#I’ll share just one just one small oc :(

[plushieray2]

My oc’s… please

[darkbluekies]

Make things right? Or make them worse?

Yandere!doctor (platonic to his children) x twin daughters ocs x female!reader

Summary: Dr Kry’s children finds out their fathers dark secret, and he's determined to silence them.

Warnings: toxic household, yandere, favoritism, guilt, poison, mentions of murder (things along this way)

A/N: I have created my own poison for this story, so I choose the effects. Lol.

Word count: 6.2k

“Bye, dad”, Lydia says and closes the car door.

Her twin follows out of the car, almost hides behind her like a shadow. Lydia frowns confusedly. She’s been more silent than usual this morning. They turn to walk into school.

“Girls”, Dr Kry says through the open car window, catching their attention. “I want you here at three sharp, okay? I’m not in the mood for waiting.”

“Yes, sir”, Lydia answers. 

“Good. Have a good day, girls, I’ll see you later.”

With that said, he drives off. Lydia turns to Nadia who finally raises her gaze from her feet. 

“What’s wrong?” Lydia asks and fixes her backpack. “You’ve been acting off all morning.”

“I have to talk to you about something”, Nadia says hesitantly and looks at her with uneasy eyes. 

Lydia blinked and frowned. “What?”

“I was meaning to talk to you earlier, but I didn’t want to do it when dad was around.” Nadia glanced at the other students swarming around the school grounds. “It’s about mom … and her sickness.”

For as long as they can remember, their mother has been bound to her bed by a rare disease. Thankfully, their father is a remarkable doctor and has been caring for her ever since the twins' birth. He works at a hospital in the city and travels forty minutes back and forth every day, dropping the twins off at school on the way there, and picking them up on the wayback. When they were young, they were put in a private school carefully chosen by their father — who has been very active in the administration.

Their father is a complex person. Although they’ve been by him their entire life, they still feel like they don’t know him. He rarely talks about himself, and seem to have a human side for their mother only. Very rarely, there’s a soft side for the girls … often they’re met by a doctor, rather than a parent. Despite that, Lydia has always been a daddy’s girl, while Nadia has clung to their mom for love and comfort. 

“What about it?” Lydia asks carefully. 

“I heard something …”, Nadia starts and licks her lips nervously. “I heard these noises, from mom and dad’s room-”

“Don’t tell me you heard them have sex”, Lydia grimaces. 

“No …” Nadia shakes her head, eyes shaking. “They were talking. Mom was crying and daad was standing by the bed, holding her cheeks in his hands like this …” She cups her sisters cheeks in demonstration, “...while saying: ‘you’re never going back there, I’ll never share you like that again’.” She shivers. “I-I don’t know what that was, but it made me feel really weird.”

Lydia frowns, trying to picture the scene in front of her. 

“Are you sure that it wasn’t just dad’s weird love language?” she asks carefully. 

“I don’t know”, Nadia sighs defeatedly. “Mom seemed … scared. She looked up at him with eyes full of terror. She could have had a nightmare or something, but dad’s voice- … it was awful. I don’t know how to describe it, but it sounded extremely dark.”

“We could try to ask her.”

“What if dad hears?”

“I could distract him while you ask, if that helps you ease your worry.”

Nadia smiles gratefully. “Thank you, Lyd.”

Lydia gives her an unsure smile and grabs her hand and they walk into school. 

Like Dr Kry had asked them to, they stand by the gates at three sharp. His white car rolls over and the two of them jumps in, Lydia in the front seat and Nadia in the backseat.

“How has your day been?” he asks and drives off. 

He always asks about their classes, teachers and friends. If there’s a small detail he doesn’t like, he makes sure to contact the school and let them know his thoughts. More than one friendship has ended thanks to his overprotectiveness and the twins has learned to dilute the truth enough for him to be able to swallow it. So once again, they answer in the way he wants to hear it. 

The car drives from the city, gets off the highway and enters a countryside road. The dirt road is divided in the middle with grass, creating enough space for the wheels of his white car to roll forward. Here, nothing can be heard except the sounds of distant birds. Their white, edwardian villa is surrounded by a deep, dark forest, close to a gigantic sparkly lake with the closest neighbor being a kilometer away. Despite the isolating upbringing the twins have had, getting away from the noisy, stressful city to the empty forest always cleanse their brains. 

The white, Scandinavian, edwardian aged, wooden villa appears behind the trees like a castle. The house has two floors with a green atticroof, and a bushy, blooming garden in the same color, two glass verandahs on either side of the house and a white fence around the garden.

The twins get out of the car. Nadia gives her a look and Lydia nods. 

“Dad”, she says. “I’ve been feeling a bit weird these last days … I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Really?” Dr Kry asks and frowns. He closes the trunk of the car. “Who have you been around? Are any of the other students sick?”

“A few.”

“Nadia, are you feeling bad too?”

“No”, Nadia replies.

“Could you please give me a check up?” Lydia asks. 

“Alright, come with me”, Dr Kry says and nods at her to follow him. 

While they walk inside, their father and Lydia walks to the living room and Nadia sneaks off upstairs. She moves carefully to their parents’ room and knock gently on the door before entering. Their mother, you, is lying in bed with a book in her hand. You look as weak as ever. Nadia shivers. 

“Hi, sweetheart”, you smile and puts down your book on your chest. “Did you have a good day in school?”

“Yes …”, Nadia mumbles and sits down on the side of the bed, unsure on how to start this absurd conversation. 

“What’s wrong, Nadia?”

“What happened yesterday? WIth you and dad?”

You flinch. Your smile disappears for a moment for it to appear quickly again, but this time in a fake manner. 

“Why did he say that?” Nadia asks carefully. “Why did he say that he wasn’t going to share you again?”

“O-Oh, that …”, you mumble with an embarrassed smile. “It was nothing, don’t worry about it. It was just some adult stuff that me and your dad were talking about.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, honey. Why? Did it make you worry?”

Nadia nods slightly. Y/N gives her a smile and takes her hand. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart, there’s nothing to be afraid of”, you reassure Nadia. “Whatever happens between me and your dad is nothing you have to be afraid of. We will always put you and your sister first, okay? There’s nothing you have to be worried about. I love you, darling.”

“I love you too, mom …”

You hug her, and Nadia hugs back, but she can’t help but feel that her heart sinks. Something isn’t right. 

The very next day when they’re left off at school, Nadia grabs Lydia’s arm. 

“Let’s go to the hospital”, she says the second their father’s car disappears behind the corner. She holds up a metallic key. “I have the key to mom’s old room.”

“What?” Lydia asks in confusion. “Why?”

“I have a feeling that mom isn’t really sick and I have to take a look around in her old hospital room. Something isn’t right!” She clears her throat and lowers her voice. “Mom and dad met at the hospital and that he was her doctor, that much we know, right?”

Lydia nods, trying to follow along. 

“Isn’t it weird that a doctor as professional as our dad decided to start a relationship with a patient like that?” Nadia asks, sounding unsure. “And wouldn’t he have done everything he could to make mom feel better? Shouldn’t she be better now? I just … I want to know if he has done something.”

“Do you really think he has?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t know. But something isn’t right, and I feel that. Mom seemed to be put on the spot when I asked her about the interaction I had overheard. She seemed scared.” Nadia grabbed her hand in hers. “Please, Lyd, can we go there and just take a look?”

Lydia hesitates and glances at the private school behind them, contemplating the consequences. 

“Please”, Nadia repeats. “If mom is getting hurt, I want to help her.”

“Okay”, Lydia nods. 

With that said, they hurry past the school gates before a teacher has the time to catch them. They take the first bus to the state hospital their father works at and hope that he’s with a patient while they sneak around. 

They hurry inside the hospital and keep their heads down to make sure that none of the working receptionists would recognise them and report to their father right away. They stay silent until they get into the elevator. 

Once out, they sneak over to the door. Lydia stands guard as Nadia presses the key into its lock. The click from the key opening echoes in the empty corridor. Nadia’s hand hovers above the door handle. Her heart twirls around uncomfortably. In a moment, she will be in the room where their parents met, where something happened that made their dad take the decision of stepping over the professional line. If that was good or bad is yet to be known, but she can’t help but feel worried. 

The room is empty, in more than one way. The spirits of old memories haunt the room and they leave a sour taste in the twins’ mouths. Lydia looks towards the bed. Their mother has been lying here for months with a sickness that has kept her bed bound for years. But what happened while she was here?

“What are we looking for?” Lydia wonders. 

“Anything”, Nadia shrugs and looks around. “Whatever that can help us is fine. Journals, reports, notes — anything.”

They start to rummage through drawers, in binders and notepads. Lydia finds herself holding a yellow paper binder with their mother’s name written on it, in their father’s handwriting. 

“Nad, look at this”, Lydia says and holds up the binder. 

They put the binder on the desk and start to pull out papers. Every paper is written from the top to the bottom in ink.

“He has documented her every day …”, Lydia says, perplexed. She shakes her head in denial. “Every single day, every single hour. Obsessively. Look, every little detail is written down. ‘12:35, eaten an apple’, ‘16:52, took a shower’, ‘22:30, called for me on the telephone’. What is this?”

Nadia picks up another paper, a smaller, clearly supposed to be hidden between the other sides. She puts her hand over her mouth as her eyes widens. 

“Oh no”, she gasps and drops the paper. “No, no, no, no …”

Lydia frowns, bends down and picks up the paper. Her heart sinks as she reads the note. It’s a single word, but they’re familiar with it. They’ve found bottles of it in the cellar and the attic multiple times, and when they asked Dr Kry about it, he answered that it was a substance to kill vermin.

“He’s poisoning mom”, Nadia whispers in horror and looks at her twin with wide, terrified eyes. 

Lydia feels the air disappear from her lungs. Suddenly, she feels nauseous. She sits down on the rolling stool and tries to control her breathing. Nadia sinks down on the bed with her head in her hands. 

“What the fuck do we do?” Lydia breathes out with her eyes staring dimly in front of her. She has never felt this empty before, this helpless. “What the fuck do we do now, Nadia?”

“W-We have to call the cops”, Nadia gulps. 

“The cops? Nad, he’s our dad!”

“But if he hurts mom …” Her voice dies out. “We can’t let him take more years from her.”

Lydia nods and wipes the few tears that have begun to run down her cheeks. With shaking hands, she unzips her backpack and shoves the binder down. They will need evidence if they have to prove to the cops. 

The door behind them opens. Both girls fly up from their positions and scurry over to each other. Dr Kry walks in and stops abruptly in the door. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks quickly. 

He’s trying to force a smile, but the red eyes of his daughters and the trembling bodies of theirs are all he needs to see, to know that they know. 

“How fucking could you?!” Nadia screams. 

Dr Kry hurries to close the door as she continues to shout through sobs. 

“What’s your deal with mom?!” she screams. “How can you keep her like this?! Where’s your fucking conscience?!”

She thinks that she’s going to explode in pure fear, anger and sorrow. Dr Kry clenches his jaw and sighs heavily. 

“Your mother is a very, very special person”, he says slowly, as if he is talking to a ticking bomb. “It is all a misunderstanding, girls, I will tell you everything at home. Come, we’re going home now.”

“We’re not going anywhere with you”, Nadia spits and stands in front of her frozen sister. 

“You don’t have to be afraid of me.” Dr Kry rolls his eyes when they don’t answer. “You’re my daughters, and you are not yet of age, you have to come with me.”

Nadia wants to refuse again, but she doesn’t want to leave her mother alone with him, not when he knows that they know. 

“Now”, Dr Kry decides. 

Nadia picks up Lydia’s bag and gives it to her sister. It looks like Lydia is going to throw up any second now. Nadia takes her hand and they follow their father out of the room, and out through a back door. For the first time, Lydia sits down in the backseat together with her twin. They hold each others hands tightly and keep silent the entire car ride home. 

