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btswrckd · 3 years

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War of Hearts

Mafia Boss!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

Summary: Being in an arranged marriage with Kim Taehyung does not mean you have to be civil. Or make his life easy.

Warnings: mentions of violence, slight angst, mentions of weapons such as guns and knives, brief mention of smut, future smut

A/N: I wanted to post this as a one-shot, but naturally, I couldn’t condense it enough. There’s just too much that can’t be left out. But the good news is that I’m about 90% done with this fic and should be able to post it in maybe 3 parts. Enjoy guys!

Also, title is inspired by War of Hearts by Ruelle. Go listen to her music, it’s amazing!

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“You’re asking me to do what, now?” you hiss through clenched teeth, fingers curling into the underside of the armrest of the boarding room chair. How your idiot cousins managed to both purchase a rather nice building in the middle of the city, and run a legitimate business as a cover to their true nature, is a mystery to you. Yet here you are, ten seconds from launching yourself across the table to strangle either one of them.

“I don’t believe I stuttered,” Joongki is confident in the way he answers you and buttons his suit jacket. “And I didn’t ask you to do anything, I’m telling you what’s going to happen.”

Your eyes flicker to Jeonghan as he stands by his brother and nervously stuffs his hands into the pockets of his slacks. He catches your eye, licking his busted lip as you raise an eyebrow, as if waiting for him to confirm what Joongki just said. You watch his hand come up to rub at his sore jaw and get some satisfaction as he works his jawbone back and forth.

Joongki lets out a heavy sigh as his brother all but whimpers under your gaze. He was well aware of how much you’d fight their men in getting you to the building, but he wasn’t prepared for the strong swing of your fist, or the nearly deafening sound of said fist cracking his younger brother across the face.

“We’re all each other has,” Jeonghan finally pipes up after deducing that his jaw was not broken. “This is for your own safety, Y/N. I don’t like it any more than you do but there’s no other option.”

“I will not be thrown under lock and key just because you two have enemies.” You’re standing before either of them can argue. “I didn’t ask for this! For you two to be who you are and making my life more difficult than it already is!”

Joongki scratches at his brow when a mop of messily done up chestnut hair pops up over the cubicle wall separating her from the boarding room. He waves his secretary away with a slight twitch of his lips, watching the flushing of her cheeks and bobbing of her head before it disappears. He’s too busy smirking down at his feet to notice the way you swing around the chair. Or the way Jeonghan desperately reaches to stop you from storming out. What he does notice is the small ‘oomph’ leaving your mouth when you stumble into somebody, and suddenly he’s brought back to the importance of the situation.

You don’t expect to be stopped, you certainly don’t expect to be stopped by a firm chest and steadying hand on your hip. When you finally catch your bearings, you blink up at the man that had somehow walked into the room without making a sound. It’s with a heavy heart that you recognize this man despite having lost contact with him years ago. You were children when you’d last met so it takes you a minute to see him clearly, your eyes roving all over his face. Starting with what used to be his bouncy black locks that were now replaced with slicked down hair, to the never changing intensity of his dark brown eyes, down to the defined jaw that used to harbor a little bit of cute chub, and finally back up to his plush lips that split into a grin.

“You,” you breathe airily and your stunned reaction only makes his smile grow wider.

“You,” he mimics and tilts his head playfully, eyebrows raised high in mock surprise. “It’s nice to see you too, princess.”

“Mr. Kim,” Joongki reluctantly smiles while extending his hand to greet his rival, fingers tensing around the man’s answering hand. “Thank you for coming. I’m aware that my brother and I are asking a lot from you and that this situation isn’t exactly ideal for either party, but I just want to thank you for helping us out.”

“I never said this situation wasn’t ideal for me.” Kim Taehyung gave one final squeeze to Joongki’s hand before slipping it into the pocket of his pants. His other hand remains firm on your hip, the heat from his palm burning through the denim of your jeans and making your breath hitch. “I believe my father’s been hoping to merge our families for quite some time. I look at this as an opportunity rather than a ‘situation’.”

“Yes, well.” Joongki shifts uncomfortably on his feet. The Kim family had great influence over 90% of the city and before your grandfather’s passing, Mr. Kim had high hopes of taking two entities and making them one strong force. With your grandfather’s death came the need for new leadership and it fell heavily on Joongki’s shoulders. To say he’d snubbed the Kim family when it came to working together would be putting it lightly. “It seems your father will be getting exactly as he’s always wanted.”

Jeonghan thrusts an elbow to his older brother’s arm. He may not understand the magnitude of being a leader, but he knows when to play nice, and this moment called for practically kneeling down and kissing the Kim family’s feet. He looks to the way you stand stiff in Taehyung’s arms and the curling of your fingers against his suit vest. For a moment, he considers calling the entire thing off and convincing his brother to find another way to keep you safe. He opens his mouth to do just that when Taehyung speaks.

“I have every intention of keeping Y/N safe, be it from whoever is threatening you, my own family, or even you two.” Taehyung’s deep voice rumbles in his chest as his hand pulls you ever so slightly closer. “My father may have wanted this for some time, but believe me when I say that I’ve wanted it longer. Nothing and no one will hurt her, I promise you that.”

Jeonghan and Joongki share a concerned glance with each other before your voice breaks the silence.

“Kim Taehyung.” His name sounds foreign coming from your mouth. The last time you’d seen him you were being carted away by your parents at the age of 10. The sudden announcement of your family’s move left you waving to a chubby cheeked, teary eyed Taehyung as your father pulled away from your childhood home. They died not soon after and you were taken under the care of your grandfather along with Joongki and Jeonghan. But even after your grandfather reestablished a relationship with the Kim family, you hadn’t seen Taehyung again since that day.

“Princess,” he husks out, eyes dropping to your lips and thumb stroking your hip in soothing circles as if it were going to help any. Something dark is swirling in your eyes as you regard him, and he’s sure you don’t recognize it as lust but he does. He sees it fester and simmer before you blink it away and sneer up at him.

You cousins simultaneously wince as you draw back and take one quick strike to Taehyung, kneeing him in the groin with a huff before you stomp out of the room. When Taehyung slumps to the floor with a pain filled groan, Joongki feels a bit of sympathy for him. Your temper and raging need to fight against anything and everything to do with this life will be a daily struggle. Jeonghan coughs to hide his laugh as Taehyung’s right hand man looks torn between helping his boss, or chasing you down to make sure you don’t get too far. This will certainly be entertaining to watch.

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“Let go of me!” you grunt out as Taehyung adjusts your frame on his shoulder. You’re kicking and pounding against his back with the hopes of getting free and escaping, but those hopes are dashed when he tosses you on the mattress of the master bedroom. You scramble back against the headboard as he unbuttons the cuffs of his dress shirt and rolls up the sleeves. The frustrated roll of his shoulders and neck is undoubtedly sexy, but it also serves as a reminder that you aren’t meant to find him attractive. At all. As you curse yourself for even thinking as much, he’s snatching your ankles and dragging you down the bed.

Taehyung would never hurt you, he knows that you know that, but watching the small bit of fear flitting across your face has him smirking down at you. He plants both hands on either side of your head to cage you in, hips pressed to yours as you unconsciously widen them to accommodate his frame. “If you wanted to go out, princess, then you could have asked. Jungkookie and Jimin would gladly drive you wherever you want to go.”

“Even away from you?” You glare at him, panic washing over you when you feel the bed dip and he’s on his knees, the added weight pulling you closer to him. His arms slide forward until his nose grazes yours. He’s so close that he could kiss you and you think he’s going to until his nose skims down the length of your neck instead.

“There is no getting away from me, princess,” he whispers against your skin. “I’d think you’d know that by now. You’ve been trying to run from me for the last 6 months and it’s gotten you nowhere.”

You’d beg to differ, Being underneath him was surprisingly pleasant. The push of his hips against yours made you gasp and arch into his chest. You slam your eyes shut to get ahold of yourself, silently reciting your mantra of ‘I’m not a horny teenager, I’m a grown woman, and I am not attracted to my husband’.

Taehyung could smell the sweet scent of berries on your skin from that damn bottle of lotion you love so much. He didn’t think it was possible to be jealous of an inanimate object but he is. He’s also tempted to throw the stupid thing away and burn down every Bath and Body Works store so you can’t get another one. The image of your hands slathering the cream up and down your smooth legs makes him groan and push against you a little harder. He likes to think he isn’t some creep who forces himself on a girl, and if you weren’t so responsive, he wouldn’t even touch you without permission.

A lot of men in their line of work didn’t think consent was an issue, some of them even found the fight to be a turn on, and you’re grateful that Taehyung‘s not that kind of man. In fact, he’d said on several occasions that he wouldn’t come closer than necessary if you weren’t okay with it. He even went as far as sleeping in one of the many guest rooms in the house, dropping the one and only key to the master bedroom in your hand so only you had access to it. This went on for 2 months before you’d lashed out and tried sneaking off for a night out with friends. Naturally Taehyung had hunted you down and dragged you back to the house, lecturing you on the dangers of leaving without telling anyone where you’d be. The next morning his things had been moved into the room and he invaded every inch of your space every chance he got.

You didn’t want to admit that waking up to his face inches from yours was something you’d easily gotten used to, but then again you didn’t actually need to voice it out loud. Not when you’d woken up one morning to find your legs tangled with his, your arms tossed across his torso, and clinging to him like a koala. You had squeaked and fell out of bed in your haste to untangle yourself from him. He had woken up in fear that something happened, but chuckled when he saw you on the floor, blankets and sheets raveled around your legs. Embarrassed and flushed, you’d shot him a glare as he’d gotten out of bed and strode into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

After that, you had made it your daily mission to see just how far you could push him to his breaking point. Little things such as “accidentally” walking away from Jimin or Jungkook in a crowded area, or turning down a meal that Seokjin had prepared because you were “exhausted” even though you’d done nothing that day, and even taking the hand of Namjoon or Hoseok once or twice instead of Taehyung’s when moving through a room full of people. You could see Taehyung’s frustration boiling beneath the surface and kicked it up a notch by giving your undivided attention to Yoongi during dinner one night. Yoongi of course, knew what you were doing and would have been scared of the repercussions of flirting with you if Taehyung hadn’t trusted him so much.

Yoongi played along with your little show, allowing you to lean in a little too close when talking, whispering in your ear about how much trouble you’d be in if Taehyung snapped, and letting you “subtly” run your finger across his knuckles. He had used his napkin to hide his smile when Taehyung had sprung up from his seat, snatched your wrist, and dragged you to the master bedroom. He had cleaned up the table and clapped Jimin and Jungkook on the shoulders, advising them to use headphones or sleep in the car for the rest of the night.

Taehyung had watched you stumble into the room, descending on you quickly when you had turned to yell at him. Whatever you were going to say had died on your tongue as he backed you against the wall, gripping your chin and hissing something about the possibility of killing Yoongi. You, equally as pissed, began to rant and scream about having your freedom taken away and wanting to teach Taehyung a lesson for confusing your already fogged up brain by being a gentleman rather than the piss poor excuse of a man most gang members are.

Taehyung had the audacity to smirk, fucking smirk, before crashing his mouth to yours and tangling his hand in your hair. He had tugged at the strands until you gasped and he slipped his tongue in to push against yours. He felt your hands wrenching the fabric of his dress shirt but he didn’t give you room to breathe, instead pressing you against the wall further. At some point he had started toying with the button to your jeans, waiting for your refusal, and when you hadn’t slapped him away, he popped the button open.

You had gasped loudly at the feel of his fingers, the rough pads running up and down your slit, stopping to press and rub at your clit before he was sinking his fingers in knuckles deep. You didn’t remember much else except for the overwhelming pleasure and the raspy sound of Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung echoing around the room. Afterwards, he had avoided you like the plague until you’d finally managed to corner him in the kitchen one night. You’d been huffy, demanding an explanation for his absence. Not that you’d missed him, of course. He’d said that he didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable that night and that he was sorry for losing control, to which you had scoffed. You clarified that discomfort wasn’t what you had felt, you were an adult, and just as willing as he was, and to stop tiptoeing around you.

“Princess,” the bane of your existence growls out, bringing you back to the present. He chuckles, deep and rich, and sends goosebumps across your skin. “For someone who wants to get as far away from me as possible, you don’t seem to be willing to let me go.”

You look down at your hands curled into his shirt and immediately release your hold. It seems you were too caught up in your trip down memory lane to notice. You drop your hands from his chest and avert your eyes to the door where two sharp knocks catch his attention as well.

“Boss,” Namjoon’s voice drifts through the wood, “your phone’s been ringing like crazy. Your father is trying to reach you.”

Taehyung sighs in disappointment and shifts away, pressing against your core one last time and you squeeze your legs together as if to keep him in place. He recognizes the faint blush on your cheeks as embarrassment and places a soft kiss to your cheek. “Be a good girl and do as you’re told, princess. I know you get a kick out of raising Jungkook’s blood pressure, but raising mine in the process will leave you widowed sooner than you’d think.”

You feel as though you’re finally able to breathe now that he’s out of the room and put a hand to your racing chest. It wasn’t just his blood pressure that’s been spiking lately. You sit up and tuck your arms beneath your legs, resting your chin on your knees. You really thought you were close this time around. The memory of being giddy as you tore through the airport to catch the plane to literally anywhere but here, only to freeze in the middle of the terminal as Taehyung stood in your way with his hands casually tucked in his pockets and his army of men around him. You run your hands through your hair and tug at the roots in anger, cursing your cousins and the day they were born.

Outside, Taehyung tugs at the buttons of his dress shirt while pressing his phone to his ear. “Dad?”

“Either your security system has gone to shit,” Mr. Kim calmly scolds his son, “or there’s a rat in your home. I’m looking through your camera footage as we speak, and unless I’m officially going senile, the cameras look like they’re in some kind of loop.”

“What kind of loop?” Taehyung is already making his way to the security room with Namjoon in tow.

“A car speeds past your security gate, seemingly at the same exact time every day, same make and model every time too. That’s not a coincidence, son, handle it quickly before it gets out of control.”

“On it.” Taehyung throws open the door to the security room, startling the guys watching the live feed from the cameras. “Where’s Yoongi?”

“Behind you,” Yoongi’s voice makes his presence known, trailing in and sitting at his personal computer to go through the footage Taehyung is there to discuss. “Everyone out.”

The other two men scramble outside with break neck speed. If Yoongi and Taehyung are here then something only they know about is going on, and nobody wants to get caught in the middle of it unless necessary.

“What’s going on with our cameras?” Taehyung looks over Yoongi’s shoulder at the computer screen.

“Nothing,” Yoongi sighs, pressing play on the paused screen while a miniature box with his personal coding pops up in the corner. “I noticed the same gray Tahoe driving down our street every day for the last week, and at first I thought somebody tampered with the cameras, so I built a code to filter through the system and push out whatever was installed to make this look like it’s on a loop. When nothing changed, I did some maintenance on the camera’s themselves, and still nothing. Someone is timing it just right to fool us, because check this out.” Yoongi pulls up another screen, zooming in on the corner of the frame where another car is doing a surprisingly good job of hiding. “So I can’t see who exactly the driver is, but I do know that they wait in this exact spot until the clock hits 3 on the dot. When that happens, they make a call, and out comes the Tahoe. Every. Single. Time.”

“One of ours?” Taehyung’s referring to one of the guys they keep on the property for extra measure.

“No one here did it. I rifled through their phones, computers, whatever I could and nothing popped up.” Yoongi confirms and points to the screen. “About an hour after the Tahoe zips by the screen, the car in hiding pulls out and goes the opposite direction, also part of tricking the cameras so we think there’s a glitch.”

“And the license plate?” Namjoon chimes in from the seat beside Yoongi.

“Belongs to a little old lady on the other side of the world. Looking for a date, Joon? She likes to read the same books you do and she crochets.” Yoongi jokes, “personally, I’d like a new sweater for Christmas.”

“Find out who it is.” Taehyung doesn’t laugh, not exactly appreciating the joke, and storms out of the room, throwing the door open so wide that it smacks against the wall.

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

You don’t recognize your own reflection. The woman in the mirror with foundation caked on much too heavily, curled and mascara filled lashes, and lips painted in a color that was meant to seem natural, did not look a thing like you. You’re close to wiping your face clean when the door to the room swings open and Jeonghan strolls in like he owns the place. It occurs to you that he probably does.

“What?” you huff at him as he comes up behind you.

“I know you’re angry,” he whispers, sadness in his eyes as he meets your reflection. “But we promised grandpa that we’d take care of you. Too much is happening for us to not take precaution. Everyone knows how much you mean to us and if they get to you, we’d be devastated.”

“Then why can’t I go abroad?” you ask, turning to him with pleading eyes and he takes a step back. You see tears building in his eyes as he takes in your appearance. He’s proud, you realize, as a smile spreads across his face. He’s proud of you, proud of who you are as a person despite the kind of business your parents ran.

“You’re gorgeous, little cousin,” Jeonghan lets out a shaky exhale, unprepared for the whirlwind of emotions slamming into him. “Grandfather, our parents, everybody would have loved to be here. To see you---.”

“Signing my life away?” you don’t let him finish whatever he was going to say. You don’t want to hear it. There was a time when you believed your wedding day would be a celebration, not a life sentence. You look down to the white of your dress, the gown suddenly felt too constricting and you wanted nothing more than to rip it off. “I don’t want this, Joenghan, please don’t make me do this.”

“If this were anyone else, I’d whisk you away without argument.” Jeonghan looks away from your face to keep himself from ruining everything. “But this is Taehyung, Y/N. You used to be friends and you cared so much for each other. We’ve known the Kim family for so long now that this would have happened eventually, don’t you think?”

“I would have still liked to have the option!” You stand from the chair and stalk towards him. “My friendship with Taehyung ended when we were children. I don’t know who he is now or what he’s done to get this far, but I do know that anyone willing to go to this length to get what they want is not someone to be trusted.”

“You’re being dramatic.” Joongki steps into the room and looks to his brother to find relief crossing his face. “It seems I got here just in time, little brother, you look like you’re about to hurl.”

“She scares me,” Jeonghan admits while moving for the door. “Men with guns, knives, even the occasional psychopath I can handle, but Y/N? Nope, that’s asking too much.”

You glare at your cousin slipping outside before you can say more, and you turn to Joongki. “I’m not being dramatic, you jackass, I’m being logical. You guys have hovered over me my entire life, is it so wrong to want control over at least this part of it?”

“I don’t need to remind you that this is for your own safety.” Joongki’s tone is harsh, a complete contrast to Jeonghan, but harsh was something you could fight against. Harsh, you could throw back in his face. The gentle lull of Jeonghan’s voice, you couldn’t, and often found yourself feeling guilty for hurting him.

“I don’t need to remind you that even if my parents were still alive, this isn’t the life I would have chosen,” you spit back at your eldest cousin, watching his shoulders tense. “Even if grandfather were still alive, I would have fought tooth and nail against this just like I am now. What the hell, Joongki? Weren’t you the one that was opposed to merging the families in the first place? And what, because you and Jeonghan pissed off some people, I have to pay the consequences?”

“Powerful people, Y/N,” Joongki hisses at you, “powerful people that wouldn’t think twice about torturing you to get to us.”

“So then this is more about protecting yourselves than it is me?” Your chest rises and falls with the building anger, and he looks at you with so much fire in his eyes that you’re sure Joongki would strike you at any moment. “This is about not having to babysit me anymore and dumping me off on some poor sack whose life I’m about to make a living hell!”

“It was always about you!” Joongki roars, the volume making you drop your eyes to the ground as you had with your grandfather and father. They’d never hit you, never even so much as raised a hand to you, but they were able to correct your behavior with their voices alone. “We didn’t babysit you, Y/N, we took care of you. We are still taking care of you not because we think we’re obligated to, but because you are our baby cousin. The only family we have left and someone is threatening that, threatening you, and if you think that doesn’t haunt us every time you’re out of our sight, then you’re wrong. I’d do this for Jeonghan too if I had to, I’d even do it for myself, as long as all of us are safe and alive. You want to make a mess of Kim Taehyung? Go ahead, turn his life upside down if you want to, so long as you stay under their protection.”

“I don’t want protection, Joongki.” You look back at his face with a trembling lip. “I want freedom. I want to walk down the street without your men trailing me or the fear of looking back and finding that someone else is. This is your world, not mine. This was our parents world, it wasn’t ours until they were gone. They wanted more for us, Joongki, don’t you remember that?”

“I remember their broken and bloodied bodies when they crossed the wrong person. I remember their pale, lifeless faces in their caskets as you curled up in grandfather’s lap and fought your sleep for weeks afterwards. I remember the way you screamed every time you shut your eyes because all you could see was ‘the bad man with a gun’. I remember promising grandfather that I would do whatever it took to keep you and Jeonghan from suffering the same fate that our parents did.”

You turn away from him to peer out of the window, seeing the guests that consisted solely of friends and family on Taehyung’s side. Children ran across the yard, parents scolded them for dirtying their clothes, and as you glanced around you spotted Taehyung. He was standing with Jungkook, a man he kept close to his side out of trust, nodding along to whatever Jungkook was saying. There was no denying how handsome Taehyung was, or the way it sent shivers up your spine when a little girl ran to him and he scooped her up without hesitation. You didn’t know what the little girl was excited about, but you could guess it had to do with your soon to be husband with the way she looked at him with stars in her eyes. His eyes were warm when he looked at her, accepting the little flower she’d picked from the garden around the side of the house. He tucked it into the pocket of his suit jacket, right where his heart was, and patted it gently in promise to keep it on. He set her down and she ran off with a giggle and a blush across her cheeks. You were staring too long, you knew, because he felt it. Taehyung peered up at the window in time to catch you moving away.

“Y/N,” Joongki whispers to catch your attention. “Please don’t be stubborn about this. Taehyung’s family may run in the same circles as our parents, but they’ve always been kind to us. My refusal to bring the families closer didn’t stop them from keeping a relationship with us.”

“Maybe it’s out of pity.” You try one last time to get under his skin, but you know better than anyone that he’s tired. Tired and defeated and hanging on by a thread.

“Even if it was out of pity, that’s something we can use right now.” He comes up behind you, smoothing down the back of your hair and leaving a kiss to the top of your head. He presses his forehead to the spot he just kissed and sighs. “Mr. Kim could think the lowest of me and the mess I’ve made of our family’s reputation, and I’d still take his help if it meant I didn’t lose you or my brother.”

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“You know, eventually,” Jimin sighs tiredly, trailing behind Taehyung as they walk into the house, “people are going to call the cops for kidnapping.”

“The cops aren’t stupid enough to go against our family,” Taehyung grunts out, the squirming and fidgeting nearly made him lose his grip more than once. It was admirable, at first, when you’d begun thrashing against him, believing you could truly break free. Now, it was a nuisance, and he promptly drops you on your ass in the middle of the living room.

“Asshole!” You seethe, jumping back to your feet and wincing at your sore bottom. You have no idea what set Taehyung off at the mall, but you’re pissed that he ruined the first outing you were actually excited about. One minute, you were browsing through your favorite section at the bookstore, and the next, he was dragging you out by the hand. In the car on the way over, he hadn’t spoken a word, refusing to explain himself, so you refused to get out of the car when Jungkook pulled into the driveway. Apparently, Taehyung wasn’t so mad that he couldn’t throw you over his shoulder and march into the house.

“Jesus, Taehyung, what the hell is your problem?!”

“Who was he?” Taehyung demands, shooing Jimin and Jungkook to the other room. He grits his teeth when Jungkook hesitates to move. ”Jeon Jungkook, did I or did I not tell you leave?”

“You’re pissed, Taehyung, and look like you could tear someone’s head off,” Jungkook fires right back and looks past his boss to you. You may not be afraid of Taehyung’s temper, but Jungkook is. He’s seen what Taehyung and his temper could do to things and people, and he’ll be damned if you end up hurt because of it.

“That head could be yours if you don’t get the hell out of my sight,” Taehyung snaps, “go!”

“Go, Kook,” you agree with Taehyung. You’ve never seen him go at Jungkook like this and it isn’t helping if Jungkook keeps defying Taehyung, so removing him from the situation seems like the logical answer at the moment. “It’s ok. Just go, please.”

Jungkook clenches his jaw and turns to leave with much reluctance. He’s out of sight but not out of ear shot when Jimin meets him halfway. “He’s going to hurt her, you and I both know that.”

“It’s not as serious as you think.” Jimins pats his shoulder, reassuring him that everything will be fine. “You know that someone’s been circling the house, and had Y/N not insisted on going out today, then Taehyung wouldn’t have been so on edge to start with. There’s too many people at the mall, too many entrances and exits, too many cracks to be slipped through, too many opportunities for someone to get at Y/N if they tried. Trust me, Jungkookie, this anger that you think Taehyung has is actually fear, okay? So leave them be to hash it out and we’ll go running in the second something seems off.”

Back in the living room, Taehyung is pacing, running a hand down his face, and seeming like he’s having trouble putting into words what exactly he’s upset about. When he finally stops, it’s simply to stalk towards you and stand toe to toe. “Why are there rules, princess, hm? Why do I tell you to stick to Jungkook and Jimin like glue when we’re out? Why do you think I stick to you like fucking glue when we’re out?”

