haven’t gotten so much as a text from anyone except from my dad, and even then it’s so he could tell me he’ll be working more hours. It’s almost as bad as when mom died.

Except now I know what to expect and im not completely incapable of caring for myself. It’s another night by myself as I sit on my bed watching Netflix. I stopped bothering with trying to sleep until my body is absolutely exhausted. The nightmares keep me from resting anyways. I eat some cheetos from the bowl next to me as I click on the next episode. I'm distracted from my computer by a small sound coming from outside. Putting aside my laptop I slip out of bed and head towards the window where I see derek standing.

Open the window, I stick my head slightly out careful not to hit my head. “Derek? What are you doing here? I thought you left? Is something wrong?” Derek made a shushing sound and motioned towards the front of the house. I nod and manage to hit my head as I straighten up. Glaring at the window I close it and rush downstairs and straight into a wall. “Whaa?” Stepping back from the wall, which unsurprisingly turns out to be derek, I peer around his shoulder to see the door closed and locked. “How’d you get in? The doors locked!” I exclaim. “Well aren’t you just so observant” Derek drawled.

Scoffing I turn towards the kitchen and grab a water bottle from the fridge. Turning around I see Derek leaning against the wall and staring at me while furrowing his eyebrows and what looks like concern in his eyes though that's impossible. “Have you been sleeping?” He takes a step towards me before pausing and just giving me that stare. “Why do you care? And you still haven’t answered any of my questions.” I look at the water bottle in my hand and hold it up to Derek in offering. “When’s the last time you ate?” Derek came up to me and took me by the arm and sat me down. I just sat there, dumbfounded. What was going on? Considering he still hasn’t answered any of my questions I decide to just sit here like an obedient puppy and look at him in puzzlement instead.

“Where’s all of your food?” Derek calls from where his head is slightly inside the open fridge. “I haven’t had the opportunity to really leave the house so the food went all bad.” I shrug. Sighing Derek shakes his head as he turns to look at me. After a bit of contemplating Derek seems to make up his mind. He gives a firm nod and starts stalking towards me. “Umm, should I be worried? You’re walking towards me with your murder face and as much as I dread life I do wish to stay alive!” A slightly panicked yelp leaves me as im suddenly grabbed and thrown over a shoulder.

“Oh my gosh! You totally just pulled a caveman on me. Though, you still haven't killed me so I'm really hoping this isn’t to take me to your evil lair where you will torture me for answers.” Derek grunts in answer and opens the door where he proceeds to lock it after himself and head towards his car. And seriously? When did he get the key to my house!? Well, at least the view wasn’t so bad. I resisted against reaching out and grabbing a handful of his ass. I had better self-control than that. There was a small movement as I was shifted a bit so Derek could reach into his front pocket for his keys and unlock his car.

Upon opening the door I was set onto my feet and promptly pushed into the car. “Hey! Watch the merchandise. Im a delicate flower and shouldn’t be treated so roughly” I said as he opened his own door and got in. “Sooo, not that I care, but mind telling me where we’re going?” I question while putting my seat belt on. Safety first! “You clearly haven’t been taking of yourself so I'm taking you back to the loft where you're going to eat, shower and sleep. Things you’ve clearly missed doing whatever it is that you've been up to.” Huffing, I try to discreetly smell my shirt when I meet his eyes. I huff again and roll my eyes at his smug expression. With a small smile, I turn my head and snuggle into the seat as we ride to the loft in comfortable silence.

Upon arriving, I quickly jump out of the car and follow after Derek as he starts trudging up the stairs after locking the car. Unlocking the door to the loft he looks at me and motions towards the living room. I walk in and stand in the middle waiting for Derek to say something. “Go into the restroom and shower. There’s already a clean towel on the hanger for you to use and I’ll leave some clothes for when you’re done.” Grinning I nod in thanks and bound for the restroom where I proceed to shower. True to his word there are outside the door and once im done dressing I head downstairs while rubbing the last of the water from my hair.

“You letting it grow out?” I look towards the couch where Derek is sitting. “Growing what out?” I rub against my chin though I still can’t manage to grow out any facial hair. “I meant your hair stiles,” Derek says letting a small smile grace his features. Smiling really does his over the top attractiveness even better. And, are those bunny teeth I see? Squinting my eyes I smile at him. I tend to be doing that a lot. I haven’t smiled in a long time and yet here I am. Barely a half hour later with Derek and already I haven’t been plagued with any dark thoughts. “Yeah, I thought maybe it'll be a positive change after everything.”

Derek cocked an eyebrow which I wasn’t even aware that he could do. “Positive growth? Sounds symbolic.” Shrugging I head over to the small coffee table in front of the couch where I grab a plate that has some good looking spaghetti on it. “Mmm! I wasn’t aware that you could cook Sourwolf!” I quickly begin stuffing my mouth. Man, I was either really hungry or this wasn’t the first time that Derek's cooked. “Umm, yeah. I used to work as a chef over in New York.” Derek said around a mouthful of food. “Wait, really? You mean to tell me that you could cook delicious food this whole time!” I explain giddy.

Oh, this is great! We could have cooking competitions and food wars!! Though, that is assuming that he’ll want me around. Or that he actually is staying. But I mean, who would want me around? Nobody else has so why would he? “Stiles? You ok?” Derek's hand touched mine snapping me out of my thinking. “Huh? Oh yeah. Sorry, I was just thinking.” Maybe he was concerned because of what happened during the nogitsune. I was barely there after the signs started showing. “So Stiles…” Turning toward Derek, I noticed that same look of concern before it left and he had a puzzled one. Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him make so many expressions.