“Girls, I never wanted you to see that”, Dr Kry sighs and tries to meet their eyes in the rear view mirror. “I- … It’s hard to explain. Your mother is a very special person who I’m very lucky to have met.”

Lydia squeezes her eyes shut, but she can’t keep him out of her head. 

When they come home, Nadia drags her sister into the house. 

“Girls, don’t go upstairs”, Dr Kry says in that same dark voice Nadia had heard him talk in a few days ago. “I want you to stay down here.”

They halt, suddenly too scared to move. 

“I want you to help me with dinner”, Dr Kry says. “Come on.”

The twins glance at each other. Lydia starts to drag her sister to the kitchen. They help in complete silence. Lydia’s hands are trembling while she cuts cucumber and it slips, cutting a slit in her finger. She yelps and drops the knife. 

“Oh, honey”, Dr Kry breathes out and grabs her hand. “You have to be careful.”

She doesn’t look at him as he washes her hand under the kitchen sink and puts on a bandaid. Her entire body is in fight or flight mode. 

When Dr Kry takes care of the final touches, the twins scurry up to their mother. Your face drops when you see them. 

“Why is he doing this to you?” Nadia asks thickly as she tries not to cry. “We found out.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, girls”, you say sorrowfully. “I wish that you never had to know.”

“Why do you let it happen?” Lydia asks quietly. 

“I have no choice … I can’t do anything.” You lower your gaze and voice to an ashamed whisper. “I don’t have the energy to run away, and if I managed to, you’d be in danger and I’d be dead. Your father has the only antidote to his self made poison. It’s safer for everyone if I stay here.”

“But mom …”, Nadia whimpers, “... he’s hurting you.”

“I … I know, dear.” 

The door opens behind them. 

“Girls, dinner”, Dr Kry says shortly and nods towards the corridor. “Go downstairs.”

The twins turn to you, wanting you to make their decision. You give them a reassuring smile and they leave. You look at the man who has become your husband, much to your dismay. 

“Why did you let them find out?” you whisper with tears in your eyes. “You promised that they would never know!”

“I didn't think that they would.” He wipes the tears that roll down your cheeks. “I’ll fix this mess. Don’t worry, darling.”

With that said, he tucks you in and leaves to go downstairs. The twins have sat down by the dining table with their blank, staring eyes turned down into the table. Dr Kry sits down and start to eat, without seeming to care at all about the incidents that happened earlier. Nadia stares down into her plate with disgust roaring in her stomach. If she eats, she’s going to throw it all up in a matter of thirty minutes. She closes her eyes and sighs sadly. Lydia tries to eat a bite, forcing it down her throat. 

“Nadia, eat a little”, Dr Kry says. 

“I’m not hungry”, she mumbles. 

“You need to eat a bit. I won’t allow you to leave the table before you have eaten. Look at Lydia, she’s eating.”

Lydia feels her cheeks heat up as the attention turns to her. She’s suddenly embarrassed over obeying. Feeling exposed and naked under Nadia’s look of disbelief, as if she’s just broken a silent pact. But instead of saying anything, Nadia picks up her fork and takes a bite of the white rice. The twins can agree that this might have been the worst dinner they have ever experienced. 

Nadia puts her hand over her heart and clears her throat. There's a heavy feeling over her chest, something almost suffocating. She looks to the side, seeing how Lydia is frowning as well, trying to clear her throat. Nadia think that she looks like she’s going to faint. She wants to ask her how she’s feeling, but doesn’t dare talk in front of their father, afraid to start a conversation. 

After dinner, the twins decide to go upstairs, but their legs suddenly feel weak enough to break apart. 

“What’s going on?” Lydia whispers and grips the staircase railing. 

“I think that he put something in the food”, Nadia whispers back. 

“I feel really sick …”

She falls down on her knees in the middle of the staircase, still holding onto the railing. Nadia hurries to pull her up again and drags her over to her bedroom, lazily tucking her in. 

“Don’t leave me”, Lydia whimpers and grabs her hand before she can leave the room. “Stay … please. Don’t go. I'm scared.”

Nadia agrees, not wanting to leave. She climbs down under the covers of Lydia’s bed. They lay in silence and look up at the tilted, wooden ceiling. For every minute passes by, they’re growing more and more sick. Every muscle in their bodies seem to ache, twist and turn. 

“He’s doing it to us too”, Nadia whispers. 

They hear the lock on the door click and give each other terrified looks. Nadia stumbles out of the bed and feel the handle. She gulps in horror and turns back to the bed. 

“It’s locked!” she says and breathes out in shock. “He actually locked it …”

“Come back …”, Lydia begs and reaches for her. 

Nadia returns to the bed, crawls down under the covers and hugs her. She wraps her arms around her sister and rests Lydia’s head on her shoulder. 

“I’m scared”, Lydia whispers. 

“It’s going to be okay”, Nadia replies, although she doesn’t believe it herself. “We’re going to be okay.”

Dr Kry removes his tie, about to go to sleep. 

“I can’t believe you …”, you whisper from the bed, with her eyes down at her trembling hands. 

“Darling …”, Dr Kry sighs and turns around. 

You raise your tone, but keep it hushed enough not to exceed the bedroom walls. “You promised that they would never get hurt! You promised that they would never get exposed to this fucking substance!”

“They haven’t … yet.”

“Yet?! Don’t fucking tell me-”

“They figured it out, okay? They heard our conversation and decided to check out the hospital for themselves. I underestimated their intelligence … and their love for you.” He sighs annoyedly. “I’m not going to let their lack of understanding break apart our family — that I have fought so hard for. I put something in their food to keep them still for a while. It’s nothing dangerous, little one. I promise you that.”

“If I knew that you were going to break your promise-”

“I had to.”

He is about to caress your cheek, but hears sounds coming from next door. One of the girls is banging on the locked bedroom door, and calling for him. Dr Kry excuses himself and gets out of the room. He walks over to Lydia’s room, where the noise is coming from. Quickly, he unlocks, finding Nadia leaning on the wall right next to the door. Her eyes are full with tears. 

“What’s going on?” Dr Kry asks. 

“Lydia isn’t waking up!” Nadia cries.

Dr Kry feels his body turn cold. He runs over to the bed where his other daughter is lying on her side, and he soon finds out that Nadia is right — she isn’t waking up. He shakes her, gives her gentle taps on her cheeks and lifts her up. Nothing wakes her. He has to take her to the hospital. 

“Wait, where are you going?!” Nadia screams after him as Dr Kry carries her sister down the stairs. “She doesn’t want to be alone!”

“You have to stay here with mom”, Dr Kry says over his shoulder. “I’m taking care of Lydia.”

He hurries out of the house and quickly places her down in the back seat. Dr Kry’s usual forty minute drive to the hospital took only twenty five minutes this time. He picked her up in her arms and ran inside through the backdoor, and didn’t stop until their reach the room you have spent many, many months in. Dr Kry places his daughter down on the very same bed you have laid in. He placed an oxygen over Lydia’s mouth and nose, turning on the machine. He hasn’t felt this scared in a long time. 

Finally, after an hour, Lydia opens her eyes with a small moan. Dr Kry hurries over to the bed and removes the mask. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks her and brushes the hair out of her face. 

“I feel really sick”, she whimpers. 

“Do you need to throw up?” 

Lydia nods. Dr Kry picks her up again and moves her into the bathroom where she hovers over the toilet for ten minutes. Dr Kry holds her hair back and grimaces sadly. He does feel bad for putting her through this, but he has to. 

“There you go”, he says and puts her down on the bed again. 

“Why am I here?” Lydia asks weakly.

“You weren’t responding when anyone tried to wake you up. I got worried, so I decided to take you here.”

“Am I going to die?”

Dr Kry scoffs out a smile in a weird sensation of deja-vu. He has heard that question a lot, in the exact same tone and manner, but from the generation before her.  

“You’re not”, he reassures her and strokes her hair. “You know that I would never let anything happen to you.”

“Why am I feeling like this?”

“I put something in your food to make you and Nadia calm down, but you seem to have reacted badly to the substance … weirdly enough. Since you’re identical twins, i thought you’d react the same, but it seems like you are a bit more sensitive than your sister.”

“Nadia ate less than me.”

“Yeah, you might have gotten more substance in your body, which is why you feel worse. It’s going to be okay, I will not let anything happen to you.”

“But you hurt me.”

His smile drops and his hand stops stroking her hair. He knows that Lydia shares half of her mothers genetics, but he didn’t know that she would sound exactly like you. She has never heard you use these phrases, and yet Lydia has chosen the exact same wording that you have tortured Dr Kry with years ago. 

“I didn’t mean for you to end up here”, Dr Kry sighs and continues to stroke her hair. “That was my fault, I admit that. However, I had to keep you and Nadia a bit sedated because of how scared you were.”

“Why did you use so much?” she whimpers. 

“I was a bit shaky myself, I wasn’t meant to hurt you, Lydia.”

Lydia sighs shakily and sinks down in the mattress. She wants nothing more than to go back home, to Nadia, but at the same time she knows that if she goes back home, she will be locked in her room again. Continuing with life now that they know their father’s secret will be difficult. 

“How long do I have to stay here?” she asks quietly. 

“Until you’re feeling better”, Dr Kry replies and stands up. “For now, I think that you need to sleep. It’s late.”

That’s the last thing she wants to do. She has always been Dr Kry’s (not so subtle) favorite, and she has always had a preference for her father … but for the very first time, she’s afraid of him. She can’t trust him anymore, especially about her health. Being unconscious is the last thing she wants to do. 

“I don’t want to”, Lydia says pleadingly. “I’m not tired … please don’t make me sleep, dad.”

Please don’t make me sleep. Your voice echoes in his head, in the exact same tone. Dr Kry knows that he did a million things wrong when he kept you here, and now he has a second chance to fix things. 

“Okay”, he breathes out and sits down on his stool. “You don’t have to sleep, darling.”

Lydia gulps and looks around in the room, trying to imagine how you had felt while being here. She feels a heavy sensation over her chest, like a heavy stone. She couldn’t see the poisoned air purifier that was mentioned in the journal. 

“Did mom lay here?” Lydia whispers. 

“Yes”, he answers quietly. 

“How long?”

Dr Kry looks down at his nails, eyes faltering. “A, uh … very long time. Many, many months.”

She starts to look around again. “Where is the air purifier?”

“It’s not here … it broke, a long time ago. I had to throw it away.”

“Do you still use that kind of thing on mom?”

“No, I don’t. Not often.”

But he has his new way to make sure you stay.

Nadia runs her hand through her hair. Her poor sister. What should she do? Dr Kry left the rooms unlocked, which means that she can move around. She drags herself into your bedroom. You look at her with wide, nervous eyes. 

“Is she okay?” you ask and take Nadia in your arms. 

“I-I don’t know”, Nadia responds shakily while shaking her head desperately. “She wasn’t waking up and …”

“She’s going to be okay. I know your father can all of those medical stuff … maybe a little too well.” You sigh and caress the seventeen-year old girl’s face. “It’s going to be okay.”

Nadia shakes her head. “No fucking way things are going to be okay! He’s a madman, mom.”

“I … I know.”

“We can’t stay here.”

“Where are we supposed to go, Nad? We have no car, nearest neighbor is a kilometer away and we have poison in our blood. Sweetheart, we can’t walk far.”

“Mom, we have to leave. We can’t stay here with this psychopath!”

“Nadia …”

Nadia sighs frustratedly and hides her face in her hands. Something has to work. The farthest she has seen you walk is out to the garden when they’ve had picnic evenings. You take her hand, removing it.

“Sweetheart … you know dad loves you, right?” you ask carefully. You don’t want her to hate her him, after all he is her father … but you have to let her know the truth, no more living in the shadow.

“Fucking doubt it”, Nadia mutters. 