“Oh, so it’s ‘princess’ now?” you scoff. “A minute ago, you wouldn’t say a damn thing, but now you’re asking me to recite some bogus ass rules like I’m in primary school. You don’t get to be pissed in this situation, Taehyung, not when I’m the one who’s getting zero explanation for your outburst.”

“I don’t need to explain myself,” he raises his voice, not quite yelling. “I need you to fucking listen when one of us tells you to do something. The guys aren’t here for decoration, Y/N, they’re here to keep you safe, but they can’t do that when you insist on being a brat.”

“I’m not a fucking brat!” you screech loud enough for half the world to hear. It’s actually surprising that Taehyung’s eardrum didn’t burst.

“Well, you’re not exactly a fucking saint,” Taehyung counters and it’s your turn to start pacing, your hands gripping onto the roots of your hair.

“Oh, my God,” you laugh humorlessly, “Oh, my God, oh my God, oh my fucking God, Kim Taehyung! You irritating, overbearing, senseless piece of---.” You don’t know what possesses you to swing your hand out, palm open, and try to slap his face.

He catches your wrist, sees the immediate regret in your eyes, yet still hauls you to the nearby wall. He presses you to the plastered surface, using his free hand to box you in so you can’t run away. Truthfully, he’d let go the second you ask, but a line has to be drawn. You have to, absolutely have to start listening to him and the other guys, otherwise something could go very, very wrong.

“Want to hit me, princess?” he hisses inches from your face as he leans in. “Want to get violent because you can’t do whatever you want anymore? That’s pretty ironic for someone who cried at the mere thought of being hit. I can barely raise my hand to you, but you can swing at me all you want, is that it? That’s not how it works, princess, I suggest you learn that real quick. Now you owe me something for trying to hit me. I let that shit go when you first kneed me in the balls, so it’s more like you owe me two, but I’m nice enough to collect on just one. Tell me who your little friend was in the bookstore.”

You’d like to think you’re not scared, yet it was evident what Taehyung was really capable of when pushed too far. He’s been patient with you, far too patient, and willingly plays along with whatever bullshit you pull for the day. It’s amazing he hasn’t broken your wrist for trying to slap him. Especially, when you know good and well that you wouldn’t hesitate to break his if the roles were reversed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. There was no friend in the bookstore.”

“The guy, princess,” he hisses, momentarily tightening his grip. “The guy in the store that was happily chatting you up. Who was he?”

You wrack your brain for this person he’s talking about and it’s like a cartoon light bulb goes off above your head. “The man who was talking to me about the book in my hand?”

“Yes, that guy.”

“He’s not a friend,” you insist, glaring at your husband, “just some stranger trying to hit on me. Is that what this is about? Some random guy trying to get my number? Your jealousy is really unparalleled, Kim.”

“I wasn’t jealous. Even if I was, you wouldn’t be the one I’d take it out on.That ring on your finger is there for a reason, anyone who can’t respect it or the boundaries it represents won’t live to see the next day. I’m asking about this ‘random’ guy because I don’t think he was random at all, I think he approached you with a purpose.”

“Contrary to popular belief, not everyone is afraid of you, Taehyung.” You relax now that he’s calmer than before. The grip on your wrist was loose and he was drawing patterns on your skin with his thumb.

“No, princess, they’re not afraid of me in front of you because they have a hard time believing anyone as gorgeous as you would have anything to do with someone like me.” He slumps against your frame, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. “I shouldn’t have scared you like that. I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” you ask with shaky breaths. It wasn’t easy to hold him up and he wasn’t even putting his full weight on you. “Better yet, why didn’t you ask him right then and there?”

“Where do you think he is now, baby?” Taehyung opens his mouth against your neck, working the flesh between his teeth and using his tongue to soothe the sting before he bites down again. He feels your fingers grip his hair, to hold him in place or tug him away, he doesn’t know. He just knows that you haven’t recoiled from his touch yet.

Your head lulls back and your eyes shut on their own accord. Your hand also has a hard time listening to your brain as it reaches out to hook a finger in his belt loop and pull him closer. He obliges, using one knee to part your thighs and press against you. The sudden feel of his muscled thigh putting pressure against your clothed core makes you jump in his hold. When he flexes that muscle, you gasp and buck your hips. So he does it again, and again, and again until you’re riding his thigh, and he’s moving his mouth to the other unmarked side of your neck.

You choose an awfully slow pace for someone trying to get off. Taehyung’s done marking up the skin of your neck with deep shades of purple and can finally pull back a bit to admire you. He presses his forehead to yours as you let out a breathless moan and your face contorts with pleasure. You’re riding him slow, but with a purpose, he realizes, intent on enjoying every single push and pull of your hips. Both of your hands lock together at the nape of his neck and you whimper at your building orgasm. You don’t recall the coil in your belly winding as tight as it is right now with anyone else. No, only Taehyung can evoke this kind of reaction.

You know he can feel the wet patch growing on his pants and you’re thankful that he doesn’t comment on it. In fact, he’s rather quiet for someone who’d been scolding you just moments before. You don’t look at his face, not purposefully ignoring him, but completely mesmerized by the deep onyx color of his pants growing even deeper the wetter it gets. You clench around nothing, nearly sobbing at the empty feeling and rocking your hips just a little bit faster than before. You want more, you need more, you need, “your hand,” you gasp out to him. “I need your hand, Tae, please.”

“I can’t do that ,baby,” he groans at having to deny you, ready to shoot himself in the foot for being all too in control. “If I touch you, I won’t stop.”

“You did before.” You want to cry. You’re probably going to cry soon if you don’t get what you want.

“Barely, princess. I barely controlled myself last time. If I do it now, I’ll take you against this wall, and then every other surface of this house. You’re not ready for that yet. You can do this. Cum against me like this, baby, I know you can.”

You’re close, so fucking close but then...

“Hey, boss-- oh shit, sorry!” Seokjin’s shoes squeak against the tiled floor as he quickly spins around to face literally anywhere but you and Taehyung. “Uh, Namjoon and Hoseok need you for something.”

“What?” Taehyung growls out, watching your entire neck and face flush a deep shade of red out of embarrassment. “What could they possibly fucking need in this exact moment that you can’t handle, Seokjin?”

“Uh, th-they didn’t say,” Seokjin stammers, silently cursing Namjoon and Hoseok for sending him to get Taehyung instead of doing it themselves. Those little bastards had to have known Taehyung was busy. And you. Oh, the look on your face when you saw him hurt his heart. He knows how mortified you feel at having been caught. He can hear the rustling of clothes as you gather yourselves, the panting breaths of two frustrated adults doing adult things, and holy crap Seokjin wants nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. “I can tell them you’re busy, if you need me to.”

“No!” you squeak, shoving Taehyung away harder than you meant to, and Seokjin jolts at the octave of your voice. “I mean, no. Tae’s not...Taehyung isn’t busy. I’m-- I have to be...anywhere that’s not here.”

Seokjin hears you run off, the patting of your shoes carries you across the house with speed he didn’t think anyone but an olympic track star had. He doesn’t want to turn around. He’d kill to not have to turn around.

“If this isn’t as urgent as they made it out to be,” Taehyung’s voice is steely, cruel as he approaches Seokjin, “then all 3 of you are getting tossed into the river, do you hear me?”

“Understood.” Seokjin holds his breath while Taehyung shoulders past him, ducking his head down and following close behind.

Yoongi is busy deleting all the footage from the past hour when Taehyung barges in. “I’m already on it, and no, I didn’t watch it. I’m not some greasy perv. None of the other guys were in here either. I kicked them out as soon as you had Jungkook and Jimin leave you two alone.”

“Right now, Yoongi, you and Jimin are the only ones safe from me.” Taehyung leaves feeling a little bit better knowing that you’d at least be spared from the entire house knowing what happened.

Seokjin stops in the doorway of the security room. “You little kiss ass.”

“Don’t get mad at me because I’m doing my job.” Yoongi smirks at him. “It’s not my fault Namjoon and Hobi threw you under the bus.”

“So they did know!” Seokjin has half a mind to pummel the both of them.

“Oh, they knew. Namjoon was actually on his way to the living room when Jimin and Jungkook stopped him.”

“I’ll kill them,” Seokjin swears, “I’ll kill all of them.”

“Seokjin, get your ass over here now!” Taehyung’s voice booms, making Seokjin jump and scurry in his direction.

Namjoon and Hoseok are in the garage, standing a few feet away from the poor bastard tied to a chair. When Taehyung had called them earlier to pick up the guy talking to you at the bookstore, they didn’t imagine he’d look like an average Joe. Guys in the mafia tend to dress nice, carry themselves a certain way, even walk and talk a certain way. But this guy. This guy looks like he could be an accountant or a librarian.

“Man, this is going to really suck if he’s not working for anyone,” Hoseok comments, almost feeling guilty. “He really could be just some guy who saw a pretty girl and tried to get her number.”

“I’d agree if he wasn’t carrying Cecil’s business card.” Namjoon hands the man’s wallet to Hoseok.

“It must be nice to have such a big ego that you’d make professional hitman cards and label them as ‘business’.” Hoseok rifles through the wallet, pulling out credit cards, debit cards, cash, a few photos, until he finally finds a little white paper with Cecil’s number scrawled across it. “I’d hardly call this a business card.”

“Hobi, focus,” Namjoon reminds him, tilting his head in the man’s direction.

“Alright.” Hoseok approaches the man and bends to his sitting height, producing an I.D. card. “Sunho. How do you know Y/N?”

“Who?” Sunho whimpers, blood seeping from his busted lip. “I-I don’t even know who that is.”

“Seemed pretty chummy with her in the bookstore this afternoon.”

“That girl?” Sunho is quick to shake his head. “I just thought she was really cute, that’s all. I didn’t know she was married.”

“Ok, then how do you know Cecil?” Hoseok moves on to the next question without missing a beat.

“I don’t, I swear!”

“Why else would you have his card?” Namjoon asks as the garage door swings open, a very pissed looking Taehyung strolling in a second later. He whistles low and grips the back of Hoseok’s shirt to haul him out of Taehyung’s path.

“Oh, hey, Seokjin.” Hoseok shoots him a teasing smile. “I see you were able to get Taehyung’s attention.”

“I swear to God, I will fuck you up right here and now, Hobi.” Seokjin glares at the younger man before turning his attention to Taehyung and Sunho.

“Sunho,” Taehyung sighs, rolling his neck and shoulders. “I was very, very fucking busy inside my home and I was interrupted before anything productive got done.” He shoots forward and braces his hands on the arms of the chair Sunho is tied to. “So you see, I’m not in the mood for playing games. I’m going to explain to you how this works very carefully. Ready?”

Sunho manages a pathetic nod and Taehyung stands straight while undoing the buttons of his shirt sleeves and rolls them up his forearms. He swallows the saliva gathered on his tongue, panic washing over him when Taehyung produces a crowbar from the workbench he’s only now seeing.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions,” Taehyung explains, pointing one end of the crowbar at Sunho. “If you answer me honestly, I’ll let you go. Pay for the hospital bill that’s sure to wrack up given what these two have done to you,” he pauses to point at Namjoon and Hoseok, “and set you up for life as an apology. Sound fair?” He doesn’t wait for Sunho’s reply before continuing. “But if you lie to me, this crowbar will be the least of your worries, definitely one of the less painful weapons in our arson. Now tell me, how do you know Cecil?”

Sunho’s face is covered in tears by the time Taehyung is finished talking. His body shakes with how hard he sobs. “He ap-approached me last month, p-paid me $3,000 to drive a gray Tahoe down whatever street his guys called from. I didn’t think anything of it, until it got really weird. I noticed they’d only call me once a day at 2 or 2:30, tell me to wait at the end of your block until it hit 3 on the hour and then drive past the gate. They gave me your wife’s picture and told me to keep an eye out for her. When I realized they were stalking her, I thought I should warn her.”

“So you followed us to the mall?” Taehyung asks, crouching down to look Sunho in the eye. He uses the end of the crowbar to lift Sunho’s chin up. “What did you say to her?”

“I didn’t know what I could say,” Sunho sobs harder. “I mean, I-I was helping them stalk her. She’d think I was crazy if I just came right out and said it. So, I just walked up and asked her about the book she had. I didn’t know what the fucking title was, I just knew she had to be warned. I didn’t get that far before you came up and took her away.”

“Did Cecil tell you what he wanted with her?”

“No. Just to drive the car and watch out for her.”

Taehyung looks back to Hoseok, taking the picture from his outstretched hand. He observes the photo quietly. “These your kids, Sunho?”

“Yes.” Sunho’s bottom lip trembles. “Please don’t hurt them! Please! They’re just kids to a shitty father drowning in debt. They didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Did Cecil threaten them?” Seokjin comes up behind Taehyung, scanning the faces of two kids that couldn’t more than 8 and 10 years old.

“He said I could either take the job willingly,” Sunho cries, snot and tears mixing together at his top lip, “or I could watch him torture my kids until I accept it.”

“Where are they now?”

“Their grandparents’ house. Their mother died 3 years ago, it’s just me and them. I gave them to their grandmother the same day Cecil came to me.”

“Why you?” Hoseok wonders aloud. “There’s professionals out there to get jobs like this done. Hell, even Cecil’s guys, as dumb as they are, could do a better job than you did. Their morality wouldn’t get in the way either, that’s for sure. So what makes you so special for a job like this?”

“My kids’ mother.” Sunho releases a fresh round of tears. “She was a girl he’d taken care of in her teenage years when she was a waitress at some dingy dive bar. There was an accident 3 years ago. A head on collision with a drunk driver. Cecil hates that I survived but she didn’t. This is his way of getting back at me, I guess.”

Taehyung stands, makes his way to the workbench, and drops the crowbar on it. He braces his hands against the bench as Namjoon steps up next to him. “Yoongi?”

“Pulled up hospital records, a death certificate, and foreclosure notices on the house,” Namjoon confirms Sunho’s story. “It all checks out.”

“Get the kids, take Sunho, and get them as far away from here as possible. We’ll clean up his debt and set him up with enough to get himself started again.” Taehyung nods at Namjoon, but stops him before he gets too far away. “You make sure he understands that he needs to get his shit together. And to call us if anything happens, we’ll move his family again if we have to. Go.”

Namjoon gestures Hoseok to follow his lead, untying Sunho and ushering him into one of the many SUVs in the garage. He slides into the driver’s seat as Hoseok jumps into the passenger side, and he backs out of the garage to start his orders.

“Think Cecil would know we’d look into Sunho and set up fake accounts?” Seokjin asks Taehyung, following him on their way out of the garage.

“Yoongi will catch it if anything is fake.” Taehyung undoes the top three buttons on his dress shirt. It’s late, he’s exhausted, and he just wants to climb into bed next to you as soon as possible.

“Do you think Cecil’s after Y/N herself, or just trying to get to the Seong brothers?”

“We’ll be finding out soon.” Taehyung claps Seokjin on the shoulder before going his separate way. “And yes, Seokjin, it was important, so you can sleep peacefully knowing that you get to see tomorrow.”

You’re sitting cross-legged in the middle of the king size bed, crossword book out, and pencil scribbling across the empty spaces, when Taehyung comes back into the room. You want to say something, want to talk about what happened, but it wasn’t the first time the two of you had gotten a little too carried away. Well, more so you than him earlier when you’d begged for his touch, and then Seokjin had walked in. You’ve never, in your entire life, been more humiliated and turned on at the same time, and some part of your brain insists that it really wouldn’t have been bad if Seokjin hadn’t interrupted. You certainly wouldn’t have had to take a cold shower, that’s for sure.

“You’re still up,” Taehyung comments softly as if he hadn’t seen the light peeking out from underneath the door. He’d dismissed Jungkook before opening the door, expecting you to have simply fallen asleep while reading as usual. He’s unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it from his shoulders when his ears pick up the rustling of bedsheets.

His back muscles flex with each move and you bite down on your tongue for composure. “You didn’t apologize to Kook for snapping at him earlier.”

“Jungkook understands that when he’s told to do something, he does it. If he wants to fight back against his orders and be a rebel, then he’s going to be treated as such.” Taehyung unclasps the watch on his wrist, setting it down on the dresser. “If sometimes I go too far, they don’t expect an apology.”

“Because you don’t know how to give one?” Your tone is sarcastic and it makes him smile even though you can’t see his face. “Or you just don’t want to?”

“Because I don’t need to.” His hands reach for his belt, unbuckling the leather band and sliding it out from the loops of his pants. “We’ve been a tight group for a long time, but I’m still their boss and sometimes I need to be more strict than usual. The fact that Jungkook hasn’t been strung up by his feet and left to bleed out for arguing with me earlier says a lot already.”

“I know,” you answer immediately, having seen that very scenario dozens of times before either by accident or because your grandfather wanted to remind you and your cousins of what happens to people that can no longer be trusted. “This is the only time Jungkook’s gone against you, Taehyung, you know that.”

Taehyung whirls around to face you, understanding and patience written all over his face. “I need to make sure that it stays the only time he’ll go against me. The only reason he isn’t dead now is because it was on your behalf, which is his job. Yes, it’s unfair of me to be pissed at him for doing exactly what he’s supposed to, but when you’re with me there’s nothing to be afraid of and he needs to understand that.”

“Something in you scared him today,” you argue as he turns back to the dresser, pulling out a pair of sweats and plain gray t-shirt. “Something in you scared me. It’s like a switch went off inside of your head and you became an entirely different person.”

“I am who I need to be when the situation calls for it.” Taehyung steps up to the bed and braces one arm on the mattress as he leans closer, touching his forehead to yours. “I didn’t mean to scare you, princess, that’s my fault and I’m sorry. I want to say you’ll never have to see it again, but you know as well as I do that it would be a lie. What I can tell you is that it won’t always happen, I swear that to you. Right now, with whatever Joongki and Jeonghan have going on, and the spike in threats against your family, the boys and I are on edge more than normal.” He cups your face with his other hand after dropping his spare clothes to the bed. “It won’t always be this way.”

You don’t know what you’ve done in your past life to have fallen into the Kim family, or what you did to deserve one of the rarer, kinder mafia bosses that is Kim Taehyung. You’ve come to realize that you don’t hate Taehyung or any of the boys, but you hate the circumstances behind your being in his home. You’ve always detested this life and after your grandfather’s death, you vowed to get away from it. You didn’t take into account how quick Joongki would jump to throw you under lock and key, only ever gifting the small amount of freedom that came with having to attend your full time job.

Taehyung hadn’t expected your kiss, the soft press of your lips against his and the touch of your fingers wrapping around his wrist has goosebumps rising on his skin. You don’t kiss him often, only when you’re out at a charity event or at dinner with his parents, and even then it’s a small peck to keep up appearances. You push your tongue against his and he groans, slipping his fingers into your hair and stepping back as you rise up to your knees. The soft pads of your fingers trace up the path of his jawline until they tangle in his soft black locks, and then you’re tugging on the strands to tip his head back.

His other hand is at your hip, thumb slipping beneath the hem of your pajama shirt to rub circles in your skin. He doesn’t know what brought on this sudden affection, but he isn’t complaining. Your fingers card through his hair, one hand tracing down the broad plain of his chest and bare skin burning the tips of your fingers as they reach the waistband of his pants. He hisses out a small ‘fuck’ against your mouth when your hand slips into his boxers, toying with the length of him. Holy shit, he’s huge, and you moan into another kiss as you have a hard time wrapping your fingers around his cock. He’s thick and long, you note, using the tips of your nails to gently trace the veins running along his shaft. Precum pools at the tip and you circle your thumb around him to gather enough of it before pumping your hand down, then back up, and then back down again.

“What are you doing, princess?” Taehyung nearly chokes on the words as he pulls away from the kiss. You’ve built up a steady rhythm and he’s very near collapsing to his knees if you keep this up. He grits his teeth as the hand in his hair dives into his boxers to join the other, pumping along his cock in tandem. His fingers tighten in your hair, twisting the locks at the base of your neck and you gasp gently at the feeling.

“Earlier, in the living room,” you whisper against his lips, “I was so close to coming against your thigh, but then Seokjin walked in.”

“To be fair,” he growls out and bucks his hips against your hands, “I threatened to kill him for it, so---.” He does choke this time as you squeeze him just a little harder.

“You know what happened when I came back to the room, Tae?” You give him a sweet smile, but you know he can see the devious intentions behind it. “I got stuck having to take a cold shower. I’d blame Jin, but you’re the one who started it, aren’t you?”

“Baby,” he groans, “please don’t---.”

You’re pulling back, taking your hands with you, and falling back onto the mattress before he can finish his plea. You bounce slightly against the bed as you giggle at the death glare he gives you, his chest is heaving and a thin sheen of sweat coats his brow. “Not so fun when it’s you, is it, Tae?”

Taehyung heaves out a shaky breath and runs a hand through his hair. “Alright, fine. I take responsibility for leaving you the way I did.” He snatches your ankles, chuckling at the yelp that leaves you, and drags you down the bed. He spreads your thighs to make room for his hips and rocks against you. The thin material of your pajama pants does nothing to shield the feeling of his hard on pushing against your clothed core. You still feel every inch of him and your mouth drops open as he grinds his hips. “But what you call punishment, I call a reward, princess.”

He’s gone in the blink of an eye, his laugh echoing from the bathroom, and you bolt up to hurl a pillow at the door. Why is he so much better at this than you are?!

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

Taehyung’s home is gorgeous. Well, you suppose it’s your home now too, but the fact that you’re about to be thrown into a house full of strange men and monitored 24 hours a day, doesn’t take away from its beauty. You thought the security gates were a little much when Jungkook first drove through them, yet it’s clear now why they’re necessary. A two story estate looms over you as Jungkook opens the SUV door so you can climb out.

“Welcome home, princess.” Taehyung stands in the middle of the foyer, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his dress pants. He’d had every intention of being with you in that SUV after the reception, but his father had hauled him away for some ‘unfinished business’ with the Ahn family.

“More like a prison,” you mutter while Jungkook takes the backpack hanging from your shoulder. He hoists it over his own and grabs the handle of your rolling suitcase, waiting to see what your next move is. “The word ‘home’ doesn’t exactly come to mind, Kim.”

Taehyung hums, crossing the foyer in quick strides before he’s gripping your chin and pulling you so close that you stand on the tips of your toes. He feels the clenching of your jaw against his fingers and briefly worries that you’ll end up chipping a tooth with how hard you grind your teeth together. “Call it what you want, Y/N, but this is where you’ll be for a very long time. I suggest you get used to it.”

“Boss.” Jungkook clears his throat, eyes darting to the strong grip Taehyung has on your face before they’re matching his gaze. The slight tilting of his head serves as a warning and Taehyung nods in recognition before releasing his hold. When Jungkook had first been told that he would be your personal guard from now on, he vowed to do his best, even if it meant going against Taehyung from time to time.

You sneer at Taehyung when he smiles at Jungkook. Whatever passes between them in the look they share is unclear, and it bothers you. If Taehyung’s rough handling was meant to scare you, and Jungkook’s swift response to it was meant to deter that fear, then they were both failing. Miserably. It’s not that you’re afraid of Taehyung, that couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s how quick he can be at changing his entire persona in a matter of seconds.

Jungkook puts his free hand on the small of your back to guide you forward, leaving the foyer and entering the living room. He watches you scan the surroundings, gaze lingering a little too long on the loose objects Taehyung has chosen to decorate with. He makes a mental note to have those removed for the time being until you’re settled in enough to not try and kill Taehyung. It’s understandable that you’re frustrated, and angry, and hurt, but it’s also easy for those feelings to boil over and turn into something disastrous. He leads you through the room to the adjoining dining room, then the kitchen, and finally stopping at a door.

“It’s your room,” he explains as he opens the door and shuffles inside the much too big room meant for you. It’s bigger than the entirety of your last two apartments combined. He sets your backpack on the bed before rolling your suitcase over to the dresser in the corner of the room. Leaving the suitcase be for you to unpack at your leisure, he moves for the bathroom that you didn’t even notice was there at first. He comes out soon after and pulls open the doors to the walk-in closet, scanning it from top to bottom.

He’s checking for anything out of place, you realize, as Jungkook seems satisfied enough to make his way back to you. He isn’t anything like you imagined Taehyung’s men would be, the first couple of encounters with him should have been enough to tell you that. You had just been so adamant in hating this part of it to realize that Jungkook would most likely end up being your only friend. Your actual friends weren’t invited to the wedding out of fear of who may have been there. Exposing them to this life was never an option and you’d been doing a damn fine job of it since high school. Until Jeonghan had spilled the beans about your upcoming nuptials and the girls became giddy. Their faces had dropped when you lied that only a handful of people could attend, and they weren’t on the guest list. It took weeks of groveling for them to finally cave and forgive you.

“Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice snaps you from your thoughts. He quirks a brow when you shake your head in apology. “Are you alright?”

“I was just thinking,” you say, letting your eyes float around the room once more. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

“Of course.”

