Day 22 Prompt: Morning after with Bucky, this wasn't supposed to happen
Day 23 prompt: Seven minutes in heaven, but you and Hange are just going to wait it out
Day 24 prompt: You find out Hawks is working for the enemy
(A/N: Day 23 folks! This request was from soullesscreatures on Ao3 and we love them for it. Also this is a Modern AU because I said so haha. Tysm lovely and enjoy! Follow along for day 24! )
Oneshot Event List
WARNINGS: none, just fluff!
What's Playing: "It's Nice To Have A Friend" ~Taylor Swift
Hange had been the one to drag you to this party, she wanted to actually have some fun before you guys graduate college. Both of you had been so focused on your studies that the idea of goofing off and not taking the time you had at night serious was a foreign concept. Despite their rather erratic personality, Hange was always the type to focus on her studies, science the one true passion that got their full attention.
For years, you'd been friends. High school bullies had never stood a chance with Hange around. She prided herself in being the weird one, her morbid fascination with the macabre left those who got off on making others feel weak speechless and frankly afraid. Taking you under their wing Hange protected you from anyone who dared call you a "loser" or made you feel less than.
It was only natural you developed a crush on her. Who wouldn't? When you have someone that kind and unapologetically themselves you're naturally drawn to their light.
You never told them, not wanting to ruin the sacred friendship that you'd made. It was precious to you, and you wouldn't do anything to destroy it. The idea of abandoning the comforting familiarity you'd built with her all to go to a tense awkwardness. It was damage your friendship beyond repair, and you couldn't lose Hange. You'd keep them at a distance if it meant you could still have them by your side at all. It pained you every time she went off on a date or a casual fling, you envied that they were so comfortable with who they were, meanwhile you didn't even have the guts to tell your high school crush how you felt. At this point, you felt you deserved to be on the sidelines. To be a background character to her story.
And yet you'd agreed to this stupid game.
When Hange told you they were playing seven minutes in heaven you'd been hesitant to agree. The idea of watching Hange going off with another, while you could only sit and burn in your own feelings would be unbearable. But when she gave you that encouraging look, the one that pushed you out of your comfort zone and into doing new things, you couldn't help but follow them to the circle of your friends.
You don't really take much interest in the various rounds. Watching couples go off to the designated closet, everyone else either sitting awkwardly or cheering, only to come back and act like nothing had happened. It was all part of the game, the illusion of what did or didn't happen. They could have their fun, but Hange hadn't been picked yet, and that's all that mattered to you. Call it selfish, you'd never been one to control who Hange went out with but it was nice that they were here with you, instead of in a closet with someone else. You desperately hoped she'd never be chosen, that you could be granted this moment without your lack of courage being shoved in your face.
Your chest tightens as it's Hange's turn, the cursed bottle spinning before you on the floor. Every second it spun made you nauseous, unable to take this. As you were about to make an excuse to leave, the bottle lands on you and your heart stops. Out of all the outcomes, you hadn't expected this.
A few lewd remarks circle and encouraging pats on the back or shoulder are earned by both of you.
Hange extends a hand, offering to help you up and into the closet. You take it, praying that they wouldn't notice how your hands were sweating, terrified of what was about to come. You couldn't just play by the rules, it would ruin everything like you'd feared. Unless Hange was expecting it, in that case would all your silent fantasies and dreams come true? The whispers in the dark of the night of what you wanted most of all, coming to fruition.
The closet door shuts and you're left alone. Slats through the door provide little light in so you could just make out each others' face and silhouette. But you couldn't see her expression and you prayed she couldn't see yours.
"So..." You start, unsure of what to do or say to begin.
Hange slides down the wall, sitting on the floor. "We just wait it out."
That wasn't what you were expecting. But it was probably for the best. The last thing you wanted was to push them into something they were uncomfortable with.
"Right, probably a good idea." You join her on the floor.
Silence commands the small space, while Hange seemed totally at ease, you on the other hand were panicking within. The proximity, the comments you could just make out from beyond the closed door, it was torture. How could you endure this for seven whole minutes?
It was rare for them to be so solemn, it worried you.
"No? Why would you think that?"
"It's just. We're close, I know we are, but lately something's been different."
"How lately are you talking?"
"Since we got to college, you started acting different. Distant."
"Oh." You'd intentionally pushed yourself form her circle, not wanting to pressure them into feeling like they were obligated to spend time with you. They had their own life and you weren't entitled to it because you both were friends. "I didn't want to hold you back."
"Why do you think you could ever do that? You're my best friend, you don't pull me down. I'd be lost without you."
You try to not let those words get to you too much, it was nothing more than platonic. A friendly affection that you shared, and here you were, reading into it as always.
"Me too. But you're not required to spend time with me because you're my friend. You have your own life."
"I like spending time with you."
There's that tightness in your chest again. "I like spending time with you too."
"Then why have you been so weird around me? Like you can't talk to me. If there's something I've done, just tell me. You know you can tell me anything and we can work it out. We always work it out."
If only she knew. "It's nothing you've done. Space is healthy between friends sometimes, right?"
"Yeah, but not when it's like this. You're not giving space, you're avoiding me. And I just want to know why."
The bubbly ray of sunshine you knew was gone, replaced by a more solemn, even mournful Hange. One who seemed to be hanging on every word you said. But that was purely just your imagination.
"I'm fine Hange, honest."
"You're lying to me. We never lie to each other."
How wrong that was, you'd been lying to Hange for a long time. Pretending that your feelings didn't go deep than they did. But you couldn't tell them that.
"Can we just drop it?" You check your phone, the light illuminating the small space slightly. Only a minute and a half passed.
"No, we're not going to drop it until you tell me honestly what's going on with you."
"I just can't stand to see you going out with other people like that." You blurt it, and then flush as you realize how it sounds. You sound like a controlling prick who couldn't let Hange have their fun, or any semblance of freedom.
Hange tenses and slides a little away from you, the comment stinging.
You quickly backtrack. "No- wait-I'm sorry I didn't mean it like that. That came out wrong." You sigh. "I just meant, it's hard to watch you go out with other people."
"And why do you care? I'm not being reckless or dangerous."
"I care because I don't want you to go out with them!" You suddenly feel a surge of courage. It was out of the bag now, might as well get this over with. "I like you Hange, I have for years. So seeing you go out with other people. It sucks, I hate it. Because I wish it was me instead."
Before she can respond, there's a knock on the door. "Alright lovebirds, time's up."
You compose yourself as best you can, unable to take this anymore. You leave her there, starting to head for the door and ignoring the jeers and calls from the group.
Suddenly you feel a hand on your shoulder, dragging and pushing you against the wall. Hange pins you there, and you instantly flush at being so close.
"What the hell was that?"
"What? I told you how I feel."
"No! Telling me and then just leaving me there, not even letting me respond!"
"Look I'm sorry-"
"Sorry isn't going to cut it-" She doesn't let you finish, pressing her lips against yours.
Your mind goes blank with shock, but you melt into their embrace. But far too quickly it's over, leaving you to stare at each other once more.
"Come on, we're going back to the dorm." They say at last.
"Why?"
"Because, I've felt the same way for just as long, and now I finally get to do something about it."
Bakugou Katsuki and his penchant for seeing your in skirts.
It's starts off with just fleeting glances, every once in a while, his eyes would drift over to where you worked on the balcony garden, tending to plants littered everywhere.
Tracing your silhouette whenever your his behind the curtains, before going back to reading his book or at least pretending to, so he wouldn't get caught shamelessly oogling you.
Eventually it becomes evident, you feel goosebumps prickle on your skin every time you step into his line of sight, more than once catching his lingering gaze, you ignore first but it gets out of hand at one point.
"Do you want the flowers to wilt?" You stepped into the living room, dirt and soil smudged against the soft skin of your hands, you don't bother cleaning them, knowing you'll be back out sooner or later.
"What do you mean?" Bakugou laid the book flat on his chest, spine creasing from being worn with age, "I didn't even say anything."