“He does. In his … own little way. But I need you to understand that he has sides that he hasn’t shown you … a-and I don’t want you to see those sides.”

Nadia’s face goes blank. You’re trying your best not to get swindled back into old memories, but thinking about that murderous side of Dr Kry brings you back to a time you much rather would want to forget. 

“Mom?” Nadia asks blankly and almost shouts in panic. “Mom! What sides?”

“He … He is a very patient man, but he can't take as much as possible, so please, whatever you do … cooperate.”

“What does that mean? Mom?”

Nadia goes cold. That’s it, she thinks, they have to leave. 

“Mom, get up”, she says and grabs the blanket before ripping it off. “Now. Before he returns.”

“Nad-”

“We have to try, at least. Please.”

You hesitate before getting out of bed. Nadia grabs your hand and try to pull you out of the bedroom, but everything around you seem to spin. Your entire body is heavy and aching in all the wrong places. 

“Nadia, wait”, you groan. “If I’m going to move, I have to move slowly.”

“Alright”, Nadia agrees. “I’ll go get some stuff and then meet you by the stairs.”

Nadia runs to her room to collect her wallet and hoodies for herself and her sister, then runs to get your jacket. She meets you by the stairs, helps you put your jacker on and then start to lead you down. You’re terrified of falling. 

“Nadia, I don’t think that this is a good idea”, you mumble and think back of your numerous escape attempts, all ending with someone losing their life. 

“We have to, mom”, Nadia pleads. “I can’t leave you here.”

“What about Lydia?”

“I’ll figure something out afterwards.”

Nadia unlocks the front door and leads you out on the glass verandah. You’re filled with fear. What if you can’t walk? What if you hurt yourself? What if Dr Kry finds out? Your body won’t be able to take his anger. Besides, you have barely left the house in eighteen years — apart from a few car rides here and there — what if the world has changed to something you don’t like?

“Mom”, Nadia says slowly. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I’m terrified”, you admit. 

“We will be okay.”

They start to walk along the dark countryside road. There are no streetlight this far out in the forest, but the moon lights up enough for them to see where the road is heading. 

“It’s been years since I was outside last”, you say. “I think the last time I was out walking was in the garden, last summer when we had that picnic.”

“Have you ever tried to run away from dad before?” Nadia asks. 

“I have”, you answer quietly. “A few times.”

“Did you ever succeed?”

“That depends on what you mean by ‘succeeding’, because I’m still here, aren’t I? But I got away a few times … the only problem was that he found me again.” You sigh, realizing that perhaps you shouldn’t have this conversation with your underage daughter. “Forget that. Where are we going?”

“We need to go to our neighbors. They have to help us.”

Nadia has only spoken to the neighbors a few times, because of how rarely they run into each other. 

They only manage to walk a hundred meters before bright, beaming headlights light up in front of them. Nadia wants to flee into the forest — in case it happens to be her father behind the wheel — but can’t seem to pull you with her. The car stops and to Nadia’s horror, her father gets out. 

“What the Hell are you doing?!” he shouts, sounding both angry and terrified. “Y/N!”

You freeze in your spot and seem to crawl together like a hurt dog, sounding like one too. Dr Kry runs over to you. Nadia watches in horror and starts to panic, wondering what she should do. Stay here with you and get caught in Dr Kry’s claws … or make a run for it to try to get help. 

“I’m sorry”, you shriek in fear. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

Dr Kry hugs your shaking body in his arms and strokes your back, hushing softly.

“I know you didn’t come up with this stupid idea”, he reassures you. “Don’t cry, my dear, I'm here now. I know this wasn't your fault. I'm not mad at you. I’ll get you back home and I'll take care of you. It’s going to be okay.”

He helps you into the front seat. You don’t fight back in the slightest. Nadia looks back at the dark forest and gulps. Her eyes glues onto something in the backseat and realizes that he has come back with her sister! 

“Nadia, get in, we've had enough of these childish outbursts”, her father tells her. “Get in. Now.”

“Is she okay?” Nadia almost stutters and points at her sleeping sister. 

“She’s okay. If you don’t get in now, Nadia, I’m taking them both with me and you’ll never see them again.”

His favoritism has never been clearer, Nadia thinks. She can’t leave her sister … so she gets into the backseat. Nadia wakes her sister up and caresses her cheek. 

“Are you okay?” she whispers quickly. “Did he hurt you?”

“I feel okay”, Lydia whispers back. “Just … tired. I had tro throw up a lot and I think that he gave me some sleeping pills or something. I insisted on going home … so he let me.”

Nadia breathes out. She glances over at the front seat. Their father holds the steering wheel with one hand and yours with the other. 

“Please don’t cry”, he wishes. 

Nadia watches on in disgust. 

When they get back to the white villah, Nadia pulls her sister up to her own room and lays her down on the bed while Dr Kry takes you into the master bedroom. 

“Here you go”, Nadia says and tucks her in. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“Some water”, Lydia says quietly. 

Nadia disappears downstairs to get a glass of water. She meets her father in the stairs. 

“Nadia, I’m not sure your sister will be able to leave her bed for a while”, he says warningly. “I wouldn’t try to leave, if i were you. If you do, I will take both of them with me, and you’ll never see them again.”

“Do you like to hurt your family?” she spits back. “What kind of sadist are you?”

“One to make sure my family stays with me. If you don’t want to end up in the same physical state as your sister and mother, you’re going to continue living as if everything is normal, got that? Go to school, come home, study, continue everything. No talking to anyone about this. Is that clear?”

“So everything as normal … but without Lydia?”

“Exactly.”

“Why aren’t you healing her?”

“Because I’m not going to let you, or anyone, take my family from me. Be glad that I’m still letting you live normally.”

Nadia glares at him and continues up the stairs. She holds the glass to Lydia’s mouth, watching her sip. 

“What now?” she whispers. 

“I’m allowed to continue living like normally … and you don’t”, Nadia says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“But … but I don’t want to live like mom!”

“I know. I’m sorry, Lyd.”

The girl in the bed sighs sadly. Naida takes her hand and gulps. 

The coming weeks seem normal. Nadia goes to school, studies, returns to the villah, but nothing is the same. Without Lydia, there’s no use in being on top. She has no one to impress anymore. Her father is dead to her, and sucking up to him makes her sick. She barely talks to her friends anymore. They’re always asking her about Lydia, and why she’s not in school anymore. Nadia can’t come up with countless excuses … it’s easier to distance herself. 

Life doesn’t seem that bright and colorful anymore. Nadia can’t bring herself to be excited about things that used to interest her badly. Now, every day is a chore, something she wants to get done, until something happens … but she doesn’t know what it is. A death in the family? Someone saving them? Someone killing someone? 

Nadia walks out of school, seeing her fathers white car parked outside the gates, and him inside … waiting for her. 

[kingofbodyrolls]

BTS fic recs: April 2024

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty or dark as hell, so minors dni.❗ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the fic, it might seem like a tiny gesture, but it really means a lot for writers and I can guarantee it will put a smile on their faces💜 Let’s share and give lots of love! Looking for more to read? Check ‘The Library’ or last years recs 🙂

[index] → jan | feb (jhs) | mar (myg) | 💜 | may | jun | jul | aug | sep (jjk)(knj) | oct (pjm) | nov | dec (kth)(ksj) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, fantasy = 🪄. 

⭐Heart got Teeth @ugh-yoongi [12k] // knj x f.reader // enemies to fwb to lovers // 🥵😂

📝 (or, the one where namjoon meets his match and isn’t quite sure how to handle you.)

🗨️ wow okay, love, love, love this one 😭 it’s mainly from Namjoon’s pov, which is amazing, like all he observes about oc… Gosh and their back and forth teasing, witty banter and the dynamic between dominance and losing control— so good, ugh! 🥵 It’s amazing, so if you haven’t read this one yet, I highly recommend it ✨💯

I know I didn’t get to read so much Namjoon this month, so here’s a small list of what I didn’t get to read this month and stories that I’m excited to read— you can also find Namjoon’s old birthday rec list ✨

The Sheriff @ppersonna

Solace @m-yg93

Dino-Mite (ft. Taehyung) @chimcess

Castaways @rmnamjoons

To Tame a Fox @jamaisjoons

I know. I know. I never read enough Seokjin, and I’m really trying here 😭 I’ll share a list of what I’m looking forward to read, or you can check out my Seokjin birthday rec list ✨

Fast Lane @yminie

Cherry Topper @kth1 (@kth1fics)

Stuck with You @taleasnewastime

Off Limits (series) @floralseokjin

Christmas Warfare @gimmethatagustd

⭐Want a Taste @suga-kookiemonster [18.3k] // myg x f.reader // f2l, shopping mall!au // 🥰🥵😂

📝 pretzel pro. most skillful tongue in the food court world. allegedly. that’s what Yoongi keeps telling you, anyway. of course, you’re reasonably skeptical of his claims—but if there’s one thing that motivates the notoriously-lethargic man, it’s proving skeptics wrong.

🗨️ KDJHGFDKJGAHDFKJHL I don’t know where to start with this one! First, a new favorite of mine 💜 It was so fucking cute, so sugary fluffy, a loved the slow buildup between Yoongi and MC. Like, it was so damn perfect 😭 Their banter, their teasing, their friendship, how MC helps him, and how they are there for each other 💗💯 A masterpiece, perfection, and the writing was also amazing, just as the story and plot!!

⭐Wine [completed series] @junghelioseok // myg x f.reader // coworkers!au, restaurant!ua // 🥰🥵😂

📝 left intentionally blank by the author.

🗨️ OMG THIS IS FUCKING AMAZING!!!! The smut, the writing, the build-up is fucking incredible ✨💯

⭐Warm @ctrlhope [3.6k] // myg x f.reader // omegaverse!au, established relationship // 🥰🥵

📝 the second yoongi steps into your apartment, any hope for a quiet night in instantly vanishes from his mind.

🗨️ omg 🥵 it’s been such a long time since I’ve read anything omegaverse/a/b/o and fuck this was so good 😭 so well written, the words just flowed and omg they’re both omegas and so needy, fuck, I loved it so much 💖🥹💯

My poor Hobi— didn’t get to read any of all those I had planned to read this month 😭 So here’s a list of stories that I am planning to read. You are also welcome to check out this year’s Hobi birthday rec list ✨

Plant Boy @gukyi

Crash Landing @mininky

Best Fucking Friends (ft. Jimin) @back2bluesidex

The Retreat @ugh-yoongi

Safety Zone @btsgotjams27

⭐Under the Spell of a Demon’s Touch @jeonggukingdom [14.8k]  // pjm x f.reader // incubus!au, cheating!au, established relationship // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 you had believed, for your entire life, that creatures of the underworld were only a myth but you were proven wrong by the existence of Jimin. He is, according to his definition, a smaller type of Fae called Incubus. A creature of sex. Someone that can only live and strive as long as his sexual appetite is satiated every day. And Incubi are known in all of their myths to be insatiable and ravenous creatures.

🗨️ do you want to cry? 😭😭😭 This was devastatingly beautiful and so fucking sad! It was very hard for me to read because of all the cheating (I really don’t read those, because I don’t enjoy them). But this has been on my list since forever and I like the author 🥹 though, I will say that I appreciate it for the plot, so fucking sad and the writing is so wonderfully beautiful ✨ I am sure someone else might find it to their taste, which is why I recommend 💖

It is so freaking sad though, like I cried. A lot. Hauntingly beautiful, though I don’t want them to be together, because they both be hurting each other so much 😭💔

⭐The Ten Days of Ex-Mas: pt1 + pt2 @kpopfanfictrash [44.6k] // pjm x f.reader // holiday!au, second chance!au, hockey!au, exes to loves // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling. Jimin Park, star right winger of the NHL and (until recently), the love of your life, has a very large problem. Despite the courage he regularly shows on the ice, in his personal life, Jimin is kind of a coward. When you broke up this fall, he could barely admit it. Not to his neighbors. Not to his friends. Not even to his family, who are expecting him home for Christmas. In a desperate plea for more time, Jimin begs you to pretend you’re still dating – and to his surprise, you agree. Faced with a second chance, Jimin is determined not to squander it. If only fixing a relationship were as easy as falling in love.