“Not just for checking the room,” you clarify, “but for not making me feel so out of place. I really appreciate it.”

“Jungkookie’s always been good at making people comfortable,” a voice has you spinning around quickly, a hand pressed to your racing heart. The owner of the voice beams like he’s just won the lottery, clearly amused at successfully scaring you. “Y/N. I’m Park Jimin. I’ll be accompanying you and Jungkook every time we leave the grounds.”

“Right,” you heave. Catching your breath seems to be a new level of difficulty for some reason. Well, there was one reason, actually.

Taehyung had been right behind you and Jungkook the entire time. Quietly observing you and the reaction you’d have to the house. He’d also been leaning against the doorjamb while Jungkook combed through the room. Which means he’d also heard your gratitude for the younger man and you pale at the thought of what might happen to Jungkook now. Not all bosses like when their wives become chummy with other men, especially if it’s a man they trust, and you fear you may have gotten Jungkook in trouble.

“Do you think of Jungkookie as comfortable, princess?” Taehyung pins you with a stare that you can’t quite decipher. He sees the look of panic in your eyes as you struggle for words. When you open your mouth to answer, he cuts you off with a stern, “Don’t. Lie. To me.”

“Yes,” you reply breathlessly, clenching your hands into fists. Fear runs down your spine when Taehyung pushes away from the door and draws near. You flinch when his hand reaches out, your body going stiff to brace for the sting of his palm against your cheek. But he doesn’t hit you, his hand frozen mid-air at your reaction. It’s when you feel the slight tug on a single strand of hair that you realize he’d meant to pet your head. You meet his eyes with tears welling in your own, chest rising and falling with short, rapid breaths.

“I’d never hurt you, Y/N,” Taehyung whispers, reaching out once more to graze the backs of his fingers against your cheek. The wet heat of a single tear sliding down your face catches on his knuckles and he grits his teeth. “Has anyone ever hit you before?”

Jungkook and Jimin immediately come closer to hear your answer. If anyone had ever laid a hand on you, they wouldn’t wait for Taehyung’s order to find and kill whoever it was. You aren’t just the boss’ wife, you’re theirs to protect now, and they intend on doing just that.

“No.” You turn away from Taehyung’s touch, drawing back to both create some much needed space, and to reel in the flood of emotions you didn’t expect to feel. Being a leader in a crime syndicate meant being vicious and violent, even to your own family if it proved a point. Taehyung was neither of those things, a heavy reminder of how gentle your father and grandfather would be with any woman or girl important to them. “No one’s ever...it’s just something I’ve seen many times before, is all.”

“To someone important?”

“To people who were people and deserved to be treated as such. Not like the punching bags they became because their boss couldn’t push aside his pride or ego.” You take another step back only to bump into Jungkook’s chest. Damn it. Too many people surround you, too many are witness to how easily you can crumble, and you want them out. You want room to breathe and catch your bearings. You also want the privacy to unpack your stuff.

“Out,” Taehyung demands from Jungkook and Jimin, neither men hesitate to do as they’ve been told. He moves for the door right after them, hesitating with his hand on the knob. Looking back over his shoulder, he sees you pulling a laptop from your backpack, along with a few romance novels and a jumbo book of crossword puzzles.

“Jimin isn’t the only one of the members you’ll be meeting today,” the softness of Taehyung’s voice makes your chest tight as you look up at him. “There’s 3 others roaming around here somewhere and another that’s away on an assignment, but he’ll be back soon.”

You nod your understanding, picking up a book to occupy your hands to keep your fingers from picking at the cuticles of your nails. It was something you’d always done when you got nervous, a bad habit that needed to be gotten rid of.

“I don’t want to do this to you, princess,” he states it like an apology as you draw your brows together in confusion, “but I’m going to take your laptop and phone.”

“Why?” One hand immediately falls to the computer he’s stepping back into the room for. You almost wrestle it away when his long fingers swipe it from the bed. “It’s important, Taehyung. I use it to edit my friend’s photos. She’s a photographer and I help her clean them up when she needs it.”

“I know you do, sweetheart.” He grips the computer closer to his side and holds his palm out. “You’ll get it back soon, I promise. I need your phone.”

“What if Joongki and Jeonghan call?” you scoff, because of fucking course Taehyung knows what you do in your spare time. “They’ll get worried if I don’t answer.”

“That’s a pretty weak excuse given how you tore into them after the reception. I might not have left with you, but I heard all about the way you swore you wouldn’t be speaking to your cousins anytime soon.”

“My friends will think I’m dead if I don’t answer their texts.”

“Your friends,” Taehyung steps closer and leans in, hovering inches away from your lips, “know that you got married today. They know that you’ll be occupied with your new husband. I can bet they’re wondering what you’re doing right this second, but can’t bring themselves to ask lest they interrupt what may be going on.”

Your back hits a wall you hadn’t realized he’d been backing you into. He’s not close enough to touch, yet that’s exactly what you want to do and find yourself pressing the book in your hand to his chest instead.

“I bet they’re wondering if you’re enjoying yourself,” he continues, pressing his forehead against yours. The back of your head thumps against the wall gently with the pressure as he uses it to keep your eyes on him. “They’re wondering if your new groom satisfies you enough, princess. If he’s kissing you like you deserve to be, touching you in all the right places,” his free hand clamps onto your waist, thumb dipping beneath the hem of your shirt to feel your skin, “if he’s able to hit that right spot inside of you over, and over, and over.”

Your breath hitches when his hand slides higher beneath the t-shirt you’d stupidly changed into before coming to the house. His fingers are hot against your skin as they’re splayed along your ribcage.

“I can do all of that for you if you’ll let me, princess,” Taehyung growls without meaning to. He’d only meant to distract you enough to take your phone. However, he’d somehow managed to arouse both himself and you with the way you clench your thighs together. Still, even knowing how turned on you are, he doesn’t press any closer than he already is. His hand doesn’t move any further up your torso though his thumb still rubs smooth circles on your skin. “I can make you feel so good, you’d forget your own name.”

You inhale sharply. You know he can and that he’d be the best you ever had. But giving in now, on your very first hour inside the new house, would be grounds for Taehyung to think you’re actually on board with this whole thing. So you do what you do best, argue. “You really think so highly of yourself, huh, Kim? I’m pretty sure I’ve had better.”

“Don’t push buttons when you don’t understand the consequences,” he whispers darkly, “or throw out empty challenges like that. I might be inclined to take them if you keep it up.”

You open your mouth to fight back, but a yelp comes out instead when his hand rips itself from underneath your shirt and is swiping the phone from your back pocket quickly. You aren’t prepared for him to reel back soon after, nearly losing your balance without him there to hold you up. “Taehyung, what the hell?!”

Taehyung smirks in victory, the phone and laptop in his hands, before he turns around and saunters to the door. “Disappointed, baby? All you have to do is ask and I’ll fuck you any way you want.”

Jungkook and Jimin are standing just outside, backs pressed to the opposite wall, and they both jump when the sound of glass shattering against wood follows Taehyung closing the door behind him. Jungkook wants to check on you, but the satisfied look on Taehyung’s face lets him know that you meant to break whatever had hit the door. “Uh, boss?”

Taehyung hands the laptop and phone to Jimin, who was looking at him with raised brows. “Give these to Yoongi, tell him to go through them, delete anything that can be used to track either device, and have him install the tracking app he created in her phone. I want us, and only us, to be able to access the app. If, for whatever reason, Yoongi feels like someone outside of the seven of us should be able to tap into it, I want to know who and why first. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Jimin disappears with the phone and computer, leaving behind a chuckle that has Jungkook rolling his eyes.

“Oh, and Kook,” Taehyung claps Jungkook on the shoulder with a mischievous grin, “buy Y/N a new perfume bottle. She seems to have broken her last one.”

#kim taehyung fic #kim taehyung smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts mafia smut #kim taehyung mafia smut

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ohworm-writes · 3 years

Text

#00 - Tape Zero | series masterlist

⮞ Beta Reader - @jschllatt ! thank you so much for proofreading this for me !

⮞ Pairing - Monster!Technoblade x Monster-Hunter!Reader ⮞ Summary - Everyone here seemed to hate everything you were. The way you walked, the way you talked, the way you breathed. Maybe your new assignment could change their minds about you. ⮞ Rating - Mature (SFW) ⮞ Warnings - cursing ⮞ Word Count - 2.6k ⮞ Taglist - Open! Send an Ask or DM to be added

In the abandoned casino you call home, everything smelt of lost hope. The pipes rusting, water leaking from their cracks and causing the surrounding mold to spread across the carpet beneath it. The graves of your allies were spread out across the perimeter of the building, their corpses either nowhere to be found or dug up and eaten by the beasts that had killed them. Whispers and mumbles echo from the people you could have come to call friends in another life, but their backs were turned towards you, shunning you from that sliver of a chance at a ‘normal’ life.

The sun peeked through the large windows of the building when you make your way downstairs towards the assembly hall. You yawn, mouth agape as you try to rub the remaining sleepiness out of your eyes. Waking up early was something you had to become accustomed to here, whether you liked it or not. Your hands found their way to your sides, clutching at the fabric of your shirt and pulling it close. You felt as though a single breath out of place would make these people hate you just the littlest bit more.

You knew you were the center of this minor dilemma you found yourself in. Outcasted, a funny thing, wasn’t it? To be rejected by the group you could call, what, a family? That was absurd, and yet, you long for it. They had a fair reason not to take kindly towards you. A stranger, someone nobody had ever heard of, not even a name on the side of a coffee cup, rose to the top of the hunters in their little group. You could barely hold your own before, so how come now you could kill monsters so efficiently with an arrow through the skull?

The top. Here, it meant you were the best hunter. Other social statuses didn’t matter, apart from one person, but what mattered most is that you could hold your own and protect your allies. That and that alone amounted to your worth. You and one other person had been graced with being at the top of the chain. Punz. Oh, oh he didn’t like you. No, not one bit.

You rose to your current position as one of Las Nevadas’ best hunters in a little under a week. He knew you were a skilled hunter. Hell, they assigned him to keep tabs on you when the group’s so-called ‘leader�� gained interest. But so much as this? It was frustrating, bordering infuriating. He fought for his position, bloodshed with the scars to prove it. And you? You. You went in right under his nose. You fought hard, you knew that. You put in the effort to make it to where you were in a group of strangers. Punz didn’t see it that way. Nobody in the damn place did.

The other hunters saw you as a problem, a pest. Someone as bad as the monsters they dealt with on a daily. Every time you went out on a mission, it came directly from them. Time and time again they gave you missions with the most deadly monsters, ready to celebrate the day you never came back. Hoping that one evening these solo missions would turn into your downfall. Waiting for that oh-so-sweet pager message to tell them you were gone, never to be heard from again.

As far as they knew, that message was yet to come.

With a jump off the last step, your feet collide with the carpeted flooring of the lobby. Or, as most here called it, the assembly hall. The room was filled, not completely, but as far as you knew, every member of the little ragtag group was here. You made your way to one of the adjacent walls, earning a few scowls and glares from your comrades. You brush it off; you have to, or else they’d feed off of your reaction like it was a starving man being graced with a meal. Your footsteps fall heavy as you walked, people around moving out of the way like you were the plague. That, or bumping into you, cursing at your clumsiness. It’s tiring, and yet you have to deal with it to survive.

When you finally make your way across, you lean with your back against the wall with a small sigh of relief. You note how the wood caves slightly under your weight, almost asking you to add more pressure and break through. You push the thought aside, instead of letting your eyes scan the room, taking in everything and everyone you can see. Every single person there talked within a group. Whether it was only one other person or 10 strangers you had yet to know the names of, they all have someone to share their thoughts with. Where did that leave you? Your eyes cast towards the ceiling above you, a chandelier hanging down. The golden rods allowed for the pieces of glass to hang down, reflecting the sunlight that had peeked through.

That chandelier was always something you look forward to seeing during these assembly meetings. It was your only constant. The sun shining through the windows, casting onto the glass and gold, painting little rainbows on the surrounding area. Maybe you admire it because you never saw one up in person before, maybe you like how it was high out of your reach. Maybe you would never know why you like it, but you still did.

“People!” A familiar voice shouts from your far left, the voices of everyone around you diminishing into silence, looking with awe at the man who spoke. They all knew, of course, so did you. You turn your attention towards him, the man everyone calls their leader.

Quackity.

Who would have thought the shorty that ran the recruitment center would be the leader? You squint your eyes, trying to see him better from the distance you stood at. He wore the same thing every day, a white button-up, rolled to his elbows, black slacks, and suspenders. He didn’t look intimidating; he didn’t look important, and yet everyone here treated him like a god. It was annoying, but you’d have to continue dealing with it. You didn’t want to lose your tongue for speaking out of place, now did you?

Next to him stood Punz. That bastard was like a personal plaything for Quackity. When he’s bored? Call the man to entertain him. When he’s threatened? Order him to kill the offender. When he’s on his last breath? Take everything from him and leave him to rot. What could he do, argue? That was laughable. Quackity ruled over the casino. There was no question about it. He ruled over Las Nevadas. He. Ruled.

Both of their eyes met yours, Punz’s glare more intense towards you than usual, and Quackity’s smile widening, the scar through his lip making it more menacing. They were a full story above you, peering off of the balcony at you. As quick as their glances met yours, they left, turning to the others in the crowd. Punz stood a foot behind Quackity, the man in question leaning over the railing with his arms spread out wide.

“My people! Another beautiful day in our home, wouldn’t you say?” His rhetorical question was met with cheers and joyful cries. You notice how it seems to only fuel his ego. How sad. His hands meet his head, readjusting his dark blue beanie, moving a piece of dark hair that had escaped underneath it. “I’m sure you’re bored with me saying the same thing every day.” He says, voice loud as it echoes through the open room. Nobody spoke. You knew he liked it like that. All the attention on him.

He stands up straight, laughing lightheartedly whilst backing away from the railing and instead of walking along the side of it. “No, I’m sure you all have no problem with it.” A few scattered cheers voice their agreement, you notice how Quackity visibly stiffens. Poor bastards, you think, they wouldn’t make it tomorrow with that interruption. He clears his throat once more, the room quiet again. “We have a busy day today! We have leaks on the second floor that need fixing, a few easy pests that need to be taken care of in the garden, and our hunters have new assignments.” You perk up at the talk of assignments, your attention set on him more than before. “Hunters, you know the drill.”

You did. You push off of the wall, walking towards the front. A few people surrounding you decide to move out of your way now, all of them. The crowd parts like the Red Sea, letting you and the hunters around walk past without trouble. Two hunters on your left, three to your right, four behind. There were ten of your total, which wasn’t too bad, but it just added to the number of people that didn’t take a liking to you. You keep your pace quick, walking up to the fold-out table that sat below Quackity’s balcony.

A woman and a man stand behind it, both dressed in yellow vests. The table has ten manilla folders on it, names written in marker to indicate whose is whose. The hunters around you rush forward, some pushing into you as they pass by. You sigh, bringing one of your hands to your neck to rub it. They did this every day. Quackity’s voice booms above you as he speaks. “Everyone else is welcome to breakfast now. Let’s make this day productive, people!” The crowd behind you cheers as you reach the empty table, taking the folder in your empty hand. Your eyes scan the folder, your name written neatly like the rest.

The two across from you at the table stay quiet as they watch you, both glaring, but the man’s softer. You look up from it at them, sending them a nod as you make your way to your room. You hold it with two hands now, seeing how the folder is thicker than the others you had previously received. As you go to flip open the top, a hand finds itself on your shoulder.

“Ayyy, Y/n.” You groan internally as the hand pats you twice before retreating. You turn around to face Quackity, giving him a forced smile. “Quackity. A pleasure to see you.” He was always a pain to deal with in person. “8-Ball today? What happened to the prosthetic Mr. Andrews found last week?” His lips quirk up into a grin, the white circle of the 8-Ball in his right eye looking straight through you. It was… unnerving. He chuckled, bringing his hand up to motion for you to follow him as he turns around.

You’re hot on his heels as you walk behind him, walking towards his office. “It was irritating, I’ll be honest. This one has some kinda... intimidating aura to it, don’t you think?” You hum at him, folder pressed to your chest as you walk. Your footsteps are out of sync with him, you notice. You subconsciously try to match them. “You know, talk more with the people here” He tries to tease, looking over his shoulder at you, watching you roll your eyes.

“You know more than anyone they don’t take kindly to me.” You comment, feeling his eyes on you as you look up at him. He sighs exasperatedly, looking ahead as he reaches a metal red door, his pace slowing. You stop behind him as he pulls out a chain with numerous keys on it, a loud clinking coming from it as he looks through them. There had to be over twenty keys on it, if that. He noticed your eyes on it, of course he did. “There are so many damn keys to this place, it’s nuts.”

You hum again, watching as he unlocks the door and clips the chain to his belt once more. He pushes it open with both of his hands, walking in as it begins to shut on you. You hurry and push it open, looking around his office as you step in, closing it behind you. It was pretty minimal, with a few bookshelves, a desk, and a little lounge area in the back. “Nice office.” You comment, following him, bringing the hand holding the folder to your side.

“Yeah, I’ll cut the shit now. That good for you?” That was different, but not surprising. “Yeah, sure.” He stops at his desk, turning and sitting on the ledge, his hands on his knees as he sits up straight. “Pass the folder here, let me show you what you’re dealing with.” You oblige with him, passing him the folder. You look at his hands, his fingers scarred and rough. Interesting.

He flips it open and sets it onto the wooden desk, letting the contents spread across the length of the desk. Several sheets of paper were spread out, pages upon pages of info, the text smaller as to fit more words in the pages. What caught your eye the most, though, was the first sheet of paper. A photograph was clipped to the corner, a semi-blurry image of a pig-like creature. “The… Blade?”

“Bastard is what he is.” Quackity comments, stepping back to let you look down at the papers. He sits on the corner of the desk, hands now placed behind his as he looks over his shoulder at the papers. You take two steps forward, fingers drifting from one page to another. “There seems to be a lot about this one.” You remark, taking a random page in your hands as you read its contents under your breath.

“Upon further inspection, it seems the beast relates to that of a Piglin creature. While they are moderate-level monsters, this one seems to be an evolved breed of them. Its reflexes are quick, and it’s undoubtedly strong. Previous notes about the breed tell that they are very territorial and are naturally aggressive to those who aren’t their breed.”

You can feel Quackity tense beside you, so you call him out on it. “What’s on your mind?” He sighs, but you don’t look at him, eyes still trained on the papers. He’s quiet for a moment, and you almost don’t think he’s going to answer you. But he does. “That asshole was the one who gave me this scar.”

Now that, that surprised you. Your brows raised, then furrowed as you came across a note over the top of one paper. “Says here nobody has survived facing him.” He almost growls at you, you hear the rumble in his throat, but he ends up sighing again. “I was lucky, wasn’t I.”

That’s for damn sure. If what these papers were saying was true, this was the most difficult monster that the group has faced to date. “So, it’s a suicide mission.” You say, swiping the papers back into the folder. They were trying to kill you. He laughs at that. Not his normal, unsettling chuckle, but a hearty laugh. “No no no, you got it all wrong. I think you are the only one that can kill him.”

You stop everything. Your hands come to a halt. Your breathing stops. You stop. “What?” “I said.” He replies, pushing off the desk and leaning close to you, feeling his breath on the shell of your ear. “You are the only person here that can kill him.” Your eye twitches. “Why not Punz? Or, a group of the other hunters? Why am I the one that can kill him?” He smiled, this time it was soft, sincere.

“Because you’re you.”

⮞ Previous Tape ⮞⮞⮞ ⮞ Next Tape

⮞ Technoblade Route Taglist - @mega-trash-cringe @jaciahbabes @ura-writes @sunshinebutnorainbows @dominickle @valkyrieidunn

⮞ Author’s Note - With that, we begin. Buckle up for the ride of a lifetime folks, it’s going to be bumpy.

168 notes · View notes

dreamingofaizawa · 4 years

Text

Guys My Age

Title and concept inspo: Guys My Age by Hey Violet

Soft Dom! Aizawa Shouta x Medium-sized Fem! Reader

Quirkless AU

***18+ Fic***

You must be at least 18 years old to participate in this reading. If you are under the age of 18 please step out of line and find another fic. Thank you and have a good day.

Warnings: Age gap, praise kink, DD/LG dynamic and terms, use of the words daddy and sir, light bondage, overstimulation, smut.

Word Count: 4.1k

Author’s Note: I KNOW, I know, I write a lot of Aizawa fics, and they’re all DD/LG stuff. I know, okay? It’s an obsession, I’m in love with this man. Anyway, another soft dom Aizawa, but reader isn’t very well-versed in intimacy. Also, reader is what some would call medium-sized. Not necessarily big, but definitely not small. This is for all my medium-sized girls, including myself. I was very self-indulgent with this one.

Part 2

Enjoy~

You’d always been told you were mature for your age. It wasn’t until recently you realized how true that statement might be. You’re currently 21. And very, very single. You’ve had a total of six different relationships, and all of them fell through for one very simple reason. The boys you dated were just that. Boys. They were extremely immature. Only ever wanting to ‘hang with the boys’ or stay at home. No effort was put into the relationship on their part after the first few weeks. You didn’t understand why these vastly different boys were all so adamant on staying inside.

You’d tried desperately to get them to go out on dates with you. You offered to pay, and drive, and literally anything else. But no, they were too busy playing video games or getting higher than the damn sky. Don’t even start thinking about sex. You hadn’t got any of that shit since your first ‘boyfriend’ at 17, who used you like a sex doll and broke it off once he found someone hotter and sexier and altogether better in his eyes. You were sick of it. So you did the last thing you’d ever want to do. You went on a blind date.

You’d stumbled on a website last week that allowed you to set up a blind date with a stranger. It seemed legit, and had background checks on all participants. It also allowed you to put in any preferences you had, and matched you with someone that had similar preferences and hobbies. The age range you put in? 30-35 years old. Because guys your age just didn’t cut it. You needed someone more mature, someone who could treat you like a woman, not some girl.

Today, almost a week after matching with someone, you were standing outside an italian restaurant. You didn’t know his face, just his name and age, and that he was a teacher. Aizawa Shouta, 31 years old. And he’d sent a single message when you matched.

Meet me at this location on Saturday. When you enter, I’ll be at the back corner table. Semi-formal. 8 pm, please don’t be late.

It was blunt and straightforward. You liked it. You just hoped he wasn’t quite this blunt in person. You’d put on a black knee-length cocktail dress with a halter top and a partially open back that fell to the small of your back. It accentuated your shoulders and the top half of your torso before fanning out at your waist, the silky material falling and swaying around you.

You slipped on simple white heels and silver jewelry, with a white clutch purse. You’d decided to pull your hair into a loose half-up half-down, a silver comb pinning your hair in place, minimal makeup and clear lip gloss. For the first time in a while you felt pretty. You knew you weren’t exactly small, but the way you were dressed gave you confidence.

You looked at your watch. 7:55 pm. You took a deep breath, straightened out your dress, and stepped into the restaurant. The host asked if you had a reservation, and you told him you were meeting someone who already arrived. He let you pass, and you walked back to the table Aizawa told you to meet at. He had his back to you as you approached, but you could see his broad shoulders and muscular frame easily.

He wore a white long-sleeve button down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a black vest fitted to his form. His slacks were also fitted, showing off his muscular thighs. His long raven hair was pulled in a half-up half-down similar to yours. You hadn’t even seen his face yet and he looked delicious.

Your heels clacked on the wood flooring, and as you neared the booth he turned to look at you. You stopped next to the table and got a good look at the stranger. He was beautiful. His dark bloodshot eyes looked tired, the bags underneath giving him away and only adding to his appeal, and a scar curved under his right eye. A sharp jawline, with a tamed scruff, and thin lips in a neutral expression. You were about to introduce yourself, but he stood from the booth and held his hand out, palm up. “You must be (y/l/n) (y/n).” You smiled at the gesture, and placed your hand in his. “That’s me. And you are Aizawa Shouta. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He pulled your hand to his lips and placed a kiss on your knuckles, before leading you to your seat.

As he sat down, you noticed a bottle of wine sitting in the center of the table in a bucket of ice, and two glasses of wine halfway full. One sat in front of you, and the other in front of Aizawa. He began the conversation with a rather specific question. “So, (y/l/n), why are you on a dating website looking for men that are so much older than you?” Normally you’d take offense to a question like that, but the way he said it was pure curiosity. So, you answered. “If I’m being honest, it’s actually pretty simple. Guys my age just don’t know how to treat me.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, a barely noticeable smirk tugging at his lips. “And how do you want to be treated?” You smiled a little at the implications behind the question, and answered. “I don’t want to be stuck in my room while my ‘boyfriend’ plays video games and smokes weed. I don’t want to be ‘one of the boys’, and I don’t want to have to plead and beg to go on a date or spend time with him. I want to be treated like a woman, not a girl. And I want to spend my time with a man, not waste it on a boy.”

At that, Aizawa smirked and sipped at his wine. You both took a quick look at the menu and ordered when the waiter came. As you ate, you talked about random subjects and hit it off quite well. The date went by quickly, and at the end of the night you’d exchanged numbers. “I look forward to another date with you, Ms. (y/l/n).” “The feeling is mutual, Mr. Aizawa.”