You tilted your head, palms coming to rest on your hips, the dirt from your hand smearing on the light fabric of your skirt, "There are other ways to bother someone." Leaning forward slightly, you chimed.
"I am just reading my book in this corner." He shrugged his shoulders, eyes drifting lower with every words, mouth watering at the sight of your hand prints smudged on your skirt, "You are blaming an innocent man."
"Innocent?!" You asked incredulously, lips twitching slightly as you watched a boyish grin spread on his lips, eyes looking up at you like you hung stars in the sky. "You are anything but innocent."
Bakugou swiftly placed the book on the table, sitting up straight on the couch as he reached for your wrists, "What makes you come to that conclusion?" He pulls your hands closer, pressing kisses on the insides of your wrists.
"You've been eyeing me all afternoon." You closed your eyes, weakly tugging your wrists from his grasp, peering at him through your lashes when he refused to let you go.
"Can't I even admire my wife anymore?" He pulled you closer, one hand letting go of your wrist and patting against your thigh, pulling you into his lap.
"Katsuki—wait my hand are dirty." You still slid into the cradle of his lap, thighs on either side of his, skirt riding up, exposing your supple skin.
He ignored your protest, grasping whatever part of your body he could get his hands on and plopping you on his lap, peppering kisses along your jaw.
Sighing you pressed forward, lips meeting his messily, hands curled into fists and tucked against your chest.
"Be good." He mumbled against your mouth, thumbs pushing into your curled up fists, flattening your palms against his chest.
You weakly humped his length, lips barely touching as you got sighed against his mouth, low moans escaping every once in a while.
He shifted, one arm wrapping around your waist to left you up, pushing his pants down to his thighs, so you could directly sit on his length.
"Keep me warm?" Bakugou asked, lips pressing against your cheek, fiddling with the hem of your skirt, all soft and warm and perfect for an afternoon nap.
You nodded your head, gently rocking back and forth in his lap, underwear wet and sticking to your folds, you shuffled getting off his lap for a moment to pull it down your legs.
Once settled, you reach between your bodies, hand wrapped around his cock, feeling him throb against your palm, wet and sticky from his precum oozing out.
Aligning him with your entrance, you slowly sink lower, lips parted as shallow breaths escaped them, feeling warm and fuzzy as you settled in his lap, clit tingling in neglect as your walls tried to relax around him.
"Go slow." He murmured against the sweaty skin of your forehead, one hand grasping at the fabric of your skirt, holding it taut so he admire where you were connected.
He stays still, eyes locked in the way you shifted in his lap, knees bend completely, weight balanced on your palms against his shoulders.
He pulled you closer, letting you rest completely on him, eyes fluttering shut once you both settled.
Pairing: Jasper Hale x Reader
Summary: Jasper is a southern gentleman. He hates showing any sort of aggression around you, flashing teeth or using his strength. But you're human and you're fragile -- and not everyone acknowledges it. Some people (or wolves), he just has to correct.
Themes & Warnings: fluff, protective!Jasper, Eclipse era, slight violence, Jasper is such a sweetheart i love him <3
When you said you had the sweetest, most trusting husband in the world, it wasn't just a lie like other women told. You were serious. Jasper Hale was seriously the softest, cuddliest, most gentlemanly killing machine on earth.
Being the most protected woman in Washington or even in the world was a wonderful feeling. You never had any doubts in your husband, despite the horrible things you'd been through with him and his family. He treasured you, respected you, catered to all of your needs, and really was a perfect Southern gentleman, just like he'd told you he was the day you met him.
You'd just been married after being together for years. In fact, the plan was to turn you as soon as a solid window of time allowed. But, of course, danger and turbulence with Bella had disturbed your plans. You were still human and still fragile. You would've thought he was going to hover over you at all times, like Edward did Bella. But it was different. It helped that he could feel when you were scared or uncomfortable, but Jazz was comfortable at a distance, trusting you in your ability to identify a dangerous situation and be smart about needing help. And when you did need him, he eliminated the threat swiftly and effectively, reminding you and everyone else just how deadly he was.
The current threat was the newborn army. Most definitely organized by Victoria, it held a certain amount of weight, a palpable danger. Jasper had been tense lately -- he could feel the unease of everyone around him. And you, his human mate, were directly in danger, at risk of bloodthirsty newborns every time you were alone.
He'd recently decided that now, while things were so risky, you'd be by his side under constant protection. Knowing the threat and knowing Jasper's story, his experience with newborns, you didn't complain. You just followed your Major's orders.
Today, you were in the clearing, listening to your husband teach the family and the Pack about how to defense and offense. You couldn't lie, Jazz was dangerously hot like this.
Jasper Hale was never louder than necessary. He didn’t bark orders or boast about his skills. He simply moved and spoke with such controlled confidence that the entire clearing naturally stilled around him.
He stood at the center of the field, broad shoulders squared, golden eyes scanning everyone like a quiet commander taking stock. The tension in his jaw only made him look more dangerous. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, exposing pale, scar-marked skin that shimmered faintly in the weak light -- reminders that he'd lived through so much violence and survived.
His hair was windswept, messy from combat demos, strands falling over his forehead. Somehow, that only made him hotter.
When he moved, he was all precision: a blur of muscle and reflex, striking with the speed of someone who didn’t hesitate. He never wasted energy. Every movement was elegant, efficient.
There was something deeply attractive about the way he balanced that lethal force with his gentlemanly calm. He wasn’t showing off, he was teaching. Guiding. Protecting.
“Newborns don’t think. They react. You use that. Wait for them to lunge -- then redirect their momentum.”
“Don’t aim for the head first. You want the arms, the legs. Disable them. Then finish it.”
“Stay low, keep your center of gravity under control. Don’t rely on brute force if you don’t have to.”
“Speed isn't enough. You gotta predict. Anticipate. That’s how you outlast ‘em.”
“Rosalie, you’re telegraphing. I could see that from a mile off.”
(a soft smirk, drawing a glare from Rosalie)
“Don’t swing wide, Emmett. This isn’t a bar fight. That move would’ve gotten you killed a hundred years ago.”
He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t need to. That Southern drawl carried low and smooth, just loud enough to demand attention. You could tell he was holding back, like every part of him was wired to snap, but he was too controlled, too good, to let it show.
Watching Jasper fight was like watching a storm gather in the distance: quiet, beautiful, and inevitable.
Could be anyone. Wolf or vampire. They were quickly and strategically disarmed, usually with one move. It was like Jasper could tell exactly what they were going to do before they did it -- because likely, he could. He could feel whether they were cool headed, overconfident, agitated, restless. He was truly formidable. It was incredibly sexy to you.
Every once in a while, Jasper could feel your stares. He could feel your feelings of.. affection.. too. He tried to stay focused, his eyes locked onto whoever he was speaking to or whoever was swinging at him, but you could tell he knew. A crooked lift of his lip in a slight smirk would expose him.
Now, he stood facing off with Paul.
You'd never liked Paul. He was temperamental, cocky, arrogant and out of line any time you'd talked to him or been around him. But he was part of the pack and needed to be trained, so he was here.
Jasper could immediately feel your discomfort. His golden eyes met yours knowingly, reassuringly, in an attempt to soothe you. You felt yourself calm down considerably before you leaned back against the log, sighing.
He turned back. Paul was already snarling, fur prickling up in confidence and aggression. He hated vampires, whether they were fighting for the same cause or not. He wouldn't take it easy on Jasper, not that it mattered. Jasper never needed anyone to be careful, never needed to take it easily. He was almost sure that if Paul could, he'd go for the kill.
You swooned at Jazz. His face was still calm, staring down at the beast with anticipating eyes. Relaxed stance. He nodded, curving a hand to show Paul that it was time.
“Give it your best.” He said, one final statement, before Paul growled.
Paul lunged, massive wolf body coiled with muscle and teeth.
Jasper shifted just enough to the side, one pale hand shooting out to catch Paul by the ruff of his neck. He used the wolf’s own momentum to slam him to the ground, pinning him with one knee between his shoulders.