🗨️ okay. Okay. Okay. *deep calm breaths* —THIS IS SO INCREDIBLY GOOD, I truly don’t know where to begin! The plot? The hurt/anger? Their chemistry? Their sexiness? Fuck, like everything in this is making it a beautiful masterpiece 💯💖 I really love how each of them thinks about what happened with their relationship, are working to get better, though Jimin should have been honest about his intentions for the trip, everything was just so fucking amazing 😭 I really loved the aspect of self reflection, seeking therapy, working through it and all that— really payed of for the characters! Loved it, it was so good 💜

Jimin, my man 😭 I’m really disappointed in myself this month— so here’s a few I’m excited to read, but didn’t get to this month. You can also check out Jimin’s birthday rec list from last year ✨

Secrets by the Shore @chateautae

Into the Wilderness @gukyi

⭐Pour Up @jungkxook [14k] // kth x f.reader + jjk x f.reader // fuckboy!au, threesome // 🥵

📝 sleeping with both notorious frat boys kim taehyung and jeon jungkook doesn’t sound so bad ━ especially when you’re drunk and faded.

🗨️ omg omg omg omg 🥵😭 So much smut, so beautiful and so freaking detailed, WHAT!? This was incredible, okay, if you haven’t read this one yet, please go and give it a read 🥹💯

⭐Bodyguard (there’s a pt 2) @yoonpobs [2.7k] // kth x f.reader // e2l, bodyguard!au // 🥵

📝 you protect taehyung from people but forget about the biggest threat. yourself.

🗨️ this part is just as good as the first part 😭 The sexual tension is so high, and oh my, it is so fucking hot 🥵 It is such an amazing series 💯 It’s a shame that it probably won’t be continued (the author is on hiatus), but the two parts that are up are so good! 💖

⭐Dick on the Go @jeonggukingdom [20.7k]  // kth x f.reader // bf2l // 🥰🥵😂

📝 it was all shits and giggles when you and Taehyung were desperate seniors in High School, having no idea what to do with your lives, wondering if you’d ever find a decent job or even graduate in the first place. It is not so funny anymore when you come home from the big city to enjoy your vacation time and you find his sex-shop right in front of the house you grew up in when you were a kid. “If nothing works out I’m just gonna open a sex shop and call it something obnoxious like ‘Dick on the Go’ or something with a stupid zucchini logo flashing on top of the building.” He had said one time. Shit, you had no idea he actually meant it.

🗨️ kinda late to the party— but holy fuck this is insanely good and so funny 🥵😭

⭐When Worlds Collide [ongoing series] @letjungcoook7 [currently loading…] // jjk x f.reader // college!au, slice of life!au, s2l, fuckboy!jk, virgin!reader // 🥵🌩️

📝 since your mother's passing a year ago, life has been a whirlwind. balancing your passion for ballet with a low-key presence at college, where you’re the top student, was your norm until Jungkook stepped into your world. known for his reputation preceding him, jungkook is the talk of the campus with his casual rendezvous that have the girls buzzing. despite his allure, you're puzzled by his need for your tutoring prowess, especially given his own academic merit. yet, succumbing to his persistent requests, you reluctantly agree, only to find yourself thrust into the spotlight you've always avoided.

🗨️ I’m still reading this amazing story (there’s five parts out) and it’s so damn interesting— like, there’s a lot of drama and angst and I really love it🔥

⭐Chasing Cars (teaser) [ongoing series] @oddinary4bts [currently loading…] // jjk x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au, forbidden love!au, college!au, slice of life!au // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

🗨️ only the teaser has been posted (1k words though!) and it is so fucking amazing, like everything Ella writes. The first chapter drops on 10th of May, so please, go read it, add yourself to the taglist, and please let Ella know how excited you are for it! I already know this series is going to be epic ✨💯

⭐Milkin’ Days @wwilloww [3.9k]  // jjk x f.reader // cowboy!au, cowboy stripper!jungkook // 🥵😂😂

📝 when the charming but mysterious cowboy Jungkook approaches you, you are positively smitten, drawn to him like a horse to a fresh bucket of feed. Little did you know, however, what dark secret he kept hidden behind those barn doors.

🗨️ what the fuck did I read??? 🥵 No, no, no— it’s not bad, it’s the darn opposite! I mean, it is so freaking filthy and all the dirty talk and terrible puns about cowboys, farming, gosh, everything, it’s so fucking hilarious!!!!! Seriously, such a funny crack fic, I loved it 😂💜

This month was another tough one for me (mentally) and I also focused a lot more on my writing, which meant that I didn’t get to read as much as I use to 😭 So this list is a bit incomplete, and I’ll put ‘to read’ sections under the members that I didn’t get to read. I hope May will be much better, but some personal shit has already happened to me, and I’m thinking about going on a hiatus, but reading and writing is what keeps me going, so I’ll try to keep going, just a bit slower maybe and give myself more time, and that it’s okay to not go things like I used to 🥹

Thank you for reading— please give these lovely authors a lot of love, read their stories and leave them a comment/reblog to let them know that you liked it and that they matter 🫶

Love you and Borahae 💜

[loaksbitch]

originally jake sully written but made a neteyam ver. let's go let's go.

warnings - size kink, tummy bulging, spitting, breast play kinda, getting your hands held behind you, toruk makto neteyam is enough to be a freaking warning yes? riding, whiny and crying oc, neteyam whimpers like once of twice if you squint, mean neteyam turns to soft neteyam at the end

this is roughly 2k y'all, so idk what to feel about it! reblog + likes are appreciated and not pressured, i love each and every one of you!! mwah. 20ish toruk makto!neteyam

“i’ll make it fit” — neteyam sully ver. (⨳)

you’re finally satisfied with your work, twirling around with a smile. the leaves you made as a sexy cloth that barley covered your body didn’t fail you as you feel something if you churn at the thought of greeting your mate with this

neteyam would be back by the eclipse from the war party and you just can’t wait to show him off about your new creations.

the glowing leaves allover your chest and ghosting your nipples as they reflect their light on your blue striped soft skin. and there’s a web like cloth covering you down there that clearly shows the jewels between your leg.

as the night came on, you couldn’t help but feel nervous and insecurity starts to sip in you.

what if he doesn’t like it? what if he’ll laugh at you? what if— enough! you try to focus on your breath. “it’s gonna turn out good.” you comfort yourself. your ears suddenly perk when you catch a familiar footsteps getting near and near to the hammock you share with your mate and decide to hide quickly

meanwhile you’re hidden, neteyam couldn’t keep feeling instant worries when he didn’t see you at the welcoming session. were you sick? he tried to ask your friends but they just shrugged and said they didn’t see you the whole day

neteyam admits he was pretty excited to see you and waited for you to shower him with kisses to make him feel better and less stressed but no, you weren’t even there.

it was dark when he entered the hammock and frowned, the candles were blown out and everything is neatly set. “princess?” neteyam’s voice was calculated with worries. “i’m home, where are you?”

you’re nervously shuffling from one foot to another. “baby if this is one of your jokes you know i’m tir–“ neteyam’s words get stuck when you come to view. at first he was about to load his gun but the feminine and petite body of yours appears in front of him and your man’s breath hitched at the sight of you

your braids were undone and flawlessly splayed allover your shoulders, his eyes are trained down your body and neteyam curses under his breath as his cock stirs and twitches. the valley between your chest and your two swelled breast shown under the glowing leaves you’re wearing

then his eyes go down to your hip curves and small waist and finally to your thighs that he wants to be choked with. “ma ‘teyam.” your sexy voice makes his ears flatten and he closes his eyes. “fuck princess, what’re you supposed to be doing right now?”

you shyly glance behind him then at him. your eyes widen when the equipments are harshly thrown to the side on the hammock mat and neteyam is walking to you with a burning lust in his eyes

“i’ll just tak…” neteyam’s teeth clash to yours as he shuts you up with toe curling kiss. you can’t even form a word when he’s pulling you by your cheeks and neck desperate to have more of you. you turn your head to the side to take a breath but neteyam takes the chance to leave wet kisses on your neck as he bites and licks the spot, marking you in ways that makes you sigh.

“you didn’t come to welcome me baby,” he says before pressing his forehead to yours while you two take deep breathes from the kiss you’ve shared. “i was searching for you” he slightly pouts making you guilty

“sorry baby, i had to make a welcoming present for you.” he hums with a smile plastered on his face. “this is the best gift ever.” he leans to kiss you as he bends slightly and grip onto your thighs

“jump, pretty girl.” you only giggle before jumping to your mate’s hold. he starts to kiss you and you devilishly mess with his hair. you run your hands through it and grip on his locks hard making neteyam moan into your mouth.

as your body settles to the thick mat of the hammock and neteyam pushes your legs open to settle himself in between them, you start to feel a little too insecure. “i’ve dreamt of this for so long baby, you’ve no idea.” you gulp when he continues

“having you under me, on top of me, in every fucking position with this glowing like loincloth you made allover you.” he tells you softly, his lips pressed on the corner of your lips.

you try to sit up and go along with his kiss but neteyam leans back and pushes you back to the mat, making you huff out. you’re watching every move of his when he starts to trail kisses on your chest.

“nete, jus–“

you moan when his mouth engulfs your perked nipple with his warm mouth and sucks gently. “neteyam, ma ‘teyeam…” you sigh, tiny hands returning to his locks. his other hand is holding the glowing leaves that were covering your breast out of the way before starting to massage your breast well and let your nipple roll between his fingers.

it felt so good that had you arching your back, chest pressing to his face. neteyam leaves your nipple with small ‘pop’ sound and watches how his saliva reflects to glowing leaves lights on your nipple. “stay still baby.” he shifts his attention to the other nipple and starts to slowly tug it with his teeth before putting his whole mouth onto your nipple

“oh eywa!” you sigh.

“princess?” you’re gasping when he’s on top of you and gently smiling. “i want you to touch me too, i want you to show me how i make you feel with your hands, yeah?” you’re only able to nod while your mate is fully clothed and you’re almost naked

“good girl.”

you feel him start to trail a kiss down your stomach a to your navel. once he was in front of your web like fabric that’s covering your pussy, he closes his eyes and takes a breath before using his teeth to slide off the web like loincloth from your body.

you can imagine how his erected cock is begging to be free and looking for attention.

neteyam used his hand to rip off the fabric that’s being a wall from getting what he wanted and deep growl from he chest haves when he sees your arousal creating a thin line and connected to the fabric. oh how he wanted to devour you so bad

the thing is removed from your legs and thrown to the side and neteyam presses your legs wider to see your folds slowly open and your clit throb. oh how your scent is driving him nuts. “you’re so wet.” he says and you’re about to talk before he wraps his mouth on your clit and starts to suck. hard.

“NETEYAM!” you cry out, half of your body jolting up when he tugs on your clit with his teeth. you feel him take a long sniff and moan before plunging his tongue to your hole. “oh mother,” your long moan makes his ego boost and he keeps lapping your juices

your hands are on his locks now, tugging hard and grinding him onto your pussy, but his glare was telling you he wants to drag you there by himself.

your hips risen and gets pressed down with your mate’s large palm below your navel. “let me make you cum.” was the only thing he said before ruining you. his nose grinding onto your throbbing clit while he laps your arousal clean with his tongue fucking you deep.

