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charliethomascoxuniverse · 2 years

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Interview with Charlie Cox and Wes Bentley

by Nobuhiro Hosoki - 01 February 2012 (X)

Story : London-based investigative journalist Robert Torres (Dougray Scott) visits Spain to research a book about Josemaría Escrivá (Cox), the controversial founder of Opus Dei. But Robert hits a wall, both professionally and personally, when his most promising source—his own father, Manolo Torres (Bentley), turns out to be his least cooperative one.

(Q): We were asking them before a little bit about your background and experience to the characters and what kind of research you did. (Q): I heard that your father is the minister, right? So you had the background that you had some of that relationship with your parents. Wes Bentley: Both my parents are Methodist preachers. In fact, in my extended family are quite a few preachers. My mother is remarried to a former Catholic priest, my brother's a preacher, my grandfather's an Evangelist; so I'm surrounded. Charlie Cox: They've got you cornered. Wes Bentley: Yeah, I'm cornered. (Q): Here you are a heathen. Wes Bentley: Obviously I've not just had them to fall back on and to ask questions, but I knew a lot just from my youth and growing up in church. My mom actually when they offered it to me she read the script as well. My parents are great because they're not only preachers they're both historians of everything they study, including the church, so they know a lot about it and have a lot to say. Charlie Cox: I was raised Catholic. (Q): So then you really have roots in this. What did this show you or enlighten you or not? Charlie Cox: Yeah, I was raised Catholic and I spent the best part of my school years trying to find ways and means of getting out of going to services, as all of us did. I've had kind of a funny journey since then. I've always been curious. I have a lot friends who kind of finished school and then never went to church ever again, and that wasn't quite my experience. I always kind of went back. I've also been very interested and read a lot about other religions as well and found that fascinating.

And my journey, of which the making of this movie has been a massive part of, has been revealing in many ways. It's a hard thing to talk about because it is so personal, and also because it's one of those things that you're so aware of how much it changes and has changed in the course of a week, let alone a year or a month. So it's something that I don't feel incredibly comfortable talking about because I know that that then goes into print and suddenly that's your opinion and view, and a week down the line I have a very different opinion and view. (Q): How'd you both get cast in the film? What was it about your character that made you say yes? Charlie Cox: I needed a job. I'll be honest with you. I really needed a job at the time. (Q): You weren't on the street begging. Charlie Cox: I wasn't on the street begging, no. I said yes primarily because of Roland. I had met with him, "The Mission" was one of my favorite films, and I loved "The Killing Fields" as well. I met with him, the audition process was to this day the greatest audition experience I've had. I remember ringing up my agent and saying "Okay, the script is currently a bit iffy and a bit all over the place, and I'm not sure what it wants to be, but I'll go wherever he is if he wants me to." (Q): And yourself? Wes Bentley: Basically the same thing verbatim. Same thing; I needed a job and I needed a good job. Or I needed a job and I wanted it to be a good job, please god. And then I get this script and to meet with Roland and I thought that can't be right, but I went and it was Roland.

And "The Mission" was huge for me as a kid too. It took a while because they were getting their money together, so I thought it may have disappeared, and then I was just so thankful when I got the phone call. And it was at a time when nobody was really working, so to have not only a film that you're in and getting to work, but a film with a good budget like this, it felt like a miracle. Charlie Cox: It really did actually, it really did. I'd forgotten that, but that's exactly right, it was at that time when no one was working. That was the only kind of redeeming factor of that period of that year was that no one was working. (Q): Did either of you feel a little bit cautious or intimidated by the fact that there was a faith component to this film, that the Catholic church is a big part of the theme, that perhaps that was something that would be a turn off to somebody?

Wes Bentley: Yeah, naturally. The thing about it is you can't please everybody, that's the nature of anything, including film. The fact that Josemaria was so controversial, and I don't know much about that. I only know now what I learned from the film about the beginnings of Opus Dei and a bit about stuff after that. Since it didn't affect my life personally I don't know it in detail.

But the film's not really like that. Like I said, the film is really just about the beginnings of Opus Dei. I think some people were actually frustrated by that; they wanted to see more about the controversy, when in fact the focus isn't even there. It's more about Josemaria's passion and calling as far as this aspect of the film goes, and how he maintained that passion and calling through a way, a very violent war. (Q): The whole work ethic, what Opus Dei stands for; is that something that you got something from? Did you take something from the movie that you're able to apply to your own life or that maybe reminded you of something that you've already done in your life? Or did it reinforce something or not? Charlie Cox: Yeah, I think that's true of most jobs. You learn something, whether it be a skill or something. But yeah, learning about Josemaria and the reading I did around his life and the little things he would do. Not the major events in his life that he's known for, but the little ticks that are most interesting for an actor who's preparing to play the role have taught me a huge amount, a great deal, and some of them have stayed with me today. (Q): Can you give me an example? Wes Bentley : One of the things is this idea, he had a word for it, but it was this idea, and it sounds quite abstract, and it was explained to me in a way by an Opus Dei priest, who was on the set with us who's to this day the most open minded man I've ever met in my entire life, which is ironic, considering he's an Opus Dei priest. We would sit down and tell him dirty jokes and try and shock him and he would howl with laughter. (Q): He probably could drink you under the table. Charlie Cox: I don't know if he could do that. We traveled through Spain together on this retreat when I was preparing for the role, and we had a few nights where we'd stay up late talking. Josemaria used to do this thing where he would offer up, it wasn't penance, but he would offer up discomfort or forms of discomfort and offer it up to god. But when it was explained to me he would do it not just for god, but he would do it to condition and to help himself wean himself off the grips of desire. And it's a practice, so for example every Thursday night he wouldn't sleep in his bed. In fact, every Thursday night he wouldn't sleep.

He would stay up all night on a Thursday night. And again, I know I'm not going to be able to explain it in the way it was explained to me, and it can sound a bit wacky, but little things, tiny things. If you're making a meal for you and your friend or you and your girlfriend and you can't help but notice one of them has more than the other plate, it's just worked out that way, and you know for damn sure which one you're getting.

Just a little thing like that. And what I'll do now is I'll notice that in the moment and I'll flip it, and I won't say anything. It's a tiny thing, but if you practice that all through your day it becomes other things like when you go to the loo in a club and the loo is gross, and so you think well why should I do anything about it because it was gross when I came in. And you think you know what, I'll do my bit. It's little things like that that you don't necessarily talk about except in press apparently. (Q): So you've been cleaning up the loos. Charlie Cox: Charlie Cox enjoys cleaning loos in New York clubs. (Q): Could you talk about how you guys tapped into the accent and how you played an old man? Wes Bentley: The accent was very tricky and much discussed because we had so many different actors from all over the world; Argentinean, Spanish, English, American. I can't count Olga because she was doing a Hungarian accent, but Rodrigo, Brazilian. We were all trying to match up a Spanish accent that was somewhat similar and it was very tricky. We had one dialect coach between all of us for her to run around and try to keep us all together. We debated whether there would be an accent or not and finally decided there would be one, but it was a lot of work. Charlie Cox: We're also not doing an accent that exists, which is tricky. If an English person speaks Spanish they stumble over words, but we're speaking English in a Spanish accent as if we're speaking in our native tongue. And it's been done before; famously they did it recently in "Valkyrie," and they did it in "Schindler's List."

But interesting enough they didn't do it in "The Mission." I was against it actually early on. The problem was with the Argentinean and Spanish actors, because they can't do an English or an American accent, and if you've got them sounding Spanish. In many ways why "Valkyrie" didn't work for me was because the accents were all over the place.

Wes Bentley: And the makeup was very difficult, a lot of work, a lot of physical work, a lot of emotional work. And I stayed in it all day and I don't do that as an actor, I don't stay in character in all day, but for this old man I had to. It was the most difficult thing I've ever done.

(Q): Did you two figure out a way of working together? In other words, some people keep themselves separate, some people work together, some people discuss their character, some people don't in terms of developing your parts that are complementing each other and interacting with each other at different points.

Wes Bentley: Did we rehearse with each other? (Q): Yeah I mean how did you talk to each other about your characters? Did you discuss it, did you keep it separate? Charlie Cox: We just became friends really. I know what you mean. I don't really buy into that thing as an actor where there's certain information you shouldn’t have because the character wouldn't have it. That's not acting to me really. I respect people who do that, it's fine, but often you'll find it's people who haven't done much theater work.

I've worked with actors who don't like to rehearse, they want to turn up and they want to just say it, and often you'll get a really good performance. But the trick with acting is to be able to do that and then do it again and then do it again, and do it twice a day on a Wednesday and twice a day on a Saturday, and it 250 times over the course of four months and keep it fresh each time. That's the real trick. (Q): What's next for both of you? Wes Bentley: We worked intensely together with Roland in fact. And Roland was great because we had a lot of childhood history that we had to build and it's difficult in a week and a half, but Roland was great because he had a lot in stock and he would kind of feed it to us in these sessions where we'd turn the lights off and turn on music and just start talking about history between us, and that worked.

And then we worked on scenes intensely. And I agree with Charlie, everything he said about acting. I think you have to kind of be open and talk about the whole thing. It's not just you and your character, it's the whole project. The movie's called "Gone" and it's with Amanda Seyfried. And then I'm doing something else I don't know if I can say yet. (Q): Who directed "Gone"?

Wes Bentley: A Brazilian director named Heitor Dhalia. Charlie Cox: I'm currently doing "Boardwalk Empire." It's great fun and it's interesting because I've only ever done theater and film before, so you get a script, you know what scenes you're in, you know what's required of you, I can tear up the script and make an arc and choose which moments I'm going to lose it. You can construct a performance. But on this show I got given two audition scenes and I had a brief conversation with one of the writers and he was like "This is what we're thinking."

And then as the show's gone on just every two weeks I'll get sides for the next episode and I'll be like "Oh okay, so this is what my character's like." I'm having to piece it together as we film it and it's actually in some ways very freeing, but in other ways it's like "Ooh, well if I'd have known that when I filmed episode two I wonder if I'd have done the same."

~End.

#some interesting stuff in here 👀✨#Charlie talking about his theatre experience and the way its shaped him as an actor #reminds me of how the director of Stone of Destiny commented that Charlie never gives the same performance twice #and it makes SO much sense considering his theatre background and all the additional skills he learned through it #and of course there's also something to be said for the difference classical training in Britain makes vs acting in America #where so many American actors simply don't have the same level of technical skills...and it shows tbh most of the time #my random ramblings #charlie cox #josemaria escriva #wes bentley #there be dragons #interview

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remakethestars · 3 years

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Being Damian Wayne's Twin Sister Would Include:

Headcanons.

❝Exactly. I don't ask my dog to drive, and I don't ask the Justice League to solve my problems.❞

— Damian Wayne, Adventures of the Super Sons #9: Showdown on Hexworld

TRIGGER WARNING: Cursing, (Damian’s) death. Mentions of toxic masculinity and internalized misogyny, nightmares, blood, knives.

Headcanon masterlist.

When people ask you, “So, which one of you is the evil twin?” Damian always glowers, and you always motion to him.

You look disturbingly alike when only your eyes are showing; Damian’s got long lashes. Talia taught you a good tactic for tag-teaming in combat as kids was to pull up your hinged balaclavas and make the enemy think there was only one of you, that they’re seeing double.

Or for one of you to hang back while the other attacks as a distraction before the other knocks them out from behind.

Obviously, this won’t work when the two of you start filling out, but it works when you’re kids. It’s the reason why, even off the field, the two of you usually wear a matching outfits with hoods.

You utilize the same methods when she sends you to live with Bruce.

You don the Robin costume just like he does, much to the rest of the Batfam’s confusion (both because they weren’t expecting it and because they can’t tell you apart either), but sticking with the “red” theme, you go by Redstart.

There’s a rumor on the street that Robin V. is a meta that can teleport.

The two of you are freakishly good at mimicking the other’s voice and mannerisms, which makes it even harder for your family.

Jason tells you two about April Fools Day, and you make the most of it. Of course, Damian’s a pain in the a$$ and decides to go around pretending to be you and getting into trouble. You’re banned from the mall, and you still have no idea why.

The two of you can communicate with just an impassive expression (Dick says it looks like a prime example of twin telepathy to anyone else), but anyone close to you knows sh¡t’s about to hit the fan when the two of you look at each other and smirk.

If it’s something you can’t communicate nonverbally, you use your cryptophasia.

Cryptophasia is a language developed by twins when they’re learning to talk. Most of them grow out of it, you and Damian decided to keep developing it so it became more of a conlang. No one else has been taught to speak it, and they never will be. It’s for emergencies only.

Sun Tzu’s The Art of War was your Bible growing up, and the two of you call out verses when you fight together and need the other to understand a tactic (you both inherited Bruce’s eidetic memory, so you’ve got it memorized).

When you get too big to pull off the which-is-which game, you make your own costume and become the true Redstart.

It’s basically Damian’s Robin uniform (the Super Sons’s version is the only one I’ll accept), but the boots and gloves are black, the biceps have a white stripe, the lining of the cape is white (the lining of the hood is black), the gold accents become white, it has a zipper down the front instead of clasps, and the mask becomes black (including the eyes). The waterline of the eyes is white. Like a painted redstart.

If Damian’s into animals, you’re into plants. The two of you find common ground on the fact that pollution sucks, so when you walk Titus, you take a trash bag and gloves with you to pick up litter as you go.

You did not want to go to Jon’s school.

Not because you don’t like Jon (because you do), but because you know you could run intellectual circles around every one of those snot-nosed brats.

School is stupid. Especially because the American education system is subpar; everything about it is.

You hardly pay attention in class. You do all of the homework a week ahead of time incase something comes up. Usually you’re doing next week’s homework in class. You’ve written entire papers on your phone in Google Docs in the middle of class to be printed out later.

If you’ve already done everything, Damian’s usually drawing and you’re daydreaming or you’re working on a case on your phone.

The teachers are always trying to catch you not paying attention, but you little sh¡ts can always answer their questions.

Damian’s closest with Dick, but you’re closest with Tim. You admire his ability to plan ahead (see the entirety of the Red Robin comics), and you know that he’s better than both your father and your grandfather; you want to be as good as him when you grow up.

It takes a long time to wash the toxic masculinity and internalized misogyny our of your head, to learn that your grandfather’s ideas of “strength” were wrong, that it’s okay to lean on someone besides Damian, that you can be just as strong as your brother and still be feminine, that there are acceptable emotions besides anger.

Actually, your father teaches you that anger is more likely to get you killed. He won’t let you go into the field when he knows your angry.

It’s harder to drill out of you than your instinct to kill.

There’s a Lebanese restaurant called Tarbooshes (Teen Titans Special #1) the two of you go to when you’re feeling homesick. They make ox blood soup the same way your mother did, and it’s the only non-vegetarian thing Damian will eat for that very reason.

It’s nice to have a place to go where they know you by name and know what you want when you tell them “the usual.” It’s nice to have a place where you’re not a Wayne or an Al Ghul, where you’re just [Y/N] and Damian.

You disappear for an hour on your birthday to eat there. Bruce has asked you were you go, but you kept that between the two of you.

Speaking of birthdays, you’re eleven minutes older than him. He was six pounds and ten ounces (Batman & Robin #0?), and you were a solid seven.

After Damian died, you go to Tarbooshes to feel close to him.

You were doing all right with the no-killing thing until the night Damian died.

Heretic never stood a chance.

He looked so much like Damian it gave you nightmares, though. Nightmares where you killed your twin brother and woke up sobbing.

Damian didn’t give you a speech in his last moments. He just looked over at you and said in your cryptophasia, “I’m sorry.”

Not “I love you.” Not “Take care of them for me.” You knew that; you’d do that. He didn’t have to tell you, and he didn’t have to ask.

Just “I’m sorry.” Sorry that you were the one that was left behind.

It’s one thing to lose a family member, to lose a friend, or to lose a lover. It’s another to lose half of your soul.

The two of you had always feared you would die apart. It had always been a possibility; you weren’t stupid enough to think, “It’ll never happen to me.” Because it definitely could.

And it had.

You wanted to run away from everything. Even just for a while. Go to one of your safe houses in London or France or whatever and just — you didn’t know — stare at the wall until you felt better? But you’d made that unspoken promise to Damian — “I’ll take care of them for you; don’t worry.” — to take care of Titus and Catfred and Jerry and Batcow and Goliath, to take care of Alfred and Bruce and Dick and Jason and Cassandra and Tim, to take care of Jon and Colin and Maps.

You avoided the cave. And if you had to go down there for some reason, you refused to look at the Robin suits.

Dick noticed. He asked if you wanted them taken down, even just for a while. You gave him a look like he was nuts and said, “No.”

Jon was a mess. More of a mess than you were, somehow.

You’d shown up at the Kents’s. Jon was out doing Superboy things with Clark and Conner. Lois was the only one home.

You nearly scared her out of her skin when you materialized behind her and asked, “Is Jon home? It’s important.”

He had to know first. He deserved to.

For all he put up with from you two, he deserved to be the first to know when one of you was f*cking dead.

Lois, of course, bless her heart, had the mom instincts to know that you were in no way, shape, or form okay even when you were trying so hard to hold yourself together. She asked you what’s wrong, and it’s what made you break.

Your lip trembled. “He’s gone.”

“Who’s gone?”

“Damian,” your voice broke. “He’s dead.”

Jon came home to find you in his living room in your Robin uniform, covered in Damian’s and Heretic’s blood, snot running down your lip, sobbing in his mothers arms and knew what happened without having to ask. He did anyway.

When you and Jon both finally passed out, your Uncle Clark flew you back to the Batcave. No one was in any condition — not even Alfred — so he carried you up to your room; took your boots, mask, cape, and gloves off; and tucked you in. Then he went to find Bruce because there was no doubt he was losing it too.

Bruce doesn’t tell you anything about trying to find a way to bring him back without the Lazarus pit because he doesn’t want to get your hopes up.

You walk into your room one day to find Damian sitting there reading the dissertation (the requirement was three pages, not 120, but your teacher would just have to deal with your coping mechanisms) you had been working on for your World History class and left up on your laptop while on patrol.

He said with the utmost indifference, “You’ve made some good points, Sister,” and, of course, you pulled out a knife and attacked him because this was — was — was some shapeshifting alien or hologram tech or a cruel joke — your twin was dead, this wasn’t funny, whoever did this was going to pay.

He met you blow-for-blow and flipped away from you before saying, “And here I was expecting a warm welcome,” in your cryptophasia.

“Brother?”

“Tt. Obviously.”

Yeah, a college level thesis. You’re smart. You inherited Bruce’s eidetic memory and were raised by assassins.

You learned seven languages and wrote five doctoral theses by the time your teeth came in, wrote your first letter to a newspaper editor when you were two, could’ve had a geology doctorate when you were seven (Super Sons #1), and it only took you a week to learn the language on Takron-Galtos. You’re smart.

You’re also incredibly skilled. You learned to drive when you were five (Super Sons #1), your mother trained you to go for weeks without eating (Adventures of the Super Sons #6), you can micro-sleep for days and converse with half your brain asleep, can use a muscular contraction to move your liver out of the way of a blade (Nightwing #20), and can place yourself in a deep trance to heal damages caused by a hematoma (also #20).

(My dumba$$ didn’t note what Super Sons/Adventure of the Super Sons comic I was reading when I took notes, so I don’t have all of them noted in the two above bullet points. But that’s where they’re from. If I end up rereading them, I’ll edit this and add the comic numbers.)

The first time on patrol you thought Bruce was gonna die, you called him Baba.

The next evening, when Dick came to visit the cave, he turned to you and Damian and asked, “So, which one of you called him Dad?”

“How’d you know?” you asked.

“He’s smiling the way he did the day I called him Tati.”

“He’s not smiling,” Damian pointed out.

“He is on the inside.”

Can we talk about how royally the Arkham Knights game screwed up Tim Drake? (Though, everything seems to screw up Tim one way or another, I guess.) Why does he look like a quidditch player in the gif above the cut?

Visit my headcanon masterlist.

DISCLAIMER ━━━ I’m a dumb white American, and I don’t know much about Arab or Romani culture other than what I’ve learned online. I hope I got it right?? If I didn’t, please drop a comment or P.M. me or something to let me know!

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suntrastar · 4 years

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sink or swim

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

summary: you first meet ransom when meg drags you along to a party. everything somehow spirals from there.

warnings: swearing, smut (but like very vague smut, nothing super explicit), ransom’s general assholery

word count: 9.3k

author’s note: i hate ransom drysdale! he is a shit character! if he existed irl i would whoop his ass with NO hesitation. but i still wrote this fic because ... a bitch gets thirsty okay?? okay. and ik this is very long BUT a lot of it is dialogue so it should flow pretty fast!!! likes and reblogs are always appreciated!!! ily now enjoy!!! you can also read this on ao3 :)

There’s something fun about being somewhere where no one wants you, and then something shameful.

Meg isn’t touching you, but as she drags you around her famous grandfather’s mansion in search of people to bother, it feels like she has you on an invisible leash, fastened tight over your neck. To keep you tethered to her- like a fucking dog.

The leash hurts like it is not made of plastic or metal but instead two hands squeezing tight, wringing you dry, choking you harder and harder and bruising you purple with no remorse.

Now, she’s debating political theory with her douchebag fuck of an uncle, who almost hits you once- almost hits you twice with his cane while waving it around as he quotes Fox News-

Their voices rise. You’re the only one that flinches.

Standing awkwardly on the edge, you wonder why you are the only guest at this terrible party that looks so lost. Meg gives you a covert this-is-total-bullshit glance, and a small, pained, rehearsed smile, both of which you have to return- that’s the real reason you’re here, after all- and her uncle rants on, wholly oblivious.

You look past them both, to where one man stands by himself.

He’s leaning against the far wall, and while Meg retaliates with some of her favorite words, including audacity and bigoted and problematic, you take a sudden, intense interest in the wallpaper pattern, sweeping your eyes over the span of it, looking over the man just once.

He is staring right back at you.

All it takes is his eyes- he’s just staring, but you’re absolutely embarrassed.

He looks rich, with too much product in his hair and a coat that looks like it cost more than your rent, with loafers that expose an uncomfortable amount of ankle and an expression that morphs into something wolfish as he starts towards you-

Before you can think, he’s joined your little circle- Meg prefers standing, so of course, everyone stands- and smiles when she glares at him.

He isn’t looking at you anymore.

“So,” he interrupts, and his voice is so dark, “what riveting political topic are we debating tonight?”

You should call an Uber. Why did you accept Meg’s offer of a ride?

“Ransom,” Meg says sweetly, “could you just, like, fucking not?”

This is supposed to be a Christmas party, but none of these people seem to be in the Christmas spirit. Including her uncle, with his stuffy sweater set and clunky-as-hell shoes. He sputters something about young people and their profanity, and then hastily leaves.

Without thinking, you breathe out a heavy sigh of relief.

The man smiles wider. Unfortunately, it makes him look very handsome.

”Ouch,” he says lightly, to Meg, and turns to you.

A shiver runs down your spine.

You hate him immediately.

“Who are you?” he asks.

For whatever reason, the question makes Meg scoff. She shakes her head at you- a warning. Her hair flounces with the movement.

Because she doesn’t want you to, you give him your name. And then add, because your name alone seems like a title too stripped down, “I’m Meg’s friend.”

It’s hard to convince yourself to be polite, when you don’t like how he’s been looking at you- with his eyes narrowed and brown furrowed and lips parted. He gives an insufferable nod.

“Right,” he says. “The one she’s been showing off all evening.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“Ransom-” Meg starts, and suddenly you are so angry, at this man for confirming what you thought was all in your head, at Meg for suddenly swooping in to save you, like she’s been waiting for it-

“I guess,” you say, and smile a little, and regret everything.

“That’s pathetic,” he says, and looks at you kindly.

Apparently, Meg is the only one allowed to be self-righteous in her annoyance, or anger, or any other mildly passionate emotion. She doesn’t return your covert this-is-total-bullshit glance.

So you fend for yourself.

“Well, so is this fucking party, so-”

He interrupts you with a laugh.

It’s loud and arrogant and mirthless, and you’ll climb out of a window, find a way to walk through the walls, if it means that you’ll escape it.

“I’m just joking,” he says, pursing his lips, and the hands on your neck, ever-present, nearly crush the breath out of you. “Don’t get your panties all in a twist.”

“So funny I forgot to laugh,” you say, and instead of replying, he just looks at you.

He looks at you slowly, like he has nothing better to do, like he has time to waste. You can smell him- some cologne that’s spicy, and expensive, and Meg is staring at you in shock, like you’ve committed a crime.

But she’s quiet.

“I’m Ransom,” he says, and raises his hands to make little air quotes, which is weirdly adorable in a way that you hate, “Meg’s ‘asshole cousin’”

“Weird name,” you say.

You’ve changed your mind- you’re not even going to attempt to be nice.

For a second, he looks furious.

It’s attractive.

“Yeah,” he says. “Anyways, I’m about to ditch. Do you want a ride?”

How does he know you came here with Meg?

He was staring at you from the wall-

From his butterscotch-colored coat with its awful, ostensible lapels, he pulls out his car keys. The BMW logo flashes silver and blue, clashing against the gold of his pinky ring, clinking against the metal as he twirls the key ring around his finger-

For a second, you think that he’s about to toss the keys across the room and command you to fetch.

“Um,” you say, uncertainly, irritated with your own restraint, “Thanks, but Meg will-”

“Meg will what?”

He’s mocking you, and there is no one to come to your rescue.

Hesitantly, like she has to think twice about it, Meg opens her mouth to say something. What is her problem? What is your problem? Why are you treating her like she is your saving grace?

You talk before she gets the chance. “Okay, yeah. A ride would be great.”

***

Ransom offers because he likes your face.

You’re better-looking than the girls that Meg usually brings along to these parties, or maybe his standards have fallen- he isn't sure. Does it really matter? Even though he’s been looking at you all night, even though he’s positively thrilled to have you in his car, he’s not going to try anything.

There’s something desperate in your eyes that compels him against it.

You inhale sharply when he turns left.

“You forgot your turn signal,” you say, and he kind of likes how you chastise him, not angrily or even upset, but just exasperated-

How is someone like you friends with someone like Meg?

“Don’t worry about it,” he says lightly, and the tired glare you give him is enough to make his entire week.

Now that he thinks about it, his mother is always on his case about things like this- compassion and civility and basic human decency, and how he lacks it all, but what about now? He’s taking a miserable girl to her home, simply from the goodness of his own heart, with no strings attached.

This is such a good deed- this is like charity.

His mother is also always telling him that he’s severely, almost clinically narcissistic.

He definitely is, but again, does it matter?

“So, what do you think about my family?” he asks, making a big, dramatic show of using his turn signal before swerving right, feeling too pleased when you smile.

He steals a glance at your knees and somehow feels guilty.

He’ll have to do something about that.

“They’re pretty... lively,” you say hesitantly, and he’s suddenly hating the dark, this stupid fucking night- he’d like to see you better.

“Lively,” he repeats, and barks out a laugh. “They’re fucking crazy.”

You laugh, too, a real one- off-kilter, and too loud- none of that artificial shit he heard at the party. Nothing meant to please.

“I was definitely thinking that,” you say. He catches you looking at his hands, but boldly, you don’t look away. “I just didn’t want to be rude.”

“Now you’re worried about being rude?”

“I’m in a car with a strange guy I’ve never met before, so yeah.”

You’re smiling but look uncomfortable, and then afraid.

All bark and no bite- you’ve been talking all this talk, when really, he realizes, you’re so washed-out, so faint, like the bare sliver of moon out in the sky, the same weak moon he’s been cursing out. The same stars, too- you are just as scattered.

You look pretty.

“Are you scared?”

He keeps his eyes on the road because he thinks you’ll snap at him if he doesn’t. Not like anyone drives out here anyway- not like he can’t pay off a ticket or two or five-

“Should I be?”

There is something so delicious about this moment, with you starting to worry- he can’t look at the road anymore, not when he can watch your throat bob as you swallow instead, and it still feels so violating, but so good.

“Nope,” he says, and you startle when you hear him say it, and he has to bite his cheek to keep himself from smiling. “No need.”

“Great,” you say, and go quiet.

When he pulls up to your apartment complex, not too far from where he lives, he holds his mouth in check. He could say so many things right now, but for you, he restrains himself.

You have your bag in hand, seatbelt off. From the streetlight, the planes of your face look waxy yellow.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say.

Your hand is on the door handle, nails glittering. He can’t make out the color of the polish.

While looking at it, a sudden urge overcomes him.

And he shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t, but he wants to, so bad. It’s borderline frantic, the desire- it’s necessary and all-important and crucial, for him and his basic peace of mind, and maybe for you, too-

Who is he to deny himself?

“Wait,” he says, even though the door is open and you have half of yourself out the door.

The cold is slowly seeping in, bone-chilling.

You wait.

“Let me just,” he says, and can’t bring himself to say anything else.

He reaches out for your waxen face with one hand and presses it firmly against your cheek.

Under his touch, you shiver. He fans out his fingers to hold you better.

Your eyes are wide. He thinks you look a bit horrified- horrified with yourself for not resisting, maybe.

But he closes his eyes as he leans in, so it doesn’t matter.

He turns your head for you, a bit forcefully. You don’t protest.

He kisses your cheek.

When he pulls back and opens his eyes, you’re staring at him with your mouth in a perfect circle.

“Uh,” you say, and suddenly look away and out into the night, and it makes him angry, even though it should be flattering, “Merry Christmas.”

***

You don’t think about Ransom as much as he probably would have wanted- life picks up too fast.

In the last days of the year, Meg calls you and texts you and even goes so far as to send a few emails, but finally, you seem to have found the self-respect to not respond- consider that ridiculously wealthy bridge burned.

In January, your brother leaves to study for a semester abroad. All the walls in your small apartment are suddenly looming, standing high over you, standing empty. You try to shove off the loneliness by studying harder, by staying distracted.

In February, you have the same dream nearly every night- you’re sitting outside on a porch in the sun and for some reason there’s a bird on your head, and in your lap there’s a clock whose hands don’t work, and you’re wearing a heavy necklace made of gold links that jingle, and you’re so happy.

Does the bird count as company?

In early March, while you’re watering your plants, your phone rings with an unknown number.

You shouldn’t pick up unknown numbers.

You pick up.

“Hello?”

“Remember me?”

His voice nearly gives you whiplash.

It’s dark and harsh, faceless and yet as arrogant as ever.

“Hi, Ransom,” you say, and think of the night in the car for the first time since, think of how he gripped your face so hard that his ring left an imprint. “How the hell do you have my number?”

“Meg gave it to me,” he says smugly. “She says hi.”

You wonder what Meg thinks you did to her. It’s obviously something bad, something terrible, if she so willingly gave your number to this pretty-faced, pretty-voiced, ugly-coat-wearing asshole-

“Awesome,” you say plainly. You don’t want to talk about her. “Do you, like, need something, or-”

“I want to take you out,” he says.

You laugh and your grip on your pitcher slips, sloshing water over the edge.

“You’re joking.”

He is, right?

He takes an impatient breath that, for some reason, sounds inappropriate. “I’m serious.”

“Ransom,” you say, slowly, “I don’t even know you.”

“Then get to know me,” he says testily, and you can perfectly picture him, sitting in some colossal brownstone his parents bought him, while a butler daintily dabs the sweat from his brow with an embroidered handkerchief. “Tonight.”

You’ve overwatered your marigolds.

Has his voice really swept you this far away?

“No,” you say, and shake your head, even though he can’t see it. “No fucking way.”

“Oh, come on,” he says, like you’re the one being unreasonable. “You have anything better to do?”

You don’t, but you take a deep breath and prepare yourself to lie-

“I’ll treat you good,” he suddenly says, and his voice is low and sticky-sweet, dripping with honey. “I promise.”