His voice was low, unbothered:
“Far too predictable. A newborn would've snapped your neck,” he said. “You need to think it through before making an attempt. You have to be better than them -- more patient, more measured.”
Paul snarled and bucked under him, forcing Jasper to release him. The wolf twisted, hackles raised, and launched again with a furious roar.
Jasper didn’t flinch. He waited, eyes cool, then sidestepped at the last second, hand flashing out to catch Paul’s foreleg mid-swipe. With a sharp jerk and a twist of his hips, he threw the massive wolf onto his back, sending him sliding into the treeline.
Jasper leaned in slightly, voice calm but firm.
“Again. But try learning this time.”
With a furious roar, Paul gave it one more shot.
He jumped into the air, not taking Jasper's advice, not thinking, but heading for the southern man full force. With an audible and disappointed "tsk," Jazz landed another blow, a final push, intended for teaching. The blow made contact, once again sending Paul towards the trees. He barreled into them, knocking two over.
Jasper turned around to the group, using it as a teaching example.
“That's why you have to think. Control yourself,” he explained, gesturing towards the direction he'd flung Paul. “They're stronger than you and far more excited to fight. Even more excited to kill. You can't be sloppy.”
While Jasper was explaining, Paul got angrier and angrier.
He hated being beaten. Hated being embarrassed. Hated being talked back to. And hated vampires.
You sat across the clearing, watching him get up from the trees. His teeth dripped with spit, a permanent snarl etched onto his glaring face. His paws were heavy in the dirt.
And the direction he stalked? It wasn't towards Jasper.
It was towards you.
He was angry, embarrassed, and wanted to teach Jasper a lesson by terrifying you. Of course, by pack law, he wasn't allowed to touch you. But scaring a vampire's mate seemed to be equal punishment for the embarrassment.
Your eyes widened as you straightened off the log. Paul got closer and closer, drool dribbling off his teeth and lips, looking positively murderous. He was now within five feet of you, paws crossing the grass in enormous strides.
Jasper’s voice faltered for half a second as he felt the shift in you -- the jolt of fear, sharp and cold.
His golden eyes flicked immediately to you, then the aggressive, snarling wolf right in front of your face. Less than five feet now, pushing you back, making you cower against the wood log.
Jacob spoke from behind Jasper first.
“Paul! Stop!”
It was too late. The damage had already been done. Jasper was angry now.
Jasper didn’t explode.
He didn’t shout, didn’t bare his teeth or make a scene.
He simply went silent.
So silent that even the wind seemed to still in the trees.
And in that breathless, deathly quiet, he moved.
One blink and he was no longer in front of the pack or your family. He was between you and Paul, standing nose-to-snout with the enormous wolf, whose growling abruptly cut short at the sudden presence of something far, far more dangerous.
Jasper’s hand shot out, not to strike, but to press, flat and firm, against Paul’s fur covered shoulder, holding him back like he weighed nothing at all. His voice came low and dark, quieter than anyone had ever heard it.
“Foolish dog.”
Paul snarled, tried to shove forward -- instinct, fury, shame. He didn’t make it an inch.
With one hand still on Paul’s shoulder, Jasper’s other came up in a blur -- grabbing the wolf by the scruff of the neck and slamming him into the earth with a crack of force that shook the ground.
Gasps, footsteps, and whining from the pack echoed behind you.
Jasper didn't look at anyone else.
“I gave you every chance,” he said, voice thick with venom now, words curling with Southern fire. “I trained you. I warned you.”
He leaned into the wolf's snarling face again, letting him snap and growl at him, unfazed. His eyes were deadly, but his face was relatively relaxed.
“You won't make it on the field if this is how you present yourself,” he hummed, squeezing tighter onto Paul's body. “I cared at first. But now?”
Paul growled and twisted. Jasper slammed him down.
“I'm almost certain this world could use one less insolent mutt.”
The threat in his words wasn’t shouted. It was drawled, cold and certain, landing heavier than any yell could have. Paul let out a strangled, furious snarl, thrashing harder beneath Jasper’s unyielding grip. Dirt and grass tore up under his claws.
Jasper didn’t even blink. His golden eyes stayed locked on the wolf’s, steady and unflinching.
“You think you’re ready to fight newborns?” he asked, tone dipping almost to pity -- almost. His fingers tightened just enough to make Paul yelp. “You can’t even manage your temper.”
He waited for the next lunge. When Paul tried to twist again, Jasper slammed him down harder, making the ground quake.
“You’re sloppy. Predictable. And worst of all?” Jasper dropped his voice to a harsh whisper.
“You’re willing to threaten something of mine to save your own pride.”
Paul went still beneath him at that. Breathing hard. Growling, but with a tremor that wasn’t all rage.
Behind them, the clearing had gone silent. The pack frozen. Cullens unmoving. Even the wind felt like it held its breath.
Jasper’s lip curled faintly, not quite a smile.
“Consider this your only warning.”
He held Paul down one second longer, driving the point home. Then he stood smoothly, brushing the dirt from his hands like he hadn’t just manhandled a half-ton predator into submission.
“If you ever step foot near her again,” he drawled, Southern lilt dark as pitch, “I’ll put you down myself.”
He let that promise hang in the frozen air.
Then he turned, utterly calm, and walked back toward you without another glance at the wolf.
His cold hands met your skin immediately, gently nudging you into a standing position and smoothing your clothes out. He searched you silently for injuries -- you prayed he didn't find a single scratch. Even if Paul hadn't done it, he'd still pay the price for it.
Jasper’s touch was careful, almost reverent, as though he feared he might hurt you just by being too rough. His cold fingers brushed along your arms, checking for any sign of bruising. He smoothed your hair back from your face, golden eyes scanning you with laser focus.
“Hold still for me, darlin',” he murmured, voice lower now -- gentler, but still taut with restrained fury.
You swallowed hard, letting him fuss over you. His thumb grazed your jaw, tilting your face toward the light to check for any marks.
Nothing. Not a scratch.
He exhaled, slow and shaky despite the careful control on his face.
“Good,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.
His hands lingered at your waist, gripping you just enough to anchor himself. He didn’t look back at the pack, didn’t even acknowledge the others. For Jasper, in that moment, there was no one else but you.
As he felt you relax against him, Jasper’s hold softened even more. His thumbs brushed soothing circles at your waist, the cold of his skin forgotten in the warm hush between you.
“That’s it,” he murmured, southern lilt a low rumble only for your ears. “Easy now, sugar. I’ve got you.”
He dipped his head just low enough to press his lips gently to your forehead, leaving his lips there for a few seconds and letting his eyes flutter shut. Grounding himself. The tension bled out of him by slow degrees, like smothered coals on a fire being put out.
One of his hands drifted up to cup your cheek, wiping the startled tears from under your eyes.
“No more cryin’, sweet angel. He’s never gonna come near you again.”
Once you were sufficiently comforted, Jasper returned to the training session, but decided that he wasn’t going to do any demonstrations. For the rest of the day, you’d be by his side where he could focus on you.
However, Jasper was a practical and respectful man. A warning always came before he broke loose.
Jasper didn’t raise his voice or even turn fully away from you. He just lifted his head enough to look past you, eyes finding the pack’s leader with that glint of cold command still in them.
“Sam,” he called evenly.
Sam’s ears flicked forward in wolf form, body tense, watching every move. No one had much to say, just stared. Emmett and Edward watched cautiously, awaiting a fight to break out.
Jasper’s jaw flexed once before he spoke, his tone unyielding.
“You’ll be down a pup if you ever let one of yours so much as growl at her again,” he asserted, tone cutting through the air like a knife. “She’s human. If you’ve forgotten your rules, if you’ve forgotten the treaty, I can be your reminder.”
He didn’t wait for an answer. Didn’t need one.
His gaze lingered on Sam another beat, making sure the threat was received in full, before he lowered his eyes back to you, all that deadly fire softening in an instant.