“Yeah?” He turned a bit toward me. “I know this was all very sudden and all, but I wanted to know what had happened. It’s been two weeks and you haven’t shown up to any of the pack meetings. And every time I asked for you, I was told that you were resting. So I thought that maybe you wouldn’t mind some company.” Derek shrugged looking uncomfortable from his big speech. “Hey man, no worries! I wasn’t aware they were still having pack meetings. To be honest, I haven’t seen anyone from the pack since the nogitsune. I definitely don't mind the company” I tried giving him an encouraging smile. I'm sure he could smell how disappointed I felt. I mean, I knew the pack was still wary but I didn’t think they’d intentionally keep things from me.

Whatever, I knew this was most likely what was going on. I shouldn’t be feeling so surprised. I did kill actual people. I wouldn’t trust myself either. “You mean to tell me that nobody’s talked to you? How could they do this? They’re supposed to be pack!” Derek exclaimed. He seemed really mad. I don’t understand why he’s so angry. I’m just glad the pack is still allowing Derek to the pack meetings. Derek had his murder face going full force. He stood up and went to put his jacket on when I moved to action. “Hey! Where are you going? Derek? Derek!” I quickly grabbed Derek by the sleeve without thinking. Derek just grumbled angrily before he sat down again pulling me along with him. “Ouch. Dude, are you ok? What’s wrong?” Iask feeling a bit nervous. “They’re supposed to be pack. Not even Erica, Boyd or Isaac talked to you?” I don’t understand why he seems so keen on the fact that they’re pack. I was never really pack to them.

Sure, Derek’s pack was way nicer to me than scott was even before the nogitsune, but that didn’t mean they viewed me as pack. In order to be part of a pack, you had to be special. Not just some human who could look things up on google. Anybody could do that. “Look, Derek, It’s ok. I was never a part of the pack so it's not like I should expect pack treatment from them. Especially after everything with the nogitsune.” At my words, Derek only seemed to get madder. But I don’t think it was at me. “Stiles! What are you talking about? Of course you’re pack. You were always more pack than scott. Are you saying this because you’re human? Cause that doesn’t matter!” I look down at my hands at that.

“I know being human doesn’t matter when you are a part of the pack. But even then, the other humans in the pack contribute so much more than I ever could. Allison was a badass hunter and Danny was a computer genius. And if lydia wasn’t a banshee she’d still be a genius at everything. Me? All I’ve got is access to files which any of them could do.” Derek scooted closer to me and grabbed a hold of my hand. “Stiles listen to me. You are the best packmate anyone could have. You are so much more than what you believe. You weren’t useful just for researching skills though those are pretty amazing. You are also loyal without fault and creative and you are so strong stiles!

There's no doubt about how extraordinary you are. I just wish I had been able to tell you this before. Stiles, you are many things, but you are not weak. And the pack? What they've been doing is wrong. Never should a packmate have to go through what you did. From here on out I’ll be here like I should have been from the beginning. I’m sorry it took me until today to get to you.” I turned to Derek with tears in my eyes. “I’m really glad I met you. And to tell you the truth, I’m especially glad you came to me at this time. I don’t think I could’ve made it all on my own.”

I scooch closer to him on the couch practically leaning against his side and he lets me. “Oh, and stiles. I’ve also been talking with Deaton on how you managed to get rid of the nogitsune and he mentioned something that might interest you. But even if I tell you this you have to remember everything else that I said, ok?” Derek nudged me to respond. I thought we were done with all of the deep conversations. I just wanted to relax and watch some Netflix. Maybe even sneaking in some cuddles. Sighing and giving him a pleading look to see if maybe he’ll change his mind and allow for it to stop here. Derek responds to my pleads by nudging me harder with a small smile. How can I deny him an answer when he asks so nicely?

“What’d he say? And really? Deaton actually had a conversation with you? He tends to be all cryptic and evil with his short answers. Oh, and Derek? I will never forget what you said or what you have doe today!” I finish with a shy smile. Gosh, could I get any cornier and awkward? “Yes, Deaton is actually a very pleasant person to talk to when the person is being polite. And thank you Stiles. I hope to continue being able to be here for you from now on. Anyways, Deaton said that he has mentioned to you before about you having a spark?” Smiling at my hands I nodded along to Derek’s words. Who would have thought that Derek was such a charming man? I’ve seen him turn on that charm before but this time, it felt different. It felt real.

“Yeah, I remember him saying something about it so I could use the mountain ash. Why?” I can’t help but tilt my head to the side slightly. Chuckling at what I suppose is my expression Derek slowly placed his hand on my cheek and tilted my head straight. “Stiles, that means you have a spark. A way to channel magic. If you train and if you decide to I am willing to help unless you decide to ask someone else…” I touch his hand which is back on his lap. “Derek if I was to ask anyone, I’d ask you. But go along, continue.” Derek blushed at the tips of his ears which was adorable. “Right! Well, with the right training you could become an emassirary!” Derek exclaimed with a bright smile. And yup! Those were definitely bunny teeth. “Really? Could I be an Emissary? Thank you Derek!” I’m quick to squeeze Derek into a hug as I let out a wet laugh! Derek pulls back a bit to wipe away a few tears that were falling from my cheeks and smiles at me softly. Gosh, all of these smiles and good talks are giving me feelings that I will not be looking into until a later date.

“Alright, what do you say to some Netflix?” With that, I cuddle up to his side properly and grab the controller from the coffee table and begin to search for a movie. Derek puts his arm around me and squeezes me closer to him after putting a blanket over the both of us. When did he even manage to get a blanket? “Stiles? The movie?” Laughing I finally decide on one. I ended up having the best sleep that I haven’t been able to have in so long cuddled up tp Derek. One free of nightmares and filled with hope and promises for the future.