#i attempted a coloring but felt lazy since the rest of this challenge will be colorings 😭

[candychronicles]

enough // k. bakugou

A/N: My first prompt for the @bnhabookclub​ bingo event: nuzzling!

CHARACTER PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

WORD COUNT: 1,582

WARNINGS: genuine fluff

SYNOPSIS: a relaxing morning with Bakugou: does that even exist?

the sun peered through the wispy shades, creating a dancing mirage of yellow tint on the cream colored walls. you reached your hands up to caress the illumination, creating your personal dance of shade. your eyes remained transfixed on the wall, watching the shapes sway with one another. 

a soft sigh was heard to your right and you slowly lowered your hand, placing it delicately on top of his head, watching how the hair flattened under your gentle touch. Bakugou stirred slightly but did not move, simply continuing to sleep as the sun carried on with leaking into the room.

it only took a few more minutes before he too rose, roused by the now strong presence of the sun. vermillion eyes peered wearily up at your own, sleep coating his face in a soothing facade, something that was hard to come by with a man such as himself.

you cherished these delicate moments in the morning, where light met dark, sleep and consciousness blending together to create the most wonderful of dreams. Bakugou was a lot less gruff in the mornings, especially after a well rested night. he tended to rise with the sun and set with it as well, which was hard for someone like you, who binged content until three in the morning without batting an eyelash. 

there were moments though, moments where schedules aligned, where sleep was deep and long, and where you woke up just as the sun began to rise, allowing you to bask in the warmth of not only the light, but him as well.

his eyelashes were unusually long and plump, something you teased him about endlessly, secretly jealous. there was always a bit of a rosy hue as he woke up, creating a miniature sunrise on his face, pinks meshing together with the yellow hue streaming in from the window. he was so ethereal, someone who seemed so unattainable and yet so broken inside. 

you wanted to comfort him in anyway possible, but he took awhile to warm up to the idea of love, never allowing himself to come to close. it was only when you were together for awhile, sitting on the rooftop of your little apartment complex, that he broke down, confessing every feeling of hopelessness, worthlessness, and fear that he would never live up to his desires.

now, though, he was someone different all together, at least in the mornings. you were able to let him be vulnerable, let him sleep peacefully and wake up with a smile on his face because he knew that he could trust you with anything. that realization hit you hard, and the first time you thought of it, you cried, the weight of those thoughts heavy. after some time, though, you embraced the role, wanting nothing more than to give him a safe haven from every bad thought and action that he had to endure. 

“hey,” he whispered softly, bringing you out of your thoughts, warm hand caressing your face in an attempt to get you to look at him.

you immediately laid on your back, arms outstretched as you looped one arm around the back of his head, pulling him into your chest. you felt strong arms wrap around your middle, leg thrown over yours as he tugged you close, holding you for dear life.

Bakugou began nuzzling his face into your neck, sighing in contentment. your hands found its way to his hair again, this time carding your fingers through his hair, letting the soft feeling lull you back into a comfortable trance. you knew you wouldn’t be able to last for long before you either fell back asleep or were dragged out of bed, but you weren’t complaining, because at that moment, you were truly happy with life. 

“i think we should stay in bed all day,” you challenged, planting a soft kiss to his head as he grunted.

you knew that meant that either he agreed with you or he didn’t, but since he didn’t give you a real answer at all, you continued your actions, letting your sleepy hand smooth out his forehead, enjoying the way his soft skin felt against your own. 

just as you were about to fall back asleep, Bakugou squirmed, but instead of pulling away, he scooted closer, burying his head into the crook between your neck and shoulder once more, another contented sigh leaving his mouth.

“i guess that means you agree with me,” you teased, nuzzling your nose against the top of his head, placing yet another kiss.

“i shouldn’t want to stay in bed all day. i have a routine, but god damn are you making me want to break it, just this once,” he confessed, his breath tickling the hairs on the back of your neck as he continued to hide his face.

“routine is boring, old man. stay in bed with me awhile. you deserve a break.”

with that last statement, you resumed your ministrations, this time massaging his scalp with the pads of your fingers, eliciting a soft moan from the sleepy man. the feeling of love overwhelmed you but you didn’t care, wanting to simply continue to bask in the warmth for as long as possible. 

you didn’t know when but you were able to fall back asleep again, slipping into a peaceful, dreamless doze. when you awoke, Bakugou was gone, but his place was warm, suggesting that he had just recently gotten up. blinking the exhaustion from your eyes, you sat up, taking your time to stretch each muscle, from the tips of your fingers to the bottom of your toes. only when you were stretched did you get up, your bare feet softly squeaking against the cool hardwood floor.

your soft footfall alerted Bakugou long before you appeared in the kitchen, a happy and dazed look on your face as you smiled at him, teeth peeking between your stretched lips. 

“whatcha doing?” you questioned him lazily, sitting down at the table with a soft thud, resting your head on your outstretched arms.

“making breakfast. we have to eat at some point in the day,” he responded matter-of-factly, turning back around to continue with the meal.

you snorted, looking at the clock which told you that the time was barely past seven in the morning, but that didn’t bother him.

 you were just about to doze back off when a steaming plate of food slid in front of your face, which immediately perked you up. murmuring a quiet thanks you dug in, happy to be eating anything cooked by Bakugou.

“i think i’m going to stay in bed most of the day. watch cheesy rom coms, eat too much food, maybe get up and do some yoga, take a nap. i don’t think i want to do too much at all,” you declared, setting down your utensils when you were done eating.

“tch, you enjoy that. i’m going to do some paperwork and then go for a run.”

you shrugged, planting a soft kiss to his temple as you padded back towards the bedroom.

after you had watched a movie and stretched, taking time to work out all the kinks in your body, you decided to check up on Bakugou. opening the door and stepping out, you were met with a wall, a very warm wall. you stumbled back, rubbing your nose before peering up between your lashes, finding an unusually tired looking boyfriend.

“i’m showering and coming back to bed. i can’t focus on work and i barely got three miles before coming back home,” he explained quickly before heading to the shower, grabbing clothes as he went.

you frowned, not expecting him to actually join you on one of your infamous lazy days but not complaining nonetheless. only a few minutes had passed before he was exiting the bathroom, a Ground Zero merch t-shirt and baggy sweats adorning his frame.

“you look cute,” you teased, outstretching your arms, inviting him to join you in bed.

“shut up,” he retorted back, his large frame climbing onto you nonetheless, engulfing you in his caramel and honey body wash scent that you poked fun at him for but secretly loved, using it on yourself quite often.

immediately, your hands found purchase in his hair, twirling the damp strands between your fingertips before cupping the whole back of his head with your hand, gently squeezing and massaging his scalp.

his response was to simply nuzzle into your touch, lips finding their way to your neck where he planted a kiss, soft and sweet, a simple gesture to remind you that he was thankful for you helping him in his most vulnerable times.

you didn’t want to ask him what was wrong, didn’t want to figure out why he was thrown off his routine, because you knew he would come to you in his own time. for now, you simply wanted him to know that you were here, that you would always be here, and that you were going to take care of him at all times, starting off with holding him close.

“i love you, Katsuki, so much,” you breathed into his hair, squeezing his whole body tight.

he squeezed back with all his might, nuzzling his nose into your neck. 

Bakugou could be a complicated man, but in that moment, in your own little way, you knew that he was telling you he loved you back, more than anything, and that was enough. it would always be enough.

Tags: @jojosmilktea​​ @redbeanteax​ @softforshigi​ @katsuki-bakugous-lady​ @ttamaki​ @secondhand-trash​ @freiyalight​ @crystal-lilac​ @gallickingun​

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#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #bnhabookclub #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha

[kimnjss]

interrupted | jhs

⇢ pairing: hoseok x reader ⇢ fic type: one shot ⇢ genre: smut ⇢ word count: 4.3K ⇢ theme: idol!boyfriend, birthday boy. ⇢ warnings: unprotected sex (wrap up lovelies), fingering, oral sex (f/m. receiving, handjob, riding, light exhibionism/light voyeurism (jimin walks in on them), ruined orgasm, shower blowjob, cursing, dirty talk, cumshot ⇢ synopsis: after being away from you for over six months, hoseok has more than a few ideas on how to make the night special for you two and nothing, especially a nosy housemate, is going to stand in the way. ⇢ A/N: hobi smut for hobi day! this was kinda fun to write, hope it’s fun to read too!!

 FEBRUARY 18TH, 2020.

 Six months had gone by since you saw your boyfriend last. Half a year. To say that you missed him would be an understatement. Even with the nightly FaceTime calls and the daily texts, you still couldn't help the ache in your belly you got each time you saw him enjoying the world on his tour.

 Tonight, though, finally you were going to see him. You had been in preparation for this night since... let's face it since the day he left. You had gone out this morning, shaving and plucking every hair below your eyebrows. Got your fingers and toes done in his favorite color and even splurged when buying the lingerie you'd dress up in for him tonight.

 It was going to be perfect. As perfect as he was, especially because it was his birthday. It had been so long since he and his friends had become such big superstars, that you got to spend a birthday with him.

 You had been playing out just exactly how you'd kiss him when he walked through the door of his dorm. His lips always felt so good against yours, his hands always seemed to know where to land. You couldn't wait to feel it again.

 The dorm had become like a second home to you since you and Hoseok had started dating. Countless nights spent between his sheets, trying to keep quiet in fear of waking up Jimin. Breakfasts spent laughing with Jungkook in front of the TV, both holding equally large bowls of cereal. Dinner where you'd try to help Yoongi cook only to be shooed away by an annoyed Jin. Lunch dates spent on the balcony with Taehyung and Namjoon.

 These boys had become your family and it was safe to say you didn't only miss your boyfriend. It had been a while since you've seen your best friends too. But this wasn't about them, which was exactly what you were thinking when the front door slid open and a loud Taehyung walked through. He chatted with Jungkook who wasn't far behind him. Their words seemed to hang in the air as their eyes found you seated on the couch.

 Thank God, you had decided to throw a short but modest, trench coat over the inappropriate garment underneath. Jungkook glanced at your bare legs for a moment, hands crossing over his chest as a smirk spread over his lips.

 “Waiting for Hyung?” He wondered and you nodded silently, wondering what 'explicit details' Hobi had shared with these boys.

 Tae, the ever so bold one out of the two, didn't seem to care about your attire. Wordlessly, he was crossing the living room, scooping you up in his arms. He smelt thickly of the airport and outside but still a little bit like himself. His grip was strong as he held your body against his.

 “I missed you,” His words were delivered into your freshly washed hair, you hugged him back because wow, this boy could hug and you definitely had missed him too.

 Jin entered moments after Tae was releasing you, lugging about half of the luggage behind him. Yoongi followed with the other half, a large smile pulling on the younger's lips as he spotted you. “Yn! Thought Hoseok was exaggerating. You look pretty,” Yoongi's compliments, as little as they came, always seemed to make you feel warm. Hence the color in your cheeks and the sheepish 'Thank you' that fell from your lips.

 When Jimin and Joon were entering, you were starting to wonder just where your boyfriend was. You stood chatting with the guys in front of you, mindlessly catching up and making haste plans. Jimin was excited to show you some videos he had edited. Joon showed you pictures from his museum trips. Jin asking you question after question about the time spent apart. Each boy was fighting for your attention, voices overlapping but drowning out when the door pushed open.

 Your heart fluttered, pounding in your chest as you were met with the mop of dark hair. His sparkly eyes found yours through the mess that were your best friends. He was rushing over, ditching his bag at the front door. Arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he spun you in the air, only lowering you to press his lips against yours.

 The kiss was slow and sweet, a tiny bit of longing in there. When he was setting you down on your feet, staring lovingly into your eyes. You felt like you could cry. “I missed you so much, baby. Fuck.” His lips found yours again and your fingers curled in his hair.

 “I won't leave you again,” He was murmuring against your mouth. Your heart warmed even though you knew it was a lie. It was only a matter of time before they would be dropping their next album and traveling the world again. Pushing that thought to the side, you marveled in the joy, the pure happiness of finally being in his arms. Six months was a long time. Way too long.

 “What do you think? Should we all go grab a bite? Birthday dinner?” Joon was suggesting and normally you'd be so down to stuff your face and hang out with your boys but right now you just wanted to be alone with Hobi. He seemed to read your mind, shaking his head before the sentence could fully leave his friend's mouth.

 “You guys can go, we'll eat here or whatever.” Joon was catching on, a few moments given to decide where they'd eat before the six of them were filing out and climbing back into the car. At the sound of the door shutting, Hoseok had his eyes on you. This time dark and lust-filled, short strides lowering your body onto the couch, his legs on either side of you.

 He smirked. “What's under here?” The tips of his fingers played with the shiny black buttons of your coat. His gaze shifting from his fingers to your face, catching the look in your eye as you chewed on your lower lip.

 “Why don't you take off the coat and find out?” You challenged and he didn't waste a minute. With much haste he was tugging the buttons of the coat away from their sockets, shoving the pieces of clothing away until his eyes were landing on the lace of your blush pink lingerie set. “Fuck,” He sighed, leaning down to press a kiss to your awaiting neck.

 Large hands splayed over your lace-covered breast, testing the size with a gentle squeeze. His face was nuzzling into the crook of your neck, lips teasing the sensitive skin. A moan slipped through your lips, your hands reaching up to bury in his soft locks.

 “I missed you so much,” His words were murmured against his skin, the tip of his tongue jutting out movements after to suck some of your flesh into his mouth. His hands traveling to your back, blindly searching for the clasp of your bra. He was pulling back at the snap, carefully removing the garment from your body and tossing it aside.

 Honestly, you lived for the firey lust behind his eyes. The rapid rise and fall of his chest revealing how worked up being like this was making him.. you two hardly even done anything, yet. “So pretty,” Hoseok complimented, a large hand resting against your rib cage as the pad of his thumb brushed over your hardening nipple.

 You shuddered, flinched not realizing how sensitive you were. He smirked at your reaction, repeating the movement of his thumb and grinning at your sharp intake of breath. “Feel good?” He had lifted his hand, closing the nipple between his index and middle knuckle, you nodded. 

 Eyes never leaving yours, Hoseok was leaning down until he was able to close his lips around your free nipple. You moaned, back arching. His tongue flattened against the nub, rolling it around his mouth slowly and you felt like you'd go crazy if he didn't speed this up.

 As good as this felt. How badly you had missed any form of his touch, you really wanted to feel him. You hadn't stopped thinking about it and months so, at this point, foreplay could wait. You didn't need warming up, you were already soaked.

 As an attempt to prove your mental point, you were reaching for the hand that covered your breasts. You felt his tongue freeze, anticipation taking over as you lowered his down your body. Spreading your legs, you slipped his palm underneath the lace of your panties. The tips of his fingers met your wetness, pulling a groan from both of your mouths.

 “You missed me that much?” He teased with a smirk, a finger drawing teasing circles over your clit. You tried to move your hips in hopes to add pressure, speed, something to the lazy swirl of his finger. He laughed a strong hand finding your waist and pinning you down into the cushion. You pouted. “Hobi, please...” You whined.

 He was shushing you, leaning down to capture your lips with his; at the same time pushing two fingers past your folds and into your entrance. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, spreading your legs to welcome whatever he was willing to give you. His fingers moved in time with his tongue in your mouth, pushing and pulling at the same time.

 “Oh, f-fuck!” Your lips were falling from his, shouting at a particularly deep thrust of his fingers. The tips just barely brushing against your sweet spot and you knew he had missed it on purpose. He held his fingers still inside of you, his thumb lifting and covering your clit. Quick short circles around the bundle of nerves and his eyes never left yours.

 You could feel it building. Starting at the pit of your stomach and slowly spreading all the way down to your toes. “Babe... uh,” your hips had started to shake your legs following suit. “I'm... fuck, Hobi!” The tips of his fingers were pressing down on your gspot before quickly moving away and continuing the short thrusts, before hitting it again.

 After the third contact, you were falling apart, pressure snapping as you reached your peak. Hoseok watched with hungry eyes, fingers moving lazily in and out of you as you rode out your orgasm. He was only pulling out when you were sinking into the comfort of the cushion, trying to regulate your breathing. Sliding his fingers into his mouth, he made a show of licking your juices from his wet digits, humming his approval as he pulled them out.

 “Always so sweet,” He was sitting upon his knees, the same hand slipping into his sweatpants. You watched as he pulled himself from behind the fabric; drooling at the sight. He was so hard, so long, so thick, glistening with precum. His hand stroked himself slowly, “Take those off,” Even without much direction, you were able to piece together that he was referring to your sticky panties. You were quick with pulling them from your body, tossing them out of the way.

 “Pretty,” He commented, freehand dropping to spread your lips a bit. “You went to the salon today?” Such great attention to detail, you nodded. Although, he wasn't too focused on your answer... his entire concentration on guiding himself past your entrance.

 Inch-by-inch, he slid himself in. Stretching you with slight discomfort. Yeah, six months was definitely too long. He breathed once he was all the way inside, dropping down to take your lips in another heated kiss, giving you some time to adjust to having inside of you again.

 It didn't take long for it to start to feel good, gasping at the feel of him pulling out slowly. Moaning when he was pushing back in. His face stayed buried in the crook of your neck as he fucked into you, groans and grunts dying against your skin as he landed sloppy kisses wherever he could reach.

 His teeth were grazing against your shoulder and his fingers were finding your nipple again. He pinched, making you gasp and clench around him. “S-shit...” There was a stutter in his thrusts, his breathing quickly becoming uneven. “So tight... mmh, fuck. You're squeezing me so tight, baby, fuck. You feel so good,”

 Not able to form a proper coherent sentence, the only thing leaving your lips were desperate whimpers and sighs of his name. He liked it. Watching you fall apart like this, being the reason for it. Hearing his name fall from your pretty lips in such sexy moans. He lived for it.

 There was something oddly sexy in the way he looked when he fucked you. Especially right now. Hadn't even bothered to undress, his white shirt sticking to his sweaty chest slightly, black sweats lowered just enough for his cock to be free. He had sat up, hands grasping your hips as he moved you against him. Eyes screwed shut and messy hair falling all over his forehead. He was yours. Still couldn't believe it even now. All yours and you loved him.

 Oh. “O-oh, keep going,” You pleaded, feeling the pressure rising again. He looked at you, 'as-if-I'd-ever-stop'. Hoseok was wrapping his arms around your thighs, holding your body tight against his as he moved harder and faster. It wasn't long before you were screeching, begging for more as you fell apart for the second time that night.

 He was pulling out quickly, seconds after. Spilling his release onto your stomach. The sounds he was making were so hot, it nearly pushing you over the edge a third time. His body was falling slack against the back of the couch and you were lifting your body to find his lips.

 Hoseok's lips moved over yours lazily, a soft laugh leaving his lips when his hand made contact with his sticky cum that covered your waist. “Shower?” Sensing your agreement, he was standing and lifting you along with him. Legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you up the stairs to his bedroom.

 You had missed times like this, being able to be around him without a worry in the world. Arms wrapped around his torso as you laid your cheek to his back, the two of you stood under the warm spray of water. The tips of his fingers ran over your arms as he hummed an unrecognizable tune. Content.

 “Should I wash the birthday boy's hair?” Your words were cutting through the silence after a few moments of standing together. He was turning in your arms, lips curling into a large smile before he was finding your forehead. “I love you like this,” He grinned, reaching behind you to grasp his shampoo. Handing it down to you, his hands rested on your hips. “Please,” He smiled.

 Lathering up your palms, your fingers were burying themselves in his soft damp locks. Not one to dye his hair as often as the others, although blonde his hair was still soft and fluffy between your fingers. The soft moan slipping past let you know that he was enjoying the way your fingers brushed against his scalp.

 Body pressed against his, you ran the soap through his hair, only peaking down momentarily to catch the sexy look on his face. Eyes closed slightly, jaw clenched and lips pursed. When you were leaning forward, lips finding the wet skin of his neck, he was gasping. Breath hitching in his throat as your mouth worked over his skin.

 That plus the gentle tug of your fingers in his hair had his cock growing hard against your thigh. The stiffness quickly pulling your from what your fingers were doing, mind wandering to what your mouth should be doing. Before you could talk yourself out of it, your soapy hand slid down to cover his length. Leaving a trail of suds as you stroked him gently, the hushed groans leaving his lips turning you on.

 Sucking him off had always been one of your favorites. He was always so vocal, so sensitive when you had his cock down your throat. You knew he loved the way you looked with his cock down your throat, could tell with the way he didn't dare to take his eyes off you not even for a second.

 Shifting your bodies, you allowed enough water to hit him, to wash off the soapy mess your hand had made on his cock before you were lowering yourself in front of him. Sensing what was to come, Hoseok's eyes were snapping open, looking down at you with such a hungry stare, waiting.

 Grinning, you reached for his cock, kitten licks landing on the base of it all the way up to the tip. You opened up your mouth wide for him, swallowed him down in an instant, knowing the great distaste he held for teasing. His hands were dropping, tangling themselves in your wet hair as he guided the bobs of your head.

 “You're... fucking, amazing.” He praised with a sigh. Hips rocking, as you held your mouth open. Hands braced on his thighs as he fucked into your throat. Hoseok fit nicely in your mouth as if his cock was made to be sucked by you. You let him do what he wanted, thrust into your mouth at whatever pace he so desired. Looking up at him with lust-filled eyes because fuck... that was your man up there. Hair still coated with shampoo, face twisted with pleasure, light bruises on his muscular body from no other than too much handwork in the dance room.

 You loved him. Knew him through and through. Could tell right when he was about to fall apart, like right now. The loud cruse that left his lips, the tightened hold he had on your hair, the stutter in his hips, all tell-tale signs that he was about to explode.

 “Yn, yn... shit,” He held your head in pace, rocked his hips into your mouth. Got ready to let go and jumping at the icy cold liquid now hitting his back. Cock slipping from your mouth as he yelped, turning quickly to cut the water off.

 You couldn't fight the laugh that slipped through your lips at the sight of him fighting with the nozzle. Standing to your feet and wiping your lips, you reached out to grab your towel that had been hanging on the other side of the door. “I think that's a sign, cumming in the tub you share with Jimin is not a great idea,”

 He was rolling his eyes at your comment, rinsing the rest of the soap out of his hair before completely turning the water off. His nose scrunched at the sight of you wrapped up in your towel, shaking his head as a laugh left his lips. “I'm not done with you,” He reached for it, tugging it free. Quick to lift your body from the floor and wrap your legs around his waist. Giggles slipped past your lips, arms secured around your neck as you teased his ear with your tongue.

 Hoseok took heavy steps to the bed, tossing you down with little effort, watching with a wide grin as you bounced. Laughing, you tried to keep yourself from rolling off of the edge. “You're pretty.” He complimented, making you blush. He stood there, staring for a moment before he was climbing up until he was hovering over you.

 Not wasting a second, his hand was spreading your legs apart, the other grasping his cock as he guided himself back into your entrance. You gasped, loving the way it felt being stretch out by him, how easily he'd just mold into you.

 “Fuck, so perfect.” He sighed.

 Your hands had found his back, gentle strokes of your nails trailing over the skin. He was slowly pulling back, head ducked as he watched the way he slid out of you before he was thrusting forward, groaning out. He repeated that until he was falling into a comfortable pace.

 Breathy moans left your lips, not realizing until now how quickly he was able to get you worked up. You tried to keep up with him, lifting your hips to meet his. “You feel so good, Hobi...” the snap of his hips didn't slow, his hands busy on your chest, teasing your nipples with quiet fascination, mouth trying to decide between your neck and your lips.

 All of it was just too much. He was taking over your entire body and all you could think of was him. All you could breathe was him. He was filling up all your senses, but you weren't complaining. You loved this. Had gone too long without it, didn't want to miss him again.

 Legs tightening around his waist, you pulled him close. The feeling of your orgasm quickly approaching. You felt it in your chest, the ache in your pussy only growing stronger the deeper he slid into you. “F-fuck! Hoseok,” You panted.

 Just as you were about to lose it, fall apart for him for the third time that night, he was stopping. Your eyes flew open, searching to find the reason he was pulling out. A chaste kiss to your lips shushed whatever protest you had been forming.

 You watched as he shifted into a seated position, back against the headboard before he was reaching for you. “Get on top,” He ordered and you didn't have to think twice before you were lifting your heavy body and lowering yourself onto his lap.

 Wrapped around him like a koala, you began to move against him. Loving the slow grind of his hips in this angle, the way your clit ground against his pelvis with each thrust. It wasn't long until you were there again, lost in him and chasing your orgasm. His hands rested on your ass, palming and kneading the flesh, just barely guiding your movements.

 So far gone, you didn't hear the push of the door. Didn't notice the man that stepped in. Hoseok was quick to catch sight of the movement from across the room, eyes narrowing on Jimin who stood wide-eyed in the doorway. Not able to look away, even though he knew he should.

 “I'm so close... don't, fuck... don't stop, please.” You whined, hips moving frantically against your boyfriend's. Hoseok was lifting his hips again, thrusts much slower and controlled. 'Get out,' He mouthed to the intruder who had yet to move from his spot.