When you got back home, you undressed and cleaned your face and got into bed. As you lay there, your mind drifted back to the date, and how undeniably handsome Aizawa is. The way he spoke to you like you were his equal, and looking at you like an ancient treasure. He was everything you wanted, without even considering anything sexual. Little did you know he felt much the same way.

____

When the date ended he texted Hizashi to let him know he was free. Hizashi, of course, called him immediately, and began drilling him about the date. “How’d it go Sho? Was it a rando with a thing for older guys? Did she want a sugar daddy?” Shouta rolled his eyes. “No, Zashi, she wasn’t looking for a sugar daddy. She was...actually really mature for a 21 year old. She knows what she wants. I admire that a little. And I won’t lie, she’s quite beautiful. Not the generic, model, beauty-pageant, barbie doll pretty. It’s a natural glow she has. It’s...quite mesmerizing...”

Hizashi exploded on the other side, laughing at the new infatuation his friend had for a blind date. “I hope she’s your type, Sho. I mean physically. I know how much you like them with a little meat on their bones.” Aizawa groaned at his comment. He knew he was just teasing, but that his blonde friend was 100% right. He knew he had a type, and he’d be lying to himself if he hadn’t looked at your full figure quite frequently.

He’d taken in your dress, how it showed off your shoulders and back. As you climbed into your car and took off your heels, he trailed his eyes up your legs, getting a small glimpse at your thick thighs. When you sat up behind the wheel, he revelled in the small rolls showing through your dress, wanting nothing more than to squeeze them and kiss them and bite them...

He shook away the thoughts that were threatening to take over his mind. “Shut it Hizashi. Her body is none of my concern, and is most definitely none of yours. I enjoyed the date and that’s what matters.” The loud blonde gasped dramatically, “Oh my god she totally is! Damn you go get some Sho!” Aizawa just ended the call.

The next date was planned once again by Aizawa, and it was only a week after the first. It was a simple coffee date at a small cafe. You talked casually about the things you enjoyed doing. You convinced him to let you take care of the next date, which you decided would be a relaxed ramen date. You’d gotten comfortable around each other, and after about six more dates, he invited you over to his place for dinner. Of course, you accepted.

He’d sent you the address and apartment number, and you stood outside his door in dark jeans, black flats, and a beige sweater with a white tank top underneath. You knocked on the door, and when it opened he greeted you with a peck on the cheek. It had become a normal greeting, since you’d gotten so close, though the gesture always made you a little shy. He told you to get comfortable as he finished up dinner, and you sat at the kitchen table and admired him as he worked in the kitchen. He wore fitted blue denim jeans, and a black cotton t-shirt, his hair pulled up in a bun.

No matter how many times you looked at him, he was always just as shockingly handsome as the first time you saw him. His t-shirt left his toned arms exposed, and it was fitted to his torso, showing off his muscular frame. Your eyes traced the outline of his muscles from his shoulder, down his arm, drifting to his hips and up his back. You didn’t notice him glance back and smirk at you. “Like what you see kitty cat?” Heat rushed to your face at the realization that you’d been staring, and the fact that he’d noticed. And that name… “K-kitty?” you barely whispered, before quickly apologizing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”

You didn’t think he heard the first part. You were wrong. “It’s alright. And yes, kitty. Don’t like the pet name?” Your face burned at the tone of his voice. “N-no, the name’s fine, you just...caught me off guard.” He chuckled. “I should do it more often. You’re cute when you’re flustered.” You didn’t think your face could get any hotter, but it did. You tilted your head down and away from him and bit your lip, letting your hair fall to hide your face. You’d never gotten this kind of attention before, and you had no idea how to handle it.

You were too busy trying to calm your breathing to hear him approach you. The proximity and demanding tone of his voice made you jump a little. “Look at me, kitten.” You swallowed and took a breath before turning your head to him, and he hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your head so you were forced to sit up taller. He moved even closer, your shoulder brushing against his abdomen, and you nearly had to look straight up to look in his eyes.

Your eyes began to drift away from his, and he jerked your chin up higher, silently commanding you not to look away. You brought your eyes back to his and held his gaze, and after a few moments he smirked. The hand under your chin moved to stroke your cheek with his knuckles. “Good girl.”

He quickly dropped his hand and went back to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner. It took you a few seconds to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You panted a little, trying to calm yourself from what just happened, and clasped your shaking hands together. But they weren’t shaking from fear. In fact, you couldn’t quite tell why you were so shaky and out of breath. And the praise from him sent a shiver down your spine.

He managed to distract you while you ate, and you had completely recovered from whatever that was earlier. After dinner you moved into the living room and relaxed on the couch while you talked some more. Soon he’d leaned his head back and closed his eyes, still talking and listening, but clearly relaxed. Once again you found yourself distracted by his body, following the muscles in his neck down to his toned chest and abdomen. And again, he noticed. “I can feel your eyes on me, kitten.” His voice was low, a rumble of smooth baritone. You found yourself turning away to hide your face again, and the command in his voice controlled you with ease.

“Don’t look away from me, kitten.” You turned back to him, and when your eyes met his, you looked away, and he let out a low growl and your eyes snapped back to him. He adjusted and sat up, your eyes still fixed on each other. He pat his leg, “Come here kitty.” You blinked at him, not quite prepared for such a demand. His eyes darkened a little and his voice dropped to a growl, “I won’t ask twice.”

At that you got up and went to sit on one of his legs, but he pulled his knees together and shook his head. So you climbed over and straddled his legs on your knees. He grabbed your hips and pulled you so you were fully sitting on his lap, your core dangerously close to his growing bulge.

Your eyes were still locked on his as he leaned close to you, his hands rubbing circles into your hips. He leaned past your face and whispered into your ear. “Can I touch you kitty?” You took a shaky breath and nodded. He laid a light spank on your ass and you jumped. “Use your words kitty cat.” “Y-yes, you can t-touch me.” He laid a kiss on your neck and whispered ‘good girl’ before moving his hands under your sweater and tank top. He ran his hands up and down your back, and he gripped the fatty flesh of your stomach and hips, kneading it in his palms gently as he worked his way up your body, leaving feather light kisses along your neck and jaw.

The intimacy had you quivering, and the way he nearly worshipped your body had your breaths coming out shaky and heavy. Shouta caught on quickly. “Is it safe for me to assume you haven’t done anything in a while?” he said in your ear. You started to nod, but quickly caught yourself, “Y-yes.” He stilled his movements and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Tell me what you did before this.” You took a breath and explained the situation as simply and quickly as possible.

His arms tensed, clearly upset that you’d been used like that. But he didn’t pry into that right now. “So you haven’t explored anything? Like any preferences you might have?” You shook your head quickly, “N-no...why?” He chuckled. “Well, kitty, you’re quite submissive. If you’d let me, I can help you explore this side of you.” You swallowed and nodded. “Y-yeah, I think I’d like that.” He hummed into your neck, “We can start tonight, but only if you’re comfortable and you want to.” You took a few moments to think about your answer. This man had been nothing but good to you. He treated you with more respect than all the boys you dated had combined. And you trusted him. “I...I’m comfortable starting tonight.”

“Alright kitty. Now, listen to me closely, because this is important, okay?” “Okay, I’m listening.” “Good. Since this is new to you, we need to establish a safeword. Is ‘roses’ alright?” You nod. “Okay. Now if anything ever gets too much for you, if you feel uncomfortable for any reason, if you need to stop for any reason, or if there’s a medical emergency, you need to use it. And that goes for me too. If I don’t like where things are going, I’ll use it. Once we use the safeword, everything will stop right there, no questions asked. Understand?”

“I understand.” “Okay. Can I trust you to use it if you feel the need to?” You nod, “Yes. I’ll use it if I need to.” He kisses your neck, “Good girl.” The praise makes you shudder, and you feel him smile into your neck. “Now, kitty, I want you to address me as either ‘Daddy’, ‘Sir’, or ‘Master’ when we’re like this, do you understand?” “Yes.” He spanks you a little harder. “Yes what?” You jump at the contact “Y-yes Sir.” Another kiss on your neck, “Good girl.” He leans back and taps your arms, “Up.” You lift your arms and he pulls off your sweater and tank top at the same time.

His hands come back down on your shoulders, and he runs his hands down your chest and stomach, taking the time to remove your bra and knead your breasts. He wraps his arms around you and stands up, and you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he carries you to his bedroom. He puts you down on the bed on your back and takes a rope out of the bedside table. You let him take your hands and tie your wrists to the bar at the headboard. It’s not uncomfortably tight, but a few experimental tugs tell you it’s solid and you won’t be getting out of it unless he unties you.

He trails kisses down your body, unbuttoning your jeans and removing them as he goes. Once your jeans are off, he loops his fingers in the band of your panties and pulls them off. After that, he leans back and just rakes his eyes up and down your body, eating up every inch of your skin. “You’re such a pretty kitty.” His words have you shuddering and blushing. You’d never been called pretty before, and you knew why. You were a little bigger than other girls. You weren’t necessarily insecure about it. You didn’t care all that much about how people saw you with just your looks alone. But you knew Shouta was admiring your body after knowing who you are as a person, and it made you a little giddy.

His mouth and hands were all over you, squeezing and groping, sucking bruises onto your skin. His touches were sending waves of heat through your body, and pooling between your legs. You desperately wanted him to touch you there, and you whined and rolled your hips up into the air. “Such a needy kitty. Be patient. I’m not done here yet.” He rolled a nipple in between his index and thumb, pulling the other into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue. You mewled at the sensation, and he switched his mouth over to the other side.

Your legs were rubbing together, begging for friction, and he finally moved down to your dripping core. He took a finger and slipped it over your folds. He groaned as his finger collected your slick, “You’re so wet kitty. Are you this wet for me?” You nodded your head frantically, and he laid a light smack on your pussy. You let out a soft whimper, “Yes Sir, it’s for you,” you answered quickly. He hummed, “Good girl. I didn’t even need to remind you to use your words.” He kissed the inside of your thigh, and moved to lick a stripe up your folds. You gasped at the new feeling, never having anyone’s mouth down there before.

He slipped the pink muscle into you easily, groaning when he tasted you. The sound sent vibrations through your dripping cunt, making you squirm at the pleasure. He looped his arms around your legs, dipping his fingers into your core and using the slick to rub tight circles onto your clit. An unfamiliar sensation built in the pit of your stomach, your muscles tightening in your abdomen as it got stronger. You knit your eyebrows together, and in between heavy breaths you gasped out, “S-sir...it feels strange.” He raised his eyebrows at the statement, and increased his pace until that coil inside you snapped, which didn’t take very long.

Your back arched off the bed as you let out a loud, sharp moan, your legs shaking from the intensity of your first orgasm. Aizawa kept lapping at your pussy, letting you ride out your high, and once you were relaxed and panting on the bed, he lifted his head and wiped his chin. “Kitty, have you never cum before?” He asked, a small smirk tugging at his lips. You shake your head, “No S-sir...Is that what just happened?” He chuckled, but didn’t answer the question, “You’re going to have fun tonight kitty.” You didn’t have time to question what he meant, though, because he slipped a thick finger into your core, and you mewled as your walls clenched down on him.

The game he played went on for what felt like hours, and you lost count of how many times he’s made you cum. He’d fucked you and cum multiple times himself. You’d already squirted several times, and tears were streaming down your face from the overstimulation. It felt so good, but it was starting to melt your brain and the title of ‘Sir’ drifted to ‘Daddy’ as it went on. All the muscles in your body were burning from flexing so hard, and your wrists were feeling raw from how hard you’d been tugging at your restraints. It felt so, so good...but it was too much. He leaned down close to your face and kissed at the tears, “You’re doing so well babygirl. You got one more for me?”

You giggled lightly at the praise, your mind fuzzy, unable to form coherent thoughts as he thrust his hips into you. He stilled his movements and caressed your jaw. “How are you feeling, kitten?” Your eyes looked up into his, struggling to stay open. You giggled a little as you answered. “It’s… I f-feel…” You knit your eyebrows together in concentration, searching your brain. “R-roses?”

Everything stopped, and he instantly reached up and tugged off your restraints, and pulled your exhausted body close to his chest. Your breathing got heavier, and your chest got tight, and fresh tears fell down your cheeks. He held you tight, kissing your tears and petting your hair as your cries died down. He held you like that until your breathing was normal again. You slowly opened your eyes, weakly calling out to him, “Daddy?” He kissed your forehead, “I’m right here kitten. Tell me what you need.” You nuzzled your head into his neck and mumbled, “Water. Can I have water?” He wrapped you in a soft blanket and stood up, carrying you with him. “Anything for my kitten.”

He set you on the counter and made a glass of iced water, holding it up to your lips. As you sipped, he rubbed your back and kissed your forehead and neck, and he didn’t stop or move until you had drained the cup. He left it in the sink and picked you up again, taking you to the bathroom and filling the tub with warm water. He turned off the tap, took off your blanket, and carried you into the tub. He washed the both of you, massaging your scalp, and you let out a sound like a pur, which he smiled at.

When he was done, he stood you up and wrapped you in a fluffy towel, dried himself with one, and carried you back to bed. You curled into him, and he wrapped his arms around you. “Are you okay (y/n)?” You nodded into his chest, “Yeah, I’m okay. It was just intense.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, “Thank you for using the safeword. You did so well for me kitten, trusting me like that.” You nuzzled into his chest some more, relishing in the heat his body gave.

You loved the praise he gave you. It made you feel warm and fuzzy in your belly, and it felt so good. Soon you were drifting into a deep sleep, comfortable in Shouta’s arms. This was nice. You’d be happy to let him guide you, let him take care of you like this. One thought drifted through your head as you drifted.

‘Guys my age could never.’

#aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #aizawa #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta x fem reader #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x fem reader #aizawa shouta smut #shouta aizawa smut #aizawa shouta bnha #aizawa shouta mha #shouta aizawa bnha #shouta aizawa mha #dom aizawa

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sweetest-honeybee · 3 years

Text

Impulse’s New Outfit

Summary: Scar helps Impulse into a suit much like his own.

TW: None

Word Count: 1278

Notes: This wasn’t edited lol

Enjoy!

——————

Impulse wanted to try a new look, a style he usually wasn’t very familiar with. But, he supposed that Scar could help him given the man’s taste in his clothing.

After Charlie’s message, he got to work on building his factory and it eventually hit him that a factory meant business and business, on this scale anyways, meant that he’d have to dress in something more formal. At least, more formal than his usual t-shirt and cargo shorts. Scar seemed the perfect choice as he’d been swaying away from his usual brown denim jacket and towards coats made of expensive fabrics- his head now crowned with a top hat as well, of course.

So, he did just that. After finishing the entrance of his factory, he glided over to the large wagons across the village. Thankfully, Scar was around, having only been in his garage until he looked up as Impulse landed with a stumble. Through the iron bars, Impulse watched as his friend finalized his Swaggon restock and walked to the garage’s entrance.

“Hey Impulse!” the builder greeted happily.

Impulse approached him with a wave. “Hey! The new, uh, Swaggon? I think? It’s looking great,” he chuckled.

Scar glanced at the new version of it with a proud smile. “Yeah, I’m excited to roll ‘em out.”

Impulse nodded. “Right right, so um, I need a favor from you.”

The other raised a brow but then shrugged. “For the right price, anything’s possible.”

“I need to look like,” he gestured up and down towards Scar, “that. Can you help a guy out?”

Scar looked down. “My clothes?”

“Yeah. I’ve got this whole business thing going on with the factory, thought maybe you could get me looking kinda fancy, you know? You’re the fanciest Hermit I know.”

“Aw, well I do love me some flattery. Sure! Just step on inside this here wagon and we’ll get you started.” He bounded away with what Impulse noticed was a skip in his step. Scar must’ve been excited to do this.

He followed and the builder led him to the top floor where his desk, bed, and lounge resided. Scar left him to stand idly while he dragged a large trunk from out beside the couch near the window.

“I’ve got a whole chest of stuff you could wear,” he started. He eyed Impulse with a hum. “I’m thinking black and yellow to not throw off your whole theme. Or, if you had something else in mind-“

“Black and yellow sounds just fine,” Impulse answered.

“Alright, what do you want to wear? I’ve got shirts, vests, jackets, coats of many kinds, and a bunch of hats,” he listed. “If you want my opinion, I’d say some kind of tailcoat at least.”

The redstoner pondered over the suggestion then shook his head. “No, too fancy I think. A jacket kind of like yours seems like a good choice.” He raised his hands with a shrug. “But, you’re the expert here so you don’t have to listen to me.” He flashed a lopsided smile.

Scar tutted. “It’s your outfit, Impulse. Your feedback is crucial in this process. But,” he trailed off to dig into the trunk, then pulled out a black top hat with a yellow ribbon wrapped around its base. “I think I’ve got an idea.”

He went over and placed the hat on his friend’s head. Impulse looked up as if he could see it which promoted Scar to grab a hand mirror from his desk. He held it up in front of Impulse.

“If you like this hat then my idea should be a good one.” He awaited an answer. Then, really much to some surprise, Impulse broke into a wide smile.

“I like it!”

The builder clapped happily. “Awesome! I’ll grab the rest of the main suit, then you can help pick accessories, yeah?”

Impulse still stared into the mirror admiring the hat. If it were only the hat that produced such a reaction, he assumed Impulse would die from smiling so much. It did bring one to Scar’s face though. Impulse would leave the wagon looking like a new man.

They two set to work on the rest of the outfit. Scar rummaged through the chest and pulled out a matching black coat and slacks trimmed with yellow, and a yellow vest to match. He showed them to Impulse.

“Thoughts?”

The redstoner only looked confused. “Aren’t those…your size?”

This brought out a laugh from the other. “Oh, a little vex magic never hurt anyone. Some tailoring is all.” He waved a dismissive hand which he then used to snap his fingers. The snap produced a blue sheen that travelled down the clothing, effectively enlarging their size. “This should fit you fine.”

Impulse opened his mouth to say something, then clamped it shut. Whatever worked, he supposed.

He put on the articles of clothing with ease. With more vex magic, the builder summoned a full body mirror that sat against the wall. Impulse twisted and turned, marveling at the look. Though, the t-shirt under such a suit made his face twist which prompted Scar to find a button up to go underneath. After the change was made, Impulse was extremely impressed and so excited that he bounced on his toes.

“I love it! Maybe a bit longer of a coat but I’m very happy with it!” He commented as he tipped his hat at the mirror with a laugh.

Scar was more than proud of himself. His friend looked amazing and it only made his cheeks burn from grinning. Or, it might’ve been the flush that rose to them from the compliments. He turned and lifted a small wooden box from where the trunk previously was by the window. Impulse eyed him curiously as he walked back.

“Are you more of a bow tie or necktie person?” Scar asked. “I also suggest a monocle if you’re feeling particularly dangerous.” He winked and his friend laughed.

“I’m not that dangerous, but a bow tie sounds fun. Not a very serious thing, you know? It’s a candy factory.”

The builder opened the box with a hum. “Any colors you have in mind? Maybe a yellow to match the ribbon on your hat or a darker shade?”

The other peeked into the box which held many accessories- bow ties, neckties, cufflinks, collar pins, and decorative gold and silver chained charms. Much more than he was certainly used to and likely wouldn’t use. But, a vibrant yellow bow tie caught his eye which he pointed at.

“How about that one?”

Scar plucked it from the box alongside a grey bow tie. He put it down on his desk, leading Impulse to the mirror. He put up the bow ties in front of the other.

“Yellow seemed fitting for the kind of business you’re running, but I grabbed a grey one in case you didn’t want something so vibrant,” the builder explained. He alternated the bow ties, giving Impulse time to choose.

“Yeah, I like the yellow actually,” agreed the redstoner. So, Scar put it on the other and stood back, taking in the finished outfit from farther away.

“You look awesome! You’re like a whole new man!” He mused. “It suits you,” he added with a snicker.

“This season and the puns,” Impulse muttered with a laugh. He looked over into the mirror. “I absolutely love it, thank you.”

Scar patted him on the shoulder. “That’ll be a diamond block by the way.”

“Wait, what-“

“Kidding! Only kidding, it’s free.”

“We’ll I sure hoped so-“

“The first time anyways. Additional appointments are a diamond block.”

Impulse rolled his eyes with a fond smile. “Right.”

#this came out a lot longer than I thought #oops #I’ll add a read more here soon #my fic #hermitcraft #impulsesv #goodtimeswithscar

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duuhrayliegh · 3 years

Text

Fuck Misogyny

request: Bucky uses his newly gained knowledge of feminism to squash misogynistic interview questions. @ptrs-prkrs

warnings: language, creepy men, feminist!bucky

a/n: hey babes!! i hope this lived up to what you wanted! i couldn’t find the exact video you were referencing but i know what you’re talking about, so i drew inspiration from a few others.

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

xoxo ray

full m.list

The set up was simple. A long row of fold out tables covered in black fabric, microphones in front of each seat. Black papers were taped to the backs of the microphones with each team member's name. Bucky had told Evie that he wasn’t going to be able to work out with her today because of this so it better be worth it. The PR manager for the team, Amanda, had set everything up. Hired the mediator, notified the press, everything. Ever since they announced that they were going to be hosting an Avenger’s Q&A Panel, the internet quite literally broke.

Of course Bucky had been doing lives on TikTok with the group of five for the past couple of weeks now, so he was becoming quite comfortable in this format. He’s become increasingly active on his social media accounts, gaining more and more followers everyday. Granted, there were still haters, as Freddie called them, but Bucky ignored them for the most part.

Bucky was actually excited for this press meeting. He was finally gaining traction in the media and he knew how to correctly answer their questions. As Amanda had explained, there was going to be several questions from the mediator, tons from the press that they had invited, and then some fan questions as well. They apparently were going to be live streaming the conference on YouTube allowing them to read the comments and questions as it went on.

“Okay, everyone. You have two minutes until we start.” The team was in an empty board room in the Hilton hotel. Tony didn’t want everyone on the compound’s grass because he just had it fixed. Bucky scanned his fellow teammates. It was impossible for everyone to dress for the same event. Steve was wearing a shirt that was almost bursting at the seams with a pair of jeans and sneakers.

Tony was wearing a lovely Tom Ford, three piece, two-button, of course. Natasha and Wanda were wearing ripped jeans and casual tops. Vision was wearing a sweater vest and slacks, Bruce was clad in slacks as well a jacket covering his shoulders. Sam was wearing a button-up shirt and pressed jeans and he couldn’t find Clint anywhere, probably hiding in the rafters again.

Bucky had his iconic leather jacket donning his shoulders, a pair of slightly ripped jeans. His outfit was picked out by Cassie and Penny. “You need to look like you care but like you don’t at the same time.” Is what they said, the phrase made Bucky shake his head. His hair had finally started growing back and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it.

He had gotten help from Evie before he left Cassie’s apartment. She had pulled back the top half, braiding back two sections into the bun at the back of his head. There were pieces dangling in front of his eyes, “to accentuate the facial features, trust me they’ll love it.” Was Evie’s explanation as they pushed him out of the apartment, so he wouldn’t be late.

“Alright guys! They’re calling your names!” The team filed out of the board room and into a large ballroom. Bottles of water were placed beside each placemat. Tony went out first, followed by Steve, then Bruce, Natasha, Clint, Wanda, Vision, Sam and ending with Bucky. They all settled into their seats, Bucky peeled his jacket off himself, placing it on the back of his chair. His black short sleeved shirt highlighted the gold inlays of his vibranium arm.

“Oh, I see we’re showing some muscle today huh, Buck?” Sam teased as Bucky took his seat next to him. Bucky groaned in realization, covering his microphone so it didn’t pick up what he planned to say.

“Good God, is this what it’s going to be like the entire panel? You just bugging the shit outta me?” They shared a laugh making the rest of the members look at the pair. The audience clapped as they were introduced and continued clapping as they assembled before them.

“Thank you. We would like to welcome everyone to the first, of hopefully many, Avenger’s Q&A Panel.” The female mediator, Stacey, read the assigned lines off the sheet on her podium. “We are going to start with questions we curated for the team and then open it up to the members of the press. After that we will turn to our live stream and answer some viewer questions.” The press rustled in their seats, pulling out pens and journals as well as their phones to record. “Okay, starting off with a question directed at the Avengers in general. How are you feeling about coming before the media in this type of format?” Glances were exchanged between the members, not sure on who was going to start.

“I feel that this is a great way for the general public to learn a little bit more about each individual team member.” Vision was the first to respond and Steve added on.

“Yeah, I definitely think that there’s a common misconception that we don’t want to engage with the media or the general public. We do, unfortunately due to the amount of research and training that we are doing behind the scenes, it just goes to the back of our minds.”

“Right. So Tony and Bruce, we all know that you two are geniuses. What are your feelings on expanding the teachings of STEM courses to not only high school, but as far back as elementary school or even kindergarten?” The pair thought about the question before answering.