He says it in a way that makes your knees weak.

You physically have to sit down- he knows how to get what he wants.

Could you actually do this?

Could you go out on a date with a crude, pretentious, trust-fund piece of trash, who probably thinks you’re easy, who’s only calling you because he’s bored, who has already subtly insulted you twice in this conversation alone-

-who got your number from his cousin that you both decidedly dislike, who kissed your cheek like you were pretty in the dark of the night, in his cold car?

“Fine,” you say. “Take me out.”

***

He doesn’t tell you that you look nice- he just stares.

There is something predatory in his eyes.

You’re out on a Wednesday night with a bad man, wasting your time, trying to get something out of nothing, smiling a fake smile when he orders you a drink you don’t like, already irritated with him, and trying too hard to stop looking at his face.

How are you actually interested?

You tell him that you’re in medical school.

“Really,” he says, like he doesn’t believe you. “You don’t strike me as that kind of girl.”

Underneath the table, you clench your hands for some sense of control, but still feel like you’re spinning. “What kind of girl?”

“Smart,” he says, and picks up his drink. The glass sweats beads of condensation, wetting the tips of his fingers. “I didn’t know you were smart.”

You shouldn’t dignify his flimsy insult with a response- he’s just trying to get a rise out of you, trying to make you roll your eyes or scowl or shiver. He wants you unsettled.

But the moral high ground is, unfortunately, too high.

“And I didn’t know that you’re such a terrible date.”

His teeth gleam white when he smiles. He knows.

He knows that he can say whatever the hell he wants, because he has money, and those eyes, and that insufferably nice rich-boy hair, and that sweater with its charmingly frayed hems, and that voice- he has everything, and then some, and he’s about to have you, too, if he keeps on looking at you like he already does.

“You’re so sweet,” he says.

“Fuck off.”

He winks and you could cry, you’re so fucking bothered-

You’re not usually this uptight, but he has you so drastically wound up that every little thing he does, even how he’s sitting- body sprawled, manspreading- is fire licking up on your skin, scorching-hot and ruining you with no remorse, like you have done something to deserve it.

When his eyes trail down, from your eyes to your mouth to your neck to below, you are so acutely aware of wanting him that you feel guilty. Like it’s a crime.

***

You don’t seem like the type of girl to fuck on the first date.

So, of course, Ransom tries to fuck on the first date.

As you stand outside the restaurant, in your dress and strappy sandals, you look so tense that he wants to laugh.

He can’t help it, because this whole thing you have going on- this weariness you approach everything with, this attitude- is so funny. Maybe, in any other situation, it would be irritating, but he’s been so bored lately that it’s stirring.

“Do you want to go back to my place?” he asks, quietly, taking a step closer to you so that at this very moment, under the waning sun, you should be able to just lean up and kiss him-

You blink slowly and keep your silence.

This is fucking tedious.

This should be so easy- all he has to do is settle his hands somewhere soft and let time pass, and then before he knows it you’re there and under and begging. But he can’t bring himself to touch you just yet, not when his head is calling you pathetic, and his heart calls you-

His heart just calls you.

You start to answer, and then hesitate. All five stages of grief flicker over your face at once- denial to acceptance in the same breath.

“Sure,” you say, unevenly, desperately-

When you step inside his house, your eyes go wide. As you take it in- the decor, the windows, the excess, he locks the door behind him and takes you in.

You step further inside, and he thinks of where it would be best, but then your eyes crease as you smile- it’s impossible to wait when your smile looks like that- and so he backs you right into the closest wall, cups your face with both of his hands and kisses you.

He kisses you and you curl your hands over his shoulders and immediately kiss back, and he is taken aback and delighted.

And he knew- the entire time at dinner when you were making eyes at him like you couldn’t believe that you were actually sitting there, present in that moment- he knew that secretly, you’re a freak. He knew it- he knows it.

He hopes it.

“Let me fuck you,” he whispers, right into your mouth, when your heart has been beating right into his for a while, “Let me fuck you right here.”

You bite his lip.

He takes a hand away from your face and reaches under your dress fast, rucking it all the way up your thighs, trailing up to touch you-

“Fuck,” you gasp, and arch your back up against the wall, and he grips you a little tighter-

He presses a finger into you- pushing aside your underwear and, good grief, you’re already wet- harshly, and pulls away from your mouth, so he can watch your face.

The lines creasing your forehead look like poetry.

He thinks he likes you. It’s a shame he had to meet you through Meg- it would be nice if he had met you somewhere else, on his own.

That way, he’d be able to waltz in one day, to another insipid family gathering, with you tucked under his arm. You, with your promise of a medical degree and your strappy sandals, and your iron grip on his shoulders and your drawn out breath of a moan-

The looks on their faces would be priceless.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says, and he’s a little irritated at how cracked his voice sounds, but it’s the right thing to say- you swear again and he picks up his pace, pressing hard on your clit. “If you’ll be good to me.”

“I’ll-” you say, and you’re actually stuttering, and breaking out into a lovely sweat, still forced back into the wall with his hand and body. He leans closer, so he can’t tell where you and him and the wall start and end. “I’ll be- fuck, Ransom-”

You still have your arms wrapped around him, like an embrace. He keeps one hand between your thighs, your dress pooling over his arm like water, and uses his other to work at his belt buckle.

This is also funny- you stay exactly how you are, even though at that moment, there is nothing holding you back.

***

The world is begging for you to consider your actions.

But you don’t. You know that when he offers, you’ll meet him again.

It should be too late. You’re exhausted, from a day full of lectures and an evening spent in a lab, working as a professor’s research assistant, and then studying for a few hours in the library- all you really want to do is sleep.

But then he calls.

The night is suddenly brimming with possibility, and you’ve never been more awake.

On a whim, Ransom suggests ice cream, and because you can’t bring yourself to deny him, you end up at a place that you would never go for- where everything is handmade and served in thick paper cups with multicolored plastic spoons, but he pays, because of his stupid ego or fragile masculinity or whatever the hell, so you don’t care.

He stands next to you as you order, and his shoulder keeps on brushing into yours. You can’t tell if it’s on purpose or not. In the glass shield that the tubs of ice cream sit behind, you’re both reflected, your body warped and tall, his body warped and taller. In the glass, his eyes meet yours.

The tension is strong- it’s only a matter of time.

Your heart flutters.

When you sit, he bumps his knees against yours- you’re sure it’s on purpose, now, but you don’t say anything. What even is there to say?

That you like it?

When he digs into his ice cream, the plastic spoon- a green one- snaps in his hand.

And because you’re so caught up in your own ridiculous thoughts, before he can go back up to get another, you pull your own from your mouth- a pink one- and offer it to him.

The proposition makes him smile.

Why does he smile like that? Each movement, each twitch of muscle is so perfectly detached and coordinated- it’s violent.

But he still takes the spoon from you gently, with a soft hand.

He’s too pretty to be mean, you think, but against any type of judgement- not just the better kind- you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You let yourself laugh and he scowls.

“This place sucks,” he says, like he isn’t the one who chose it.

He adjusts the womens’ scarf he’s always wearing, carefully arranging it over himself so it looks like it was carelessly thrown on. The blue in the paisley print brings out his eyes- it makes him look so stupidly hot that you start to get angry.

You just shrug. “Suck it up, buttercup.”

He puts your spoon in his mouth and looks at you.

Again, the night ends at his place- this time on an actual bed, because you ask for it, and you think he likes how you look when you ask for things in the current state state you’re in-

He fucks you in the dark, and swears into your ear, and is not kind or soft in any way, but after he finishes, he takes the time to kiss the spot in between your breasts, and you think that maybe he isn’t entirely horrible. The bedsheets are cool against your skin, and his mouth is always hot.

You leave without a word.

***

He takes you out this time, in a real, urgent show of wealth- he picks you up in his fancy car, takes you to a fancy restaurant where the numbers next to the fancy menu items are all appalling, where he spends the whole time making these awful, unfunny innuendos that still manage to rile you up, because they’re coming from his mouth-

On the way back, while waiting at a stoplight, you take a deep breath and brace yourself before looking at him.

He really is gorgeous- all lazy grace and harsh angles. The light colors his face red, red in his eyes and in the plane of his cheekbone and in the slope of his mouth- like a beautiful warning sign. His hands are carelessly draped over the steering wheel and, despite the warning, you reach out and trace a finger over his knuckles.

His whole body jerks.

You quickly draw your hand back.

“What?” he asks sharply. He’s staring at you like you’re crazy.

You don’t know why this is suddenly so fucking embarrassing, all you did was touch him- but you suddenly feel terrible, and-

“Nothing,” you say, with the same tone, and whip your head away from him to the window, where you smolder in the dark and furiously stare at nothing.

The light turns green. He takes his foot off the break and all but slams it on the gas pedal, driving as atrociously as ever, looking over at you for a split second when you don’t protest. The blood rushing in your ears is too loud for you to think- you can’t form any words.

Once it subsides, marginally, you add, “Sorry.”

His jaw tenses.

You look back over at him, at his ring, and imagine it pressing into your neck.

“What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?” he suddenly asks- suddenly demands, with a blazing authority that makes your stomach do flips.

You don’t know what answer he wants. “Um, one time I snuck out of-“

“Let’s do something crazier.”

On an abandoned road, he pulls over, and then you’re under him in the backseat- doing something crazier.

You might have some type of psychic tendencies, because his ring presses heavy into your neck as he pushes himself inside you, starting at a bruising pace, and then he says your name in the dark, and he looks so beautifully flushed, startling when you grab his hair, laughing when your hand accidentally skims his thigh, smiling when you come-

You wish you had the resolve to put an end to this.

You wish you could stay when it’s over.

***

You don’t like his house.

It’s not the brownstone you imagined, but rather a huge, minimalistic box, with too many windows and spotless paint and modern wood fixtures. Ransom has all of these customary rich-person things, including stately furniture and eclectic art pieces and tall shelves stuffed with books, but owning any actual personality has escaped him.

Standing in his house feels like standing in an empty room- it’s all so apathetic.

Still, you show up when he calls.

You haven’t done anything this bad before.

But there’s a first time for everything, right? First time for enjoying bruises and biting and an unwavering grip on your neck or hips or waist or thighs, first time leaving something so intense so awkwardly.

Each time is worse than the last, with the awkwardness spiraling, accruing beyond reason, and each time you struggle with what to say- even now, you just do your best to stay quiet as you start to get up, reaching for your clothes-

Ransom drapes a heavy arm over you before you have the chance.

“You can stay,” he says flippantly, and then shifts to pull you close to him, so that you are suddenly lying bare-backed against his chest, so that his sweat-slick body and heartbeat imprints itself on your skin.

Is he asking?

You crane your head over your shoulder to get a look at him.

He returns your stare like he’s been waiting for it.

His face is still flushed pink and a lock of hair hangs low over his forehead, and if you were any braver, you would comb a hand through it, gently, with no real intentions. He’s breathtaking. Even the new, foreign purple under his eyes is a sight- pretty like something you would want to kiss.

“You want me to stay?”

He rolls his eyes and tilts his head back. You would lick the sweat from the divots of his neck, if he asked you to.

“Or leave, if you want. I could care less.”

He cares

You know it because his grip is unwavering, because the terseness in his eyes is enough to make you look away.

Eventually, you settle a hand over his arm and try your best not to tremble. Ransom mumbles something under your breath- you can’t make any of it out, but you don’t ask him to repeat it, for the fear that it’ll upset this fragile bedroom balance you’ve so painstakingly built yourself into-

He wants you to stay.

“Are you okay?” you ask, because you don’t think he is.

He inhales. You feel his chest against you; it’s shaky. You wonder, for a second, about who he might actually be, underneath the arrogance and egotism and constant need to be an asshole- is he someone you could like without feeling bad about it?

“Yeah,” he says, and throws his other arm over you, so that he is holding you. “Why?”

There isn’t a genuine bone in this man’s body, but he genuinely sounds confused.

It’s possible that you’re the one who isn’t okay.

“Because,” you say, and take a great leap of faith- holding your bare heart in your hands, you turn to face him.

You’re fully exposed and subjected to his gaze- it’s nearly eviscerating. His eyes dip down to your chest and something like insecurity flares in your chest. It’s awful and terrible and you urgently want to kiss him on the lips.

He always kisses you first. You don’t know if you have it in you to kiss him yet.

You wouldn’t ever try, in case you don’t.

“You look kind of tired,” you say, and his eyes bore into you with a sinking weight, threatening to drown. One of his hands finds a blooming bruise on your skin and lightly presses. He doesn’t react when you wince. The action is still kind- almost tender.

He sighs, and it is such a delicate breath, fanning hot over your skin.

“I’m not tired,” he says, almost childishly.

You might be overstepping. But you don’t even know where the lines have been drawn.

“Okay,” you say, and because you would not dare kiss his lips, you lean close and kiss his jaw instead.

He startles and then gives you a crooked, lazy smile. He is everything good, you think- for this one moment. Pretty and soft-handed and made of glass and honey and all other lovely things.

You tuck your head in the crook of his neck and wrap an arm over his, tight, so he knows you are there, and hope for the best.

***

In your spare moments, you’re always thinking.

Ransom knows this because of how you look when you do it- your brow furrows and your eyes go glassy, and you frown with an intensity that he has never seen on anyone else.

It happens when you finish a sentence, when you have no response for him, when he is still talking but you’ve stopped listening. When you think it’s quiet.

It never happens during sex- is it pathetic to take pride in that?

As he stands in your apartment for the first time ever, you look like you’re in near-despair, like your thoughts are wreaking havoc on your mind, destructive and distressing. You wear basketball shorts and a college sweatshirt and glasses.

He didn’t know you wore glasses, and that you looked like this in them- he’s been missing out.

“Hi,” you say, and stare at him with troubled eyes.

Your apartment is so small. He almost feels claustrophobic, standing in here. When was the last time he willingly stood somewhere so small?

The lengths he’ll go to, for…

For you, he supposes.

“Hi,” he says, and wonders, also for the first time ever, what it is that you’re always thinking. “Why do you have so many plants?”

On the windowsill, with even spacing in between, sits an entire row of glass jars housing plants- all singular flower stems, some budding, some in bloom. The petals of a marigold brush against the window, orange against the grey outside. It’s cute, he absently thinks, in a struggling, shabby type of way.

“It’s just something I do for fun,” you say, sounding irritated. “Like, a hobby.”

Infringing on the living room space is a small table, cluttered with textbooks and pens and an open laptop with its screen dark.

It still baffles him that you’re smart.

“So,” you start, and cross your arms over your chest. He feels kind of offended, because he’s just realized that he really only knows a handful of things about you, and even that handful is sparse, slipping through his fingers. “Why’d you want to see me?”

He called on impulse.

He’s just- he’s in what someone could call a mood, where he hates everything and has the intense desire to ruin something, and while he was thinking of how to fix it- beyond just getting wasted- he thought of you.

And when he called, you were sounding so tired and so he even said he could just meet you here, so you wouldn’t have to drive, so you could squeeze in a few more minutes of studying before he inevitably invades your mind-

Easily, he deflects. Nearby, there’s a hallway with two doors, one of which is tightly closed shut.

“What’s in there?” he asks, and points towards it.

You relax, slightly.

He wants to gather you up in his arms, but he doesn’t know for whose sake- his or yours?

“That’s my brother’s room,” you say, and your shoulders slump, and he resists the urge to pull you upright, and the urge to gawk. Brother? “He lives with me. But he’s studying abroad this semester.”

“Where?”

“Prague.”

He nods. This is a stiff, perfect, shocking distraction. “Nice city.”

You nod distantly and head back to the table to put your things away.

“Yeah,” you say, after too long of a pause, as you start to cap pens and set them aside. You look at him as you do it, and so you miss a few times, accidentally drawing dark lines of ink all over your fingers. “I’m glad he got to go. When we were kids, he was obsessed with wanting to travel- he had this entire map in our room, and he would draw stars over every country he wanted to visit, and there were, like, a hundred of them, and he could list every single one, in the exact order he wanted to visit, and he could even list the capitals- I’m sorry. You probably don’t care about any of this.”

He doesn’t.

Or, he shouldn’t, but your eyes are clearer, and as you neatly stack your textbooks in an order only known to you, he is almost intrigued.

He’s longing for you- when you are right there.

He feels like a person outside of himself, when you look at him and smile tiredly.

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

There’s a cheesy ‘90s horror movie you find after a few minutes of channel surfing, complete with terrible special effects and edited-out profanity. The days are longer, now, and to stop the sun from casting a glare over the screen, you close all the blinds. It adds to the atmosphere, you say lightly, fully phased out of whatever just possessed you, and his hands are so itchy- itching to do something.

He sits. Patience is a virtue, but he is not virtuous, and so when you sit next to him and bring your knees to your chest, making yourself small, he goes to-

Something in his stomach stops him.

It’s butterflies- is he actually nervous?

This is so fucking infuriating.

You’ve got him trapped in some type of pain-and-power-play, some type of unassuming purgatory, and all he can bring himself to do is lightly brush a hand against your shoulder. You smile at his touch and his heart fucking breaks.

As the second boy in the friend group gets murdered onscreen, you close your eyes and duck your head into your knees.

“Tell me when it’s over,” you say, voice muffled.

“Scaredy-cat,” he says, even though this is no time for jokes.

You crack one eye open, looking only at him, and give him the finger.

Come here, he almost demands. The butterflies protest- he holds his tongue.

The dance continues. When the sun sets, everything darkens, settling into a dim blue. You look like something out of a painting. Faintly sad, unusually serene. The skin around your eyes has smoothened- you’ve stopped thinking so hard and he can suddenly breathe easier because of it-

And then there’s a jumpscare, and he shouts, “Jesus!”

The murderer has broken down a door, and all of the remaining characters are screaming, and you burst out laughing.

He’s in the middle of a crisis, and you’re laughing.

You lean into him as you laugh, with your head turned away from the screen and your eyes open, looking at him so fondly that he suddenly feels violated, and you let your shoulder brush against his.

“Scaredy-cat” you tease, and it’s absolutely now or never-

You’re making him weak- it takes too much time and effort for him to draw an arm over you.

You don’t flinch, but he is sure that you can hear his heart beating dangerously fast, without abandon, like it's trying to break free of his ribcage. He almost gasps when you come even closer and lightly kiss his cheek, wrapping your arms around him, and his head is just saying yes yes yes-

Your mouth goes over his ear, lips ghosting over skin. He waits, more scared than he’s ever been in his entire life, for what you have to say.

***

So this is Ransom’s deep, dark, ugly secret.

He likes to be cuddled.

If it were anyone else, you would laugh.

But it’s Ransom, and so you just take it in stride, as part of his extremely fucked-up psyche that is probably a result of a hundred things he’ll never tell you- childhood trauma and neglect and the consequences that come with having more money than you need or deserve.

He’s always talking, always talking shit, always talking over you and over everyone else, and you realize, one day, that he really only is treading water- he’s only focused on staying afloat, speaking whatever he wants, but never actually saying anything.

He’s responsible for his faults, of course. But still, when he smiles in low light or curls his hands over yours so viciously, you don’t know if you should leave, or if you should just stay and pity him quietly.

You’re starting to like him too much to even care.

He starts coming around more. And he actually stays, and starts leaving pieces of himself behind. He has a toothbrush next to yours and a phone charger on his side of the bed and imported, undoubtedly expensive snacks in the kitchen.

He leaves clothes, too- you wash them with yours and keep them, neatly folded, in your closet.

On a warm day in May, he meets you at a cafe.

He does most of the talking, like always. It’s been months, already, but you still find it difficult to start conversations.

You still have trouble telling him certain things without feeling like you have to defend yourself, and he still rarely deviates from being a total dick, even when you hold him or have his head in your lap, when you make him laugh or when you kiss him.

Or when you put your hands in the sleeves of his sweaters and rub your palms against his forearms, because he’s always running warm and your hands are always cold.

He always acts like it annoys him, jumps when your hands meet his skin- but you know he secretly likes it, because whenever you’re done he pulls the hems all the way over his hands and looks at you with something amazed in his eyes.

With the weather warming up, he’s ditched the sweaters and taken to wearing these awful fucking short-sleeved button-downs, all unnecessarily tight and showing way too much collarbone. He’s making you sweat.

“You’re staring,” he says, and smiles, self-satisfied.

You bring your straw to your lips and shake your head. “I’m not.”

He knows that you can’t help it- he is always so gorgeous. He’s infuriatingly pretty.

“Don’t lie to me,” he says, and nudges your foot under the table, voice suddenly low, and it’s like, holy shit-

You bring your drink down and lean over the table, careful to avoid knocking anything over, and kiss him quickly.

He tastes like bitter coffee.

You’re sad, all of a sudden.

When you settle back in your seat, you clear your throat like nothing happened. You want to lean in again and button up the rest of his shirt, and kiss him again. You want to come so close that your noses touch, and then yell at him, just for being him.

He looks appalled

“What was that for?”

It’s the first time you’ve ever done this.

“No reason,” you say. “I just felt like it.”

“You just felt like it,” he repeats, and it’s like the same reaction from the night at the stoplight, and you realize-

He’s dumbstruck.

Then, just as quickly as it came, it disappears. He sets his jaw like he’s about to get up and leave. You try not to scowl, even though you feel like you’re drifting, tide carrying you away, sand clean and smooth on where your body once was-

It gets to you.

“Can I not just kiss you?” you snap harshly, glaring at him with a ferocity you don’t think he’s ever seen.

It’s inevitable- the result of months of frustration. You can only suppress yourself for so long. Why, you want to ask, why are you not entitled to him the way he is to you and everything else? Can you not ask for him so wholly?

He flinches.

Ransom Drysdale, asshole extraordinaire, flinches.

It brings a small sliver of satisfaction with it. There’s some nerve you’ve struck, and the discontent on his face is steadily growing-

You pay it no mind, drinking the rest of your iced coffee in calm silence.

Outside, the day is vaguely summery, where the sun is out and strong, but still too cold in the shade. You stare past his head, towards the door. How quickly can you leave?

“You can,” he says quietly, when you’re rising to throw your cup in the trash. “Whenever you want.”

His eyelashes are so long- they command a moment of attention all on their own when he blinks- soft and slow and gazing at you from underneath them. You wonder if he is doing this for the same reason you are. If he’s lonely, too.

When was the last time you had the dream with the bird?

You smirk. “Whenever?”

He is forlorn.

You like him better in the spring.

“Whenever.”

“Let’s get out of here,” you say, and make your voice low, since two can play at that game.

He considerably perks up.

***

When you wake up, he’s still in your bed.

Lately, he’s been spending more time at your place than his. You think that all those windows are finally starting to get to him.

Ransom always holds you fiercely in his sleep. You break free as gently as you can and take him in for a brief moment- you like how he looks when he’s asleep. Unconcerned, chest rising slow with each breath, hair splayed over the pillow in nearly every direction. He almost looks innocent.

You get up quietly, even though there’s no chance he’ll stir- he sleeps like the dead.

Daylight filters through the blinds in white-yellow streams, dappling him golden.

You almost take a picture, but regretfully leave the room for other tasks- you stretch and water your plants and check your email, and then sit down at the table to Skype your brother.

He picks up fast.

“Hey!” you say, and at once feel so much relief, to see his grainy, smiling face on your laptop screen.

Europe has done him good- he’s grown out his hair, and his skin is glowing, and he looks so happy.

He tells you about what he’s been doing lately, studying architecture. It makes you so proud, this fact alone- that unlike you, he can do whatever he wants and doesn’t have the looming promises of debt and academic burnout and crushing, ever-present stress hovering over his shoulders. It is so good to see him, and you are so grateful that he can be who he wants to be, do what he wants to do-

“Holy shit, who is that?”

He’s looking past you. You turn around and almost jump-

Ransom stands in the kitchen, shirtless and rummaging through the cupboards. He waves at you.

You would think that someone like Ransom would exclusively sleep in, like, silk pajama sets, or something, but at least he’s in sweatpants- however low-rise they might be, however loosely knotted the drawstring is. It’s better than nothing, at least- what if he had walked out in nothing?

When you turn back to the screen, you catch a glimpse of yourself in your camera feed- you look absolutely mortified.

You are absolutely mortified. This is the start of what can only be a nightmare.

“Are you dating that guy?” your brother asks incredulously. He’s still staring at Ransom with his jaw hanging loose. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“No,” you say forcefully, without thinking. “That’s, um... “

Hopelessly, you gesture back towards him, trying to come up with the words. Nothing feels right in your mouth- every title you can come up with is too consequential, too heavy.

“...That’s Ransom.”

“Weird name,” your brother says, and grins.

You take a breath that feels more like a gasp. “I know.”

“Hey,” Ransom says, from the back, and continues to loudly open and close the cupboards- what the fuck is he even looking for? You don’t keep enough shit in there to warrant this much noise- he’s doing this for theatrics.

“I think I’m going to go,” you say loudly. “Love you.”

“Bye,” your brother says, and he’s grinning stupidly, like a madman.

You disconnect and feel like you might faint.

Not your boyfriend, right?

“Was that your brother?” Ransom asks, casually, finally finding what he was looking for- two mugs. There is no way that he didn’t come across them earlier.

“Yeah- yes,” you say shakily. It feels like someone has filled your brain with fizzy water.

There’s a few boys your brother has met over the years, but you’ve always been careful. Because an introduction is like making a statement- it’s like saying that this person you’re with is important enough to you that they’re going to overlap, exist in more than just one part of your life.

But Ransom is a catastrophe of a person- you can barely handle him as he is. How could you ever have him as anything more?

He goes through the cupboards, again, and finds a box of teabags. “The one studying abroad?”

“I only have one brother,” you snap.

“Okay,” he says, totally unbothered, surprising you. He’s not a morning person in the slightest- why is he being so cordial? “Where do you keep your kettle?”

“Second cupboard on the right,” you say, and bury your head in your hands.

He looks at you. He is so many things, but never kind, until now. His hair, in its adorable bedhead, flops over his eyes. Before, it was only almost, but now, you think, he looks completely innocent, like the type of guy you could give kisses without feeling nervous, the type of guy you wouldn’t deny as your boyfriend.

What is wrong with him?

What is wrong with you?

At the end of the day, he’s always there- you’re exclusive, aren’t you? Isn’t that enough to deserve a title?

He finds the kettle, and then sifts through the box. He sorts through different flavors with a gentle precision you’ve never seen before- is this really him? Is he the type of person that is gentle and precise?

The uneven smattering of blue-black bruises on your thighs say no.

You’re so confused that your head hurts.

“None of these flavors are any good,” Ransom says, and shakes his head. His hair shines in the morning light. “Earl Grey- who the hell drinks Earl Grey?”

“Don’t insult my tea like that,” you say, and he looks back at you and gives you a brilliant flash of a smile.

If he’s bothered at all by your denial, he never brings it up.

*** He’s too far gone.

He’s in freefall, feeling weak- he’s fucking succumbed.

To you. To your comebacks and the world-weary gaze you have of everything, to your nonsensical collection of plants and your painfully unattractive basketball shorts, to the way you laugh too loud and too little, to the way you say his name, where he can never tell if you’re happy with him or exasperated-

It’s wrong.

But, he thinks, so are all of these other things, like drugs and alcohol and blowing money on shit he doesn’t need- and you make him feel better than any of those things ever have, so why should anybody have a problem with it? A week goes by after you tell your brother that he isn’t your boyfriend- and it doesn’t bother him, because he’s never wanted that title in the first place, never has- but it obviously bothers you.

You’re disappointed in yourself, because you think you’re supposed to be better than him, because you’re so smart and he is so terrible.

He hopes that that’s not how you actually think. It hurts him to0 much to even consider it, and so he doesn’t, and so he thinks of how to keep his hold on you, and then he thinks of why he even wants to-

The truth is too apparent to deny.

After a week, he calls.

***

He’s very slow.

Not tired- just consumed with the sudden need to savor things. When you let yourself into his arms, Ransom treats you like you’re fragile.

“What’s up with you?” you ask, and as he stares, your voice reduces to something small. You go timid when his eyes are on yours, he realizes, and the thought sends a thrill through his body- he slowly rocks you, to calm himself.

Your shirt is off and you wear a bra with a small lace trim- not racy, but very cute- and he just keeps on staring.

Wow, he thinks. He fucked up good.

“Nothing,” he says, and moves one hand from your waist- he has you in his lap, straddling him- up to the top of your neck. He trails down and over to your collarbone, hooking a finger into your bra strap.

You laugh, breathy and indecent.

He lifts it, subtly, and you whine, and he bites back his own.

“You’re so pretty,” he says, and kisses your neck. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Ransom,” you gasp, with your hands splayed over his back. He slowly skims his hand over, to your back, feeling every little thing, dip and contour and curve, everything- and then unhooks it, and you are bared to him and he is breathless.

He takes you by the shoulders and twists, to bring you down, to pin you against the bed. Your comforter is dark blue, like ocean water.

Your eyes are endless, like ocean water.

“Are you upset about something?”

Your chest rises and falls and he almost reaches for the waistband of your underwear, but stops himself. He presses a wet kiss to one of your breasts, and you arch into his mouth. He feels like you know every single secret of his, when he has told you none.

You know by accident that he’s ticklish. That’s it.

“I’m not,” he says. “I promise.”

He bends low to kiss down the length of your body, repositions his hands to hold your waist. He thinks that this is more intense- it is just his mouth and your skin and the sound of your breath hitching.

He still has it put together, remarkably well- unfathomably well.

“I feel like there’s something you’re- ah- not telling me, honey.”

That does it.

He grips your waist harder, in the way he knows you always like, so that tomorrow he will be able to retrace his steps, follow the blue-

“Say that again,” he says, and presses a soft kiss over you- even through your underwear, with its delicate lace trim, he can feel how wet and wanting and ready you are for him.

“Say- fuck- say what?”

Your hand flails, for a second, before you thread it through his hair, and yank. It hurts, pleasantly.

He hooks his fingers into your waistband and shimmies it down your thighs, and you instinctively spread your legs. He puts his mouth to your slit, slicker than he imagined, and the heady arousal rushing through his mind- and everywhere else- is nearly enough to make him forget what you even said-

He is quite possibly drunk off of you alone, and he wants to slap himself, and, like, press you so close into him that you forget your way out.

With the spare glow of one lamp, you look like you’re made of gold.

He breaks away from you for a terrible moment to strip, and with one hand he teases your clit, and with the other he pumps himself, hard, once, twice, three times in anticipation-

“Don’t make me ask again,” he says, and comes back up to cup your face once more, and slips his hand back down into you at the same time, with his cock hard against your thigh- this is all quite slippery- the game you’re playing at and the risk he’s trying to take-

“Honey,” you say, and you’re smiling deliriously, but shakily. “Honey honey honey.”

“You’re killing me,” he says, and his voice, in a moment of terrible, vulnerable, unspeakable betrayal, cracks.

“Good,” you say, but your voice is all wobbly as he lines himself up and roughly pushes into you, holding you a little tighter to keep you steady. “You deserve it.”

He kisses you openmouthed, with his teeth scraping- it’s rough and jarring, the way you always take it. Against his mouth, you swear incoherently, stringing together a litany of curses with his name thrown in between, and goddamn him- it makes him smile.

He wastes no time- he can’t be patient any longer, not when he has you under him like this, and so he goes fast, snapping into you at a bruising pace and keeping his mouth close, and rubbing at your clit, to overstimulate you and make everything faster, harsher, more immediate-

When you come you always say his name, thickly with gravel in your voice, and gasp like the breath has been stolen from your lungs. This time, when you are so far gone that he thinks you’re beyond the realms of sound, and sight, too, with your eyes tightly screwed shut, he says it, for the sake of himself.