 'I need my charger.' Jimin was quiet with the way he rummaged through his belongings, but you were still confused with the way Hobi was holding back. You were so close and all you needed was just a little bit more. Reaching your hand down to find your clit, you toyed with it, pulling a long moan from your lips.

 “Hobi, please...” You shifted, head lifting and eyes opening. Hoseok was quick with leaning up, covering your lips with his as he began to speed up his movements. Knowing how embarrassed you'd be if you turned and saw Jimin behind you, taking an awfully long time to find his stupid charger.

 A yelp fell from your lips at the sudden power returning in his thrusts. Whimpers leaving your lips as you felt your orgasm approaching more faster this time. “Oh my God! Fuck, f-fuck... Hoseok.” Incoherent sighs and praise left your lips until the tension was snapping, your hips moving frantically as you began to unravel.

 There was an obvious sound of shuffling feet, followed by the unnecessary loud slam of the bedroom door. Your body jolted, perked up as you glanced behind you. “What was that?” You asked through your heavy breaths, eyes finding your flushed boyfriend underneath you.

 “Jimin, he...”

 “He was in here!?” Your eyes widened, jumping off of him and burying yourself underneath the blanket as if Jimin had still been standing in there. “Why didn't you stop?” Hobi sunk down beside you, an arm wrapping around your waist.

 “I didn't want you to be embarrassed,”

 “So let him watch me have an orgasm was the better option?” How mortifying. Jimin had seen you cum, heard you cum. There was no telling what type of dirty shit left your mouth while you were coming down and he heard it all.

 “I tried to slow down...” Hoseok defended lamely. Deep down you knew he was right. You were sure that if you had actually seen Jimin's face in the act of it, you would've been way more embarrassed. Not able to look him in the eye, although, you weren't sure you'd even be able to do that now.

 Groaning, your hands flew up to cover your face. Shaking your head from side to side. “God, I can't believe this...” Hoseok let out a soft laugh, scooting close to press his lips against the side of your face. “It's not a huge deal. There's 7 of us, you know? We've lived together for a while, this isn't the first time.” 

 You ignored him, not wanting to think about what other girls he had been caught with in the past. Lips traveling toward your neck and fingers drawing random patterns against your thigh, you could feel his grin. “You know, you looked really sexy, just then.”

 Putting some distance between the two of you, you rolled your eyes. “We're not going again after that! They're probably going to be listening for it now,” You were so sure that Jimin had already given the other guys an earful of what he had just stumbled on.

 “So? They already know what we're doing up here. We have six months to make up for,” He had moved in close again, letting you feel how hard he still was. “I didn't even get to cum,” He pouted and that was just about all the convincing you needed.

 “Go lock the door,” He grinned, getting up with your gentle push on his shoulder, trudging across the room and flicking the door locked. “Happy birthday to me,” He sang as he made his way back to the bed, pulling your body up onto his.

#hobi day #jung hoseok #hoseok #hoseok fic #hoseok smut #hoseok imagine #hoseok one shot #bts fic #hoseok x reader #hoseok fluff #idol!boyfriend #idol!hoseok #hoseok angst #hobi fic #hobi smut #hobi smut au #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #bts smut #namjoon #jin #yoongi #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #bts smut au

[uwua3]

your name (pt. 3)

❄️📚 tsukiokia tsumugi

part 1 — part 2 — part 3

summary: as tsumugi wakes up, he meets your best friend

warnings: lack of food

author’s note: good day everyone! i hope you enjoy part 3 of my newest series !! ₍₍ ( ๑॔˃̶◡ ˂̶๑॓)◞♡ please have a good rest of your day~! :D tsumugi & tasuku ♡LOVE♡ you!!!

word count: 1,966

Tsumugi woke up.

For once, he felt well rested. That’s when Tsumugi knew something wasn’t right. Rapidly straightening his back, Tsumugi felt like he was living in the past. It seemed as if he was in a classroom, a setting Tsumugi hadn’t seen in quite a long time. Rows of clean desks surrounded him neatly, with students filing in to fill each seat. Tsumugi slowly looked around, the bright sunlight nearly blinding him as a cloudless blue sky greeted him. The chatter of noisy college students became more audible, and Tsumugi felt like he was back on the morning shinkansen. As Tsumugi looked out the window at the small school campus, a hand abruptly ruffled his hair.

“Morning, lazy. You just got here and you’re already tired?” The boy scoffed, but not in a cruel way. It was a manner of speaking that came from being childhood friends, even if Tsumugi had no idea who this man was. Tsumugi cleared his throat, unsure of how to respond before his eyes widened. Just at that slight sound, Tsumugi could tell this wasn’t some dream. And, this wasn’t his body to begin with.

“Hey… wait, you okay?” The man asked, concerned but when he addressed Tsumugi by a new name, Tsumugi could feel his heartbeat in his ears. What was going on? Where was he? Who was he? Who was this student before him? As Tsumugi barely comprehended the situation, the bell rang as the teacher walked in. Immediately, every student stood up to greet the head instructor. The man just talking to Tsumugi pulled him up by the arm, forcing him to bow so he wouldn’t get in trouble. The touch upon his lower back seemed to bring him back to reality, because Tsumugi forced out a polite “Good morning, sensei” in tune with everyone else. As everyone sat back down, the man sat next to Tsumugi with worry apparent in his facial expression.

The man already appeared cross and serious at first glance, but the furrow in his thick black eyebrows was even more alarming. As the professor began lecturing about some subject he had a basic understanding of, a note was expertly slipped onto his desk without another word. Tsumugi could tell the pair had done this more times than they could count. Tsumugi hadn’t, so his fingers were unfamiliar with opening the paper without getting caught.

Meet me on the rooftop after class — Tasuku

Tasuku, Tasuku, Tasuku. Tsumugi read the name over and over again, even after he shot Tasuku a weak thumbs up (he had received a confused look back, but a nod nonetheless). Something about that name rang every alarm inside his head, but then again, it’s not like Tsumugi trusted his gut. Where did he know that name from? It was out of the ordinary for Tsumugi to mindlessly drift off during a lesson, but he couldn’t help it. Tsumugi was silently accepting that this was all too real to be a figment of his wild imagination.

The sound of the harsh eraser ripping paper, furious note-taking with pens, the conversation from other classrooms drifting through the open windows. It was all so much to take in at once. The professor went on as they wrote key points with chalk upon the green board, the loud scratch and clack of the white dust making Tsumugi’s head spin. Tsumugi didn’t even take out his notebook at first, and when he did, he realized this handwriting was not his own. The person’s writing was messy and rushed, like all his other students. It was for a subject Tsumugi didn’t recall that well. Before Tsumugi could read the date of the entry, another hand was placed upon his shoulder. Warily, this time.

“Class is dismissed.” Tasuku stated, as a matter of fact. Tsumugi didn’t have to do much to confirm it was true, as the group of students left for their lunch period. Even the professor was looking at the two, wondering why they were still here. With a flush of embarrassment, Tsumugi quickly grabbed his bag and nodded, unable to speak. Tasuku’s eyebrows raised even higher at this profound silence, but didn’t say another word before tilting his head towards the corridor. Tsumugi had no choice but to follow. What else could Tsumugi do except put all his trust into this random student named Tasuku?

The two walked against the crowd, but no one paid any mind to Tsumugi. That was the joy of college, Tsumugi gratefully remembered. Everyone was always too busy with their own plans that judging others became a hobby only for the privileged. Or, maybe it was the fact Tsumugi’s small frame was already being covered by Tasuku anyways. Tasuku was tall, much taller at this shorter height Tsumugi found himself in. Not only that, but Tasuku was clearly physically fit, with bulging muscles beneath his skin tight soccer shirt. The uniform was designed with unfamiliar school colors, and Tsumugi didn’t recognize the name of the university. However, Tsumugi read the name in bold letters on the back with a sense of recognition.

Takoto #6. Takoto Tasuku. Tsumugi thought of this name over and over again. It wasn’t until Tasuku looked over his shoulder with narrowed eyes that he randomly stopped in the middle of the hallway. Life went on as students simply passed them without sparing a look.

“Did you just say my name?” Tasuku asked, and Tsumugi grew redder realizing he was most likely muttering out loud. Perhaps that reaction wasn’t normal, because Tasuku quickened his pace to the rooftop. Tsumugi attempted to match Tasuku’s steps, but the height difference was staggering. It was clear Tasuku was some big name soccer player with how fast he was. Whoever Tsumugi was, was not that athletic.

Tasuku held open the door as the two made their way up the stairs. Entering the rooftop, Tsumugi could spot a few students here and there eating their packed lunch as the wind carried their conversations away. At this height, Tsumugi could barely see anything except scattered homes and thousands of trees. A little town not too far from here was peeking through on the mountainside, and Tsumugi almost forgot how peaceful a small town was. Tasuku sat down near a net, waiting for Tsumugi to choose a place as well.

This must’ve been some sort of test, because Tasuku was carefully watching him. Naturally, Tsumugi sat beside Tasuku on the right like it was second nature. That seemed to be the right choice, because Tasuku let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Without taking out his bento box, Tasuku crossed his arms as he leaned against the volleyball net pole.

“We’re alone now. What’s wrong with you?” Tasuku finally asked, carefully analyzing Tsumugi’s every move. Tsumugi didn’t know what to say; he was usually the one listening, not talking. It was out of his comfort zone to now be expected to talk. What was he supposed to even say? What did this original person even act like? Tsumugi wished he could read Tasuku, but the man was a closed book so far.

“I… I’m just tired.” Tsumugi admitted, trying not to pay attention to every inflection in this new voice. Tsumugi knew he’d just overthink himself to death if he actually observed every little change in this new environment. It definitely wasn’t a lie to say he was overwhelmingly exhausted, not only with this body switch but with life’s challenges in general. Tasuku seemed to see that, since he nodded and accepted the response. Thankfully, it seemed like Tasuku wasn’t the type to demand an explanation so quickly. At that, the two finally took out their lunches and ate in relative silence.

Tsumugi took some time to think everything over rationally as he tried to not devour this homemade lunch. It had been so long since he had anything not from the 7/11 convenience store. Right now, he was having an onigiri only a grandmother could make. It took all of Tsumugi’s willpower not to act like he was starving (he was) in front of the effortlessly cool and intimidating Takoto Tasuku.

From the short time Tsumugi’s known him, Tasuku was already impressive. Students acknowledged him in the hallways, he obviously had a reputation with sports, and he was a loyal friend right from the start. Tsumugi couldn’t help but admire him, even if he had just met the man a mere hour ago. But, there was something about Tasuku. Something more. Tsumugi couldn’t place his finger on what exactly made Tasuku feel so... familiar.

Tsumugi spaced out, already finishing his lunch. Before Tsumugi could get too distracted, Tasuku’s hand appeared in his sight once more. This appeared to be a common theme, not that Tsumugi minded. In Tasuku’s hand was a pair of chopsticks holding some sort of… fried fish?

“Here. Make sure to eat more, I can hear your stomach from here.” Tasuku grumbled, pretending like it was an inconvenience to take care of Tsumugi, but his proud puff of his chest betrayed him when Tsumugi took a bite. It was so good, Tsumugi wanted to know the recipe straight away. At the sight of his sparkling eyes, Tasuku just pushed his box over, insisting that he wasn’t hungry anymore.

“Besides, I have to stay fit for my game tomorrow anyways. You’re coming, right?” Tasuku shot Tsumugi a genuine smile when he immediately nodded his head. Tsumugi internally cursed himself over the fact he had no idea where Tasuku was even playing, but shoved food into his mouth to avoid thinking about it too hard.

“I-I’m…” Tsumugi swallowed the vegetables quickly, forgetting his mouth was open to begin with. He truly wasn’t used to this much food being in his mouth all at once. Tasuku smirked, trying to stifle his snicker behind his hand as he pretended to cough into his fist. Tsumugi didn’t know why, but his immediate reflex was to send a light punch against Tasuku’s bicep. Was that the right move? Tasuku froze for a split second before sending one back, twice as hard. Ow.

“I’ll be your biggest fan tomorrow, Ta-chan.” Tsumugi said honestly, not knowing if it was solely his words or someone else’s. Maybe, even a mixture of both. Tsumugi never got swayed by anyone quickly, but it was hard not to do that when Tasuku seemed to be his only friend. Tasuku widened his eyes before looking away, watching some boys play volleyball with a slight hue of red across his cheeks. Tasuku was desperately trying to hide his embarrassment, but it was a fail once his voice cracked at the beginning of his next sentence.

“Ta-chan? You haven’t said that in so long, idiot.” Tasuku ended roughly, acting like this was nothing. Tsumugi didn’t have the heart to tease such a nice boy, and just hummed.

“Thanks, though.” Tasuku quietly replied, and Tsumugi just noticed his country twang to his words. They must’ve been hours from Tokyo, Tsumugi mused, but he smiled anyways. Tsumugi didn’t know how it looked upon this face, but it seemed to work when Tasuku smiled back.

The bell rang once more, signaling the end of recess and lunch. Tasuku stood up and offered his hand, the other behind his neck as his blush became prominent in the daylight.

“Come on, you must not want to move with how much food you ate.”

“It was good!” Tsumugi defended himself, but took Tasuku’s hand anyway. Something flashed in Tsumugi’s vision before it was gone as soon as it came. Tsumugi didn’t think anymore of it, and followed Tasuku to the next class.

Tsumugi was so full and content that he didn’t realize he didn’t let go of Tasuku’s hand all the way to class.

#tsukioka tsumugi #tsumugi tsukioka #a3! act! addict! actors! #a3! #act! addict! actors! #a3! actor training game #mankai a3! #mankai company #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #tsumugi x reader #a3! tsumugi #a3 tsumugi

[theunholygrails]

Very Differently

Summary: This isn’t really new, just something I never got around to posting here. Basically my take on Budapest with an OC added to the mix for fun. 

Masterlist

Zdravstvuyte

The shadows cast from the wastefully clad guests in the soft angles and indecipherable masses were notably more elegant than the calculating frowns of their creators. A gloved hand traced along a freshly polished curling oak banister as Sonja made her was to join the babbling benefactors. Leaflets of conversations rustled not long enough to take root but simply flew past on the careful air of disinterest her fellow hosts held about them. With a sharp nod of her head and a demure curve of her lips, she joined the nearest transaction.

Arms dealing can be tricky business when neither party particularly trusted the other.

Jewels painted the necklines of her most generous buyer and in their pristine surfaces, she could make out the warning flash of the smallest red dot. Sonja shifted with a subtle flip of her hair to block the shot and simultaneously tapped her earpiece.

“Ma’am, I do believe my husband is coming down with something fatal.” she said.

Even if she did not have a husband to speak of, the message was abundantly clear—the event was compromised because Black Widow herself was present.

“Take care of it, Chief. I need this night to be spotless.”

“Got it.”

Security hustled onto the floor at Sonja’s signal to escort each of the dozen or so guests back to their armored vehicles.

With the prompting of her boss in her ear, Sonja slipped out the back door to attempt to uncover any tracks the Widow might have left behind.

The wet asphalt did little to help her heels find traction as she scanned the nearest buildings for the optimal vantage point the spy must have taken to train a snipper on people under her protection. With the rest of her security team busy locking down the premises, she was left to the goose chase even though looking for tracks from this particular prey was about as promising as searching for footprints after a storm.

She tensed when something popped right beside her ear and the sharp slap of metal hit her cheek. She scolded her hammering heart and forced a calm gaze to the arrow that kissed her skin and was now imbedded in the wall. Her hand went to the dual blades tucked against her thighs knowing full well that any assassin after her would not be foolish enough to miss twice.

A test of her ear piece told her its signal had been knocked out somehow. A heavy pair of boots splashed down beside her and she whipped into a defensive pose before the archer could cut her mission short.

The man kneeling across from her had his bow pressed to the ground and his black stealth suit clinging to him like any woman in her proper mind would in a scenario a little less lethal than this. Given a situation where she were allowed to use her real name and wash the blonde dye from her hair, she might have done just that because his looks were wasted on the dark, filthy streets of Samara, Russia.

“Hello, easy, Chief. I’m not here for you. Sonic took out your communications, also I was listening in a little bit, Ma’am is a weird name. Is that like the birth one or did she rename herself that? I’m looking for the Widow. You know anything?”

“Does anyone?” she flicked her blades so they would glint in warning beneath the lazy stars.

“They sent one person out to challenge her? Seems a little under kill. Unless you’re just the bait.”

She advanced a step to show just how much of a danger she truly was. His mouth curved up in amusement when he rose from his crouch. “You’re not going to let me leave,” he said.

“I fear my boss will want to speak with anyone chasing her.”

“Knew better,” he sighed. “Alright, let’s do this before I have to check out of my hotel.”

Her first swipe cut only into nothing as he swiveled around to her back. She feigned left, sweeping her right foot back to catch his ankles.

“Woah, who taught you that?” he demanded, dancing over the attack.

While she paused to process his stunned remark his completely unstunned body cracked his bow against her forehead. She grabbed at his forearm, twisting until it clattered free of his grip. “Quiet, American.”

“Was it Hill?” he carried on. “You with S.H.I.E.L.D?”

Now she faltered and he did not take the opportunity to jam any of his color coordinated arrows into her temple.

“I wasn’t told of another operative here,” he babbled.

She slammed her shoulder into his chest and landed him flat on his ass where she could properly threaten him.

“I’m handling it.”

“This is about as under control as a mouse wrestling a snake.”

“You realize I’m pinning you right,” she demanded, dropping her knees to either side of his hips and pressing the flats of her blades against either of his wrists.

“That means nothing. I’m letting you. Just so you know, they asked me to do your job first. Also, the first and last fight I had with the Widow ended with my jaw dislocated. That was back when I cornered her in Milan. That makes me a mouse too.”

“Sadly, I think that just makes more dinner for the snake instead of an overwhelming force.”

He shrugged his eyebrows and glanced down pointedly. With a sigh she crawled to sit beside him as he grunted and rolled onto his stomach. Hands propped under his head as princess worthy blue eyes fluttered up at her. “Feel better? I think you missed bruising one of my ribs if you wanted a clean sweep.”

“I was going to ask why Fury didn’t tell me you were coming, but pretending you don’t exist does seem to be the only way to deal with your bullshit.”

“Supposed to be super top fucking secret but since you kind of outed me, not cool by the way, want to work together to charm a snake?”

“Is she a spider or a snake, man? Make up your damn mind.”

He rocked back, clutching his knees as a laugh barreled through him. “Oh, I like you. You don’t get a say now. We’re working together. Got something more stealthy than that yellow dress?”

***

She did not give one rat’s ass how he got into her apartment only that he could have possibly blown her cover.

“Brought flowers. Told the doorman I wanted to surprise you.”

“Was the surprise that I had a boyfriend?” she deadpanned as she shrugged off her bulky overcoat.

“Fiancé, when he asks but that’s not why I’m here. I need your help bringing her in. She vanished, shook all my tracking abilities. From what I hear, you’re pretty handy with the underworld system.”

“If you hear anything then I’m doing my job wrong. Why would you want her brought in anyway? Isn’t protocol to take out someone that rouge and dangerous?”  

He gave his knees a firm pat before pushing off them to match their heights. “I think she could prove an asset. I made this call. If it goes south, it’s on me. I know I’m asking you to compromise yourself but from what I can tell, the Widow is more involved in mafia’s inner working than the little crew you head. We find her, we get you your hot target too.”

“Ma’am is a pretty cold-hearted bitch from ghost chatter I’ve picked up.”

A tug of his grey hoodie secured it around his face for a safety net just in case anyone was spying in from the dirt smeared window to their right. Sonja was afforded no such luxury because her face was always bared to the world. She was buried way too deep in her world of shit to risk disguises. “Funny. We should work well together.”

“What’s your clearance?” She demanded.

The space of her apartment was deemed worthy of her retailer to host grand parties of up to a dozen people but she already felt stuffy with his confident presence entirely too close to her though he remained clear across the green wallpapered room with his feet twisting into her recently purchased, hand woven rug. It was probably worth three times his ratty boots with its intricate depiction of a fanfare of angels descending the heavens; this man was no angel.

“Alpha.”

“That doesn’t exist. Ten is the highest. I would know, I was the reason they created it.”

A tilt of his head told her he was only amused with her declaration and not in awe like all other inferiors she came across. “Welcome to Alpha then. I’ll fill you in on the plane.”

“I thought you didn’t know where she was.”

“I said she shook me. That doesn’t mean I don’t know her well enough to predict where she would go. Pack light, Budapest can be unforgiving this time of year.”

“Got a name?”

“Got a code, Hawkeye. Yours?”

“Zero.”

***

Being nearly run over three time while crossing a single street was a personal record for Sonja. Hawkeye was weighed down beneath a tan backpack filled with waters, old and clunky laptops, maps, granola bars (as if she could live off of those along), and a very distinct lack of weapons. Hawkeye had insisted on leaving them behind because airport security did not make exceptions for undercover agents and using a private jet would raise too many eyebrows. He had extracted her daggers from her and then held his hand out expectantly for the spares he could not have known she kept tucked neatly between her planner and wallet in her purse. She felt slightly less naked when he tossed his bow as well but still would rather not relying on their combined wit and charm since her partner appeared to be painfully lacking in both and making up for it with 100 proof sarcasm.

The wind buckled with the weight of the dry air it carried and tugged at the ends of Sonja’s hastily dyed and chopped off brunette locks. A sunhat kept the loose waves mashed against her face and even bigger sunglasses kept the prying sun at bay along with Hawkeye’s dancing glances back to make sure she was keeping up with his soundless steps.

“Come on,” he called even though the only closer she could have been to him would be to just piggyback it.

“Where is the safe house again?” she called over the roar of traffic.

He pause while a couple bustled between them, their heads bent in deep conversation then nodded politely to a minister though she doubted his devilish grin could even point out a church. “Next block. You wanna take over bag duty? I’ve got this crick in my neck I haven’t been able to shake since the plane.”

“That’s because you were stupid enough to sleep on the plane. On my shoulder no less. There’s a drool stain.”

The bag was tossed at her chest where her hands caught it without the aid of her gaze leaving his. “If your posture was more slumped we wouldn’t have this problem.”

“Excuse me for remaining vigilant.”

“Trust me, your people don’t know you’re missing yet. You’ve probably got until noon.” His eyes skipped between his blank wrist and the sun overhead to judge the time. “And once we get set up with internet, I will clear the airways of anything we might have left behind. Say, do you think you could give me some sort of reaction? The constant dead expression is a bit intimidating.”

“I can see why the Widow dislocated your jaw, you talk too much.”

She spotted the covert insignia for S.H.I.E.L.D. and pushed past him to key in the day’s number sequence for entrance. There was distinct absence of air conditioning when they entered the stale room sitting on the basement level of what appeared to be the back of a tourist ice cream shop. Hawkeye’s bulky jacket hit the floor then his paisley shirt was tossed over the back of a chair that used to be sand colored but appeared to have been recently stained with globs of red. His back hit the ground as he fiddled with the window unit and Sonja set to toeing along the perimeter of their quarters.

She came across the outlet first sitting adjacent to the Ethernet cable in the far right corner. After depositing the backpack for him to fiddle with later on, she peeled off her overcoat and tank top while she stuck her head into the bathroom to check on the water situation. What trickled from the sink was lukewarm at coldest and the pressure in the shower was laughable but at least the toilet flushed and air freshener hung from the doorknob. Its orange tree shape was swinging in the next moment as blessed air filled the cramped space.

Sonja emerged from the bathroom with her sports bra held away from her damp skin. “Guess you are useful.”

“Do me a favor and check the freezer.” He toed off his boots as he walked, adding more of his shit to the mess that made her fingers twitch to clean only slightly.

“Think they left us frozen dinners? Because you’re health nut bars are not going to cut it Hawk.”

“I’ll order pizza for us,” he called with a wink as he tapped away on the booting up monster of a laptop.

She grumbled her response and pried open the rusted closed freezer doors that concealed an inside that somehow felt hotter than the oven of a city. Two metal cases rested inside, one smaller and snugly sitting atop

“You know how to defuse bombs right?” she called, eyes tracing the otherwise empty white cubicle for any wire or trigger.

“That’s a no. They’re presents from Fury.”

She did not move to take his word for it but instead carefully shifted the boxes sideways while sliding her hand where they sat in case it was weight sensitive. When she felt only the sleek, flat bottom, she cautiously picked up the bottom box from either edge with just the tips of her fingers and walked it as far away from Hawkeye as she could manage.

“For Christ’s sake, Z. I special requested those. Look, the code is 1971 on the bigger one and all zeroes on the other because I’m brilliant. If those don’t work then you can pull out your bomb squad suit.” He strode over, task forgotten, and squatted beside her kneeling form. “I’m not sure whether I’m offended you don’t trust me or flattered you’re trying to keep my out of harm's way.”

She flinched when he keyed in the numbers and passed her the first case carelessly before punching in his own and flipping the lid up to reveal and brand-spanking-new carbon fiber and purple streaked bow.

“Stealthy.” Sonja pulled out her own sleek new dagger set. Four blades so sharp just the skimming of her fingers drew their first blood. “Gorgeous.”