Rekindling your heart and dating again hasn't always been an easy task for you -- but what happens when your coworker Clark Kent invites you over to dinner in this Choose Your Own Adventure?
Clark Kent x Reader
Choose Your Own Adventure
🔗 READ/PLAY HERE
🎮 interactive fanfic "Seeing Hearts" by @callahanisms
📖 Episode 1 of 1
okay but imagine edward not understanding the way you and your friends talk
“i know he was soooo!”
“do NOT get me started!”
edward is confused, why is no one finishing their sentences or thoughts. he thought you were all best friends, is there some telepathic connection?
“i knoww! oh and then did you see how she?”
“YES I SAW!”
edward was deep into everyone’s mind and realizing he was missing the facial expressions, and being in the moment when the group saw the couple argue. he stayed quiet the entire conversation, trying to keep up.
you would have to decipher the conversation either way.
Ik this isn’t part of the prompt but can u plz do a eclipse Jasper x human reader whenever she can feel her anxiety worsen or even a panic attack about to start Jasper uses his ability to calm her down (since he can manipulate emotions/moods) and he usually does it by talking to her and kissing her gently🥹😭
summary; jasper eases your anxiety and kisses away all your worries.
warnings; fem!reader, reader w anxiety, soft, soft!jasper, jasper uses his gift on reader but it’s sweet, pure fluff! no use of y/n
Jasper's rasping Southern lilt pulls you out of your haze; he can feel the rushing thrum of your pulse beneath your skin, the way you tense and burrow further into the comfort of the blanket that’s loosely draped over your shoulders. You're vacant, eyes glassy and unfocused despite the lively chatter of the Cullen house, the raucous booming of Emmett’s voice and Rosalie’s quiet scolding that follows as the rest of the family talk animatedly. This upcoming fight has everyone on edge and it’s evident in your stance, the way you curl up small on the couch and wring your fingers until they flush ruby.
"Hey, sugar," Jasper murmurs, a finger hooking over your cheek to draw your gaze to his own. It's a miracle he can stand to be so close to you now, almost desensitised to your scent, the warmth of your touch, the ravenous hunger that claws at his throat when you're close. Your eyes crinkle at the corners, carving lines into the soft skin when your eyes meet his.
"Hey, Jas."
His icy lips are on your cheek and you soak up his touch, resisting the urge to lean into it as you really want to, still cautious of overwhelming him. The sense of calm that washes over you feels artificial, the only indicator that the feeling isn’t quite your own, but rather the emotion that Jasper is weaving into your frazzled nerves as the anxiety untangles like yarn and dissipates. The crushing thunderstorm is reduced to small, sweeping waves that lap at the corners of your mind but no longer engulf it.
You accept the feeling regardless of its origin, your muscles uncoiling as Jasper strokes slow lines over your cheekbone. Your eyes track the swish of his blond tresses when his head dips further, the bridge of his nose pressed to your cheek, and one golden eye that watches you right back.
His mouth ventures to the corner of your lips and you feel the imprint of his smile as you giggle and your features scrunch with unbridled adoration. It’s a rare display of such emboldened affection from him and you’ll be damned if you don’t wring him for every ounce whilst he’s willing to offer it.
All background noise melts away when he catches your lips between his own. You gasp a sweet little noise into his mouth and he swallows it greedily; the feel of his cold fingers on your cheek brands you, leaving a lasting tingle that reminds you that you’re his and his only. He nips at your bottom lip, the ghost of a laugh echoing against your mouth when you whine and cant your body towards his, wanting, needing, to be close. His forehead stays anchored to your own when he draws himself away.
"You’re beautiful," he murmurs. "My beautiful girl."
The cadence of his voice alone is enough to have you going soft and pliant in his grasp, tired eyes watching his every move as he nudges your chin upwards and presses another gentle peck to your mouth.
"Everything’s gonna be jus’ fine, okay?" he coos, gathering you up and into his arms in a way that has you biting your lip to suppress a whimper. "And then we’ll have forever, my darlin’."
"You promise?" He almost laughs at your question, but he hears the warble in your voice, feels the tightening of your fingers against the sleeve of his shirt, and he knows you need the reassurance. Something white-hot lights in his chest, fondness and something deep and primal all mixed into one— the urge to protect you always, no matter the cost, even if the world burns to ashes. He’ll protect you always.
"I promise." He sits back until you’re tucked beneath his arm, pushing stray curls out of your face as you nestle into the crook of his armpit. "Why don’t you sleep for a little while? You need it."
Suddenly the ruckus of the Cullen house dulls in your ears, your only focus on the blond you’re tucked against, his fingers curling around the blanket to pull it flush to your frame. The last thing you register is his arms tightening around you as you doze, and an arm hiking you into his lap when you go limp against him.
Summary: Request - Can you write one where the reader does something major told her not to do and he gets mad when he finds out and then jasper tries to console her and she’s jus really guilty and upset and then the major comes back out and they talk it thru.
Word Count: 3558
Warning: Angsty maybe. Obviously some unhealthy anger stuff, but it ends well, I promise.
Note: I liked the idea of doing something with the wolves, but felt Jasper/the Major wouldn't ask you to stay away from people, especially if they were your friends. So I took a route regarding reader's safety, since he'd totally go feral over that.
---
Saying Forks was in the middle of a blizzard would be an under exaggeration.
You’d never seen snow like this. You could barely see past your front porch, it was coming down so hard. School had been canceled, of course, and Emmett had convinced the family it would be fun to try hunting with the added challenge of not being able to see.
Jasper had hesitated to join at first, to leave you alone in this storm since your parents were away, but it only took a little soft convincing from you for him to relent.
On one term, at least
“Please stay here ‘til we get back,” the blond repeats worriedly as he puts on a coat - that he doesn’t need, you might add
“It’s not that bad out, Jasper,” you chuckle, eyes glued out the window.
“Darlin.”
His voice shifts subtly. You blink, glancing back at him over your shoulder. Jasper stares right back at you, eyes narrowed, a familiar intensity burning behind them. Your body figures it out before you do, fine hairs standing on end, pupils dilating. A sharp contradiction to the smile that lights up your face.
“Yes, Major?” You ask, barely missing a beat.
The man takes a step towards you, hands clasped behind his back, shoulders straight. It’d be intimidating if you didn’t know better.
“You goin’ to listen for me?” He asks, voice low, accent thicker than before.
“Of course, Major.”
The barest flicker of a smile pulls at the vampire’s lips. Such a sweet thing. The way you look at him - all wide, puppy dog eyes, attentive and loving - it makes him feel raw with the need to protect you, even if it’s just from the blizzard.
Tender in a way he’s never been, the Major touches your chin, drawing close enough that he can feel your warm breath stutter against his lips as he murmurs, “Then be a good girl and stay put for me. I don’t want you out in this weather.”
You can’t help but soften, fondness curling in your chest. He really is just a soft teddy bear at his core.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” you insist, curling your arms around his waist, “I won’t go out, I promise.”
“Good.” The Major closes the small gap between you, lips pressing against yours in an unrelenting kiss. It’s all you can do to keep yourself upright as his hand curls along your jaw, drawing you closer, closer, until your head is spinning from the feeling. You’d think he’s going off to war again by the way he kisses you.
You can barely catch your breath when he pulls away. Heat blooms across your cheeks, and you bury your face in his chest to hide it, which earns a low chuckle from the blond. He presses another kiss to your temple, this one softer, gentler.
“Love you, darlin,” he murmurs, all honey and sweet and Jasper again.
You melt against him, voice muffled by his sweater, “Love you too, Jazz. Stay safe, please.”
“I won’t be long,” he reassures you, “Emmett will give in when he realizes all the animals are hidin’ from the weather.”
You huff a laugh. Perhaps. Emmett is stubborn, reckless, and stubbornly reckless. Once he has an idea in his mind, it’s hard to get him off it, like today. But you’re sure Jasper’s right. He’ll give up once he gets bored.
“I’ll hold you to that mister. I’ll be lonely without you.”