“Well, I definitely think that offering STEM-based classes at a younger age would be beneficial, especially if we were to allow the kids to continue to switch what they want to focus on.” Bruce started. “It’s incredibly anxiety-inducing for teenagers to have to decide what they’re going to do with their life right before they are thrust into an unforgiving world.”

“Yeah, I’ll never understand why we do that to our future leaders, it’s honestly baffling. Why do American schools wait until high school to require our children to learn foriegn languages, they aren’t going to retain that information. The same applies for such comprehensive courses like STEM-based ones. If you wait until their brains are already developed so far, then they’ve already decided what they think is interesting and if they don’t find those courses interesting then they aren’t going to pay attention.” Tony finished Bruce's thought before nodding to each other smugly, obviously proud of themselves for answering the question so well.

“Interesting that you see it that way. This last one goes out to everyone and then we’ll open it up to the reporters. How do you deal with the stress and anxiety that comes with being an Avenger? Do you feel a certain amount of pressure to always do the right thing?” Stacey shuffled her papers, tapping them twice on the podium.

“We all have our own routines and ways that we decompress after missions so that really just depends on the person. Like I think that Bruce listens to opera music, and Wanda mediatates, Tony tinkers. It depends on the person.” Natasha answered concisely, making Bucky nod his head. He could recall all of those things to be true.

“Oh definitely, and it doesn’t hurt that we have a former VA Trauma Counselor on board to help us work through the harder stuff.” Steve added a gesture of his head to Sam.

“Speaking of that Sam, just a quick question before we open it up. How difficult was it for you to transition from regular Air Force missions to Avenger level missions?” Sam made a face at Stacey before answering.

“Um, I mean, it’s not that different. You’re always fighting one of the Big Three-- aliens, androids, or wizards, no matter what department you’re working with. The only transition I had to deal with was the Tony Stark-erized suits. Now that I think of it, Tony, can we make it tighter?” Sam quipped making the room laugh with ease.

“Alright, well now we’re going to open it up to the reporters. Starting with this gentleman in the front and then if we could also give a microphone to someone on that side of the room. Okay, thank you.” The first reporter stood up, holding the microphone in one hand and his phone in the other.

“Hello. John from Huffington Post. The Avengers inspire almost everyone around the world, so we would like to know who inspires you? Who do you look up to in terms of your idols?” He sat back down as the team contemplated their answers.

“Gandhi.” Bruce said, Tony snapped his fingers and pointed at him then added. “Pepper, she’s so amazing.” Steve looked down to Bucky, who shrugged.

“I would probably have to say that my sister, Sarah, inspires me. She raised her two sons, Cas and AJ, by herself after the Blip and was able to keep the family business going.” Sam’s answer made Bucky smile. Sam had brought him to their house in Delacroix, he remembered waking up to Cas and AJ playing in the kitchen, happy giggles filtering through reminding him of his time in Wakanda. By the time that Bucky had refocused on the conversation they had moved on without his answer. Several different questions went by, all directed to the team at large, until Chad.

“Hi, I’m Chad for the Daily Mail. My question is for Wanda and Natasha.” The pair of women perked up, excited to have a specific question. “Do you find that your equipment hinders you in doing your job as well as your male counterparts?” Stunned expressions settled over the womens faces, then annoyance. Bucky’s brows shot up to his hairline, appalled that someone had the balls to ask that. Wanda and Natasha handled the question with grace and much more restraint than Bucky would have.

“Well for me, I am able to move things with my mind so I can throw things randomly at people even if I’m not in the room. I’ve been very fortunate to work with Natasha who has Widow training, so my hand to hand combat is improving immensely. And being able to work with Princess Shuri in Wakanda to learn how to fully control my powers. It’s an ever evolving process that I’m always excited to take on.” Bucky nodded and turned his attention to Natasha.

“My favorite thing is training with either Steve or Bucky because they push me to do my best. We all have our specialties here and it’s nice to learn new skills or improve old ones with people who support you.” Natasha sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, throwing daggers with her eyes at Chad in the audience, waiting for him to say something else. Chad stood again, yelling so he could be heard over the crowd’s commotion.

“That’s great, ladies, but forgive me, you didn’t answer the question I asked.” Bucky pushed forward in his seat, leaning into his microphone.

“I’m sorry, I think I misunderstood what you asked them then. I would like for you to clarify what you mean by equipment.” Chad balked, not expecting a male’s voice to respond.

“You know what’s implied by equipment, sir.” Bucky’s jaw clenched at the man.

“Did you just ask two of the most capable women that I’ve ever known, if their equipment, which I’m assuming you’re referring their breasts, made it to where they couldn’t do their job as good as the rest of their male counterparts. Just to be clear, that’s what you’re asking?” Chad stuttered as he answered yes.

“Right, well first off that’s disgusting. Just a bit of background for you, Wanda is the strongest Avenger here, plain and simple. As for Natasha, she’s the smartest woman I’ve ever met and she can take down every single male here.” Bucky took a breath before continuing. “So, what I think you really want to know is how they encourage their teammates to keep up with them.” He dropped his head to look at the two women down the line.

“Don’t worry Chad, I’ll ask them the right question, since you can’t quite seem to understand how to respect women.” The team was holding back snickers at Chad’s reaction. “Wanda, Natasha. Chad wants to know how the hell you push your male teammates to be just as good as you are. What are your strategies to keep us on our toes while training?” Claps sounded from the women press members and Bucky awaited the pair's response. The next press member stood and asked a question.

“Hi, I’m Chloe from Vanity Fair. This question goes to everyone on the panel.” Bucky settled in for another question that didn’t matter. “How do you continue to be aware of things happening in our society today? Do you keep up-to-date through new channels, or social media?” The answers were rather generic from the team, all of them rather uncomfortable from the tension that Bucky and Chad had created. Stacey interrupted after Chloe’s question.

“Okay, we’re going to open it up to viewer questions from our live stream.” An iPad was placed on the podium in front of Stacey and her eyebrows rose. “Okay, there’s quite a variety here. Here’s one for Steve and Bucky.” Bucky perked up, nervous to answer because his adrenaline had worn off.

“One viewer asks, ‘Steve and Bucky, being from the 40’s, women were treated like second thoughts and were talked about like objects. Now, you’re in the 21st century, not much has changed. What have you been doing to support feminist causes?’”

“I just want to say that everyone should be answering this. It’s true that during the 40’s women were not treated the right way, and they still aren’t today. An 18 year old can’t walk down the street at nine o’clock at night without being catcalled. I am a proud feminist, as everyone should be. I think that as a team we are doing pretty well in that department. As far as what I’m doing to support feminist causes, I’m doing as much as I can. I actually recently enrolled in online classes to expand my knowledge on many subjects, seeing as how I am from the 40’s and all.” The crowd laughed along with Bucky.

“Almost all of my classes have to do with either psychology or gender studies, it’s a fascinatingly haunting subject. One book that I’m reading right now was suggested to me by my friend Cassie, it’s called Hood Feminism: Notes from the Women that a Movement Forgot. The author doesn’t let up and I’m only halfway through it. Look, I’m still educating myself, but I’m a strong believer in doing what is right for everyone, so I’m trying. Thankfully I have a few people keeping me in check as far as my actions.” Bucky thought his response was well thought out for being an on the fly question. He was new to the concept of feminism but that didn’t change the fact that it made total sense.

“I’m with Bucky on this. The 40’s were a rough time. I remember the first time I met Peggy Carter, I was astonished that a woman could be in such a powerful position. One of the first things she did after I met her was punch out someone who made a sexual comment to her. I’ve been supporting feminist causes ever since working with Peggy.” Steve added, a sad smile spreading on his face reminiscing Peggy.

“This one says, ‘As a total fan of all of you, I love seeing what you post on your social media accounts. When are the rest of the Avengers going to follow Bucky’s lead and download TikTok?’” Bucky’s head flew back into a full body laugh. Tony shifted forward in his seat, pointing his finger at the laughing man down the table.

“I would just like to say he didn’t get that approved before doing it. However, it did go over really well, so we’ll consider it.” Wanda’s mouth rolled inwards, stifling her laughter.

“We’ll consider it, you’re such an old man. Most of us have TikTok already, we just don’t make content on it like Barnes over here.” Sam said, tossing his head in Bucky’s direction.

“I’ve got like three videos on there!” Bucky and Sam began bantering back and forth.

“Yeah and one of them is dancing to a Cardi B song! Who even showed you that? I thought you only like 40’s music?” Bucky made a face at the man.

“Uh, just because I didn’t like your suggestions for music doesn’t mean I don’t have taste. My Spotify playlist is filling out quite nicely, Wilson.” Bucky and Sam didn’t quit fighting from then on, just little jabs at each other under the table.

“Here’s a good one,” Stacey had a smile on her face, “Are you allies of the LGBTQ+ community?” Bucky responded quickly with no hesitation.

“Yes, many of my friends are members of the Alphabet Mafia. Why wouldn’t we be?” Wanda nodded at his question, laughing at his use of the phrase Alphabet Mafia.

“Yeah, absolutely. I mean, I’m dating a fucking android, I’d be pretty hypocrictal if I wasn’t an ally. Nat, Clint what about you?” Clint bobbed his head in response.

“Oh yeah. We all are, even the Star Spangled Man with a Plan.” Steve’s shoulders shook with laughter at Clint’s nickname for him. The team broke out into laughter, joining Steve. Stacey cleared her throat, commanding the attention of the room again.

“Alright, everybody! That’s it for today.” She glanced down at her papers. “We would like to thank everyone for coming out today and joining the Avengers Q&A Panel. At this time we are unaware, if we will be conducting another one of these, but the odds look good based on the response.” The team filed out of the ballroom and into the empty boardroom. Bucky was the last to get into the room and he was approached by Natasha and Wanda immediately. Wanda wrapped her arms around him in a bear hug.

“That was so sick, Bucky!” She stepped back and Natasha offered him a side hug as well. “Where’d you learn all that? And since when are you taking online classes?”

“That guy was being an asshole, he needed to be put in his place. I hope you guys didn’t feel like I overstepped or anything.” Bucky hung his arm over Wanda’s shoulder, leaning his weight on her. “And I started about two months ago. They’re going really well, I’m learning a lot and enjoying it surprisingly. It’s a good thing to do in my free time since I’m not always on missions.”

“I’m proud of you James, that was impressive.” Natasha complimented him, she wasn’t usually a woman of many words so that was a lot. Bucky smiled at her, nodding his head. His phone began buzzing in his back pocket, so he excused himself from their conversation. His screen displayed one of Evie’s senior pictures, signalling that she was calling him. He pushed the green button and brought the phone to his ear to answer her call.

“Hello?” She ignored his greeting with a squeal.

“Check your Twitter! Bucky, you’re trending! Here I’m putting you on speaker, we’re all here Buck!” Shuffling noises were heard through the speaker as Evie began reading the tweets to Bucky. Laughs from Cassie, Freddie and Penny could be heard behind Evie’s voice.

“Oh my gosh Eve! Just let the man get back to what he was doing!” Freddie yelled at an excited Evie, who retaliated with a scoff.

“Okay, okay! Just remember we have a movie night tomorrow! It’s Penny’s turn to pick so we don’t know what to expect.” Evie mumbled the last part into her phone speaker. Bucky heard the impact of a pillow hit Evie, causing her to grunt in pain. “Okay! We’ll talk to you later, Buck! See you soon!” She hung up the phone before he could get a word in edgewise. Bucky shook his head as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. Amanda approached Bucky asking to speak with him privately.

“So we’re getting a flood of interview requests from networks and papers. We would like to start running with this. We’ll have to go over everything with our PR guy, Ryan, but it should work out. As long as you’re comfortable with all of this.” Bucky smiled and nodded, following after Amanda as she continued explaining what would happen going forward.

He was nervous, of course, but he could tell these nerves were coming from a place of excitement instead of fear, which was a new sensation for the man. It wasn’t unwelcome, it was the same as when he first started hanging out with Cassie, Penny, Freddie and Evie. It was the same when he went on his first mission with the team. Bucky was ready to tackle this next adventure, whatever it would entail.

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cryoaquila · 3 years

Text

handmade prom

prompt - you always wanted to go to prom but never got the chance. diluc knows your dream and decides to take matters into his own hands.

pairings - diluc x gn!reader

tags - established relationship, modern au, fluff.

wc - ~2.5k

a/n - confession i’ve never been to prom.

you stuff your hands into your pockets, searching for your keys. work today had been difficult, but at the very least you were off tomorrow which was one saving grace of the evening. the keys jingle in your hand as you unlock the door, stepping inside your house with a thankful sigh, happy to be home.

“hey, how was work?” you were quite surprised to hear your boyfriend’s voice upon entering for usually he worked well into the night and left early in the morning to oversee his vineyard. his voice was a much more pleasant sound to your ears than the customers and coworkers that snapped at you earlier today.

“oh, same old same... old...” you pause midsentence upon seeing diluc sitting on the living room couch dressed in a white dress shirt that was worn under a black vest accompanied by a black tie and slacks. his red hair was tied back into a sleek ponytail and there was a bouquet of flowers sitting in his lap. “well, hello handsome,” you cheekily flirt and he adverts his gaze away from you, a light blush crossing his face. “what’s the special occasion?” you ask, walking over to where he was sitting.

“i got reservations to a nice restaurant for us. just a little surprise since i know work hasn’t been the best lately,” he says, glancing back at you while adding, “that’s why i’m dressed like this and home earlier than usual... i even freed up tomorrow so that i can spend it with you.”

“aw, that’s so sweet of you!” you beam, leaning down to give him a peck on the cheek. he smiles satisfyingly, wrapping his arms around your upper back and pulling you in for a hug.

“sorry that it’s short notice, but i knew you had tomorrow off so...” he mutters, his voice muffled against your shirt.

“it’s alright,” you remark cheerfully, “it’s so thoughtful of you and cute that you wanted to keep it a surprise!” you feel the hug tighten as he squeezes you upon hearing the word ‘cute’ and you giggle, knowing you succeeded in embarrassing him, a task that you enjoyed doing for the adorable results it yielded.

after a moment longer, he, reluctantly, lets you out of the hug, flashing you a small grin, “i’m glad you’re happy with it. we have some time, why don’t you go change out of your work clothes?” he holds the bouquet slightly up, showing the arrange of your favorite flowers, “then i can give you this properly.”

“ah, an incentive, huh?” you say, already heading toward the bedroom, “give me a bit to get cleaned up and get out of these awful work clothes, then we can leave.”

he stood from the couch upon hearing the bedroom door open. out you came, dressed to impress, and impress him you did indeed. “whoa.’ he gapes under his breath in awe at how you look, his cheeks pinkening upon hearing his own amazed voice. he clears his throat, “h-here.” he stammers, holding the bouquet of flowers out toward you, “you look... um, fantastic.” he compliments you with a gentle tone as you take the bouquet from him.

“thanks!” you hug the flowers to your chest, their sweet scent mixing with your fresh clothing. “where are we going tonight, anyway?”

diluc simply shook his head no, his mouth curling into a tiny smile, “you’ll have to wait and see.” you hum, walking over to the kitchen to grab a vase for the flowers before the two of you leave. as you do so, he questions in a hushed tone, “do you trust me?”

“of course.” you reply with a scoff as you fill the vase with water and place the flowers inside, “what kind of question is that?” you inquire, turning on your heels to face him with a raised eyebrow. that’s what you notice what’s now in his hand, “seriously? a blindfold?”

he shrugs as the smile on his lips quickly disappears into a worried frown, “you don’t have to if you don’t want to. i just wanted the surprise to last a little longer, but if you’re not ok with it-” he says hastily, trying to rectify his proposal in case you didn’t approve.

you walk over to him as he continues, still trying to both justify the blindfold and make sure you know it’s totally alright if you didn’t want to wear it. you give him a soft kiss on the nose, causing his yammering to stop with a sigh. “hm, it’s fine, if you really want to keep it a surprise for that long, then go ahead. i’m game.” you turn around and bend your head forward a little so he can wrap the fabric gently around you, covering your sight completely before tying it in the back.

“can’t see anything, right?”

you purse your lips, adjusting the cloth to sit a little more comfortably on your face before responding, “not a thing.”

“good, let’s get going then.” you had plenty of guesses on where he was taking you and, as he grabs you by your hand and begins whisking you away to travel to whatever destination he had in mind, you list off all your guesses which he simply responds to every single one of them with a simple “no.”

“we’re here,” he says, parking the car before getting out to go open your door and help you out. as you step out of the vehicle and into the crisp night you hear the faint sounds of music that you could only guess was coming from this ‘restaurant’ of his.

“where’s here, exactly?” you question, placing a hand on your hip, “diluc i don’t smell any food, and what’s with this music? it doesn’t sound fancy at all...” you reach to slide the blindfold up a smidgeon to peak, but he quickly pushes it back down before you can see anything.

“no-no, we’re almost there, don’t ruin the surprise now.” he chuckles upon hearing you sigh, knowing that you’re rolling your eyes under the blindfold. “come now,” he takes a hold of your hand, both of you taking a step forward, but the small, uneven rocks underneath cause you to stumble into him. he catches you, helping you gain your footing once again, “sorry.” he utters, “the ground is a little rough here... may i carry you there?”

you smirk, wrapping an arm around the back of his shoulders, ready for him to pick you up, “you’re going to such lengths to keep this a surprise, it must be an amazing place!”

“it is quite amazing... seriously, it’ll all be worth it soon.” he picks you up bridal style and whisks you off to this so-called ‘restaurant’ that you were seriously doubting was a restaurant at all. you feel him adjust the way he’s holding you to open a door, a burst of air conditioning brushing your face as he steps inside. the faint music suddenly becomes much louder now that the two of you were indoors and the beat pulsates within your ears and throughout your body, and, even behind the blindfold, the bright lights bleed through the cloth. you could hear excited chattering and cheers as he helps you back down onto your feet before sliding the blindfold off in a single pull.

you blink a few times, your eyes adjusting to the sights before you. you were inside a large, open-floor warehouse that was decorated in a beautiful array of illumination and streamers. tables circled around a wooden dancefloor where lights and people danced across joyfully. at the back of the dancefloor was a slightly risen stage-like area where a musician with double braids - oh, wait, you’ve seen him before, didn’t he owe diluc a debt...? well, he was in charge of the music for the evening. ribbons were strung across the vaulted ceiling accompanied by fairy lights and large white tapestries which surrounded the area. against one of the side walls was an elongated, large table decorated in a white tablecloth that had plenty of hors d’oeuvres and bowls of punch for everyone. on the other side of the room there was a bunch of small games to be played and even a photo booth with humorous props outside the drawn curtain.

“this is...” you mutter in shock as diluc slides something onto your wrist. you glance down at the floral corsage he had given. as he tried to clip his own matching corsage onto his vest you glance back at the sights before you, taking it all in once more. the guests in attendance, a mixture of your friends and even a couple of his own, were waving at you or saying ‘surprise!’ or taking a quick picture of your surprised face for memories.

diluc, who had finished putting his corsage on, says to you as you continue looking around at everything he had done, “i know you wanted to go to prom but didn’t get the chance in high school, so i took matters into my own hands and... rented this venue and worked decorating it and getting everything together. o-oh, i guess i’m supposed to ask you this beforehand but...” he turns to face you, taking both your hands into his, “would you like to be my prom date for the evening?”

you grin from ear to ear before jumping into his arms, hugging him tightly, “of course i’ll go to prom with you, love! this is amazing!” you exclaim, tears of happiness accumulating in the corners of your eyes.

he looks at you with a soft gaze and a loving little smile, gently wiping the tears away with his thumb, “well then my dear,” he says as he eases you back down and out of his arms, “what would you want to do first? the night is yours to dictate.”

your eyes glance around the venue, a little overwhelmed by all the choices that were laid out before you. “hm...” you mutter, scratching the back of your head, deep in thought. just as you were about to admit that there were too many great options for you to pick just one, a song you love begins blaring throughout the room. the dancefloor, the bright lights, and the fast-paced music all call to you and you grab diluc’s hand, yanking him to the dance floor without giving him any warning. his face is a little flushed as you pull him for a dance and he awkwardly stands by you as you try to get him to dance with you. he crosses his arms, tapping his foot against the wooden floor to the beat of the song as he frowns.

“you know i’m only good at slow dances... but...” he sighs, looking at the ground self-consciously before muttering, “if you don’t mind getting embarrassed by my dance moves...” just as he agrees, the people on the dance floor begin swapping partners to the chorus of the song. someone grabs your hand and pulls you away from diluc before you even got a chance to dance with him. “w-wait!” he says, trying to grab you back from your new dance partner, but his hand was intercepted and he was swiftly taken away by someone that wasn’t you.

even though you wanted to be with him, you couldn’t deny that swapping dance partners for a time was fun; not to mention his expression was well worth it, a stifled snicker coming from your mouth as you watch him try to dance with some stranger. his pout and sour expression were humorous to see as his dance partner dragged him around to his least favorite type of dance. your own dance partner was... something. you didn’t know him, probably one of diluc’s friends - his dancing was a mixture of eccentric and peculiar, and seemed more impressed with his own dance moves than dancing with you as, multiple times, he would let go of your hands and dance by his lonesome in front of you. you’d watch and let him do his thing - admittedly, his dancing wasn’t half bad, but you only wanted to dance with your ‘prom date’. as your dance partner takes your hand once again he begins to spin you around. you notice diluc wading through the dancers to reach you and, as he does so, you reach out to take his hand, but your swirling dance partner lets his grasp slip and you stumble into a small group all dancing together. they catch you, helping you stabilize before gushing and circling around you.

“oh look who it is! prom royalty right here!” they gape and clamor around you, happily accepting you into their conversation and dance group. you glance to where diluc was standing and he looked very unimpressed with the whole situation, glaring at the new dance partners that have claimed you. you shrug before, suddenly, your last dance partner takes his hand, causing you to cover your mouth quickly in laughter as he was once again pulled away into the same style of dance that you just endured. you turn your attention back to the group who were chattering with each other along with giggling and squealing at how wonderful you looked, how beautiful the venue was, and how lucky diluc was to have you - which you add that you were quite lucky to have diluc for, under that stoic appearance was a big softie. they snicker, and you wonder if his ears were burning for if he had heard you call him a big softie his face would surely get as red as his hair. admittedly, the group tires you out quickly, unable to keep up with their fast-talking conversations and dancing and you soon find yourself looking around for diluc once more.

thankfully, as if the musician knew you were tiring of the craziness, the fast-paced song comes to an end and a slow yet graceful romantic tune replaces it. the lights begin to dim as people start to leave the dancefloor, including the group of friends you were with. now, only couples were on the dancefloor, swaying in an embrace to the slow rhythm. the pause gives you a moment to breathe and take in the new mood, your body relaxing now that the quick-paced tune, partner swapping, and chatter was replaced by soft tunes and dark blue hues.

suddenly, you feel a tap on your shoulder and you turn around to diluc holding out his hand for you to take. “may i have this dance?” he asks, and you smile, taking his hand into yours. he brings you close to him and you rest your head gently onto his shoulder, swaying to the soft rhythm of the music. you close your eyes and let diluc wrap his arms around your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck in an embrace. for what felt like an eternity, it was just the two of you and nothing else; the people surrounding you, the decorations, the scents, all fading into the background as you stay wrapped in each other’s arms. sadly, an eternity it was not, for one of his hands leaves your waist and you miss the warmth. diluc looks at you with a sweet smile gracing his lips, a rare sight for most, but not for you. “enjoying the evening?”

“this is a dream come true,” you whisper back, nestling your forehead against his chest, not wanting to let go and not wanting the night to become morning any time soon.

he rubs your back lovingly, kissing the top of your head and, as if he could read your mind, he reminds you, “there’s plenty of time left to enjoy all the amenities here, and i even have some post-prom activities planned for just the two of us.”

you smile, glancing at him before pressing your lips to his, “i love you.” you say after breaking the kiss, “i’m so happy that my one and only prom date is with you; i wouldn’t want it any other way.”

he looks longingly at you, caressing your cheek gently, "i love you too.” he says under his breath before bringing his lips to yours again in a passionate kiss, dancing becoming the last thing on both your mind’s as you stay, locked together as one, uncaring of those around you. for now it was just the two of you. for now and the rest of the night, it would be just the two of you spending time together at the prom he had made for you, and, even though the night was still young, you were already satisfied with the evening that he had given you.

#genshin impact #diluc #diluc x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #diluc x gn!reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact writing #genshin imagines #diluc scenarios #reader x diluc #written

67 notes · View notes

bitacrytic · 3 years

Text

11 months gone

4 hours after

"... the president's approval ratings have, once again, taken a dip as the fourth chief judge of the live show resigns amidst scandal and shame. Sources reveal, that the ministry of justice has reached out to the two remaining judges from the original court, Kim Gaon and Oh Jinjoo. No word on what their responses were, but given that they have both distanced themselves from the live show for the last eleven months, we expect another set of rejections."

Gaon stood, arms folded as he watched the news while a group of preteen kids potted some new plants around him. He was dressed in a yellow shirt, green boots and green overalls that he tied at his waist. He wasn’t in his freshest state, but at least, he was more presentable than the woman standing beside him.