“I’m going to assume both of those were for me. Look, since I slept earlier, you take this round and I’ll wake you when night says it's time to move.”

When she made no move to do as such, he groaned and jutted out his hand. “Clint,” he said.

“What,” she snapped.

“That’s my name. Clint Barton. 1971 is the year I was born.”

“Is this supposed to make me trust you?”

“What? You want my social security number? Passport? Birth certificate? To be honest, I have so many of those I probably couldn’t pinpoint the original for you.”

She glanced down to hide the smiled curving up her lips and tucked a single dagger into her calf high sock. After refolding the hem of her khaki shorts, she felt composed enough to meet his impatient blue eyes. His smile was quick and brilliant and caught her so off guard she returned it, still vulnerable from the previous moments.

“There she is. Listen miss bomb technician, that why they call you zero? Because of the countdown? Anyway, if you don’t sleep you risk both our asses tonight and I happen to have a fine ass. As a gentleman I have not checked yours out but I am willing to bet that it’s at least half as good as mine.”

“If I go to sleep will you shut up?”

He touched his scarred knuckles against her cheek and lugged his new toys over to the ancient ones where he set up shop for the next few hours. The flimsy mattress with springs poking out every few inches was tucked away between the window and the front door and Sonja barely got her coat down on it before her head crashed against her arm for her pillow and her eyes tapped out.

***

do svidaniya

Clint’s version of a gentle awakening was a kick to her foot as he passed by. Of course, her leg swept out in defense and he landed face first on the mattress beside her. Her groggy eyes blinked open at him and promptly scowled at the dumbfounded expressions holding even his usual smart ass comment at bay.

“We better be under attack,” she grumbled, failing when she attempted to remove her already asleep arm from beneath his heavy torso.

It took him an alarming number of seconds to compose an answer and she squinted through sleep crust to glare at him. His lips parted then apparently he discovered them too dry to speak because his tongue swept out and at this proximity, so close she would not even have to reach to strangle him, the smell of his lingering bubblegum toothpaste pulled her fully into reality.

The same abrupt force that stilled him froze her from shoving him off the bed. She blamed the dreams still singing to her but the more likely cause was his hand which had by the damnation of some god landed on the dip of her waist, not her ass or her breast, which would be far simpler to explain the skip in her chest.

His recovery was like watching a runner recover from a particularly nasty hurdle “Afraid your mafia is running a little behind schedule, so we have to go out and meet them. Gear up.”

He grunted when her knee sent him rolling to the floor next.

“What time is it, Hawk?”

“2100. Think you bruised my bladder.”

Her change of clothes were swept up and the bathroom door slammed between them and the meager form of water she coaxed from the sink drowned out the breath she heaved from her lungs. The woman staring back at her was faded and spotted where the mirror was tarnished from the years without maintenance.

There was scarcely enough time to worry about saving her own skin let alone playing guess that hormone with an archer she met two days ago. A quick coaching session of her emotions and the addition of a black beanie, matching under armor shirt, and a lightweight bullet proof vest she emerged, undoing the button to her shorts after regretfully noticing the absence of the last bit of her uniform.

Clint lounged in front of the air unit in identical gear, hands folded across his pulled in knees so that the muscles fought against the fabric of his shirt. “Didn’t know pants were optional,” he called as she neatly folded her shorts beside their supply bag and produced the cargo pants that would be hiding her weapons for the evening. “I did appreciate that silky number you wore for me on our first mission,” he continued.

A belt secured the bottoms and after shoving her feet into the boots she stomped one down dangerously close to his most vulnerable bits and offered a sweet smile down at him.

“Think the world has one too many eunuchs as it is. Next time you want me to tie your laces try a nice ‘Clinton, would you be a dear and tie my fucking shoes?’”

“Don’t I feel like Cinderella?”

Deft fingers made quick work of her laces and she was still admiring the knots she could not even begin worrying about how to undo when he stood and shouldered his bow.

“Let’s go catch a spider, Z.”

“Let’s take down the Samarian crew as well while we’re at it.”

The night was their friend, lending its heaviest cloud cover from the stars that dared shine from the moonless sky as they jogged through the still bustling city’s alleys.

They passed a meat truck making a last minute delivery and Clint offered the driver the nod of his head before prodding Sonja’s body to pick up the speed as if they were out for a jog instead of on the tracks of the most dangerous woman on any side of the world. She shifted out of his reach, none too content on having her mind replay its earlier clash with emotions for the rest of the mission.

The building where Clint’s found surveillance footage last picked up her image was tucked between the river and the last wall of structures. A fishing shack where Sonja doubted the lights from the horn riddled bridge now stretching over their heads could penetrate if a paid professional like herself were taking shelter there.

Rounding the last bend on the downward slanting street, Clint caught her belt loop and pulled her against the crumbling brick building that smelled like moss and moldy bread. She bent her knees to keep from slipping down the slope on the loose cobblestones beneath their feet and still managed to subtly maneuver further from him because his aftershave was making repeating the plan like a mantra in her head a thing for the birds.

“Hey, you with me, Zero? You remember what we talked about?”

“Not dying or the not fucking up part?”

“See, I knew you weren’t listening to me.”

“Relax, Hawk. I’ve been doing this since I was toddling.”

“Really? Diapers for me.”

She swatted his arm when his blue eyes danced with humor and closed her own to reel herself back in.

“Seriously, though, you up for this? Because I can go in alone…”

“Like, hell, Hawk. You’re long range, I distract. Stick to it.”

He held out his knuckles wrapped in fingerless gloves that would help his aim. With a laugh disguised as a groan, she knocked hers against his and watched as he began scaling the fire escape to the tops of the connected houses leading to the perfect vantage point.

It took the coaxing of the restless waves to remind her that she too did not have the fortune of sitting still and allowing her already spiraling life to make Budapest its final resting place.

The traps took precious time to pick out--a motion detector from the front porch, a snoring dog with paws running in the air when she slipped around to the side, an electrical ward along the single sealed window, and finally a good old fashioned set of cans on the roof she managed to climb on. Sonja crouched on the narrow ledge of the none-too-secure roofing tiles, still off balance from her misjudged landing.

The cans, a mix of unopened green peas for which Sonja could not blame her and chili whose lids appeared to have been ripped off by bare hands, were stacks to at least twice her height and made a perfect circle around what she had to assume was another vulnerable entrance. From her original distance of spotting from the bridge with Clint, it had appeared merely another level of the shack which she could scale but now was proving to be just a pain in her ass. She circled on feet quieter than death to the side where Clint could see her and held out her hands helplessly.

“No in?” He said over the ear piece.

A shake of her head was the answer she knew his strapped on night goggles could pick up.

“Alright, hold on.”

“Clint!” she hissed out as an idea struck.

“Hell of a time to break out the Christian name.”

“Knock out the electricity on window.”

“I know you remember how these sonic arrows work. Our communication will be cut off and I know you’ll miss this sweet watchful voice, Z.”

“Sonja,” she whispered, hunching down on her knees and throwing a finger down as if he did not know the window she intended.

“No, sonic.”

“That’s my name you moron. You’ve got to trust me. Just shoot it.”

There was that hesitation from him again, she was beginning to understand how his head worked. The job was simple, something he was trained beyond reason for, but she was a variable he had to carefully calculate into the equation.

“Alright. I’m right behind you.”

“I know. Just don’t miss.”

She heard the smile in his response, “I find your lack of faith disturbing.”

“Are we really resorting to quoting Star Wars right now?”

“Fire in the hole, Sonja.”

The arrow struck home with a muted thwack and Sonja slid down onto the windowsill throwing a thumbs up into the now unresponsive night as she jimmied her dagger around to unlock the window. A second blade joined her free hand when she ducked inside.

The first thing she noticed was the complete lack of interior decoration just like their own safe house and the second unfortunately was that the insides were also void of any inhabitants. Why so much security without anything to protect?

There was a knock at the front door and a moment later Sonja remembered the power surge would also have affected the motion detector. She wearily trudged over before sliding into a defensive position when she flung the door back.

She saw the Black Widow first and her arrogant smirk followed by the prompting of an arrow to her skull.

“Plan B then?” Sonja called as Clint jostled their target into the room.

“I thought we agreed this was the more likely alternative,” he said. “Making it plan A.”

Sonja shrugged and pulled the handcuffs from her calf pocket before moving to snap them securely around the Widow’s ankles. The woman grunted as a green glow filled the room and a shift of her hips proved her unable of even lifting her feet.

When Sonja straightened and reached to tuck a stray strand of hair back into her braid, the woman finally spoke. “Props.” she said.

“Thanks, we’ve been practicing that last bit for hours now. I was really worried about the execution.” Clint strolled around to the front of their captive, pockets bulging with confiscated weapons.

“Not you, Barton. I knew you were on my ass for months. Her I wasn’t even looking for.”

Sonja crossed her arms. “Case. Point. What’s your real name?”

“Natasha Romanov.”

The plain reply jarred both her and her partner equally and Clint took her arm, walking her as far back into the room as he could manage before inclining his forehead to make the whisper easier hear. “She’s going to try to play a game with us. Anyone around her is instantly compromised. I need you to stay with me.”

A sharp nod answered him and his grin danced with mischief as he swung back around to stroll over to Natasha with his bow forgotten and swinging in his left hand. Sonja did not even feign relaxation but rubbed her thumbs over the sweating hilts of her daggers.

“This about the Avengers initiative? I read all about it last week,” Natasha said.

“You know it is. That’s why you let us capture you.”

“Let?” Sonja’s arms slipped from their protective frame.

Clint pushed on, feigning deafness when Sonja knew good and well his hearing aids were in. “You’ve got a nasty ledger and S.H.I.E.L.D. only wants to help you rectify it through the Avengers.”

“Avengers?” Sonja questioned.

“I’m fine where I am,” Natasha retorted giving the glowing shackles weighing down her feet a good tug and only ending up on her knees which, despite the powerless position, she somehow conveyed was right where she wanted to be.

Clint sighed and dropped as well. “You’re fine painting every city you go to with blood for people you don’t even know? The Avengers are going to protect the world and we want you to be a part of that.”

“Cute speech. Did Sonja feed it to you? You’re not bright enough to try the emotion ploy.”

Sonja was too busy puzzling how she knew her name to reply. That’s when the first bullet cut through the air and buried itself clean in Clint’s left calf. When he keeled forward in pain, Natasha swiped the gun tucked into the back of his belt and began firing to cover all their asses.

Lurching forward, Sonja kicked the door shut and pried her pistol from her belt as her back smacked against the wall. “Clint!” she called when he finally lifted himself from the ground.

“You led the Samarians here!” Natasha shouted as bullets pelted the door and walls relentlessly.

“Whoops,” Clint managed.

“Damn right you’re gonna need my help with the Avengers if you can’t even manage to stay off their radar. I assume you at least had an escape route in place.”

Clint wiped his bloody hand off on his shirt and primed an arrow for release should their defenses be breached by the crew. “Boat out back.”

“You’re gonna have to uncuff me.” Natasha called, firing precisely through an already fragile portion of the wall to produce a thunk of dead weight only a few yard away.

The deadly accuracy made Clint hesitate as he added in yet another variable, but Sonja just tossed the keys without a word and returned to keeping her gun aimed at the door.

“Barton go first and we’ll cover you,” Natasha called as she dodged a bullet cutting entirely too close to her brain. When she sat up straight again a line of red across her forehead added to her already flaming hair and scarlet pjs look.

Clint’s gaze snapped to Sonja unwavering in its unspoken question: would she be ok alone?

“Get out of here, Hawkeye,” she added the last bit to help him depersonalize, to remind him this was just a mission and all lives involved were expendable. “I’m right behind you,” she continued when he did not move.

His mouth curved up as he heaved himself onto mostly steady feet and sprinted to the backdoor while Sonja and Natasha laid down cover fire until both were down a clip. “Together?” Natasha called.

“Hell, why not?”

Sonja leapt up first, followed shortly by the much faster woman. The night air was thick with humidity that only pooled more sweat on their skin. On the free side of the house, a man screamed as the now awakened guard dog set to work. The other side was occluded by the closely stacks buildings and on the water just ahead, Clint revved the waiting engine of the speed boat.

Natasha waded into the water and slung her leg over the side, hauling herself on board in one fluid motion. Sonja had time to see her eyes go wide before she heard the other female voice cut through the night, “Chief!”

A sword was leveled at her instead of a gun and Sonja had the absolute pleasure of facing her old boss when she turned around. “Ma’am,” she replied without a trace of emotion.

She heard the cock of Natasha’s gun along with the wiry draw of Clint’s bow and briefly wondered if he could even keep his hands steady at the moment due to the blood loss.

“Or is it Agent Zero now?”

“Whatever you prefer, Ma’am.”

“Shall we settle this like the duals of old or has all your honor gone through the window with the american?”

Sonja heard Natasha grumble about being ignored as she tucked her gun into her pocket and produced a dagger. The other hand reached for her back pocket slower all the while keeping her opponent's gaze fixed on her words. Ma’am’s bulky henchmen fanned out behind her patiently waiting to be allowed to have some fun with the traitor and spy.

“What can I say? He brought presents.”

She waited the appropriate ten seconds for the meaning behind her words to smash into Clint before she pulled the pin. The homemade grenade sailed from her hand while her body was flung in the other direction. Her side slammed into the boat and Natasha just managed to get a drip on her belt before Clint slammed the throttle into its highest gear. He was ducked on the floor by the steering console for safety just as Natasha had thrown herself beneath the low walls at Clint’s advisement.

“When did you even have time to make that?” he demanded, driving blindly down the wide river.

“You’re the one who apparently knows everything,” she snapped.

“Christ, I’m sorry, alright. You weren’t cleared to know.” He paused then turned to her while Natasha huffed and took over driving. “Zero failed missions?”

“Guess again.”

“Zero like you were the original?”

“You’re not cleared, asshole.”

***

Natasha made airports her bitch with the new fresh faced S.H.I.E.L.D recruits scurrying behind her toting her luggage and a flight attendant rushing to retrieve her properly iced water. She shot Sonja a lazy wink but the other woman was too busy scowling away any potential disturbances to do anything other than reshoulder her backpack.

Clint took the lead, his reputation sending the herd of freshmen scattering in his wake of glory. Sonja quickened her steps, determined to talk to him now that the paramedics aboard their evac copter were no longer shooting him full of drugs.

“You’re not careless,” she said once she matched long legs to his abrupt stride.

“Think Nat will make them carry her?” he mused, wincing when he stopped focusing on his uneven gait.

Sonja caught under his arm and he glanced over through sleep deprived blue eyes and the tangles his cropped hair had somehow managed to tie itself into. “You gonna make me carry you?” she countered.

“I’ve got it.”

The usual airport crowd of proud mothers, blubbering fathers, and excitable kids ready to go off and make lives for themselves meandered past them. Sonja wondered what life awaited her back at S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters.

“I was born there, you know. S.H.I.E.L.D that is. Born and raised. I don’t exist to our government because S.H.I.E.L.D doesn’t. I’m nothing, I’m just zero.”

“I let the Samarians follow us,” he admitted in the breath after she finished her confession.

“I know. You’re not careless. You needed a common enemy for us to get Romanov on our side.”

“I was going to apologize for ruining your original mission, but I think all of earth takes precedence. We wouldn’t have made it out of there if not for you.”

“Taking out Ma’am was my mission Clint. Yesterday was the first time I saw her in person. I spent years working my way up through the ranks only to figure out I would only ever be important to her when I betrayed her.”

“You’re welcome, then.” He leaned in when he sang it and she gave his face a shove away as they exited the building through sliding glass doors and reached a junction in the sidewalk where she would climb into the car that would carry her home and he would get in his rental and drive out to his next mission.

“How long has it been since you’ve been stateside?”

“Just four years. I haven’t been home since I was a teenager, though when I completed my training.”

“You don’t have to face those bastards, you know. I’ve got something involving lightning and a hammer waiting for me. Could use some backup I trust.”

“Sounds alpha level. I’ll leave you to it.”

He nodded, shifting his weight off his bad leg and closing the humming space between their bodies just enough for her to notice it was deliberate. Her hand shifted under the strap of her bag while she toed at some bits of loose gravel beneath her sneakers.

“Guess this is goodbye, then. Keep an eye on Nat for me, will you? She respects you.”

“Only because she was comparing me to you.”

His mouth pulled up in a smile she had grown all too accustomed to seeing regularly and had truthfully taken for granted now that he was leaving. The civil term of closer inspection crossed her mind as she leaned in further still followed by the embarrassing real word she had been searching for--a kiss.

She could not even recall the last time she had kissed someone without an ulterior motive. She expected him to politely return it or to laugh and tell her to collect herself, not for him to bite her lip and slide his lips between hers like the whole damn earth might spin off course if he did not. His hands were soft in her hair and his hand slid down tracing over her cheek so that his fingers replaced his lips when he reluctantly pulled away.

“Put a pin in that, Sonja?”

“You mean like when I pinned you? Or what I pulled the pin on the grenade?”

“No explosions and no more beating me up.” He punctuated his sentence with a rushed kiss to her forehead. “Unless we can twist those into kinky things.”

“Oh, it’s possible,” Natasha called as she strolled past and climbed into the waiting black SUV.

Sonja gave his chest a push and took two controlled steps backwards simply because if she didn’t there was no guarantee either of them would be setting out on their respective journeys today.

“Goodbye,” Sonja said.

With a wink that sent her spiraling higher than the pyres of Moscow’s finest cathedrals Clint Barton was gone.

#clint barton #clint barton fanfiction #clint barton smut #clint barton x reader #clint x reader #hawkeye #Avengers #avengers headcanon #avengers smut #avengers imagine #avengers drabble

[naruto--imagines]

Shikamaru x Reader [Chess]

[A/N] I do not own any of the characters present in this story, nor do I own the GIF that is featured. I do hold ownership over the story itself, please do not re-post it anywhere. Thanks! <3

He could always count on it. At lunch time, every day you would pop into his classroom and demand that he plays chess with you. This obsession had started when you were younger.

Your parents both worked long hours, and since your moms were best friends Shika’s mother gladly offered to watch you after school. Shikamaru would pick you up from your classroom and together you walked to his mom's car. Yoshino would drive back to their house and sit the two of you down to do your homework (it often ended up with Shikamaru helping you through most of your assignment).

Around half way through Yoshino always brought a snack for you guys to munch on while you worked and after, the two of you would go outside to play. Shikamaru only liked to play for a short while before he claimed that it was “too bothersome to run around”. When that happened you two usually went back inside and would spend the time coloring or playing with some of Shika’s other toys Instead.

One day, when school got out it was raining cats and dogs. Yoshino met you guys at the door to the school to walk you both to the car. Your routine followed as usual apart from going outside (you tried really hard to go out and play in the rain, but were told “no” twice by both Naras in the vicinity). After you two had finished your homework, you were laying on the floor, bored to tears. You had finished every other activity that the two of you normally did after school and you were just waiting for Shikaku to get home so that dinner could be served before you had to leave. Noticing you and Shikamaru laying on the floor, Yoshino suggested that the two of you play a board game while you wait. Accepting her suggestion, you two of you run off to go find one.

“Hopefully you don't mind too much, all we have is strategy games.” Shikamaru says digging through the games. “Let’s play checkers.” He states brandishing the box.

“Okay!” You exclaim as the two of you head back to the living room. Shikamaru briefly explains the rules to you before he lets you make the first move. You quickly lose that round. So, you play again. And you lose again. Not deterred in the least, you play for a third time! And you lose a third time.

It's at this point where Shikaku walks into the room, now home from work, and sees the two of you playing. Specifically, with Shikamaru looking bored at the game and you with a small pout on your face. Shikaku laughs at the scene before walking over to ruffle your hair and ask how the game’s going. Shikamaru quickly tells him that you are improving and managed to last longer this time than your previous two attempts.

“Why don't you two go wash up so we can eat?” Shikaku asks before the two of you quickly put the game away and rum off to do as you're told. And that's how it all started. From that day forward you challenged Shikamaru to checkers after the two of you finished your homework and you would play until it was time to eat. Your love for strategy games only grew from there. One weekend, when an emergency popped up at the office, your parents dropped you off at the Nara house to spend the day with them. Upon entering the living room with Yoshino, you see Shikamaru and Shikaku playing a new game.

“This is chess,” Shikaku briefly explains to you. “The goal is to capture your opponent's King. Unlike checkers, you have multiple pieces that move in many ways.” Just from the explanation you decided this game was too hard for you. Instead, you chose to sit by Shikamaru's side and watch. After several hours and multiple game later you decided that you wanted to learn how to play.

You sat across from Shikamaru, with Shikaku sitting behind you offering you some direction as you began to stumble through a game (which you inevitably lost). And just like that, you were hooked. Desperate to play against your friend until you won.

You checkers routine was over and now taken over by chess. Every day you would get home from class, do your homework, then play chess. This routine followed you as you left elementary school, it continued through middle school, and even persists now in high school. After all the years of playing, you’re good enough to defeat other chess players but you still lack the skill to defeat Shikamaru. So here you stood now.

“Come on Shika, we can get a quick round in before lunch is over.” You plead standing by his desk.

“Woman, you're so bothersome.” He says holding his head up in his hand with his eyes closed. Choji sat next to him with a smile on his face watching the two of you interact. You placed a lunch on his desk before you turn around and grab another desk, pushing it up against his to begin playing.

You have become used to making two lunches every morning, since you got to high school you had to find a way to keep Shikamaru invested in your game. You bet every day that the loser had to bring the winner a lunch the next day.

“Same wager?” you ask as you set up your pieces. Choji scoots closer to watch you guys play a smile on his face as he munches on a bag of potato chips.

“No, let's switch it up. You need motivation to not lose.” He says as you look up from the board.

“Well, what did you have in mind?” you ask him sitting up straight.

“Loser does whatever the winner says.” Shikamaru says with a lazy smirk on his face.

“What?” you ask, knowing your past streak isn't setting you up for a promising outcome.

“That's my condition for playing right now.” He said looking into your eyes. “Otherwise, you’ll have to wait until I want to play.” Shikamaru finishes turning to look out the window instead.

“Okay, okay, fine, I agree to your terms.” You say settling in. You two begin to play, and you must say, it is one of your closer games. As your skills in chess began to grow, Shika stopped going easy on you. He began using more advanced techniques on you, and this match wasn't any different. In fact, it felt as though this round was harder than it usually is. After playing for about 30 minutes you're finally in a place where you think you'll win. A few more steps and your rook could be in the perfect position. Until one-word leaves Shikamaru’s lips and ruins your plan.

“Check.” He says looking bored as ever.

“Augh! I was so close.” You exclaim as you begin to clean up.

“Don't you say that every time?” Choji asks for. His spot beside you two.

“Shhhh!” you say to the boy pressing your pointer finger to your lip. “Okay, Shikamaru, what do you want?” You ask slightly dejectedly.

“Not sure yet.” He replies causing you to almost fall out of your seat. “But I do know that my mom wants you to come over for dinner tonight.” He replies before leaving the classroom.

Later that night you show up to the Nara house. Yoshino greets you with a hug as you enter and points to the living room where Shikaku and Shikamaru are playing a game of chess. You sit down next to Shikamaru watching him play against his father. You watch the two of them play for some time before ending with Shikamaru’s defeat.

        “Ah man, what a drag,” Shika cries before rubbing the back of his neck. You laughed at the teen sitting next to you. The three of you get up from your seats on the ground and move to the table as Yoshino announces that dinner is ready. As the four of you all sat down Yoshino began asking you all sorts of questions. How school was going? How your extracurriculars were. If anything new had come up in your life, like

“Are you dating anyone.” She asked innocently (even though her questions were rarely without a hidden agenda). That question made you blush.

        “What? No no, nothing like that.” You explain to the parents sitting across from you. Yoshino and Shikaku became second parents for you (practically raising you) and you could tell each of their thoughts on you dating. Yoshino was excited to talk about relationships while Shikaku took on the protective role. And Shikamaru slapped his hand to his forehead at his parent’s interrogation.

        By the end of dinner you could tell Shikamaru was ready to be away from his parents. You both quickly finished your food and put your dishes away before escaping to his room. Shikamaru laid out on his bed while you grabbed the chess board and began to set it up before you heard a groan from behind you.

        “Knock it off, I’ve played enough today.” Shikamaru said as he gestured for you to put it away. Looking at you with his head propped in his hand. You put it away (a bit dejectedly) and sat on the floor beside his bed looking up at him. It wasn’t often that you could get him to talk to you endlessly, but the times that you did always made you smile. This was one of those times. The two of you shared a few laughs and exchanged smiles here and there before Shika lets out a yawn. You smile at him before you stand up and stretch your arms over your head letting out a small groan.

        “I suppose I should head home before it gets too late.” You say getting ready to walk out after saying goodbye to Shika.

        “Hang on, you still owe me something.”  He said before you could get too far.

        “Did you decide on what you want?” You ask taking a step towards him. Shikamaru doesn’t say anything, just reaches out and grabs your wrist and waist then pulls you down on to the bed next to him. You left out a slight “oof” at the impact. Resting your hand against his side  you look up to him.

        “Is this what you wanted for winning?”