“ngh..!” you’re now pushing his head away but one strong hand grabs yours and throws it to the side. he’s getting frustrated when you keep pushing him away from making you happiest woman alive.

your chest having up and down was a sign to tell him you’re almost there, and neteyam grins in the middle of tongue fucking you. “that’s it baby, cum for me. cum for your ‘teyam.” and you let go.

back arched, you let go of the bubble in your stomach.

neteyam? he’s so mesmerized by your state and how you’re gushing his face had him completely bricked up right now.

neteyam crawls the mat until he’s your face level and your cheeks redden from the sight. his lips and chin is glistening from your release that shines from the light directly coming out from the moon. neteyam used his arm to wipe your arousal from his face.

he didn’t waste anytime as he unties his loincloth and throw it to the side. your inside clenches at the sight of your man’s cock as it sprang and slaps his stomach before bouncing at the freedom.

it’s veiny and you can’t help but moan when neteyam uses his own hands to bring his cock down and palm himself. “so fucking sexy you are.” he tells you as he stares to your soul, “you drive me insane, everything about you… drives me insane.” he whines when his thumb gilded over his own slit.

“shit, need to be inside you.” at his words you spread your legs wide but frown when neteyam shook his head and got out from in between your legs. “where are you going?” he wasn’t even going anywhere

your confused state follows his actions and neteyam lies beside you on his back and turns to you, tapping you thigh. “c’mere” he pulls you to him and your eyes widen understanding his request. “n-no.” you’re only ignored before you feel yourself being pulled and sat on him.

you’re now straddling him as you’re sat right above his blue throbbing cock. “you’re gonna be so deep like this” you say trying to change his mind but your words only turn him on. “mhm, it’s gonna be okay.”

“‘teyam, it won’t fit…” you persist and try to get up but neteyam pulls you down. “i’ll make it fit.” your inside clenches. “oh,” your mouth opens for a loud moan when neteyam squeezes your ass and split them for his hard and angry tip to enter you.

“swallow me just like that, fuck yeah baby.” you winch every second you welcome him inside you. it’s not like you guys haven’t had sex recently, you both did fuck yesterday morning but he’s so big you’ve to readjust him and take him well every time he fucks in to yo-

“neteyam!” you gasp out when he thrusts upward and chuckles when you slap his chest hard. “you’re so slow, princess and i told ya i need to be inside you.” you whimper when he runs his hand up to your thighs and hips then waist and grips you right there.

you feel his girth kiss the opening of your cervix and your toes curl. “that’s it baby, relax for me” you’re taking deep breath and your man feels your walls relax around him. “arch your back and ride me.” he deadpans

you nod, eyes wide and adjust yourself on top of him enough to lean and use the wooden drawer behind him as a leverage but you instantly let a sharp scream out them neteyam ruts to you up again but this time harder

“nuh-uh princess.” he licks his lips and sighs in between strangled moan. “i said back arched.” his brows are knitted and his face serious. “need you to ride me with your back arched.”

you’re about to curse him before he raise an eyebrow as a warning.

you lick your lips and decide to be a good girl by arching you back and using your hands to support you by placing them on his chest. you’re slow but start to move your hips and neteyam nods while moaning

“yeah that’s it my girl, fuck me just like that.” you can’t even say a word at his praising that are like a pat on your head. your unintentional clench only pushes him to the edge every time you’re moving on top of him.

“you’re so tight.” he tells you with a breathless moan as you raise up and kneel before sinking down his length. “mhm,” you both moan. you’re shuddering above him with every move you make and you try to lean in to him.

“back arched, fuck me back arched princess” he repeats, he’s so gonna be the death of you.

you’re too unfocused to hear him and eventually lean. “fucking little brat.” neteyam hisses before bringing his body up and kneeling as you’re sat on his strong thighs while he’s inside you

you feel him bring both of your hands to your back and holds them both with one hand while the other lands on your waist and pushes you to his chest. you’re now bent in half, breast pressed to him and hands held behind you

you close your eyes tight when you feel neteyam so much deeper than before and you’re sure you can feel your tummy bulged out with his cock like that.

“look at me.”

you didn’t think twice before opening your yellow eyes and look straight to his. “not gonna tell you again or imma have to break you alright?” his tone is serious. “you ride me with your back arched got it?” you’re awfully silent but yelp as he tugs your hands that’s behind you

“yes!” you gasp but he wasn’t buying your whining self. “yes what?” he huffs “yes! yes sir” your forehead is sweating and you let a relieved sigh out when he loosens his grip on yours but doesn’t completely lets you go

with your back arched, you start to bounce on his dick and hear him mutter sweet nothings to your ear. “ma ‘teyam”, you’re whimpering at this point, tears threatening to fall.

you moan while neteyam leans and boldly licks your mouth and starts to thrust, wildly moving his hips. “n-no wait don’t move!”

you’re trying to free your hand to push him away but neteyam only tightens his hands on your small ones. “trying to escape now, are we?” his chest roars with a chuckle. “you think i’ll let you go right after you greet me with that slutty cloth of yours?” you feel him nudge your nose with his.

“mhm?” you shake your head, “no s-sir…oh mother eywa!” you keep gasping for air while neteyam keeps kissing you. you try to turn your face away from him but his one hand comes to grip your jaw at a place. “stop turning away from my love to you.” he’s so romantic yet wicked.

neteyam ruts to you while ruining you and he leans back to see where you both are connected, your skin slapping and squelching sound helps him get near his orgasm. with one last look at your face, neteyam sucks onto his own mouth and collect a glob of spit

you’re whining messy when his spit directly hits your exposed clit, “ma ‘teyam...” you cry out and by the sound you’re letting out and your erratic movement he knew you’re close

“let it out, baby.” he smiles as he fucks into you. “cum for me” you wanted to tell him at least to stop when you’re cumming but his tortures can’t even let you think of a word, your brain is completely mushed.

you gush out on his cock and neteyam throws his head back when he feels you milk him good. “oh fuck fuck fuck i’m close.”

you watch him with blurry eyes and black dots covering your vision as your body keeps jolting.

“tell me you love me baby.” his harsh breath hits your lips when he pressed his forehead against yours. “tell me you love me so fucking much hm?”

“i- i lov…i love you” you’re gasping for air and neteyam closes his eyes a happy smile stretching his lips. “i love you more, i love you so fucking much” you feel his hand that was holding your hand being you let’s you go and you instantly wrap your hands on his neck

“‘m sorry i hurt you princess.” neteyam says, tucking your hair behind your ear and you just nod too tired to talk back. “i’m gonna cum” his eyes flatten and he whispers. “cum for me” you tell him and he obeys

it was his last push when you said that word and neteyam shoots ropes of cum inside you. “you’re tiny and adorable when you struggle against me” he growls trying to recover from his orgasm

“and you looked beautiful tonight.” you giggle and shy yourself away from him. “hm, no look at me when i tell you how amazing you’re.” he kisses your nose.

“i love you” he whispers still inside you. “i love you too.” you kiss him.

neteyam rolls his eyes at your confession, “don’t say ‘too’ it feels like you’re just agreeing with me to feel good.” he’s so dramatic sometimes, “fine, i love you more.” neteyam suddenly gives you a hard thrust and you whine. “‘teyam i’m sore!” you tell him

“hm, sorry but i love you most and you know that.”

you don’t fight back at this point, you just agree and tell him to clean you up and go to bed.

sprinkles pandora’s holy water on y’all thirsty bitches out there who’s twinning with me 👯‍♂️

[shibaraki]

TO BUILD A HOME ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO

synopsis: todoroki shouto is the ideal roommate. he is tidy, quiet, considerate, and one of your dearest friends. you almost wished he were a tactless slob. it would certainly make navigating your feelings for him easier.

tags: GN reader, friends to lovers, pro hero shouto, quirk support engineer reader, living together (and they were roommates!), mutual pining, fluff, alcohol, other character interactions, domesticity, jealous shouto, a little angst, minor oc, love confessions, making out + frottage

wc: 14K+

a/n: I wrote a little bonus sequel for this au about their first date which you can read here !! [+4K]

Shouto’s home strikes a dissonant note with you.

You’re a statuesque centrepiece in his living room, staring out his tall standing windows, paneled wall to wall and making for a beautiful view of the city. There’s a soft shine to it, iridescent from corner to corner. A privacy film to block any view into the apartment from the outside, you’re guessing.

Despite your closeness you’ve never had reason to visit until now. There’s far too much space for one man, you think. Jarringly, it’s as if you’ve stepped into a studio display. A picture perfect bachelor pad— but really, what bachelor pad needed three family sized bedrooms?

It feels awfully lonely.

Shouto heaves the last of your boxes onto the kitchen island with ease. The muscles in his arms flex under his loose shirt, fabric briefly tightening. Unfair, you think. He hasn’t even broken a sweat.

Back straightening, you watch Shouto roll back his shoulder and rub at the joint. The movement causes the hem to lift and flash a pale swath of skin, his shorts hung low on his hips. The weight in your arms is somehow heavier with his eyes turned onto you.

“You can set it down,” he says, his tone full of warm mirth. The disbelief must be written plain on your face. Your fingers tighten on the corners as he walks over. Tilting his head, the red strands that have been haphazardly pushed back into white slip over his forehead. You watch his gaze dart over the label scribbled onto the card that reads ‘toiletries’.

“I know. I’m just…” your jaw shifts and you swallow, a frown etched into your brow. “I don’t know. Got a little lost in my thoughts”.

“Feel free to change whatever you like,” his mouth curls into a small smile, scar wrinkling by his eye. You are taken by just how happy he looks to have you here. Shouto seemed the type to appreciate his own space. “I want you to be comfortable”.

“Whatever I like?” you echo teasingly, shucking the box up in your embrace and bumping his shoulder. “Famous last words. Maybe I’ll decide to renovate your other guest room into a mini workshop”.

Shouto exhales a quiet laugh. The air around him is displaced by an ephemeral wave of heat that seeps through your sweater; it cools back to room temperature as quick as it came.

“I wouldn’t oppose it,” he says, and your breath catches. Reaching to poke at the box, he adds, “Do you want me to help you unpack?”

You begin to shake your head. “No, no. I can do all that, don’t worry,” you demurred nervously.

“It wouldn’t be a problem”.

Memories of all the things you managed to salvage in the wreck flicker across your mind's eye. Mugs and plates, a few clothes, oil stained tools and various other inappropriate things you’d rather die than have him accidentally discover.

But he’s staring at you like a restless puppy. You relent, “Maybe you can put away the kitchen stuff then”.

After Shouto retreats you are left adrift to navigate the narrow corridors. The room he directs you to has the biggest guest bed and it shares a wall with his own room. You shuffle in, processing your surroundings. Your linens are freshly washed, tucked in tight at the corners, and they smell like him.

You lower another box on top of the bed and sit by the headboard. The mattress yields. Admittedly it is much more comfortable than your old bed used to be. Soft, you sink into a foamy embrace, smoothing a hand over the matching pillowcases, then reaching up to the shared accent wall.

Reality has hardly set in for you yet. It’s been four days since you lost your home, most of your earthly possessions along with it, and the life you had spent years building. The villain that managed to frisbee a car through your living room had been apprehended but not before destroying half the city block.

Shouto immediately volunteered his own place. You have been close friends for years now, having met during your second year at UA as a support course student. You’d worked with Yaomomo on redesigning her costume for your portfolio and managed to worm your way into their quaint friend group.

Your initial crush on him all that time ago burgeoned into something you’re too anxious to put a name to. When he first suggested you live with him while the city fixed everything you’d wanted to refuse. So far lack of proximity has been your only saving grace.

But you really had nowhere else suitable to stay. A hotel would be too costly in the long run. Your other friends are scattered across different prefectures and those who are in the city are too far from work.

Shouto practically sparkled when you agreed, plucked right out of a shoujo manga.