“I think I love you-”

310 notes · View notes

theamberwriter · 4 years

Note

OKAY SO OMEGAVERSE- can I please have Todoroki, Bakugou and whatever other characters you wanna write for when their omegas nest gets destroyed by something (maybe a friend, a parent, whoever) and they’re really sad about it? I just need some protective alphas rn. (Thank youuu)

Pairings - Alpha!Todorki x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Bakugo x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Kirishima x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Yaoyorozu x Omega!Reader, Apha!Ashido x Omega! Reader

Word Count - 9722

A/N - Wow, this took waayyy longer than I thought it would to write. But it’s also kinda long, lol Anyway, I really hope you like it! I had lots of fun writing it! Also, I’m going to apologize now to Denki lovers for the last one!

~*~

SHOTO TODOROKI

Todoroki was a force to be reckoned with, especially where it came to his mate.

Nobody got to fuck with them.Much less his own father.

Endeavor had made it painfully obvious he didn't like his son's chosen mate.

Especially since they were a seat higher in hero ranking than Shoto.

He couldn't believe his own son had been outranked by an omega.

Shoto didn't mind, in fact, he was very proud of you.

He may not have known you in school, but your mother had embarrassingly boasted a laundry list of your accomplishments when you introduced him.

She also gave him a very detailed rundown of every single step of your hero training. Starting from a young age.

You could've died of embarrassment.

Shoto listened intently, taking in every single detail.

He firmly decided that you deserved your seat, maybe even a higher seat than that, and he made sure you felt proud of your ranking too.

Since your position pissed off Endeavor, Shoto always found a way to wedge it into conversation with him.

Anything to make the old crackpot flame.

It made family gatherings rather awkward and difficult.

Usually the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

As hard as Fuyumi tried to make things chill and normal, Natsuo and Shoto made sure Endeavor knew they liked you more than him.

So to say that your relationship with your future father-in-law was nonexistent was an overstatement.

Endeavor couldn’t stand being in the same room as you. Shoto refused to allow you to be in the room with him, especially alone.

The two of you were basically strangers connected through a mutual.

Honestly, it was stressful.

He was going to be at family gatherings, he would be at your wedding the following year, he'd be grandfather to any pups you raised - no matter what, he was always going to be there.

You couldn’t escape him. So you might as well make peace, right?

You had a bad feeling, but you couldn't keep walking on eggshells.

You made sure Shoto didn’t know what you were up to. And waited until you had a day off and Shoto was at work.

You already knew he’d disapprove of the olive branch you were trying to extend.

You and Shoto lived in a lovely house on the outside of the city where his agency was.

Shoto wanted it built as an early wedding present. You'd only been there for about six months.

It had large, beautiful gardens, a good amount of land, and a pond. It was your own personal wonderland.

Having this little spec of gloom in your personal paradise wasn't ideal. But you had to put a truce on this.

It was noon on the dot when a knock came to your door.

You were still not mentally prepared to handle this on your own.

You smiled as best you could and opened the door. “Enji.”

“[Name],” he said in disdain.

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Thank you for coming. Come in, the tea just finished.”

He glared at you for a long moment but then walked into the grand foyer.

Enji glanced around blankly. You couldn’t tell if he liked the house, or if he hated it because it was yours.

“Shoto designed everything,” you noted. He nodded at that. “Uh, the dining room is this way.”

You led him through the library and down a hall.

You opened the door, allowing him in first. He entered without so much as a glance at you.

“Take a seat.” You gestured to the two chairs where your lunch and fresh tea was laid out.

Endeavor sat stiffly in one, and you in other.

“The cooks Shoto found make the best food I’ve tasted,” you noted awkwardly.

Shoto had hired some staff to help since you two were so busy.

“For you, I’m sure,” he grunted but picked up his utensils anyway. “Thanks.”

You two ate in tense silence for a minute. Your heart pounded in your chest, it nearly made you gag with nerves.

You should’ve waited for Shoto.

You cleared your throat and took a sip of tea.

“I’ll be frank, Enji…” you started. “I asked you here to extend an olive branch.”

“An olive branch. Really?” Enji seemed more annoyed than ever.

“When Shoto and I get married, we’ll be family. - I’m not saying you have to like me. Or that we have to talk to each other. All I’m saying is that I want to make a truce. So we can be...civil?”

He grunted. “Does Shoto know you’re doing this?”

You shook your head. “He’d probably disapprove. But I thought I’d try. So if it doesn’t work out, he’d still come around. You know how he can be. He’d be even more furious with you, and probably wouldn’t go any family functions for a while.”

“You seem to know my Shoto well enough,” Enji noted.

You shrugged, laughing uncomfortably. “We’ve been dating for five years, engaged for almost two. So I’m hoping I do.”

After another few moments of silence, he asked, “May I use your facilities?”

You nodded and gestured. “Through that door, make the left, follow it down the hall, and it’ll be on your right.”

You cursed under your breath when the door finally shut. It was a relief being out from under those eyes. Away from his alpha stench. It was burning your nose, and making your eyes water.

You didn’t think anything of it until fifteen minutes had passed.

Had he gotten lost? Definitely not, right?

You left the dining room, going down the hall to find the bathroom door open and the room empty.

You followed the hall down and around and finally back to the foyer.

That’s where you smelled it. The undeniable scent of smoke.

You followed it up the stairs and down one wide hall and then another.

Your heart felt like it snapped in half as you watched smoke pour from the door with a sign (lovingly made by Momo) that read Nest Sweet Nest.

You launched yourself into the doorway. Sure enough, Endeavor was slowly lighting item after item on fire.

“What the -” you started, walking into the room with a sleeve over your face.

“I will never make peace with you,” he snapped. “Extending a branch without so much as consulting Shoto. How degrading and insulting to your alpha. And being outranked by an omega of all people. It’s disgraceful. Shoto deserves that spot you occupy. As well as an omega stronger than you.”

You felt something in you snap. And then you were consumed by overwhelming energy.

Your quirk had activated, and you hadn’t done it consciously.

The energy surge lifted you up, engulfing you in the form of a bear that barely fit in the room. Luckily the energy could be phased through objects if you wanted.

The translucent white-blue bear roared and growled at Endeavor.

“Get. Out!” you snapped from where you controlled the bear from within.

Endeavor shot fire at you. But the bear stopped it from entering your energy form.

You took the bear’s massive paw and swatted at Enji, pinning him under it.

Your bear leaned down, shifting into the form of a lion. It snapped and snarled at his face.

Endeavor showed no fear. Though you could smell it through the lion’s nose.

You picked him up in the mouth of the lion. Putting just enough pressure to pin and threaten him. But not enough to crush.

The lion and you squeezed through the door, swept down the halls, and back to the front door.

Your butler stood, waiting with the entry open. “I’ve instructed the others to put the fire out.”

You nodded at him, then squeezed out to the front path. The lion grew even larger, dwarfing the house.

“Consider this war, Endeavor,” you snapped, voice echoing through the lion. “All branches have been burned. And I will be telling Shoto.”

The lion tossed him out into the middle of the front lawn.

You watched as he hit and rolled across the grass. When he stopped, he pushed himself up and glared at you. Then he lit up and readied himself.

As soon as he launched into the air, he was caught in a flow of ice.

Only one person could do that.

Walking up the drive was no other than Shoto, home early.

You’d semi-lost your mind to the beast. A struggle you’d been having since your quirk emerged. Only rage made you lose your mind now.

The lion roared at Shoto, stalking up to him. But he showed no fear. You couldn’t even smell it on him.

He placed a hand on the lion’s snout, staring at it as blankly as ever. The lion sank into a laying position.

Shoto climbed up on it and forced his way into the energy field. Like you’d showed him, just in case.

He was pulled to the center, where you were. Immediately, he took you in his arms, cradling you against his chest.

You struggled at first. But calmed down at his cinnamon scent.

He rubbed your back and kissed your hair, pumping out comfort pheromones.

You felt the energy draining and you wrapped your arms around him in turn. With a sigh, the two of you settled to the ground.

“Shoto,” you yawned, your quirk completely deactivated. “You’re home early.”

“Got a call about a fire,” he grunted. “I can see why now.”

Shoto released his father, who hadn’t bothered melting the ice on his own. The two just stared at each other, then Endeavor left without a word.

“What happened? What was this all about?” Shoto asked as he hauled you off the ground.

You were worn out. Rage energy was much harder to control. It was much more draining than how it was when you did hero work. At least you had control then.

You explained the situation to Shoto. He was not happy, to say the least.

“What were you thinking? You should’ve waited -” he started to scold.

You couldn’t help the tears that flowed. “That’s not even the worst part. - Come see.”

Tiredly, you pulled Shoto up to the charred room that once held your nest.

Fond tokens of love and memories were burnt to ash. The blankets and clothes and pillows you’d hoarded were all gone now. Nothing was left of what was except the charred Nest Sweet Nest sign on the door.

“He...he burned everything,” you wheezed, wiping furiously at the tears on your cheeks.

“That bastard,” Shoto cursed under his breath.

He held you closely, glaring into the blackened room. He wasn’t going to let his father get away with this. But, for now, you were his priority.

He got you changed into clean clothes, then took you down to the entertainment room.

Shoto put on your favourite movie, had tea brought down along with snacks, and cradled you in his arms until you zonked out.

He’d never seen you like that. He had to admit, it was terrifying.

Honestly, he never thought he’d have to use the emergency maneuver you’d taught him. You were so good with your control.

Of course, Endeavor would be the one to break it. Natsuo and Fuyumi were going to hear about this.

However, revenge was for another time.

Right now, his omega was the most important thing.

~*~

KATSUKI BAKUGO

God, you were just too cute and you didn't even fucking know it.

Katsuki smiled to himself as he cast one last look at you in your nest before going off to work.

He'd bought you a body pillow cover of himself as Ground Zero as a joke. But here you were, curled up with your face stuffed in it and a leg thrown over. Drooling like a kid.

He'd scented the entire thing for you. There was no getting rid of that smell for a while.

He never thought he'd find this with anyone. He was so caught up in work, romance was the last thing on his mind.

But one chance encounter changed everything. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

With that, he left for work. Unaware of what would soon transpire.

All of Katsuki’s friends loved you. In fact, there were times they preferred you over him.

But not all of your friends loved Katsuki.

The shallower ones of the bunch were jealous you’d nabbed a hero. But they were all concerned about your safety. Not just from villains, but from Katsuki himself.

They found him too brash, too rowdy, too aggressive. And they were worried that would turn on you.

Not that they’d ever tell you as much. But you could tell they weren’t fond of him.

They’d never seen the side of him you had. Or even the sides of him that his friends got to see.

He was usually busy when you hung out with your friends.

Even when he was home, he didn’t like to get in the way of your friend time. Which was becoming fewer and farther between. No matter how much you wanted him to hang out with you all.

They weren’t exactly begging for him to come along either.

Your friends had seen him in the media. Seen the way he acted in battle, the way he talked to the press and yelled at the paps. How he bullied even fellow heroes.

They didn’t trust him as far as they could throw him.

It was the weekend and you were having them over for the day while Katsuki was out on patrol.

You had everything ready by the time they arrived for lunch.

There wasn’t really much to do. Katsuki kept the house tidy, while you did laundry and dishes. You took turns giving the dog a bath, and that was that.

Your dog, an Amstaff named Pooki - a name she came with, much to Katsuki’s chagrin (he did try to change it, but she wouldn’t respond to anything else) - barked when a knock came at the door.

Behind it, stood your main little group of six. They all seemed on edge, except your best friend of the group - Haruto.

He grinned and hugged you immediately.

“I’m so glad you all could make it! - Did you all find it okay? I know we’re a little out of the way,” you said and moved so they could enter.

“Uh, yeah. We found it fine,” Akari, Haruto’s sister, said.

Haruto was already baby-talking the dog.

“Is he -” started Sota, a friend you’d made in middle school. Your other friend, Mei, nudged him.

You shook your head. “No - my boom boy won’t be back until this afternoon. He’s out patrolling.”

Misato, the most serious and mom like of the group, came and put a hand on your shoulder. “It’s good to see you haven’t lost your spunk.”

“What’re you -?” you started, then shook your head. “Nevermind. C’mon, I have a game loaded for us to play. I promise you’ll love it.”

You led them to the living room. It was a decent size with two chairs, a four-person couch, and a loveseat. Katsuki had a gaming station set up around the electric fireplace.

Your friend Yuto pushed his way to the front of the group. “No way is that -”

You nodded, knowing exactly what he was talking about. He wouldn’t shut up about it in the group chat.

“But that hasn’t even come out yet -”

“Katsuki got it for me,” you laughed. Tension in the room spiked. “It was a thank you from the company. He saved their building from being destroyed, you know. This game never would’ve been released, if it weren’t for him.”

“Remind me to thank fireball later,” Yuto noted half-heartedly. He perched in one of the chairs, grabbing a controller. The others followed.

You were squished in between Haruto and Akari. Pooki took up residency on your lap. You were going to have to put this dog on a diet.

“Help yourselves to the snacks. Made them fresh just before you got here,” you noted.

It didn’t take long for them to dive in.

The day was going nice for the first few hours. What you didn’t expect was another knock at the door.

Pooki shot off your lap, racing to it. You were surprised to find Katsuki’s friends.

“Mina, Eijiro, Hanta, Denki - what’re you guys doing here?” you asked, letting them in.

“Here to see you, of course.” Eijiro hugged you tightly. The others followed.

“Besides, Katsuki said he wanted to chill today, anyway! Just so happens that we all had early patrols,” Mina explained.

“Katsuki won’t be home until later -” you started, moving with them as they made their way to the living room.

“We like hanging out with you, ya know?” Denki said, rolling his eyes.

“Who’s this?” Haruto said, looking over the back of the couch as you all entered.

You glanced between the two groups. “Uh....well, this is awkward….Guys, these are Katsuki’s friends. Eijiro Kirishma, Hanta Sero, Mina Ashido, and Denki Kaminari. - Everyone, these are my friends. Haruto and Akari Ito, Yuto Watanabe, Misato Yamamoto, Mei Nakamura, and Sota Sato.”

Katsuki’s group said their hellos. But your friends all stared in tense silence until Misato spoke up. “Hello, it’s very nice to meet you all.”

Pooki nearly knocked Denki over jumping on him.

“Sorry, she’s gotten fat since you saw her last,” you laughed.

“Still cute as ever though, aren’t you girl?” Denki replied, baby-talking to her.

Eijiro’s eyes moved to the screen. “What’re you all playing?”

“Remember that gaming company that Katsuki saved the building?” you asked.

Denki’s eyes lit up. “Really?! That one!”

You grinned. “Mhm. Someone can take my spot. - I’ll go get chairs.”

“Don’t worry,” Eijiro chuckled, patting Pooki. “We can get them ourselves. That’s the manly thing to do.”

With that, the four of them left. You laughed under your breath, rolling your eyes after them.

“How long are they staying?” Sota asked snidely.

You shrugged. “Until Katsuki gets home, I suppose. Trust me, you’ll like them -”

“I doubt that,” Haruto said, slumping back into his seat.

You settled awkwardly back between Haruto and Akari, your legs crossed under you.

That’s when the others came back with chairs. Well, at least Hanta and Denki anyway.

“I’m just gonna sit on the floor,” Mina said with a shrug. She came and sat in front of you, leaning her back against the couch.

Eijiro sat on the floor across from you, leaning against the coffee table to pick at the snacks.

“Here, Denki,” you called, tossing him your controller. “I know you’ve been dying to play it. Just - don’t zap another controller, please? I thought Katsuki was going to kill you last time.”

“Awesome!” he cheered. “[Name], you’re the best!”

They started the game back up. It was Denki, Yuto, Mei, Sota, and Haruto playing.

“So,” Misato started, clearing her throat. “You all have been here before?”

“Oh yeah,” Eijrio laughed. Pooki begged him for a cracker. “We helped them move in. Pook here was just a pup then.”

“And you come even when - Bakugo - isn’t here?” Haruto asked grouchily.

“We come here all the time when they’re home alone,” Mina noted, scrolling through her phone. “We love hanging out with [Name].”

“Katsuki thinks I need protecting,” you chuckled. “So he sends in the heroes.”

“You do!” Hanta interjected.

You rolled your eyes. “From what?”

“From -”

“Pooki’s too cute to be handled alone, it’s dangerous!” Eijiro interrupted. He was wrestling with her now.

“You’re going to break something.”

Eijiro grinned. “Nah, besides -”

Pooki chomped down on his arm. A few of your friends gasped.

“Pooki!” Akari scolded. “Let him go -”

“It’s fine, she does this all the time. She thinks I’m a chew toy, see -” Eijiro hardened up his arm and moved to show the one in Pooki’s mouth. “She can’t hurt me.”

“Wait - you’re Red Riot. Aren’t you?”Akari realized.

Eijiro laughed. “You caught me! Guess my secret is out.”

“None of you are exactly hiding,” you stated, rolling your eyes. “Besides, I told you guys Katsuki was friends with heros.”

“All of you are?” Mei asked, glancing around.

“Chargebolt,” Denki announced, throwing a thumbs up and grinning.

“Pinky!” Mina laughed and held up a picture of her in costume.

“Cellophane,” Hanta said, beaming.

“Are any of you heros?” Eijrio asked.

You shook your head and smiled. “No. - We were put in the ‘Useless Quirk’ club.”

“I dunno, your quirk’s pretty cool. I’m surprised you didn’t work for the police,” Mina said.

You shrugged. “Wasn’t really into law enforcement. I’m happy running a shop.”

“[Name]’s right, though. None of us could ever make it as heros,” Haruto said. He seemed a little warmer to them now. “I can turn small objects into cubes, Akari can change her skin into whatever material she touches. Misato can make a flower sprout wherever she touches. But only one flower at a time. Yuto can change the color of his eyes, nails, hair, and teeth at will. While Mei can turn anything she touches red. And Sota, well -”

“Just say it,” Sota snapped. “I don’t have a quirk.”

It was tense and silent a moment. You wanted to hide. This was not going well.

Didn’t Katsuki tell them that your friends were coming over today?

Misato interrupted the quiet. “[Name], where are the facilities?”

“Uh - oh.” You were snapped out of your stupor. “That way and down the hall on the left.”

You couldn’t wait for Katsuki to come home.

Everybody rotated controllers. Each leaving on occasion to get water or use the bathroom.

Pooki followed everybody in and out of the room.

Everything seemed fine until Pooki started barking in the living room doorway.

You got up to see what was wrong, supposing it was just a delivery man you hadn’t heard ring the doorbell.

Instead, you followed her to the upstairs hallway. She stood with her nose pushed against the door to your nesting room.

“What’s wrong with you, silly girl?” you laughed. “If I show you there’s nothing wrong will you take a nap?”

You were not expecting the sight when you walked in. Torn blankets, charged clothes, broken pictures and knickknacks. Everything was ruined. Nothing in the room had gone untouched, except one pristine Ground Zero body pillow.

Pooki growled at your feet.

You stared. Your chest becoming a hollow cavity. So much had happened in this room. And all the fond memories held in the items were all ruined. You couldn’t stop the sob in your throat. Pooki rubbed against your leg.

You wiped at your tears. You didn’t even notice someone special had crept into the house.

“There’s my omega,” Katsuki’s voice said.

You flinched, eyeing him at the top of the stairs.

He halted in his pace when he saw your wet face. “What’s wrong? Who’s ass am I kicking?”

He came and wrapped you in his arms. You gestured to your room. As soon as he laid eyes on it, his scent became threatening, murderous.

“Yo man, you okay?” that was Eijiro, the only one brave enough to face Katsuki in this state. He was coming up the stairs.

Katsuki glared him down. “You and those idiots better not have done this.”

“Done wha -” Eijiro stopped short, staring in the room. “What happened? We’ve been downstairs all day.”

“You better not be lying -”

You stopped Katsuki. “It’s okay - alpha - I, I got this. Do you mind, Eijiro?”

Eijiro nodded. “Do what you got to.”

“Look me in the eyes.”

Eijiro did as he was instructed, and you activated your quirk. Your irises swirled with the whites of your eyes. Hypnotizing him.

“Tell me, Eijiro,” you started. “What was the purpose of your visit today? Was it to do this?”

“No,” he said robotically. “We came today because Katsuki invited us. He was worried your friends were up to something, so he sent us to watch over you. I had no part in what happened to your nest.”

You nodded and blinked, releasing him.

Eijiro blinked too, rubbing his temple. “I forgot how weird that felt. You haven’t done that since I told you Katsuki was going to ask you out. - But see. We were just here to watch out for you. Nothing more. We’re your friends [Name]. And it’s totally uncool to do this to a friend’s nest.”

Your heart sank. That meant only one thing then.

“I can go -” Katsuki started.

You shook your head. “They’re my….friends….I’ll do it.”

You took Katsuki’s hand and went to the living room. His sent still smelled like death walking.

“Everything okay?” Misato asked. “Hello, Bakugo.”

You nodded, then went to sit back between Akari and Haruto. Katsuki grunted, leaning on the doorframe with Eijiro beside him.

You waited a moment, then flinched and rubbed your eye.

“Ow - I think I have something in my eye. Can you look for me Haru?” you asked, and turned to him.

He twisted to face you. “Sure.”

You caught his eye and he realized what you were going to do. You activated your quirk before he could turn away.

“I really hate to do this. But - tell me, Haruto,” you sighed. “What was the purpose of your visit today? Was it you all who destroyed my nest?”

Mina gasped. “Wait, what?”

“Shit,” you heard Akari mutter under her breath.

Katsuki’s friends were tense, ready to tackle the first person to move and break your connection.

“We came today to see you. But also to wait for Katsuki to get home. We were going to destroy your nest, but frame him for it. That way you two would argue and break up. When his friends came, we decided to make it look like they did it. Then you’d break up with him because of his awful friends. I couldn’t bring myself to destroy anything, though. So I told Pooki to get you.”

“Wait, you ratted on us?!” Sota yelled.

“Why would you do that?” you asked, tears beginning to flood your vision.

“Because,” Haruto continued. “We wanted you back. We don’t see much of you. And Bakugo is too violent for you. He’s going to hurt you - like he does to the paparazzi and all those villains.”

You sobbed and hid your face in your hands, breaking the connection.

“We were just doing what was best for you -” Misato started.

“What would you know about what’s best for my omega?” Katsuki snapped, the thick scent of burnt caramel nearly suffocating. “Do you think hurting them like this was the best way to tell [Name] your concerns? Wouldn’t it have been better to sit them down, like normal people?! Also - you all are a bunch of fucking dunces if you think I’d ever hurt them!”

“Katsuki may have a temper, but you didn’t know him before he met [Name],” Eijiro said.

“But -” Haruto started.

“It’s true,” Denki countered. “He was totally different.”

“We didn’t even meet y’all before today, and we’re here a lot,” Mina noted. Katsuki uttered, too much under his breath. “So you obviously haven’t even made the effort to hang out with them both. And see for yourself how he is.”

“I think it’s time for you fuckers to leave,” Bakugo growled.

“We were only trying to help!” Mei shrieked.

“You were trying to solve a problem that didn’t exist!” you cried. “Just - leave. Please.”

“[Name]....” Haruto pleaded.

“Haru just - just go,” you sighed, watching as tears dripped onto the couch.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and then got up.

Once they were gone, Katsuki changed into lounge clothes and sat next to you on the couch.

Mina and Eijiro moved from the floor to a regular seat. Hanta and Denki put the kitchen chairs back and went to occupy the empty spaces.

You curled up into his protective grasped, watching as they played the new game.

Your heart, though sad with your nest being ruined, felt full knowing that you’d always have Katsuki and his friends on your side.

~*~

EIJIRO KIRISHIMA

Your mother hated the fact that you were an omega. She thought, with your parentage, you should have been an alpha.

Imagine her disgust and disappointment when you showed as an omega. The only in blood family to be.

Her rage grew when you met a hero named Red Riot once you joined an agency. An alpha with a musk like strawberry cream. He was just as sweet as he smelled.

Your mother had hoped you'd grow to be an alpha. Your scent changing, and your behavior.

Or even that you would take on alpha characteristics, even while biologically being an omega.

But you were still the same at twenty as you were at twelve when puberty hit and you emerged as an omega.

You may have been more adult in appearance and a little more patient. But you were just the same in many other aspects.

You'd taken to Red Riot right away. Although you tried not to be the clingy omega everyone else typed you as.

You didn't think he was into you. Even as he'd pat your head, and stand just close enough to rub a little scent on you.

He was Red Riot, after all. His face was all over the news, even as a first year in high school!

And you were...well, you.

Little did you know that he was just as taken.

But it wasn't just with your scent. You were gorgeous to him. And you were so kind with a smile that melted him. You'd made him so nervous the first time that he could only blurt out random facts. You found it endearing.

But none of this mattered to your family, especially your mother.

Some forgave your nature due to picking up a top hero. At least you were bonded to someone with status.

Your mother, however, had been furious when she met him. Hero or not, there was simply no way your family could be the type to be owned by someone.

It didn't matter how many times you explained that Eijiro didn't own you. She pitched fits, started arguments. Banned him from the house. She even started to lock you out!

Eijiro tried to apologize, and break it off with you. For your own good. But an explanation on the matter made him understand that nothing he did was going to help.

Not to mention, you were already so in love with him and he with you that he was quick to move you in with him.

His roommate, Ground Zero aka Katsuki Bakugo, didn't mind. As long as you "cleaned your shit up and didn't fucking bother him".

Getting your stuff was a different story.

You had to break into the house while everyone was away.

Luckily, the neighbors liked you and didn't call the cops.

Katsuki, Eijiro, and a few of your collective friends had you all moved out in a matter of hours.

The rest was history.

You knew your mother had been trying to find you for months. But you'd changed your number and gotten a new phone. Your hair was different now, and Eijiro bought you clothes you actually liked.

You were everything you wanted to be. Everything your mother hated.

But Eijiro loved you more every day. Watching you grow and become the person you were meant to be.

You were helping him grow too. And Katsuki, not like he'd ever admit it. But he did like you. And didn't mind having you as a roommate.

The trouble came a day in late autumn, both the alphas of the house were out. You were home alone, taking a week off for the impending nesting that was coming.

Katsuki was at work, and Eijiro had taken the day off to be with you. He'd run to get some groceries and supplies to keep in your nest.

With you smelling like heat, he was afraid you'd get harassed if you when on your own.

You'd been meticulously fiddling with your nest all day. Trying to get it just right, and make it big enough for two.

You'd thought nothing of it when there was a knock on the door. You'd ordered food for when the guys got back.

But, instead of a delivery person, there stood your mother. Her face unreadable.

You tried to slam the door in her face but she stuck her shoe in. She shoved the door back open, and invited herself in. Pushing you back into the apartment.

"I finally found you. You gave us all quite the scare there." Her voice dripped with the same venom you'd heard villains shout at you with. "What the hell are you wearing? And look what you did to your lovely hair!"

"Get. Out." you growled. "You are not welcome in my home."

"Home?" she laughed. "Smells like a brothel in here. You little whore. I can smell more than just your…hero...here. Look what that little red rat has turned you into -"

"That's his roommate! He already lived here when I moved in! It's not like that!"

She started to open all the doors. "Right. That's what you say now, at least. You are just a needy little omega. Just a bitch in heat. And, sooner or later, you're going to want any alpha you can knot you. Maybe even a few of them at the same time - This your nest?"

Your mother shoved open the door to room that homed your nest. The scent of Eijiro flooding out. He'd gone a little overboard with the scenting.

"It looks warm...cozy... it'd be a shame if someone ruined it all."

You stood in the doorway glaring her down. "Don't you fucking -"

"Then come back home," she snapped, narrowing her eyes at you. "Drop that sickeningly sweet alpha. And move. Back. Home. We can teach you how to be an alpha. How to let people not push you around. Look - you let me walk straight into your apartment. And you haven't laid a finger on me!"

"That's because I know you. I use my quirk and you go to the press about your abusive hero child. You'll blacken my name."

"Would I ever -"

"Yes! You would! I remember when you didn't like uncle's second wife! You smudged her name, destroyed her reputation so much she went into hiding! - I'm not going to let you do that to me."

"So you're moving back, good. Pac -"

You took a step towards her. "I'm not moving back either!"

"Fine!" your mother shouted. "Be the pathetic, useless omega you are!"

Your mother had an air quirk, she could make tornados. She kicked one up in the small room, sending objects flying. You ducked as a poster Eijiro bought you flew towards you in its metal frame.

It landed and broke somewhere in the living room.

You dove, hiding behind the couch. More things came flying. You heard clanking and shattering. You covered your ears and pinched your eyes closed tightly, a sob welling up in your chest.

You didn't hear the front door open. You didn't see them come in. You didn't notice as it went quiet.

Then a hand was on your arm. You screamed, the waves sending the person flying across the room.

"Hey," the person coughed. "Hey, [Name], it's okay! I-I-It's me!"

You opened your eyes, spying Eijiro standing up from the kitchen floor.

"Eiji!" you yelled, launching yourself into his arms. That's when the big tears began to flow and the sobs started. "Sh-She - and I - omega - useless - nest -"

"Hey, easy, I'm here now," Eijiro cooed. He wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you tightly. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I should've been here. It wasn't supposed to take that long. Wasn't very manly to leave you alone for so long. But I got mobbed by fans at the store. Katsuki came home early and called me, he's dealing with her...I've got you."

Eijiro rubbed on you, scenting you with the comfort pheromones pumping out of him.

"You fucking bitch!" Katsuki roared. "I'll fucking kill you. - Doesn't matter if they aren't my mate. - You trashed my fucking house!"

You chuckled into Eijiro's chest. The pheromones finally starting to work.

"Get moving!" Katsuki yelled. You watched as he shoved her out the room towards the front door. He had your mother in power dampening cuffs. "I'll take her to the police. You're going away for vandalism and destruction of property. You crazy bitch!"

"This is your fault [Name]! I'll ruin you all. You'll never be 'heroes' again -" your mother shrieked.

Katsuki shoved her. "Yeah, yeah, we've heard it all before. - Move!"

When they were out the door Eijiro chuckled, "And I would've gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for you meddling kids."

You chuckled, relaxing into Eijiro's embrace. But the damp, sad scent coming from you was undeniable.

"We'll fix it -"

You pulled away. "But she ruined everything. Come look."

You took his hand, guiding him to your nesting room. The tears came again as you looked around.

The pillows had stuffing bursting from them. The blankets were nothing more than shredded fabric and batting. Trinkets he bought you were broken and embedded in the walls. Picture frames were cracked, the glass shattered. Clothes were just tatters now.

You weren't getting that security deposit back.

"Everything is gone," you wheezed.

Eijiro wrapped his arms around you, tucking your head under his chin. He held you tightly.

"I should've been here to stop this, I'm so sorry. - We'll fix it, I promise. We'll make it better."

~*~

MOMO YAOYOROZU

Momo was the kind of alpha every omega wanted. She was kind, patient, and overly nurturing.

Momo went a little crazy when it came to your nesting. She had an entire fucking treehouse built, and had dozens of the lushest blankets and pillows imported.

She was a spoiler.

Your happiness and comfort was her number one priority. Even if you begged her to stop spending so much on you.

But Creati's love knew no bounds. Neither did her spending habits.

So it pained her when, after a lovely day together, she had to sit you down in your nest and break a bit of bad news.

"[Name] you know I love you, right?" Momo asked. You were curled up under her chin. Nose against the rose-scented gland in her neck.

You hummed, squeezing her tightly. She gently pushed you away. "Mocchan, what's wrong?"

She smoothed a hand through your hair. "I'm having some old classmates over for some really important hero business tomorrow."

"Oh," you muttered. "You don't want me around."

"It's not that I don't want you around!" she panicked. "It's just really important and top secret, and you...can't know what's going on. Not yet. And unless it's super important, we can't have any interruptions."

You nodded, a little sad. But you understood. It was crucial hero stuff. "Okay, Momo, I won't bother you guys. I'll stay in my nesting tree."