        “Not exactly.” He says looking down at you with a smile on his face. “Go out with me.”

        “That’s what you want?” You ask with a slight laugh. “You know, you didn’t have to make a bet to ask me that.” You tell him.

        “You’re so bothersome. Why can’t you just accept that I’m asking you out and not be such a pain about it?” He asks you, pulling you in closer and resting his chin against your head attempting to hide his blush.

       “Sure Shika, I’d love to go out with you.” You tell him wrapping your arm around him and turning your face into his chest.

#Shikamaru #shikamaru x reader #naruto imagine #m/m #m/f #gender neutral #reader insert #imagine

[serendipitykpop]

difficult level

Pairing: xiao dejun x reader

Summary: “Let’s beat this level together!”

“Come on. Come on. Just a little more, and I. Can. WIN! I WON! WOOHOO! I WON, LET’S GOOO!”

You threw your phone down onto the floor, not really caring for the state of a possibly broken phone. After all, winning that level was the most important thing to you right now. You could worry about it later after you celebrate your win.

You threw you arms up into the air, and almost burst into happy tears because you had finally beat the difficult level on your game. You had been stuck on it for months, and were really close to giving up on trying altogether. You would tell yourself just one more attempt before quitting, but that didn’t happen. Instead, you kept playing until you reached the state you were currently in. You had spent a lot of time, and effort into beating the level that you were just so joyful.

Too immersed in your victory, you weren’t aware of the fact that your excitement had gave your precious boyfriend a fright. At the same time you had let out a piercing screech of victory, he screamed, and almost dropped his own phone.

He slowly turned to you with a pout, and frown as you awkwardly laughed. Your arms fell down to your side, and you gave him a small smile. You rubbed the back of your neck, feeling guilty for doing that to him when he was trying to relax, and had his own level to worry about too.

The two of you decided to have a lazy day, and opted to playing games while still spending time together. You both were lying on your stomach with your shoulders bumping against each other here, and there. because one of you got a little too into the game. Mainly you doing that though.

“Sorry, Dejun,” You mumbled, cheeks brightening into a red color. “But I have a reason for doing it.”

“Oh, yeah?” He raised an eyebrow, and you nodded.

“I finally beat the level I was stuck on for ages!”

From the adorable, proud smile you had on your face, and the happiness radiating from you, he couldn’t be mad at you anymore. He just wanted to squish your cheeks, and shower you with kisses.

“Yay, victory for Y/N!”

“Yay!” The two of you burst into a fit of giggles.

“Let me see your scores. I want to see if you beat mine, or not.” He pushed himself to a sitting position, and crossed his legs. He patted his lap, and you crawled on top, slouching against his chest with your phone in hand. He rested his chin on top of your head, and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“You played this?” You turned your head to look up at him.

“Yeah. I beat the whole thing a long time ago.”

“Well. Look at you, Mr. I can do everything because I’m Xiao Dejun,” You teased,and poked your tongue out at him. He whined, and hugged you tighter into him. He moved his head to hide his face in your hair, his cheeks turning hot.

“Shut up.”

You giggled, then turned back around.

“You’re so cute.”

He let out another whine in protest.

“But Dejun.”

“Mm?”

“You beat the whole game, and didn’t tell your adorable, sweet, and loving partner? How rude! I could’ve gotten cheats to help me, and I wouldn’t have had to rage on for days!”

This time it was him giggling while you whined. He innocently smiled, and shrugged.

“Oops?”

You shook your head in disapproval. Then, you pulled up the game, and the familiar annoying tune sounded the room. You clicked on the button that led you to the screen of scores, and pulled up your best score, which you achieved just now.

“See? See?”

“Ah, you beat me, but I’m still proud of you.” He beamed, happy for you as he placed a kiss on top of your head. You smiled.

“I’m proud of me too.”

Dejun chuckled, and ruffled your hair. “Since you’ve succeeded in beating my score once, do you think you can do it again?”

“Is that a challenge, Dejun?” You narrowed your eyes at him, and he smirked. Then, he shrugged.

“I don’t know. Is it?”

You snorted. “It is so on.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t get so cocky. The next level is even harder than the one you faced for the past few days.”

At that, you tensed up, and felt your soul escape your body.

“Say, what now?”

“Mhm.”

You let out a groan. “I think I may turn eighty by the time I beat this level then if it’s harder than the last!”

“Even I had trouble on this for a few days, so good luck to you,” He taunted, and pinched your nose. You really wanted to wipe that smirk off his face, but now you were even more motivated to win over him.

“I’ll beat it faster than you, and reclaim my title as the best gamer out of the two of us.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Dejun exited out of the game he was playing to switch over to yours.

“Wait. Before we start the level, what does the winner get?”

“Loser has to make dinner while the winner gets to shower them with kisses?”

“Isn’t that a win for the both of us?” You giggled, raising an eyebrow. Dejun smiled.

“Well, do you accept the terms?”

You laughed, and shook your head. “You are such a dork, but a very one. Yes, I accept your terms.”

“And you will uphold the prizes?”

“Yes, I will. Will you?”

“Of course.”

You smiled at each other.

“LET’S BEAT THIS LEVEL TOGETHER!”

“YEAH!”

Engulfed in your game, the two of you were shouting, and trying to distract one another from getting a good scare. Overall, the atmosphere around the two of you was loud, but enjoyable.

It was moments like these that you treasured most, and would never give up for the world.

#kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #wayv #nct imagines #nct dream #nct scenarios #nct #nct u #nct 127 #nct 2018 #xiao dejun #dejun #dejun scenarios #dejun imagines #xiaojun #xiaojun scenarios #xiaojun imagines

[desparikon]

Fanfic misfires feat. Murdoc

1. Murdoc/Mac (really short, but I wanted to experiment with a texting convo format)

2. Murdoc/Bozer (Bozer paints Murdoc’s nails.)

3. Murdoc/Bozer, but kinda ended up leaning toward Bozer/Murdoc/Mac (Bozer and Murdoc feeding off each other’s chaotic energy to out-drama each other.)

My heart was overjoyed when I saw that notification Knowing that you missed me so much that you had to text me... 🖤 I knew you wouldn't be able to stay away

💘 How can I not think about you? We're inseparable now But do we have to be doomed to fight until separated by 💀 ?

Is it terrifying to know that it'll be yours? By my hand?

I don't believe that you want me dead

Whether or not you want to believe it, even though it physically hurts me to say it I'll be the death of you

You say that to hide what you really want 😏 😏 😏 😏 😏 😏 You're lonely, I'm lonely... 💔

Talking with you only makes me miss you more, sets my heart 🔥 Maybe I'll come visit you, I'm not far...

Only if you promise to be gentle

Through pain comes pleasure, and you've teased for far too long Surely you know that the longer you deny yourself, the more pleasure you gain

🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 What're you gonna do? Sneak into my room and stab me??? 😏 😏 😏 😏  🍆

"Oh fuck." Mac flattened himself against the edge of the kitchen counter, wide eyes staring down at his phone.

"What?" Bozer grabbed his phone after receiving no answer. And struggled to contain his laughter once he saw what Mac had been texting to Murdoc. "Mac, what the Hell!"

"I--The phone did that!"

"Twenty bucks says he'll be here in ten minutes."

"M-Maybe he didn't notice it. Y'know what? It's fine. I don't think he's actually nearby. ...Fuck."

"I mean, yeah, what'd you expect? Flirting with Murdoc like that."

"It wasn't flirting! It was banter!"

"What's the difference?"

The doorbell rang, sending Mac into a panic, while Bozer sweetly called out, "Who is it??"

"Boz, stop!" Mac harshly whispered, grabbing Bozer's arm to prevent him from opening the door.

"Mac, let go! Someone's at the door!"

"Doesn't mean you have to answer it!"

The doorbell rang again. "Coming!"

—————————————————————————

"What're you doing?" Bozer felt like he was babysitting, the quiet clinking of glass tipping him off that Murdoc was probably getting into something he shouldn't.

The clinking abruptly stopped. "Nothing!"

"Are you going through my stuff again?" He recapped his marker, and turned around to find Murdoc rummaging through one of his drawers of art supplies along the garage wall. "Hey!" He walked over to shoo Murdoc away, but his annoyance turned to surprise once he saw what Murdoc was holding. "You're going to paint your nails?"

"Once I decide what color." He showed Bozer the violet nail polish he was holding. "I like this one, but do you have anything sparkly?"

"I think." Bozer searched and handed him the sparkly colors. He'd only found four, but he hoped one of them would be acceptable. All he wanted now was to see Murdoc with painted nails.

"Oh, I like this one!" Murdoc held the bottle up to get more light. It looked like plain black with sparkle flecks, but the light revealed the rainbow holographic effect. "It's like a space rainbow trapped in a bottle." He put the others back in the drawer, and sat in Bozer's chair at the table.

"Hang on a sec!" Bozer grabbed the bottles out of Murdoc's hand on his way to sit across the table. "I'll paint your nails."

Murdoc leaned forward, and attempted to steal them back, but Bozer held them out of reach. "Why? You're already busy." Bozer slid his project to the other end of the table before Murdoc's hand could make contact.

Definitely not because he'd love to use Murdoc as a live canvas for future projects...

And definitely not because he simply enjoyed touching Murdoc.

"Because. It's mine and I said so."

"But then I won't be able to present my hand to you so you can compliment it," Murdoc whined.

"Do that to Mac when he gets here."

Murdoc laid his hands on the table. "I guess that's a fair trade. Can't really say no to being pampered."

Bozer adjusted Murdoc's hands on the table until he found a placement where he could be comfortable and hopefully have the best angle for lighting. He shook the bottle of violet nail polish, deciding that the lighter color would show fewer mistakes than the black, and he needed all the help he could get until he got back into practice.

"Does it matter which hand?"

"Left."

"OK, just...hold still and let me do this."

He concentrated on making three brush strokes per nail, vaguely remembering that he'd heard that somewhere. The first stripe he made down the center of Murdoc's nail was mostly straight. But the two side strokes bled onto the skin.

"My hand just has to remember how to do this," he quickly reassured Murdoc (and himself).

Less polish on the brush for the next nail.

And now he'd left see-through spots that'd need another coat. While still getting nail polish onto the surrounding skin.

By the time he'd completely finished Murdoc's first hand, Bozer was frustrated with himself and his messy paint job. He inwardly sighed, preparing himself for Murdoc's snarky comments.

"One hand done. Do you like it?"

"I do! You did such a good job, I feel so spoiled."

A small smile spread on Bozer's face, Murdoc's compliment easing his frustration. He absently ran his finger down a couple of Murdoc's. "It's not perfect, but I think I can get some of the extra off. I'll look it up later."

"It doesn't have to be perfect. I just like having the color on my nails."

Why Murdoc was being so nice, he didn't know, but he'd take it.

At least the black hid the brush strokes, and easily covered in one coat. Though, it was more obvious when the polish ended up on Murdoc's skin, but he was too distracted by the holographic effect.

"It’s definitely eyecatching. Too bad you wear gloves all the time, huh?"

"Only when I'm working. But I'll still enjoy knowing it's there." Murdoc fluttered his fingers, smirking as Bozer watched the rainbow. "Jealous?"

"Kinda."

"...Do you want me to paint your nails?"

"Yes!"

—————————————————————————

"Touch the baby again, and I'm pressing charges!" Bozer slapped Murdoc's hand away as he spun around to prevent him from getting his new prop.

"Who decided that you get full custody of our child?"

"I did! I'm judge, jury, and executioner all in one!"

"I can't visit even once?"

"Well... Yeah, it's OK, I guess." He turned back around, and held the baby up so Murdoc could get a good look.

"The fu...?"

Bozer had bought it when the Halloween stores were running clearance, and they'd since dubbed it the Zombie Vampire baby. It looked like a zombie, with its greenish-gray skin, and evil, cloudy red eyes, but that didn't explain the fangs hanging off each side of its mouth, and the long, pointy nails.

Mac stifled his laughter at Murdoc's surprise. He admired Bozer for being able to keep a straight face.

"Do you like it? It definitely takes after you."

Murdoc quickly recovered, a grin spreading across his face. "Mmhm. Wow, yeah, I see."

Mac immediately recognized the syrup-sweet voice that Murdoc reserved exclusively for shit-starting. They were in for it now; Bozer had effectively challenged Murdoc for the title of Most Dramatic, and Murdoc is not one to be easily out-drama-ed.

Murdoc clapped his hands together, and stared at Bozer with wide, eager eyes. "So when's the exorcism?"

Bozer pulled the baby back and glared. "How dare you talk about our child like that!" He hugged it tightly, whispering, "Did you hear that? Daddy Murdoc doesn't love you."

Mac groaned as he started down the stairs to go inside. "'Daddy Murdoc'?! I'm out."

"Your bad attitude made Mac leave!"

"Me? I just wanted to know if you plan on waking up tomorrow morning."

"Are you threatening me?"

"I’m not.”

Mac hurried to the fridge and grabbed a few sodas. Bozer and Murdoc feeding off each other's chaotic energy was a special form of entertainment. They could rapidly get out of hand, and he hated to miss a second of it.

When he stepped back out onto the deck, he could feel the dramatic mood change. And he'd hadn't even been gone for a whole minute. Bozer stood at the railing, glaring daggers into Murdoc's back. Murdoc stared at the ground like it was most interesting thing in the world.

Dammit. He'd missed something good.

"How's the happy couple?" He dumped the sodas on the nearby table, eager to hear what ridiculous stunt Murdoc had pulled in his absence.

"Fine." Murdoc glanced at him and smiled, looking guilty as Hell.

"I want a divorce!"

"We're getting divorced. Irreconcilable differences."

"Irreconcilable differences?! You threw our baby off the balcony!"

"It's not my fault that thing decided to propel itself over the railing, and into the distance, never to be seen again!"

Murdoc gasped as Mac burst out laughing. "Angus! How dare you laugh at our broken marriage!" He flopped into the nearest chair, and sniffled, "Rude."

Bozer smirked before walking over, and putting his hand on the chair's arm, over Murdoc's. "What if I want to save our marriage? You'll help me, right?"

"Anything for you, darling."

"I was hoping you'd say that. See, I was thinking that there's two options that could save us."

"Oh?"

"The first choice is giving me snacks."

Murdoc rolled his eyes. "So you're too lazy to go into the kitchen. Fine."

"It has to be something you brought."

"You know I don't carry around food."

"But everything tastes better when you bring it."

"I'm a guest in your house. You should be giving me food, not the other way around."

"Alright, alright. Want to hear your other option? I really think you'll like it."

"I'm sure."

"We make this a party." Bozer pushed Murdoc's coat off his shoulders. "We all know what's coming later." He ran his hands down Murdoc's sides, and rested them on his hips. "Why don't you save us the trouble, and just take it all off now?"

"Yesssss!" Mac leaned over the back of Murdoc's chair.

Murdoc snorted. "I feel like these choices are just a little...unbalanced."

"But this one's your only choice, isn't it? Since you just admitted that you don't have any food."

"So that's it then? Bring snacks or strip?"

"Are you getting shy all of the sudden? Or do you just need some help?" Mac pulled the bottom of Murdoc's shirt up so Bozer could run his hand over Murdoc's bare skin.

"OK. OK! I'll give you what you want." He pulled his coat off, and into his lap so he could bury a hand into one of the deep pockets. He pulled out a large ziploc bag of candy, and presented it to Bozer.

Bozer's eyes lit up as he grabbed the bag. "Divorce is off!" He pulled a couple pieces out of the bag before handing it to Mac, happy to share the bounty. "But your clothes will be coming off later."

"Hey, a lot of these have Halloween wrappers... Did you take Cassian trick-or-treating, then steal his candy?"

Murdoc shot him an offended glare. "Of course not! I traded him out of my secret candy stash for the candy he didn't like. And since I don't like any of those either, I thought maybe you two would like them. See how my kindness was rudely taken advantage of?"

"I've never seen your candy stash any of the times I've been in your house."

"That's why it's a secret."

"You don't have a secret candy stash. You bought candy specifically to trade with Cassian!"

"I did not."

"You totally did!"

"No. It's just--It sucks when you hate some of the most popular candies, and--"

"That's adorable!!" Bozer threw himself into Murdoc's lap and wrapped his arms around him, while Mac hugged Murdoc around his shoulders and rubbed his face against Murdoc's cheek.

"So cute!"

"Ewwwww, feelings."

#macgyver #mine

[m42-fr]

Some Breed Headcanons

Just a couple of breed headcanons I use in my AU. Some of the headcanons are mine, and some come from other users! Some of this may be actual canon that I’ve thrown in my notes to remember, but am too lazy to double-check. ‘Read More’ added because it is looooong.

BOGSNEAKS - Bogsneaks have some of the most dominant genes of all dragons. Were a Bogsneak to mate with a member of a different breed, the hatchling would almost certainly have dominant Bogsneak traits, especially the crests. - Bogsneaks can’t change the muscles at the base of their fins, but they can style their crests by trimming them, using molds to make them grow a certain way while young, and by heat treating them, among other things. In modern day [Deadlock AU], synthetic fins were all the rage for a long while and are still popular in places with the proper technology. - Bogsneaks can smell with their tongues. Their sense of smell using only their nostrils is rather weak. - Bogsneaks have an inflatable sac on their throat, which they can use to make loud noises like frogs. The screeching can sound like anything between a squeaky door and a deflating balloon.

COATLS - [Deadlock AU] Coatls once had a native tongue, but years of genetic modification have created two variants: Old Coatls and New Coatls. Old Coatls have the ear structure of their ancestors, and lack the ability to clearly discern common Draconic. They speak the native Coatl language almost innately, and struggle to understand others. New Coatls are more common, and have been modified to have an ear structure like that of other dragon breeds, allowing for easy communication. Old Coatls and New Coatls do not tend to get along well and have a difficult time understanding one another. New Coatls have extreme difficulty learning the Old Coatl tongue.

FAES - Faes are the only breed who can hover mid-air, fly backwards, and fly upside down. Their large wings allow them to glide as well as hover.

IMPERIALS - Imperial biology is incredibly active, leading to its inherent instability. This state of life allows them to heal very quickly and live for incredibly long periods of time, but it also renders them the most vulnerable to cancers and other deadly mutations and genetic disorders. This is the same reason they form Emperors. Multiple severely injured Imperials, or even clinically dead Imperials, may still have some living tissue that attempts to heal itself by stitching to other living Imperial tissue. This makes Imperials the only breed who can be administered full-on limb transfusions.

MIRRORS - Mirror crests are typically rigid, though muscles at their base allow them to be flared out or pulled in to express emotion and signal to other members of the pack. One of the first signs of ill health are floppy crests, as the cartilage supporting them loses its strength and flops downwards. Floppy cartilage is also a common birth defect. - Mirrors are the most endurant of any dragon breed, capable of running for hours on end. They have a stunningly high metabolism to fuel this, and must consume the most food per pound of their body in comparison to any other breed. - Mirrors prefer to travel and hunt in groups with their own kind. A group of Mirrors is called a pack or a horde depending on the social structure. Hordes are the most common and consist of a motley group of individuals with no real leader. Packs have a defined leader or leading group who keeps the rest of the pack at bay and directs them. - Mirrors are one of the least talkative breeds, and they often find excessive talking to be a nuisance. They communicate primarily with body language and sound. The noises they can make range between hyena-like cackling and whooping to high-pitched screeches and howls. In modern day, they have a habit of inventing hunting languages that rely on hand signals and sounds to communicate things like, “Prey is going that way!” and, “Fall back!” - Mirrors consider a mouth of bared teeth a challenge, though others call it a smile. A friendly Mirror smile looks more like a smirk. - Young Mirrors are called pups. - Mirrors are surprisingly good diggers. They bury anything they want: food, camps, noisy neighbors, and even themselves if they really want to sleep in. - Mirror’s stomachs are churning cauldrons of pestilence, and they are capable of eating just about anything they set their eyes upon. Their vomit is considered an incredible biohazard and can often infect those it falls upon, and, in rare cases, give them acidic burns. - Mirrors can use their tails as whips. [Deadlock AU] Modern weapons utilizing this technique often involve some sort of stinger, sticky object, or even a downright taser strapped to a string that’s then secured around the tail, so Mirrors can whip their tails and strike prey at a distance to disable it or bring it closer. - Mirrors breathe primarily through the gills behind their arms, allowing them to breathe even while neck-deep in prey. As they have no nostrils, they can otherwise breathe primarily through their mouths. Many Mirrors have custom-tailored apparel to allow the gills some room to breathe. The entry point of the gills are a series of small holes just above the collarbone, which act as nostrils. - Mirrors cackle and whoop like hyenas when excited and happy. - Mirrors regenerate teeth throughout their lives, like sharks. It is not uncommon for them to lose teeth when biting into something, and a Mirror with multiple missing teeth is somebody who has recently survived a number of fights. Sometimes, they break off in soft foods for no real reason. It’s quite obnoxious.

PEARLCATCHERS - Newly-hatched Pearlcatchers, called cubs, have separated jaws like snakes, which allows them to comfily vomit up their pearl. In adolescence, the jawbones fuse together, losing their ability to separate. However, their throat and stomach muscles remain flexible and elastic, which means that Pearlcatchers are immensely good at performing carnival tricks like sword-swallowing and eating contests. - When faced with the prospect of danger and death, Pearlcatchers begin to salivate unconsciously and generate the ‘memory nacre’ to vomit up, so they can add their last moments to their pearl. If they manage to survive the encounter, they often wind up with so much nacre in their mouth that it begins to drool, leaving a shimmering trail behind them. This is one of the reasons why Pearlcatchers are such legendary cowards - a predator could follow their tracks and hunt them down. - A group of Pearlcatchers is called a parliament. - Many Pearlcatchers pride themselves on two things: their pearls and their manes. The latter is an especially large undertaking, as they style it in all sorts of ways - dreads, braids, mohawks, and they may dye it different colors too. It is a truly egregious act to let one’s mane get dirty or messy. [Deadlock AU] In the wasteland, many Pearlcatchers prefer to shave off their mane entirely rather than let it be soiled by sand and sludge. - Pearlcatchers may have more than one pearl throughout their lifetime if they happen to be the sort with many impactful experiences or an exceedingly long lifespan. They can start a new pearl at any time using nothing but nacre as a base, and may choose to do so if their current pearl is getting too large. - Alternatively, they may choose to re-swallow their current pearl (no small feat - occasionally accomplished by breaking it into pieces), where it’s broken down into nacre and regurgitated. A part of this nacre, believed to be a mixture of all the memories of the past pearl, is used to make the new pearl. In this way, they ‘compress’ their memories. - The color that nacre solidifies in depends on the emotions the Pearlcatcher felt during the creation of the memory. The darker the new layer is, the less happy the Pearlcatcher was in the memory. Dark pearls are often considered ‘dirty’ and dishonorable, so Pearlcatchers who have recently had a bad experience will vomit the nacre up in a hidden corner and leave it to dry. Some individuals have ‘bad memory pearls’ for this explicit purpose. - They consider Tundras to be the worst of dragon breeds, because they constantly forget - forgetting is a crime to those who remember all.

RIDGEBACKS - A male Ridgeback’s snout is used for defense. It was once used for impressing females, but has since fallen out of use for its impracticality. As a protrusion of bone that never stops growing, like rodent teeth, it must be periodically filed down to prevent it from growing too long. Some Ridgebacks choose to saw it off entirely to make their lives easier. Female Ridgeback’s snouts do grow too, but not nearly as fast as male’s, making it a rare sight to see a female with a long snout. - Ridgebacks molt their spines about once every season, or four times a year. It’s an itchy and time-consuming process, and often leaves them in a bad mood. The shed spines are very hard and sharp, and are often carved into jewelry or affixed to the tips of spears. - The bases of Ridgeback’s snouts have large clusters of receptors sensitive to electricity. Though this is a little more developed in males, the receptors are located in the point extending outwards past the nostrils, which is a trait found in both sexes. This allows them to seek out electricity with relative ease, as well as partially predict weather and lightning storms. - Many Ridgebacks clip their large thumb talons so they don’t get in the way of delicate motor skills. - Ridgebacks traditionally have scratching posts, usually rocks or trees, somewhere in their lair for them to regularly file down their talons and snouts on. This is a noisy and time-consuming process, and a part of their regular grooming routine. - It is theorized that the Ridgeback’s natural aversion to water was purposefully programmed to help them avoid flash floods, for they’d seek high ground and shelter the moment the rain started falling. They most commonly have fears of drowning, and many of their nightmares center around being trapped underwater. Those hatched under the Tidelord’s influence do not have this quirk.

SPIRALS - Spirals are naturally agile, and are excellent in supporting battle positions due to their ability to dodge blows at lightning speeds. [Deadlock AU] They are the only breed capable of intentionally dodging bullets, and this has earned them a somewhat mythological reputation on the battlefield. - Spirals have the most cartilage of any breed, so their bones don’t come apart when they’re twisting around.

TUNDRAS - [Deadlock AU] As the planet’s temperatures have risen, many Tundras make a practice of periodically shaving off their coats, leaving nothing but a thin silky layer behind. Some males choose to keep their manes behind, as they’re useful in protecting the neck from the bites of predators, but such a choice is rare.