You remember this as your fingers curled into a loose fist and gave the wall a quiet knock. All the tension accumulated in your shoulders relaxes at the dull sound. “Atleast it isn’t thin,” you mused.

There’s a large closet adjacent to the bed, deep enough that you could crawl inside comfortably. Windows that stretch above your head and overlook the busy streets. You notice that same iridescent sheen, alongside a large blind connected to the control pad fixed by your doorway. They roll down as you fiddle and remind you of those old school projectors from the pre quirk era.

The walls are almost entirely bare. Your imagination drifts to the countless books and photo albums you managed to bring, envisioning them taking up the empty space. It makes you wonder what Shouto’s room looks like. You squash that thought.

When you rejoin him he stands with his back to you, blades shifting under the material as he plays with a small round object held between his fingers. Closing the distance you realise it is one of your stress balls.

His expression is entirely relaxed, bright with a little child-like satisfaction. He pulls at the flexible rubber, rolling it under his thumbs, flattening in between his palms. Your novelty mugs are lined up in the open cupboard right beside his own, entirely forgotten.

As not to startle him you call out gently, “Hey”.

Your voice stalls his movement. Shouto pivots and meets your eyes; they widen as you laugh, amused by his forced nonchalance. He clears his throat, “Hi. Are you happy with the room?”

Humming an affirmative, you sidle up next to him and poke at the ball. “It’s fine, thank you. Nicer than my old place”.

Redirecting his attention to the ball, he squeezes it so hard the foamy rubber protrudes through the gaps in his fingers and lets go, smiling as it retains its original shape. “I liked your old apartment,” he murmurs. “It suited you”.

“Because I’m a mess, you mean?” drawn back into Shouto’s orbit, you lean against his left side. He mirrors your weight until you are like two pillars braced against one another, standing uselessly in the middle of his obviously unused kitchen. Your heart aches recalling all those nights he spent at the agency doing unnecessary overtime. Maybe he just hadn’t wanted to come back here.

“No,” Shouto huffs lightly, passing the ball hand to hand. He doesn’t elaborate. Instead he bumps you with his hip, “Come with me. I’ll give you a tour so you know where everything is”.

You are guided back to the genkan; it’s gorgeous, modernised with a calligraphy feature wall that breaks up the light colours. There is a narrow door leading to a coat room and two white cabinets under a granite countertop housing a small decorative bowl painted in Deku’s colours. Inside are your keys and his, the chains entangled.

Very quickly you realise Shouto doesn’t even know where ‘everything’ is. He opens the cupboard doors hesitantly, in a way that suggests he had no idea what is in them. One filled by his shoes and slippers, the other left empty.

The coat closet holds a few jackets you only ever see him wear in winter. He pinches the waterproof puffy sleeve between finger and thumb with a curious sound. Quietly, “I forgot that I had this”.

“You wore it once and Bakugo said you looked like an ugly toasted marshmallow”.

“That’s right,” a smirk pulls at his lips, mouth thin to restrain his laughter. You dip your chin to hide how infectious it is. “He hated it. Maybe I should take it with me tomorrow and wear it around the agency”.

“Please don’t. He’s coming to see me later in the day and I need him in a good mood”.

Shouto glances at you from the corner of his eye, sunlight reflecting through the blue iris. You would recognise that air of mischief anywhere. “I mean it, Shouto!”

“The day after, then”.

“As long as I’m not in the line of fire,” you snort, itching absentmindedly at your forearm where the skin feels tender. Probably bruising after carrying everything up. “Antagonising Pro Heroes should be listed as a hobby on your wiki page”.

You fall in line with his footsteps once more and keep pace until he stops by another door. There’s a laundry room and a separate toilet by the genkan, first door to the right. Upon opening the door the white toilet lid lifts.

You gasp and clutch his bicep, far too excitable to register how firm it is. “You never told me you have a happy toilet. What the hell, Shouto?”

Still nestled in his palm, you notice Shouto squeezes the stress ball until the foam is straining under the stretchy skin but you say nothing of it. He swallows and echoes your words, “A happy toilet?”

“Yeah, ‘cause it's happy to see you! Isn’t it cute?”

He turns with his cheek between his teeth, exhaling a warm puff of air through his nose. “Yeah,” Shouto rasps. “It’s cute”.

The entrance leads to a hallway, opening at the end to an open plan living area and kitchen. A black and white palette, dark stained wood flooring from room to room. You stand by and watch fondly as he opens every half empty drawer. The sectional couch is a welcome splash of colour— deep royal blue, huge, L shaped and plush, facing a 60 inch TV held up by a cabinet with a few books and photographs inside.

You toe at the fluffy grey rug laid out under the coffee table. His place is spectacular, sure, but it isn’t Shouto. While left unspoken it seemed you both knew that. There’s an abashed pinch to his expression that’s endearing, yet sad; you thought he might be embarrassed by how threadbare his home life appeared to be.

“You ever use that thing?” you ask, pointing to the TV. Predictably, Shouto shakes his head.

“Not very much. These days it feels like I only come here to sleep,” he leans over to pick up the remote from between the cushions and balances it on the arm of the couch. “Every few months Uraraka and Midoriya will visit to order food and watch movies with me. You can use it whenever you want”.

The bathroom is opposite your bedroom doors. He taps his own in passing but does not open it. You step into a bright, white tiled room with a double vanity sink and murmur in awe. Above are ceiling lights that give a soft glow, giving it a warm toned hue. Behind a glass door is a bowl shaped bathtub, big enough to fit two.

“Damn…” you whisper, running your fingers over the control pad connected to the tub. There’s a big bath cover propped by the wall. “A sauna button, too?”

“Not that I need it,” he muses, standing by the doorway, hands loosely interlocked as he observes you navigating his space. Intuitively, you get the sense that this is the beginning of a true paradigm shift. His offer had been the fork in the road and your agreement took you down a path soon to be irreversible.

You could survive seeing him at work or out with the mutual friends you shared. You’re not sure how you’ll weather the domesticity that comes with living together.

The reflection in the mirror shifts awkwardly and you grimace at how hard you’re trying to act like a normal human being. This is just Shouto: your good friend and longtime supporter. Just the man you might possibly be in love with.

“We should probably talk about ground rules and stuff,” you begin, hoping it’ll wipe that gentle look off his face before you say something stupid.

“Ground rules?” Shouto pushes off from the door frame with his back straight. He tilts his head, sight following you closely as you scoot past him back into the hallway.

“Like a chore rota and stuff. Rules so we can live in harmony or something. And you still need to let me know how much I’m paying you”.

“But I don’t want you to”.

You pause mid step and turn to stare at him in soft incredulity. “Why not? It’s only right I contribute”.

Steadfast, he holds your gaze and bluntly says, “I have a higher income than you. There’s no need for you to pay me rent”.

“Way to rub it in”.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you laugh at the rare wobble to his voice and knock your hands together as a sign of forgiveness. His eyes squint into a smile. “It just feels unfair for me to ask that of you”.

The hallway falls dim as clouds gather, casting shadows that make the private bubble you’re in seem that much smaller. “But I want to,” you reassured him. “Come on— forty percent?”

“Thirty”.

You hold out three fingers up on the right and five on the left. You try again, “Thirty five?”

“Thirty,” he doubles down, covering the entirety of your left hand with his own. You feel his thumb skim your inner wrist and your resolve breaks.

“…Fine”.

Shouto grins boyishly and you do not acknowledge the flutter in your stomach.

The first few days are cautious despite your desire to behave as normal. At night you found yourself acutely aware of Shouto’s presence behind the bedroom wall. Your senses latched onto every muted bump and creak; the quiet drew thoughts you so valiantly avoided the surface and you could do nothing besides parse through them.

It made sleeping difficult.

You’d wondered if Shouto was having the same issue but the drowsy gait and hair plastered to one side of his head only ever spoke of a good night's rest. He wears loose silk pyjama pants to bed, low on his hips and an inch or so longer at the leg so they always caught under his heel as he walked.

Seeing him relaxed and fumbling like a fawn before his morning tea felt as if a big star was fizzing in your chest. It’s strange, in a tentative way, not an uncomfortable one.

The dust settles and a chore rota is scribbled out on a white board and pinned to the refrigerator with a worn All Might magnet. Your hours are less hectic so you offered to do the weekly shopping. Shouto volunteers for the laundry— his sister set the machines up for him when he first moved and he hasn’t moved the dials since— and taking out the garbage. Together you build a precariously clumsy peace, a mimicry of home.

Things started to change.

A kaleidoscope can take on an entirely new pattern with just the subtle turn of the lense. Weeks lapse. You stopped asking for permission and he no longer sought reassurance that you were happy. Existing parallel to one another, your lives fit seamlessly, though not without effort.

You’ve never known him to be a tactile type of guy— back when you rushed to hug him at graduation he’d brandished his diploma like a weapon before noticing it was you. Now, Shouto playfully hip checks you in the kitchen, he sits closer than he needs to on the couch and texts you at random throughout the day. He brings you a treat if his route overlaps your commute, keeping it hot in his left hand. He even greets you by the door on the rare occasion he finishes a shift first.

Your heart is fatter than ever and you aren’t quite sure what to do with it or where to put it down. After the city has rebuilt your apartment block and deemed it safe you’ll be returning to a normal you don’t recognise anymore.

You’re finalising the upgrade for Dynamite’s summer gauntlets when your phone buzzes on your bench. The vibration carries it closer to the edge and you scoop it up before the inevitable fall, cursing at the oil smeared around the case. The screen lights up.

shouto : 1 minute ago

There’s an image attached with no explanation. You are met with the open skyline, dense clouds of every shape and size dotted across a blue canvas. Shouto’s arm is in the shot, finger pointed towards one cloud in particular.

You squint at it. Zoom in on your phone, tilt it to the side, flip it in the editor and outline it— and nothing rings a bell. It’s a white blob. 

Another notification drops down at the top of your screen. You wipe your hand against your overalls and open it. 

shouto : just now 

ヾ(=^・ｪ・^)

Your nose wrinkles as you glance back to the photo. Granted, it does have two pointed edges that could be interpreted as cat ears if you squinted. Maybe. This isn’t new — he burned his toast three days ago and took a picture simply because it looked vaguely feline. 

you : delivered 

aren’t u supposed to be on patrol? 

The message turns to ‘read’ quicker than expected. You panic and click off the conversation, setting the phone face up on your workbench and reading from your locked screen. Lately, despite living together and seeing one another every day, Shouto seems to have more to say to you than ever. 

shouto : just now

Divine intervention. We should get a cat. 

The use of ‘we’ pings around your head like a pinball. Ever since the initial dubitation smoothed out he's become much more flippant about things— treating your situation as though it were permanent. 

An intern shuffles into the workshop with a thick binder. Not one of yours, you realise. One of Mei’s. They blink curiously as your phone buzzes again, loud where it clatters on the hard surface, and you bite down on your inner cheek, hard, keeping your feelings at bay. 

When handed the papers you breathe in recognition. They’ve been coordinated into two groups, and you’d know that logo anywhere. “The costume applications for the upcoming UA students! I wondered why they hadn’t come in yet”. 

“Yes, for 1A and 1B. Hatsume-san said these ended up on her desk,” they said, gesticulating nervously, “and that I— I should give them to you?”

“Well If not for you I’m sure these would’ve ended up buried under all her discarded prototypes,” you demurred, offering what you hoped was a reassuring smile. “Thank you”. 

Abruptly, your phone gives another violent jerk and disrupts the moment. The intern squeaks, rigidity returning to her posture, and scurries out with a rushed goodbye. You sink into your arms, forehead pressed to the cool metal. Surely you aren’t that scary.

Turning the screen, you read the texts and sigh fondly.  

shouto : 4 minutes ago

An older cat would be nice. 

shouto : just now

Should we order tonight? 

My treat. 