“Well, we can’t have that, now can we?” He leans down, catching your lips one final time. You can feel his grin through the kiss. “Just a couple hours, darlin’. I’ll drag him back if I have to after that.”
He’s still reluctant to leave, but the nagging worries are quieter now, enough that he can drag himself from the comfort of your touch to join his brothers outside. You watch them disappear into the haze of snow, like ghosts, before shuffling back to your kitchen to work on some homework.
It shouldn’t be so hard to stay busy until they get back. Right?
---
That’s what you thought, at least. But one hour quickly turns to two, which quickly turns to three and still no Jasper. By the fifth hour, you’ve finished all your work and find yourself staring into an empty fridge with a growling stomach.
Of course your parents would forget to stock up before going on a business trip.
Chewing the inside of your cheek, you glance outside. It’s still snowing, but not…as bad. You could probably make it to the grocery store and back without any problems. And you’d probably get back before they do, so Jasper wouldn’t even know.
Everything would be fine.
You layer up, tucking a scarf tightly around your neck. It might be a little lighter outside, but it’s still well below freezing. It’ll be quick, though. The grocer is maybe a five minute walk, and you only need a couple things.
Popping your hood up, you grab your house keys and venture out, shuffling the whole way there.
---
“Brave of you to venture out in this,” the cashier chimes, scanning your microwave meal and milk - you figure you might as well get stuff for breakfast too.
“Didn’t have much of a choice,” you hum shakily, teeth still chattering as you hand him some cash, “I’d rather be cold for a bit instead of going hungry.”
“Fair ‘nough!” The cash register dings and he hands you some change. “Stay safe out there, miss.”
“Thanks.” You cast him a smile, “You too. Hope it clears up a bit before you have to leave.”
“God willing.”
You slip your gloves back on and heave the bag of supplies from the counter.
On the walk back, you’re a little less careful, eyes wandering as you tread through the snow. The journey here hadn’t been so bad. Sure you’d almost slipped a few times, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought it’d be. It was actually almost nice, once your face went numb at least.
Your thoughts wander to the food in your hands, pace picking up a bit as you think about how nice a warm meal will be after this. And well earned after a long day of work and a hazardous journey to get it. Maybe you could cuddle up on the couch and turn on a movie while you eat. That sounds ni-
-and you’re falling.
You screech, boots slipping against the ice as the world tilts wildly. Instinctually, your eyes squeeze shut and you wait for the impact, hoping your layers might be enough to cushion the fall.
They are, thankfully. But they aren’t enough to stop your ankle from twisting as you tumble a bit off the sidewalk.
The pain is instant. It pulses up your leg, sharp and fiery compared to the cold seeping into your bones. You suck in a sharp breath, teeth gritting as you bury your face in the snow. It’s all you can do to keep yourself from crying, that stinging sensation starting in your eyes, a lump forming in your throat.
God, you’re so screwed.
—
“Darlin, I’m back,” Jasper calls out softly, brushing the ice from his hair as he slips into your warm house.
Almost instantly, he can tell something’s wrong. Jasper stops, brow furrowing. Usually you’d be bounding up to tackle him by now, a beautiful smile on your lips, asking how things went. It’s something constant, a custom he enjoys more than he’ll admit.
There’s no greeting this time, though. Even as he stills, focusing on the sounds of the house, he can’t hear a thing. No footsteps, no heartbeat. It’s eerily silent, empty.
You’re not here.
An uneasy feeling settles in his chest. Jasper speeds through the house, checking each room, hoping his ears are just tricking him. Maybe you’re just asleep or reading in some corner. With each empty room, though, the feeling worsens, gripping him by the throat, unrelenting and violent. He’s spiraling, he knows it, can tell he’s walking along an all too familiar edge, blurred between himself and-
The Major pauses at the door to your bedroom. Empty. Your coat isn’t where you usually leave it. Neither are your boots. It leaves little doubt in his mind where you’ve gone.
You didn’t listen to him.
The blond takes a slow breath, holding back the anger that washes over him, white hot and smoldering.
It’s rare for you to not listen to him. You know his none-too-gentle requests are for your safety, they always are. Because while Jasper would rather die a million times than see you hurt, the Major would bring the world to its knees if it meant keeping you safe. He’s never had something as good as you in his life and the need to protect that, to protect you, well - that drives him to his knees. And now you’re out in this storm. By yourself.
The door slams as he throws himself back out into the snow to find you.
---
The snow is picking up, you notice glumly as you carefully flip over in the snow. Even the slightest movement makes pain prickle up your leg, but you can’t lay face down in the snow much longer, not with how you’re quickly losing feeling in your nose.
You sniffle, swiping at your eyes to keep the tears away. What are you supposed to do now? It’s not like you can stay out here. Frostbite doesn’t exactly sound appealing, but neither does the idea of limping home with this pain. You could call…No, no, he’d be so mad. You can’t call Jasper.
Not that fate really cares about what you think.
You squeak when a pair of arms suddenly lifts you out of the snow. The only thing that keeps you from screaming is the familiar cold touch of your captor and the mess of blond hair flickering in the snowy breeze. The fear slowly disappears when you realize it’s just Jasper.
Quickly replaced by a tight, anxious feeling in your chest when you see the tense set of his jaw and how the lines in his neck stand out under his pale skin. He’s upset. He’s upset with you and your ankle is still throbbing and your eyes are stinging again and-
You inhale shakily, an apology ready to spill off your lips, but the look he gives you makes it all die on your tongue. His usually stoic expression turns dark, eyes narrowed with barely restrained anger.
“You open that mouth, sugar, and I promise I won’t be goin’ easy on you,” he drawls, low and heavy, accent dripping off each word.
Not Jasper. You bite your lip, eyes immediately dropping to your lap. Definitely not Jasper.
You can’t bring yourself to break the stifling silence after that. Not when you can practically feel the Major’s anger radiating from him, which does nothing to ease the turmoil swirling inside of you. The soldier is never this open with his emotions, usually so careful to maintain a mask of indifference. With each step, you can feel the tension rising, his grip tightening, and your chest almost hurts from how hard your heart is beating.
It all comes to a head when you make it to the house. The moment your feet hit the ground, and he knows you're safe, the reins of his control slip, an uncontainable rage burning through him.
“I told you not to go out,” he mutters, pacing back and forth in your small entryway.
He can’t stay still, too scared of what he could do. Every cell in his body desires to pin you against the wall, handle you rough and selfish, make you realize how awful it felt to come back and find you gone. But he can’t. He won’t. That’s not what you deserve, he knows that. Jasper would be better at this, he would be gentle, but the Major has never been good at gentle.
You blink at him, wide-eyed from the door. It’s like watching a lion pace at the bars of a zoo, except there’s nothing between you and him. Nothing to keep you safe except him. He could do anything and you wouldn’t be able to stop him. You’re just a human, after all. And the Major has had his share of violence. Even though you know he would never hurt you, you can’t stop your hands from shaking.
“I wasn’t, I wasn’t going to be out long,” you try and explain, digging your fingers into the material of your coat, “I promise-”
“You promised you’d stay put,” he drawls roughly, hands clenching behind his back.
“I was just goi- going to get food!”
The blond grits his teeth, his usual impassive tone sharpening, “What on earth were you thinkin’?”
“I- I thought I’d be back before you,” you spit out, and immediately snap your mouth shut.
The Major stops pacing, every muscle in his body going rigid. You bite your cheek, pulse racing as he slowly turns to you, those gold eyes burning so dark you swear they almost look red. Like blood. Something tightens in your chest. That was the wrong thing to say.
“So you purposefully disobeyed my orders?”
“I didn’t-”
“You decided to be foolish and risk your life goin’ out in this storm,” he growls, slowly closing the space between you, “without anyone knowin’?”
You shrink back a little, panic clouding your head. The Major stops in front of you, frame towering over yours, making you feel impossibly small. Tears prick at your eyes as you shuffle back against the door, pain shooting up your leg as you put weight on it.