- Growth of the winter coat is triggered by prolonged low temperatures. Tundras who live in warmer climates may never see their winter coat. - Tundras tend to braid their fur to prevent it from getting tangled in knots. - Due to Tundra’s intense sense of smell, young pups often become easily distracted and follow their nose into dangerous situations. - Tundras are the closest breed to mammals. They still lay eggs, but are otherwise respectively mammalian: they grow fur, and, more importantly, they secrete milk through a series of small nipples on the torso. Tundra milk is a light ivory in color and tastes very fatty. - Some Tundras have a rapid bone growth gene that makes their canines develop into oversized fangs, like sabertooth cats. These often need to be filed down on the regular, lest they break apart with wear and tear. WILDCLAWS - Hatchlings have a habit of imprinting upon their parents, leading to strong familial bonds. Hatchlings who do not imprint on their parents often lose much of their natural instincts, such as that to duel and engage in the hierarchy. Such loners are typically regarded as outcasts, though may be allowed to live on the fringes of a clan if they prove themselves worthy. - Wildclaws tap their talons on the ground to show annoyance and to serve as a threat. - Wildclaws have invented several forms of martial arts, many of which involve kicking out the feet to slash at opponents with their talons. - Wildclaws often break off their horns and talons in the midst of battle. This is seen as a good thing, because they grow back quickly, and common myth holds that they become thicker and sharper every time they regrow. It’s a grave insult to call one, “Brittleclaw,” because it implies that they have so little battle that their horns are as flimsy as paper. - Wildclaws are the best runners, but one of the weakest fliers. Their wings are flared out for intimidation and challenge purposes, and flared wings are seen as a sign of confidence and occasionally a challenge depending on body language. - Wildclaws love to pounce on their prey. They may use their wings to prolong the glide and gain speed in the air to hit their target harder. - Wildclaw skulls are surprisingly thick, and they use this to headbutt one another during duels. The first part of a duel always consists of headbutting one another and locking horns, and fighting to get loose. (Often times, they separate by snapping one another’s horns). Once they untangle, one either backs down, ending the duel there and leaving with their life intact, or they leap back into the fray and enter a deadly dance of talons and teeth. - Wildclaws have flexible throats and stomachs, allowing them to swallow food whole. They often do this when on the run. - Wildclaws have crops, from which they can regurgitate things. - Wildclaws are excellent climbers, and they often hook their talons into gaps in rocks and bark to get a better grip. - Wildclaws can raise and lower their crest of head-feathers.

#flight rising #flight rising headcanons #headcanons #my headcanons #lore #flight rising lore #my lore #apologies for missing some of the breeds #I don't have extended headcanons for all of them! #wildclaws #tundras #spirals #ridgebacks #pearlcatchers #mirrors #imperials #faes #coatls #bogsneaks #deadlock au #deadlock

[gahye0n]

Candy Rings

pairing: siyeon / reader

word count: 1.7k

genre: angst, fluff

request: @chocolatemakeupbratzdoll asked → hi can you do a siyeon x idol reader where the reader is a billionaire and siyeon gets a lot of hate from the readers fans because the reader buys her a lot of stuff and a lot of fluff at the end please?

--

Excitement in every step, Siyeon fluttered around the room like a child with a sugar rush, never lingering in one place for too long. Bright green encompassing her face, the pixelated 'GAME OVER' written across the screen brought a pout to her lips. She turned towards you and you pressed your hands to either side of her cheeks, squishing them between your palms and wishing you could lean forward and kiss her frown away. Giggling behind your face mask, you intertwined your fingers with hers. “Let's go play something else, I'll go easy on you, promise.”

“You better not!” she warned, letting you take the lead as you weaved through the crowded room. A grin spread across your lips when you found the machine you were searching for, surprised and delighted that it was still there after all those years. Her dark eyes twinkled as she held the plastic gun and you could almost see the memory replaying in her mind. The smile that gradually brightened her face brought flashbacks of your own to fruition and you saw the visage of the girl you fell in love with so many years ago.

You almost missed that time, back when your life wasn't buzzing with managers and fans and tight schedules, back when you could have a lazy day by yourself – that was how you met Siyeon after all. The pretty stranger, with her faded jeans and worn out sneakers – similar to your own – and how she accidentally stole your heart in that little arcade still lingered sweetly in your memory. Neither of you could have imagined that when she slid into the booth beside you, picking up that beat up plastic gun and asking to join your game, that she'd become the love of your life one day.

“You better not go easy on me,” she reiterated, pointing the gun towards the screen. “I'm definitely going to win this time!”

“We'll see about that,” you challenged, raising your own weapon. Occasionally, she would glance over at your counter, whining when she noticed that your number was higher than hers. “You know, you'd do better if you paid attention to your own screen, babe.”

“You're totally cheating!” she accused with a stomp of her foot. “Look, you have more enemies to shoot than I do!”

You wouldn't have known whether her allegations were true or false, as you were not looking at your screen but, rather, the pout forming once more on her lips. Eyes doing a quick sweep of the room, you lowered your mask and pressed a quick kiss against them until you felt them curve into a smile. The timer buzzed as you pulled away, displaying that you'd finished with more points than her.

Teasingly, she stuck her tongue out and poked a finger against your side until you were squirming away from the slight tickle. “Cheater!”

You laughed, pulling your mask back up in the hopes no one had seen your face. “Me? I would never.”

She pointed towards the screen and then to her lips. “Then explain that.”

“Hm... I love you very very much and always want to see you smile?” She scrunched her nose at your cheesiness but made no more accusations. “However can I correct my terrible wrongdoing?”

She hummed thoughtfully before placing a hand against her stomach. “Food? You did say we were going out to eat earlier.”

“I did say that, didn't I?” You rubbed the back of your neck guiltily. “What do you feel like eating? Seafood? Steak? I'll buy whatever you like. It's getting pretty late, should I just call over Ms. Kim and have her cook for us at home?”

Siyeon chuckled at your babbling, intertwining her fingers with yours and leading you towards the adjoining food court. “How about chicken and cola?”

“Your wish is my command, beautiful.” Briefly, she swung your hand up to her lips and pressed them to the back of it, leaving a hint of sangria lipstick on your skin. Glancing over at her, you noticed her smug grin. “What are you scheming?”

“What? I'm not aloud to kiss you?” She played innocent, batting her lashes. When you narrowed your eyes, indicating towards the mark she left behind, she relented with a sigh. “I was hoping they'd realize we’re not interested in company.”

Peering behind you, you noticed the group you'd amassed, whispering to themselves and gesturing in your direction. Out of habit, you ducked your head down and pulled your hood closer to your face even though you were sure they’d already saw you.

“Excuse me!” one of them called and you suddenly wished you could have rented out the arcade beforehand. Sighing, you turned towards the voice. “Are you who we think?”

Donning a practiced smile, you finally removed the mask. “Maybe, are you a fan of mine?”

The small group bounced on their heels, excitement shaking their frames. One of them stepped forward, nervously fumbling with their phone. “Is it okay if I ask you for a picture?”

The rest of them chimed in behind him with a lilted 'me too' and you complied, shooting Siyeon an apologetic glance. Nearly blinded by the flash of their cameras, you finished their request before rushing back to her side. “I appreciate your support as my fans but I really have to g-”

“Isn't that your girlfriend? I read an article about the two of you last month.”

You swallowed thickly, unsure of which direction he was headed. You'd had a plethora of responses since the two of you went public, most were supportive but envy colored more than a few and, unfortunately, Siyeon took the brunt of it. “She is, I'm very much in love with her.”

He nodded silently, gaze settling on the diamonds lining her neck. Shifting uncomfortably, she clasped the top notch of her button-up in an attempt to hide the expensive jewels. “I'm glad you’re happy but you should be careful, people might take advantage of your status.”

Your smile faltered a bit as you barely managed to suppress the urge to roll your eyes. “You're not implying that she's using me for my money are you? Who do y-”

Siyeon's hand tightened against yours as she shook her head. “Thank you for being supportive of us, I hope you'll continue to be in the future too. Since you know so much about us, I'm sure you know we're very busy people so we have to be on our way.”

Her words were sweet yet sharper than anything you could have managed, and you followed her in stunned silence as she led you back to the gaming portion of the arcade. Stopping suddenly, you pouted. “You should have let me talk to them. I'm tired of them thinking they can talk about my girlfriend like that.”

Siyeon shook her head. “And what would they think about you? The sweet idol who cares so much about their fans, the royalty of fan service, telling them off? I'm not going to ruin your reputation like that.”

“What does that matter when the woman I love is being hurt by them?”

She hesitated a moment before shaking her head. “It doesn't bother me.”

Tears of frustration pricked your eyes. “You really think I didn’t notice? Ever since we went public, you've been refusing more and more of the things I try to buy you. Your sister called the first few nights and told me how you were crying. I even saw you reading their comments on the way here. Why do you think I brought you here to begin with?” you sniffled, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I just wanted tonight to be special.”

You thought about the fancy restaurant you'd rented out months prior in preparation for your proposal. You'd wanted to reveal your relationship after you'd proposed, yet you'd been caught red-handed. A flicker of hope tricked your heart into believing that, despite the exposure and jealous comments, you could still go through with your plans. In hindsight, you should have waited instead of letting the excitement and impatience rule your judgement.

The ring in your coat was an anchor, rows of diamonds sinking to the bottom of the blue velvet pocket. The only thing heavier was the look in her eyes as she switched off her phone and gazed blankly out of the car window. Afraid that she'd feel even more suffocated in such an expensive place, you asked your chauffeur to drive you to the opposite side of the city, to the arcade where you and Siyeon first met, yet it seemed to have ruined everything instead.

Wiping your tears, she drew you away from your straying thoughts. “It is special. You think my night was ruined because of some jealous fans? I've already forgotten them, and besides, there's still something you have to do.”

You tilted your head in curiosity and she giggled, wrapping an arm around you and leading you towards the vending machines at the back of the arcade. Fishing a coin out of her purse, she placed it in one of the candy machines, twisting the knob until a plastic sphere popped out of the dispenser. She pressed the container to your palm, closing your fingers around it before wrapping her hands around yours and leaning forward to kiss you.

“What was that for?” you whispered, mind annulled of all thoughts except the taste of her still lingering on your lips.

Bright specks of light twinkled in her eyes as she pretended to think. “Because I love you very very much and always want to see you smile?” She hummed and you breathed out a laugh at the sound of your own words. “Also, I was waiting for you to ask me something but that wasn't it, angel.”

Hands falling from your own, she gestured towards the ball still pressed to your palm. Popping open the lid, bewilderment swirled in your eyes at the sight of a candy ring. “You knew?”

“I'm not saying Gahyeon accidentally let the secret slip but...” You never thought you'd be thanking her for spoiling your proposal yet, you suddenly couldn't be more grateful. 

Bathed in pink and violet neon, Siyeon smiled sweetly and nothing felt more right in that moment than dropping to one knee and offering a ring of blue raspberry. “Lee Siyeon, will you marry me?”

#siyeon #dreamcatcher #dreamcatcher scenarios #girl group scenarios #kpop scenarios #i finished this at 6am so forgive me if it's bad lol

[ichigopanhpff]

BNHA One-Shot: Bust A Cap

I’m surprised no one’s written something like this yet. Just a short one with by OC, Takahiro “Ren” Remy, who is a second year at U.A. and currently an R.A. for the 1-A dorms. She’s from a fic I just started called “Blink!”

Enjoy!

---

It was lazy afternoon and a rare day where class 1-A didn’t have any school work or training to catch up on.

Yes, today was a total rest day.

Some decided to hang out in the privacy of their own room while others lounged in the common area. It was far too hot to go outside to do anything.

“Iida-kun, Deku-kun,” Ren called the two boys from the common room, carrying a small folded table and a bottle. “Come with me a sec.”

The two looked at each other in confusion and got up from the couch. They followed their R.A. outside, where the summer heat and breeze greeted them. Having been outside for merely seconds, they could begin feeling the humidity cling onto their skin when they ended up in the shady grass area to the right side of the dorm. Walking a few steps forward, she set the table up and set the bottle on top. Happy with the positioning, Ren turned back around with a determined smirk.

“Uh, senpai?” Midoriya asked with a tone of confusion. “What are you doing?”

“We’re training today.”

“Training?”

“There’s been a thing online recently called the ‘Bottle Cap Challenge’, where people unscrew the cap of a bottle with their kicks without knocking the bottle over,” she explained. “And I thought this would be a great training exercise for you two! You can learn precision and self-control at the same time.”

“What a great idea!” Iida agreed and put his hand to his chin. “My Recipro Burst does activate too fast sometimes when I use it...”

“And it’ll help with Deku-kun’s Shoot Style,” she added.

The two boys’ eyes lit up with excitement and yelled, “Let’s do this!” They all began stretching their legs before attempting.

“Senpai, would you mind giving us a demonstration before we start?” the tall boy requested.

Ren stepped back about six feet from the bottle and focused.

“I like to get a bit of a running start,” she commented and readied her stance. Doing little hops in place, she made two tight Chaine turns and went into a full roundhouse kick at the top of the bottle. In an instantaneous moment, both boys saw the tip of her shoe touch the cap and spun it off. Firmly planting her foot back on the ground, she huffed out a soft breath and released her stance.

“Ohhhhhh!!!! That’s so amazing!” they both exclaimed.

She walked off to pick the cap back up and reset the bottle.

“Whenever you guys are ready.”

“I’ll go first,” Iida firmly stated. The tall dark blue hair colored boy took a few steps back and readied himself. Hearing the engines at his calves fire up, he went full throttle and swung his right leg at the bottle, only to knock the whole thing over instead. He rigidly stood there, soaking in his failure.

“I went a little too gung-ho,” Iida sulked at the nearby wall.

“I-It’s fine! Don’t worry about it,” Ren comforted. “It’d be a miracle for you to get it on the first try!”

“How long did it take you, Ren-senpai?” Deku asked.

“At least 10 times,” she confessed and placed her hands on her hips. “The trick is to control the angle and power of your kick.”

She then turned back to Iida.

“Try it without your quirk on your next turn so you can get a handle of your strength,” she directed.

“That’s right! I’m so used to activating my quirk whenever we’re training!” he energetically replied, his hands moving in their usual robotic manner. “Such a wise suggestion, Takahiro-senpai!”

“Deku-kun, you ready?”

The freckled boy nodded and prepared himself.

Giving himself enough room, Midoriya activated All For One, making him glow teal green all over. He went into a running start for momentum and jumped up to ready his body into a roundhouse kick. Reiterating Ren’s advice in his head, he tried his best to angle his foot as it came closer to the cap. The moment contact was made, the whole bottle spun around on the table and wobbled back into stationary position a few inches from falling off of the table.

“Gah, so close!” he groaned out with a wry grin.

The viridian haired boy walked back to the table and reset the bottle for Iida’s turn. For the next 15 minutes or so, the boys took their turns in trying to knock the cap off, sweat beginning to accumulate around their arms. And at long last, Iida was the first one to succeed between the two. Both Deku and Ren happily cheered and clapped for him.

“Now that you got the feel for it, try it with your quirk,” their R.A. said.

“What’re you guys doin’ here?” a new voice intervened.

The three turned to see the Bakusquad, with Ochaco and Todoroki trailing not too far behind.

“We’re trying out the bottle cap challenge,” Midoriya answered.

“Whoa, that sounds super fun!” Ochaco exclaimed. “I wanna try too!”

With new challengers entering the arena, Ren gave them the lowdown on the challenge and had Iida give the demonstration.

“Hm, doin’ the challenge itself isn’t all that fun...” Ashino pouted and suddenly had a devilish idea. “How ‘bout this?! Whoever misses the most have to do whatever the winner wants for one day!”

“That’s a pretty steep bet, Mina...” Ren trailed off with a tone of concern.

“Heh, scared senpai?” Bakugou goaded with his trademark shit-eating grin. “You don’t have to do it.”

Ren shot him a look of annoyance with her hazel green eyes.

“I never said I wasn’t,” she shot back. “Let’s up the ante: Loser also has to call the winner ‘master’ or whatever name the winner decides on.”

“Hope you got the balls to back up what you said,” the ash blond boy arrogantly responded.

“Oh trust me, Boom-Boom. My balls are definitely bigger than yours,” the R.A. retorted, setting off a chain of gasps and excited exclaims of ‘ooooh’s, prompting Bakugo to offset a couple of mini-explosions in the palm of his right hand.

“Senpai’s all fired up,” Aishino giddily commented. “So freaking cool!”

“Alright, let’s go!” Kirishima exclaimed and slammed his right fist into his left hand. “I’m gettin’ riled up!”

While everyone got into place, Iida immediately shot his right hand up.

“I will not be participating in this as I feel my quirk will have an unfair advantage over everyone,” Iida firmly confessed. “Therefore, I will be the referee.”

“As expected of the class rep,” Ochaco applauded.

“I got no problem with that,” Sero said.

“What are the rules then?” Kaminari asked.

“Best out of 3 and you can only use your legs. Anyone using their arms or quirks are automatically disqualified,” Ren dictated. “You guys okay with that?”

With everyone agreeing to the terms, it was time to start. Mina was the first one up. Since she has dancing as a hobby, she’s already aware of how her body reacts when kicking. And with a swift turn with her extended leg, she was the first to successfully complete the challenge.

“Peace of cake!” the pink girl cheered and threw up a victory hand gesture with a toothy grin.

Once the bottle was reset, it was Ren’s turn. Shifting into stance, she repeated her process and went for it. Unfortunately, she put enough spin on the cap but not enough force to knock it off.

“Shit,” she hissed out.

“Those big balls of yours must be draggin’ you down, senpai,” Bakugou jeered from the back.

She merely scoffed and walked past him to sit down on the sidelines. Next up was Ochaco. Having had martial arts experience with Gunhead from her internship, the moves were still fresh in her mind. Focusing her mind and body, she managed to succeed without hesitation.

“Ochaco-chan may actually be a lowkey young lorddess,” Ren commented in amazement as the peppy brunette reveled in her success. “I felt her power in that kick.”

Next up was Midoriya. Getting into position, he prepared himself to attack. Within the first flicker of All For One, Iida immediately intervened.

“Midoriya! You’re disqualified for using your quirk!” the class rep bellowed.

“Ah crap!” the boy exclaimed. “I totally forgot about that! I got so used to activating it with kicks.”

“You moron!” Bakugou yelled and proceeded to kick his childhood friend in the butt. “Use your brain!”

“Kacchan, you didn’t have to do that,” Midoriya winced at the pain and walked off rubbing the spot he was kicked before sitting down beside Ren, pouting.

The challenge continued on, with Kaminari easily aced it and Kirishima disqualified for using his quirk to extend his toe to flick the cap; Sero managed to get it off and then it was Bakugou’s turn. Charging in his usual style sans his explosions, he jumped and managed to get the cap off with spinning heel kick. Last up was Todoroki and in a flash, he swiftly kicked the lid and it gracefully fell down onto the table. 

Round two was up with Ashino starting again, but accidentally kicked the bottle over this time around and reset it for the next person. Ren regained her focus and attacked the cap with a roundhouse for the centrifugal force and kicked upward to flick it off.

“Now you’re just showing off,” Bakugou huffed and crossed his arms.

“Maybe just a little,” she humble bragged.

Ochaco took her turn and also managed to succeed again. Kaminari went again and missed once more, much to his chagrin.

“Damn, this is harder than it looks,” the flashy blond boy groaned out and walked off.

Sero went and almost had it; the cap decided to stay teetering at the lip of the bottle and refused to fall. Everyone collectively groaned and chuckled. Everyone went silent when it was Bakugou’s turn. He went into a roundhouse and followed up with an axe kick on the cap. Whether it was by pure dumb luck or not, he managed to get the cap flip up in the air and have it land right back on the bottle. Explosive laughter filled the air when everyone saw what happened.

“All that flash and nothing!” Mina gasped between her breaths. “That was so lame!”

“Shut the fuck up! Don’t laugh!” Bakugou angrily shouted and lightly blushed out of embarrassment, only to be drowned out by more laughing.

After everyone calmed down, the bottle was reset and Todoroki was up.

“Do I have to do something flashy too?” he asked in his usual demeanor.

“No, no. Just do what you did last round if you want,” Ren said.

The bi-colored hair boy went for it and successfully got it off with a simple side kick.

“Dude, you been practicin’ on your own or somethin’?” Kirishima asked in awe.

“It’s really not that hard. All you have to do is focus on where your kicks land,” Todoroki instructed. “And the rest will follow.”

“This will now be the last round,” Iida announced. “The winner and loser will be determined after.”

From here on, the competition got serious and fun time was over. Ashino took her turn and got it off; Ren barely managed to get hers off while Ochaco completed it without a hitch. Kaminari went and got the cap off by sheer luck, to which he celebrated to for two whole minutes. Up next was Sero, who thought he had it in the bag, only to realize he spun the bottle as well. The cap threatened to fall off and barely did at the end. Bakugou went for the last time and got the cap off with a spinning hook kick, whereas Todoroki followed up his turn with a simple wheel kick.

“Here are the results,” Iida announced. “Ashino: 2; Takahiro-senpai: 2; Uraraka: 3; Kaminari: 2; Sero: 2; Bakugou: 2; Todoroki: 3.”

“Should we do janken* as a tie-breaker?” Ochaco suggested.

“I’m fine with that,” Kaminari agreed. “No hard feelings at the end.”

Mina, Ren, Kaminari, Sero and Bakugou made a small circle.

“First comes rock, jan, ken–”

Everyone threw down their pick: both Ren and Bakugou threw down scissors, whereas the rest threw down rock.

“Goddamnit!” Bakugou screamed.

“Scissors… why must you betray me,” Ren moped with wobbly legs while the rest cheered.

The two then turned to each other with sharp eyes as if they were mortal enemies and positioned themselves for the last round.

“No hard feelings, senpai,” Bakugou confidently belted out.

“Oh, none at all,” Ren reply was laced with sarcasm.

“First comes rock, jan, ken–”

Bakugou threw down scissors and Ren threw down paper.

“Fuck yes! I win!” the explosive blond shouted and threw his fist up in the air.

“Life… why you do this,” the girl dejectedly said to herself, holding her trembling ‘paper’ hand.

Finally, Ochaco and Todoroki went their turn, to which Todoroki won with paper. Sighing heavily, Ren slowly made her way over and stared up at him. She could’ve sworn he grew taller again.

“Here I am,” she announced without fanfare and shrugged her shoulder. His heterochromatic eyes gazed down at the R.A., wondering what he should do. “What is thy bidding?” she deadpanned.

“I’ll think of something later,” he uttered out and walked away. “It’s hot.”

“Ehhhh?!” Ashino protested. “You’re not gonna do it now?! No fun!”

The next day, everyone in class 1-A couldn’t believe what they were seeing: Todoroki was laying on top of Ren with his eyes closed on one of the couches in the common area, her arms were draped around his shoulders. A blooming embarrassed blush dyed across her pale cheeks.

“I’m… his human pillow today,” she muttered out, avoiding eye contact. “Because I look comfortable, apparently.”

Todoroki’s eyes fluttered open and looked up at his servant for the day in a nonchalant manner.

“My hair is in my eyes, Ren-Ren,” he softly uttered out in an almost arrogant manner. “Brush them aside for me?”

“Y-yes… my k-king.”

At that moment, Takahiro Ren wanted to teleport into a Black Hole and disappear off of this world while the entire class reacted with surprised whoops and shouts.