Your gaze lifts to find the time at the top of the screen. It blinks back at you, the hour changing. Not long until you can head out. 

you : delivered 

it isn’t a treat for me if it’s more cold soba. give me variety or give me death (งಠ_ಠ)ง

The cursor flickers. Your thumb hovers over the keyboard, hesitating on the final letter. Something so minor that feels bigger than it has any right to be. 

“Stop being ridiculous,” you mutter, sending it before your mind can change. 

you : read 

be safe ok? I’ll see you at home. 

When he doesn’t reply you figure he’s returned to his job, thus you return to yours. 

Dynamite was once again trusting you with his gear. Bakugo had been extraordinarily protective over his initial design in highschool. Great bulbous things strapped to each wrist, grenade-like appearance, so big that his arms became pendulous and swung away from his body as he walked. The shoulder strain was immense. 

You fought tooth and nail to get him to accept your adjustments. Now every summer you remodelled the gauntlets to be lighter and ventilated, and in winter you added in insulation and flexibility. 

Respectively, the gauntlets still weigh a lot without additional stored nitroglycerin. You lift, bending at the knees and groaning as you lower them both down into a protective case, slotting into foam padding for protection. No doubt they’d end up rough on the first day but you still wanted them to arrive without a scratch. 

Evening draws near. Closing the lid, it gives a satisfying click. You fiddle with the lock pad and calibrate it to open only for Bakugo’s thumb print before lugging the case to the built-in vault in your workshop, where it’ll be kept over the weekend. 

Mei’s lab is directly opposite your own. Despite the dense soundproofing and reinforced steel concrete the jarring screech of a saw echoes throughout the hallway. You press your hand to the towering door, muscle fibres wracked by vibrations. Bidding her goodbye would be futile— she’s been working on a new patent for months now. The rest of the world fell away when she got like this. 

Heading through to the main lobby, you greet those passing by with a nod, exchanging hurried words. It was always as though time didn’t exist here. People worked all hours, any hours. Flexibility was a point of pride for your company, and seeing someone eat breakfast after midnight wasn’t uncommon. 

You preferred a regular schedule. Routine keeps you moderately sane. A cool breeze gusts through the sliding doors as you duck into the street; you hiss at the immediate change in temperature. Patting down your coat pockets you dig out your phone, sending a one-handed text to Shouto while you slip in your earbuds. 

Cacophonous bustling of the streets now muffled, you scroll through a playlist and click at random. An upbeat melody carries you to the station, scooting through the throngs of people and tapping your card at the barriers. 

You pick up the pace, scurrying onto the train right before the doors close. A stranger glares, looking over your dishevelled state with judgement. You find a narrow corner, left standing on the far end of the carriage, squashed up against the window to make room for other passengers. 

Conscious about the volume. you turned down your music a tad and sank into the confines of your coat. Shouto’s apartment is miraculously closer than your old one, meaning the commute is much shorter, and your time spent in bed is much longer. Three stops pass and the sky begins to bruise. Purple hues blend gently into red, the sun a fiery hearth on the seam of the horizon that blinks abruptly between the passing buildings. 

When you reach home Shouto still hasn’t texted back. You bend to arrange your shoes, coat hung beside his terrible winter puffer. The floor is cold under socked feet, pottering through to the living room in search of the TV remote. 

You flinch as the newscaster's voice blurts out of the speakers. Shouto must have left it on the news channel this morning. Watching the scene unfold on the screen you feel your heart climb your throat. 

Shouto is a hero— a number of your friends are. Villain fights are not only inevitable, they’re a requirement. The truth of it doesn’t make reality any easier to swallow. Uravity is a welcome sight. She’s fighting diligently alongside Shouto, up against multiple villains seemingly working in tandem to destroy the area. 

You always thought villains were a good example of how versatile and powerful even the most innocuous quirks can be. Topspin can morph their limbs into a whirling top, and with years of training has gained the ability to form small tornados using momentum. Another you recognise is Cryo, a woman capable of making her body intangible similarly to Lemillion— though she is able to freeze you temporarily if she phases through your body. 

There are others, too. Criminals you don’t recognise. It’s been a long time since a big group tried to organise in this manner. You worry at your lip, bracing against the back of the couch for support. What you find most concerning is they don’t seem to have a goal. Just mass destruction, plain and simple. 

“Come on,” you think anxiously, nails digging into the cushion as you watch Shouto brace a falling building with his ice, creating an emergency slide for those left inside to escape. You’ve always marvelled at his parallel processing skills— Deku, too. Their thoughts must be running a million miles a second. 

The cameras switch to highlight the other heroes and you realise you’ve been holding your breath. You exhale, physically deflating, feeling the weight of your phone in your pants pocket. Clean up would take a while once the battle is won; curry night is off the table. 

That’s fine. You could forgive it as long as he came back in one piece. 

Evening sinks into night. Shouto comes home after you’ve retired to your bed, though you aren’t asleep yet; you took to staring at the ceiling, waiting for a call from the hospital that you hoped wouldn’t come. 

The distant sound of his boots hitting the floor has relief flooding through your system. You strain to listen as he makes his way through the apartment, deliberately quiet. You hear him head straight to the bathroom. The echo of running water muffles after the door closes with a soft click. 

You check your phone once more, scanning over the recent updates and not finding much. You consider leaving him alone. Villain fights are hard on the body and the heart. Shouto likes space to process things before he speaks on them, and so you don't want to overstep. 

That sentiment dissipates steadily. Five minute intervals that feel like hours. Shouto is in the bathroom for a long, long time. You are seated on the edge of your bed with the covers pulled back when he finally comes out. 

Warm light streams beneath your doorway. Muscles clenched, you daren’t move an inch as a stretch of shadow moves across. Shouto stands outside your room and you stare, silently urging him to knock and give you an excuse. 

After a beat, Shouto turns away. He flicks off the bathroom light and shuffles down the hallway, away from his own bedroom. Your feet tentatively touch the floor and you slide off the bed with hands held out, careful not to knock into any furniture on the way. 

Goose pimples raise across your forearms. You’re in sleep shorts and a ratty old shirt on a cool spring night. No wind and no clouds, the moon hung high and bright. You have never seen the city so eerily still at this hour. 

The air always retains the warmth of his body for a while, and you feel it lingering when you step into the hallway. 

Voice kept to a whisper, you softly called for him, “Shouto?” 

You find him sitting in the middle of the couch. The blinds are up, moonlight flooding in. Shouto is a solid silhouette outlined in white. 

“Did something happen?” 

The fight ended up dragging on for a while, so you’re in the dark. Details about casualties were steadily being released to news outlets as the heroes dug through the remaining rubble. You’ve yet to hear of any deaths, civilian or otherwise, which is a relief. 

He lifts his head, “I’m fine. Sorry if I woke you”. 

“You didn’t,” Shouto’s gaze follows as you shuffle towards him, footfalls loud on the hardwood floor. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

The silence is suffocating. Your vision adjusts to the darkness, stuck on the downturn of his mouth and pallid eyes. “We’re friends right? Friends share their burdens,” you try again, awkwardness leaking out with every syllable. “I’m here for you”. 

He looks away. There’s a dark, disquieting bruise blooming on his jaw. Subconsciously, Shouto presses a finger onto the bruise and the blood beneath it recedes, paling and returning like the tide. 

You don’t sit too close— worried proximity might be suffocating. The couch arm is firm under you, feet propped on the seat cushion. Shouto wets his lips, as if to alleviate the gravity of his words. 

“A group of school children were in the theatre when it collapsed,” he rasps. His hand curls into a tight fist, sparks of fire diminishing between his knuckles. “They were young. No older than ten”. 

“You blame yourself”. 

Turning to you, light casts softly across half of his face, pooling in his left eye. “I was a second too late and now—” he stops, the words caught in his throat. 

“Because of my mistakes those children are stuck with the traumatic memory of being trapped under all that rubble. I... I could hear them screaming”. 

You gulp and slide down onto the couch, guided by the urge to touch him, “Hey. But you got them out safely, yeah? They’re okay, Shouto”. 

His eyes crinkle a bit, if only a trick of your own, and you take it as permission to reach over. One by one you unfurl each finger, massaging your thumbs into his palm to smooth away the crescent marks. 

“We got them out,” he amends quietly, taking a brief pause to find the right words. You spend it appreciating the nicks in his skin, scars and rough edges, proof of his tenacity.

Shouto closes his hand around your own, staring dolefully at the point where your bodies meet. You see it for what it is— a request for comfort — and your palms kiss as you realign your fingers, holding on tight. 

“You know what I think?” 

He hums, curiously peering up through his damp bangs. 

“Those kids? They won’t just remember the bad stuff,” you smile, as tender as you feel, “I think they’ll remember how at ease they felt when Hero Shouto opened the way with his ice to save them. And now they know a hero will always come”. 

The strain bleeds from his bones and his expression opens up in quiet wonderment. “Really?” he asks, his voice small, mouth finally curling. Your heart gives a squeeze. 

“Really,” you affirm, knocking your knees together. Shouto’s smile widens, chin tucking to hide it. “Are you hurt anywhere?” 

“No. Just bruised up,” he says. An idea clicks into place. 

“Good. I’ve got something we can do to make you feel better,” you scramble to your feet, weight shifting as Shouto’s stare lingers on your bare legs. It feels as though the moon is casting a spotlight, and you resist the urge to pull your shorts down. 

“What is it?” 

“Mug cake!” you exclaim happily, bringing your hands together. Adding an afterthought, “and a movie, too. One you haven’t seen yet”. 

Shouto tilts his head, amused, but stands with you all the same. You notice then that he's changed into a pair of sweatpants, cuffed at the ankles. The t-shirt he’s wearing has a Pinky logo branded across his chest in bubble font. 

“Mug cake?” he repeats. 

“Cake in a mug,” you ribbed, poking at him. You start toward the kitchen. “Come on, it’ll only take like five minutes, tops!” 

“Do we have cake ingredients?” he muses, following close behind. You flick on the recessed light over the stove and root through the cupboards, trying to ignore the natural warmth of his body beside yours. 

“We have everything,” you insist. “I would know. I do the shopping, remember?” 

Hovering unnecessarily close by, Shouto leans back against the counter and observes you with fondness as you list off the ingredients under your breath. It shouldn’t be so magnetising— you can feel something in your chest being drawn in, as though you were two unlike poles meant to come together. 

Meeting his gaze, you look away and try to tame your giddiness. “Quit staring and find me two big mugs”. 

You breathe a little easier when he does as you ask. Two large ceramic mugs are placed on the counter— a hideously priced vintage All Might mug gifted by Midoriya, another with cat ears on the rim and a tail curled into the handle. 

“Will these do?” he murmurs. You startle at the closeness of his voice, nearly dropping the teaspoon in your hand. 

“Yeah,” you clear your throat. “Yep. Thank you”.

He nods, satisfied. “Tell me what else to do”. 

You grab another teaspoon and hand it to him. The joy in his eyes gleams, so pleased at the opportunity to help. “First we need to put four teaspoons of flour and caster sugar in our mugs, then add two teaspoons of the cocoa powder. You follow?” 

Shouto mirrors each action, always glancing back to your movements to check he was doing so correctly. It is unbearably endearing. 

“Now we add an egg in each— one sec,” the fridge light bursts through the dimly lit kitchen, and you squint, grabbing two eggs from the tray. You give him an egg. “Now crack it into the mug and stir”. 

You’ve ended up with the All Might mug. Using it is nerve wracking; all you can think of is how expensive it was, but the cat mug is Shouto’s clear favourite. Gently, you tap the egg on the counter. A hairline fracture forms on the shell. You push your thumbs in, prying it apart over the mix, letting the whites drizzle. 

Shouto is… faring well enough. There’s clear viscous liquid all over his fingers, and his shell is broken in three, but the yolk made it in. 