“Answer me, darlin.” He doesn’t relent, eyes burning into you. Waiting.
A lump forms in your throat. You bite your cheek, desperate to keep the tears at bay, eyes glued to his boots. You can’t. You can’t do this.
But the blood drains from your face when a fist slams into the door beside you, practically splintering the wood. You can feel it shake against you before settling into silence.
“I’m not goin’ to ask again, (Y/n),” he murmurs, deadly calm again.
You hold your breath, slowly bringing your eyes back up to the Major, and the look on his face makes your heart drop. It’s drawn into something unnervingly blank, cold. No more anger, just…
“Major-“ A tear breaks down your cheek, your voice unbearably quiet. “You’re scaring me.”
The change is instant.
Like light breaking through the clouds, the emptiness leaves his eyes, filling them back with warmth and concern and love.
And you crumble.
Jasper catches you with ease, arms wrapping around you tenderly as he lowers you both on the ground. You curl into him, face buried in his coat as the tears come freely now. You couldn’t stop them even if you wanted, and you’re just so tired, so hurt. There’s nothing left in you, all you can do is cry and cling to him for dear life.
“‘m sorry, I’m sorry,” you hiccup miserably, and Jasper feels his still heart break. “I’m so sorry, Jazz, I didn’t mean to. I just, I just needed food, and it wasn’t that far, and I thought- I thought-”
He hushes you softly, fingers brushing through your hair as he unwinds the swirling mess of your emotions. You can feel it, you’ve always been able to, the subtle shifts and gentle pulls. Never too much, because he knows you wouldn’t want that, but enough so you’re not drowning in them.
Eventually you’re calm enough to take a full breath, the air stuttering past your lips as you go limp in Jasper’s hold. He draws you tight against him, brushing his hand down to rest at the nape of your neck, just a comforting, constant pressure.
“You’ve nothin’ to apologize for, darlin,” he murmurs eventually, voice muffled in your hair. “I’m the one who should be. I had no right treatin’ you like that, no matter how worried I was.”
“But-”
“No,” he cuts you off firmly. “It wasn’t right, darlin. It was my fault for bein’ late. He…He’s mighty overprotective of you, and he- I don’t know how to handle myself well when it comes to you. I hope you can forgive me.”
“I do…” You sniffle, the sound soft and sad, but your grip on him tightens. “But I should’ve listened, then I wouldn’t have slipped and gotten hurt.”
Jasper pulls you back suddenly, brows furrowed in surprise, “What? You’re hurt? Where? Do I need to get Carlisle?”
You laugh weakly, his overwhelming concern easing the tightness left in your chest. The tension drips from your muscles, adrenaline slowing. “No, no, I’m fine. I just, I fell…outside and I think I twisted my ankle, is all.”
“Let me see.”
You squeak as he sweeps you up for the second time today. You wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you to the couch. Every touch is slow, careful, as he sets you down and goes to work on getting your boots off. You wince a little when you have to bend your ankle, and he murmurs a quiet apology.
Relief washes over you though when his cool fingers smooth over your heated skin. It’s like the best ice pack ever. You can’t help but sink into the couch with a sigh, eyes fluttering shut.
Jasper purses his lips. It must have been a bad fall since your ankle is angry and swollen. He should have come back sooner, then this wouldn’t have happened. You wouldn’t have gone out in the storm, you wouldn’t be hurt, and the Major never would have scared you.
His thoughts flashes back to the look on your face. The fear glimmering in your eyes as he leaned over you. It’s burned into his mind, replaying over and over.
“Major, you’re scaring me.”
After a few seconds too long of silence, you peek an eye open. Jasper kneels, statue still in front of you, eyes set on something distant. A frown catches your lips, and you lean forward, touching his chin gingerly. Those gold eyes dart up to you, coming into focus, flicking between their usual warmth and a familiar steeliness. You shake your head fondly.
“Major,” you call, hand resting against his cheek, “come on, let’s talk.”
He straightens ever so slightly, but instead of drawing back like you’d expect, the stoic man covers your hand with his own, turning to skim his nose to the inside of your wrist. He takes a deep breath, eyes closed. You sit there, just like that for a while, watching him quietly.
When he talks, his voice is a low, calm rumble, his lips brushing against your skin, “I’m sorry for actin’ like such an animal, sugar.”
You purse your lips. A part of you wants to just forgive him. Move on from all of this and forget it. But then you remember the sound of his fist hitting the door, the way it resounded in your chest in place of your heartbeat. You’ve never felt like that, and you don’t want to feel like that again.
“I know you were worried,” you start nervously, wetting your lips. The Major doesn’t say a word, eyes set on you patiently, just waiting for you to continue. You take another deep breath, “I know you asked me to stay home and it upset you that I didn’t. I know you want to keep me safe. But…but it scared me, how angry you got, and that’s, that’s not okay.”
“It’s not,” he hums in agreement, thumb brushing soothingly over your pulse.
You nod and feel a little more confident as you go on, “I, I might do something you don’t like in the future, and if I do, you need to talk to me first. Nicely, please. I love you, like I love Jasper, but we’re equals, even if you’re a lot stronger and bigger than me. ” His lips twitch a little in amusement. You shoot him a scolding look, which makes him fall back into seriousness. “I don’t take orders. I listen because I know you care, but you need to listen to me, too. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He pulls your hand back, pressing a brief kiss to your knuckles. It softens you a bit. A small smile draws across your lips. “You have my solemn word, it won't happen again. And my deepest apologies.”
“You’re forgiven,” you chirp. The last of your worries melt away at the smile he gives you, all lopsided and charming. You shake your head with a laugh, “But you owe me, mister.”
“Well, of course,” he concedes easily, desiring nothing more than to cheer you up now, “What can I do for you, little lamb?”
Shifting awkwardly, careful of your ankle, you jab a finger at the plastic bag you dropped by the door, “Make me some dinner! Cause I’m starving and that’s what got us into this mess.”
The vampire laughs, fully laughs. It’s something you don’t get to hear often, so you absolutely love it. Love him and the way his eyes crinkle with mirth as he pushes himself to his feet, tipping a nonexistent hat to you. Jasper.
“It would be my pleasure, darlin.”
“Thanks, hun.”
---
This was SO hard to write! I suck at doing anger, because it's hard to represent the unhealthy relationship stuff. I tried to turn it around cause I believe ultimately he's a respectful man, and that's how I want to portray him.
So I hope you guys like this! Sorry if the pacing's weird or anything, I just wanted to get it done!
𝜗𝜚 Lemme show you I could do better — college au. best friend!katsuki. (nsfw)
Katuski didn’t think of himself as a jealous man. Especially towards his best friend’s dates. But he knew with every fiber of his being, he could treat you better than these lame dudes you keep going out with.
You’ll show up to his dorm disappointed, shoving your head into the comfort of his chest. And Katsuki was tired of it.
So this time he’ll show you that you deserve better.
Gruff hands at the back of your neck pulling you against him. Lips slotted together, ruining the lipgloss you applied earlier. You can feel your heart racing, moaning into his mouth.
Your shirt is forgotten on his floor, quickly met with his. Somewhere along the way, you end up beneath him, pressed against his mattress. Your arms looped around his neck as he’s grabbing at your waist, pulling at your waistband to tug the rest of your clothes off. He’s still got his pants on, but his chest is exposed. Years of going to the gym carved into abs on his torso, his v-line slightly exposed.
He finally pulls himself away from your now swollen lips. Pressing his lips once to your neck, the curve of your breasts, and finally your inner thigh.
“Kats— fuck, please.”
He watches (and feels) you unravel from his tongue. Your thighs almost shaking under his warm touch, your hands grabbing at the tufts of his hair, slightly pulling on it from the pleasure.
Focusing on that sweet spot that has squirming. Soon replacing his mouth with his fingers, immediately groaning from you clenching around him.
Your hips grind against him, chasing that climax. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer. One hand wrapped around his wrist, keeping his fingers buried inside, the other fisted at the sheets.