Jinjoo was a mess. Her hair was outside the hair net, her face had dirt, her shirt was torn and she’d taken off her overalls hours ago, so the slacks she was wearing had received permanent damage. And in all that, she refused to accept the fact that plants and farming were not just for her.

“They’re really desperate,” she said sniffing and wiping at her nose with her dirty hand that only added more dirt to her face.

“It’s a complete shit show.”

“Maybe you should say yes, this time.”

Gaon bit his upper lip to keep from responding because, yes. He had been considering it for a while now. The judges didn’t seem to know what they were doing, allowing themselves to be moved around by the president and his goons. They’d gotten rid of the live voting and replaced it with a “central collective” that was said to calculate the votes, out of the view of the audience and then portray the percentage difference for everyone to see. It was so obvious what they were doing.

There was no way Gaon was ever going to put his name on all that. He knew that if he went up there, he’d get in serious trouble from day one because he’d announce his own thing, seek justice and step on every toe without remorse.

“Why don’t you do it?” he asked Jinjoo.

“Because this shelter is my life now. I want to be here.”

“Are you saying I don’t want to be here?”

“Come on, we both know you were meant for that job. Judge Kang was grooming you for it. I could tell.”

“He was not.”

Yohan was trying to get in Gaon’s head. He was trying to manipulate Gaon. He may have tried to get in Gaon’s bed a time or two. But he was definitely not grooming Gaon to take over.

“Are you kidding me?” Jinjoo asked, hands on her hips in frustration. “He was mentoring you. How do you not known that? He spent all that time with you on the job, always trying to teach you something. Always looking at you to gage your reactions. “Oh, I did this flashy thing and got a reaction from the president, but Gaon dear what did you think of it?””

“Urgh, don’t say it like that.”

“He was teaching you, Gaon. Maybe it wasn’t obvious to you but it was obvious to everyone else that he seemed to have a vested interest in you.”

“He had a vested interest but not for the reasons you think.”

Jinjoo smacked Gaon upside the head.

“Ow!”

“You know, us multicellular organisms are capable of multitasking, Gaon. The fact that he wanted to sleep with you doesn’t negate the fact that he wanted to teach you.”

Gaon’s jaw dropped. He looked around at the children and was pleased to note that none of them were listening. Satisfied, he dragged Jinjoo out of the playroom, to the front of the building.

“Oh my god.”

“Don’t even deny it. You two were plain as day.”

“We weren’t doing anything,” at the time, he refrained from adding.

Yohan had visited a total of nine times since Yohan faked his death a year ago. And he definitely wasn’t visiting Gaon to talk about the live court show or mentor him. But Gaon couldn’t exactly tell Jinjoo that without revealing the fact that Yohan was still alive.

“You were living in his house.”

“Doesn’t mean-"

“And the standing at each other's hip?”

��Coincidence.”

“Two times is a coincidence. Fifty is a lifestyle.”

Gaon was trying not freak out. If Jinjoo had noticed, who else had noticed? They were in fron5 of the country, three hours a week. What did people see? Lawyer Ko... oh god. And Elijah... Gaon sighed in agony, letting go of Jinjoo as he cringed inwardly.

“You two weren’t very subtle.”

“Ironically, there was nothing to hide.”

At the time, Yohan was careful. Didn’t push too many boundaries. He never said the wrong thing. Some days, Gaon was convinced it was all in his head. But then Yohan would get all up in Gaon’s space, patting his chest, touching his shoulders, staring in Gaon’s eyes like he was some interesting TV show. Messed with Gaon’s head but he at least knew he wasn’t imagining that.

He sat on the curb and rested his hands on his knees.

“None of that matters now, Gaon.” She sat beside him. “I have my shelter and I’m satisfied. You? You always seem like you want more. You don’t have to do it forever. If it doesn’t work out, you can always quit and come back here.”

“Thanks for the confidence boost.”

“I mean it. I know you want to do it. I can see it in your eyes every time you watch the show.”

“Am I supposed to just leave you here alone?”

“I won’t be alone. I have my secret donor and those two.”

She nodded in the direction of the field where Dongsik-hyung was leading a bunch of teenagers in some late evening exercise while Juwon-hyung tinkered with something under the shelter bus.

There was a lot of truth to what she was saying. Gaon could try it out. See what was left for him in the live court. Maybe help out a community or two. And if that didn’t work out, he’d still be Gaon. And he’d still have a place to return to in Munju.

#the devil judge #epilogue series #bitafics

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delu-jean · 3 years

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧: 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐔𝐩 𝐓𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮

(Jea x fem!/reader) -> Angst -> 4.2k

XII > XIV

You and Reiner picked some flowers. They lay in one of the baskets you brought. They sat beautifully, making you reminisce the night Jean had given you that violet. Though these flowers were a lot larger, and the hue was more vibrant, the meaning behind that violet shone brighter than those characteristics combined. You grinned at such a thought, while Reiner kept on climbing the tree.

You felt bad since you weren’t helping him gather the apples. Someone needed to hold the basket, making sure they didn’t touch the ground. Since the tree was becoming more barren as the years passed, the less fruit it would bear. So, you had to make sure no apples went to waste. Still, watching him do all of that hard work made you feel guilty. He reassured you (before), saying that it was better for him to actually do something right (since he trampled a lot of plants when picking flowers). So you let him be. Watching as each fruit fell.

“It’s been a while...do you remember this place, Y/n?”

“Of course I do…” you then gazed at the scenery in front of you. Being reminded of that one moment, that last moment you had felt such peace in Marely. The moment where Bertholdt had scurried to get you, the moment where you never thought that things would take such a turn.

You looked at Reiner to see the guilt which struck him. Not only that, but the guilt then crept onto you. That peace was one which could never come back, along with Bertholdt himself. You felt burdened to say the least. Knowing how his best friend had died, yet not being allowed to tell him (since Jean’s cover would blow). It saddened you knowing how much weight was on his shoulders. Never knowing what had truly happened, but instead, escaping with survivor’s guilt.

“Ah, two coming!”

“Got it!” you caught them in your basket. Time passed as more apples stacked. He then decided to break the silence once again.

“Do you ever wish that we could be kids again?”

“Of course I do,” he nods in agreement.

“If I could change one thing...just one of the many things in our childhood...it would be the fate we held in the military. Wishing things could have been different, and that you all could’ve been here,” you noticed how he didn’t say “we,” but instead said “you.” That meant he had wished you were all here, but not necessarily himself. You were going to question him, until he spoke yet again.

“For Bertholdt to see such a sight. To see how grown the both of us have become, and...to see his family...just once more. Maybe even confess to Annie if he had the guts to,” you saw the pained expression he had which made you feel the same.

“Bertholdt would be happy for us, especially since we’ve grown so much with the time given.”

---

“Yeah...I guess so,” he then picked the last of the apples and came down. In the process, one of the better apples fell, cracking with the contact of the ground. Funny enough, it reminded you of Bertholdt. Since he unfortunately was one, if not, the sweetest apple. One who just had to fall far from the tree above.

You both stepped into your house. Feeling tired as your arms limped, along with Reiner’s. You started to look around, wanting to see if Jean was at home. Lurking through the bedroom, and even checking your closet. Unfortunately (for you) he wasn’t. It’s almost as if he was gone with the wind. You felt a little bummed as Reiner stepped into the kitchen. Placing the baskets down, and washing his hands (readying himself for the session yet to come). He then asked you in a loud tone, hoping you would hear.

“What are you doing Y/n?”

“Oh, I’m looking for a pot!” you shouted back.

“In your bedroom?”

“Haha, yeah,” you were still feeling upset...but then remembered that you were the person who told him to leave (secretly regretting it qwq).

You then walked over to Reiner, ready to help him make the pie. You both washed the apples, peeled, and chopped them. Reiner was a little klutzy with the knife, handling it like a weapon in battle. You found it quite funny, and guided his hands. Hoping he wouldn’t cut himself. To your surprise he didn’t, and ended up seasoning the fruit with different spices, sugars, and ingredients. When that was done, you put him in charge of kneading the crust. You (of course) mixed and measured the ingredients, and after doing so, told him to be gentle with the dough. Hoping his rough hands would maintain, and not ruin such a delicacy.

You started to heat the filling as you monitored him from afar. He really was a quick learner, yet still needed to work on some of his skills. You wondered how Jean would’ve made the pie. If he would’ve added his own flare, or crust designs. Just thinking about it made you excited, hoping you both could someday. Reiner then started to roll, and place the crust. You both then finished your tasks. Thrilled with the results of your hard work.

“Phew, thanks for your help Reiner.”

“No problem. That was...a lot harder than I thought it would be.”

“Mhm...oh yeah! I left some filling here for you. I tasted it and thought it wasn’t sweet enough, but I kept it that way since you know...Bertholdt preferred ‘natural’ sugars,” you smirked as Reiner tried a spoonful.

“Haha, yup. Reminds me of Bertholdt. Also it's really tasty.”

“That’s good! Okay, let’s put it away now,” you put both the filling, and crust away. Letting both rest separately so you could bake them tomorrow (before meeting the families).

“I’ll pop it in the oven before leaving.”

“Sounds good. Thanks for letting me help...or contribute at least. Sorry if I was a nuisance.”

“Haha no, thanks for helping in general. Two pairs of hands are better than one, and you gave loads of help,” he then smiled, slipping his coat and shoes on.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

“No, I insist. I’ll come instead. You’ve been walking me home a LOT as of recently. Let me come get ya instead,” he seemed hesitant when you answered. Not sure as to why, you tried asking hoping you could hear his reasons. But instead he pestered you, insisting on grabbing you instead. Now you could understand Jean (in some way). Not being able to understand him directly...was making you feel frustrated. Not only that, but you weren’t able to understand why he was acting like that.

Regardless, you eventually gave it. Though you found it suspicious, you decided to say no more. Not wanting to add tension, and instead, respecting his choice.

“Okay fine. Get me near ten-ish?”

---

“Alright, sounds good.”

You got up, did your morning routine, got dressed, and had a filling meal. Each year, you and Reiner didn’t wear anything formal. Rather, you both stuck with a simple semi-formal outfit (didn’t want to be too formal, nor too casual). You never wore the same clothing, but rather, switched it up while trying to stay coordinated. This year, you decided to match in white, and beige. You wore a dress shirt, your sleeves puffed, filled with lace, two ribbons (on each side), a beige skirt which reached your legs, and a straw hat. While Reiner wore a beige cardigan, beige slacks, a dress shirt, along with a fleece vest. Though it was a semi-hot day, it was hotter than cold. So he decided to hold his cardigan for the majority of the time. He also brought a black leather watch, and a brown fedora (type of hat). You decided not to go all out since you wanted your interactions to seem civil. Nothing up top to make the families feel comfortable.

You first went to the Galliard’s. Porco was home and didn’t seem happy with Reiner being there. Though there was some awkward tension, Reiner did his best to ignore any dirty glances. Trying to remember this visit wasn’t about Porco, but instead, Marcel.

“You know, Marcel was a boy with less aspirations for himself, but instead for the people around him,” Mr. Galliard stated.

Last night, Jean didn’t make his way back. You were a tad sad. Not being able to sleep with him there...felt unnatural. You really didn’t feel at ease in your own home. Constantly wondering where he was, if he was okay, or if he really had business. You honestly weren’t sure, but regardless, tried sleeping since today was important.

“I never saw my son as a child, rather, the embodiment of an adult. One with the thoughts, and responsibility of a grown man. I felt, and still do feel guilty though...he never got the chance to be one. To experience the childhood he should have.”

“Mhm,” you nodded after he said that.

“I truly regret not making him live the life of a child, and it pains me that he was instead forced to be an adult,” his wife then put a hand on her husband’s. Giving him a stare out of grief, yet relief as she then eyed the both of you.

“If my son had seen where you both are, he would be proud. He would be amazed with the work you both put in, and know that we are as well. We’ve seen the work Reiner puts in with Porco, doing his best to serve Marley with their titans. Along with you, Y/n. As you encourage and guide the Eldians to be the best they can. Both in the battlefield, and themselves personally. We truly are indebted, and hope you two will continue in the work you do for as long as possible.”

“Ah I see, I’m glad our efforts have paid off. I have to agree though, Marcel truly was a great person-”

“Tch,” Porco snarled as his mother then elbowed him. Reiner then continued to talk. Telling the three about the gift chosen, how you both thought it would suit Marcel, and who he was. Not just a comrade, but a dear friend as well. The pendant shone beautifully, and had a glint just like Marcel’s. The framing around the jewel caved around like it was a crown. Smooth, and precise edges, along with a clean finishing. The back also had an engraving of his name, along with leather straps which could detach. Framed in the box it came with and accompanied by two letters.

“You can read them whenever you would like. Although, I do recommend doing so when alone,” you told them, and then made your way to the door. Porco decided to escort you out. Though both you, and Reiner expected a cold gesture, he instead gave you an unexpected one.

“Thanks...for the gift. It means a lot.”

---

“Yes of course, no need to thank us,” Reiner responded for the door to then shut.

You both went to Annie’s house, hoping her father would be home. To your dismay...he wasn’t there...like always (on that day specifically). You tried knocking the door yet again, but to your “shock,” there’s no response. You see...on this day specifically, he refused to see either of you. He knew that your gestures were filled with good intent, but just...couldn’t bring himself to do it. He would always see you both whenever else, knowing that the topic wouldn’t arise.

“Let’s get going...Mrs. Hoover is expecting us.”

---

“Got it...Y/n.”

Still, it saddened you to say the least. The poor man was so hurt, and he couldn’t bring up the topic. Though you wanted to console him, even with the time given, it seemed like it wasn’t going to happen. You placed the box on his doorstep, leaving a note telling him of the gift, and why you chose it. Hoping he would keep it with him, and store it safely.

“Ah Y/n, Reiner! I haven’t seen you both in a while! Come, come inside!” Bertholdt’s mother said, for the both of you to enter their house. Pulling out chairs while her husband did the same. His father then started to brew tea, while the three of you (Reiner, you, and Mrs. Hoover) sat down.

“How have you been?”

“And I as well,” Mr. Hoover then placed the tea. The two lovers smiled at each other, and then sat beside one another. You were glad they weren’t in tears, nor upset. His parents (surprisingly) seemed to have taken his death unexpectedly. Not as something light hearted, nor sympathetic, but rather...very “well” in your opinion. They mourned when you had returned with no trail of Bertholdt, but got themselves together. Making good of his passing instead of sulking.

Reiner then pulled out the basket of apples, handing it to them. While you showed the bouquet full of flowers. You also held the pie in your hands while his mother went to grab a vase.

“It looks lovely Y/n, I’m assuming you used the apples?”

“Oh, I’ve been well,” you responded.

“Yes ma'am. Bertholdt’s favourite.”

“Speaking of my dear son, my one and only child… Oh how he loved such delicacies. I wish I made him more when he was with us. Not only that, but he was one himself, and I wished we would’ve handled him with more care. Being more fragile with such a thing….”

You see, his parents were really invested into the whole “Honorary Marleyin,” and “warrior candidate” events. They just wanted their son to exceed, and to know that he could go above and beyond. But in said process, instead of doing that...it gave the opposite effect. Making him feel less if anything. He knew they loved him, but their encouragement...seemed more discouraging to Bertholdt if anything. Disregarding his feelings, and thoughts to the opposition, convincing him that he was strong enough and could do it.

Never considering his doubts, nor fears. Instead, brushing them off and telling him he could excel. There was no comfort whatsoever, instead, expectations and tension which were burdened to him...and him alone.

“That was probably why he was so timid...because of how we treated him…. I truly do regret such a thing, but I was relieved to hear how he was a great and loving person to the both of you. Even if we didn’t get what “we wanted” from him, he received the things that he wanted for himself. Pushing himself to his limits, and persevering...without us.”

“Yes, he truly was an amazing person. The closest friend I’ve ever had,” Reiner said with a sincere tone. The father then stepped in, saying:

“Bertholdt would’ve loved to see how you both had grown to be so mature, understanding, and great in general.”

“Since he loved you both so dearly, he also would’ve been glad at the decision you two are making, about becoming one. Also, congratulations on that. I hope you both have the happiest of times while you can. Though, I won’t lie, I wished Y/n were the one to marry Bertholdt (she said jokingly). But even so, I’m happy for both of you. Reiner, you’ve got yourself one lucky lady, and Y/n, you a lucky man.”

“Yeah...I guess so,” Reiner responded.

---

You then thought to yourself. Would Bertholdt actually be content with the engagement? Though his mother had thought “yes,” you had thought “no.” He probably would’ve opposed, saying that the marriage would’ve been pointless, and unsettling. That being the case, his opinion gave you yet another reason for your opposition.

You both were done for the day, and were relieved for that. You were glad that two out of the three were there, liked the gifts given, and that you were able to show respect towards your comrades. So being that, you both were now walking. Yes, your destination would be home, but you weren’t sure as to what detours would be made. Both you and Reiner actually. One thing you were sure about, was that the man beside you seemed frustrated. Even though he should've relaxed since your tasks had just finished.

“Y/n, I don’t want to assume...but…were you the person who might’ve leaked things?”

“Oh...no. It wouldn’t make sense for me to, in all honesty…”

But then at the same time, she might’ve assumed so because of how long you were taking. Thinking you must’ve made a decision (by now) and just didn’t want to be vocal about it. Of course, that wasn’t the case and you made it clear to Reiner. He then decided to switch up the conversation, trying to avert from the unwanted thought.

“I forgot to ask, but were you able to get home safely that night?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“That means...oh gosh,” that’s when you both realized that the only person who could’ve, and would’ve done so...was his mother. You also remembered what Alexandra said, about his mother being ecstatic about the engagement. That point secured your thoughts. She was probably very excited, and had no malicious intent involved. She just wanted the best for her son, and you as well (thinking Reiner was the best for you). Regardless, it kind of annoyed you. Especially since you hadn’t made the decision, and she inferred you had instead of asking/confirming.

“That’s good.”

“And you?”

“Yeah, I did. I walked Gabi home first, then made my way.”

“Ahh I see,” yout both walked further for him to ask:

“Where were you the morning after? I thought you’d be at HQ, like you always are.”

“Ah well…” you couldn’t tell him about Jean, so instead, told him about Alexandra.

“Well, a friend of mine came over. We caught up and….” you couldn’t say that you were talking about him (his looks to be more specific), so instead, brought up the first few things which came to mind.

“She um, congratulated me.”

“Oh really?” he seemed glad and you went on.

“Not only that, but that most of the town knows…and that your mother seems ecstatic.”

“Oh no…” You then saw a burdensome look on his face.

“Haha yeah. She also asked if I had a wedding dress, or ring. Which I found kind of funny-” He immediately cut in.

“So what was your response?”

“That I have neither.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hm?...the real question is, what do you mean Reiner?” you then stared at the gentleman, awaiting for his answer.

“Oh...it’s just that...you do have one.”

“What?..”

“Not a dress of course, but a ring.”

He then Proceeded to tell you that he did have one ready. He felt guilty knowing that you had told her “no.” He thought that maybe you had felt bad, being that your answer was “no,” even though he did have one prepared. After all, ladies did take marriage as a big deal. And even though it was one out of friendship, he didn’t want to make you feel left out. Being considerate of such a big event.

Though you could’ve (and most likely would’ve) married someone after Reiner, it still was your first wedding. And your first anything should always be taken seriously.

“If I knew you were going to be bombarded with the other ladies bothering you...I would’ve given it sooner,” he fished a box out of his pocket, and handed it to you.

You then opened it to see a fairly modest design. It was a simple gold band. One with a centered jewel in an oval shape. There were also two other smaller stones which accompanied the ring, and the band sat in a black, velvet box. It was a very beautiful ring, and Reiner could tell you liked it (based on how you sat in awe). He was glad he got such a ring, knowing how simple you could be, and that it seemed to suit your personality.

“I’m sorry for not being able to get you better, but I hope that it’ll be enough for you to show other ladies. And hopefully...you don’t feel the need to humble yourself when with others,” you could feel the sincerity coming from him, and were thankful. But...you ultimately just...couldn’t accept such a gesture.

“I’m sorry Reiner...but I can’t accept this.”

“Oh, why is that?”

“I just...can’t,” he then took the hint, and instead asked:

“Is it because you aren’t sure yet?” you then nodded, not giving him anymore context. He also did the same. Nodding and letting you be.

“But I insist...you should keep it.”

“Oh, really? And why is that?”

“Well haha, my mother will pester me less. But of course, only if you want. If not, I can take it back. I understand your decisions, and will respect them for when you’re ready.”

---

“You know what...sure, why not,” you didn’t want to be rude, and you also wanted to be less of a burden.

After receiving the box, Reiner does what he thinks is best. He shields you from others on your walk through town. Although they found his gestures quite adorable, he thought the opposite, but was glad there was no attention regarding the ring. Covering the box made you tense less, and his efforts were greatly appreciated. He understood the townspeople's intentions, but didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.

“Hey reiner...when it comes to deciding, how much time do you think I have?”

“According to what my mother said...maybe a couple months. That is...if you want to have a um...child of course. If not, really whenever. As long as I don’t die,” he chuckled and you nod, laughing yourself.

“I see, well...I’ll be sure to relay my decision whenever.”

You took notice of how tired Reiner was. His eyes drowsy, posture limp, and in general, was very out of energy. You decided to halt, stopping in front of him. Making his pace lessen as you stood still.

“Why do you look so tired? I know it’s not because of any drills,” you laughed as he looked to the side.

“Don’t worry too much about it...it’s nothing.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Come on Reiner...tell me! I feel like I play a part in it…. I’m not sure as to what, but yeah,” he then looked back at you. Though he contemplated his thoughts, he decided to be honest.

“Okay fine. As of recently, I've been pushed around by my mother, a couple elders, along with the civilians, and troops in general. Meeting whenever my mother arranged things, taking the time to accept gifts, being congratulated, and having conversations even when I don’t have the time. Though it should be fun, it’s really not. Especially when the warriors are on my ass for being late, and then I show up to meetings with a bunch of gifts. At first they were okay with everything, but as time progressed, they were uh...pissed with my appearances.”

You felt bad. Your delay was really taking a toll on Reiner, yet you felt like you couldn’t give him your answer. The pressure was immense, you would be letting people down, and the Braun’s would be in an awkward (gossip-ish) position after your rejection. But then again, you didn’t want to marry him anymore. You had Jean now, plus, Reiner was only doing his best since he wanted to make things right. Being your friend, trying to help build a future that might satisfy you when he’s gone. Imagining you living alone without benefits he could’ve provided, made him feel guilty. He already put you through so much, and although this wasn’t a huge step to redemption, it was one skid closer.

But honestly, you cared less (for the marriage, not his efforts). If you said no, the entire thing would be off his plate. Yet...you felt bad seeing how much effort he put in. You saying no would mean all of that effort being drawn to waste. You then decided to ask him what he would do with both responses. Towards both rejection, and the acceptance of his proposal.

“Reiner...what would you do if I said yes?”

“To my proposal?”

“Mhm.”

“Well I would marry you,” he smirked at such an obvious question. Not making fun of you, rather, just pointing out the obvious.

“Oh...yeah haha. Anything else though?”

“Maybe have a child...I mean of course, like I said...it’s up to you” seemed embarrassed to bring up the subject, which made you laugh.

“Okay...then what would you do if I said no?”

“Honestly I’m not sure, but, if that’s what will make you happy, so be it. If you want to love someone else, I won't stop you. If you want to love yourself, and you alone, I will support you. No matter what you do...I just want to be a good friend is all. Make up for all I’ve done.”

Just through that, you saw how serious Reiner was when taking this path to redemption. Though, not in the way you would have both envisioned, he was truly trying his best. Being a good friend, and doing his best to get you what, and where you needed to go. You were very touched by his sincerity, and words in general. Reiner was truly a great friend. Though questionable at times, and it would take time for you to wholeheartedly trust him, he was getting there. And would probably at one point.

“Thanks Reiner.”

“No need to. I’m content either way, so it’s really up to you.”

XII > XIV

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purple-goo-writes · 3 years

Text

The Shadows Watching Gotham

Or Watcher as most knows them,is a popular YouTuber and Podcaster and is the outside world's only reliable source of information about the on goings of the Mask Community within the crime ridden city known as Gotham. Aka the No Man's Land and the Crime Capital of the World.

Rumor has it that Watcher is the only way an outsider can contact the Bats. If this is true or not, Superman is about the find out.

Chapter 1: A rattle of bones

The Justice League of America and their younger counterparts watched the monitor in their meeting hall with rapt attention. On it, Barry had pulled up the channel of a popular youtuber, The Shadows Watching Gotham, hoping to get some more intel on the situation on Gotham and the vigilantes that the JLA wished to recruit. Though while the older members were listening with only half an ear, the younger ones were entranced with the hypnotizing and haunting narrative as Watcher spoke. His soft, raspy voice wrapping around them like an intoxicating perfume leaving the Young Justice Members wanting to hear more. Perhaps it was the strange ambient music playing in the background that added to the mystery surrounding Watcher that had them so entranced.