She smiled, wrapping you back up again. Momo was going to make sure she gave you extra love tonight. To make up for the following day.

The next morning, it was starting to get cloudy when Bakugo, Kirishima, and Todoroki showed up at Momo's door.

You two had just finished brunch, so you went to hide in your nest. You had everything you needed to keep occupied in there.

Momo took the group to the dining room and shut all the doors. Then drew the curtains. If they were so sure their agencies were bugged, she didn't understand why they were having this meeting at her house.

Then again, it didn't really matter. Todoroki was a close friend, but it was more than that. The four of them went through hell together in high school. They'd go through hell together now.

They locked down, ready to plan for whatever was coming.

Momo made sure she sent food out to you. Cause she knew you'd forget to eat. While she had the house make tea and snacks for her and the guys.

They sat for hours, mauling over all the information they had.

The sky outside got darker and darker.

Before you knew it, it was thundering and lightening. The rain was sheeting down. The winds howled frighteningly outside.

It was dark out when you fell asleep. You didn't know what time.

Your tree rumbling and groaning woke you up sometime later though. Trinkets vibrated off the walls, crashing to the ground.

You panicked, wanting it to stop. You didn’t know what was happening.

Then there was a huge CA-RACK and you along with everything in the room flew towards one wall.

Before you knew it, you were covered by pieces of wood, glass shards, and ripped pillows. You could see the grass under you.

You groaned crawling out from the debris into the rain. Something sharp caught your calf and cut you all the way down. You hissed.

You stumbled into the open. The treehouse was in shambles. The tree split in half. And your darling nest and building were scattered all over the yard.

Nothing was salvageable. You would've cried if you weren't pumped full of adrenaline.

"Does this qualify as important?" you wondered aloud. But the stinging in your leg gave you the answer. You didn't want to look down at the cut. Too afraid of what you'd find.

You trailed blood, rain, and mud through the marble halls as you found the dining room.

You could hear them inside, but couldn't understand what they were saying.

Your heart was pounding. You felt bad interrupting.

"Are you alright? - The mistress will want to know about this. I do believe that needs stitches," said the butler outside the door. His eyes were wide, staring at the gash on your leg.

You nodded, swallowing thickly. Then pushed open the door to pop your head in.

"Uh, Mocchan…" you muttered weakly.

Todoroki turned to you. His mouth settled into a hard line. His forehead creased in worry.

You smiled at him weakly and waved.

Two pairs of eyes watched you from the other side of the table. You didn't really know them, but you knew who they were.

You waved at them too.

Her back was to you. "[Name], I told you -"

Momo stopped as she turned to you. Her eyes grew wide at the blood trickling down your face.

Momo pulled you into the room. You whimpered at the sick pain shooting through your leg. She moved the papers around and sat you on the table.

"Are you okay? - Well obviously not. - Why do you look like this, [Name]? What happened?! I thought you were in the treehouse -"

You were caught off guard by a sob in your throat. "It's all gone."

"Gone?! What do you mean it's gone?!" Momo began to make gauze, a towel, and wipes for your leg. You hissed as she sopped up some blood then wiped the cut down. But she kept fumbling as she tried to wrap it.

She couldn't take her eyes off the puddle of blood that had dripped on the floor.

"I - I don't know. The tree just...broke? And everything just…" You made an explosion noise. "It's all gone…"

The adrenaline pumping through Momo made her shakey. The gauze was just not wrapping.

"Dude, I think you should go to the hospital!" Kirishima said.

"Can I?" Todoroki asked.

He gestured to your leg, then glanced between the two of you. You both nodded. He put your foot on his stomach and began to wrap the cut up tightly.

Momo held your hand, not wanting to be away from you.

"Sorry I'm muddy," you muttered.

Todoroki shook his head. "It's fine, I wash. But you really should get to the er."

"But your meeting -"

"Screw the meeting," snapped the blonde behind you. "The three of us can stay here. Ponytail, get your omega to a doctor."

You pouted. "But Momo -"

Momo wrapped you immediately in her arms as Todoroki stepped away. She squeezed you tightly, her face pressing her face into your neck. "No, you're going. They're right. That looks bad. And we need to get your head looked. You could have a concussion."

"I'm sorry I got blood on the floor."

Momo laughed sadly. "Stop that. It's fine."

You wiped at the tears on her face as she pulled away. But it didn't help when you were wet from the rain.

Momo began wiping at your face too. She tried to absorb the blood trickling down your forehead.

"Let's get you a hospital."

Momo hauled you up on her back and piggybacked you out to the waiting car, although you offered to walk.

She was tense and silent for the whole ride. Gripping your hand as though you might slip away from her.

You arrived and were quickly put up in a room.

When the doctor came in he checked you over, confirming the need for stitches on your leg.

They simply cleaned up the cut on your forehead and used a bit of liquid stitch to keep it from bleeding again.

After your leg was stitched up, you were taken to be scanned and examined.

"You're lucky," the doctor said, looking over your results. "No internal bleeding or injuries. No broken bones. No concussion. Just some strained muscles. You can go home tonight. Make sure you keep your leg clean, the stitches can come out in four to six weeks. I’ll caution you against strenuous activity in the meantime, you don’t want to tear those. We’ll send you with some pain medication, you can take it as instructed."

You weren't surprised at the verdict of nothing being broken. That was your quirk after all - indestructible bones.

They were made of light but durable material with complex structures that made them very hard to break.

That didn't do much for your skin or organs though.

You and Momo thanked the doctor. The relief was visible on your alpha’s face.

She piggybacked you to the car again.

"You can sleep with my tonight, if you want to,” Momo said once you two were settled. She put an arm around you to tug you into a side hug. “I'm sorry you went through that alone. That must've been scary."

"We couldn't know that would happen," you whispered, hugging her back.

She kissed the top of your head. “We can rebuild, make everything better -”

“I’d rather have a room in the manor to make my nest. If that’s okay?”

You couldn’t see it, but Momo was crying again. “Of course. I want to keep you close.”

When you arrived back at the manor, you waited briefly on a couch outside of the dining room. Momo was catching up with what the guys had come up with.

They wished you well before leaving.

“Let’s go get you cleaned up.” Momo guided you to her bathroom and ran a bath in the large clawfoot tub.

You undressed and climbed in, then Momo did the same. You leaned back against her, her chin on your shoulder.

The warm water untensed all your knotted muscles.

Momo held you closely. “I promise, I’ll never leave you alone again.”

~*~

MINA ASHIDO

Mina loved Denki to death, he was one of her best friends. But he just did not treat his poor omega right.

Mina thought she could do it better.

She'd wanted to court you long before Denki did. She was just too nervous.

What if you didn't want a female alpha?

Honestly, she seared with jealousy when you came into work freshly scented like him.

You were happy. So that made her happy.

But your rose colored glasses didn't last long. Mina saw through your facade immediately.

You didn't smile as brightly whenever Chargebolt came in.

You didn't happily call him "alpha" as you'd done before.

In fact, you nearly hid every time you saw him.

And it didn't take long before Mina saw why - Denki seemed to think omega was equal to pack mule who bends to every whim.

He made you carry his stuff, then would pat your head and baby talk you.

He was always having you get stuff. And brag about how good you were. But complain that you were whinier than he'd expected.

Mina hadn't heard you complain about his actions once!

She didn't think it was her place to tell you to break up with him. But all the hints she tried to slip Denki about how he was treating you went in one ear and out the other.

She wasn't the only one to see it either. But she was the only one who bothered to help.

It pained her to watch you. To see you struggling to keep a smile on.

"I don't think it works like that," you told her when Mina finally told you to cut it off. "I don't think omegas can break it off with alphas."

"You are a strong, independent omega, [Name]," Mina scolded. "You need to stand up for yourself. You can do whatever you want. You're still your own person."

Honestly, you hadn't really even wanted Denki as your alpha. But no one else had shown an interest in you. Especially not Mina. Not in your mind, anyway.

Mina had been the one you wanted to court you. But Denki came along first. And he was kind of pushy.

So you accepted. It didn't take you long to regret it.

Nothing about it felt right. You felt like a maid, not a mate. You were pretty sure that wasn't what an alpha was supposed to make you feel like.

Denki couldn't even relax you. He didn't seem like he wanted to help you with your issues at all.

In fact, he made it all worse.

Denki had even invited himself and his friends to your apartment. Only giving you a day's notice.

He wasn't going to help with food or cleaning. He laughed and said that you could figure it out.

You were at your wits end.

You were Starlight, one of the top heroes in your agency. Not a doormat.

Still, you scrambled to clean. Mina came over to help. You tried to get food and snacks together. You updated your gaming system. Pulled out any movies and board games you could find.

Your house was visitor friendly by the time the weekend rolled around.

You'd never actually met three people who came. But you knew of them. Each being heroes that were in class with Mina and Denki during high school.

You'd also run into them when you were out with Denki. But he didn't have the courtesy to introduce you.

They introduced themselves as Bakugo, Kirishima, and Sero.

"Are you sure you're cool with this?" Kirishima asked, lingering in the doorway. Denki was already being loud with the other two.

"Would you shut up? We just got here," Bakugo snapped.

You shrugged. "I guess I have to be. Right?"

Kirishima's face twisted up into something between disapproving and pitying.

He hesitated before going into the living room. You saw him speak briefly with Mina. Their eyes flicking to you every now and then.

"I didn't know you had all these, Denk," Sero noted, flipping through your game library.

Denki shrugged coolly. "Yeah, you know -"

"Don't let him fool you," Mina interrupted. "Those are [Name]'s. Denki doesn't even have the newest generation console."

"Yeah, Denki's is an old brick," you joked.

"Baabbbee," he whined.

The guys chuckled, and you caught Denki's face flush red.

"Whatever, it's not that impressive," he huffed and stalked off to the kitchen.

You watched quietly after.

"You guys can play whatever you want," you offered. "I don't get to very often. So don't worry about copying over any saves. - Denki did that on the one game I did play…"

You trailed off awkwardly, earning you weird looks.

"I'll get snacks."

Mina trailed after you when there was a crash.

Denki was standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring at the plate of food he dropped.

"Uh, sorry. You mind cleaning that up? Thanks. Oh and don't forget to bring out some sodas for everyone. Love you!" Then he ran to join Sero and Bakugo in the living room.

"I'll help you," Mina said, and you pointed her to the broom closet.

"That was super unmanly," Kirishima noted, grabbing some paper towels. "Does he always do this?"

"Uh, n -" you stuttered.

"All. The. Time," Mina groaned quietly.

You sighed, taking a few paper towels. "Mina, don't -"

"But you don't deserve to be treated this way!" She aggressively swept across the kitchen.

"Mina's got a point, dude. He's my friend, but it's super uncool of him -"

"The hell happened here?" Bakugo grunted.

"Denki." You three said in unison.

Bakugo rolled his eyes. "You got anything to drink?"

"I was going to - I can -" you started, beginning to stand. You hissed as a piece of plate cut your palm.

"I can get it myself, just tell me where it's at. I'm a grownass adult."

Mina stood carefully. "I'll get you a band-aid. Bathroom cabinet, right?"

You nodded at her, then pointed to the fridge. "Whatever I have is in there. Sorry it's not much. I wasn't sure what you all liked and Denki refused to go to the store with me -"

"He's kind of a crappy alpha, isn't he?" Sero asked joining the party in your small kitchen. "Don't worry. He's watching a tutorial on how to play the game."

"You know, if you're not happy with him, you can dump his dumb ass," Bakugo noted. He tossed Sero a soda can. "Just because he's an alpha doesn't mean that he gets to decide everything."

Kirishima stood and dumped the paper towels of food you'd both collected in the trash can, before washing his hands. "Yeah, it's your relationship too."

He then grabbed the broom and began sweeping.

"He's our friend but he's being an idiot, we're on your side." Sero gave you a grin and a thumbs up.

"Uh, thanks, guys," you muttered.

"I finally found you a bandage," Mina announced. "Let me see your hand."

You stood and put your hand in hers, palm up. The touch put you at ease.

"It doesn't look too bad. Let's clean you up."

You let her lead you to the sink and wash your hand. Then she dried it and put antiseptic ointment on it before sticking the band-aid over it.

Your whole body filled with heat as she kissed the back of your hand. Then she grinned at you.

The guys could feel and smell the shift as soon as Mina started taking care of you.

It was unvocalized but unanimous - you needed to dump Denki for Mina.

Once the kitchen was clean again, everyone crowded the living room.

"Hey, babe, it's kind of chilly. You got any blankets?" Denki asked.

You shook your head. "No."

"But I'm coollldd," Denki groaned.

"I haven't washed blankets in a while."

He groaned, but conceded as you sat close to him.

After a bit, your body heat didn't seem to be effective enough for him.

Denki got up and disappeared. You didn't think anything of it.

No until he came out into the living room a few minutes later with a pile of pillows and blankets. Special ones.

Your heart stopped. "D-Denki...where did you get those?"

"These? Oh - the second bedroom. So much for not having any clean -"

You bolted to the spare room. You couldn't believe your eyes. You sank to the ground. He'd ruined the carefully crafted nest you'd been building for years.

"Hey, [Name], are you okay?" Mina asked softly behind you.

"My nest," you uttered. Tears welled up, threatening to spill.

Mina put a hand on your shoulder. Getting immediately what you meant.

"Hey, babe, can you -" Denki started.

You shot him a glare. He stopped in his tracks.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked incredulously.

"You ruined their nest, idiot!" Mina snapped. A glare beaming from her dark eyes. "What the fuck is your problem, Denki?! You have like...the most perfect omega, and this is how you treat them?!"

Your heart leapt, heat rushing into your face at the words.

"What're you talking about? [Name] is happy to -"

"No," you sobbed. "I'm not. I'm not your maid. I'm supposed to be your mate. But…"

"You treat [Name] like garbage!" Mina kneeled to wrap an arm around your shoulders.

"But you're my omega -" he started, a little desperation in his voice.

"No!" you yelled. "Not...not anymore. We're done. Just - get out!"

"But -"

"Out!" Your eyes flashed a deadly shade of blue-white.

You leaned into Mina. She sighed, and held you tightly. She was pumping out comfort pheromones.

You eased right away. Nothing like this had happened with Denki.

"Fine. C'mon guys, let go -" he started.

"Not them," you sniffled. "Just you. They can stay if they want."

Denki held a smug face until he realized no one was going with him. "Oh come on guys!"

"Sorry, dude," Sero said awkwardly.

Kirishima shrugged. "But you did kind of treat them like dirt."

"You're a dumbass," Bakugo snapped, not even looking up from the game. "You fried your brain one too many times."

Denki looked like he wanted to say something snarky.

"Denki, dude. You fucked up," Mina said over her shoulder. "Just...leave. You already ruined [Name]'s nest."

"Fine!" he pouted and slammed the front door as he left.

"Can I see your phone, please?" Mina asked softly. You handed it to her, just in time to have Denki call. He was too predictable. She rejected the call and blocked his number.

“I guess I can always rebuild it,” you muttered. “I need to wash everything. It reeks like him.”

Mina nodded. “I’ll help.”

You and Mina spent the day washing all the sheets and shirts and blankets that had been in your nest.

You were more content around her than you’d been in a while. You hadn’t realized that she didn’t mind you being glued to her side.

Even when she made sure to stay late into the night so you could finish your nest.

You didn’t even question letting her in, it felt like the most natural decision in the world.

~*~

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lost-in-sokovia · 4 years

Text

Hot Boy Summer

hiiiii! i’m so freaking excited to write this! this is for a challenge started by a few of my friends @captain-a-rogerss @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho and @donutloverxo !! you should really check it out under #CaptainsWeeklyChallenge ! anyway, i hope you enjoy! (ps: not putting anyone’s requests on hold, i just wanted to make sure i got this done. all requests are still in the making!🤍)

Warnings: swearing, fluff, suggestive content but nothing bad or mature

Prompt: “You’re such a brat.”

One of your favorite pastimes with Meg was annoying her older cousin, Ransom.

Was it because you had a crush on him? Don’t judge, that’s rude. You and Meg were close and she regularly brought you home with her for family holidays. It always exhausted you to be around that chaotic family, and even though Ransom was a total babe and in reality annoyed the hell out of you, you never admitted it. Joni, Meg’s mother, always had the persona and mannerisms that conveyed was high. Always her long and dragged out “hello, (Y/N)” with the hug and asking about your chakras and horoscope or whatever. She got on your last nerve most of the time and Meg found that hilarious. You knew deep down Joni was a good person and wanted the best for her daughter, but my god could she run you up a wall.

Meg’s grandfather was a sweetheart, but the rest of that family was absolutely out of their goddamn minds. And though he was insane, Ransom was drop dead hot. You never quite minded his smartass remarks, his cold glares, or the fact he thought his family was an absolute joke. It all just kinda rolled out of your head when you’d see those captivating sky blue eyes and evil smirk.

Meg had first thought it was a joke when you confessed your crush on Ransom to her one long night at school. She’d laughed, but after looking at your nervous face she stared. “What the hell?” She had asked. Your face was a combination of paleness and being flushed. You shrugged shakily. “I don’t know... he’s hot, Meg!” She scoffed, flipping back her long brown hair. “He might be hot to you, but he’s a hot prick. Doesn’t being a prick kinda cancel out being hot?” She pointed out sternly. “You know I’ve got a thing for bad boys,” you mumbled sheepishly in defense. She laughed again. “(Y/N), this isn’t some movie where everyone wants to date the hot villain. Do not date the hot villain in this situation!” She yelled. You gave her a sad glare before standing up and falling face first onto your dorm bed.

Now you weren’t dating him yet, but you sure as hell were next to him any chance you got. At first he thought it was funny, one of Meg’s college friends having a cute crush on him. But as time progressed and you became more in his way and more obnoxious to him, it made his blood boil.

It was the end of exams and summer was finally here. You were staying with Meg all summer and thrilled you were going to have opportunities to see Ransom. As you got more and more anxious the days leading up, Meg had made you promise you weren’t going to get so attached to Ransom or even forget you were there with her, and you agreed. You’d packed all your clothes (making sure to pack that one bikini that always got attention) and belongings and were on a plane to Massachusetts in no time.

When you’d arrived at Harlan’s, you were greeted with a big hug from Joni. “(Y/N), how are you sweetie?” She asked with a light tap on the back. You forced a laugh and smiled awkwardly. “I’m great Joni, h-how are you? How’s Flam?” you asked in an effort to move the topic off you as your patience lowered every time she opened her mouth. She smiled with accomplishment as she opened her mouth. “Oh you know, it reached two million followers yesterday on Insta, no biggie.” She was obviously fishing for compliments.

“Well congrats, that’s amazing,” you nodded with gritted teeth. She waved a hand and rolled her eyes slightly. “Did you get that moisturizer I sent you?” She asked. You looked over at Meg with eyes wide with annoyance and she quickly came up to help. “Yeah mom she really enjoyed it... We’re going to go get settled,” Meg explained quickly as you gave a small wave before following her.

You exhaled heavily as Meg led you up to her room. She scoffed in amusement. “Ready for a whole summer of Joni Thrombey?” She asked. You laughed under your breath and shook your head with wide eyes. “Mm, maybe Joni could just hook me up with her nephew instead...” you replied suggestively. Meg rolled her eyes and sighed. “(Y/N), he thinks you’re one of the most annoying people to have ever walked the planet, mostly because you’re friends with me. But still I don’t see your chances getting higher with that asshole,” she said. You frowned, unzipping one of your suitcases.

“Okay but I brought that one really sexy bikini I have and I’m not going to get a wedgie for nothing so he better at least say I’m not the most annoying or I look hot or something,” you huffed. Meg laughed, picking up the swimsuit and tossing it at your face.

~•~•~•~•~

Though the first day was uneventful, full of unpacking, saying your hellos and greeting everyone, calling to update your parents, eating, and sleeping, the next day was when the real fun began.

Harlan had decided it would be “nice” to get the family together since all the kids were now off school. You had raved to Meg how excited you were to see Ransom and try to prove you were a grown college woman and totally girlfriend (or wife, but baby steps right?) material. She groaned when she heard the news and hit her head against a wall.

“What? It’ll be so fun!” You tried to reason as Meg glared in the mirror while applying her makeup. She put product in her wavy brown hair and sighed. “Yeah it’ll be fun for you. You happen to forget that Ransom is just one member of this family, this very chaotic and hell raising family,” she bit. You scoffed and slipped a crop top on. “You’re just jealous because I might get a boyfriend.” You stuck your tongue out.

Meg was just about to argue back when you heard the front door downstairs being opened with muffled greetings. You sprinted over to your closed door and concentrated hard for any sign of the name “Ransom.” You pressed your ear hard against the door and your eyes lit up as you finally heard the name you’d been waiting for. Your heart rate picked up and you looked back to Meg, who was applying mascara unenthusiastically.

“You’re going to annoy the shit out of him,” she warned quietly. You glared. “No I’m not... I swear I’m mature. Mature enough to be attractive though, not like some stuck up old librarian lady or something,” you explained nervously. Meg laughed. “This is coming from the girl who still sleeps with a nightlight,” she retorted. You flipped her off with a fake smile before slipping out the door.

You ran down the long flights of stairs (nearly knocking into poor Fran, who was just trying to escape Ransom) and breathed quickly. You nearly tripped down the last few steps and cursed under your breath before catching up with a particular tall, dark haired man. You slipped in front of him and smiled smugly at him.

“Hey Ransom,” you greeted as chill as possible. He was more beautiful than you remembered (even though you had just seen him at Christmas); his hair was cut a little shorter, he wasn’t hiding under cable knit sweaters or long overcoats, and his blue eyes caught the sunlight. When he saw you his mouth parted and he stared with furrowed eyebrows for a moment. His head then tilted back as he groaned loudly.

“Meg!” He yelled. “Come get your dumb friend out of my way!” You blinked a couple times before leaning against the knight’s armour in the hallway. “No look Ransom, I’m just here to chill with Meg all summer. It’s not a huge deal. It’s totally fine, you’ll have no trouble from me,” you offered. He raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “Yeah that’s what you told me at Christmas, then you tried to kiss me under the mistletoe,” he retorted with a bitter laugh. You cringed; yeah, you had hit the holly jollies a little too much that night. You cleared your throat and began to trail Ransom as he began to walk away from you.

“Well lucky for you there’s no mistletoe in the summer,” you replied sarcastically. “Yeah, but there’s still you,” Ransom bit back in mock sarcasm. You halted to a stop and gaped at him as he continued to walk off. Damn, he really came for you.

As you stared, Harlan had appeared behind you and greeted you with a pat on the back. “So, have you said your hellos to Ransom?” He asked. You nodded, your eyes still focused down the hall. “Mhm,” you hummed back. He chuckled lightly before walking off slowly, and you scoffed as Ransom’s remark echoed in your head.

Not a big deal; a big girl like you could handle Ransom’s snarky remarks, right?

~•~•~•~

After plenty of lame and useless attempts at trying to get Ransom’s attention just through basic human interaction, you’d decided it was time to put that bikini to use.

Who knew there was easy access to a pool out where Harlan lived? You thanked your lucky stars that the white suit wouldn’t just be taking up space in your suitcase. Sure, most of the Thrombeys were now gathered and would probably be there as well, but you get what you get right? You slipped it on in the bathroom connected to Meg’s room and sighed, already pulling the bottoms out of all the uncomfortable places it didn’t belong. You looked at yourself in the mirror and raised your eyebrows. Wow, dressing for a man and not yourself; you never thought you would stoop so low for a crush.

You opened the door and met Meg with her emerald green bikini as she whistled and looked you up and down. “Damn sis! All this for my asshole older cousin?” She asked as you rolled your eyes. “I know, I was thinking the same thing,” you mumbled back. She grinned sarcastically as she grabbed the sunglasses from her dresser. “Yeah, it’s a good thing you’re not obsessed with him or anything, that would be weird,” she commented with heavy sarcasm. You laughed monotonely and threw a small bottle of sunscreen at her arm.

“Whatever, let’s get going. I wanna get out of this suit asap,” you mumbled before opening the door. Meg followed you out and snorted from behind. “(Y/N) it’s already riding up your ass,” She commented. Your face felt hot (from both embarrassment and how annoying Meg was being) and you spit out the first argument that came to mind: “Well maybe I want it there, Meg.”

You trotted through the full house and outside and plopped onto one of the long, clothed chairs perfect for tanning. Ransom was over in a shaded corner reading from a Playboy magazine (to which you thought why was he looking at pictures of women in bikinis when there was one right in front of him?) through dark sunglasses. His hair was combed back with no gel or product in it and he wore dark blue swimming trunks with no shirt. Jacob was in the shadows behind him with his eyes glued to his phone screen, the damn kid. You however couldn’t help but stare for a moment at Ransom’s abs as you blinked and took a deep breath. You laid your head back down and closed your eyes for a moment as you let the sun warm your entire body. “Damn Ransom,” you muttered bitterly.

“Alright this place better not turn into some splash pad for three year olds now that you’re here,” Ransom announced. You opened your eyes and looked back over, his eyes still glued to the magazine. You scoffed loudly in exaggeration as Meg shook her head in astonishment at you. “Please Ransom, we’re just out here to do the same exact thing as you; chill,” you called back. Joni who was drinking champagne in the hottub glanced over briefly. “Meg! (Y/N)! Looking totally adorable girls! Love the self love!” She complimented as hip as she could get.

“Yeah thanks mom,” Meg called back i enthusiastically. Ransom rolled his eyes and looked up to see what the fuss was about and was dumbstruck when he did.

God, did you have to look so hot in that swimsuit? Your skin glowed in the sun as your crossed one leg over the other. That swimsuit was very small... His eyes traveled from your legs to your bare stomach up to- no, no. He looked back down and exhaled loudly. No, think about how annoying you are. He wasn’t going to stare at you. No... He felt awkward. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Ransom never thought he’d feel something towards you. It was weird, he questioned his standards and tried to take his mind off you. This was really conflicting and he’d never thought so much into a hot girl- no he wasn’t going to call you hot.

While Ransom sat in the corner and tried to handle his frustration, you layed in the sun and pitied yourself. You basically tried everything. If Ransom wasn’t going to pay attention to you in this, there was no hope. You frowned and stretched your arms and legs before crossing them again.

You glanced over at Ransom, who’s eyes you’d found staring at you. (He couldn’t do it. He looked back at you, sprawled out on the chair. Screw his reputation, he wasn’t going to pass this up.) You blinked a few times before raising an eyebrow. “Like what you see, Ransom?” You asked suggestively. He scoffed in astonishment and shook his head. “You’re such a brat,” he mumbled. You smiled wickedly and sat up. Meg looked over and tried to grab your arm. “(Y/N), where are you going?” She asked. You looked back as you made your way to the pool. “Just going for a swim because I’m getting a little hot in the sun,” you explained casually.

Ransom shook his head and chuckled under his breath. “Really, (Y/N)? This is what we’re gonna play?” He asked somewhat aggressively. You looked over and shrugged innocently. “What are we playing, Ransom? Can’t a girl get in the pool if she needs to be cooled off?” You lowered your sunglasses for a moment and winked. He glared with a mouth opened in shock; since when did you start acting like this? Where was Meg’s college friend who had a cute little crush on him?

You were milking the hell out of this. You enjoyed feeling somewhat in control over Ransom. His frustration amused you, and you were pretty sure he’d pop at any second.

You stepped into the cool water and shivered slightly. You slowly continued to submerge your body and looked back over at your target. He held his head with his fingers against his temple, his mouth slightly parted. You grinned smugly before placing your glasses to the side and going completely under the crystal clear water.

Jacob looked up briefly from his phone and laughed viciously. “Seriously, Ransom?” Ransom turned around and held a finger close to his face. “One more comment out of you and that goddamn phone finds a new home at the bottom of that pool,” he snarled. Jacob rolled his eyes before looking back down while Ransom whipped back around.

You hair was now wet and water drops speckled your chest and arms. Ransom groaned and threw his magazine on the ground before standing up. You glanced over and did your best to hold back laughter from the scene Ransom was causing. He began to quickly walk towards you and you full on laughed.

“Ransom don’t get your britches in a bunch,” Meg commented from her chair. She’d given up; you were a lost cause. You were under the spell of her disgusting older cousin and all she could do was sit back and watch the curse take its course.

You waited for Ransom at the edge of the underground pool and put your arms on the warm concrete. He kneeled in front of you and you raised an eyebrow. The sun reflected off the water and Ransom tried his best to keep his eyes on you through his dark sunglasses. “You think this is funny?” He bit. You shrugged. “Little bit. I’m only having fun if you are though,” you replied smoothly. “Trying to make me look like a perv? You knew exactly what you were doing when you put that goddamn bikini on. A little small (Y/N), don’t you think?” He whispered harshly. You stared at his angry expression before glancing around at the oblivious grownups in the yard.

“Glad your family isn’t paying attention, huh?” You remarked. He growled lowly and you smiled. “Come on Ransom,” you urged plainly. “You know you want to.” Ransom raised an eyebrow. “Do what?” He hissed. You puckered your lips for a brief second and winked teasingly. He laughed bitterly.

“Jesus Christ,” he growled before putting his index finger under your chin and pulling you into a rough kiss. You shifted your weight onto your arms and pushed yourself up higher and further into the kiss.

Your stomach twisted and turned and you felt like screaming in victory.

He pulled away and glared in defeat as you smirked. “Now that wasn’t that hard, was it?” You cooed. He sighed. “You’re a real bitch, you know?” He asked. You hummed amusingly. “Yeah Meg would know a lot about that.”

haaaaaa i hope you enjoyed! i loved writing this and i hope you enjoyed! (and of course thanks to my girl @lookalivefrosty for getting me through a rough spot where i didn’t know wtf to do😂)

339 notes · View notes

writingblock101 · 4 years

Text

Insufferable (Damian Wayne x Reader)

Request for anon: “Would you write a Damian fic that’s him basically being a total brat in the beginning and immediately starting an antagonistic or combative relationship only to be thrown on his ass when he’s like wait?? I think I actually like her?? How do I get her to stop arguing with me??

Word Count: 3,700

Tags: @idkmanicantenglish @mayahoelland2013

You and Damian are 12 at the beginning of this. Enjoy!

“That was awesome!” Jon grins. “But watch this!” He fires laser beams from his eyes at the target down the range.

“Whoa!” You cheer. “Oh, I got another one!” You notch and fire six consecutive arrows, hitting the target in the pattern of a smiley face.

Jon laughs.

“Can you do any other shapes?”

“I’m working on doing animals. Roy thinks it’s funny, and Jason wants me to learn how to spell out messages,” You grin proudly.

You started as a street rat in Star City inspired by Green Arrow and Arsenal but you bit off a little more than you could chew. Good thing Arsenal was there to watch your back then he found himself in possession of a protege. To this day, Roy swears he still doesn’t know how you talked him into training you, but Jason told you he has a soft spot for street kids.

You’re at the Justice League Watch Tower because apparently the Justice League wants to work out a deal with the Outlaws or something. You think it’s stupid, but you guess you can give credit to League for trying to bridge the gap between themselves and the Outlaws. Batman has failed for years to do so effectively, but then again, for the world’s greatest detective, Batman is kind of a dumbass.

Luckily, you didn’t have to sit in on the shit show because Superman brought Superboy with him, and apparently Batman is bringing Robin. Jon speaks highly of Damian, but Jason refers to him as the “demon child”. Then again, Jason didn’t like Tim for a long time, but you think Tim is cool, so maybe Jason’s wrong about Damian.

“Oh, great, another arrow,” A new voice groans from behind you.

“Damian!” Jon grins. “This is Y/N, Black Falcon!”

“I was expecting someone more impressive, but perhaps I had my standards too high for an arrow,” Damian narrows his eyes.

Okay, maybe Jason wasn’t wrong...

“Funny,” You raise an eyebrow. “I thought Robin would be taller.”