---

*Janken = Rock, paper, scissors

#bnha #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #midoriya izuku #iida tenya #uraraka ochacho #bakugou katsuki #todoroki shouto #bnha oc #sero hanta #bottle cap challenge #kirishima eijirou #kaminari denki #ashido mina #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #my hero fanfic #ichigo bnha-fics

[danielxrk]

           ✞ THINK YOU KNOW ME? *    KILL IT       { rap }

he's glad he ended the first half of the day's auditions on guitar; it leaves him in a better mood to face the others during the break, and all things considered, he's happy with how the day has gone so far. he thinks he did well enough at talking through his interview, and that he showed a good side of himself in the special skills portion, it's just the singing portion that he finds questionable. it's not even that he thinks he did poorly, it's just that he doesn't know, he detached so much from this plane of reality during it. he didn't think about his notes; he got lost in what the song meant to him, and thoughts he thought he subdued, clearly not finished with him yet. yet thanks to the guitar, he wasn't worried about it. he could hope it all came off as genuine emotion (which it really was) and that it sold the performance where his vocal talent couldn't.

he practically tackles kenta in a half-hug once he spots him and woojin in the hallway, easily throwing an arm around kenta’s shoulders, and he grins at woojin, too. "you made it," he says, potentially interpreted as not believing it or knowing they would all along. "just a little bit left." he's sure they did better than he did last year, knowing them, and this much is a reminder to himself, too, but for now, he'll enjoy these 20 minutes before they're separated again. he doesn't talk much, in favor of letting kenta babble about whatever he sees fit, and he just listens; he's always been better at that than talking anyway, and the smile that lingers on his face the entire time is genuine. kenta seems excited, unless this is all just nerves. daniel isn't sure which, but he hopes it's the former, and accepts it as such. he also accepts any of the food kenta offers him, and surprisingly isn't hurt to find out sungwoon made a lunch box for kenta and not him. it seems a little petty, but that also seems very sungwoon, and he probably deserved that much up until yesterday; maybe he still does.

in between each of them respectively checking their phones (though does woojin ever really stop checking his phone?) kenta asks how it went for him, and it's funny, because daniel just read the message from sungwoon in the empty enigma group chat asking the same. "it was good!" he chirps, and it's not like that was a lie. "singing portion was..." how does he describe it? "weird?" he chuckles, almost nervous. "not bad, but i think i got too into it. i don't really remember it, like i blocked it all out or something." at least partially true. daniel remembers how he felt during it, though; it's just that he doesn't want to think about it. when he returns to his phone to message back the group chat, he’s met with the incredibly rare, once-in-a-blue-moon woojin message in the empty enigma chat daniel was pretty sure he permanently had on mute. still, he messages similar to what he said back to the group chat: i don't know, it was weird. the interview was fine but do you ever sing and feel like you get transported to another dimension? i finished and was like what 

the time passes too quickly, and he knows he'll miss the company of his friends as soon as he's back in that practice room alone. in the moments before then, he slips in another quick hug for kenta and pats woojin on the back, for once not fearing how he'll react. daniel can handle a little annoyance for how proud he is of them.

once he's corralled back into the room of vocalists, he sees kenta's messages in the empty enigma group chat and sends his own: sungwoon hyung, why didn't you make me lunch too? 😢

he follows it up with a quick addition of just kidding! you've done well, everyone. let's finish this

--

the air has changed since the last time he was in the room, like someone took a vacuum and sucked the energy right out of it. if these vocalists are anything like he was last year, they're not nearly as confident in their other skills, or they may not have prepared anything at all. if the camera were to pan over faces now, there would be some with color drained, some with anxiety in their eyes, and then daniel: peculiarly composed.

it's not that he's really confident in his rapping. his singing is still probably better, given his experience. daniel has only been rapping for no more than three months now, a new avenue of music opened up to him thanks to trc's triple threat challenge. he's been practicing ever since, venturing into hip hop music, and into bands that feature rapping, too, and picking up as much as he can. it's something he keeps mostly to himself, still not comfortable sharing it with anyone else; it's a little embarrassing, something like a guilty pleasure, but that was how empty enigma started out for him, too.

it's just that he feels like he might have an edge here. his rapping isn't so bad-- especially not as bad as it was last year when he stumbled through super bass as his improvised second skill, because at least he knew the words. now, he's well-practiced, and knows he can surpass the voices in this room that are solely vocals, even if it's only this time. well, maybe knows is too generous. he thinks he can. he believes it, and doesn't let his thoughts wander enough to doubt it.

his name seems to come more quickly now. maybe its just that his comfort level has shifted, or maybe the contestants ahead of him have much shorter performances this time around-- likely a mixture of both. either way, he only feels the familiar dip of dread in his stomach a pinch, but ultimately at peace. he might even be a little excited after not rapping for anyone else since his triple threat challenge performance.

the rap he's set to perform is one he found during his delve into the "art of rapping," a side project of a frontman in a band, so he thinks it's fitting for him. the lyrics feel relevant too, and that always helps. his rap is short, an optimistic attempt at quality over quantity, and he doesn't have a backtrack, figuring it's better to let his voice fend for itself than potentially fall out of rhythm with an instrumental. all of that aside, he's prepared something he's surprisingly actually confident in. they give him the signal, and he pulls his hood up over his head to give himself a little extra boost of the right attitude.

no one knows who i am to flip over this gameboard i spit and grind my teeth every day asleep or awake

maybe it isn't true. everyone he performs this in front of might know him from the mgas, and if this makes it to a tv screen, it may reach others that know him from the same, or from empty enigma. he's not a total unknown, but it feels like the truth, too. even with all of this, he still has some mystery-- now more than ever, like a card up his sleeve, still not entirely revealed even now. nobody here knows who he really is. (daniel himself is still figuring that one out. maybe they'll find the answer together.)

i squeeze my own neck, i’m lazy i pick what i want i step on it and like a beagle, i bark

truthfully, these are the lyrics he understands the least. in retrospect, he could've tried his hand at an original rap to flex is lyric writing again, but he's not that confident in it-- especially not confident enough to apply it to rap. he thinks he gets the point, though: it's hard work, and it's desperation, and it's a hunger to prove yourself and be known. daniel feels that too at his core, and it makes it easier to portray, even in an area he's new to.

this is where the original song picks up-- where he has to be intentional not to trip over his own words-- but he's practiced this the most of anything, because he knew it was what he needed the most help in and because it was the most fun (aside from guitar, old faithful as it were.)

wrote these words all night till i heard the birds chirping, playing the trainee secrete! adrenaline ready! with blood sweat

he didn't write these words in particular, but he's known his fair share of sacrificing sleep to write songs in recent months, not out of necessity, but desire. maybe there was some necessity in it too, like a need to pour thoughts and emotions out on a page, freeing them from where they lurked and swirled in his mind-- that release, that freedom, that productivity. daniel never knew his feelings could be useful for something before he started writing songs.

he's not a trainee either-- still doesn't know if he wants to be one --but he knows how to work hard. he knows the feeling of stage lighting and pounding music and the cheer of a crowd, however humble, and he knows the teamwork it takes to make it happen.

the frustration of the criticism he received last season-- of the criticism he received from himself, and knowing it was all justified. he remembers reading one comment in particular that suggested he didn't work as hard as his teammates, and perhaps that stuck with him the most. in the end, he believed even that was true, and it lit a fire in him to not let anyone down any longer, and to be better for this season, leading up to today. he channels all of it into the final lines

i knocked on this frustration all night i can stretch out my back and say, think you know me? kill it

the original doesn't end here, but they aren't lyrics daniel can apply to himself, nor are they ones he'd feel well re-writing, so it is where his audition ends. the silence of the room afterwards is strange, and he can almost feel an echo of his voice moments prior-- an eco of the entire rest of the day. he bows, a bit belatedly, and says, "thank you," voice scratchy, and he clears his throat. it lacks his typical brightness this time, intensity still wearing off, and he lingers a little longer than he should, like there's something more to say or to do.

in the end, he can't think of anything, and sees himself out, a bit awkwardly, though the smile finds itself to his face soon after. he's finished, and today was so much better than the day like it last year, and it's not even over yet. he collides with kenta and woojin, and slings his arms over both of their shoulders, unfamiliar afterglow of a successful audition rendering him entirely carefree.

✉ ⊰🌞 funky lil thots 🌞⊱ ✉ 🙏 🙏 🙏

#rkmga5audition5 #rkkenta #rkxsungwoon #rkpwj #rkmga5 #;solo #;adrenalineready #;ee #( * yes that is the empty enigma gc #i'm emo actually #that was a wild ride but daniel and i had so much fun!! #here's to more??? prayer emojis intensify )

[likethetailofacomet]

Family

Keeping it rolling with Claire and Drake for @choices-september-challenge # 11- Family. Thank you so much for the love on my first fic, Future!! 

“Drake?” her voice came out as a small, tentative whisper. She'd been hesitant to disrupt the peace they'd found together on this lazy Sunday afternoon. The social season was starting to wind down and they had been afforded a rare day off from scheduled tea parties and opportunistic charity events. Liam was busy in meetings with his father and a handful of other nobles as they caught up on some stately business. Most of the ladies had chosen to go shopping and to the spa. Hana had excitedly asked Claire to join that morning, but Claire declined, choosing instead to spend the day in Drake's arms.

After coffee and cronuts they'd lounged in Drake's suite trading gentle kisses and touches. It had only been a week since he'd put her fears of the future at ease by declaring his love for her, and they were still adjusting to the new level of intimacy that this allowed them. All they had before were rough, hasty kisses and fast, hard sex. It was all sharp edges and uncertainty, and it was what she'd been used to before she met him.

Their kisses and touches began to pick up, but there was still a softness, a tenderness to the way that they licked and nipped at each other's skin, at the way their hands explored every inch of each other's bodies- not claiming or using each other, but focusing wholly on the other's pleasure in their lovemaking. He'd moaned her name in her ear and it made her see stars. They both tipped over together, Claire left sighing and whimpering at the ecstasy of him as he stroked and kissed her hair. Before long, they'd fallen asleep tangled in each other, her hair spread out across his chest.

Claire had woken up before Drake. The light coming in through the blinds was the golden color of late afternoon. She carefully picked her head up off of his chest to look at the man laying next to her. A deep, piercing warmth spread from her chest throughout the rest of her body. She gently ran her fingers through his hair and smiled down at him. Its true that she had been terrified to fall for Drake, and its true that it still scared her how quickly he was able to change everything, how completely she had fallen for him. She'd never shared herself with anyone the way that she wanted to share herself with Drake- not just with her body, but with all of her. The good parts, the bad parts, all of it. She knew that, even if they were living in Cordonia among the nobility with all their balls and pageantry, life had been far from a fairy tale for either of them. She knew that if they were going to have a solid chance to make it work that they would have to learn each other's demons, so they could help each other face them.

He hadn't heard her first attempt to wake him, so she tried again, this time kissing his cheek and rubbing his back. “Drake?”

“Mmm,” he stirred under her hands. “That feels amazing.” His sleepy voice was so endearing, and just the idea of getting to have more moments like this with him gave her the strength to broach the topic.

“Good,” she replied, kissing him on the lips. He returned the kiss, running his hands through her hair and pulling her close.

When they'd finally broken apart, he looked at her and smiled. “Berkley, you can wake me up like that any time, but was there a reason you woke me up? I mean other than the fact that you can't keep your hands off me.” he flashed his smile again. It was getting much more of a workout now that she was in his life.

“There was.” she answered quietly. “I realized that I don't know very much about you, and you don't know very much about me either, and...I want you to. I want to know you and I need you to know me too.”

“Okay,” Drake said, punctuating his statement with a kiss on her nose. “Where should we start?”

Claire was a little shocked at his willingness to open old boxes and brush the dust off of his memories; to lay them bare before her. “Really? No protest at all?”  

“Claire, I don't know how or why, but I know that you are it for me. I'll tell you anything you want to know. I'm yours, every piece of me. All the pieces might not be beautiful...”

“That's okay! Mine aren't!” she blurted out, causing him to chuckle.

“I know, baby, I know. I wish they were, for you. But I know you have old scars, and we both know that I do. I think you're right. If we're going to have a shot at this,” he gestures to their laced fingers, “then I think we better start learning each other. So, where do we start?”

“Well... I'd been wondering about your family...” she settled close to his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, warm and safe.

“What about them?” Claire wasn't facing him but she knew his eyes were closed.  

“Where are they, Drake? Why don't you ever talk about them?”

“Promise me something?” he said after a beat.

“Anything,” she said, and she meant it.

“Promise me that after I tell you, you'll answer the same question.”

A lump started to form in her throat but Claire swallowed it down. This was her idea, she knew she'd have to tell him things too. “Deal,” she said in a small voice, stroking the arm he had wrapped around her.

She felt Drake nod before he started. “My father was killed in the line of duty while protecting the royal family. He was king Constantine's personal body guard. I was 7.”

“I'm so sorry Drake,” she closes her eyes as his pain enters her chest. “What was his name?”

“Jackson,” he replied. “I know I was young when I lost him, but the memories that I have of him are some of the best in my life. He was an amazing father. He loved my sister and I so much, and he loved my mom more than I'd ever seen anyone love someone before.”

Claire kissed the skin on the underside of his forearm. “Where's your mom now?”

Drake sighed. “She moved back to the US, to Texas where she's from. You knew I was half American, didn't you?”

“Maxwell may have let it slip. So you're a Texan, huh?”

He smiled, “Yup. My mom's family were horse trainers, and she inherited the farm. After my dad died she stayed in Cordonia  for a little while, but her heart was gone. There was nothing keeping her here anymore. She decided to let Savannah and I stay when Constantine offered us a place in the castle. She figured we'd have a better life here, even if it meant living it without her. She was probably right, but...”he trailed off with a sigh.

“But you still miss her.”

“Yeah, I do. I miss them both. I wish they could meet you. My dad would have loved the daylights out of you, you know?”

She turned to face him, propping herself up on one elbow. “I would have loved to meet him. I hope I can meet your mom someday. When's the last time you saw her?”

“I went back to the states for school a few years back, and I would see her for holidays and breaks.” he hesitated before continuing, pain crossing his face for the first time since they'd started talking. “But being back there wasn't the same without Savannah.”

“What happened to her?”

“I don't know. I...” another sigh, “I have no idea where she is. Something happened last year at one of the Beaumont parties. I saw her leaving an empty room crying and when I tried to talk to her she told me to stay out of it. It felt wrong, but I did what she asked. The next morning she'd left and I haven't heard from her since. I looked, I asked everyone I could think of if they had any idea where she'd gone. If she didnt want to talk to me that was fine I just... I needed to know where she was...that she was safe.”

“But you never found her?” Claire's voice was laced with pain as she gazed down at him.

“No...I failed her, Claire. And I live with that every day.”

“Drake, she had to have had her reasons...”

“But I'm her big brother. When our dad died it became my responsibility to keep her safe...and I can't...”

“Do you still want to find her?”

Drake locked eyes with her. “With everything I have. I just...need to know.”

“Then I'll help you.”

“Berkley...” he smiled sadly and stroked her cheek before pulling her into a delicate kiss. “You're amazing.”

“I mean it, Drake. I love you, and I didn't just want to hear all of this to feel bad for you. I want to help you make it better. We'll find her, okay?”

“Okay.” He began running his fingertips soothingly up and down her side. “Is it my turn to ask the questions now?”

She nodded. “Go ahead, shoot.” her voice came out shaky. She was nervous as all hell, having never shared her past with anyone before. She wasn't sure how to do it, but if Drake could bare it all for her than she could certainly do the same for him.

“Where are your parents? New York?” he didn't take his eyes off of hers.

“No, um, I moved to New York alone actually. I'm originally from New Jersey.”

“A Jersey Girl? No wonder you're so bold.” he smiled as he continued, still rubbing her exposed skin. “So they're in Jersey, then?”

“No...um, they're gone.” She blinked her eyes closed for a long second, and when she opened them a few tears slipped out.

“Claire,” he sat up and gently took hold of her arms. “I'm so sorry baby... we don't have to do this...”

“No, we do. I want to, Drake. I want...I need you to know these things about me. I want you to know why I am the way that I am.” she paused to wipe her eyes.

“Okay, if you're sure.” He kissed a stray tear as it rolled down her face.

“I'm sure... So yeah... dad was in the army. He was deployed right after the 9/11 attacks and uh...never came home...I have his military jacket in my closet...”

“He was a hero.”

“Yeah, yeah he was.” she nodded. She had been young when he died, but she couldn't remember a time when she didn't know that that possibility was always lurking around the corner. “My mom died in her sleep one night... I was 24 and she just...out of nowhere...it was the worst night of my life...” she doesn't know if he understands how much that means...how many bad nights she'd had and that was still the worst. “I had to tell my sister...”

“I didn't know you had a sister,” Drake's tone was careful and even, although his heart was breaking for her.

“Yeah, she's three years younger than me. She was at school in Pennsylvania, so I drove out there...and I had to be the one to tell her...who else would, right? She didn't take it well. She actually.... she blamed me for being too difficult, for causing our mom stress with my issues...she told me that she didn't want to see me anymore...that mom was her last family member...” a sob finally breaks through and Claire feels a dam burst in her. She panics internally, trying to build it back up before she's swept away.

“What's her name, your sister?”

“Brielle...” Claire smiles through her tears. “Even if she doesn't want anything to do with me... I love her. I'm proud of her...I just wish...I wish she'd talk to me. I know where she is. I know why she left. She just...chose to leave me behind.”

“I'm sorry, baby.” he looks deep into her eyes. “I'll never leave you behind. I promise.”

Claire knows that they had a long road ahead of them in their relationship. Still so much to learn about each other, so many old wounds that had been neglected for so long to start healing. But she is so glad that she brought up their families, because he had become her family, and she had become his.

#choices september challenge #choices #pb #drake x claire #drake x mc #trr #choices trr #trr book 1 #trr book 2 #trr book 3 #family

[uhbright]

A Reunion//Aaron Hotchner

Helloo! This is for @literallyprentissstwin ’s “angst challenge”. (it was super fun to write ngl ha). 

Word Count~ 2.6k

This is about Aaron, and my prompt was “I’m still not over you”. Idk if I screwed up because technically he didn’t sayyyy it. Well, you’ll see haha :)

mention of alcohol

ok lastly- all my italics got screwed up but I’m too lazy to fix it, so sorry

The soft summer breeze sifted through the grass, the friendly squeak of a worn swing set flowing along with it.

    Aaron watched as Jack kicked his feet back and forth, flying higher and higher into the air, his eyes squeezed shut with a smile spread across his face. Even as a 10-year-old, Jack knew to enjoy the little things.

    Aaron glanced around, still not used to the idea of safety after Peter Lewis’ death and their leaving Witness Protection.

    Just breathe, he told himself, it's all over, everything’s alright.

     He glanced down at his watch- He and Jack were going to visit Haley’s grave before they had to get on a flight to attend the annual “Hotchner Family Reunion”.

    Despite the event being yearly, Aaron hadn’t been since he’d gotten the job at Quantico in the Behavioral Analysis Sector, and Jack had never even gone once.

    —

    Jack sat patiently in the car for his dad to get the last suitcase into the trunk. He could feel the way this time of year affected him- the way he talked, walked, held himself.

   Even though Jack knew it was because his mom had died this time of year, it never affected him the same way it did his dad. He’d be sadder than usual, sure, but it would never keep him awake at nights, make it harder to accomplish day to day activities like it did Aaron.

     All the same they acted as if everything was normal, apart from visiting her grave on the anniversary date.

    —

    They stepped out onto the gloomy, gray ground and navigated their way through headstones. Once they arrived at the one they were looking for, Aaron replaced the few remains of a year-old bouquet with new, fresh flowers that would have to last the next year.

     The father and son stood in silence for a minute, Jack periodically looking up at his dad to see if his expression would change from the blank stare he had on.

     Several more minutes passed and the subtle rustle of Aaron’s sleeve folding to check his watch broke the dreadfully heavy silence. The pair crossed back through the cemetery and into the car.

       The long ride to the airport consisted only of a low-volume “easy-listening radio”, and a few sentences to point out some animals along the side of the road.

    --

    The plane ride was not too long, especially for a sleeping Jack who felt the one and a half hour flight took barely 5 minutes. Finding it difficult to sleep without being awoken by grievous memories, Aaron found comfort in looking out the window at the peaceful clouds, light white, tinted with pink and orange from the sun just beginning to set.

    On the ground again, the father and son duo took off towards the hotel room, the tranquil plane ride seeming to have renewed their energy.

    On the short taxi ride over to their hotel in a small Vermont town, Jack began to talk about his interest in planes and he began to describe the one they had been on to his dad in great detail. Impressed by Jack’s recital of information, Aaron ruffled his son’s hair and promised a stop to an ice cream parlor after they had settled down in the hotel room.

 --

    They began their walk into the central area of the town. Being an inconspicuous area uninterrupted by many tourists, the two were able to quickly find comfort and a congenial sense of joy in the borough.

    At a local, family-owned ice cream parlor, Jack stacked flavor upon flavor into a large waffle cone-bowl, topped with homemade whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles. Hotch had a small vanilla cone, but gladly took a few bites of Jack’s when he couldn’t manage to finish it all.

    Back at the hotel, Aaron had the two get ready for bed (far too early, according to Jack), so that they would be well rested for the early start of the reunion tomorrow.

 --

    Aaron awoke with the sun and made sure they were all packed for the reunion before waking up Jack so they could go to the car. His sister-in-law’s “famous” coleslaw balanced carefully on top of the passenger seat so it would safely make it to the reunion. After hours of pleading her to make the coleslaw so he could pass it off as his own, Aaron was not about to let it fall victim to the poorly maintained roads of Addison, Vermont.

    Hotch stopped for some coffee on the way there, not lucky enough to get another few minutes of sleep like Jack.

    When they pulled up at his mother’s large house, they parked behind a line of five cars, probably belonging to his brother and several cousins. (More specifically the ones who suck-up to his parents and get there early.) Aaron woke Jack up once more and fixed his bed head, then carried his son and the bowl of coleslaw up to the door.

“Aaron!” A skinny, fragile looking woman pulled open the door, “Jack!”

Her grandson wrapped his arms around her waist and gave her a friendly hug, despite being rather unfamiliar with the woman he embraced.

“Mom,” Aaron said lightly, and gave her a hug only to see over her shoulder to get a feel of who had already arrived.

Through the window to the backyard he could see several cousins who he barely remembered, along with some children that he’d never seen before. Basking in lawn chairs were a couple of ancient aunts and uncles he remembered from various Christmases (back when he used to come home for them). In the kitchen, setting out various plates and bowls of foods, was Aaron’s younger brother Sean, accompanied by an unknown woman.

“Where should I put this?” Aaron pulled away from the hug and held up the bowl of coleslaw.

“How ‘bout just on the counter,” She smiled and turned her attention towards Jack, “I have something for you! Follow me.” She began to lead him up a carpeted staircase, leaving Hotch alone in the entry room.

He looked around the pictures scattered about on cabinets, trunks, and bookshelves throughout the room. He saw himself up to the age of 15, before he went off to boarding school, then straight out to the California Police Department, then to the FBI. His brother, however, was pictured from the time he was born to photos probably taken just this last Christmas, only skipped for the year he was away in college.

Aaron turned away from the photos and made his way into the kitchen, where he was greeted with a curt nod from his brother.

“Sean,” the woman said quietly, grabbing onto his arm after a moment of a silence, “Sean, introduce me.”

“Oh sure,” he responded hesitantly, and looked up at Aaron. “Aaron this is…” He looked over at the woman and then back up at Aaron, “This is Hayley.”

A wave of nausea washed over Aaron, and he quickly sat the coleslaw onto the corner of the table before propping himself up beside it.

“Lovely to meet you,” She held out her hand. When Aaron just nodded with a tight smile, she wrapped her extended arm around Sean’s waist instead, “Sean and I have been dating for the past… oh how long has it been?” She looked up sweetly to the younger brother.

“Six months.” Sean brushed a small crumb off the countertop in an attempt to avoid eye contact.

Hayley smiled for a while, looking for a response.

“Okay, what is with you two?” She flopped her arms against her side, “Sean told me that you guys were never close, but this? This is weird.”

“It’s just that-” Sean tried, but couldn’t find a way to continue.

“No I’m happy for you guys,” Aaron tried a smile, quickly turned away, and headed for the living room. He plopped down on the couch and tried a few deep breaths to get rid of the feeling in his stomach. This shouldn’t be affecting you like this, he told himself, it’s just a name. But her hair color reminded him so much of Haley too, along with the confidence she exuded just by standing in the presence of a new person.

Jack came bounding down the stairs, lips buzzing as he held a large toy plane in the air in front of him. Aaron’s mom beaming behind him, “You told me he liked planes.”

Aaron smiled at his son, and opened his arms wide as Jack leaped into them still holding his plane in front of him, admiring it from all different angles.

“Dad! Look, it’s a Boeing 47! You can tell because it says here it’s a model 450!” Jack pointed at the bottom of the plane, and then continued examining it thoroughly.

“I hope it’s okay that I got him something,” Margaret began to sit down next to him on the couch. She looked up at Aaron’s face and her expression changed to concern, “Are you feeling okay? You look so flushed.” Her hand quickly flew to Aaron’s forehead, but he gently moved it away.

“I’m fine, it was just a long day yesterday.”

“Oh, that’s right.” She glanced at Jack, who was now less-enthusiastic about his newly acquired plane as the conversation grew more glum. “And I presume you met…” Her eyes drifted towards the kitchen were Hayley sat on the counter, looking up at Sean who was nervously glancing towards the group on the couch.

Aaron nodded briskly, “A little heads up would’ve been nice.”

“We discussed it,” Margaret placed a hand on his shoulder, “But I was afraid you’d end up skipping again! Everyone wanted to see you.”

Aaron sat for a moment in a silence, “Well I’m going to go say hi to everyone.” He lifted Jack off his lap and stood, leaving Margaret seated and apologetically looking up at him. Jack grabbed hold of his dad’s hand and they made their way out to the back yard.

“Aaron?” One of the old woman sat up from her lawn chair and pushed the sunglasses up to the top of her head. “Aaron is that you?” She attempted to stand but couldn’t straighten her back up after she swung her legs over the side of the chair.

Aaron rushed to her side and gave her a hug from the seated position. Not being able to remember her name, he left with a brief “Nice to see you.” And headed over to some “able-to-get-out-of-a-chair-on-their-own” family members.

“Aaron,” A fellow black-haired man looked up from a toddler bouncing on his knee.

Why does everyone always greet me with my name? Aaron smiled, “Great to see you.” (A safe line in his book.)

“Rodney,” The toddler-balancing man held out his hand.

“Of course,” Hotch lied and returned the handshake. “This is Jack.” His son peered out from behind Aaron’s back and smiled shyly.