The words barely make it past your lips, a small moan of his name as that coil in your stomach finally snaps. Drenching his fingers in your arousal.
↪ in katsuki's eyes, the little family he built was perfect, no matter what anyone else had to say. katsuki bakugo x reader
content warning: your son is mute in this!!! i thought it would be an interesting concept to explore since bakugo was so loud as a kid. also imagining him with a baby boy that's calm & quiet makes my heart singggggggg
when your son was first born, he looked identical to your husband. they both had the same pale skin and unruly blonde strands you loved threading your fingers through, and after the first few months of your little boy's life, you would come to learn that he had acquired katsuki's smile, too. it was small (uncharacteristically shy) and a sight that had your heart growing three sizes bigger whenever you saw it. you're sure your chest doesn't have enough space to harbor all the love you feel for your two favorite people.
your son was a naturally quiet baby. never fussing much and always quieting down once he was in either you or katsuki's arms. it was no surprise that so many of your friends always fawned over the adorably chubby baby that happened to be so well behaved, and he was quite often referred to as being an angel—but, there was something undeniably different about your son from other children.
while you were used to seeing funny videos of babies blabbering nonsense or the familiar chime of a child's laugh in public, you've never had the pleasure of hearing any of those sounds from your son. the most you and katsuki had gotten were breathless little fits of laughter and small huffs every now and then when he wanted to get your attention. he was... quiet, silent in a way you weren't used to after being with katsuki for so long.
he responded perfectly well to his surroundings, showed no other issues that could have you feeling concerned, and doctors initially told you and katsuki that some children are simply late bloomers. you'd soon come to learn that something had been amiss with him, but you'd also learn how to adapt.
there had been no more trying to coax your son into talking after the acceptance of his fate, just you and katsuki adjusting to the fact that your little boy's voice simply wasn't something you'd get to hear.
you try to be silent as you shift outside your son's bedroom door, using the corridor's light to get a better glimpse at the scene inside. katsuki has one knee pulled up to prop a book against, and his other arm is cradling your son to his chest. the four year old's eyes are bright and attentive, face pressed against the curve of katsuki's broad chest as he listens to his father's gruff voice read him a bedtime story.
katsuki's palm runs up and down the little boy's back, unaware of your watchful eyes in the doorway. you watch your son fight to keep his eyes open and keep listening, but it's not long before he's going limp in katsuki's hold with his lashes fluttering close. there's a few moments of silence before you hear the rustling of fabric as you watch katsuki carefully lay your son onto his bed and tuck him beneath his blanket, smoothing out the blonde strands on his forehead as the little boy's breathing slowly evens out.
katsuki doesn't turn when you wrap your arms around his waist, merely slinging an arm over your shoulder and sitting the both of you down on the edge of your son's bed
"kats, did you like his pajamas?" you question quietly, watching the corner of your husband's lip quirk up in a rare grin
the pajamas you refer to currently on your son are dynamight themed, with bright orange fabric as soft as the fluffiest of clouds. he glances back at the sleeping boy before shaking his head
"didn't think i'd like seeing him wear my merch so much." katsuki grumbles, almost like he's mad at himself for finding the sight endearing
"he got so excited when he saw them while we were out shopping." you murmur fondly
"ya think he's finally taken an interest into hero merch cause he saw me freak out over that icyhot plush I found in his toy box?"
"well, you did throw it off the balcony. totally uncalled for by the way."
"you shoulda seen his face afterwards. funniest thing ever." katsuki snorts, glancing at the peacefully sleeping boy before his eyes soften
"and i got him a bunch of toys after. i think we got even."
"sure," you smile softly. his palm, warm and steady, slips under your shirt and moves up and down the slope of your spine in that comforting manner you've come to love. katsuki eyes your son for a moment, gaze slowly moving back towards you in thought. you look up at him through your lashes curiously, and he suddenly pulls you closer
"i want another one."
"another—what?"
"you know." he grumbles, and you gasp quietly before gently slapping his arm
"katsuki!"
"what? we make cute babies." he huffs, poking your cheek as you gently swat his hand away. he grabs your wrist, raising his brows to let you know that he was serious, and you pause briefly as you stare back at him
"...we'll see." you finally settle on, and he seems satisfied by your answer as he stands and intertwines your fingers with his, pulling you along with him out of your son's room
"i get to chose the name this time around."
"you'll name it something stupid."
"her. and i won't." he sneers, pinching your cheek as you squeal
"a girl? you'd want a girl? you said you didn't care about the gender the first time around." you say surprised as he shuts your son's bedroom door, leading you down the hall
"yeah, but... i dunno. i like the thought of seeing a mini you running around the house, and i think he'd like a sister... doesn't sound so bad." he murmurs, ears tinged pink as you smile
"that's cute." you coo with an infectious giggle. his faux annoyance simmers away eventually when you squeeze his hand tightly in your own
"mama mitsuki is going to be so happy to hear you want more—i can already picture her face." you say as you imitate her expression, parting your lips in a mock shock as katsuki groans, loud and unabashedly
"she's gonna be fucking insufferable if we tell her. i'd rather not. don't you remember what she did the first time when we told her you were pregnant?"
"she invited the whole neighborhood to a cookout in her backyard and printed copies of the ultrasound to pass out in goodie bags." you recall with a laugh, and katsuki rolls his eyes
"and that is why we're not telling her. if it happens... we'll keep it between us for a little while, alright?"
his voice is uncharacteristically soft before his hand moves to cradle the back of your head, pulling your forehead closer to him before placing a kiss onto your temple and ruffling your hair.
you use the moment to take advantage of katsuki having his guard down to get on your tippy toes to peck his lips. he doesn't hesitate to wrap his hands around the back of your thighs to lift you off the ground, and you quickly wrap your legs around his strong waist with a grin
"let's leave him at mama mitsuki's for the weekend and work on getting him a sister." you whisper against katsuki's lips, and when you watch his eyebrows shoot to his hairline and a sputtered this weekend?! escape his mouth, you can't help the laugh that bubbles out straight from your belly
Established relationship! Katsuki x pastrychef reader, where reader bakes a lot at home and there's always some fresh cake etc when exhausted prohero!Katsuki comes home
(Giggles at you from a distance)
(Throwing another note at you)
I was thinking Fluff but wouldnt mind some smut
(Runs away)
(catches note)
(opens it)
DANGG-- this is perfect for me, thank youu for being my first request! I'll try my best, also i have to restart because I forgot to save it to my drafts and the app refreshed hhhh, it was on me lolzzz anyways lemme know if i should change anything! I'm sorta meh at writing so I hope I hope it doesn't become tooo ooc. <3 also sorry SUPER sorry if he is ooc, I swear I tried to keep it in character!
| Katsuki was always the completive type even past high school, that's just how he is and he will never change the way he is unless it goes astray then yeah, he'll try....
| One time while Katsuki was just showing his internships the ropes, then a random villain appears causing mayhem to innocent old people because they think they're just a waste of living orgasms, (I fs spelt this wrong so oopsies-- work with me here lmaoo) instead of giving orders to his internships.... he just immediately jumped the gun and blasted his way towards the villains with his students behind him trying to catch up besides 1 whose quirk can sort of catch up beside him.
| Katsuki finally caught up and knocked the villain out to hand them towards the police, then the reporters popped out from hearing the commotion from a few blocks away. Katsuki felt smug from all the praises and comments from then but by then, he felt so exhausted even though he hid it from everyone, he really just wants to go back home to you....
| After allll those questions that felt like forever and send off his internships back home, he couldn't wait to fall flat on his warm comfortable bed, especially with you besides him but that wasn't the plan when he opened the door.
| The first thing he noticed as he gently opened the door, (hehe doki doki ref) and immediately caught a wiff of sweet pastries hitting his nose, so he walked closer to the source and whaddya know? it's you baking again!
| He always loved the baking side of you so much, it feels like a warm domestic feeling inside but like he'll admit that to you? NO WAY! ...maybe when you both were sitting on the couch together all drunk dazed.