“I am a perfectly adequate height,” He growls.

“Okay, pipsqueak.”

Damian rolls his eyes again.

“It’s clear you’ve been living with Todd by your childish insults.”

“At least I don’t get mistaken for a nine-year-old.”

“Perhaps that is a problem you have. I am twelve.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You watch his jaw clench, a smirk working onto your face. It’s almost cute how hard he is pretending to not be annoyed by you.

“Y/N was showing me her archery skills! Look, she can make shapes!” Jon points toward the target downrange, probably hoping to diffuse the situation quickly building between you and Damian.

Damian rolls his eyes, looking unimpressed.

“What tactical advantage does shooting your arrows in a smiley face give you?”

“None,” You admit, slinging your bow over your shoulder. “But I bet you can’t do something more impressive.”

You see him rising to the bait as he glares at you.

“I don’t stoop to childish competitions to prove myself.”

“Come on, Dami,” Jon pleads. “Show us the trick with the Batarang and the apple!”

Damian whips around to glare at Jon for exposing him partaking in “childish competitions” while your mischievous smile deepens.

“Unless you’re scared of your party trick looking lame,” You taunt.

“It’s not a party trick!” Damian barks.

“Right because I’m sure you have a lot of use for being able to throw Batarangs at apples in the field,” You roll your eyes.

“Target practice,” Damian snaps.

“And a normal target wouldn’t work?”

Damian glares at you for a long minute.

“Whatever,” He mutters, shoving past Jon toward another room.

“Does this mean you’re going to do it?” Jon asks hopefully.

“Fine.”

“Yes!” Jon grins, then motions for you to follow him. “Come on! We’ve gotta go get apples from the cafeteria!”

“There’s a cafeteria in here?” You dazedly question, following Jon and Damian.

“Tt,” Damian rolls his eyes.

While the Outlaws have some cool technology (especially Kori’s ship!), most of their technology pales in comparison to the Justice League’s resources. Damian retrieves apples while Jon explains some of the other technology around the Watch Tower. The three of you return to the training room then Jon tosses an apple into the air.

Damian throws three Batarangs, slicing the apple into six even pieces in midair. He glances back at you, looking smug. You will admit, his accuracy is impressive. You’ve thrown knives before and it’s hard to be accurate throwing one knife at a moving object, much less three and slicing the target evenly, but of course, you can’t show that you’re impressed.

“Hey, Jon, can you slice one of these apples mid-air with your laser eyes?” You ask. “I’ve got an idea.”

Jon grins and eagerly throws an apple in a high arch, then cuts it with a blast of his laser eyes. You notch an arrow and fire it through the two apple halves, pinning it to the wall before it can hit the ground.

“Nice,” Jon praises while Damian looks bored. “My turn,” He hands you an apple to throw.

You toss it for him and Jon flashes his laser eyes again, but this time when the apple hits the ground, there’s a zig-zag pattern wrapped around it.

“That was cool!” You grin.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Damian looking at the apple with an impressed expression.

“Toss two at once,” You tell Jon, notching an arrow.

He throws two apples into the air, then you fire your arrow through both apples, pinning them to the wall.

“Tt,” Damian rolls his eyes. “Throw two more,” He tells Jon.

Jon grins, then throws two more apples. Damian throws a Batarang, one side of it catching one apple and the other burying itself into the other apple so that by the time the Batarang hits the floor, both apples are embedded on either side of it.

“I bet I can hit an apple before you can slice it with a Batarang,” You challenge Damian.

A smirk crosses his face.

“Be prepared to be disappointed.”

. . .

By the time Roy came to get you, you, Jon, and Damian had ran out of apples. Instead, Damian was throwing one of his Batarangs with a hole in the center of it while you tried to fire an arrow through the hole.

You notch another arrow then nod at Damian. He tosses the Batarang. You follow it with your arrow through the high arch then release, the arrow flying through the air and through the hole in the middle of the Batarang.

“Yes!” You cheer, high fiving Jon and Damian.

“Damian! Do you think you can hit one of Y/N’s arrows mid-air?” Jon asks.

Damian glances over at you for a moment.

“I can hit one of Y/N’s arrows easily, but will Y/N be able to hit one of my Batarangs?” He taunts.

“I could hit it in my sleep.”

Before Damian could remark with something witty, Roy interrupts.

“And as much as I would love to watch that, I don’t feel like replacing all your arrows yet. Come on, let’s go home.”

You frown at Roy but turn to Jon and Damian.

“Next time,” You promise, then follow Roy out of the room.

Jon and Damian watch you two leave then Jon turns to Damian with a grin.

“Y/N is cool. I like her.”

Damian rolls his eyes.

“She’s insufferable.”

“Sure,” Jon agrees knowingly.

Damian glares at him, ignoring the mischievous smile on Jon’s face.

. . .

You’ve never been to the Manor before, but a few months after the Justice League meeting, Jason had to retrieve some intel from Batman, and Roy sent you along with him to make sure Jason doesn’t start a fight with his foster father. He says Jason wants to set a good example for you so he won’t get in a fistfight with Bruce while you’re there.

“Alright, come on,” Jason ruffles your hair. “I know you want to see the Batcave.”

Currently, you’re sitting in the kitchen, chatting with Alfred, but at the mention of the Batcave, your face lights up.

“Thanks for the sandwich, Alfred!” You grin, chasing Jason out of the room.

“Of course,” He smiles.

Jason leads you over to the grandfather clock then moves the hands on the clock to a specific time. The clock shifts, revealing a doorway.

“Whoa,” You breathe, following Jason down the stairs into the huge cave.

You walk around the room slowly, taking everything in then you notice a figure sitting in front of the Bat computer.

“Tim!” You grin.

Tim spins around in his chair and smiles at you.

“Hey, Y/N, hey Jay. I didn’t know you guys were going to be here.”

“I’m picking up some intel from Bruce,” Jason tells him. “Roy made me bring Y/N to make sure I would be on my best behavior,” He rolls his eyes.

“And I wanted to see the Batcave,” You add.

“Bruce is in the back,” Tim jerks his head back toward a different area of the cave. “Come on, Y/N, I’ll show you around.”

You grin and eagerly follow Tim around, soaking in all the information. He shows you the various souvenirs Batman has collected from the Rogue gallery, the collection of Bat suits and past Robin suits, miscellaneous technology, and the vast array of weapons.

“This one is yours, right?” You ask, taking the bo staff off the wall.

“Yep,” Tim confirms, tucking his hands into his pockets. “You ever used one?”

“No,” You admit. “But sometimes I use my bow for hand to hand combat when I’m in a pinch. I’m not very good, but I’m getting better. Jason is helping me.”

“I could show you a few moves if you want,” Tim offers.

“Yeah!” You grin then Tim leads you onto the mats in the training area.

In comparison to Dick and Jason, Tim is fairly skinny. He doesn’t have the advantage of lots of muscle mass, so he has to compensate in different ways which is perfect for training you. While Roy and Jason are both good teachers, they are also both jacked while as of a year ago, you were starving on the streets, so you’ve been building your muscle back up, but you’re nowhere near their muscle mass (and probably never will be).

Tim shows you a few moves with his bo staff and even finds a bow for you to practice with so you can translate the moves over to your choice of weapon. He also shows you a few moves that allow you to flip someone over, even when they are heavier than you.

You push with your legs, driving your hips forward and pull down on Tim’s left arm, forcing him over your shoulder. Tim hits the ground with an “oof” but grins up at you.

“That was good,” He praises then you hear a familiar scoff behind you.

“That was child’s play,” Damian cross his arms.

Tim sighs, sitting up.

“Oh yeah?” You cross your arms. “Come on the mats, I’ll show you child’s play.”

Damian rolls his eyes.

“If I wanted an easy fight, I’d spar Drake.”

“Thanks,” Tim remarks sarcastically.

“Afraid you’re going to lose?” You taunt.

“Tt, I’ve fought against opponents twice your size blindfolded and won. I don’t fear losing.”

“Sounds like a lot of excuses to me.”

“I spend my training time improving, not fighting those beneath me.”

“Beneath you?” You question. “You’re three feet tall. There’s not many people beneath you.”

Tim snickers from the mats while Damian glares at you.

“I am not short!” He protests.

“Sure you aren’t, champ,” You smile condescendingly. “You’re just fun sized!”

Damian glowers at you then steps onto the mats.

“Fine. I’ll partake in your pathetic training exercise.”

You grin then Tim steps off the mats to let you two spar, watching from the side. You will admit that you may be a bit out of your depth by sparing Damian. It’s no secret that he is very well trained and an extremely talented fighter. You’re more a long-range type of fighter, but he’s too damn smug for you to not at least try to wipe that stupid smirk off his face. Somehow, you manage to shake out of Damian’s hold, flinging him off you.

Damian is a good fighter, but you know you’re putting up one hell of a fight right now. He lunges forward, and that’s when you see your opportunity. One minute, Damian is upright, in fighter’s guard, ready to strike, the next minute, he’s on his back staring at the ceiling, all the air knocked out of his lunges.

“Nice job, Y/N!” Tim grins while you cheer, running over to high five him.

“It worked!” You grin. “That was so cool.”

Damian slowly sits up, looking a little dazed then Jason walks over and announces that it’s time to go.

“Bye Tim!” You grin then smirk at Damian. “See you later, Bat Brat!”

Damian doesn’t even have a witty remark to shoot back at the insulting nickname you yelled to him. Once you and Jason leave the cave, Tim looks over at Damian with a knowing grin.

“You look a little starry-eyed there, Dames,” Tim shoots him a shit-eating grin. “Someone has a crush.”

“Shut up, Drake,” Damian growls. “I do not have a crush.”

“Oh please, everyone in this family practically falls in love when they meet someone who can knock them on their ass. I know that look. You like Y/N.”

“No, I do not,” Damian snaps, getting to his feet. “She is insufferable and you’re even bigger idiot than I thought if you think I would ever be attracted to someone like her,” He storms out of the cave while Tim grins.

. . .

Initially, you didn’t want to join the Teen Titans. You think something similar to the Outlaws is more appealing than the Teen Titans, but Roy and Kori convince you to give it a chance. The Titans had an especially big mission that they needed some extra manpower on so you agreed to help.

Low and behold, no one other than Damian Wayne is leading the team. You stroll into the tower with an overnight bag slung over your shoulder, Damian not noticing you until you say:

“Wow, Robin. I remember when I was taller than you. Then again, everyone was taller than you.”

Puberty was kind to Damian, finally blessing him with his father’s height. While Damian doesn’t have near the muscle mass of Bruce (what seventeen year old does?), you predict that Damian will eventually be taller than Bruce.

Damian sighs, slowly turning to face you with an unimpressed look.

“I see your humor hasn’t improved with age.”

“I see you still have a stick up your ass.”

It’s been a few years since you’ve seen Damian. Both of you have grown more into yourselves and improved skills, but some things never change.

“Why are you here?” Damian demands.

“Didn’t you hear? I’m your extra manpower on this mission,” You grin viciously. “I’m Y/N,” You introduce to the few Teen Titans you don’t recognize.

“Great, the Justice League is dooming us to fail,” Damian rolls his eyes.

“They did that when they put you in charge,” You snap back.

“Yes, and I suppose you’ve had lots of experience leading your nonexistent team.”

“Cute,” You sneer, shifting the bag on your shoulder. “I’m going to go claim a bed,” You announce then wander further into the tower.

“So, Dames,” Gar asks. “Who’s your friend?”

“Not a friend,” Damian growls.

“You wish she were more than a friend,” Jon grins.

“No, I do not,” Damian snaps.

“I dunno,” Gar trails off. “It seemed flirty to me. What do you think, Jon?”

“Definitely flirty,” Jon agrees.

“Shut up,” Damian growls. “I was not flirting with Y/N. She is insufferable,” Then Damian storms off.

Gar and Jon exchange a look.

“He’s so into her,” Gar insists.

“Has been since we were twelve,” Jon confirms.

. . .

You’ll admit it. Damian is a good leader. He’s a smug dick, but he’s good at what he does. Of course, just like any other of Damian’s talents, you would never admit this to him. His ego is big enough without you inflating it anymore.

And while Damian is a good leader and a fantastic planner, sometimes, plans go astray, like this plan, right now.

“Shit,” Robin curses.

You frown from where you’re keeping watch while Robin hacks into the compound files.

“What is it?” You ask.

“They’ve got a highly advance software on here that will recover any deleted files from the hard drive,” Robin frowns.

It was a rescue and extraction mission from a highly advanced facility experimenting on kidnapped kids to make super humans. The rest of the team was evacuating the facility while you and Robin went to extract data and destroy files.

“So, we have to destroy the computer system,” You frown, looking at the vast system which spreads across the huge room then look in your quiver. “I only have two exploding arrows left and they aren’t strong enough to take out everything.”

Robin curses in Arabic.

“I don’t have enough explosives on me to destroy the whole system either. Perhaps Superboy could--” He’s cut off by the sound of footsteps running your direction.

You draw your bow again, ready to fire.

“Looks like we’ve been found.”

As the first security guard rounds the counter, you let the arrow fly, shooting him in the shoulder. Robin uses a flying roundhouse to knock out the guard while you fire an arrow at a guard attempting to sneak up on him. You fire another arrow then punch a nearby guard in the face. Before the guard can recover, you backhand him with your bow then knock him backward with a front kick.

“Black Falcon!” Robin calls, then flings a guard toward you.

You fire an arrow into the guard’s shoulder and knee, the man collapsing to the ground with a scream.

“We’ve gotta figure out how to destroy that computer without blowing up the building,” You grab Robin’s arm. “Come on, before they send more guards!”

Robin nods, running back to the computer room with you, emptying the small explosives he carries with him.

“These will take out some of the systems, but it won’t destroy the whole thing,” Robin frowns, digging through his utility belt.

“What if I fire my explosive arrows at them? Between both of the explosives, that would be enough, right?”

Robin pauses to think for a moment then begins arranging the explosives in a specific pattern.

“Can you fire both of your explosive arrows at the same time?”

“Pft, easily.”

Robin nods then finishes arranging the explosives.

“We need to get to a higher vantage point,” He pauses, looking around the room, then spots a vent. “There.”

“Uh… You’re a little big for a vent, don’t you think?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at Robin’s broad shoulders.

“Getting into small, high places is Nightwing’s specialty. I am more than capable.”

You shrug.

“Whatever you say.”

“I’ve set the explosives to be a chain reaction. Fire at that one,” Then Robin points to the explosives at the top of the chain and you two make your way into the vent.

While it’s a tight squeeze for Robin, he’s true to his word and maneuvers expertly into the vent. The only feasible way to hold your bow is sideways, but you’ve shot sideways plenty of times.

“You ready, Bat Brat?” You ask.

Robin nods curtly, clearly unimpressed with the old nickname. You grin at him then fire at the explosives.

. . .

The rest of the mission goes smoothly. All of the people experimented on are getting medical attention, any of the Titans that were injured are being patched up, and there were no casualties. You don’t mind the Titans. Heck, you might even join the team.

Currently, you’re sitting on the roof of the tower, your feet dangling over the edge. While the Titans are cool, you enjoy your tall perches. You blame Roy for introducing you to the thrilling world of heights.

Someone silently sits down next to you. You don’t even have to turn your head to know who it is.

“You’ve got a good team, Dames,” You tell him.

“They’re adequate,” He says simply.

“That’s pretty high praise coming from you,” You tease.

Damian rolls his eyes.

“You were also… adequate on the mission.”

“Aw sucks, Dames. You’re gonna make me blush.”

Damian rolls his eyes again.

“You weren’t too bad yourself,” You tell him, bumping his shoulder. “You’re a good leader. This team is lucky to have you.”

You see Damian look down out of the corner of your eye. You turn to see him hiding a blush.

“Aw, Damian, are you blushing?” You tease, poking his cheek.

“Shut up!” Damian snaps, his face growing darker. He bats your hand away. “I’m not blushing!”

“Sure you’re not,” You grin, leaning back on your hands and admiring the city.

You two sit in silence for a few minutes, watching the sunset over the city. Maybe Roy and Kori are right. Maybe it’s time for you to join a team of your own…

“I…” Damian starts slowly. “I enjoyed having you in the field today.”

You look over at Damian with a shit-eating grin.

“Careful, Dames. With words like that, you might make me think you actually like me.”

Damian blushes again, looking irritated.

“Your personality is insufferable, but you have good skills.”

“Uh-huh,” You nod, not buying anything he is saying. “Is that why you’re sitting on the roof with me and not your teammates?”

Damian doesn’t say anything which only deepens your grin.

“I enjoyed today too. We work well together,” You say. “I think I’ll have to tag along on another mission soon.”

“...I’d like that,” Damian admits.

You grin again, laying your head on Damian’s shoulder.

“You know, you may be a cocky son of a bitch, but you’re alright, Dames.”

“You’re still insufferable,” Damian tells you but leans his head on yours anyways.

“I don’t know who you think you’re fooling with that line.”

“I don’t need to fool anyone, it’s the truth!”

“Uh-huh, Dames. Sure it is.”

Me? Write a Damian fic where I’m happy with his dialog and characterization? It’s more likely than I thought.

Part 2

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sasuhinasno1fan · 3 years

Text

A promise to keep you safe- Lukadrien June Day 1

It’s here! My second @lukadrien-june. I haven’t started s4 but just going off what I’ve heard others talk about, I don’t think I will. Instead I’ll just focus on my love for lukadrien which by this time last year had been a small growing love but is now my top ship of the whole show. Sorry Adrienette, just not really doing it for me anymore, but I still love you. Anyway, back to this month long event. This story was inspired by the k-drama, The Last Empress, which is basically about a normal girl who marries into the royal family. However, she finds out it was all a lie and that the royal family is corrupt and messed up and decides she’s going to bring them down. The head of security is an inside man also hoping to bring them down and the two get closer. We were robbed of them getting together in the show, but you can’t deny that’s where they were going, no matter how that show ended. I hope this doesn’t count as salt towards Gabriel, cause I can see him doing this and Audrey, well I needed a bad guy. Anyway, enjoy. Promise

Luka watched his sister pretty up the gift bag, trying not to think of the reason he had it in the first place. The royal family of France was, well, corrupt. It hadn’t always been like that, or maybe it had been but no one ever noticed because there were actual people who cared who spoke louder. To Luka, it was just the people he had to live ruling over his life. Then things changed.

He’d been on the Liberty about to sit down for a movie with his sister when they got a call no one ever wanted. Their mom, who’d been going to visit a friend had been hit in a hit and run and died. Having to go identify the body was one of the worst things in Luka’s life. The funeral, the Viking send-off she wanted (a safe version), the fear that they’d lose the Liberty and each other had it not been for an anonymous donation for the boat to stay with them and to help with Luka’s emancipation and getting custody of his sister.

During all this, he’d gotten a letter with an SD card. The card had a video, a traffic cam. It showed his mother walking back home when a black SUV suddenly came and ran into her. He watched the driver get out and look annoyed as he nudged Anarka with his foot. That driver was the King. The letter stated that the King’s engagement was used as an alibi to keep him clean and his car had seemingly vanished. If he wanted to help take the corrupt monarchy down, he needed to work at the castle. The only open position was part of the royal Imperial Guard. He’d promised his mom back when he was in lycée, he’d stay out of fights, but he hoped she’d forgive this just once. With a friend’s help, he created a fake identity, knowing the name Couffaine would raise flags with the King, passed the written exam and had been the only person still standing in the physical. He told Juleka to say he’d gone traveling to deal with their mother’s death and stay with her girlfriend if she thought it safe. He’d entered the palace, not knowing how things would go or even who to look for when it came to joining to bring the monarchy down.

Imagine his surprise when it turned out the Crown Prince was the one who sent him the letter.

“Why are you doing this?” Luka had growled, holding Prince Adrien by his collar in the unused wing of the castle he’d been asked to come to.

“Because it doesn’t matter who my father is, he deserves to be punished. I wish I could say he hasn’t always been like this but I know he has. Isn’t it strange that the Crown Prince almost never leaves the castle and neither did my mother after marrying my father? My father has always been like this. My mother tried to bring him down and she’s dead. I’m not going to stop until I finish what she started.”

So he agreed to help, but he was cautious. For all he knew, the Prince would turn against him. He had quite the team already. Marinette, his personal assistant, whose grandfather had his heirlooms stolen by the King after refusing to sell them. Alya and Nino, Adrien’s PR team. Alya’s younger twin sisters and Nino’s younger brother all had rare blood types and needed a surgery for a simple procedure. Said blood type was also shared with the King and after an accident he had, the blood had been ripped from the kids. The children had gotten sicker and now stayed at the hospital waiting for another shipment. Chloe, who was the daughter of the King’s newest wife, had been insulted beyond believe by the King and treated like dirt. And now him, a person’s who mother was taken too early and the King wouldn’t take reasonability.

It became clear very quickly that the Prince, that Adrien meant what he said. He was good at pretending to be the prefect prince and obedient son, but he’d been collecting seeds and releasing them too slowly. First with the announcement of Duke Felix, nephew to the King was actually his illegitimate son. Then starting to release the questions of what happened to the Queen, starting with leaving clues to her real body.

He could see that doing all this was taking a toll on Adrien. The public was getting distressed and people wanted to point fingers. Luka wanted to help but instead Adrien wanted to focus on getting more information about Anarka’s death. The cover up, the moving of her body to be found else were, finding the missing car, finding out Nathalie’s whole involvement in all this. It started to boil up emotionally for Luka and after nearly taking care of the King himself, he left the castle and sat in front of his mother’s grave for hours before Adrien found him there.

“It’d be so easy to kill him, to make him pay.” Luka said, still holding onto his anger.

“It would be, but I don’t think your mother would want that.”

Luka remembered the anger just releasing at the thought of what his mother would tell him if he’d been closer to killing the King. “My mom was this wild chaos driven person. She came from a proper family and hated it. So when she got older, she went her own way. She raised us with such trust that we knew hiding things from her wouldn’t help us and we never wanted to disappoint her. I used to get into so much trouble with fighting. I guess my empathic ways really had a hard time dealing with everything and I would lash out. She was the one who encouraged me to use my music to speak, not my fists. I was never this weird person or uncontrollable child. I was her kid and she loved me and she didn’t deserve this.” He stared at her headstone. “She hated the cold.”

He hadn’t been expecting Adrien to take his scarf off, exposing his neck to the cold fall weather and wrap it around the headstone as best he could.

“I don’t know if this is enough, but I hope it helps. I’ll keep him from going too far, I promise. We’ll avenge you so you can rest easy knowing your kids are safe.” Adrien promised out loud.

If Luka hadn’t known it then, he knew it now. Prince Adrien Agreste was a kind person, nothing like his father and if the monarchy was ever to continue, would be France’s greatest ruler. He took so much on his shoulders and never said a word about it. So Luka promised himself he’d do whatever it took to lighten the load. Which lead him to now. It was a small thing, but he got his sister to pretty up the bag with a new scarf in it for Adrien.

“All done.” Juleka said, pushing the bag to her brother. “You know, I saw the scarf on Mom’s headstone. Rose said the scarf is actually pretty expensive.”

“I don’t think he cares about that.”

“No, I guess not.” Luka knew his sister worried about what he was doing but with the soft look on her face, he had a feeling she knew he was safe. “I think Mom would have liked him. She would have totally adopted him.”

Luka smiled to himself at the thought of his mom attacking the King just to protect Adrien. “Yeah, she would. I better go. Be safe, ok? Let me know what Rose’s parents say about you going with her to Achu.”

“I will as long as you stay safe too.”

“I promise.”

_____________

Adrien stretched out his neck. Being ordered by his step-mother to organize the annual bazar was weird. Usually the Queen would take care of organizing it but somehow Audrey ended up convince his father that Adrien and Felix should do it as Crown Princes. Felix wanted nothing to do with it and even though Felix was on his side, Adrien wasn’t about to force his brother into it since he had to announce to everyone who Felix really was in order to forward their plans. He had no clue how his mom had done this every year. Even with a bases of what to go off, it was a lot of work. Not to mention Audrey was monopolizing all the Queen’s staff that could help him with this. He was worried what she had in store for him and if his father would care for a few moments like he usually did.

A knock on the door interrupted his break. Hoping it was Marinette with more info he needed, he called for the person to come in. He was surprised when he saw it was Luka.

“What are you doing here? I thought you had the day off?”

“I do. I had to go get something.” Adrien then noticed Luka was hiding something behind his back. He raised an eyebrow at the bodyguard, who only smiled before pulling a gift bag from behind his back and placing it on the table.

“What’s this?”

“Open it.”

Adrien was usually cautious when people gave him gifts as a fault, but he knew he could trust the people in his group. So he opened the bag and pulled out the deep blue scarf. The colour reminded him of the colour Luka used to have in his hair.

“You kept my mom warm and I know she’d ring my ear if I left you to get cold.” Luka explained.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to.” Luka plucked the scarf from Adrien and slowly wrapped it around his neck as to not startle him. “It looks good on you.”

Adrien pressed his face into the scarf, hiding his blush. He wondered if it said something that he didn’t flinch as much with Luka putting the scarf around his neck as he sometimes did with Nino throwing an arm around his neck. Maybe because they had the chance to interact more or maybe, when around Luka, Adrien just felt things he thought he wouldn’t feel.

Luka just had a way of getting past a person’s walls.

___________

Luka tried not to feel rage. The royal family just didn’t give up. Audrey had practically ordered Adrien to take care of the annual bazar and then dragged Chloe and Felix – The Forgotten Royals as she played them up to be – to a photoshoot with the King that ran over into the bazar, leaving Adrien the only member of the royal family to attend the bazar. Audrey came down with a sudden illness.

The auction had been going on, still no sign of Chloe, Felix or the King when they reached the final item. An antique clock from the King’s collection. Luka watched Adrien talk about the clock, his hand on it when he yanked it away with a sudden ‘ouch’. He watched as he joked to the crowd about how metals retain heat and to not place the clock in direct sunlight. Luka remembered trying to understand how an antique clock, that had been out of the sun, could be hot. Unless there was something inside radiating heat. It what felt like snapshots, he’d warned Adrien, thrown the clock away and pulled Adrien to the floor as the bomb inside exploded. To see Adrien unconscious, blood dripping from the shallow cut on his neck, though at that moment, it looked much worse, it scared him. He barely even recognised the King as he picked Adrien up to get him to the medical wing. He wasn’t sure how long the concern the king held would last. Adrien didn’t stay in the medical wing long once he woke up. He demanded to stay in his room while he recovered and once the doctor set up his IV bag next to his bed and gave him a dose of pain killers, Luka was told to stay with the Prince and watch over him.

Luka knew as head of the guard for Adrien, he had paperwork to fill out for the incident, but he couldn’t move. He realised he was starting to feel stifled in his suit and stood up, hoping to duck out to change but stopped when something grabbed his hand.

Adrien looked up at him with lidded eyes, eyes that screamed fear laced with pain. “Don’t go, please?”

Dropping back down onto his chair, Luka held Adrien’s hand, using his other to wipe the tears that escaped the green eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Those same green eyes locked on the one scratched Luka had gotten. He felt like such a failure for not keeping Adrien safe, for letting him get hurt worse than he did.

“You’re hurt.”

“It’s just a scratch. Just focus on getting better, ok?”

‘Get better so I don’t go crazy and kill either your father or Audrey. I haven’t decided yet.’

Adrien gently squeezed Luka’s hand. “Promise me you won’t leave?”

Luka pulled his hand away enough to link pinkies with the Prince. It didn’t matter that they were adults, this was how he swore things.

“I promise, I won’t leave you.” he pressed a kiss onto the interlocked pinkies and watched the tension leave Adrien.

Adrien made promises to him and his family and this was one Luka would keep forever.

#lukadrien june 2021 #the last empress au #france has a monarchy #adrien is a prince #luka is his bodygaurd #the monarchy is corrupt

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bbykpoper · 3 years

Photo

𝕭𝖚𝖗𝖓𝖙 𝕮𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘🕯️

Inspired by this post 🍂

Pairing: witch!changbin x witch!reader

Song recomendation: Cold Cold Cold by Cage The Elephant

Index: Jisung // Chan // Minho // Hyunjin // Jeongin // Felix // Seungmin

WARNING (18+): this chapter contains explicit sexual content up ahead, read at your own discretion!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭ 。.・

A soft flicker hung above Changbin as he walked back towards his home, both hands holding bags he and Chan had picked up from the grocery store. His friend walked beside him talking on end about some new music he just magically figured out (Changbin would never tell him that it wasn’t a coincidence he found this new inspiration), while the only thing he could focus on were the flickering street lights. Something wasn’t right about them, and it made the hairs on his neck stand straight.

“Are you okay?” Chan asked as he too now noticed the lights. “What’s up with the lights? They’re weird.”

“I don’t know.” Changbin said, looking around and noticing how the lights seemed to flicker worse than his altar candles. “But I don’t like it.”

“Interesting.” A voice echoed out. “You seem to bare no hate towards this human.” Chan shivered when he felt a slight touch on his neck. “Now why is that witchling?”

Changbin had to hold his breath in at the sight before him. Violet eyes, deep like that of an amethyst stone, observed Chan from a close proximity as long lucious locks of dark hair fell in waves down the slender body of black. That piercing gaze turned its attention to him then and Changbin couldn’t fully come to terms with the situations.

“You’re the one that’s flickering the street lights.” He announced.

“Intuitive.” The giggle seemed to be childish even though the woman standing in front of him was anything but a child. “I like that witchling. You show promise.”

“Stop calling me a witchling.” He seethed out.

“To me you are a witchling. You still haven’t crossed your hundreth year of practice.” The woman laughed. “I am still intrigued that you play with humans. Our kind tends to detest them.”

“Changbin...” Chan whispered in uncomfort as the woman didn’t back off.

“Do you mind backing off.” Changbin said harshly, earning a raised eyebrow from the woman.

“You have no maners do you witchling.” She sighed and took a step back. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to hurt your human.” Her eyes narrowed in mirth as she looked at him. “I don’t like to meddle in others practices.”

“Who the hell even are you?” He was loosing patience with this conversation. For fucks sake he didn’t even know this woman and she was all up in his business and plain out rude to his friend.

“Y/N.” She simply stated and went around him, going down the street in the opposite direction than them. “I’ll see you around witchling.”

“I AM NOT A WITCHLING!” He yelled out but it seemed to be yelled out into the wind, as no one was behind them.

“What the fuck?” Chan whispered out and looked at his friend.

“What the fuck indeed.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭ 。.・

“So what you’re saying is a weird woman showed up as if she knew Binnie?” Felix asked as he kept stuffing his face with food. “I mean how is that unusual? Have you met yourself Changbin?”

“She’s a witch. Like me.” He sighed. “The only other witches I know in this town are from the coven I’m part of.”

“Well have you asked JB who she is?” Minho spoke softly.

“Not yet. I was going to after tomorrow’s lectures.” He sighed. “It buggs me. I’ve never met someone who can flicker lights with their will. Electricity can’t be controlled. Even Jaebeom has a hard time with it.”

“There’s no point in pondering about this right now.” Felix sighed, taking a mouthfull of food once more. “We should worry about Chan’s stress cooking. I can’t keep eating more.”

The boys laughed and went in to the kitchen to calm the cooking frenzy down. Changbin on the other hand went up to his room and sat facing the window and the outside world. The darkness of the early autumn washed over the streets as the trees swayed in the night. It bugged him to no end. The whole situation from his little grocery run.

Who was this y/n? Why was she here? And how the hell did she know who he was? I mean technically she didn’t know him, but she knew he was a newbie. Far less experienced than most of his coven. The thoughts kept swimminin in his mind without end.

Im Jaebeom was a senior at the college Changbin attended and also the leader of the little coven on campus which held together so that the witches wouldn’t feel out of place among the humans. He waited for Changbin outside of his lecture hall, his phone in hand and eyes cast down on it.