“Nice to meet you Jack,” Rodney smiled and introduced his own son as Max.

“Well, we’re going to go meet and greet s’more.” Aaron grabbed Jack’s hand again and they continued walking through the backyard to a larger clump of family members under a large tree.

“Look! It’s Aaron!” A group of women turned away from their conversations and looked at him. “It’s so great that you could join us!” The same woman exclaimed as he approached. “I mean, an FBI agent in our family! How cool is that?”

“Oh, Margaret wasn’t supposed to tell people that,” Hotch looked behind him to see his mom through the kitchen window, continuing to cook for the guests.

“Well, we’re all family!” Another woman smiled and walked closer.

“Besides, you’re retired now I hear?” A third woman asked and looked down at Jack.

“To take care of this one.” Hotch ruffled Jack’s hair again and he wrinkled his nose.

“Especially after everything that’s happened.”

“Bethany!” The first woman exclaimed and Bethany’s eyes widened.

“Oh I’m sorry! I-”

“That’s okay. It’s been a rough couple of years but at least we’re still here.” Aaron squeezed Jack’s hand as he kicked at the mulch beneath them.

The three woman smiled pityingly and then turned the conversation to one another.

“Whaddaya say we go help Grandma in the kitchen?” Aaron looked down at Jack who nodded happily. Hotch swung him onto his back and they walked into the kitchen.

--

The day grew later as Jack and Hotch worked at peeling various veggies and putting sauces into bowls. Eventually everything was put onto three tables in the backyard. More guests must’ve arrived as the two helped get everything ready as there was little space to move around in the once open space.

Jack ran off to play with some younger cousins (one of which also had a love of planes, exclaiming how excited he was to ‘get to play with Jack’s Boeing 47’), leaving Aaron to endure the pitiful looks conversations alone.

As the night event surged on and kids began to grow tired, many parents began taking their children back to their respective hotel rooms. Hotch, quickly realizing he’d consumed a few too many drinks after stumbling back into the house, accepted his mother’s invitation to spend the night back at his family home. Margaret helped Jack wash up and get to bed, letting Aaron sit in his own room from his childhood. His mother hadn’t cleaned it out, although it was never a room you’d expect from a teenage boy- there were no posters on the wall, only 2 bookshelves with several pictures from his childhood and teen years, along with a navy blue comforter on his bed.

He laid down on his bed, feet still hanging off the sides, and closed his eyes. He focused on the darkness of his closed eyelids, trying to keep memories from resurfacing. A soft knock on the door snapped his eyes open.

“Hey, just wanted to make sure you made it up here alright,” Hayley stood nonchalantly in the doorway

“Fine.” Aaron said, still lying down on the bed, “just trying to sleep.”

“You’re still in a shirt and tie,” Hayley chuckled, “here let me help.” She crossed over to him and sat down on the corner of the bed. Hotch closed his eyes again, too tired and intoxicated to keep them open.

Hayley loosened his tie and slipped it over his head. Aaron’s head tipped to the side and he looked at the bookshelf beside him. As Hayley began unbuttoning his shirt, his eyes landed on a framed photograph in the center of the bookshelf. A 15 year old Aaron in a pirate costume stood with his arm around Haley dressed up as the lead in their high school play. An avalanche of weight fell onto Aaron’s chest and he gasped for air, pushing Sean’s girlfriend onto the floor. He continued to fight for air as years of suppressed emotions and a world of pain came flooding back to him.

    “What’s wrong?” Oh my God, are you okay?” Hayley stood and rushed to Aaron’s side.

    “Get away from me,” He swatted at her and continued to take heaving breaths.

    Hayley rushed out of the room and down the stairs, leaving Hotch alone, tears flooding down his cheeks. He grabbed the photo off the shelf and held it in his hands, staring down at his first love. How could it have ended this way? I’m still not over you.

#literallyprentissstwinsangstychallenge #really hope i got that hashtag right #it was a long one #wow a challange #how fun #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #cm fic #aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron #hotchner #what am i doing #someone send help #okay #love you #bye

[hoodiehan]

Lazy Days - Kim Seungmin Imagine

Synopsis: On Seungmin's day off, all he wants to do is laze around with you and doing absolutely nothing.

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: SeungminxReader

Word Count: 1595

A/N: I didn't edit this at all so I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes. I'll edit eventually but I just ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Seungmin had woken up that morning with the sun shining in his eyes. He was about to groan and roll over when he felt something under his arm shifting slightly. Thinking that it was Jisung, Seungmin didn't think much about it until he heard a light, feminine sounding sigh come from the body next to him. Peeping his eye open, Seungmin saw you laying underneath him, dreaming away. He smiled thinking about last night's events; Seungmin had taken you out to dinner then too an arcade where you both spent the rest of your money challenging each other to car racing games, skee ball and what not.

Seungmin gazed down at you as you remained snuggled underneath his arm. Even in your sleep, you were still the cutest thing ever, in Seungmin's eyes. He  sighed contentedly as he begin to slowly play with your hair and caress your face. When Seungmin became bored of being the only one awake, he began to poke your face. He repeatedly poked your cheek, specifically the place where your dimple was located whenever you smiled. Slowly but surely, your eyes slowly opened and found their way to Seungmin's face.

"Good morning!" Seungmin exclaimed, smiling widely.

You smiled back at him before closing your eyes and stretching while letting out a soft, "Good morning," as a reply back.

"It's Saturdaaay," Seungmin sang pulling you closer into his body, closing whatever minimal space was left between the two of you.

"Mmm, yes it is," You hummed hugging Seungmin's as you rested your head against his chest.

"What do you want to do today?" He asked taking your hand into his and twiddling with your fingers.

"Nothing," you replied looking back up at him.

"Nothing?" He questioned returning your gaze and looking back down at you.

"Yes. I'm feeling quite lazy today," you said placing your head back against his chest again. Seungmin's body vibrated with laughter and he chuckled at your response.

"I suppose we can have a lazy day. There's nothing to do today anyways." It took a while for the two of you to get out of bed, but when you finally did, it took you even longer to finally make it out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. After eating breakfast, the two of you settled on watching movies and lounging around on the couch as you simply enjoyed each other's company. It was later in the day when Seungmin had left you alone at the dorms so that he could run to the nearest market to get some food for the both of you. The minute Seungmin stepped back into the house and smelled the nail of nail polishes, he knew that he was in for it.

You were sitting on the floor with a bunch of nail polishes dispersed around you in a circle; you sitting in the middle of it as you pondered hard about which color to choose. Seungmin questioned whether he should pretend that he had never actually returned, but by the time he made up his mind to turn around and leave, you had already saw him.

"Seungmin!" You called out, a wide smile on your face and a playful glint in your eye.

"I'm back," he sighed. He already knew what you were going to ask. You had developed an obsession with nail art lately, and you were always trying to paint Seungmin's nails.

"Yes! You are back! Do you mind if I-" you began to start your plea, before Seungmin cut you off.

"No. Please, no. Don't you remember what happened last time?" Seungmin asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"What happened last time?" You asked, already having forgotten the events that had apparently occurred the last time you had painted on him.

"You painted my nails, and didn't wipe it off. Felix wouldn't let me live after he saw them!" At first, Seungmin was okay with the idea of you painting on him as he thought it was cute whenever you tried hard to make everything look pretty. But one day, you had purposely left his fingers drawn with the nail polishes. The members of Stray Kids saw his nails at practice the next day, and they would not let him live down the fact that he had a blue turtle painted on his pinkie finger. Felix had even gone so far to draw a blue turtle on post it notes and stick it onto Seungmin's bed post for nine days straight.

"Seungmiiiin," you whined from your place on the living room floor. "Please?" You asked letting out a small pout when he shook his head.

"No, Y/n," he replied crossing his arms disapprovingly.

"But it would look so good on you, I promise! Plus, I'm doing your fans a service, think of how happy all the fans will be when they see!" You exclaimed attempting to persuade him.

"No, Y/n. You are not painting my nails," Seungmin said. "You have terrible artistry skills, and I don't want you to end up painting my knuckle instead of my nail just because you have a terrible sense of how to use a brush." You pouted even more, your eyes widening and lips pursed outwards. "But... I've gotten better. I swear I have."

Seungmin sighed and uncrossed his arms. "Have you really?" He asked, his voice uncertain. You immediately straightened up your body, already prepared to take out your nail polishes.

"Yes! I have! I'm 100% better than last time, I've been practicing!"

Seungmin paused before giving up. "Fine you can paint my nails. But you're washing it off, right away!" He said pointing a finger at you. You grinned widely at him as he set down the groceries in the kitchen, then made his way over to you and sat down in front of all the nail polishes.

"What color do you want?"

And so it began. The next 2 hours were spent with you hunched over, attempting to paint the prettiest flower on Seungmin's middle finger while Seungmin sat back and watched you as you tried to paint the flower petals. When you had finished, the flower was no where near pretty. Yet Seungmin constantly reassured you that it appeared so life like, and he repeatedly said that he was in awe of how great of a job you did. The both of you knew that it wasn't beautiful in any way possible, but you still appreciated the fact that Seungmin praised anything you did.

The two of you ended your day baking cookies, since Seungmin had accidentally bought box cookie mix instead of a box of pasta. How he managed to mix up the two, you didn't understand. Especially since the box had a large picture of a cookie printed on it, rather than pasta. As the both of you worked in the kitchen, Seungmin insisted on putting all the ingredients together, while you mixed the batter together.

"And one teaspoon of sugar!" Seungmin pronounced, as he poured it all into the bowl filled with cookie batter. But the second he had tossed it into the bowl, you caught sight of the box that was held in his other hand.

"Wait Seungmin that's not sugar that's-" but it was too late. Seungmin had poured salt into the cookie mix, rather than sugar. "Salt," you ended your sentence. Seungmin's eyes widened as his eyes darted down to the contents that was held in his left hand.

"Oh." "Yeah." "Do you think it'll still be good?"

You stuck a spoon into the batter, and licked the contents off of it. "Well, it's pretty salty... Just like you!" You said. Seungmin began to protest when you hastily pressed a kiss against his lips to stop him from saying anything more.

When all the cookies were baked and ready to eat, the both of you sat on the couch with the plate filled of goodies in front of you. The tv played in the background, but none of you paid attention to it as you fed each other pieces of the chocolate chips cookies all the while giggling at each other's silliness. You both rambled on and on about random topics, and when you let out the first yawn, Seungmin insisted on you laying down. On the couch, the two of you laid down wrapped in each others arms just simply looking into each other's eyes until the two of you fell asleep.

When the other members of Stray Kids arrived back at the dorms, Felix was the first to notice the plate of cookies while the others gagged at how cute the two of you were, wrapped up in each other's sleeping. Felix took a bite of the cookie before coughing and looking for a napkin to spit out pieces of food.

"Why is this cookie so salty?"

A/N: iM SO SORRY THAT I DIDN'T EDIT THIS. But anywho, i'M TRYING TO SHOW MY BOY SEUNGMIN SOME LOOOVE so I wrote this for him. :'))) He's a precious boy who deserves all the happiness in the world.

I hope you enjoyed reading this, and thank you for taking the time to read it as well!!

-Maddy 💕

#stray kids #networkstraykids #lee felix #lee minho #han jisung #kim seungmin #kim woojin #bang chan #yang jeongin #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #stray #kids #jyp #jyp entertainment #fluff #kpop #fanfiction #stray kids imagine #leefelix #leeminho #hanjisung #kimseungmin #kimwoojin #bangchan #yangjeongin #seochangbin #hwanghyunjin #imagine #imagines

[disastr-femme]

I Just Can't...

-You’re Tony Stark’s daughter, and up until recently you never showed too much interest in combat or training. You aren’t helpless but definitely not battle ready. You’ve started some training with Natasha, but are having some trouble. All the Avengers, except Peter are out of town on a mission and you want help training.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader, Black Widow x Reader (Mention) Peter Parker x Hawkeye (Mention)

——– In the training room of the Avengers compound you focus on the combinations Nat taught you. Kick, kick, block, grab shoulders and knee to stomach, cartwheel away.

Sweat is dripping down your face as your dads favorite rock playlist blasts through the room. Everyone was out of town, except Peter. Your dad asked him to stay behind at the compound for added security. You didnt blame him, your dad. It wasnt until recently you decided you needed more training under your belt other than ‘kick em in the balls and pepper spray them until the cans empty’. Tony’s words, not yours.

You met Peter shortly before the Berlin incident, tagging along with Happy under the condition you stayed at the hotel while the confrontation was going down. You’ve admired Spiderman since you saw videos of him on YouTube. Maybe had a little crush on him since you saw the dork behind the mask. But you could never tell him, you love your friendship too much to possibly ruin it. Not to mention how awkward it would be around everyone else once they found out.

“Hey Y/N!” Peter says, almost shouting over the music. He’s hanging upside down on a set of pull up bars across the room.

“FRIDAY, can you turn the music down please?” you say in a normal voice. The AI complies quickly, the rock tones quickly becoming background noise. “What’s going on Parker?” you grin, walking towards him as you unwrap the dressings around your hands. He tosses a lazy smile at you from his perch, wearing his Spiderman suit without his mask.

“Nothing, just wanted to see what you were doing. You’ve been down here since after breakfast?” Peter asks you, surprise coloring his tone. He easily flips around so he’s standing on top of the bar. You sit yourself down on a mat, stretching out your legs as you talk to your friend. You’re almost able to hold a straddle, which you’re pretty proud of since you’ve only been training for just under two months. Natasha said flexibility is a good asset to have being a female in combat. Shes been having you learn some gymnastics too, but that isn’t coming as easily as hand to hand stuff.

“Yeah, you know Nat,” you said with a small laugh. “She’d have my butt if I didnt train as hard as I do if shes here when shes gone.” You lean forward, propping yourself up with your elbows on the mat. The cool material feels nice against your exposed stomach. You’re only in a navy sports bra and black athletic leggings. You took your T-shirt off hours ago, along with your shoes and socks. It was getting too hot.

“Yeah, she would.” Peter says with a laugh. He stands up on top of the bar and you can’t help but watch him with a smile on your lips. “You’re pretty amazing, you know that, right?” You ask.

Peter chuckles, walking along the bar like he’s walking on the ground. Its almost effortless for him. You wonder if its a trick of the light, or if you see a faint blush along Peters neck.

“They should call you, the Amazing Spiderman.” you laugh lightly, Peter joining in with you.

“Why are you feeding my ego?” He looks your way and shoots a line of web about a foot away from you, walking down it like a tight rope after securing it to the bar.

“Why are you showing off?” You challenge, pulling yourself out of your straddle. The stretch itself felt nice, and you almost melt coming back into a normal position. You’ll definitely need a hot bubble bath later. “Why are you in your suit anyway?”

“I wanted to talk to Karen about some stuff.” Peter says, not quite looking your way. Its like he’s focusing too hard to not fall but you know for a fact he couple walk down that web with his eyes closed.

“Oookayy… Do you wanna spare before lunch? I haven’t practiced any hand to hand combat since everyone left.” You ask smiling, jumping up to your feet, lightly bouncing in place. You’re eagerly hoping he says yes, not just because its a reason to be close to Peter, but you really want some practice and going against Spiderman seems like a fun challenge.

“Oh, um raincheck?” He says, glancing your way shyly. “I just, Im really hungry and a sandwich sounds really great right now…” Peter rambles as your face falls in disappointment.

“Please? Just a couple rounds, best two out of three? I watched you practicing with Clint last week, so I know you’re a fine partner…” You reach forward and gently grasp Peters wrist in your hand. He looks at both of your guys hands, and his dark eyes travel up and met yours. He’s clearly torn and you can’t understand why.

“Fine, best two out of three.” Peter says after a long moment, he smiles at you but it doesn’t seem to reach his eyes. You hope for whatever reason he isn’t bored with you, being stuck here.

The two of you walk towards the thicker mats, specifically for sparing. You stand facing each other and you wait a moment before starting, waiting to see if Peter puts on his mask. But he doesn’t move to do so. He stands in front of you, nervously switching his weight back and forth.

Taking a deep breath, you move into an offensive position and Peter matches your movements. You make the first move, attempting to place two swift kicks on Peters thigh with your right leg, but he blocks them. You lunge towards him and Peter quickly jumps out of the way.

It continues for a few minutes, you trying to land a punch or kick and Peter either blocks or avoids them altogether. You’re growing frustrated, it’s like he isn’t even trying.

“Common Parker!” You shout after another failed attack. “Why aren’t you fighting back?!”

He answers with a half attempt at a lunge towards you. You easily doge him. You completely lower your guard and just stare at him, angry tears prickle at the corner of your eyes.

“Is it because I’m a girl? Or your bosses daughter? Or both?” You say angrily, you can barely look at him.

“What? N-no, no of course not! Y/N that’s not it, I just….” Peter stutters a loss for words.

“Just forget it… Let’s go get those sandwiches.” You mutter softly, walking past Peter swiftly, trying to ignore the hurt you feel when he can’t give you a straight answer.

You’re almost to the door when you feel something tug you back lightly. You feel the web fibers against your back and another bout of anger washes over you. “Let me go Parker.” You say over your shoulder, you can barely look at him still.

“Let me explain! Please… Y/N I-I…” Peter is by your side, and you turn towards him when he quits stuttering. You raise your eyebrows expectantly, waiting for him to speak again. He’s clearly torn up about something, and in the back of your mind you hope everything is ok, but the thoughts are clouded in frustration. Peters hands are resting on your shoulders, and he drops his head, closing his eyes.

“I can’t fight you… Because I can’t… I can’t imagine hurting you…” He whispers softly, his voice thick with emotion. “With Clint it’s fun and games… Easy to see almost all the other Avengers as a bad guy… Just for a few minutes. But you… Y/N… I can’t fight you. I don’t want to see you hurt, even if it’s just a sparring match. I can’t hurt you. I just can’t…”

As he speaks, all the tension leaves your body and you’re left almost breathless. Why does he have to be so sweet? You still kinda wanna deck him because he’s being stupid. But… Your heart melts and you realize, Parker likes you too.

“You’re so stupid Peter Parker.” You tell him in a whisper, cupping his cheek in your hand, tilting his face back up so you can look him in the eyes. You stand on your toes and bring your lips to his, kissing him softly. “So stupid.” You whisper against his lips, a smile playing along your lips.

“The Avengers jet has just landed Miss Stark.” FRIDAYs voice says throughout the room.

“Thank you FRIDAY.” You say, taking a step back from Peter. “We’ll talk later.” You tell him, and Peter looks much better, like his normal self. He gently pulls the web from your back and the two of you leave the room, almost like nothing happened except both of you are blushing.

——- A/N: A little longer than last one I think. But I’m really happy to be writing again. I need to get better at wrapping up one shots. I tend to drag things out imo.

#mcu imagine #spiderman: homecoming #sm:hc #peter parker #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #my writing #fanfic

[jordan202]

My Boys Drabbles - White Christmas

Thank you @jia911 for taking your time to proofread this.

Here goes a sweet, romantic, overwhelmingly fluffy Christmas story. I hope you guys enjoy it!

The Prompt:

@bluebelle18 asked me to write a sweet Christmas drabble where Amelia would surprise Owen with a very special gift. Thank you for all the support and help you always give me with these stories, there is no way I could ever pay you back :)

Timeline:

This story sets after The Perfect Recipe and before Beneath the Surface. 

My Boys Drabbles – White Christmas

 Owen slowly opened his eyes, trying to regain full consciousness. He felt strangely cold and couldn’t quite figure out why.

His eyes scanned the surroundings of his bedroom and by the nightstand clock on his wife’s side of the bed he noticed it wasn’t even six in the morning. Too uncomfortable to go back to sleep, the trauma surgeon got up and realized why he was feeling so cold. At some point during the night, Amelia had hogged the covers and wrapped only herself in their comfortable duvet. But when Owen walked past the window to go to the bathroom, he gently pulled the curtains and was amazed by what he saw.

Big, thick snowflakes fell from the sky in a white cascade that was too dazzling not to watch. The weather had drastically changed overnight and that explained why the temperature inside the room dropped so suddenly. Winter snow wasn’t exactly rare in Seattle, but it’d been a while since Owen had seen it get this bad. Especially around the holidays. Inches and inches of snow were piled on the streets, rooftops and even on trees. And judging by the wind and the color of the sky, it didn’t look like the storm would give a break any time soon.

It was no wonder Amelia looked like a cinnamon roll wrapped in the blanket, Owen thought with a smile. She was always complaining he didn’t turn the thermostat up to a comfortable temperature and now even he had to admit that at this moment, she had a point.

Already completely awake, Owen gave up returning to bed and instead, settled for going downstairs. He had always been a big fan of Christmas but after becoming a father, the holiday had acquired an even more special meaning. Owen just loved seeing his kids’ happy little faces on Christmas morning and with that thought in mind, he took his time arranging the presents underneath the big tree in the living room.

For the past two weeks, he and Amelia had managed the incredible task of holiday shopping all the while juggling their busy schedules at work and the kids’ end of term at school. But Owen couldn’t complain about it for he loved every minute of that season. And he just couldn’t wait for the moment the kids woke up and see how the living room had transformed overnight.

Owen was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice time passing. Feeling hungry and particularly inspired, he went to the kitchen to make an attempt at breakfast. It was usually Amelia who took care of that meal, but he was hardly ever up before her, so maybe after making sure the kids were in for a surprise when they woke up, Owen could also do something special for his wife too.

 Amelia walked down the stairs, attracted by the amazing smell of hot fresh coffee. She’d woken up to find the bed unusually empty beside her but the biggest surprise had been the snowstorm outside. The neurosurgeon wondered if that would compromise their plans to go for lunch at Evelyn’s house but she didn’t have a lot of time to dwell on it, because once inside the kitchen, she focused completely on the present moment.

Owen was taken by surprise when slender, feminine arms surrounded his waist from behind as a soft body pressed against his.

“What are you doing there?” His wife’s sleepy voice asked at the same time she pulled him closer, touching the side of her face to his back.

Owen gently leaned backwards, covering her arms with his as he slightly turned his head to the side, talking to her over his shoulder.

“Making breakfast for you guys.” He replied before she kissed the skin on the back of his neck.

“I thought that was on me.” She smiled lazily. Amelia knew she was holding him too tightly and practically preventing him from moving around to resume his cooking. But at that moment she wasn’t willing to compromise anything because she felt too comfortable to leave the warmth of his body.

“Well… Merry Christmas.” Owen replied with a chuckle, watching as she laughed along.

“Merry Christmas.” Amelia closed her eyes still smiling. She breathed him in and rejoiced in the familiarity of the scent on his old college shirt. “Can we wake up the kids? I can’t wait for them to see the presents.”

“You know,” Owen gently raised one arm above her and swiftly pulled Amelia from behind him to his front, where he could fully look at her. “Sometimes I wonder who is the biggest kid, you or them.”

“That’s a silly question.” Amelia pretended to be offended but then a huge smile made her adorable dimples move on her cheeks. “Me, of course.”

“Why did I even doubt it?” Owen agreed, delighted. She looked younger and fresher than ever in dark leggings and an oversized sweatshirt making it almost all the way to her knees. He chucked her under the chin and brought her face closer, brushing his lips on hers before resuming his attention to the eggs he was preparing.

Amelia leaned backwards on the counter, soon after sitting on top of it with her legs crossed at the ankles bouncing back and forth.

“Do you think the weather is going to give a break?” She asked her husband while he moved around the kitchen, getting utensils from the cabinets and ingredients from the fridge. Earlier that week, the weather forecast had predicted the possibility of a snowstorm around Christmas time, but no one imagined it would get that bad. “I would hate to miss lunch at your mom’s.”

Owen and Amelia had gone to New York a few times to spend the holidays with her family, but they’d usually stay in Seattle and either have Evelyn over or go up to her house to be with the rest of the Hunt family. That year, a few of Owen’s cousins were supposed to go to his mother’s house for lunch too, but after taking another look at the heavy clouds outside, the neurosurgeon realized there was a big chance they’d have to change plans.

“I don’t know,” Owen frowned and looked over the window, preoccupied. It looked like the storm had gotten worse ever since he’d woken up that morning and he wasn’t sure how safe it’d be to drive through the streets in those conditions. “Let’s check the news.”

Amelia went to the living room and turned on the TV, being soon followed by her husband who arrived with two plates in his hands. Owen noticed it was a little before eight in the morning and yet the street outside still looked dark and damp.

“I can’t believe we’re snowed in.” Amelia sighed, catching Owen’s attention.

He looked at her and couldn’t help chuckling at his wife’s frustrated expression. Amelia sat on the smallest couch with her feet propped on it, giving him a lazy pout as she caught up with the weather updates on the news.

“It could still get better.” Owen tried to sound encouraging, taking a sip from his coffee.

“Babe, they just said we should expect eight inches of snow. That’s gotta be a record.” Amelia said, bothered with the idea. She was really looking forward to going to her mother in law’s and she had a particular good reason for that. “The kids are going to be disappointed.”

Owen very suggestively looked at the pile of presents underneath the tree and then back at his wife, raising one eyebrow in defiance to her latest statement.