| He wrapped his meaty arms around your waist and whispered in your ear, "mmm, smells really good .... baking again I, see?". you giggled in his hold and responded, "Of course! Gotta spoil you a little you know?" you say while there's a bunch of cakes and cupcakes all over the kitchen counter which is comically funny, but Katsuki just lazily smiled at all of the desserts everywhere and slumped on your shoulder, "Lemme try one, baby." he says as you immediately reached around to grab an orange cupcake and fed him.
| You noticed his tired state and finished making the last of the cupcake batch to walk him towards your guy's bedroom and helped changed outta his hero suit and in his black boxers then his grey sweatpants over it.
| You both laid down together on your shared bed and made sure to cover you and your husband.
| As you were about to lean over your side to shut the lamp off, your husband's charred hand came across your waist to hold you against himself, almost like he don't want to let you go like he's afraid you'll fall into the pits of dark void if you step out of the bed.
| "Katssss, I need to turn off the lamp." You whined then let out a little giggle at your usually once prideful husband acting all clingy all over you. "Leave it on...", He grumbled before mumbling the rest of his thoughts, "no light will get in the way of my chance to relax with my princess....now go back to sleep."
| You shrugged your shoulders and turned around to face him while adjusting the blanks to make sure that it's covering you both, wrapping your arms around HIS waist and drifted off to dreamland....cue Katsuki sneaking a smile over your head as he presses your body closer to his.
| Yeah your happy where you are....
PT2 MIGHT come soon, stay tuned gng-- alsooo hope y'all like this Ik I'm mediocre at this lolz but it's a super fun hobby <3
nico's blog – hubsand!saiki x reader; hopeless(ly devoted to you)
summary: for this req; saiki breaks his antenna and refers to his wife for assistance!
notes: fem!reader, super excited for my first req EEEEEK i need smore if u have a speck of an idea pls tell me anything!!!!
an average day at your and saiki's apartment. as you have a day off on friday and your husband doesn't, you gently hum as you vacuum around the house and do a few chores.
despite your repulsion against humdrum labor, you decide to chime in on the housework for once as your husband, kusuo, is out at his menial office job.
the day is peaceful, and you expect it to continue as such, as your hands deftly tend to wiping your average-costing counter.
however, what you don't know is the chaos emerging from a few blocks away at saiki's office.
while sitting at his desk, tucked away in the corner for average-skilled workers like himself, saiki sat calmly.
he wasn't typing, as he performed his work in violent spurs of energy where he completed all of a day's work in half an hour.
this leaves him filling the rest of the day with reading or mindless dilly-dallying.
however, as saiki was enthralled in his solitaire game work, he was caught off guard for a split second.
and, to his utter dismay and bad luck...
in that split second of defenselessness, the following series of events occurred behind the psychic:
a female coworker with pink hair messed up with the copy machine and printed hundreds too many of the same paper.
her manager came to scold her.
to come to her defense, her video-game-lover boyfriend (who coincidentally had broken his glasses earlier that day, rendering his eyesight completely defective) began walking towards her.
because of his completely substandard eyesight, the boyfriend mistook the little pink ball of saiki's control device as the head of his pink-haired girlfriend.
before saiki can react, the boyfriend places his hand on the ball and accidentally crushes the control device out of surprise that it’s not his girlfriend.
(note: if you think this dumb series of events totally doesn't make sense, i just wanted to insert a little reference to this manga/show i really love called love is hard for otaku... let me be a little cringe. if u hate this then let's just say he was hit by a paper ball or something idk.)
it all happened so fast, not even the all-hearing all-seeing psychic could prevent it.
and as a result, power begins to course through saiki's veins. uncontrollable, unbridled power.
countless voices flood his brain. the strength of the gods begin pounding at his finger tips. his powers almost seep from any nook and cranny of his body.
as his coworkers fall to his feet with apologies, saiki quietly stands, takes the broken remnants of his control device, bows, and walks towards a secluded area.
the second he gets to a spot where he is unable to be seen, saiki instantly teleports to his safe haven as a desperate attempt to escape.
as you're swaying to a soundless tune, pan in hand, you squeak in surprise as your husband teleports out of nowhere.
"ku? why aren't you at work-?" you sputter out, until you notice the lack of control device in his hair.
"did something happen to your...oh, your powers! are you alright?!" you exclaim.
because of his not needing to explain, saiki relaxes his entire body. his head falls upon your shoulder and his limp hand weakly falls into yours.
among your two's hands, saiki transfers the broken apart complex pieces of his antenna.
you squint at the tiny little parts as your husband sits limp in your lap on the kitchen floor.
his shaky breathing fans against your neck and his tie, now crooked, presses against your collarbone.
"...please" saiki weakly sputters out, hair falling onto his sweat-clad forehead. your eyes widen.
without being able to telepathically communicate with you (due to your germanium jewelry,) he resorts to verbal speaking.
however, with his powers haywire, he can barely utter out words.
you've never seen this all-powerful psychic so vulnerable. even on your wedding day, he was completely stoic.
not knowing a clue of what to do, you slide your germanium wedding ring off and press it into saiki's hand, effectively cancelling his mind reading.
you hear a quiet sigh of relief from saiki.
"ku, i don't think i can put this together-" you sputter out.
his hand tightens around yours, however microscopically as to not set off any powers.
before he can repeat another plea, you mumble about how you'll try your best.
it has been over an hour, and you have made no progress to helping your desperate husband.
with his head in your lap, you try to fiddle around with his control device, mindlessly clicking together weird looking circuits and pieces.
"are you sure your brother doesn't have a manual or anything? can't you teleport him over here, ku?! i can't do this!" you exclaim, meeting the gaze of saiki.
his eyes are glassed over and you frown, pressing your hand to his forehead and brushing away his damp bangs.
he weakly envelops your hand with his own, careful not to release any of his kept-away strength as to not hurt you.
he closes his eyes. he looks so fragile.
the boy trusts you completely: perhaps not to fix his control device, but to witness and care for him in this state of utter disorder.
"kusuo," you breathe out, carefully setting down his control device and laying his head down on your shared bed, "what can i do to help you? i can't fix your device, nor can i get your brother right now" you frown.
the psychic slowly opens his eyes behind his green-tinted glasses.
with his face stoic as ever, he weakly intertwines your fingers with his own.
"...okay" he manages.
and for once in his life, saiki kusuo looks boyish. his eyes are glossed over and a bit shaky. his forehead is damp. his movements are clumsy and awkward. despite the fact the weight of a thousand worlds are piled onto this young man's shoulders...
his eyes still bore into yours with so much love and trust and desperation all swirling around in two shaky little purple pupils covered by green translucent panes of glass.
he weakly tugs you down to him and wordlessly forces you to lull him to sleep. never would he speak of this again, but you whisper sweet nothings and caress the boy's hair nonetheless.
saiki's breathing eventually evened out with his head dug deep into the crook of his dear wife's neck.
saiki wakes up to a fixed control device in his head and no psycho brother in sight.
turns out (via a note you left on his bedside) that you got a hold of kuuske online and forced him to give you remote instructions on fixing it.
you, as a result of being up all night fixing that stupid device, sit hunched asleep on his bedside with dark circles under your eyes.
saiki cups your face and presses a gentle peck to your tired lips, before smiling gently and whispering something only he would ever know.
i kinda tried a new vibe style of writing is this cringe omg it is cringe omg kill be bruh omg. me when i lose it. I CAN'T WRITE CUTE FLUFF AAAGH kind anon i hope i didn't let you down beautiful soul u deserve the WORLD
also i want to ask u guys are u guys uncomfortable with me putting the term Y/N in writing now because i saw this post that pissed me off about how putting y/n in writing is cringe because of that mafia boss trend and i was like....embrace the cringe what are u talking about. and i was really mad but i don't want u guys to get weirded out so even tho i'm totes fine with it i wanna hear ur thoughts
saiki k taglist (comment to be added!): @skeletaldino @puppysandrainbows @aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa444