“Please tell me I’m allowed to hex Professor Kim.” Changbin whined.

“As much as I want to, I can’t allow it.” Jaebeom laughed. “How you been Changbin?”

“Good. Until this random ass witch shows up and scares Chan half dead, flickers the street lights as if they were nothing and calls me a witchling.” He rambled on as they walked towards the coffee house next to campus. “I’m rambling aren’t I?”

“A little bit, but I do understand why.” They took a seat and ordered their drinks. “Did this witch tell you her name?”

“Y/N. She had these striking violet eyes and dark hair. She was also wearing a black lace dress.” He sighed. “I really don’t know who she is. But she pissed me off.”

“She has that effect on people.” Jaebeom laughed. “Y/N is an ancient witch. You could call her a crone, even though she is still young to enter that fraction. The last time she showed up here she was burned at the stake and vowed to curse the people who burned her.” He looked up at the boy across the table. “She didn’t mean anything bad by her words, she just doesn’t exactly know how to socialize these days.”

“How do you know all this?” Changbin furrowed his eyebrows.

“She’s my ancestor. On my mother’s side.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I basically lost sight of her last night and she wandered away. Sorry about that.”

“It’s... fine...” He said blinking rapidly. “Your ancestor? How old is she?”

“I stopped counting when I hit 300.” A voice sounded beside them and Changbin was met with those piercing violet eyes. “I think your mom still follows that.”

“Is that burnt fudge?” Jaebeom asked.

“Yeah, I like these. They remind of the time I was burned at the stake.”

“So you can make jokes now?” He raised an eyebrow.

“No.” She chewed on the candy. “It’s called sarcasm little crow.” Her gaze then went back to Changbin who was dumbstruck at her appearance and demanour. “How is your human doing?”

“He’s shaken up.” He answered, narrowing his gaze at her. “You scared him quite well.”

“Too bad, he looked quite cute to be honest.” She shrugged her shoulders with that comment, something stirring badly in Changbin’s gut. “Anyways, I was told to invite you and your human-”

“Friend.” Jaebeom stepped in and got a glare out of you.

“-friend.” She gritted out. “To dinner as an apology for last night. It was not my intention to scare you. I just couldn’t comprehend the fact that a witch was friends with a human.”

“JB is friends with humans.” Changbin’s eye twitched.

“That doesn’t mean I approve.” She said. “Dinner will be at 7 p.m.” And with that she left, her dress swaying in the wind.

“Sorry. As I said, her social skills are practically nonexistent...”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭ 。.・

“This is very tasty! I’ve never had roast beef like this!” Chan exclaimed excited as he sat at the table of Jaebeom’s home. “You’re an excellent cook y/n.”

“Thank you.” You answered as you quietly ate next to your little cousin, not really liking the fact that he was here.

“Ah, before I forget.” He mumbled and pulled out a container filled with candy. “These are for you. Changbin said you liked burnt fudge so I did burn them a little bit but not too much.” He placed them on the table before your wide eyes. “I hope you like them.”

“I appreciate it.” You softly said and took the sweets, watching the container silently.

The rest of the night went by nicely and you managed to have a civil conversation with Chan, but Changbin still didn’t like you. Generally just because you kept on calling him a witchling. You just didn’t wish to stop because his reactions amused you.

“It was nice talking with you y/n.” Chan smiled as he and Changbin were leaving. “Bye.” He waved and you slightly waved back.

“Why didn’t you tell the witchling I’m here to make his friend’s life miserable?” You looked over to the tall boy next to you.

“Chan is not a bad guy. Just because his great something grandfather burned you at the stake doesn’t mean you need to make innocents suffer.” He spoke.

“But they could make my sister and myself burn?” You asked. “I made a vow Jaebeomie, to raise hell in this town until it disappeared. I made a vow to curse the men that accused and burned us.”

“But you didn’t.” He smiled at you, poking your cheek. “You didn’t wreak havoc on this town and you didn’t curse Chan’s father. Because you know very well, that 150 years of making people die has worn you out.” He kept poking her cheek. “Just admit it, you got tired of hating humans and want to go seclude yourself in the forest like the rest of the crones.”

“You have a big mouth on you for our 300 year age difference little crow.” You gritted out, offended that he saw right through you.

“It’s actually 376, but who’s counting.” He chuckled and went back inside.

Your eyes followed the two receding silhouettes in the distance, noticing how every now and then Changbin looked back to make sure you weren’t following them. You giggled to yourself and decided to go back inside, sending a crow with a little gift towards him.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭ 。.・

Chan smiled and waved at you when he found you sitting at a table, drinking tea with Jaebeom. He came over to you two with Changbin in tow who rolled his eyes at you. The shift in your eyebrow was noticed by them all, but nothing was said.

“How are you guys?” Chan took a seat at your table, pulling his younger friend down with him.

“Enjoying some tea and going over some things.” Jaebeom smiled and then he remembered something. “Right, Changbin you can ask y/n to help you with that spell you were struggling with. Meanwhile Chan, wanna go get more drinks? I need a refill.”

Both boys stood up and went towards the counter, while you were left with a mean looking Changbin. You sipped on your tea, eyebrows raised, eyes fixed on the boy, waiting for him to speak.

“You won’t ask me for help will you?” You taunted him.

“No.” He said, crossing his arms.

“At least you’ve taken a liking to Shu.” You giggled as you noticed the small crow you sent after him the other day.

Changbin looked over to where your violet gaze was focused and turned back at you with shock when he figured out the crow was sent by you.

“You sent Shu?” He asked.

“Jaebeom told me you don’t have a familiar yet, so I offered up one.” You shrugged your shoulders. “He is a young one, just like you. You will learn a lot from each other.”

Changbin was shocked by this turn of events. He was extremely humbled by this gesture and his eyes and facial features softened, a sudden guilt taking over. You kept on silently drinking your tea, gazing at the baby crow in the trees.

“I can’t manifest enough energy to get this spell working.” He whispered out.

“What’s the spell about?”

“Self-love.” He averted his gaze.

“Do you have some say, props you use?” You kindly didn’t stop to tease him about the reason for the spell, not really seeing any reason to tease. “Also, where are you doing your spell?”

“Um, I have some stuff but it’s in my room. Basically in my room.” He said.

“You mind if I have a look?”

“So, do you think they’re hitting it off?” Chan asked, watching along with JB as they waited for their order.

“We’re not trying to set them up Chan.” He reminded him. “But yeah, I think they are.”

“I’m gonna have a 300 year old witch as his girlfriend, aren’t I?” Chan chuckled when he noticed how Changbin got more than comfortable with you.

“Probably.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭ 。.・

Felix and Minho had to hold back their awe when you walked into the shared home of the eight boys. They greeted you with a soft ‘hello’ and blinked at your presence. Changbin had to hold back his laughter at them but he understood where they came from. I mean even he took a few seconds to ogle at your short, yet elegant lacy black dress. Your hair was braided expertly and you stood awkwardly in the living room until Changbin hadn’t walked you over to his room.

Well his and Chan’s shared room.

You noticed how two beds were placed in the opposite sides of the room, the left side decorated with some band posters, herbs, jars and a tiny altar in the corner. The right side decorated with some recors, a laptop and a lot of tech you didn’t really understand.

“Ishtar?“ You raised your eyebrows. “No wonder you cant manifest enough energy for your spell.”

“What do you mean?” Changbin asked confused.

“Ishtar is a sex goddess. Which means the strongest energy you can manifest is through sex magic.” You plopped down on his bed, and he took a seat on one of the chairs near his bed.

“Sex magic?”

“As you masturbate, focus your intention in your mind’s eye.” You began with a simple explanation. “The key is to focus on your breath and connect that breath to your intention as you masturbate. Then, as you orgasm, imagine your intention as a beam of light shooting out the crown of your head and jetting into the cosmos. As you stay in the afterglow, continue connecting to this intention, sending it out into the universe by feeling it throughout your whole body. When you’re done, you're supposed to go ahead and thank yourself and the universe, and at that point, the ceremony is done and your intention has been set.”

“So sex magic works only alone?” He asked, glancing at you with a small pout which didn’t go unnoticed by you. “It can’t be practiced with a partner?”

“Well no, but that’s not typically how it’s practiced, since having someone else present can distract you. Instead of focusing on your intention and connecting to yourself or your personal deitie), you’ll likely find yourself connecting to your partner. This is great for building a relationship essentially but not really for spells. When you practice sex magic with a partner you are merging energy bodies, you are involving their will, and there’s a lot of potential to get messy.”

“But what if I want to involve a partner?” He now asked his eyes becoming bolder.

“If you really want to you’re allowed to.” You laughed. “Your own witchcraft is an open practice. No two withes will do a spell exactly the same.”

“But I’m part of a coven...”

“So? Jaebeom is not a scary leader.” You laughed. “Technically I am part of that coven too, but you guys never even met me. I do my own thing, and you are allowed to do your own thing as well.” You smiled and looked over at the altar where Ishtar’s candle grew it’s flame, satisfied with your little speech. “I think she agrees too.”

Changbin looked over at the altar and softly asked his question. “Is it okay if I do it with a partner?” The candle did a little dance meaning it was happy that Changbin wanted to work with another partner. “Is it okay if it’s y/n?” The flame suddenly became smaller and a few seconds passed before it grew almost catching the hanging herbs on fire.

You both looked at each other and you blinked back your confusion. When did this happen? You clearly noticed how he didn’t have hate or spite in his eyes but something much deeper ran behind them. Lust. Changbin was horny and he was horny for you.

Throwing caution to the wind, Changbin made a split-second decision to lock his room’s door, which you clearly heard as he stepped forward from his chair, both of his hands landing beside your uncovered thighs. You two were so close that you could make out the details of his face, his pupils dialating and his breath becoming uneven. He smashes his own lips against yours, his actions filled with need and passion. Changbin slightly bites on your bottom lip, looking into your eyes evoking a fire in your violet ones as you took in a deep breath of his scent.

“Are you sure about this?” You asked him as he literally sat on his knees before you.

“Yeah.” His swollen lips breathed out. “To be honest, I wanted to fuck you the first time I saw you.” He brought his face closer to you. “And it just grew with how much more annoying you became.”

“Good to know.” You smirked. “But I meant are you sure about me being the partner for your ritual?”

“Yes, please.” He grabbed onto your thighs quite harshly. “Just let me enjoy you already...” The whine he let out made you giggle and you kissed him on the mouth. “Fuck...”

He pushes you down on the bed and climbs on over you, his hands slowly going over any type of free flesh you have on display for him. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck as you writhe against him, hands clinging tightly to his white t-shirt. You whimper when his teeth nip at the tender spot right under your ear, and you can’t help the way your hips go up when Changbin’s tongue brushes against the reddened skin of your neck. You swiftly moved your body so he was now under you, his belt seeming to undo itself.

“That’s hot.” He breathed out as you took off his pants and boxers. “God, that’s really hot.”

You smirk, licking a stripe. He moans, grabbing onto the sheets, desperately trying to grab something as his eyes rolled back in pleasure. You begin to take him in, swirling your tongue around him. He grunts as you hollow your cheeks. The tip of his dick touches the back of your throat, making you gag. He moans this time as he grabs your hair. You hollow out your cheeks, slowly moving back and forth. You feel his member twitch in your mouth, and you knew he was close to finishing. You took this as a chance to move faster, bobbing your head as fast as you could. He groans, panting your name as he used your hair to guide how to move.

Changbin lets out a choked sound when your nose brushes against the skin of his abdomen, and he has to fight the urge to throw his head back in pleasure. He doesn’t want to look away, not even for a moment. Not when you’re looking up at him like that, like your going to eat him whole. It turned him on even more.

He quickly pulled you off him taking a few deep beaths to calm down his uncoming finish, not wanting to cum yet. You smirked at him knowing he was having a hard time calming himself down and he noticed how your eyes twinkled with mischief.

“You better get ready to have that smirk wipped off your face.” He growled out, that sheer sentence making your panties seep with arousal. “Open your mouth for me, beautiful." His gruff voice said, placing his hand on your chin and thumbing your lips apart. "Suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me." You did as he said as he slipped two finger into your mouth. "That should be good enough." He said while pulling the fingers out, saliva dripping from them. A second later, your skirt had been pulled up to your hips. A greedy smile graced his lips as he rubbed the fingers on your panties, the thin material hardly covering anything.

He slipped two of his fingers into your folds, starting to pump gently but speeding up with every thrust. You couldn't suppress moans, pressing your mouth onto his exposed collarbone and leaving a trail of love bites. He soon added another finger to the two he was already using.

"Mmm..." You swore as you could feel your climax already drawing near. He tutted, feeling your walls tighten around his fingers. Immediately, he pulled them out and brought them to his own mouth, staring at you straight with those dark eyes. You watched aroused by the way he swirled them in his mouth.

“Dirty little witch.” He teased, grabbing your hips and pulling you on top off him, swiftly disregarding your underwear. “I’m going to give you the ride of your life.”

“You’ll have to make it good, I do have a few hundred years on you.” You kissed him as he brought you down on his ever so eager member.

He kept on pounding into you, gripping your ass for dear lfie, causing you to moan which resulted in growls of pleasure leaking from him too. You were experiencing a type of pleasure you couldn’t exactly comprehend and you bit into his shoulder, trying to keep yourself quiet and controlled. Changbin let his head fall into your bouncing tits, teeth bared against the flesh as he brought his hands to your waist, pulling you up and down on top of his cock. The boy stood, picking you up with him. He had set you down on his bed, admiring your fucked out expression. He pushed your hands above your head, holding your wrists down with one hand as the other one held your waist as he pounded into you.

Changbin went over the edge, biting your thigh to keep his noise contained. As you felt him pulsate within you, you felt your body grow light, thighs shaking and back arching. You came just as he buried himself fully into you, an overloaded experience that lasted for minutes.

Changbin collapsed on top of you, your breaths mingling as you both came off your high. You looked over to the candle on his altar, little cinders burning in their reflection, signaling that Ishtar was satisfied and so was Changbin. You stroked his hair as you felt him shift, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“I wouldn’t mind having this every day.” He said, placing more kisses along your neck.

“Then you better be prepared. I am aiming to become one of the crones.” You giggled letting him slowly pull out of you and bring a blanket over you both.

“Good. I can’t wait.” He said as a small knock came from the window, Shu motioning to the full moon. “Oh yeah, by the way.” Changbin turned towards you. “Were you the one that had that heated argument with the moon the other day?”

“No.” You blushed furiously in that moment that even your ears burned from embarrassment. He saw you arguing with a fucking glowing ball in the sky?!

“Funny.” He said. “It’s like I saw you, but oh well.”

“Shut up.” You playfully pushed his shoulder and he chuckled at your reaction.

You guys kept making out into the night, Ishtar’s candle ever so bright and happy in the background.

Chan stood in front of his room’s door, a sudden redness on his cheeks as he turned to face Felix who was passing by to go to his room. Both looked at each other and Chan just swallowed a lump in his throat.

“Can I crash in your room tonight?” He asked with an overly high pitched voice.

“Sure.” Felix nodded, understanding the hint of uncomfortableness in his tone. “At least she’s not trying to kill you anymore.”

“Yeah.” Chan said. “But they’re still fucking in there.”

Felix laughed as he and Chan went away from the door, soft muffled moans coming from the room. The older boy felt he’ll need to bleach his room after this night, maybe even sage it to keep it pure.

That’s what he gets for sharing a room with a witch.

#stray kids #stray kids imagine #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #seo changbin #kpop #stray kids smut

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goodgirlsfanficawards · 3 years

Text

It’s Friday! Kick off your weekend with a reread of these five fics from September!

found my thrill by s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe

12 Sep 2020, M, 2.1K, 1/1

The tip toward Mrs. Boland fell delightfully easy into his lap. And yes, he thinks, absently clacking the hard candy against back teeth, the source of this information isn’t what he’d term the most wholesome. Leslie is, to put it mildly, something of a turd. Apparently one with aspirations of playing cops and robbers, quite possibly unstable. But that’s essentially by the by. Jimmy’s allied with worse for less.

His sweet is practically vacant of flavour now. It’s spent too long being sucked upon, dwindling slow. There’s a packet in the cabinet by his head; easy replenishment is on offer. But it’s the action he enjoys, more than the florid taste. There’s no sense to using up supplies ahead of the need.

She’d been squirrelly, this Mrs. Boland, both times he spoke to her. In the presence of her husband, and without his shade. Maybe she’s not aware Jimmy noticed it, might be unused to having her responses attended to; her man doesn’t exactly impress as the observant type. But Stepford sketchiness wouldn’t necessarily translate to anything relevant right now. He’s focused on breaking this case, not poking at lesser fry. Oh, Jimmy’s seen the seedy underbelly to white picket land, is past naïve over that. Has run into a whole host out there: prescription pills; pimpless, primarily, prostitution; pornography production ranging from the shockingly amateur to the really quite advanced.

Suburban problems have a way of sealing themselves inward though. Rarely spill out their box into messy violence and mass ugliness in a manner which requires large amounts of attention. If it’s something of that type, he may not, for now, have a quarrel with her. Well, unless she brings him one.

The Game by BookBearer

08 Sep 2020, M, 4K, 1/?

This most recent hit was one of the biggest they’ve seen in a while. Rio and his group owned – well, “collaborated with” – multiple grocery stores, businesses, and shops throughout the city of Detroit. Each section had its own purpose, but there were a couple of larger, no-named, grocery stores that were their biggest assets.

One of which was robbed yesterday night.

The first time an incident like this happened, Rio was not overly concerned. There were lowlife criminals scattered all across the city of Detroit- sometimes shit happens. Some people are new to the area, so maybe they didn’t get the memo—don’t fuck with Rio’s business.

Usually he would send out a couple of his boys to rough them up a bit. And if he was feeling generous, he would show them the error of their ways, take the full cut of what they took, and then let the go with all their fingers intact. Sometimes.

But this?

This was different.

With each passing day, Rio would continue to hear about how his shit was getting robbed. A barber shop here, a liquor store there, and now yesterday was the grocery store on 3rd. And it only seemed to be his shit getting hit… each store that was robbed had his cash involved somehow.

To say Rio was pissed would be the understatement of the century.

Let's All Get Drunk And Go To Heaven by Fei / @lanafannabanana, @Nice_diva

01 Sep 2020, E, 3.4K, 1/1

Only it’s not one drink for her. Not even two. The whole situation just feels surreal, and she feels so out of place, so restless. Rio is sitting across from her and she could feel his eyes on her even when she is not looking. Beth ends up having double bourbon. Twice. By the moment she finishes her second glass, she feels her mind blissfully fogging, and she knows she should probably slow down a little, but it’s too late now.

And maybe she’s feeling a little too tipsy right now, so what?

Beth is nursing her third drink, when she feels Rio’s knee bump into hers. She raises her eyebrows, turning to him.

“Yo,” he says lazily.

And that he is tonight – awfully lazy and very relaxed. She finds it suspicious and doesn’t even want to think about why he is so relaxed. Is it because it’s Mick’s birthday, so Rio is letting it go for a moment? Or maybe some deal went really fine? And, gosh, what kind of deal, exactly? Maybe he is just in a good mood? Is he ever?

He is always so much trouble even when he is not.

She doesn’t reply, just snorts and rolls her eyes, twirling a lock of her blond hair. He looks so cheeky and genuine right now, she can’t help but smile back.

don't give it a hand, offer it a soul by medievalraven / @medievalraven

08 Sep 2020, M, 14K, 2/3

“You know I did hear something interesting about the event tonight,” Gretchen says.

“What’s that?”

“Apparently Elizabeth Boland was there, caused quite a stir.”

Rio takes a drink, trying to remember seeing anyone out of place tonight or anyone people had been watching, whispering about. But he can’t place anyone outside the normal crowd.

As if sensing his confusion Gretchen exhales sharply before clarifying.

“Her grandfather was the former governor and she had been a regular at these things ever since she could walk. My mother used to love seeing what dresses she’d wear even as a little girl, it was quite the big deal amongst the newspapers apparently. Anyway a couple years ago there was talk that her husband was being tapped for an appointment to the State House of Representatives when he passed away suddenly. She basically disappeared after that.”

“Is that right?”

“So imagine everyone’s surprise when she showed up tonight as the caterer no less,” Gretchen chuckles.

And of fucking course that was her.

Off The Record by Sdktrs12 / @sdktrs12

18 Sep 2020, T, 31K, 5/?

“It’s a ride along, so you’ll be on the road for a few weeks. But compensation is...substantial.” He pauses and Beth lets out an exasperated sigh. “It’s an entertainment piece.” He continues hastily, sensing her impatience. “A series of gallery showings for a photography exhibit.”

She sucks in a sharp breath and she knows Mason catches it because he heaves out a sigh, already knowing he’s losing her. “Absolutely not.” She hisses, her mind immediately transported back seven years.

She can picture herself perfectly, sitting at the hotel bar as she’d tried to drink away her misery. And then he’d been there, materializing by her side, eyes dark and dangerous as they’d scanned over her...

“You didn’t even let me finish.” Mason interrupts her thoughts and she distantly hears the toilet flush down the hall. Then the water is running in the sink and she pushes herself off the island.

She heads toward the door, stopping by the stairs to grab Jane’s overnight bag.

“I don’t need to hear the rest. Honestly, what did you expect? I mean, not only do I refuse to work with him, he refuses to work with me.” Beth scoffs at that—like he had any right or reason to blacklist her.

Not like the reasons she had.

“That’s the thing. His publicist called us and asked for you specifically. Said he doesn’t want the article done under any other publication or written by any other freelancer.”

And just—what? That didn’t make any sense. They hated each other.

If you know of anyone’s tumblr/twitter and we haven’t found it or tagged incorrectly, please send us an ask to let us know.

#good girls nbc #nbc good girls #good girls fanfiction #brio fanfiction #good girls fanfic #fic back friday

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leafs-lover · 3 years

Text

Because Two People Got Drunk: 21

Series Masterlist

Chapter 21

A/N: Italics are your thoughts

Summary: You and Fred begin your trip in Denmark by spending time with both of your families. You are nervous to see his dad and your grandparents, given that last time you didn’t have good conversations with either.

Warnings: Drinking, swearing, smut, Freddie being a dad

Word Count: 7600

July 7, 2023

“I remember our last flight to Denmark being much more fun” Fred whispers in your ear as you lie in bed. You arrived a few hours ago for a visit and are staying in a hotel. You kept your first day pretty relaxed as you all tried to adjust to the jetlag.

“Well I don’t think our in-flight entertainment from 2 years ago would be suitable with him around” you say looking to Oliver who is sleeping.

“That’s fair” Fred laughs. “He wasn’t that difficult to fly with last year”

“Well babies typically fly better because you can feed them and they fall asleep and don’t notice the pressure changes. Unfortunately he is old enough to feel it, making our flight very interesting.”

“And you didn’t want to fly private” Fred jokes kissing your head.

“I didn’t think it was necessary…” you trail off. Oliver spent most of the flight crying, you tried soothing him and playing movies, trying to get him to nap but nothing would help. You had almost gotten him to sleep when the plane hit some turbulence waking him up. “But flying commercial would have been brutal; I would have felt so bad for everyone onboard. You were right.”

“What was that?” he asks grinning at you. You know he heard you perfectly.

You smile and turn your head to him “I said you were right.”

Fred pumps his hand in the air “yes” he exclaims quietly to not wake Oliver. You laugh lightly when Fred rolls on top of you and kisses your forehead.

“I like being right” he says smiling at you.

You cup his cheeks and kiss him lightly “keep it up and it won’t happen again.”

Fred laughs and kisses you again. He drops down and places his head on your chest, his hand slides under your shirt, lightly rubbing circles on your skin. Your hand slides up to his hair and you gently begin running your hand through his red hair.

“Ready for our families?” he asks lightly.

You groan in response “I don’t know if I will ever be ready.”

It’s the first time you will be spending with Fred’s family in almost two years. You have talked with his mom a bit, but most of your conversations have been about Oliver. The only time you have talked to Ernst is when Fred is on the phone and you would tell him to say hi for you.

If you weren’t nervous enough for seeing his family, your grandparents are also coming to town. They were going to be in London for part of July and Fred suggested (and coordinated) for them to visit a few days. But they aren’t just spending time with the three of you; they are also meeting Fred’s family and siblings.

“It’s not going to be that bad skat” he says stroking up your side.

“Last time I saw your dad he called me a gold digger” you whisper.

Fred stills on top of you before pushing himself onto his elbows. “My dad wanted to talk to you last year at his birthday, I asked him not too. I didn’t want it to take away from his first birthday for you.”

“Well I’m not overly worried about your family” you explain. “Your mom messaged me on Instagram saying she was excited to see me, something about a girl’s day with your sister” Fred smiles at that before you continue. “Last time I saw my grandparents they basically told me they didn’t approve of how I’m living my life or raising my son.”

“Okay, but that was a year ago. Things have changed since then.”

“But they shouldn’t have to; I shouldn’t have to be with my father’s son to get their approval. Like obviously I am very happy we’re together, but that shouldn’t impact their opinion of me. And they won’t approve of us not being married but living together” you exclaim.

“They should have supported you from the beginning. I’m not going to argue that, and I’m sorry that this has been happening. But maybe they have realized they’re wrong and want to try and repair the relationship. Why else would they agree to see you?”

He moves to lie on his side, and pulls you in tight to his chest. “Because they haven’t had the opportunity to meet him” you say looking to Oliver.

“Or it’s because they love you and miss you” he says kissing your temple. “Try to sleep, everything will be fine. And if it’s not well it’s only a couple days, and I’ll be by your side the entire time.” Fred lightly draws circles on your waist as his breathing slows. You feel him drift to sleep beside you; you lay there staring at the ceiling.

A million thoughts run in your head as your heart races. You focus on Fred’s breathing trying to match his in attempt to calm your heart. You shouldn’t be this worried, you know Fred’s family is happy to see you, and his mom has given you subtle hints that Ernst is excited as well. And you have dealt with your grandparents your entire life; it’s not new to you. Eventually you shut your mind off and drift off.

“Momma” you hear as you feel a little body crawling on the bed. Your eyes flutter open to see your son smiling as he crawls up the bed.

“Up momma” he says jumping on your stomach.

“Umph” you say as air leaves your chest. A wide smile spreads across your face as you pull Oliver in to tickle him. Fred sits in the bed and sets a coffee on the table. “Little man said it’s almost lunchtime so you had to get up.

Your eyes go wide, “lunchtime?” you question. You turn and look at the clock and realize it’s after 11 “wow, I didn’t get a good sleep last night.”

“I know, you woke me up with all your tossing and turning” he says, you look up at him and see the bags under his eyes. Guilt washes over you as you realize he has been up for the past few hours with your son, playing with him and keeping him quiet so you could sleep when he himself didn’t sleep that well.

“I’m sorry babe” you say looking up at him.

“Its fine” he says sighing “but I told you that you don’t need to be stressed. Everything is going to go well, and we will have a few days to relax once this is all over.” Fred kisses your forehead and takes Oliver out of the room so you can get ready.

An hour later you are ready for the day and walk to the living room. You can hear Oliver starting to fuss a little “Ollie bud you ready for lunch?” you ask as you adjust the clasp on your watch. He runs over to you “yeah” he yells.

“Okay, let’s get your shoes on then we can go.” You all head to the door and put your shoes on “let me just grab my hat” Fred says wandering to the bedroom. You hear a knock on the door, and without even looking through the peephole you open it.

“Grandma, Grandpa!” you exclaim staring at the people in front of you. “What are you doing here? You aren’t supposed to be here until tomorrow.”

“Your grandfather told the movers to come on the 10th not the 12th by mistake and we weren’t able to reschedule. Instead of having one day with you, we decided to come a day early and get two days with our great-grandson.” Your grandma bends down to Oliver’s eye level and him being the social butterfly he is immediately says hi to her with a smile.

“You’re moving?” you question.

Your grandma has a conversation with Oliver about the ninja turtle shirt he is wearing while your grandpa answers “yeah, we’ve been finding it hard to do the back and forth between Toronto and England multiple times throughout the year.” “So you’re moving back to Toronto?”

“For now, that house is too big too and we can’t do the grass cutting and snow shovelling. We don’t need the space so we are going to move somewhere smaller with no maintenance” he responds.

A ping of guilt washes over you because they are right. They are around 80 and you can see the frailness in their eyes. The past few years you haven’t had much of relationship with them, but that was your choice. The last time you saw them was last summer, and your visit was cut very short. They had reached out and you had been too bitter to respond, and now almost 2 ½ years had gone by since you had any real contact with them.

You want them in your life; they are the only family you have left and you love them. But you don’t know if you can handle the judgment and ridicule. You feel a lump in your throat but before you can respond Fred rubs up beside you.

You didn’t even hear him walk down the hall and are only snapped from your thoughts when you hear your grandpa speak.

“You must be Frederik” he says. “I’m John and this is Debbie, we’re (Y/N)’s grandparents.” Fred gives you a sideways glance before sticking his hand out to shake his hand. He turns to your grandma who immediately hugs him.

“(Y/N) told me you were a hockey player, but she never said you were this handsome” she says pulling back.

“Grandma!” you exclaim. A blush spreads across both your and Fred’s face.

“There was mix-up with the movers so they decided to come down early to get more than a day with us” you explain.

“Great” Fred says. “We were going to grab lunch and then take this guy to the park; we’d love for you to join us.”

“They just got in Fred, they probably want to unpack and relax -” you start to say.

“Oh nonsense” your Grandma cuts you off “we’d love to come, just don’t want to impose we know its very last minute.”

“It wouldn’t be an imposition, I insist” Fred says to them. With that the 5 of you leave the hotel and walk to a small café and grab lunch.

“He reminds me of you as a baby” your grandma says partway through lunch looking to Oliver who is peacefully sitting in his highchair eating.

“You were always a well behaved baby. When we would take you out to restaurants, neighbouring tables would always give us concerned look, since some babies don’t do well in restaurants. But you would just sit there and colour while waiting, and would eat quietly. Half the time you wouldn’t even know there was a baby with us.”

You smile lightly “I never knew that.”

“I see a lot of you in him. Not in his physical appearance, he is a spitting image of his father, but in other ways” your grandpa says.

“What was she like as a baby?” Fred asks. “Or even as a kid? I don’t know much about it. She showed me one photo album and told me a few stories but that’s it.”

“Trouble” your grandpa says laughing. “She was an angel in public, but at home she went a mile a minute. Basically ran before she walked, and nothing could stop her.”

“She always wanted to be outside, getting messy. Jumping in mud puddles” you grandma adds.

Fred laughs at that, giving your thigh a light squeeze “sounds like a toddler I know” he smiles.

“Well we have cases of photo albums and home movies that are being shipped back to Canada. Next time you’re in Toronto stop by and we will show you them” your grandma says. “We have a lot of stuff, some blankets, bibs, stuff that was your dads, which you used as a kid too. Your first pair of hockey skates was his first pair.” A smile spreads across your face, you didn’t even know they had this stuff, let alone kept it.

“I will definitely come over to look at all these things, but you have to promise me embarrassing stories too” Fred says half joking.

“Why wait until you come to Toronto, we can tell you some now” your grandma responds.

You groan loudly in displeasure. “I think it’s time to go to the park now” you say trying to change the conversation.

While at the park Fred, John and Oliver play together while you and your grandma sit on a bench watching. “I’m sorry about what I said last time I saw you” she says lightly.

“So am I grandma” you agree.

“No, you reacted how you should have. We shouldn’t have said those things to you. It’s taken us a bit to realize that times have changed, and that not everyone has conventional families. You have done a great job raising that boy; he is happy, well-behaved and loved. That’s all that should matter.”

Tears have begun to well in your eyes; you grab her cool hand and hold it in yours. “I am happy that you and Fred are together and you are all a family now. But if that changes, you will always have my support. I just wish I could have shown you that before.”