“Yeah, point taken.” She agreed with his silent argument. “I love it that you took the time to put all the presents there already.” Amelia teasingly blew him a kiss. “It’s very neat.” She went on making fun of Owen’s orderliness tendencies.

Her husband was very organized and it was no surprise the wrapped boxes were perfectly placed underneath the tree. Amelia wondered if Owen consciously stacked them in proportional distances or if it was something that naturally came to him after so much time being a disciplined military man.

“If I left it up to you, the presents wouldn’t even be here at this point.” He scowled, knowing very well how impatient Amelia was to properly wrap each toy.

Owen expected a witty comeback but instead, his wife simply blew steam off her coffee, looking at him over the mug with an expression that mixed playfulness and mischief. He noticed her wiggling toes under the colorful socks and couldn’t hold back a smile. Amelia loved Christmas and she was always excited about it.

“Are you curious to find out what I got for you?” He asked from his couch opposite the TV, looking to the side to be facing her.

“I know what you got for me.” Amelia smiled widely, half lying, half sitting on her sofa. She saw the raised eyebrow on her husband’s face and chuckled, too relaxed to bother hiding she wasn’t serious.

Owen noticed her loose façade and genuinely smiled, well aware she had no idea.

“Well?” He playfully challenged her. “What is it, then?”

Amelia kept staring at him with mirth in her eyes and then gave in, heartily laughing at his overly suspicious expression.

“Your undying love and affection?” Amelia attempted, watching as her husband cracked up laughing.

“You already have that.” He slightly tilted his head to the side, looking at her with a loving gaze before it was replaced by a smug one. “Just admit it you have no idea what you’re getting.”

Amelia smiled with genuine contentment. Owen was teasing her, but he had no idea what he was in for.

Even though every year they went out together to shop for the kids, it wasn’t uncommon that both Owen and Amelia got each other’s presents and kept the surprise. The year before, Owen had surprised his wife with a new laptop computer. At the time, the present had come in very handy because their twin sons had spilled chocolate milk all over her keyboard while watching a cartoon on Netflix. Amelia had been grateful for this thoughtfulness and she’d hoped to be able to return the consideration but it was very rare for Owen to actually need something, considering how well he took care of his stuff.

The idea had then surged after a particularly slow day in the ER a few weeks before. At the time, Amelia had been paged for a consult. The patient was a former athlete who’d been hit on the head and briefly lost consciousness while coaching kids. After talking to the man for a few minutes, Amelia had found out he was actually a former player for the team her husband and kids were so crazy about and when the guy told her about the highlight of his career, she instantly recalled a memory Owen had once shared with her years before.

Amelia wasn’t a sports person all that much, but she particularly remembered one of the few moments Owen had ever let his guard down enough to talk about his childhood. They had been discussing what to do for Christmas and as she recalled the happiest holidays of her life, all of which had been spent after settling down with Owen in Seattle, he’d asked her about the few Christmases Amelia had spent in New York with her family as a young child. The neurosurgeon confessed she didn’t remember much, but she had a very good recollection of one holiday she’d spent with her father and the moment he’d picked her up to put her a bright star on top of the tree.

If Amelia closed her eyes, she could still vividly hear her beloved father’s rich voice calling her his “Tiny Hurricane” as he had fun with her perseverance to reach the highest spot on their living room huge Christmas tree. But those memories weren’t in Amelia’s mind at the moment. Instead, she was thinking about how Owen had followed up her confession with one of his own.

Her husband had also lost his father at a very young age, but he rarely talked about how that had affected his life or made him feel. Amelia knew that while she had a hard time hiding how much the loss of a parent had turned her life upside down in the cruelest way, Owen had taken to himself the task of looking after his mother and sister and simply move on. But he had been only a nine year old boy at the time and Amelia knew it was way too much for a kid to handle.

She remembered the shy smile on his face when he’d told her about the happiest childhood memory he had. On the eve of the last Christmas Owen would ever spend with his father, the man had taken him to a football game. According to her husband, the moment had been special not only because it had been his father’s last Christmas, but also because it was the first ever playoff game their team had ever been a part of. Owen had described to her how happy he felt to see his team winning but mostly, to witness that historic moment in the company of his father.

From that day forward, Amelia had gained a whole new understanding of why the sport and that team mattered so much to her husband, to the point of affecting his mood and contaminating even their children. And as she examined him going through the channels on the TV, unsuccessfully looking for something interesting to watch on that Christmas morning, a flash of a memory came to her mind.

 “Mr. Hughes?” Amelia made sure the guy was the patient she was supposed to see. “I see here on your file you had a trauma to the head while at work?”

“Yes,” a built middle-aged man with a radiant smile had welcomed her into the exam room. “I was just teaching one of the guys how to properly tackle a lineman when this klutzy kid ran into me and tackled me himself.” The senior guy laughed with forbearance. “I hit my head and felt dizzy. That’s why I came here.”

Amelia spent the following minutes collecting a history and examining the patient. He looked alright to her, but just to make sure, she’d ordered a head CT. And while they waited for the result, she remembered finding the guy’s history intriguing enough to make her want to ask:

“So, you coach football?” Amelia smiled, running her eyes on the screen before her.

“Yeah. High school kids.” The man nodded, proud of his work. “But I am a former player myself.”

“Oh, really?” Amelia had distractedly continued the conversation, too focused on examining the scans. “My husband is a die hard Seahawk fan.”

“I played for the Seahawks.” The guy smiled broadly at her, anticipating her reaction.

Amelia had a fun time laughing at the coincidences of life but just as she was about to discharge Mr. Hughes, his age on the files had caught her attention and she heard herself asking before she could contain it.

“Mr. Hughes.” Amelia laughed to herself to realize she had by accident become one of those people who stored football information like an encyclopedia. “Have you by any chance played in the Seahawks team that made to the Playoffs for the first time?”

The guy gave her a smug look, assuming the young surgeon in front of him was a big football fan too.

“If I played?” He smirked, too proud to hide it. “I scored the last touchdown in our first ever playoff game against the Denver Broncos.” The man smiled at her, gloating.

Amelia felt her heart racing as a crazy idea formed in her head. It was too much a coincidence that this guy had walked into her hospitals and been seen by her, of all neurosurgeons.

“Was it the Christmas Eve game?” She attempted, biting her lower lip to contain her excitement.

The guy mistook her reaction by fan admiration and held his head high, puffing out his chest.

“That very same one, young lady. We won thirty one to seven.”

“Yes, I know.” She smiled widely, thinking back about the day Owen had told her about this game and how he’d gone with his father. “I remember.”

“Aren’t you a bit too young to remember it?” The guy raised an eyebrow, suspicious.

Amelia stopped articulating a plan inside her mind and looked back at the guy, determined to make it happen. Judging by the smile on his face and how proud he felt to have his achievements recognized, she supposed he’d be up for what she was conjecturing.

“Mr. Hughes, I know you’re discharged but if you don’t mind sticking around, I’d love to buy you coffee.” Amelia smiled, charmingly guiding the guy outside the exam room. “I have a very special request for you...”

 “Amelia?”

Her husband’s voice brought the neurosurgeon back to the present moment and Amelia blinked twice before making eye contact with him.

“Hm, yeah?” she asked, embarrassed to admit she had no idea how long he’d been trying to get her attention.

“Come here look at this.” Owen’s voice resonated in the large living room and it was only then Amelia noticed he’d gone to stand by the window. “I know the snow is going to ruin our plans but we can’t deny it looks beautiful outside.”

Amelia dropped her forgotten mug with now cold coffee on the table and went in his direction, pulling the drapes even further to have the same view.

“Oh… wow.”

The scenery outside was indeed breathtaking and she smiled with contentment, wrapping one arm around Owen’s hips as she moved closer to him.

“We really are snowed in.” He stated, now utterly convinced.

“Yes…” Amelia smiled. At first she had rejected the idea but now that there was no alternative other than to accept the reality, she might as well enjoy it.

She collected the dirty dishes of their breakfast and took them the kitchen. By the time she made it back, Owen was resting on the couch watching an old Friends episode re run. As she passed through the Christmas tree, Amelia couldn’t help laughing at the insane amount of presents. As a rule, she and Owen hardly ever bought their kids stuff or stimulated them to be great consumers, choosing instead to place value on what they were rather than what they had. But at the same time, the two of them had a fairly comfortable financial situation, so they tended to go a bit overboard in the few occasions they allowed themselves to buy presents for their kids, such as birthdays and Christmases.

“Hey, did you get the twins that racket thing they were pestering about?” Amelia walked past him. For the past month, their six year old sons wouldn’t stop talking about the set.

“I did, but I am curious to see how they’ll try it out with this weather,” Owen pointed out.

“And did you remember it had to be in…”

“Green, yes, I remembered.” Owen finished the sentence for her, earning an adorable smile in response.

Amelia unceremoniously lay next to him, taking up all the space available.

“But you still don’t know what I got for you.” He teased, turning his neck to make eye contact with her while his wife moved next to him.

“I am pretending I don’t.” Amelia laughed. She had her back turned to the TV, completely facing her husband instead.

“You’re pretending you do.” He corrected her, too pleased with the soft hand that played with the collar of his shirt.

“I know what you got me,” she smiled mischievously. “It’s just what I needed,” Amelia added with a naughty grin, seeing the doubt in his eyes. “It’s a week off somewhere in the Caribbean. A break from everything. Seven days, only to myself…” the neurosurgeon laughed at her husband’s expression. “No kids, no Owen, no snow…” Amelia joked, loving that she had surprised him and her husband obviously didn’t have a witty comeback to that. “Just me and the sun and a lot of free time to do only what I want.”

“You already do only what you want.” Owen reminded her, playfully pulling one of her thighs to the top of his hips as he trapped her in his embrace.

“That’s true.” Amelia laughed in return, unable to hide his gentle bites were tickling the sensitive skin of her neck.

“Are you serious, though?” Owen asked, too confused to make sense of the situation. “Do you really want some time off alone? Because I had no idea that’s how you felt and I…”

His words were interrupted when familiar lips seized control of his own at the same time Amelia moved to his top, straddling his hips. Once his wife pulled apart, Owen saw the large smile on her face, added to a loving look in her eyes.

“Does it look like I want a break from you?” She asked as she bent to touch her forehead to his.

“No.” Owen smiled when her arms wrapped around his neck. “It looks like you want something else from me.”

Amelia threw her head back in a fit of laughter, unaware of how much that vision was pleasing her husband. He moved up on the couch just enough to sit back against the pillows, comfortably keeping her on his lap.

“You are cute,” Amelia playfully held his face between her hands, talking to him as if he were a child. She was still facing opposite the TV, but the neurosurgeon had watched that show so many times that she knew exactly which episode of Friends was on. “Oh my God, it’s the Christmas Armadillo!” Amelia laughed with anticipation, turning on his lap to finally face the television.

For the next minutes, she settled for watching the re run, having fun with it while playing with Owen’s fingers between her hands. The episode was almost over when a sleepy figure came down the stairs, surprised to find both her parents lazily lying down on the couch that Christmas morning.

“Good morning, sweetheart… Come here,” Amelia’s face showed how happy to see the child as she opened her arms to welcome their three-year old daughter.

Megan did as told, yawning on her way there, but as she passed through the presents under the tree, her eyes grew bigger with fascination.

“Santa was here!” The little girl celebrated, smiling from ear to ear as she reached her parents.

“He was,” Owen had fun with her innocence. Lucas and Thomas were already old enough not to buy the Santa idea anymore, but Megan and the twins still believed in it and Owen had to admit he loved that.

“Can we open the presents, dad?” Megan asked cheerfully, making herself comfortable on her father’s lap.

“You got to wait for your brothers.” Amelia smiled, leaning over to give her child an affectionate kiss on the head.

“Can we wake up the boys, then?” Megan reformulated her question, too excited to hide it.

Her parents weren’t surprised with her plot and laughed at the smart question.

“You be a good girl and let them rest for a while longer, okay?” Amelia replied after noticing it was a bit past nine in the morning. “I am sure they will be up soon.”

As Amelia had predicted, all four boys were up earlier than usual due to Christmas excitement. She was finishing making them pancakes for breakfast when she heard Owen explaining why they couldn’t go to their grandmother’s that day.

“What do you mean, we can’t go to Grandma’s? What about lunch?” Lucas asked, utterly alarmed. “What about Christmas lunch?!” The ten-year old boy looked from his father to his siblings, looking for support. “It’s the best meal of all, I look forward to this day all year long!”

Owen interrupted his task of picking up plates and cups for the kids in the cabinets and looked back at his oldest son, trying to hide his amused smile.

“Maybe mom can cook this year.”

Lucas’ scowl of disappointment transformed into one of absolute horror.

“What?”

“Dad is joking.” Thomas pointed out, laughing at his brother’s expense.

“He better be.” Lucas breathed in, noticing as their mother turned around from the stove and looked at them, extremely offended. “Christmas lunch is not something you joke about, Dad.” The boy added, reprimanding his father with a steel gaze.

“You know what, since dad is obviously the preferred cook, maybe he should take over breakfast.” Amelia suggested with a scowl, playfully sticking out her tongue in her husband’s direction when the kids couldn’t see her.

“Nooo, mom, your pancakes are the best. I want your pancakes!” Robbie intervened, oblivious to the bantering atmosphere around. “Please?”

Her son’s honest compliment made Amelia forget all about Owen and Lucas’ predicament. A while later, they finally gathered in the living room to open the presents and that was her favorite moment of the morning. Her kids’ happy little faces were always her favorite vision. And amongst piles of toys, costumes and sports gear, she finally got to find out what her husband had gotten for her.

Owen noticed the puzzled expression on her face as Amelia untied the knot to the small green box and then unwrapped it.

“What’s this?” Amelia narrowed her eyes, looking from the cute device that looked like a phone to her husband’s expectant gaze. She was having a hard time accepting that even after she’d gotten her present, she still had no idea what it was.

“You see this little play button right here?” Owen took a step in her direction to be heard, aware the kids were making a big mess around them with their new toys. Amelia nodded affirmatively in response, smiling with a mix of curiosity and excitement to find out the object wasn’t exactly a phone. “Click on it,” he instructed.

As she did so, Amelia’s smile grew wider when she heard the voice of her oldest son coming out of the device. With a startled expression, she looked from it to Owen, noticing how proud he looked.

“Just listen,” he answered, reading the unspoken question in her eyes.

For the following seconds, Amelia heard the record of Lucas narrating a familiar children’s book. When Owen noticed she’d recognized it, he skipped to the next file and this time around, Amelia heard another known voice reading a different book, only this time it was Thomas. Figuring it out, she skipped to the other files, delighted to find out each one of their kids had recorded their favorite story followed by a sweet message, even Megan who couldn’t even read yet.

“This is so absolutely amazing,” she smiled widely at her husband, stepping on the tip of her toes to give him a kiss on the lips. “How did you get this, where did you…?”

Owen breathed in the scent of her hair, far too amazed that she was genuinely enjoying his gift.

“Well, every night I see you reading your favorite books to them.” He shared, unable to hide how much that was special to him. “It soothes them, the kids love it and so do I,” he confessed, gently holding her chin between his finger and thumb. “So I thought, maybe you’d like to have them read the stories to you for a change. And now you can keep it and listen to it whenever you want.”

Amelia pulled him in for a tight hug, expressing with her actions how much she’d loved his thoughtful gift. Owen also gave her a cute gold bracelet and a box with her favorite brand of chocolate.

“Now it’s your turn.” Amelia smiled from ear to ear, picking from under the tree one of the few presents left. “Guys, come here.” She summoned her kids, wondering how they’d been able to keep the secret of the recorded books from her.

Owen noticed how anxious his wife looked and instantly figured out he was in for a surprise. The kids looked very excited too, so he winked at Megan, who looked at him with a large smile before he focused on the present in his hands.

“Ohh,” The trauma surgeon’s eyes got wide with appreciation when he saw what the package contained. “A Seahawks Jersey from the eighties…” He looked at his children with a wide grin. “Look, guys, that’s Krieg, number 17. He was the starting quarterback for the Hawks when I was your age.” Owen looked up and met his wife’s eyes. “I cant believe you found this. It’s amazing, babe, thank you.”

The kids reacted just as Owen had anticipated and he was too caught up telling them about the team that his wife had to slightly raise her voice to be heard.

“Babe,” Amelia stood beside him and gently caressed the hair on the back of his head as she looked from him to the Jersey. “Did you look on the inside to read what it says?”

Owen frowned in response, without the slightest clue what she was talking about. Flipping over the object, he looked for any kind of inscription that might be there and it was then that his eyes found dark letters that had been added with a permanent marker. To his delight, Owen recognized the signature of Dave Krieg, the starting quarterback who’d been an important part of his childhood. And next to it, a small handwritten note that completely threw him off his game.

Owen,

This is the Jersey I wore on the game that got the Seahawks through our first ever playoff game. I know you were there with your dad that Christmas eve and I appreciate your support. Have a Merry Christmas and Go Hawks!

Best wishes,

Dave Krieg, 17.

 Owen took a few seconds longer than usual to process the meaning of the whole gesture. Amelia thought it was a good thing her husband was sitting down, for Owen looked like he’d seen a ghost. Frowning heavily, he looked at his wife, knowing she could see he had a thousand questions in his eyes.

“Is this for real?” He managed to say after long seconds of hesitation. “Are you serious?”

“It’s very real,” Amelia replied with a giggle, having fun with how exasperated her husband looked.

Owen picked up the shirt again, holding the object like it was as fragile as crystal.

At that point, their kids had already gone back to their own presents and Amelia had to contain Danny and Robbie from destroying the house with a green racket each.

“But… How?” he looked up to find his wife’s loving eyes. “When? How did you do this?”

After looking around to make sure their kids couldn’t listen, Amelia bent down and whispered in her husband’s ear and replied to his question.

“I had to sleep with a few people,” she teased with a glowing smile. “Totally worth it, though.”

“Amelia!”

She laughed heartily and sat down by her husband’s side, briefly explaining how she’d come to treat a guy who’d played on the team and how he’d been able to pull a few strings and get her the jersey. After his initial shock had passed, Owen felt an immense gratitude for the lengths his wife had gone through to get him the present, and how amazing she had been to remember a story he’d long before shared with her.

“You’re amazing,” he told her, not the first time. Owen took another look at the shirt, thinking back about his father and how happy they’d both been on that winter day. “Come here.”

Amelia felt her husband’s arms tightly wrapping around her waist and she whispered loving words in his ears. They were just about to pull apart when the kids jumped in, making it a collective hug at the same time they loudly demanded their parents’ attention.

“Do you like the new videogames?” Amelia kissed Thomas’ hair and ruffled his hair affectionately before looking at the game in his hands. “Is it what you wanted?”

“It is, mom, thanks,” the boy replied, visibly satisfied.

“You have to thank Santa,” Megan corrected her brother, not letting go of the three cute dolls she was trying to hold at the same time. “Right, mom?”

“You’re right,” Thomas acquiesced to his sister’s reprimand. “Of course. I am sorry, Santa.” He said, before playfully rolling his eyes when Megan looked away.

For the rest of the day, Amelia had fun playing with her kids as they explored the new gifts they’d gotten that morning. Owen cooked them lunch and in the afternoon, when the storm gave a break after inches of snow were already gathered on the floor, she laughed at her sons’ failed attempt to orchestrate a snowball fight when their feet couldn’t even make it to the ground outside.

Amelia used one of the art craft kits the children had gotten to skillfully crop five different stars. She instructed the kids to write their wishes on each one and then hang them on the tree. When the neurosurgeon realized Megan was struggling to reach the high place the little girl had aimed for, she stepped up to pick up her daughter and helped her put the star on the highest branch, smiling to think that years before, she had been the little girl to go for the top of the tree.

After having a blast reading the wishes the boys had written on their stars, Amelia followed Owen upstairs and they helped the little ones get ready for bed. She couldn’t remember the last time she and Owen had spent the entire day with the kids inside their house and she figured out that that Christmas could very well be added to their list of favorite holiday memories.

“I can’t stand that movie anymore,” Amelia whispered in her husband’s ear, careful not to make too much noise. They were in the couple’s king size bed, surrounded by their five children who made themselves comfortable as they watched Home Alone on the TV. “How many times have we had to watch it? Half a dozen?”

“More, I think,” Owen looked at her, watching the way her eyes glowed in the dark. He looked around and noticed all five kids were half way to sleep, especially Megan who could barely keep her eyes open. “By the way, babe… thank you for everything.”

Amelia noticed in the change of his tone that Owen was speaking from his heart. She turned her head to the side and discreetly gave him a peck on the lips, grateful for the man she’d married and everything he meant to her.

“You don’t have to thank me,” she looked around at their kids, very suggestively. “I didn’t make them alone, you know?”

Owen chuckled and waited until her smile slowly vanished to add.

“I wasn’t talking about the kids. I meant the presents,” he explained, noticing in her eyes that she was well aware of that. “But thanks for the kids too, I guess.” Owen made eye contact with her, grinning widely.

Amelia took a deep breath and searched for his hand in the darkness of the room. She gave his knuckles a kiss before revealing.

“Ever since the day you told me about that Christmas, I realized how you rarely talk about your dad,” Amelia said, hoping not to upset him. Owen wasn’t very comfortable letting his walls down and she knew it. They were having a lovely day, so she didn’t want to force him into anything. “But then I saw the opportunity to make that memory even more special and I just couldn’t let it pass.”

“What do you mean?” Owen asked with curiosity, touched by her consideration.

“Well, it’s just that…” Amelia breathed in and out before looking into his eyes, “this jersey represents how special that Christmas with your dad was, right? So it got me thinking…” she confessed after seeing he agreed with her assumption. “Maybe some day you can wear it to a game on Christmas and take our kids... So that the best Christmas you’ve had when you were a boy could become our kids’ version of their happiest Christmas too.”

Owen processed her words, emotionally moved by her confession.

“That is very sweet,” he leaned over to kiss her, knowing in his heart that Amelia was the woman of his dreams. “Thank you, babe.” Owen wrapped one arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer, feeling Amelia’s back gently colliding against his chest. He looked around and noticed the kids had already fallen asleep, all five too tired after the long day they’d had. “There is only one thing we got to add to that to make it the best moment, though.” He said, nibbling her ear before starting a trail of kisses on the column of her neck.

“Yeah?” Amelia raised her eyebrows, interested.

“You gotta be there too.”

She turned her head on the curve of his arm and looked up to find his expressive blue eyes.

“You can count on it,” Amelia affirmed, getting an affectionate smile in response. They moved on to the exhausting task of taking all the kids to bed and only after they were done, Amelia was able to properly lie down on her bed and relax. “Today’s been a good day.”

“It has,” Owen agreed, crashing beside her. She didn’t even need to look at him to notice how exhausted he was, because his voice already gave it away.

“Do you know what would make it even better?”

Owen frowned, looking at her with the same questioning eyes she’d just gazed him with moments before. Amelia was obviously up to something, or she wouldn’t be biting her lower lip like that.

“You know how we were watching that Friends episode earlier today and there was this Santa Claus costume that…”

“You can’t be serious,” Owen interrupted her, already laughing too much. On the episode Amelia was referring to, one of the characters asked her husband to keep a Santa Claus costume to be later used in the bedroom.

Amelia saw the amusement in her eyes and went further, determined to torment him. She rolled over in his direction and seductively blinked before whispering against his ear, knowing her words would be properly interpreted by her husband.

“I was a very good girl this year.”

Owen laughed at her shameless provocation and propped his head on his elbow, turning sideways to face her.

“You’re never good,” he reminded her.

“Ohh.” Amelia’s devilish smile made another appearance and Owen instantly realized he was in for another round of pestering. “I guess you’re going to have to do something about that, then.”

Owen laughed loudly, unable to hide how much he enjoyed her company. After kissing her lips, he placed one lock of hair behind her ear, gently caressing the side of her face with his knuckles as he looked into her eyes.

“So, which one is it going to be?” he narrowed his eyes and saw the way she laughed at his pretend seriousness. “Are you in need of a naughty Santa Claus or a disciplinary spanking?”

Amelia laughed her heart out, wrapping both arms around his neck to pull her husband closer for another kiss. She knew she was a handful, but what amused her the most was how positively Owen responded to that. There was no one else she’d rather spend that Christmas night with.

“You are all in one,” she let him know, looking at her husband with the loving eyes of someone who knew how fortunate she was. Amelia relaxed against her pillow, feeling the weight of Owen’s body on hers right before he kissed her neck, making her forget all about her playful fantasies. “Merry Christmas, babe.”

Owen looked up to see her eyes and smiled one last time before losing himself in the comfort of her arms. He’d had some pretty amazing Christmas memories throughout his life. But after Amelia had come to his life, she’d somehow manage to make that time of year have an even more special meaning to him. And he loved her for it.

“Merry Christmas.”

  ---

fact check: Dave Krieg really was the starter QB who led the Seahawks on their first ever playoff game (and playoff win!) against the Denver Broncos. And the timeline does fit Owen being a kid at the time before losing his father :) Everything I wrote about football history in this Drabble wasn’t made up, it really happened !

  Merry Christmas everyone! and Go Hawks!

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