"...Just a friendly reminder for all my Gothamites listening in, Dr. Crane, otherwise known as The Scarecrow, escaped Arkham during last months breakout. Please do not forget your gas masks at home as he is still at large."

Watcher sat at an old and cluttered desk, the only light from an offscreen lamp, possibly a gaslamp, which bathed the teen and his surroundings in a soft golden glow. Though the JL couldn't see anything behind the teen except for pitch blackness, possibly the result of a backdrop. They couldn't see much of the Watcher as his face was blocked by the arm, the pop filter and mic of the studio microphone the teen was using. The teen was wearing a white long sleeved shirt which was rolled up to his elbows, showing off wiry, yet muscular arms covered in an odd variety of scars most Gothamites had littering parts of them, and a pressed red vest with black embroidery swirling across it, a gold tie could be seen just below the arm of the mic. Over all, the Watcher was just as mysterious and cryptic as the vigilantes he talked about.

"Now as the sun rises upon the decrepit bones of our fair city, I must bid you all a fair the well and a hopefully Good Morning. This is Watcher signing off."

And with that the screen went dark, snapping many out of the trance they had fallen into whilst listening to the Watcher speak.

Superman cleared his throat, before standing, "As I was saying. In order to hopefully meet with these vigilantes, I have managed to establish contact with The Watcher, as he is so far our only reliable source on the vigilantes that are not simply rumors spread by the Gotham Gazette or hearsay spread about through the villain network."

Hal frowned, leaning back in his chair rocking it back on two legs, "Yet isn't he just as hard to get a hold of?"

"Which is why I am going to meet him as Clark Kent with Kon acting as my back up in the form of my son shadowing me at work," the man of steel replied, ignoring how his clone/son rolled his eyes and muttered, "Isn't that what I normally fucking do?"

Their relationship was still rocky at time, but Ma Kent was determined to get Clark to do right by the boy. After all they were only on good terms due to Ma Kent. But, Kon was going through what Ma called his rebellious stage and trying to break out of his father's shadow as most teenage sons do. Which lead to snippy comments during meetings and Clark wondering just how Kon managed to get another new piercing, personally he blamed Lex for those because of course the man would figure out how to give a Kryptonian piercings just to piss Superman off.

Clark simply sighed and went back to addressing the others, “The Watcher agreed to meet with us tomorrow evening after I explained that I was writing an article about Gotham and it’s rumored vigilantes and found that he was the only reliable source I could find with recent information. And that I learned about him thanks to my son, Conner.”

“Meaning, I have to watch over fifty videos on Youtube so not to sound stupid when I talk to the dude,” Kon muttered to his best friend, Bart, who giggled softly into his hands. Both ignoring the looks their mentors gave them, though Barry’s was more fond then reprimanding like Clark’s.

“Exactly how will you know if it is this Watcher that you are meeting?” Wonder Woman inquired, a frown settling on her face in contemplation, “After all we do not know what this mysterious Watcher looks like…”

“We will be meeting him at the abandoned opera house within Central Gotham. He said he would know it is him by the red feathers he wears,” Clark sounded confused at this but only shrugged, “It’s the best I could get, he wouldn’t agree to meet outside of Gotham. Due to Gotham being declared No Man’s Land still by the President, even with the major rebuilding done by the Waynes… Most Gothamites don’t leave now.”

He sighed at the confused looks he was getting from the other members, “That was how Watcher explained it to me after I asked.”

The next evening…

Gotham was just as gloomy and foreboding as it was described in all the forums Kon had schemed the night before. What they had failed to mention was the literal stench of despair and fear that hung in the air. Or how Kon felt like the shadows were closing in slowly around him and his sorta-dad/Genetic donor as they hung outside the desolate opera house. Really the building was something out of a horror movie, and that was saying something considering this was Fucking Gotham and most places were probably used as references for horror movie scenery. It was huge and probably had been grand looking back in its prime with its gothic architecture and scale...though now the huge dome of the building was crumbling, slowly caving into itself and the once bright walls of it’s outer shell were now grey and covered in graffiti with most of the stained panels of it’s windows busted out from various villain attacks, bullet holes littered the siding and the once bright letters announcing the next play were broken and mostly missing. Honestly, Kon expected either a ghastly apparition from Hamlet to start monologuing or a serial killer to leap from the crawling shadows of the building looming over them.

He was not expecting someone to fucking sneak up on them out of the shadows and nearly scare Kon into fucking space!

“For an investigative reporter, you aren’t very observant, Mr. Kent,” came a soft, yet raspy voice like smoke behind them, causing both Kents to nearly break cover and leap on top of the building they were standing in front of. A smoky chuckle greeted them as both Kents whirled around just shy of inhuman speeds, “Really, I’ve been standing here watching you two nervously pace for about an hour now.”

An hour?

But how did they not hear him?

Kon was distracted from his thoughts as he took in just who was standing before them. The other teen, as their voice sounded young and didn’t yet have the full changes that signaled adulthood, only came up to Kon’s chin making him around five foot something compared to Kon’s near six feet. (He was so glad they fixed the aging and growing thing. He did not want to be stuck at the height of a thirteen year old forever.) They looked possibly male, but Kon wasn’t going to assign pronouns until they properly introduced themselves it was only polite according to Ma. Kon was still surprised that they managed to sneak up on the two Kents. They were wiry, yet muscular, built mainly for running from what Kon could tell, it was hard to tell with them still somehow blending in with the shadows despite how they were dressed. A white button down, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, with a bright red vest with black embroidery, a golden tie tucked into the vest, black dress slacks and slightly scuffed yet still shiny red loafers. A black trench coat was slung over one shoulder as the person watched them with amused blue eyes, the only part of their face they could see thanks to the bulky, yet futuristic looking, black gas mask with red lights. Kon could only see the person’s eyes thanks to the clear face shield protecting their eyes from foreign objects. Shaggy and long black hair framed the person’s face, the inky blackness of their hair almost blending into the Gotham night if it wasn’t for the bright red feathers tied throughout the inky mass.

Bright red feathers…

Feathers!

“Oh you’re Watcher!” Kon exclaimed being the first to recover, causing the podcaster to chuckle, “Oooh? I see you actually did remember. I was beginning to think that staring was just what Metropolians did.”

#the shadows watching gotham #podcaster!Tim #tim is a mystery man and apparently the YJ teens dig it #listened to Heather Dale Incantations 1 album for this #batman #batman au #isolated batfam

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slygirl666 · 4 years

Text

the thin line

Warnings: sex language all that shit

authors note: this is one of those drafts I promised because why not, not edited and not my favorite

words: 3453

You flopped onto the couch. Fred, who was nursing a glass of scotch, looked up at you shocked.

“Bad date, I reckon?” He looked sympathetic, a rare trait for him.

“The absolute worse,” you groaned, moving to lean on his shoulder. “First off he was constantly talking about his exes, yes multiple, and not even twenty minutes into the date he tried to put his hands up my skirt.”

“No,” Fred mock gasped. “You wait till at least the third date to let a man publicly get you off.”

You slapped his shoulder but couldn’t hold in the laughter what he said. “What about you? Huh, Fred, correct me if I’m wrong but you're going through a dry spell yourself.”

“This isn't about me Y/N.” he glared at you. You seemed to have struck a nerve.

It was true you and Fred have no secrets between you, having lived together for the last year. In the beginning you had often met women he kept around for a week at most, at times even playing the angry girlfriend when a one off overstayed their welcome. Fred often caught you doing the walk of shame through the joke shops door after your latest night out.

“I’m sorry your date sucked, love.” he stroked your arm soothingly. “If you’d like I can draw you a bath, get you some wine.”

You nodded, It was a ritual. Failed love life, he drew you a bath and let you relax; if he had a stressful day at work you would read to him (something he didn’t enjoy doing himself, but loved listening to) while he rested his head on your thigh.

Fred walked to your bathroom running the water, before moving to the kitchen getting you a glass and bottle. “Bubbles?”

“Always,” you shouted to him.

In a few minutes time Fred was at the doorway to get you, “come on princess Bath is ready.”

You smiled, moving to twist your hair up as you walked into the bathroom. Once you were undressed and in the tub, which was filled to the brim with bubbles, Frec came back in lowering the toilet seat so he could sit and talk with you.

“How many dates is that this time around?” Fred asked, pouring a glass for you.

“Three this week,” you sighed while drinking some of the bitter liquid. “I’m I that horrible to look at? I mean not to sound vain but I have a decent face, and my tits aren't half bad either.”

Fred choked on the drink he took. “I mean-”

“Don’t answer that, let me wallow in self pity for a few hours,” you rolled your eyes kicking up some water. “Tell me, anything new happening in the shop?”

Fred talked excitedly about his newest product. The two of you sat there until your skin started to prune. You shooed him out so you could get ready for the night.

Once again you found yourself on the couch with Fred's head in your lap. You ran your fingers through his ginger hair. He made small appreciative moans that you felt lower in your body than you should have.

“We should get some sleep Fred,” you smiled down to him, before shocking him off lightly to go to your own room.

You spent a couple hours tossing and turning, Pressing your legs together to create some form of much needed friction. It had been months since you’ve slept with someone and the fact that you needed to get laid was more evident in the fact that sounds your best friend made had you hot and bothered.

It was well past midnight, Fred had to be asleep, so you gave in.

“Fuck it.”

You allowed one hand to trail to your underwear teasing yourself through the fabric. You were already wet and frustrated but you didn't want to give in just yet. You trailed your pinky finger up and down your clothed heat applying the slightest bit of pressure over your clit.

You bit your lip to muffle the goan escaping your lips, before moving to your dresser pulling out a bullet vibrator. You clicked it on the sound of the light buzz increasing your ever growing excitement. You pressed it against your navel before guiding it down past the elastic of your underwear it was centimeters away from your center, a loud moan dripped from your lips as it touched that aching bundle of nerves.

A knock at the door interrupted your high. “Y/N, you okay?”

“Yes Fred,” you clicked off the bullet, shoving it under your pillow. Just in time to see Fred peak his head through the door.

“I thought I heard something,” Fred sat on the edge of your bed. “Came to check on you, only to hear it come from your room. Are you alright?”

You refused to meet his eyes, the smirk that played on his lips told you he had some idea of what you were up to.

“I’m fine fred, thank you for your concern.” you tried to end the conversation, but you felt the mattress shift beside you as fred got comfortable.

“So Princess, what were you doing?” his voice was low in your ear, making your breath hitch.

“Nothing, Freddie,” you were breathless and he knew what he was doing. “I’m going to bed.”

You felt him pull you to his chest, his soft breaths lulling you to sleep.

The next morning you woke to Fred stirring awake, he was not a morning person so you struggled out of his grasp to the kitchen.

You put on a pot of coffee before jumping up to sit on the counter next to the machine. You sat there listening to the coffee drip, thoughts flooded with the cheeky bastard you woke up next to.

George came in through the door looking exhausted, he looked to you then to the slowly filling up pot of coffee.

“You are an angel, L/N.” George went to the covert to bring out three mugs. When it was finished he poured the dark liquid adding milk and sugar to the three mugs.

The smell of the coffee seemed to drag Fred out of bed. He walked into the kitchen groggily you picked up and offered him a mug that he took with a sleepy smile. “Morning Princess, Georgie.”

George quickly told Fred about the plans for the shop before the two men parted. Fred to get dressed, and George to their office to do paper work.

Fred came out of his room in a nice suit using his wand to do his tie as he walked towards the front door.

“See you tonight, Y/N.” he smiled at you, straightening his tie.

Being a Saturday meant you didn’t have to go into work for the weekend, you used your wand to clean up the mess you had all made before moving onto your room.

You debated upon making your bed, before moving the pillow you slept under. You were shocked to find your vibraitor not under your pillow but on the nightstand. There was one explanation you didn’t even want to think of.

You laid yourself down back onto the bed, deciding a few more hours of sleep would be best.

Fred came back after work to find you watching a tv show. He settled onto the couch.

“What are you watching?”

“Muggle tv show.” you took your eyes off the tv. “We should go out tonight.”

“Should we?” Fred kicked off his shoes, “does this have something to do with last night? Or maybe what I found under my pillow this morning?”

“Yes,” you answered plainly. “And to be fair you invited yourself into my room, what you found was your fault.”

You got up going to your room to find something to wear to a club. You found a black leather skirt and low cut tank that had lace framing your breast perfectly.

You walked out of your room to find Fred had discarded his jacket and suit vest leaving him in a pair of dark slacks, a lavender shirt and his tie.

You walked to him face to chest with him. You moved to loosen his tie and remove it, “you are still a bit too formal for clubbing. Undo the top tree buttons and roll your sleeves up.”

You instructed going to the shoe rack for your heels, before slipping them clumsily.

“Where are we going?”

“Muggle club, in London,” you put your arm through his. “A lot of uni students go there, so plenty of people our age.”

The two of you disapperated to the three broomsticks to go through to Muggle London.

You pulled Fred around till you found the place you were looking for, a place a muggle born friend of yours had shown you straight out of hogwarts.

You waited in the line of people until you were allowed in. the two of you made a B-line for the bar.

Fred ordered your drinks while you looked around the club, “tall blond, near the door. She’s checking you out.”

“You sure?” He looked in the direction you told him. “She’s pretty, might do for a night.”

He handed you your drink walking off to the direction of the blonde woman. You knew you wouldn’t see him for a while, possibly all night. You sat at a seat overlooking the dance floor, you saw a familiar flash of red hair under the neon lights as he danced jokingly with the girl you pointed out to him.

You sat back enjoying your people watching. “You look far too pretty to be sitting alone.”

You turned to see a man, he was handsome with dark curls and light eyes contrasting with the carmel color of his skin. “Something must be wrong, let me guess you were cheated on?”

“No,” you smiled at his assumptions.

“Girls night out and you are the DD,” you lifted your drink and he thought. “Heart broken?”

You tilted your head giving him a small smile, “it feels like it but i'm not sure, can someone who never had your heart break it?”

“That’s way too poetic for a girl in a trashy club,” he laughed. “Calen Collens.”

“Y/N L/N,” you offered him a hand to shake. “Would you like to dance?”

He smiled taking you to the dance floor, the movements the two of you made close and slow.

Soon his lips found your ear. “Be mine tonight, Y/N?”

That was too much, too forward. Sure she let him flit and held him close but the fact he would be so forward. “I’m going to go to the restroom.”

You ran as fast as you could in heels, you found Fred pressed against a wall with the blonde on his lips.

“I'm going home,” you walked past them out into the cold night tears threatening to fall. It was dark and Muggle London wasn’t the safest palace at night, you just had to find somewhere secluded.

There were footsteps behind you, you ducked into an alleyway hoping they would stop. They didn't. You felt a hand grab your forearm and you drew your wand.

“Merlin, it's me,” you were spun around to be face to face with Fred. his eyes softened when he saw the tears on your face, he brought a hand to wipe at them. “Princess lets get you home.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, bringing his own wand out taking the two of you home.

* * *

The two of you were on the couch you had put on a movie and were resting with your head on Fred’s chest. He stroked your hair, “do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I met a man, he was charming and nice. But the moment that he asked if i could be his tonight I broke.” you laughed humorlessly, “i complain about the lack of sex in my life, hell you almost caught me getting off. Yet a hot man approached me and I had a breakdown like no other, and then I ruined your chance for a bit of fun. It’s pathetic.”

“No it isn’t,” Fred sighed leaning his cheek onto your head. “You just aren’t one for casual nights.”

“It would be easier if i was,” you rolled your eyes. “I also want trust and respect, but that's a bit much I guess.”

“It really isn’t Princess,” he lifted your chin to face him. “I think that's admirable.”

Your eyes met his, his hazel ones flicking from your lips to your eyes. You brought a hand to trace his jaw line, something you’ve done many times before but felt different now.

You felt his breath first, his nose bumping yours. He was giving you time to back away, you didn’t want to.

He pressed his lips to yours, they were softer than you could imagine. You brought your hands to his neck as his hands went for your waist.

You pulled him down guiding him on top of you.

“Room?” Fred breathed into the kiss, You let out a soft hum in response.

Fred guided you up, once you were on your feet he pulled you into him, leaning down to give you a breathtaking kiss.

He pulled away slowly dragging your bottom lip between his teeth.

You let out a moan, he pulled you by the hand as he rushed to his room.

“Are you sure about this?” He was hesitant once this line was crossed it could never be forgotten.

“We can freak out tomorrow,” you pushed him onto his bed. “Right now take your clothes off.”

“Gladly,” he moved to take off his shirt. You watched appreciatively as his arms flexed.

You sat with legs on either side of his waist, your fingertips tracing the exposed skin. His lips met your neck with light nips as he tugged on your tank top. You leaned back allowing him to pull it over your head.

You shivered at the sudden exposure to the cold air, Fred stared at you in awe. His hands came to cup your breast, the rough pads of his thumbs traced your nipple teasingly.

Your breath hitched and he threw you a cheeky smirk before bringing his tongue out and flicking one.

You moaned at the contrast of the cold air and the heat of his mouth. Every movement he made every lick, nip and suck felt expertly practiced.

His hands fell back to your hips using them to push you off him and have you land with your back pushed into the mattress. He kissed down your navel before making eye contact with you.

“You are fucking perfect.” he brought a hand under the elastic of your sleep shorts, his eyes went wide in surprise. “No underwear? You princess are in trouble.”

He pulled your shorts to your knees before continuing to trail his lips down to your center. His right hand following his lips while his left kept you in place.

He lifted his head as he brought his fingers to your core, letting out a breathy chuckle when you moaned. He put two of his fingers into you. He put the two both into his mouth, he hummed smirking at your reaction.

“Okay, Fred, that- that was hot.” you let out an airy laugh completely off guard. He kissed your inner thigh, the tip of his nose teasing where you want him the most. “Freddie-”

His name shifted to a moan as he trailed his tongue to your entrance.

A mew left your lips as he worked the flat of his tongue around up and down your entrance. He stopped the movement to allow his fingers back inside you. He got a bit bolder using his teeth to lightly nip at your clit. You moved your hands into his hair back arching as he continued to allow his tongue to flick at it, letting his teeth work in sync as well.

You gripped his hair slightly with a tug. “Fuck, Princess.”

You leaned up meeting his eyes, the sight of him between your legs, his mouth a mess, his torso exposed was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. “Are you ready? because I absolutely am.”

“Just be inside of me freddie,” you looked up at him through your eyelashes. Got up to remove his pants

The anticipation that you felt watching him stroke himself was insane. You watched him in what felt like slow motion as he pumped his cock, a look of blissful relief crossed his handsome features.

The trob between your legs felt unbearable, “hurry up Fred, please.”

“Needy thing aren't you?” he chuckled, moving his hand back to line himself up to you. When he finally entered you you moaned happy to feel him.

* * *

You woke up sore tangled in sheets that aren't yours,as the weight of the bed shifted. Fred moved to find his clothes.

“Morning, Freddie.” you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. It wasn’t the first time you woke up in his bed but this time was extraordinarily different. You found your shorts discarded on the floor before moving to pull them on, you felt his eyes watching you. “What time is it?”

“Seven,” you turned to find him sitting in just a pair of boxers. He looked lost so you found your way back to him standing between his legs. “We’ll talk after I finish up at the shop, right?”

You moved your fingers to trace his worried face. “I’ll be right here like I always am.”

You threw on a shirt and went for the door.

“George will be suspicious if we were out at the same time, I’ll make you coffee.” you walked out going to your own room to throw on a robe.

When you put coffee grounds in the machine and clicked it on George walked through the door, pulling you in for a side hug. “If i weren’t engaged I would marry you L/N, Freddie should.’

“Angelina ban coffee again?” you laughed finding three tall mugs for all of you.

“If I didn't love her or the child that we made I would leave because of that coffee ban.” he sighed dramatically.

“You don't mean that, shut up and get the cream from the fridge,” you rolled your eyes watching the drip of the coffee finish.

Fred emerged from his own room with a sleepy grin, faker. You poured him a cup with all the fixings before handing it to him. “Morning Princess, sleep well?”

He winked at you over the brim of his cup. “No, something had me rolling around all night, nothing I can't fix.”

He laughed as George looked between the two of you, “I don't get you two.” he walked out the door down to the office.

Fred pulled you close, “ tonight?”

“tonight,” you tiptoed to kiss his nose.

He smiled with a boyish charm and walked out the door with a small hop in his step. Now was the time to overthink everything.

Was it a mistake?

Did he hate it?

Were you bad?

Would you guys ever be the same?

You went into the kitchen and pulled out Molly’s baking cards. If you were going to talk may as well have something sweet while you were at it. With the wave of your wand music filled the room from the radio. You moved your hips along with the beat. Looking through the cards you decided on her tentacle tart recipe, not finding everything you went out to the store.

You spent your day doing small things, organizing your stuff in the bathroom, doing your laundry and reading two books.

When the door to the apartment opened you jumped up from the couch. “Fred.”

“Y/N, how was your day?” you watched as your usually overly confident best friend shuffled his feet bashfully.

“Sit down Fred,” you laughed. “We don’t have to be awkward, let's be grown ups now freddie. Tentacle tart?”

He nodded letting a carefree chuckle escape him. “Please, so we had sex.”

“I'm pretty sure we were both present, what should we do now? Pretend it never happened-?

“No, I don't want to pretend it never happened.”

“Neither of us have dated any since our school days, and we live in such close quarters I don’t think casual will suit us.”

“We don’t have to label it you know, we can just be us.” Fred finally met your eye, his usual smirk finally finding his face. “Bet mum would be happy.”

“We could just let them figure it out,” you chuckled. “Ginny told me the whole family has money on us.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #harry potter fan fiction #Harry Potter

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yamithediaperdork · 3 years

Text

Tricked or Treated? (My hero academia)

"Katsuki, I'm telling you for the last time to get off your ass, and come with me to pick out a costume! You know we have to go to the school's Halloween party!" Shoto growled, Glaring at his blond blond friend who was currently lounge on their couch, laid on his back and reading a comic.

"Yeah yeah, Mandatory attendance and all that shit. I'll just show up in my hero outfit." Katsuki said, not even brother to return Shoto's stare and not realizing how close he was coming to getting blasted with either ice or fire.

"You KNOW that's against the rules! Get your butt up and come with me now! I wanna compete in the couples contest!" Shoto whined.

Katsuki sighed, and set his book down and turned to look at Shoto. Technically you could go to the party in plain clothes but you wouldn't be able to compete in any of the contests and it was considered in poor taste, not that had had ever stopped Katsuki from showing up in blue jeans and a t-shirt.

"Fine! if you want me to wear a fucking costume so bad, you go and pick it up. I gotta take a dump anyways." Katsuki signed, acting like he was doing such a massive favor for his boyfriend as he got up and headed for the can, comic under a air. "Just don't get me anything fruity or sissy." He called and shut the door.

Shoto growled, counted to ten in his mind then smiled.

"Ok Sweetie, I'll get the PERFECT costume for you! but if you don't wear it I'll put your nuts in a block of ice!" Shoto called and headed out the door as Katsuki quickly stuck his head back out of the bathroom.

"Wait what?!"

Find the perfect costumes proved to be somewhat easy while also a little hard, since getting the basics for Katsuki's costume was easy enough and like wise for Shoto's one. it was the main part of Katsuki's costume that proved hard to track down and the add on for Shoto's own.

Still, he was on a mission to not only get the perfect combo costumes for them but also teach Katsuki a valuable life lesson about respecting your partner..and not to fuck with Shoto when he wanted something.

Shopping bags full he made it back to their shared door room and found Katsuki watching some mindless violence on TV.

"So, did you miss me?" Shoto asked in a cheerful voice.

"Ok, what the hell was that about freezing my nuts off before you left?!" Katsuki snarled, grabbing a pillow and putting it over his twig and berries.

"..it's cute you think a foam pillow will protect your balls if I wanna attack. And Just making sure you know that you're going to put on the costume I got you if you know what's good for you. You HAD a chance to come shopping with me so I don't want ANY shit from you about it." Shoto said.

"..See the fact you think you need to threaten me already tell's me I'm NOT going to like it." Katsuki said, and added a second pillow.

"Well I dunno, you seem to like it when I baby talk to you." Shoto chuckled and grinned as Katsuki blushed.

"T-That's only after you know.. we've.." Katsuki whined and squirmed now.

"Mmmmhmmm.. whatever you say 'Little guy.'" Shoto said, using his pet name for Katsuki that he knew the blond hated and loved at the same thing.

He loved how small and safe it made him feel, but hated it reference his well, less then impressive boyhood that was a inch at it's hardest, Katsuki for all of his attuide and spite was a total bottom in the sack.

"D-Don't call me that when we're going out!" Katsuki whined and tossed one of the pillow's at Shoto now, making him drop a bag to catch it.

And out of the bag came a pair of brown slacks, a white dress shirt, and a green sweat vest and also a pair of fake glasses and a toy pipe.

"..wait, you want me to go as a stereo type dad?" Katsuki asked looking down.

"Heh, Nope~ That's MY costume." and he tossed the other bag to Katsuki who caught it. "THAT'S yours Little guy."