You kiss her cheek and rest your head on her shoulder “Thank you, but I hope that never happens” you say.

“Your grandpa and I have talked about moving to Pittsburgh so we can be near you and spend some time with Oliver. We understand that you are staying there with Fred, and we would like make up for lost time and –.” Before she can continue you wrap your arms around her.

The tears have now started to spill down your cheeks. Your grandma looks at you “oh dear, I didn’t mean to make you cry” she says wiping them.

“No no Grandma, these are happy tears. I would love it if you came, and so would Fred and Oliver. I think it would be awesome. Be good for Oliver to have family so close since Fred’s family is in Denmark.”

Your grandma smiles and pulls you in tight for a hug. You eventually wander back to the hotel. As you are in the elevator your grandpa says “maybe we can all grab breakfast tomorrow.” “No” Fred says. “We’re not done seeing you today. Join us with my family tonight.” “Oh Frederik we wouldn’t want to impose” she says.

“You wouldn’t be, they are excited to meet you. I’m sure it would be fine” Fred responds.

“That’s okay dear, we are kind of tired from the flight and chasing this guy around the park” your grandma says looking to Oliver. “We will meet them tomorrow as planned though.”

“Okay grandma, love you” you say walking over and hugging and kissing them both on the cheek before they open the door to their hotel room.

You walk into the room and set Oliver down for a nap. Fred’s large arms immediately wrap around you, pulling you in close “you okay? I saw you crying at the park.”

“Yeah that was just from regret I think. All the things I missed, they missed and Oliver missed because I was stubborn. I just…I’m happy I have the time to repair my relationship and Oliver can get to know them.” You feel Fred’s lift graze your head as his arms stoke up and down your arms.

“They mentioned they might move to Pittsburgh” you say looking up at him.

“Yeah John mentioned that to me at the park, I think it would be great” he responds kissing you lightly.

“Me too” you say with a smile.

That night you head to Fred’s parents’ house. As soon as you open the door you hear laughter and music being played and loud conversations. Fred’s parents invited some of his aunts, uncles and cousins down to see you guys.

“Down mommy” Oliver squeals wanting to get inside and see everyone. You set him down and he immediately takes off running into the party. You and Fred laugh as you make your way into the house.

“Frederik” Charlotte exclaims wrapping him in a big hug.

“Hey mom” he says kissing her cheek. She lets go and wraps her arms around you “where is my grandson?” she asks.

“He took off as soon as we opened the door, was too excited to see everyone” you say smiling.

She immediately hands you each a glass of wine and chats with you as she gets some of the food ready. A few minutes later Oliver comes running into the kitchen “daddy I have a drink?” he asks tugging on Fred’s hand.

Before he has the chance to respond Charlotte scoops his up in a large hug “of course you can” she says walking to the fridge “what do you want?” she asks listing off the choices.

“Can I have juice?” he asks.

“Of course you can. I also made some chocolate chip cookies, you want one?“ she asks and Oliver nods with a big smile on his face.

“Mom” Fred groans.

“Oh hush he can have one before dinner” she says opening the container and handing one to him before he runs off.

“Every time she sees him she spoils him” Fred groans causing you to laugh.

“That’s what grandma’s do” you laugh. “If my mom was here, she would be the worst for it.”

After dinner Fred is pulled into conversations with some of his dad and uncles, as you are in the kitchen with Charlotte, Amalie and a couple of his aunts. You are looking out the window as Oliver plays with Fred’s brothers, it is way past his bedtime but you know he is too excited to sleep right now.

“If you aren’t careful your glass will never empty” Amalie says drawing your attention back to the room. You look at your glass which is now full, Amalie nods towards her mother “she has a reputation for bottomless wine.”

“Not a bad problem to have” you say laughing and taking a sip.

“That is until Oliver wakes up at 7am” Amalie smiles.

“Yeah and Fred has had more than me, one of us should be responsible tonight so we can feed him in the morning.”

“I’m really glad you are with him” Amalie says moving closer to you. “I know we don’t know each other all that well but Fred was unbearable last summer when he came to visit” she says to you.

“Yeah, that was my fault. Wish I could have figured this out sooner” you say lightly.

“Would have been good, but you’re here now. That’s what important” she starts taking a sip of wine. “Two years ago when you were pregnant and visited I knew you would end up together. We both did” she says nodding to her mother. “Fred didn’t see it, or maybe he didn’t want to see it but we could tell. When I watched you two experience his first kick, I knew then. I’m so happy you’re with him and now I have a sister.”

You wrap your arms around her “I’m so happy to have a sister, I was an only child growing up.”

You turn your head and see Fred staring at you smiling as he watches you. Soon you hear Oliver crying which draws both of your attention. Fred walks over to him and picks him up and carries him to the kitchen.

“Somebody thinks they are a big boy and can stay up late. And then he falls and normally would get up and keep running, but because it’s almost an hour and a half past his bedtime it’s the worst thing ever” Fred says of the screaming toddler in his arms. You laugh and kiss your sons cheek which doesn’t help his tantrum “let’s get him home and to bed” Fred says.

Oliver fuses while you say goodbye to everyone, and screams when you attempt to buckle him into the car seat. Before you had even made it down the street Oliver had fallen asleep in his car seat.

“All that fussing and he is asleep in under a minute” Fred laughs.

When you arrive at the hotel you carefully remove Oliver and make your way to your room. You put Oliver to bed and see Fred lying fully clothed in bed. You walk over and pull his shirt over his head when Fred wraps his arms around you pulling you into the bed with him.

You are a tangled mess of limbs when he starts kissing your neck. “Babe” you groan “you’re drunk.”

“So? Hasn’t stopped you before” he jokes. He tries to shuffle his weight to be over you, but instead he trips and falls onto the bed. “You haven’t been this drunk before Freddie. I’m not going to take advantage of you.”

You try to move away when Fred places a sloppy kiss on your cheek “take all the advantages you want babe” he growls.

His arms wrap around you and he nips at your ear. You through your head back and laugh as he slides a hand up your shirt.

“Not gonna give up are you?” you joke to him.

“Nope” he says nipping your neck “might as well give in babe.”

You roll to straddle him and place a soft kiss on his lips. “Make you a deal” you whisper against his lips. “I’m going to the bathroom to get ready for bed. If you are still awake and have your pants off when I get back, we can do whatever you want.” You kiss him and he moans into the kiss, you pull away and smirk at him before walking into the bathroom.

When you walk back into the room Fred is asleep his legs hanging off the side of the bed; he has unbuttoned his jeans but never managed to pull them his legs. You laugh at the sight and swing his legs back onto the bed, you attempt to pull his jeans down but Fred mumbles and rolls over.

You give up and crawl into bed beside him pulling the duvet over the both of you. You kiss Fred on the cheek before turning the light off. The next morning, because Oliver stayed up almost 2 hours past his bedtime he slept in until 9. You however had woken up at 8:15, alarmed to see Fred beside you as you assumed Oliver would have woken up by then.

Fred is sprawled out on his stomach, you see a half drank bottle of water on the table beside him. His hair has fallen in front of his eyes, the duvet is hung low on his hips. You see his jeans in a pile on the floor, indicating he woke up at some point in the night. You hear his soft snores, you lean over and place a soft kiss on his temple before crawling out of bed.

You have a shower and order breakfast to the suite when Oliver finally stirs. You quickly walk over and pick him up “hey bud” you whisper “gotta be quiet daddy is sleeping.” You place a kiss on his forehead and get him changed for the day when the food arrives.

You set the food up and put a plate in front of Oliver. You stand up to grab a coffee cup when Fred wraps his arms around you. You can smell the whiskey and wine on him, and feel his warmth from his shirtless body pressed against you “morning” he groans kissing your cheek before sitting down.

You pour him some water and hand him a coffee and breakfast. When you sit beside him you see bags under his eyes, his face is flushed and he is eating slowly indicating his stomach isn’t feeling the best. He pushes his eggs around on his plate, picking at his breakfast.

“Daddy uncle ‘Bastian is so funny” Oliver says. Fred looks up at him and smiles lightly while Oliver rambles on about some of last night’s activities. Oliver finishes his breakfast and Fred helps him down before leaning back in his chair taking a large sip of water.

“I feel fucking terrible” Fred says quietly. You stand up and kiss his cheek before handing him some Tylenol.

“Thanks babe” he replies taking the Tylenol. “How are you doing?” he asks.

You smile and take a sip of coffee “much better than you” you joke and he chuckles.

“No I’m actually doing okay. I stopped before you, and drank a lot less than you. I also had water before bed. Tried to get you to drink some but you passed out with your jeans still on.”

“Yeah I woke up around 4 and drank some but it was too late then” he explains.

“Go have a nap babe, it’ll help you feel better.” Fred stands up and kisses your check before walking to the bedroom and closes the door. You and Oliver play in the living room for a few hours when you hear the shower turn on.

A half hour later Fred walks out and you see some colour has returned to his cheeks. He has on a pair or cargo shorts and a white tee with a black Nike hat “daddy” Oliver squeals running to him.

“Hey big guy” he says throwing Oliver up in the air and tickling him.

“Feeling better?” you ask Fred. He kisses your cheek “yes, the nap helped.” He places a soft kiss on your lips before turning his attention back to Oliver.

“Told my grandparents we’d be leaving in an hour” you say to Fred who is play wrestling with Oliver. You can tell he didn’t really hear you as he pretends to body slam Oliver into the couch “again daddy again!” he squeals. Fred looks up to you and you point to the bedroom, indicating you are going to get ready. He nods before turning his attention back to Oliver.

That afternoon you all arrive at his parents’ house, and are greeted with large hugs. You are so nervous you could almost puke. Fred said not to worry, but you have been so anxious about being around his dad. With everyone over the night before you didn’t have a chance to talk with Ernst much, but tonight it is a much smaller crowd.

Tonight it’s just his parents and your grandparents. His siblings aren’t even home so you know you will likely talk with Ernst at some point. Oliver wanders off to play with some toys Charlotte has set out for him. You are immediately given a glass of wine although you doubt Fred will drink much; your families introduce themselves to each other.

“So you live in England?” Ernst asks to your grandparents.

“We split our time between England and Toronto” your grandpa explains. “I was born in England and have some family here, so we have a flat that we stay in throughout the year. But we recently decided it was too hard splitting our time.”

“So you’re moving back to Toronto?” Charlotte questions.

“For now yes. We are considering moving to Pittsburgh to be closer to (Y/N). Maybe babysit Oliver…” your grandma says.

“Oliver would love that” Fred says.

“I know, spending time with him is the best. We are spending 4 nights with Oliver after you return to England and I am so excited for all that time with him.” Charlotte says.

You shoot Fred a questioning glance “4 nights? Interesting, I didn’t know we were going anywhere without him.”

“I have something planned” he explains shrugging walking over to Oliver to play with him.

“Do I get to know these plans?” you ask.

“Nope” he responds, popping the “p” while grinning before he turns his attention to Oliver.

“A surprise vacation” your grandma says “that will be exciting!”

“Yeah, he has a tendency to plan surprise trips and not tell me” you explain shooting a sideways glance to Fred who is sitting on the floor smiling while pretending not to hear you.

“You’re father used to plan surprise trips for your mother. Sometimes they would be day trips, but he did plan their 10 year anniversary trip without her knowing, even booked time off with her work and everything” your grandpa tells you.

“She loved them, would come back smiling and couldn’t stop talking about them for weeks” your grandma explains. Fred has picked Oliver up and is walking over to you.

“Hopefully this one goes better than the last one” Fred jokes. Everyone sends confused glances towards you both.

“Last one started really well, it was the last couple hours that went horribly” you laugh lightly. “But that won’t happen this time, guaranteed.”

You look at Fred who is now standing beside you; he kisses your forehead “good” he says lightly.

“Dinners ready” Charlotte says. You all sit around the table eating and drinking, your grandparents sharing many embarrassing stories from your childhood. You can tell Fred loves hearing all this content as a smile hasn’t left his face the entire time. You look over to Oliver and notice him beginning to doze off, so you scoop him up and change him into pyjamas before taking him to a room to sleep. When you make your way back to the living room you see people are making their way to the living room.

Ernst walks up to you “(Y/N) can I talk to you for a second?”

“Yeah of course” you reply as you follow him outside to the patio, butterflies filling your stomach. You sit on one of the patio chairs while Ernst leans against the railing.

“I wanted to apologize to you for what I said when you visited last time”

“You don’t have to apologize you were protecting your son. It’s something I understand now more than ever.”

“Still I shouldn’t have said that to you. I genuinely am sorry. I also wish this apology came much sooner. You have been good for Frederik, I haven’t seen him this happy before.”

“Thank you for the apology. But I understand. It wasn’t an ideal situation how all this transpired. But everything worked out and I wouldn’t change it.” You pause for a second before laughing “Actually I would have met and been in a relationship with him before I got pregnant to make things a million times easier. But everything worked out.”

Ernst laughs a little at your comment. “Yeah it sure did. You and Oliver have changed Fred. I see it. I’m happy you’re in Fred’s life and a part of this family.”

You stand up and walk over to him and give him a hug. You look inside and see Fred staring out at you, watching the exchange.

“I’m also sorry for my comment about your parents. That was completely out of line.”

“Ernst I forgive you, I did a while ago.”

“Still I needed to acknowledge it” he says pulling you in tighter. “I like you (Y/N). You make my son very happy, I wish I could have seen it sooner.”

“It wasn’t an easy path Ernst, all that matters is where we are now” you say smiling at him as you separate.

“Well I’m glad you’re here. And thank you for sending Charlotte the abundance of baby content. Even though we didn’t have the best relationship, you managed to put family first. It really shows the type of person you are and how you were raised” he says.

You can feel a ball forming in your throat, before Ernst continues. “Hopefully Fred locks you down before you wise up and realize you’re too good for him.” This causes you to laugh “I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

“Good, I can’t wait to call you my daughter-in-law. Maybe that’s what he has planned on your trip” he says winking and walking back inside.

You stand outside dumbfounded for a few minutes. Is Fred going to propose? I only recently moved back in and we haven’t had conversations about this. A proposal is normally a surprise, but I should have some inclination that it’s coming at some point. We haven’t even said I love you yet, not that I don’t love him. I do love him, and I think he loves me. But shouldn’t we say it to one another before an engagement? After a few minutes and many deep breaths you finally join everyone else inside. You sit on the couch beside Fred who gives you a concerned glance; he watched the entire exchange with his father and can tell your demeanor has shifted. You shoot him a soft smile, trying to reassure him you are okay but you honestly don’t know if you are.

“Are you okay” your grandma asks. “You are awfully quiet.”

“Yeah I’m just getting kind of tired” you lie, but it is somewhat believable since it’s almost 11:30. Everything since your conversation with Ernst has been a blur; you have barely been engaged in the conversation. You can tell Fred is worried about you, you have felt him constantly staring at you all night.

“Yeah” your grandpa blindly agrees. “If we stay we will open another bottle, and we will hate ourselves on our flight tomorrow for it.”

“We should probably be getting back” Fred says squeezing your thigh as he stands up.

You make your way to the door while Fred carefully collects Oliver without waking him. You hug his parent’s goodbye before heading out the car for the drive home. Fred carries a causal conversation with your grandparents as you stare out the window.

A half an hour later you have returned to your hotel, and Oliver is fast asleep in the other room. Fred has changed and is in bed, his back pressed against the headboard. You move to the bathroom to start your night routine, taking your time. You know Fred is going to want to talk about what happened that night, your conversation with his father.

You however are so anxious you could almost vomit. Things are going good between you, and if you’re being honest with yourself you do see yourself marrying him in the future, you just aren’t ready yet. You take extra-long in the bathroom, hoping Fred has fallen asleep and you can avoid this conversation for now, but when you open the door you see him still awake and the lights on.

You crawl into bed, laying a foot away from him looking at the ceiling. You sit in silence for what feels like an hour but was likely only minute before you head Fred take a deep breath.

“What’s going on (Y/N)?” he quietly asks.

“Nothing” you whisper.

He turns his head to you, but you can’t make eye contact still staring at the light fixture on the ceiling.

“Please don’t lie. I saw you outside with my dad for a bit, and he left you out there. You stayed outside a bit after he came in, did he say something? If he did, please tell me so I can talk to him. It’s not okay…” You can feel your heart rate pick up. You can’t focus on what Fred is saying as he keeps rambling.

“Are you going to propose?” you whisper, unable to speak louder.

“What?” he asks.

“Are you going to propose?” you repeat much louder this time. You turn to look at him. He stares at you for a minute before bursting out laughing.

“Is that why you were acting so weird? What gave you that idea?”

“Your dad” you mumble.

“My dad?” he asks.

“He said how he can’t wait until I’m his daughter-in-law. Then he said maybe you had planned on doing it on the trip in a few days.”

Fred shifts in the bed to lay beside you “Elskede I’m not planning on proposing to you on this trip, I don’t have a ring. I’m glad you and my dad are getting along though, I was really worried about what happened.” You roll to your side to look at him, he pushes your hair behind your ear and kisses you lightly. “It’s good to know where you are on that though, would marrying me be that terrible?”

“No babe. I can see that, the white dress, you and Oliver in matching tuxedos; I’m just not there yet. Like I know it’s been two and a half years since we met, but we weren’t together for that whole time. We just moved in together, and I love living with you, and being a family. I’m just…”

Before you can finish Fred presses his lips to yours briefly before pulling back “I know” he whispers, pulling you in tight to his chest causing a light sigh to leave your lips. He tilts your chin up and looks down at you.

“Don’t worry skat, this trip is just about you and me spending some time together. Thought it would be nice to have a few days together, just you and me before the season starts.” He kisses your forehead before continuing “I just wanted to show you how much you mean to me. How much I appreciate you and everything you do. You deserve a couple days off of mom duty, and my mom is super excited to have a few days with him.” You laugh lightly at that comment before Fred closes the gap, gently pressing his lips to yours. You bring your hand up to his chest as you sink into the kiss.

“You deserve to relax” he mumbles against your lips. “Let me help you relax” he says pushing you onto your back.

You slide one hand up to his hair lightly running your hands through it, and your other slides down his stomach toying with the hem of his shirt. His hand slides down to your hips slipping under your shirt. He begins to lightly draw circles on your bare skin, you moan into the kiss.

Fred pulls away and looks down at you, you stare into his brown eyes seeing love look back at you. He stares at you for a moment, staring down at you, but it feels like he is looking into your soul. You want to tell him, you feel it on the tip of your lips but before you can open your mouth Fred kisses you. There is fire and passion behind this kiss.

His hand reaches up your shirt, palming your breast. He is playing with your nipple, before he squeezes it causing you to jump slightly. He chuckles pulling your shirt over your head, his mouth moves to your neck sucking on your sweet spot. Your head leans back into the pillow as you moan, your fingers sliding further down his back.

“Du er så smuk” he whispers in your ear before he pulls your shirt over your head “så smuk.”

His mouth attaches to your nipple, sucking on it. You bend your leg, he brings his hand to stroke up and down the back of your thigh. He slides his hand up into your pyjama shorts gently touching your folds. He slowly slides two fingers in, your hands have now moved down to cup his ass as he moves his fingers in and out slowly.

You moan his name loudly while his fingers continue to slowly thrust in and out of you. He is swirling his tongue around your nipple. You bring your hands up to his elastic band of his shorts and slide them underneath. You try to slide his boxers down his large thighs but are overcome with pleasure as Fred has increased the speed of his fingers; you can’t get your hands to fully work. He pulls his fingers out of you and helps you pull them off, his cock slapping against his chest as it frees from its restraints. He pushes your shorts down your legs, and throws them to the side.

On his way back to you, he places light kisses on the inside of your thigh as he approaches your core. His hands glide over your body, while he plants light feathery kisses on you. You melt into his touch, your moans filling the room. Your arousal is at a peak, you are practically dripping and can’t contain yourself when you feel Fred place light kisses on your wet pussy before finally licking you.

A deep moan leaves your mouth as he looks up smiling, his eyes now dark with lust. He returns his mouth to your core to lick your folds a few more times. There is something different about tonight, it isn’t rushed. Every movement is lined with passion, it’s soft and sensual.

He is gently placing kisses on your folds, while his hand lightly caresses up your thigh. He turns his head to your thigh and places soft kisses on you.

“Babe” you moan softly as he reattaches his mouth to your clit.

He lightly sucks on it before opening you up and sliding his tongue inside you. He gently pushes his tongue in and out of you, your hands slide to his shoulders while his tongue glides over your wetness.

He pulls back to suck on your clit and brings his fingers up grazing over your folds. He slowly slides a finger in, then two, slowly he slowly starts pumping his fingers in and out, curling inside as his mouth sucks on your clit.

You know that this speed won’t have your orgasm crashing over you any time soon. But tonight is about more than that and you both know it. Fred slips his mouth from you, and begins to make his way up to you, leaving a trail of soft kisses on your stomach, chest and neck.

His fingers continue to slowly pump in you, as you moan. Fred brings his head to yours and kisses you, you taste yourself on him when you feel his fingers slip out and it’s replaced by his tip which is pressed against your entrance.

He brings a hand up to your hair and engages you in a deep kiss before he slowly thrusts into you, bottoming out while keeping his lips on yours. You wrap your legs around his waist as you lift your hips and begin rocking with him. He sets a slow and sweet pace as he thrusts into you, one hand placed on the bed beside your head, the other holding your leg around him.

“Fuck you feel so good” he groans. “You’re so tight” he mumbles biting your neck gently; sending shivers through you.

Your hand is wrapped around his neck, your other on his back tightens, nails digging into his muscles. He keeps his pace slow, but every thrust is deep, pressing into your g-spot. You can feel your high slowly approaching as he keeps pushing into you. He peppers your collarbone and neck with soft kisses.

“Freddie” you moan as his cock pushes deep inside you. He almost pulls out completely before pushing back in fully. His head dips down and he starts sucking on your hard pink nipple, swirling his tongue around it. He can feel your high approaching as he keeps his pace “wait for me baby” he whispers rocking into you.

“Always” you reply.

You take your hand from his back and bring it around to your sensitive bud and begin rolling circles onto it.

“You’re something else babe” he says lightly in your ear before gently biting it.

“Fuck” you mutter, arching your back further to increase the angle he is hitting you. You hear Fred begin to mumble curse words above you as he becomes erratic and sloppy. His hand slides up your thigh to your ass lifting your hips higher, he grips your ass tightly as he continues his deep slow thrusts. Sweat is dripping down his chest, his forehead glistens in the light.

“Babe, I’m gonna…” Fred starts to say. You cut him off by kissing him passionately, you feel yourself be filled with his warmth. The feeling of his warm cum inside you has your high comes crashing over you. An intense explosion erupts within you, as you pulsate around his cock.

He collapses onto you, kissing your cheek as he stills inside you. You both take a minute to regain your breath. After a few minutes he lifts himself on his forearms and looks into your eyes, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. He embraces you in his grip, locking you into a fierce kiss. He pulls out, some of his warm cum spills out and down your thigh. He gets up and heads to the bathroom for a few minutes.

He returns a few minutes later with a pair of boxers on and a warm wash cloth. He gently cleans you up before pulling one of his t-shirts over your head. Fred crawls into bed beside you, pulling you into his chest.

Fred lies on his back, you tucked tightly into his arm. You have your hand placed softly on his chest as your hear his heart beat. The beating of his heart is a soothing sound and you begin to doze off when you hear him whisper “jeg elsker dig.”

“What was that babe?” you mumble.

“Mm, oh nothing. Go to sleep babe.”

Next Chapter

#frederik andersen #Freddie Andersen #fred andersen #frederik andersen fic #frederik andersen smut #freddie andersen smut #freddie andersen fic #frederik andersen x reader #freddie andersen x reader #fred andersen smut #Fred Andersen Fic #NHL Smut #NHL Fic #fred andersen x reader #fredzilla #because two people got drunk #my writing

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avatarstories · 4 years

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izumi’s birthday part three: sources of wisdom

The next morning, breakfast with the family is awkward. Izumi was a few moments late, having had to stop by the royal seamstress to have the last adjustments fitted for party outfit finished. By the time she arrived at breakfast, everyone was seated, and the only empty chair was between her father and Bumi. Bumi’s stony expression made her want to just be swallowed up by the floor. Maybe she could go find Druk and convince him to eat her. She gives Bumi a sad smile, and he rolls his eyes with a noticeable exhale. Izumi takes her seat quietly trying her hardest to give him as much space as possible.

“Are we going to talk about how Izumi and Bumi are making the air in the room extremely uncomfortable?” Kya says. “Lover’s quarrel?” she jokes.

“Fuck off, Kya” Bumi mutters, looking down at the table in front of him. Kya is across from him and leans in trying to get his attention.

“Excuse me?” she says with a joking lilt in her voice.

Bumi doesn’t say anything. Instead, he throws his tea at Kya and storms out of the dining room. Everyone is silent but all eyes are on Izumi. Having managed to stop the tea from hitting her, Kya bends it back into a cup.

“Well, Happy Birthday, Izumi! What an exciting way to start the day,” Kya deadpans. Zuko looks at Izumi with a concerned expression. Azula looks ready to go to murder. Toph and Lin have their eyebrows raised and are taking a big sips of their mango juices. Tenzin hangs his head and focuses intently at his rice. Izumi notices Katara giving Aang a look that says go after him and when he doesn’t move she shakes her head.

“This looks like a job for a wise old man like me,” Iroh says, pushing his chair back so that he can stand up.

“General Iroh, it’s really ok, Aang can take care of it,” Katara says.

“Uh, I kinda agree with General Iroh,” Aang replies sheepishly.

If looks could kill, the ice in Katara’s eyes would have Aang pinned to the wall. “You are unbelievable,” she says quietly, though the anger and disappointment in her tone are unmistakable. She follows Bumi out the door

“Looks like Twinkletoes is in the polar bear doghouse,” Toph says. Aang groans and then goes after Katara and Bumi.

“Care to enlighten us, Izumi?” Azula asks.

“Not really,” she mutters. “I’m going to the training yard,” she announces quietly, and she walks out the door.

Azula looks between Zuko and Iroh “I would go after her, but I was planning to go boss some staff around to make sure her party is perfect, which I think now needs to be even more perfect,” she says.

“I will see what is bothering our dear Izumi,” Iroh says pushing out his chair once again. He and Azula leave the room.

“Man,” Lin says “I thought mom and I would be the ones to start drama.” At that, Sokka laughs so hard he snorts, and Suki punches him in the side for it. —————————————————————————————————

Izumi is moving through advanced katas when Iroh finds her.

“I have told you before, forms practiced in anger are like tea steeped in unclean water, dear Izumi.”

She finishes the form sending an arc of a flame towards the stone wall with an audibly annoyed exhale.

“Now, are you going to tell me what is wrong or should I guess? Kya suggested a -”

“IM NOT DATING BUMI! CAN EVERYONE STOP THINKING THAT!”

Iroh chuckles. “Everyone used to think the same of your father and Katara when they were yours and Bumi’s ages. When people share a special bond others cannot help but wonder. But of course I did not come here to talk about your father’s youthful affections. It appears you and Bumi are experiencing a strain. Care to inform your old grandfather so he can help you?”

“We had a misunderstanding.”

“I know that I am old, Izumi, but I am not blind.”

“Bumi was telling me about some issues in their family between him and his dad, and I basically told him that he should be lucky not to have the weight of a legacy on his shoulders.”

“So your problem stems from your fear of your future,” Iroh affirms. “Rightfully so on an occasion as momentous as your 17th birthday, but Izumi, you are a kind, gentle, and fair minded young woman, and your father is a picture of health, what has brought about this anxiety?”

Izumi crosses her arms and says nothing.

“Izumi?”

“I overheard some of the noblewomen talking about a curse on the Fire Ladies.”

“And what is this curse?”

“That Fire Ladies who die in childbirth give rise to evil Fire Lords. The spirits make them pay the ultimate price for what they bring into the world.”

Iroh takes in her words. “And so you have applied this to your own birth?” Izumi nods.

“You’re young yet Izumi, but I think you will find that destiny is what you make of it,” he says. “You and your father are the descendants of Sozin and Azulon, but you’re also the descendants of Avatar Roku on your grandmother’s side. There’s light and dark in you, and you will have to chose what nature you will allow to flourish. But knowing you, I would largely place my bets on the light side. And,” he takes a pause, “you can always seek to redeem yourself for your faults. I tried to break through the walls of Ba Sing Se, and then I took it back from the Fire Nation. Your father chased Aang halfway across the world, and now they are best friends. Azula was one of the most terrifying people in existence -”

“She still is.”

He chuckles. “Yes, she still is. But the original fire bending masters deemed her worthy of regaining her power when she lost it and repented, and they even gifted her a dragon egg as they did to your father,” he explains.

“Your father’s legacy was to end a war. Yours will be the equally important one of maintaining peace,” Iroh says. “Now, maybe you should go practice that and make your amends with Master Bumi. I am off to make some tea.”

“What if he won’t speak to me,” she asks.

“Well then your partner dance in front of the court later on at your party will be terribly uncomfortable!” he says walking back inside. ——————————————————————————————————— Bumi does not really know where he is walking to, and he just follows the direction that instinct takes him. He can hear his parents behind him, but he does not stop.

“Bumi please,” Katara calls.

He groans and walks faster. In this instance, he was incredibly pleased with himself because he still remembers some of the secret passageways in the palace that Izumi had showed him as children when they would play hide and explode with Izumi’s Aunt Kiyi and Aunt Azula, so he ducked into one that he knew was coming and hears his parents run right passed. It was slightly dark inside, which made perfect sense considering that usually only firebenders used these hallways and had no need for any other light.

Bumi went off memory and kept his right hand on the wall. If he had to figure this out like a maze in order to get out, that’s what he would do. After about ten minutes in the dark, he feels a variation in the stone that tells him he’s found a door. If he remembers correctly, this one will let him out by the portrait gallery. However, when he opens the door, he’s stopped by a piece of furniture.

“Huh?” he hears someone ask, and soon the furniture is being shoved out of the way and the door opens and bright light blinds him, and Azula is standing in front of him.

She stares him up and down. “I would offer to help you but I will warn you first that if you ruin Izumi’s birthday, not even the fact that your father is the Avatar will save you from me.”

Bumi remains frozen, unsure what to do.

“Well don’t just sit there,” she says, raising a brow. He stumbles into what he realizes to be Azula’s office.

“If you are avoiding your parents who ran after you when you caused quite the commotion at breakfast, then my office would definitely be the best place to hide. Push that back into place,” she commands gesturing to the small table she had just moved.

Bumi has not spent much time alone with Azula. Whenever he would visit the Fire Nation, he and Izumi were attached at the hip. Every summer when Kya would go to the Southern Water Tribe and his dad and Tenzin would go to an Air Temple, Bumi would get dropped off in the Fire Nation for a few months of sword training with Master Piandao. After Piandao passed away, Zuko offered to continue training him since Sokka was busy trying to get Republic City up and running. In all that time, he’d never really gotten to know Azula. From what Izumi had told him, Azula was Zuko’s right hand. She lead his small council and sat in on meetings when he was away on diplomatic trips, which made her an extremely powerful person.

He looks around her office. It’s clean and tidy. There is a small ink portrait of Izumi on the wall to the right of Azula's desk, and vases of Fire Lilies around the room.

Azula studies him while he looks around the room. “Should I ask what’s bothering you or should we pretend this exchange never happened?”

“Whatever you prefer,” he replies.

“I prefer to be well informed.”

“Izumi and I had a fight.”

“I gleaned that,” she says flatly. There’s a pause. “Izumi hates celebrating her birthday. She tells us every year it makes her feel guilty, but the 17th birthday of the Heir Apparent is a rite of passage in the Fire Nation.”

“Why’s that?”