Katsuki tilted his head and dropped the bag out, and let out a cry of 'OH FUCK NO!' that everyone around the whole school heard it.

In the end it didn't take having to freeze Katsuki's balls off to get him in the costume, it had just taken getting him over Shoto's lap and heating up a hand then delivering a mere five swats before Katsuki was calling for mercy.

even more cute was the fact that Katsuki had -squeal- needed help to get his costume on, a task that Shoto enjoyed fair more then he should of but when the task was done, Katsuki looked adorable.

With a pair of baby blue booties on his feet and baby blue mittens on his hands, he was looking super cute already but it was the -5- diapers Shoto had insisted on putting him in (Plain white) and then the baby blue with white stars on it onesie he wore (that they BARELY got snapped shut) that made him look like a oversized huffy toddler, and he was blushing big time.

even more cute was while Shoto had been getting the diapers on his new big baby, Katsuki had been at full mast despite whining how much he hated this.

"I look like a dork! I don't like this! I hate you so much right now!" he whined and huffed, squirming and trying to rub his legs together.

"oh i bet you totally do." Shoto said in a tone that made it clear he didn't at all. "But you better stop whining o I'll put your mute button in." He added, clipping on a while pacifier that was on a dark blue ribbon to Katsuki's oneise.

"You don't have the ba-" Katsuki started to rant, only for Shoto to pop the over sized nipple in his mouth.

As Shoto expected seeing how worked up Katsuki was getting, and not as in angry, Katsuki instantly too to sucking on the large nipple in his mouth and was clearly trying not to smile.

'I dare say I have a tsunadre on my hands.' Shoto thought with a smirk and leaned in and kissed the big babies cheek and pat his bum.

"Daddy needs to go and get his costume on now sweetie, you be a good boy and watch some cartoon's." Shoto said and grabbing the remote, he switched it to a 24 hour nursery show station.

Katsuki whined and squirmed then nodded and to Shoto's delight he didn't even try for the couch, and sat on the floor like the big baby he was.

As soon as Shoto was out of the room, Katsuki stopped playing attention to the cartoon's on the screen and instead started to rub the front of his padding though the oneise.

'Holy fuck, why does this feel so nice?!' He thought, a blush creeping up on his face and he pushed and rubbed it more with one hand, the other reaching for and grabbing a pillow and hugging it to his chest as a make shift stuffie.

'Shit..If I keep doing this.. I'm gonna..' Katsuki moaned in his head, sucking fast and hard on the paci and getting drool trailing down his chin.

Never known for having much sexual stamina in the first place, Katsuki was gonna set a new speed record for himself at this, or would of if he hadn't of heard the bathroom door opening up.

He hand left his diaper and his ball's protested fiercely as the ache of blue balls set in but thankfully he hadn't been caught.

"so, what do you think buddy? ..Heh Awww! You know, I was gonna get you a teddy when shopping but thought it would be a step too far. I'll get one for next time." Shoto said, in full costume.

Katsuki let the paci drop from his mouth and huffed, hugging the pillow with both arms now.

"T-There's not going to be a next time, I'm only doing it THIS time and this time only moron!" He huffed and then soaked in how old school dad he looked. "..and you look good daddy."

"Awww! you called me daddy!" Shoto chuckled and came over, planting a smooch on Katsuki's cheek, making the big baby close his eyes and his ball's threaten to unload in the diapers anyways.

"I..Just..Getting in charter." Katsuki said, panting and trying to will his load to stay in, there was no way Shoto wouldn't notice if Katsuki started to fire off.

"ahh that explains the drool then baby boy." Shoto said, smirking and pulling out a napkin and dabbing at Katsuki's chin.

"Y-Yes! Totally!"

Unknown to the big baby, Shoto had actually came back out of the bathroom faster then he knew, and had caught the big baby in the act with his eyes shut. he watched the scene with amusement (and a bit of a hard on) but when he saw the end was near, he had staged his just coming out.

'After all, I know what how easy it is to get a needy horny Katsuki to listen.' Shoto mused.

Helping the slightly quivering with need big baby up to his feet, Shoto looked at the clocked and gave a warm smile.

"You know, we have almost a hour till the party..does somebody wanna go trick or treating? Some of the students have candy ready in case anyone wanted to go. A nice little touch of home. there was a sign up sheet." Shoto asked and ruffled Katsuki's hair and had to bite his tongue to not burst out laughing as the babies eyes rolled back in his head.

"So is that a yes?" Shoto asked looking amused.

"ah ba da ba.." Katsuki drooled and babbled.

"I'm gonna take that as a yes." Shoto chuckled.

Katsuki semi snapped back, as much as he could with his little thing rubbing the diapies and twitching badly, aware he had a pumpkin shaped pail taped to his mittens and that Shoto was gently guiding him down the hall.

"Hey welcome back!" Shoto chuckled. "I'll have to remember that a good head pat when your padded makes you go baby brained for a good 5 minutes."

Katsuki blushed and huffed at that.

"It did not! I was just faking it! It's called getting into character." Katsuki lied.

"Surrrre little man, what ever you say."

Coming up to the first of the students who were handing out candy, Katsuki whined softly, knowing the room semi well since he'd had a semi fling with the guy before him and Shoto had hooked up...Eijiro. Things had fallen out between them because Katsuki had insisted on being a total top despite his failings in bed.

"Can we NOT go to this room? Pleasssse?" Katsuki asked, just picturing what was gonna happen the second Eijiro saw him dressed like this.

"Well normally I would let you skip your ex...Buttttt see only a few people signed up to give out candy and I want you to get as much as possible." Shoto said and smooched Katsuki's cheek and making the blond go all derpy smile.

Before the effects of the smooch could wear off Shoto knocked at the door and turned to Katsuki.

"Remember to be polite, good polite boys get more candy." He said.

The door opened and there was Eijiro, dressed like Sheamus from WWE, in just a pair of wrestling trunks and having a fake beard and mustache on to go with his spiky hair.

He took one look at Katsuki and burst out laughing, almost dropping the bowl of candy he was holding and while Katsuki huffed and wanted to bop him, Shoto nudged his side.

"T-Trick or treat!" Katsuki said, face crimson and shaking a little, the humiliation making him weak all over and a small burst of pee hitting the front of his diaper. He was holding out his pumpkin pail like a good boy though.

"I-I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't laugh..just..Bwhahahahaha!" Eijiro started again, then forced himself to stop so he could keep talking. "Well now, don't you just look ADORABLE!"

As he said that he reached out and lightly pinched Katsuki's cheek and made Katsuki whine a little.

"Yeah, he makes a good big baby." Shoto said and patted Katsuki's butt to keep the blond from yelling.

"Not half bad with your costume either.. Daddy and baby right?" Eijiro asked.

"Ding ding ding. I'm sure we're gonna win the couples contest this year." Shoto said.

"Well you have MY vote!" Eijiro said and went to get some of the mini candy bars he had in the bowl out, then paused. "You know..I got a extra bag of candy..If I could get a picture of Katsuki and you in your costumes I'll let him have what's left in the bowl."

Shoto took a look in the bowl and smiled, and Katsuki started to get very very worried.

"Uh, Daddy..your not really gon-" He started to ask, but Shoto cut him off.

"That sound like a good deal. Katsuki strike a pose." Shoto said, grinning ear to ear."

"Dadddddy!" Katsuki whined.

three butt pats later and a picture of Katsuki hugging and nuzzling his face into daddy's chest and wiggling his plump bottom was taken, and Katsuki's pail was 1/4 full.

"that was SO not cool!" Katsuki huffed as they made their way to the next room.

"Oh? didn't seem like you minded too much. if I recall YOUR the one who offered more poses for candy." Shoto chuckled.

"I..I just..That was acting!" Katsuki whined, apparently it was going to be his go to lie for the evening.

"So do you have any ex's I don't know about before we go on? Everyone always did think you were a thing with Midoriya.." Shoto teased.

Katsuki's eyes went wide as saucers.

"First of all, I would NEVER be with that loser, secondly.. He's not gonna be on of the candy givers is he!?!" Katsuki asked in a panicked voice, wetting himself more.

"Heh..Nope. but you DO know everyone's going to see you anyways at the party right?" Shoto pointed out.

"..Crap baskets.."

Shoto smirked at that and lead them to the next closet door and turned to Katsuki.

"I won't have to prod you this time right?" He asked, getting ready to knock on the door.

"..I'll be good." Katsuki said, sticking his tongue out at Shoto as he turned back to the door.

"I saw that." Shoto said, getting a 'eep!' out of Katsuki and then knocked.

It was Momo who answered, and she was dressed up as Ino from Naruto, headband and everything. The delight in her eyes when she saw Katsuki was clear but at least she didn't laugh like Eijiro had.

"Trick or trick!" Katsuki said, closing his eyes and holding out his pail.

"Heh, Awww what a cute couples costume! Katsuki, that's a good look on you!" She said with a giggle then turned her attention to Shoto. " And not half bad yourself. Tell me you two are entering the couples contest!"

"can I take it we can count on your vote?" Shoto laughed as Momo tossed in 6 mini bags of plain chips into Katsuki's bucket.

"Well.. Maybe she said then locked eyes with Katsuki. "But only if the baby uses his diaper." She added with a giggle and a wink.

"WHAT!? I'm not go-" Katsuki started to yell, despite the fact his diaper was damp anyways but as before, a few well placed butt pat's changed the tune. "Hehehe we'll see miss Momo! fank ku fer the chips!"

Momo snickered and giggled and waved bye, watching daddy and baby walk and waddle off.

"Too damn cute.." She said.

"You've gotta stop patting my butt!" Katsuki whined as they headed for the next stop.

"Oh? why? I thought you were only acting..if it doesn't make you do anything.." Shoto said with a knowing tone.

"It doesn't! it totally doesn't! I just.. it's..Um..Just stop it!" Katsuki huffed and whined looking away.

"mmmmhmmm.. We'll see. if you can behave yourself maybe I'll stop." Shoto said

Katsuki huffed at that, and whined a little, oddly feel a little hurt. He WAS behaving! He was a good boy! He didn't think he whined that loudly though but was proven wrong as Shoto pulled him in for a hug.

"Aww, don't worry, I know your trying to be a good boy. little guys just need extra help sometimes!" Shoto cooed and kissed the top of Katsuki's head, making him giggle like a little boy.

making it to the next door and knocking, it would be Mashirao who opened it, in a kangaroo costume.

"TRICK OR TREAT!" Katsuki said, still all happy from the kiss and he held out his bucket with a HUGE silly grin on his face.

"Heh, well now.. Look who's a cute little joey!" Mashirao chuckled.

"Huh? Nooo I'ma a baby! but my names still Katsuki!" Katsuki said, tilting his head and looking confused as Shoto and Mashirao laughed.

"Joey is a term for baby Kangaroo's buddy." Shoto explained.

"ohhhhh! Ok then." Katsuki said and watched as Mashirao pulled out some tootsie rolls and plopped them in the pail. "Thank you Mr. Mashirao!"

"Awww, such a polite baby deserves a five more." Mashirao chuckled and dumped enough in that Katsuki's pail was now half full, then asked "So I take it you two are gonna be trying to beat Midoriya and Ochaco's winning streak?"

"Well we have high hopes." Shoto said, then looked thoughtful. "Have you seen they're costumes yet?"

"Nah, but if your hitting all the places you should see them soon. Good luck!"

Katsuki was just coming back to normal and was about to make a comment about Mashirao's costume but a well placed butt pat kept him from ruining his good boy behavior and they were on their way.

"i thought you weren't gonna pat my butt if I was good!" Katsuki huffed as they made they're way onward.

"I kept my word, you were about to call Mashirao a furry or something like that weren't you?" Shoto asked.

"..Nooooo!...Maybe? ...ok yes." Katsuki fumed and if he'd of been able to he would of crossed his arms.

Before they walked too much further though Shoto stopped his big baby of a boyfriend.

"Uhhh Shoto what are you doi-" Katsuki asked then then eep'ed as Shoto bent down in front of him and unsnapped the front of the onesie and put a hand against the front of the diapers. "DADDY!" Katsuki yelped.

"Hey, you've been padded for awhile and I figured a diaper check was drew." Shoto said with a big smile, then added. "Hmm, a little damp but you should hold up. Think i'll bring extra diapers with us to the party though, just in case."

"I..I'm not gonna need extra diapers!" Katsuki stammered, glaring and then turning away as Shoto squished the front of the soggy pampers, almost going over the edge and biting his bottom lip.

"Really? so then this is a damp diaper I'm feeling right now?" Shoto teased playfully.

to a normal person that would of meant they were suppose to confess yes, they had peed a little. But to Katsuki's baby brain it meant something else all together.

"Hehehehe NOPE! That's not a tinkle filled diapie!" Katsuki said, a babyish tone in his voice and then he closed his eyes and scrunched up his face. "THIS IS!"

Before Shoto could try and tell him to stop, the flood gates were opened and the big babies diaper rapidly swelled and grew warm under Shoto's hand.

"Well, that certainly put ME in my place my little super soaker." Shoto chuckled and squished the front of the soaked diaper, glad that he had cute slits in them otherwise there out of been piss dribbling down Katsuki's legs.

Katsuki went to say something and looked all proud for a fraction of a second, but then the squish was apparently JUST too much and he gasped, hips bucking.

"D-DADDY!" he cried out, humping the front of his pissy diapies against his boyfriends hand as a eruption like a volcano of sorts happened in his diapers, only instead of lava it was Katsuki's creamy mess coming out.

"Awww did somebody go goo goo gaga in him's diapies?" Shoto asked, more sure then ever that this was totally going to be Katsuki's sex life from now on, creaming in huggies.

As the big babies hips stopped rocking. Katsuki nodded dimly, the light in his eyes gone and Shoto smirked, getting up and popping the paci in Katsuki's mouth.

"I think you have enough candy for now.. let's get you back to the room for a diapie change and maybe a quick nap so you'll be ready for the party." Shoto coo'ed.

Katsuki nodded again but just sucked on his paci, swaying back and forth on his feet and his eyelids drooping.

"...Maybe daddy better carry you back." Shoto said and gone a sleepy head nod in response.

The party was buzz with rumors as people mingled and talked about rumors of WHAT Katsuki's costume was going to be this year.

"No way, that jerk? the only way Shoto's got him in diapers is if he used someone with a mind control quirk." Yuuga said dressed like tuxedo mask.

"I'm telling you, I saw it with my own two eyes! Ask Mashirao if you don't believe me!" Tenya said, dressed like a rocket ship.

"Momo confirmed it..that and Minta is going around as a school girl.." Tsu said, in a Yoshi costume.

"Big shock there..gives him a excuse to have panties in his room.. little creep." Mina scoff, having gone as a gender swamped Buu.

"Well regardless, they'll have to show up soon and we'll know one way or anther Fumikage said reasonably, shifting about in his Falco from starfox costume.

the chatter died down and the group looked over and sure enough there was Shoto dressed in his stereotype daddy costume, with a added diaper bag slung over one shoulder. That however wasn't what got everyone's attention however, That would of been Katsuki.

He'd lost the mitt's since he'd promised to leave his diapers alone and was walking funny even if it looked like (to those who had seen them) he was in one less diaper, almost bowlegged and he kept switching from rubbing his bottom to rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

His paci was in his mouth and the happy couple stopped at the entrance as everyone looked and Shoto smiled and whispered something into Katsuki's ear.

The big baby blushed then let the paci drop from his mouth, then shyly waved at the crowd and in a small voice that carried due to the quiet lisped out:

"H-Hi every won. I's big baby Katsuki and dis is my Da-da.."

Instantly the gym filled with a mix of laughter and cries of 'Cute!' and 'd'awwww!' and Katsuki whine and turned around and hid his face into his daddies chest, hugging him.

Somehow this didn't help stop the reaction from the crowd.

Before the arrival but after the wetting, things had to be taken care of. Such as getting Katsuki out of his wet diapers for one. they only had a quick little bit for a nap and Katsuki had conked out. the mitt's had to come off so they could get the candy pail off of them and Shoto figured that he'd give Katsuki a chance not to need them now that he was sure the big baby was gonna be addicted to his pampers (plus the tape had semi ripped at the material and he'd have to get anther pair.)

The site of Katsuki snoring on the floor, his arms and hands spread back and his onesie open and soggy diapers on display almost had Shoto following his little guys example and having a accident of his own in his pants.

'So fucking cute!' Shoto gushed.

As cute as Katsuki looked in a wet diaper though, Shoto suddenly wanted to see how much MORE adorable he'd look with a full one.

Peeling the diapers open Shoto was impressed, It was the biggest load he'd EVER seen the little guy shoot! Using some wet wipes they had he got him all cleaned up up and then balled the diapers up and tossed them, then got three more out of the package. He hesitated for a second, now sure if he should really do what he was thinking of but in for a penny, in for a pound and he got up and grabbed a bottle of suppositories out of the medicine cabinet.

they were time delayed but promised even bigger messes for maxim relief, and that sounded PERFECT to Shoto as he gently slid 3 of the pills up into Katsuki and chuckled as the blond baby sucked and moaned around his paci, his little noodle trying to get stiff but clearly was too spent from the wet diaper spurting.

Getting the baby boy diapered nice and snug and having a easier time with the onesie now, Shoto picked him up and tucked them into their bed, then went into the bathroom to take care of his own problems, a alarm set so he'd have time to wake up Katsuki.

fast forward to the alarm going off and Katsuki setting up, in a sleep daze and minor fight about what the hell he was wearing (the silly little guy had assumed it had all been a dream Squeal!) and then Katsuki was squirming and whining.

"Did you put something up my butt while I was asleep?" He asked, pointing a finger and narrowing his eyes.. then looking down and wiggling his fingers. "Hey! I'm not wearing the mitt's anymore!"

"Clearly you are the world's greatest detective, I can not have you wasting such talent in here with so many unsolved crimes in the world!" Shoto said in a deadpan voice, then grinned as Katsuki gave him anther pout. "I wanna be able to trust you to try and not remove your diapies. besides, we'll be at the party and well, you don't want everyone seeing your ding dong do you?"

Katsuki had raised a hand and was about to argue he'd do whatever he wanted, then paused and lowered it.

"Only wearing them for you." He said, crossing his arms and tilting his head, eyes shut.

'Oh, we're gonna go though THIS again.. apparently a nut shot hits the reset switch.' Shoto thought and just ruffled Katsuki's hair and well, we all know how that song and dance goes.

By the time Katsuki had snapped out of his head pat trance they were just outside of the gym door and he whined softly, trying to get behind Shoto.

"Awww, is somebody all scared?" Shoto asked, turning around and rubbing Katsuki's back, and putting the big babies paci in his mouth as Katsuki nodded.

"it's ok. we'll just go in there, you'll wave and say hi to every one and introduce us..then you can hide behind me as much as you want till the contest. If anyone makes you cry I'll freeze'em solid." Shoto assured Katsuki.

Katsuki giggled at that and gave Shoto a big hug.

The party soon got in back in motion and they made the round, answering various questions and everyone squealing over just how cute the pair looked. there was LOTS of requests to pat Katsuki's butt but every time it was made Katsuki would whine that that was daddies one and cling to Shoto who would reply "Sorry but the little guy is right."

as the party dragged on Katsuki got a little less shy and while he wouldn't let other swat his butt he wiggled it lots and patted it a few time, making Shoto panic for a second but thankfully Katsuki was immune to butt pats if he did it himself.

Minta tried to sneak up for a double handed grope but snatched up with Katsuki clueless by Shoto who in no uncertain terms explained how much of a bad idea that was.

The end result was Minta ran for his life and left a trail of urine on the floor as he did so and Katsuki was left confused for a moment seeing the trail and looks down at his diaper and patted the front of them, then looked at the trail, then poked them.

"Daddy am I leaking?" he asked in the most adorable confused tone ever.

"No buddy, that wasn't you."

half a hour after their arrival and Katsuki was squirm lots and had stopped patting his butt. sure it was fun and made everyone pay attention to him but his hole was feeling REALLY weird and so was his tummy.

If it wasn't for the fact he had his bowel movements down to a science and Shoto would joke you could set a clock to his movements.

"Alright everyone, if I can have your attention.." Aizawa said, not sporting a costume as a teacher he was able to get out of it.. "It's time for the best singles and couples costumes. Normally we would do the singles first but with there only being three couples this year plus we don't wanna keep a certain somebody in the crowd up too late and have a cranky baby.."

laughter filled the crowd and Katsuki looked confused for a second and went to ask Shoto who they were talking about when it dawned on him, then he blushed and popped his paci in his mouth.

"In any case, would the three couples come up on stage.. Denki and Hanta, Midoriya and Ochaco and of course, the pair that's been getting ALL the attention tonight, Katsuki and Shoto please come up to the stage." Aizawa asked.

Denki and Hanta made it up on stage first and in a really cute pair, Hanta was dressed as Ash Ketchem, a toy poke-ball in his hand and wearing a Pikachu style sleeper and face paint was Denki. Aizawa offered the mike to them and Hanta took it with a silly grin.

"I'm ash and I'm gonna be the very best at everything I do! normally it's Pokemon but tonight it's best couples costume!" he said, hamming it up and getting chuckle and then before putting the mic in front of Denki asked. "Pikachu, anything to add?"

Denki grinned and then turning his head away from the mic to clear his throat, turned back and yelled. "PIKACHUUUUUUUUUU!"

'Oh wow, that was super cute!' Katsuki thought, waiting for him and daddies turn and hunching slightly now.

"Katsuki, you ok buddy?" Shoto asked in a low voice, though he had a knowing smirk.

"Y-yeah I'm good daddy." Katsuki said forcing a smile.

Up next was Midoriya and Ochaco as Super Mario and Princess peach, Midoriya's brush fake mustache didn't seem to wanna stay on his face though.

"It's a me! Marrrrrio!" Midoriya said in a unflattering attempt at Mario's voice and handed the mic off to Ochaco who was giving him a annoyed look and not noticing her own blond wig had shirted and the hem of her dress had gotten ripped in places where she had walked on it by mistake.

"..Peach!" she said and flashed a smile.

while Denki and Hanta had gotten a pretty good reaction, there was only a bit of polite clapping for this pair and then went over to stand and wait for the final decision.

'Heh.. their not gonna win..though those overall's looked comfy.' Katsuki thought, rubbing his tummy.

Finally it was their turn though Katsuki's tummy was going code red (Or a better phase for it would be code brown) and he wasn't sure he was gonna be able to even take more then a few steps without filling his diapers to the brim.

"Katsuki, it's our turn, come on buddy." Shoto said as the crowd waited.

"Is there a problem?" Aizawa asked, looking concerned.

"No! we're good!" Shoto called over and then turned to Katsuki and gave a weak smile. "You'll forgive me for this latter." he said and then ruffled the blonds hair even as Katsuki realized what was about to happen and went to say no.

Katsuki never could QUITE recall what happened next, though he had been told and the video was all over the internet. the facts were as soon as Shoto had finished the hair ruffles, Katsuki's big boy mind totally switched off and he moved ahead of Shoto, waving hi to every one and blowing kisses and took the mic..then chewed on it before Shoto race over and took it away.

"Sorry folks, you know how little guys can be, they have to put everything in their mouth! Katsuki, what do you have to say for yourself?" Shoto asked, wagging a finger as Katsuki handing the mic back and and hands on his hips.

Katsuki looked thoughtful, tapped the mic on his grin then grinned ear to ear.

"I GOTTA POOPIE!" he giggled and then turned around and squatted and with the barest of pushes it seem loaded his diapers rapidly.

Watching the YouTube video Katsuki still couldn't believe how much he had gone, even with the extra room from cutting back on one of the diaper the onesie snapped open. and if the site of the rapidly expanding diaper didn't convince you he was really going, the crowd shots as people went from laughing to holding their noses would. Shoto was a mix of proud and embarrassed in the video and tried to get the mic away from Katsuki and usher him off stage but the baby was having NONE of that.

"NO! THEY GOTTA SEE WHAT A SUPER POOPER I AM!" Katsuki insisted and when Shoto got the mike away Katsuki broke into tears and plopped on his butt having a tantrum which was when the video ended.

Needless to say they didn't win, heck they barely avoided getting expelled and to everyone who watched the act it was clear this had been their kink, NOT a costume.

With strict warning to keep it in their room and extra air fresheners installed in the hall by their room the pair were labeled daddy and diaper dork no matter how much Katsuki tried to explain it was just a one night thing.

Shoto would apparently back Katsuki up, at least when the two of them were together but when alone and asked, went on in great detail how Katsuki had wanted to show his true self for just one night.

And among all of the fall out from everything that happened, the biggest piss off at least for Katsuki was he now needed diapers, at least in the bedroom and he never did get rid of those stupid trigger that sent him over the edge.

So everyday after classes they would go back to their, And Katsuki lay's back on his teddy bear blanket and lets daddy diaper him and get him whatever cute outfit he's picked for that day and the cuddle and watch cartoons, Katsuki huffing about how much he hates it..at least until a butt pat or a hair ruffle.

The end

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