“Traditionally, it’s when the Crown Prince, or in Izumi’s case, Princess, starts sitting on the small council and has to take up a stronger political role than just kissing babies and doing well in school… it’s seen as the last day of childhood.”

Oh Bumi thinks. “That’s why she’s so stressed.”

“Most likely a factor.”

“She never mentioned it.”

“Well, you know Izumi. Unless it’s Zuko, getting her to tell you what’s wrong is like pulling teeth. She is like you in that regard.” Bumi looks puzzled. “I read people very well,” she says in reply to his reaction. There’s a pause as she regards him. “I do not imagine it is easy to be a non-bender in a family like yours.”

“Man, you really don’t hold back.”

She offers him a half smile. “I understand the fear of being a disappointment too. When I was 12 I was so scared of failure and what would happen if I disappointed my father. It was not even two years by the time I self destructed.”

“I’m not going to self destruct,” he mutters.

“Then you might need some help carrying that weight on your shoulders around.”

He is quiet for a minute. “What if there’s no one to help me?”

She glances down at a small ink drawing of her mother, Zuko, and herself that sits on her desk. “From my experience, you can often find help in very unexpected places, but you have to be open to being helped.”

AN: you cannot convince me Azula didn’t get a redemption arc and a lot of healing and become a strange source of wisdom. you just can’t. azula redemptions are a peak of feminist literature.

I imagine redeemed Azula serves Zuko in a position similar to the hand of the king from GoT.

#avatarstories #izumi #bumi #azula #zuko #aang #katara #toph #lin #kya #iroh

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fantranslatorbychoice · 4 years

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Kakuriyo no Yadomeshi Volume 6 Chapter 1

T/N: I mostly didn’t translate a lot of the names of the ayakashi/youkai, as well as the proper nouns because uhm... They’re basically nouns. It’s like how some translated manga are done. Plus it irks me sometimes when everything just gets transliterated, it kills off the vibe. But that’s just me. Links to references at the end of the post.

Also if you like this translation, you can share the link, reblog, but for pete’s sake DO NOT REPOST ELSEWHERE. I worked hard to finish this thing, it’s not like I just Google-translated this whole sh**..

If you need refreshers on what happened, @kakuriyo-translations already had the previous translations. I’m just contributing to this fandom. Also, as previously mentioned in my other post, the 2 seasons of the anime cover volumes 1-5, so if you need a review just rewatch them all. Volume 6 starts here.

OK, here’s the stuff now.

Volume 6 - I got hired as a novice in an Ayakashi Inn** From the back cover: Autumn has visited the Ayakashi living in Kakuriyo's long-established inn Tenjin-ya. Aoi who was kidnapped by the rival inn Orio-ya, finally ended through her cooking the hardships of, and cleared the curse of the Southern Lands. Returning home victoriously, what awaits this lady are her friends in Tenjin-ya, the warmth, and the everyday busy-ness! While thinking of new souvenir products and preparing and pushing for the Autumn Festival, she reopens her Japanese Restaurant "Yugao". That time, she was invited by Odanna-sama to a fruit orchard date. Surely him always inviting her out never changed, as time after the Orio-ya incident passes her by, is she realizing that she's starting to think that she wants to know more about Odanna-sama...?

From the inside front jacket: Yuuma Midori (Author)A citizen from Fukuoka. Her debut publication published by Alpha Police: Marrying my wife is a dangerous circumstance with a giant demonic beast. Changing her pen-name after that, she published Kakuriyo no Yadomeshi, I married into an Ayakashi Inn. Currently Fujimi Bun-ko's big hit, and is now an illustrated series released by B-s LOG COMICS.

Character introduction page Tenjin-ya: An old-established place in North-eastern Kakuriyo, where Ayakashi dwell. Under the Ogre-god's (Onigami) leadership, many visiting Ayakashi helped it flourish, although sometimes humans make visits too. Odanna-sama: Master of Kakuriyo's Tenjin-ya, an Onigami respected by many Ayakashi. Even though Aoi should be wedded to him, his true intentions are currently unknown, as he watches the lady's speech and behavior. Tsubaki Aoi: College student who was whisked away against her own will in order to pay for her grandfather's debt in Tenjin-ya. Refusing Odanna-sama's marriage proposal, with her talents in cooking she manages her own Japanese restaurant, Yugao.

T/N: The volume title is a pun, it can go like "a new hire gets into an ayakashi inn" or "newly-harvested rice enters the ayakashi inn". No complaints though, but I won't spoil anything lol

Kakuriyo no Yadomeshi Volume 6, Chapter 1: Autumn's Newly-harvested Rice's** Accompaniment P5 "Aoi-san! We're already at our limit!" "Gah, so far, today...." That was in the last days of September in Yugao. I, Tsubaki Aoi, scrunching my face in vexation, took a peep in the refrigerator with hardly any ingredients left. Confronting and attacking the food rations altogether, it seems that they're now all gone. I wonder if in today's opening, will the incoming guests ever cease?

Lately, Yugao's business has been spectacular all over, it has been a very, very busy time. On days when there are so many customers, when the ingredients are all used up midway, the restaurant has to close shop early, and while we're preparing so many ingredients before reopening again, on those days that we have to regulate incoming customers, not many come in and the restaurant becomes bare of people, controlling the number of incoming guests is difficult. I wonder what I'll do if it's just me doing everything inside the restaurant, and I feel like I'm already at my limit... "That matter at Orio-ya, the thing about the ceremony and all the different things have been dramatized and turned upside-down in so many ways, it has become Kakuriyo's hot topic. Aoi-san has become something that livened-up the world, and Ayakashi have been interested and drawn to you, haven't they? Even Yugao has become famous..."

T/N: It's frustrating to translate the term for newly-harvested rice. Coming from a rice-eating culture like Japan and the rest of Asia, it's easy to categorize all stages of rice because there are words that exist for that. Like they say, languages are shaped by the needs of the users. Unfortunately, English has none of those so yeah, from here on end I'll be using the term newly-harvested rice here because to be honest, it tastes a lot better than rice stocked for a long time. That one tastes dry and bland even when cooked, while newly-harvested rice smells fragrant, has a soft texture, and just doesn't taste moldy lol

P6 While on a short break from cleaning up and arranging the place after business hours, Ginji-san and I were eating dried persimmons given to us by a customer as we sat on the counters while sipping tea. "Ginji-san, you were keenly saying that, but I wasn't intending on making a ruckus in Kakuriyo." "Yes, I understand. Ayakashi have been noticing, in their own ways... Thanks to Yugao, our business is booming!" Ginji-san's tired face turned and changed into a very happy one, meanwhile I was getting anxious. As someone who is burdened with a debt I am happy that the restaurant is flourishing, even though the place is getting better overall, there are many hindrances coming out with regards to cooking, and in spite of our efforts, I still feel bad for the customers that come in. Ah, but unrelated to that, this dried persimmon tastes really good. It's center is soft and moist, and sweet, yet a faint aftertaste of the puckery seed still remains, but I love that taste. Even if the people that I hated then are that much, a lot of Grandpa's treasured food makes me yearn for the good old days. "Very soon, Yugao will need to hire new employees, don't you think so?" "New employees? Really? Well, if it's just Ginji-san and I, it's already impossible..." I agreed with Ginji-san's suggestion. Ever since we opened, the two of us had been giving our all. To put it in words, we need someone other than Ginji-san to be designated with a job post. All the more that I think Yugao needs a new staff. "Since it seems that Aoi-san is concentrating on making the dishes, you might want the new staff to bear the task of receiving guests. P7 Would you like to try putting up a "Now Hiring" sign in Tenjin-ya's announcement board?" "I wonder who would come to apply?" What kind of brand-new staff will we hire? "Aoi-sama, you're cruel!" Instantly, from the pendant that contains ogre-fire, popped out Ai-chan. She looks like me, but her cheeks were swelling with annoyance. "Why, you call me your family, and at the same time hire me as your employee! If that's the case, tell me what to do!" "Well now, Ai-chan is very eager to work?" "You haven't spoken to me in a very long time..." Is that so? I tried to recall. When I called Ai-chan out to learn about the basics of cooking, that time she went out and played with Chibi. I think Ai-chan is still an Ayakashi child, and she still haven't got the idea on what it means to be an employee. "But Ai-chan, if you feel sleepy, you can't return to the pendant. Also, on top of that, it would be weird when there's two of us working here at Yugao..." Ginji-san looked at Ai-chan and I. P8 I wonder what he thinks of us having similar faces. "Oh, that, uhm... Aoi-san is most concerned about Ai-chan, and it is that you would want to work, but I think it's surely awkward when there is someone that looks like Aoi-san, won't it?" "Wh.. Why is that...? Young master-sama, I want to work too..." Ai-chan begged earnestly to Ginji-san with her teary eyes. My face tells it all, and Ginji-san also sees that it can turn into a crazy situation, and we stuttered. "Uhm, that's... That is..." Her eyes started swimming in tears. "But we could cause confusion with the customers. They'll think Ai-chan is me, and I am Ai-chan..." "I'm definitely sure that can happen... This is not related to Yugao's business operations, but it's possible that I can swap places with a family who looks like me, but really you are a precious being. With that, won't it be better to hide?" "Really?" "Yes... If my look-alike and I were both working in here, we may have a trump card,but evil people may take advantage of that too. Because of that, Ai-chan who can do things must hide in her favorite place..." Ginji-san glimpsed at teary-eyed Ai-chan who was biting her lower lip like a child and scratching her forehead. P9 "In order for Ai-chan to work in this restaurant, there are two conditions, OK? One, when you're in duty, you can't go to sleep. The other is that you have to change your appearance into someone else's." "Someone else's appearance..." Ai-chan and I huddled and titled our heads. The thing about not sleeping is reasonable and understandable. "About that, how do I change into someone else?" "I'm sorry. That's something that you must learn on your own. Be original, OK?" "O..ri...gi..nal..?" It seems that Ai-chan doesn't understand what that means. "Well, let's see. Let's use Tokihiko-san from Orio-ya as an example.** In the beginning, that person was just made up of many little Youkai flames**, but right now he can't change into anything else, he can only change into the shape he already has. If you change your appearance into someone else, if you change it to look like me, that's a whole different level, but Ai-chan is still a child, I wonder if she can understand?" But Ai-chan yells "I'll do it!" and raises her hand in proclamation. "I'll do my best in making my own appearance!" "Wooooowwww..." Ginji-san and I lightly clapped our hands for Ai-chan who was in high spirits.

T/N: In Volume 3, where Shizuna and Tokihiko meet again, like the episodes before the Orio-ya arc, it was briefly explained that ayakashi are formed from objects, when the consciousness enters the objects and make them sentient. I’ll probably translate that once I finished volumes 6-10, or maybe not. P10 "But because it's sleepy-time, I'll go back to the pendant!" "Whaaat." She immediately returned into ogre-fire, and Ai-chan hid back into the pendant in my bosom. The pendant's flickering light makes it seem like Ai-chan was sleeping and snoozing peacefully inside. "She seems serious, about the whole 'What appearance should I make' thing." "As soon as she wanted to slep, she already entered a new period of growth. In just a short time, I think she's already like an Ayakashi that stays awake late at night... It's because Ayakashi by nature don't sleep that much." "It's not like that, it's just that employes and everyone else just have short sleeping schedules. It's toxic**, it's something I thought of, but it's not really like that..." "No, it's not something like that. It's because Tenjin-ya also considerably receives nice wholesome** citizens of Kakuriyo. And that is why it's always very busy." "What, wait, doesn't that make it mixed**?" Well, whatever, I only sleep 10 minutes everyday, and even though it's a rest day tomorrow, it's not a problem for me. And for sure, when that busy day comes, I'd be very happy to receive Ai-chan's help. Whatever that child's appearance would make, I'll be looking forward to it.

T/N: the original words used were BLACK, WHITE, and GRAY. Black is considered to be the dark side of things aka toxic workplaces, White is the usual nice and wholesome facade, and the Gray was just inserted to complete the pun because in color theory thingy, BLACK+WHITE=GRAY. But that's just me lol You have been warned that this light novel uses a lot of puns P11 "Aoi--- Fooooood---" "Oh, that person's here." That person, is that Yuki-onna. Always, after Yugao's business hours, it's always the same, she always comes, the former Young Mistress but is now the waitress O-ryo. "Now's not a good time, O-ryo. There's none already." "Waaait, again? No rice? Even the rice is gone too?" "Even if I cook the rice, that's just it. Tomorrow is Yugao's rest day, and there aren't any excess ingredients here." "Then as long as there's rice that can be cooked, it's fine. I really love rice. Newly-harvested rice** is the most delicious, isn't it?" If that's the case, then there's nothing else to eat here, Ginji-san and I whispered to each other. But O-ryo just invited herself in the counters, and I had no choice but to stand up and start preparing to cook the rice. Just as O-ryo said, it's already the season of delicious rice. Especially in the land of Ogre's Gate, the rice brand "Onihonoka" is a famous specialty and souvenir, harvested either in the last days of August to the first days of September, polished immediately after harvest and is now back in the market. P12 But, if we use newly-harvested rice here in Yugao, it's distinct grains that contain a lot of moisture can really rake in the positive points. When cooking rice it is common that the little water added will decrease as it cooks, and it tastes all the more better. I wonder if O-ryo can wait for 30 minutes as the rice gets soaked.** "Wait, O-ryo sama!" The next one who came in was that horse chestnut girl, with her signature Tanuki ears and the round, fluffy tail. It was Tenjin-ya's lower-ranking waitress, Kasuga. "We thought we lost the bottle opener at the banquet hall. O-ryo sama, when your duties ended you immediately went to Yugao, and our new-hired waiters and waitresses had to search here and there. I was about to do some deliveries but I had to take charge of our newbies." "Oh, really? Kasuga, why didn't you just remember to let your juniors do it?" "But it's O-ryo sama's fault. All of the juniors and everyone has been doing their best here." "Oh, fine, there, there. Kasuga, you're also giving it your all, OK?" Whether it's because she's tired or she just deemed the answer was acceptable and ran away with it, Kasuga just allowed O-ryo to roughly pat her head. And when the bottle opener that had a bell made out of ice was produced, Kasuga immediately stuck it inside her obi. When the bell chimed, a clear tinkling sound echoed. "Isn't that ice bell lovely?"

T/N: Hot tip, if you're cooking rice, not the instant kind, if you want a less fussy method just soak it for at least 30 minutes before boiling it, it makes it cook faster, especially when the rice is long-grain, brown or colored rice, or the dry grained ones that are better for fried rice because the grains don't stick together. P13 "Yes. I won't give it to you, Kasuga." "I don't have a need for it, and for that reason it's not an important conversation." Kasuga sighed with a dumbfounded expression. In this situation I don't know who's the senior and who's the underling. "Oh, by the way, Young Master-sama, Odanna-sama calls for you." "Wah, is that so, Kasuga-san? Oh, it's probably the matter about the Autumn Festival. Aoi-san, I have to go to the main building for a bit, ok?" "Yes, thank you for your hard work, Ginji-san." Ginji-san's head bobbed as he bowed, and with a quick pace left Yugao. "Kasuga, even today you were asked to do a lot of things here and there, weren't you?" "Yeah, that's true. Everyone was telling me to go here and run over there. Oh well, I'll get used to it somehow." Kasuga meekly and quietly sat beside were O-ryo was sitting. Did this girl also went here to eat some newly-harvested rice? "Aoi--- Is it done? I'm hungry-- Isn't Kakuriyo's pot cooking fast enough?" "Whaaat. Please wait a bit more, O-ryo. Because it's newly-harvested rice, I only had it soaked for a bit." "Ehhh... That's already fine. Whether it gets cooked or not, because I'm hungry." P14 I wanted to choose the best way to cook the newly-harvested rice, so I could relish its delicious taste, but I wonder if I just lost to O-ryo's explanation just like this while the rice was cooking. She seems to be already at the limit of her patience, and she started to violently beat the counters. "Aoi--- Aoi--- Rice! Let me eat rice!" "Hold it there, big woman baby! Stop beating the counters, or else it will fall apart." My table.. Really, O-ryo can really be so selfish... "Yo, is there any grub to eat?" Akatsuki, like the usual routine, came here. O-ryo, Kasuga, and Akatsuki, repeatedly always come here, and were becoming "Give me food, give me food" Ayakashi. "I'm sorry Akatsuki, today there's nothing left. O-ryo said she's fine with just white rice, and that's what I'm cooking right now." "I'm also fine with just rice. Do you have any pickles?" Akatsuki sat beside the counter where Kasuga was, where two people were already sitting at. It has always been like this. "Wherever rice is offered as if for the gods, there's always a line on the counters. One way or another, Ayakashi love rice, don't they?" Finally, the rice on the stove has cooked. Kakuriyo's pots only need five minutes to cook rice, and it's really very convenient. P15 "Akatsuki, you haven't used up your salary and vacation leaves this year, haven't you? You don't have a girlfriend, and you give me the impression that working is your hobby. You're that kind of guy, aren't you?" While doing nothing on an empty stomach, O-ryo started bickering with Akatsuki, who was beyond Kasuga's seat. Even thought it's not nice, O-ryo toys Akatsuki a lot, who was younger than her. Akatsuki's face spells like "Shut up, you're noisy" whenever he's tired after work. "It's better to think about frolicking and having fun, Akatsuki. It's a waste, no matter how much you work, being a guy who looks angry and has no excess time to have some time to have fun." "Stop talking to me already, O-ryo." "Whaaat. How conceited. I'm the senior and you're the junior. I'm older than you and you're younger than me." "And so? You dropped being in the management staff and now you're a waitress. Between being a head clerk and a waitress, I'm higher-ranked." "Arrrghh, this guy is so UN-ADORABLE!" "O-ryo sama, you're noisy!" O-ryo's shrill voice spreads out, and Akatsuki and Kasuga both covered their ears. I opened Yugao's kitchen's refrigerator as I pinched my small ears shut. There wasn't any ingredients left to make side dishes, so I just took the rice out and served it. As I was doing this, I was laughing by myself. Hee hee hee.. "I could hear Aoi-chan letting out a weird laugh." P16 "What meals are she thinking of, at this point?" "Aoi is indeed an Ayakashi that cooks and cooks, isn't she?" Until now, O-ryo, Kasuga and Akatsuki were all whispering and back-biting me. But that's what I felt. After waiting, the newly-harvest rice that we have been waiting for has been cooked. After the boiled rice was done, I opened the lid and a foggy yet aromatic steam was released, and my stomach started to grumble on its own. As I stirred the freshly-cooked rice, I divided it and placed some on the rice tub. Using a wooden rice paddle I tried checking its texture and taste, it was springy, and its sweetness was enjoyable. "OK, there's a lot of rice, so please just eat however you like." In the restaurant's table where the rice tub was placed, in Akatsuki and Kasuga's usual rice bowls, and in O-ryo's favorite and sometimes variable larger bowl, I served them the white rice. I piled a lot of it. Each grain was puffy and glossy, which is due to the rice's freshness. "Yay! Let's eat!" O-ryo speedily and hungrily ate the rice, as she was holding her bowl and chopsticks. Hmph, O-ryo just quieted down right now. "Kasuga, Akatsuki, aren't you two hungry too? Start eating up." P17 "Ehhhrm.... It's hard to eat like O-ryo with just the white rice..." "Aren't there any pickled food, Aoi-chan?" "Tsk, tsk, how about if I place this here?" I placed a jar in between Kasuga and Akatsuki's counters. At first, they just stared at it in bewilderment, but carefully examined the jar's contents. Kasuga seemed to immediately get what it was. "Oh, I know it! It's nametake, enoki mushrooms!" "Yes, I made it from all of the mushrooms collected this Autumn, and I placed a lot of it. I goes great with white rice. I added it to our Autumn's daily specials." As soon as I opened the jar's lid, and scooped the nametake with a wooden spoon, I placed a lot on top of their rice in the two rice bowls. The brown mushrooms were flowing and melting and moist due to being boiled down. Enoki, shimeji, shiitake, these were all seasoned with the mild soy sauce that Ayakashi love. Sugar, mirin, sake and other seasonings were also added as staples, and in my case, there's also a bit of vinegar and some spicy peppers. These were added to give a hint of spiciness and sourness to the mild flavor. To make excellent preserved food, cold tofu, boiled down greens using dashi stock and others can be added and turned into one dish. While the nametake is mixed in with the piping hot rice, Kasuga and Akatsuki heartily wolfed down their food. "Wow... This meal is filling in my empty stomach.." P18 "This is delicious!" The enoki makes a crispy and appetizing sound. O-ryo, who was growing tired of the white rice, and seems to have noticed the nametake that Kasuga and Akatsuki were eating, started staring at it with longing eyes. "O-ryo, if you want to eat some nametake, please have some too." What the.. I have barely finished talking and O-ryo already stole the nametake jar. "Wah, it's my rice's buddy!" "O-ryo sama, it's greedy of you to take it for yourself!" "Kasuga, Akatsuki, don't worry, there are other partners for your rice." The poor things, but because there were other food that pair up well with rice, I brought them out. Toppings such as pickled plums, ground meat mixed with miso and lotus root, daikon pickled in vinegar with kelp, I brought out various preserved dishes too. Because rice goes well with many daily staples, many others were served on the side. "I am pushing this powerful medicine. I stir-fried some Hijiki seaweed that still has its water, along with the gritty and crisp pickled plum with some dashi stock. It really goes well with rice." Deprived of the nametake, Akatsuki tried adding the plum and seaweed mix as a rice topping. The crunchy texture and sourness of the plum, and the strong umami taste of the seaweed was incorporated, and this was a very luxurious and delightful taste. It doesn't need any other side dish, this makes it a full and satisfying topping. P19 When making onigiri, it can be added to the rice. It's excellent for emergencies. After experimenting with both the kelp and vinegar-pickled daikon as well as the meat mixed with miso and lotus root, O-ryo started eyeing at everything again, and I placed some little by little in the saucer that she was using. It' s great that she gets to enjoy a wide variety to pair up with her rice. It's exciting to think like what could be the next one you'll taste, with each bite. Once in a while, it's nice to just enjoy and relish the taste of the newly-harvested rice. After a while, I decided to eat some rice, and went back to the kitchen to get the rice bowl I normally use. "Ah, I just remembered something!" That's it. There were still two slices left in the refrigerator for the staff's breakfast. Autumn salmon. If I defrost that, I can make another rice pair-up! "Hee hee hee. A staple rice accompaniment: salmon flakes!"** I defrosted the salmon slice on the dish with Yokai fire, flayed the skin off, and lightly seared the surface on a frying pan, added salt, dashi, mirin, sake and other seasonings then heated this on a low flame. Sauteing this with a wooden spatula while adding some water to soften it, it's all what I need to do. Hee hee hee... "That Aoi-chan is laughing in the kitchen again..." "It smells like fish being cooked..." "Hold up, Aoi! Why are you cooking fish just for yourself? My nose isn't deceiving me!" T/N: I actually do this with meat, tofu, fish or whatever I add to vegetable dishes to make them more tasty. In Japan, they call this ground meat, fish or tofu that is seasoned and sauted as "Flake". You can just prepare a large batch, and use them as needed. I guess all those hours watching Tokuson Life Hacks also helped a lot lol P20 "Don't worry Kasuga, Akatsuki, O-ryo. Everyone's going to eat what I'm making." That said, it's my last serving. Reduce the water, when the flesh has fallen apart, add white sesame seeds and sesame oil, and lightly saute it. It's really easy. The home-made salmon flake is done. "It 's done! It's done! From kids to adults, everyone will love it, the best to be paired with rice, salmon flakes! Loose salmon topping, is it easy to understand?" "Ohhh..." "That smells really good!" As soon as I brought this in front of them, O-ryo and Akatsuki's voices just sounded with admiration. Since their bowls were already devoid of rice, they both wanted to fill their bowls with another serving. But they started fighting on who should be going to get more rice to add in the rice tub, and Kasuga went up and took the rice tub on her own to refill it. She's really the most adult in this bunch. "Ahhh, I can finally eat some rice too!" Thereafter, I placed some hot, piping rice on my bowl and I could finally eat my supper. For the first time, we're going to partake the crumbly salmon flakes that I made. I can use that for onigiri, and it's going to be a favorite item in bento boxes. P21 We can do the bottling, the marketing, and the selling, as our products are really delicious, but it seems that I'll have to make it and do it all by myself. Slicing, adding water, seasoning.. I'll do it how I like it. The glossy and clean rice due to it being freshly-harvested, when you add the shiny and reddish-brown color of the salmon flakes, eating it with a spoon just makes you gobble it all up. Ah, the autumn's salmon is really tasty and fatty. When mixed and used as rice topping, in one bite the umami and saltiness goes well with the mild, sweetness of the rice. Adding the white sesame and sesame oil's fragrances, the salmon's taste, flavor and aroma improves. "Wah, this tastes so delicious, I wanna have a bowlful more.." "O-ryo sama, if you eat more than that, you'll get fat. But I want a bowlful more too..." "I knew it, it's the autumn salmon. It really pairs well with the rice." It looks like everyone got satisfied with the salmon flakes. Oh no, this is bad. We have quickly eaten the rice... We took in so much carbs..." Even the meat mixed with miso and lotus root, the miso-flavored meat and the crunchy texture of the lotus root, really, really goes well with rice too. When you want to cleanse the palate, munching on the vinegar and kelp-pickled daikon is a fitting and refreshing break. "Aoi-dono!" Sasuke-kun, the O-niwaban guard has come here to Yugao. P22 Sasuke-kun was holding a bamboo straining basket, in his usual ninja-style. And, well, inside that basket were fresh red eggs. "These are the cassowary eggs that I have gathered tonight. The Master and Young Master sent me here to deliver these to you with my life, as it is a pity that there is only white rice to eat. You can now make egg-topped rice**." I bumped into him while running. That was the ultimate, crowning, and appropriate pairing to the rice. This is awesome! TKG has arrived here!** "Wah, I'll eat another bowlful more---" "Hey, that's unfair of you, O-ryo. Me too!" "Me too. It's because eggs are also served now." In the middle of the night, the Ayakashi were eating white rice in reckless abandon. "Please, I would like to fill my stomach with a bowlful of rice." "Yes, Sasuke-kun, please come have some." Anyone can't hide their excitement with egg-topped rice. Hollowing top of the hot, piping rice, when the shell is cracked open, the lovely raw egg is dropped in here. The cassowary's rich egg yolk's color, its shine, its jelly-like appearance, when it covers the rice, it has an irresistable charm. T/N: If you're going to try this, just a reminder that bacteria like Salmonella can contaminate the egg. Only do this with super-fresh eggs from a seller you trust because getting sick isn't worth it. TKG is basically tamago-kake-gohan, or how I wrote it here, egg-topped rice. P23 Ah, just looking at it, I know it's definitely delicious. "For sure, with egg-topped rice, it's Kakuriyo's mild soy sauce, isn't it?" I wanted a simple approach. "Soy sauce is good, but adding a little sesame oil is also delicious." As expected of O-ryo, who is in the majority group. "As a minority, I like mine to have noodle soup base and wasabi." From my peripheral vision I could see Akatsuki grumbling. But that seems to be delicious too. "I always eat it with ponzu. If there's dried bonito flakes and fried onions I'll add those too." For some reason, this was expected of Kasuga. "If there are seasonings, I'll add them." Sasuke-kun is too gallant. "Ok, ok, you can eat your differing favorites, that's good." Everyone's demands were heard, and I took various seasonings and flavorings and placed these at the center of the table. I, nonetheless the simpleton just added a bit of soy sauce over the yolk, and lightly broke it, mixing it with my chopsticks. In that moment, I felt a wonderful, happy feeling. Probably, just adding the egg, I haven't even finished mixing the runny egg in, I already took a bite. "Wahhh, taking the first bite of egg-topped rice is really something, isn't it?" P24 The rich flavor of the egg yolk makes it the best and enjoyable. After relishing the first bite, I completely mixed everything, and ate some more. "Hey, everyone, the meat with miso and lotus root also goes well with the egg-topped rice." Everyone noticed the previously-ignored meat with miso after Kasuga's discovery. Wah, it really does taste well together. This is a great discovery! Egg-topped rice is awesome! Just by itself is delicious, but arranging and adding flavors for variation, it's going to be an awesome feast. "It looks like you are all having fun." "Oh, Odanna-sama." Odanna-sama and Ginji-san came to Yugao together. O-ryo and Kasuga, Akatsuki and Sasuke-kun, who were all until now eating like as if in a stupor, all suddenly stopped and stood up, and deeply bowed to Odanna-sama. "It's alright, continue eating. Those are rare eggs." As if waiting for those words, everyone sat down again and continued eating. "Well, what's up? It's been a long time since you came here. Did both of you came here for some egg-topped rice? If that's the case, we have a lot right now." "No, it's not that, a while ago we welcomed some guests and we sat for a bit and already had our meals." P25 "I also may have drank a bit too much... That liquor was a tad strong.. Uhm.. I will eat some later, ok?" Both Ginji-san and Odanna-sama were definitely tipsy, somewhat. If they received some guests during work, why were they suddenly here? While in the middle of his rapid and nonchalant talking, is he going to suggest something? "Aoi, isn't Yugao on a break tomorrow? If you're free, let's go out on a date." "What?" In an instant. I realized that everyone who was continuing their eating all stopped their chopsticks. The Odanna-sama in question, who was really in a giddy mood continued smiling. "Aoi hasn't had a rest and had always been working hard even after returning from the Orio-ya matter. And I apologize for not taking the time too, for a long while. As a new wife, Aoi has not experienced any hour of fun at all." "It's fine, I have fun every day..." "That's it! Let's go to an orchard park. We can prepare food with apples and grapes, how's that?" While my face holds desperation, somehow Odanna-sama firmly grips my shoulder. "How's that" he says. "Apples and grapes, huh..." Pointing my finger to my chin, an idea popped into my head. For sure, there will be delicious autumn fruits. P26 "OK, let's go, Odanna-sama. I am interested in the orchard park." "I'm happy to hear you say that, Aoi!" With a sigh of relief, Odanna-sama wiped the sweat on his brow. The crowd of egg-topping eaters behind me, once again started moving their chopsticks. "Aoi-san, the orchard park is inside a mountain that connects the northern and north-eastern lands. The autumn leaves in that mountain change early, and I already heard that they're already in full display, so I hope that you can also enjoy the scenery tomorrow." "Ginji-san, you're not coming too?" "Me? I, uhm..." "You also haven't taken a break since the matter with Orio-ya, you should really take a break. Won't you come with us tomorrow?" Odanna-sama invited him, but Ginji-san looked at both Odanna-sama and I, and with a small smile shook his head. "No, thank you. I think I will take care of Tenjin-ya in Odanna-sama and Aoi-san's absence." I think it's the usual Ginji-san answer, but in that time, he wasn't looking at me.

End of Chapter 1, Volume 6. Next - Chapter 2

References:

Wonderful site for the youkai references

Other stuff I used to do this: Kodansha Kanji Learner’s Dictionary (you can buy here, I’m not sponsored btw). I was about to buy the older edition but then the newer one came out 2013 so I bought that instead. Worth buying since I was able to find nearly all of the words I needed just by stroke pattern alone.

Merriam-Webster's Japanese-English Dictionary (the red-covered 1996 version is apparently out of print right now). This is what I have been using for a very long time, I bought it when I was still a fetus (yes I am old so what lol), and after so many years, when compared to newer editions, I still prefer this one since its entirety is Japanese-English, the English to Japanese gloss are just 16 pages tops, so you get more Japanese words for your buck. But that’s just my opinion, maybe other people prefer the Jap-En x En-Jap IDEK.

Basic online dictionary, Jisho. Knowledge of verb conjugations and other words are necessary since not all have entries.

If you can read Japanese, you can buy the whole set in Amazon Japan, they’re shipping worldwide now, I think.

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