You laugh quietly at his sheepish expression as you pass him some tissue. He wipes his hands, leaning to observe while you add three teaspoons of milk and vegetable oil. “Where did you learn to make these?” 

“During my apprenticeship,” you admit. Graduation hadn’t led to immediate incredible offers like it had for Shouto. You needed to get your foot in the door first, which meant working awful hours with shit pay and little recognition. “I was trying to save up back then, so I ate a lot of crap like this”. 

“I’ve never tried it,” he says, repeating the steps as you had shown him. Your fingers brush with a pass of the milk. “I wasn’t allowed treats as a child so I guess I didn’t develop much of a sweet tooth”. 

“That’s just like you,” you grin, tearing open the bag of chocolate chips and shaking them in his direction. “Always gotta drop depressing lore in the middle of a nice moment”. 

The truth about the Todoroki family had been outed during your first year, right before the war. It’s a subject Shouto can joke about now that time has mostly healed over those wounds. Granted, his relationship with his father was cautious at best, and his older brother was locked away in a private facility for a good few decades, but things were better. 

“Did you hear me?”

You blink, startled out of your reverie, “What?”

“I said I have plenty more material but you zoned out,” Shouto raised a brow, dipping into the bag of chocolate chips and sprinkling them over his cake mix, “Where did you go?”

“Ah…” you take his mug and set it beside yours inside the microwave, turning the dial to the two minute mark. “I was just thinking I kinda want to kick your dad’s ass”. 

Your heart leaps. You will never be sick of Shouto’s laugh; it’s like hearing his soul. The sound is rich and warm over the loud hum, glass plate turning, mixture bubbling. 

“Don’t worry about that,” the laughter tapers off into an affectionate murmur, body naturally leaning into you, “he’s been kicking himself for years now”. 

“Good—!” the microwave pings, and your soul jumps out of your skin. “Jesus. Why is it always so much louder at night?” 

The mugs are still hot. You press a kiss to your stinging fingertips and step aside; Shouto takes each cake out one at a time with this left hand wrapped around the mug. “Show off,” you pout. 

A sweet aroma fills your senses. They’ve risen well. You lightly scratch the top with your spoon, pleased by the firmness. “We did pretty good,” you chirped. 

“Smells good,” Shouto notes, cradling his mugcake to his chest as though something precious. “Are we watching a movie?”

“Yeah. Let’s pick while it’s still hot”. 

You cast a fleeting look at the counter before you walk around the kitchen island, putting the minor mess to the back of your mind. Bouncing back onto the couch, you run your free hand down the cushions in search of the remote. 

“Where’s the—” Shouto sits to your right and passes it to you. “Did you pull that out of thin air?” 

“Yes. I have a third quirk called ‘remembering where I put things’,” he grins, dodging the half hearted swat you send his way.  

“You’re a real comedian. Just for that I’m picking what I want to watch”. 

Infuriatingly, Shouto looks happy about that, “You know what I’d like anyway”. 

In the end you choose Ponyo because he had not yet watched it— a fact you deemed criminal. You watch his expressions soften at the vibrant scenery, idly pushing the tip of his spoon into the cake. He scoops out a piece and brings it to his lips. 

You try not to beam when he visibly freezes, eyes widening with his spoon held in his mouth. Slowly, Shouto starts to chew. He makes a happy little hum. Three words crossed your mind, travelled down to your heart and diffused throughout your body. You feel them restless in the tips of your fingers. You don’t say them. 

Only then do you let yourself eat yours. The spoon sinks into the sponge, a faint waft of heat bursting from the centre where the chocolate chips have melted. It’s just the right side of fluffy. 

Comfortable silence hung over your heads, masked under the clinking of your spoons against the mugs. 

After the soft thud of an empty mug meeting the table, breaking through the quiet, Shouto speaks. 

“Bakugo mentioned you today,” he says. “Asked me to pass on a message”. 

You hum to indicate that you’re listening. “He said ‘hurry the fuck up or kiss my sponsorship goodbye’, verbatim”. 

“I’m not sure I like those words coming out of your mouth,” you laugh, shoulders shaking with it. Shouto tips his head back, lips twisted to hold laughter of his own. “What a bullshitter”. 

Bakugo liked working with you too much to pull out. Even if he didn’t, the man was a hard nut to crack and refused to trust anyone else with his gear. 

“Are you almost done? Working on his gauntlets, I mean”. 

“They’re finished,” you responded, cheek resting on the heel of your hand. Shouto repositions his hips, turning his body to face you in your periphery while you watch Sousuke and Ponyo eat ramen. “Good and ready for the summer. Now he won’t level half the city when he sneezes”. 

“Thank you for your hard work,” comes his mirthful reply. “Oh, and Uraraka says hello. She wants you to go to the get together tomorrow night”. 

“You know I haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about, right?” 

He huffed a laugh through his nose. A soft sound that has satisfaction singing through your veins. “I wasn’t planning on going so I forgot to mention it”. 

You run your tongue along your molars. There’s still a lingering chocolate taste. “You aren’t going to go?” you ask, tone trended downwards, plainly implying your disappointment. It wouldn’t be so odd. While you’d befriended Momo and some of class B before ever meeting Shouto, you’re not sure you want to be there without him. 

“I will go if you do,” he eyes the way your shoulders relax at that, attentive to a fault. “They can pick on you instead of me”. 

You roll your eyes with exasperated affection and arms crossed over your middle. “Tomorrow?” mhm. “Is it at that place Denki likes?” mhm. “Thought it might be. Guess I can be your buffer for a few hours”. 

“I’ll let them know,” Shouto murmurs. Colour dances across his skin, shadows moving with the picture on the screen. Ponyo dunks her head into the depths alongside Sosuke and the room is suddenly awash with vibrant blue, and you witness an unwelcome epiphany cross his mind. 

Stated like a huffy accusation, he says, “You know, you’ve worked on most of my friends gear, but never mine”. 

“You never asked,” you reminded him. “And you had connections in my industry already because of your… Endeavor. But I would’a jumped at the chance to get rid of that first costume you designed”. 

Cheek pressed to the cushion, he smiles. “What, was the glacier too much?” 

“It was so ugly Shouto,” you bemoan, leaning closer with your dramatic outburst. “The worst part was it covered up half of your pretty face. Now that’s just bad for branding”.

A soft intake of breath. Shouto’s lips part and you are caught in his awestruck stare. His voice deepens as he asks, “You think I’m… pretty?” 

You swallow and muster up an easy grin, nudging his thigh with your foot. “Everyone thinks you’re pretty, you goof”. 

His eyes lower, pensive for a moment, and then flicker back to the movie. Ponyo is sleepy, and the boat has shrunk, and Sousuke has big tears rolling down his cheeks. 

You can’t help thinking it was the wrong thing to say. 

Eventually the noise settles into static; the kind that makes the shadows seem a little darker, dense branches spreading across the ceilings and walls into a daunting canopy. You burrow into your hoodie, pulling the collar up over the bridge of your nose as Sosuke and Ponyo are reunited with his mother in a vast underwater paradise. 

The earlier exchange weighs on you. Stealing a quick glance at Shouto, you feel your anxiety chip at the expression on his face. Somewhere there, beneath the scar tissue and laughter lines and eye bags, is a small boy watching in awe. 

Neither of you speak until the film comes to an end. Your head bobs along to the final song, drawn into a bubble of nostalgia. Through the thick of it, you hear a whisper. Shouto says your name and there’s barely any strength behind it, uncharacteristically timid. Blinking away the haze, your eyes adjust. You can see an inviting, wide open embrace, his left arm now outstretched, the intention clear. 

Shouto looks right back. Your vision has sharpened enough to make out the small smile on his face. You crawl across the couch cushions and curl under his arm, turning your cheek to watch the credits play out.  

“You looked cold,” he belatedly adds. “Is this ok?”

You hum in agreement. Compared to his body heat, you’d say it had been freezing. Despite all the hard earned muscle over the years Shouto is pliable when he’s relaxed, doughy, and he yields when you begin to adjust your shared position. 

Swallowed by warmth, you guide his arm down to cinch around your waist and nestle against his chest. You can feel his heart beating like a wing beneath your palm. 

“Better?” he murmurs, breath tickling your ear. A final shiver dances the length of your spine as the faint tremors dwindle and your bones thaw. Fatigue creeps up, making your eyelids heavy. 

Quietly, “Better”. Then you mumble, “And I do think you’re pretty, Shouto”. 

“Hm?”

“Was bein’ a bit of a coward earlier,” you continue, a sleepy drawl to your words. A yawn pulls at your jaw, nose flaring with it. You think you could sink right into him, like a hot bath. “Shouto’s pretty… all… all the time…”

Your weary eyes gave in to the rhythmic stroke of his hand, consciousness drifting away. Soft dreams undulate, drawing you in, pushing you out. There’s a familiar face. They turn into your palms when you cradle them. Your stomach clenches at the sudden weightlessness and you grasp at their shirt, worried you might float away. 

When you wake up you are in your own bed again. It returns to you in fragments— Shouto’s arms around you, his rumbling laugh, the tangible intimacy that had hung over your heads. Realising he must have carried you to bed you turn over to groan into your pillow. 

Eventually, what draws you out into the open is the smell. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you pad out into the living room, searching for Shouto. Leggings, your mind whispers. He’s milling about the kitchen in his workout clothes; a little pair of shorts overtop and a green hoodie. 

“Morning,” he says, placing a small plate onto a tray. You notice two bowls have already been prepared. “I made breakfast”. 

The greeting dies in your throat when he looks up. A stream of dewy morning light illuminates the room, reflecting on the pale surfaces, creating an ethereal view. He combs his hair back with his fingers, tucking the longer strands behind his ears. Your gaze strays from the bruise on his jaw— now turning a sickly shade of green— to the food on his tray. 

“Wow,” you mumble, feeling hunger twist in your stomach. “This actually looks edible. What’s the occasion?” 

It’s a traditional breakfast. A bowl of rice, miso soup with some vegetables, a rolled egg and a plate of grilled fish. Shouto sets a pair of chopsticks down. “No special occasion. I just wanted to cook for you”. 

“God. You are so…” you wave your hands at him, too overwhelmed by the sudden flush of tenderness. 

He blinks, a twinkle of mirth in his eyes. “You just gestured to all of me”. 

“I just woke up and there’s a prince using my shitty old rice cooker. Forgive me,” you remarked groggily. It feels as if your entire being is a soft spot that he won’t stop prodding at. 

Gathering the tray in your grasp you avoid his stare and make way to the dining table, his quiet chuckle close behind. You sit, unnerved by his presence and fighting off dregs of sleep. The seat is cold under your thighs. “Thank you for the food,” you murmur. 

Chopsticks tucked in the crook of your thumb and finger, you pick up a rolled omelette. The egg tastes sweeter than expected— mixed with more sugar than required, you think, but it’s good, and you finish in the next bite. 

“Are you not leaving for work?”

Shouto hovers across from you; his hands rested on the back of another chair, and stood silently. “How is it?” he deflects. 

Your teeth sink into a tofu cube, umami flavours bursting on your tongue. You hum your approval, making a show of it. “It’s delicious. Thank you, Shouto. Really”. 

Over the years you’ve come to learn that Shouto reacts to praise in subtle ways, and often smiles without his mouth. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice and see it in his spirited stride. You watch as his shoulders straighten. He’s alight, peacocking his pride, and you’re not sure he realises it. 

“There’s a secret ingredient”. 

You pause mid chew, swallowing thickly. “If you say love I’m moving out”. 

Shouto tempers his amusement with a shake of his head. Stray hair falls forward to frame his cheeks.  The chair reclines back on two legs as he leans. “My mother told me that making a meal for someone is a simple way to show gratitude,” he continued. “Thank you for taking care of me last night”. 

Heat simmers under your skin, all buzzing energy and jitters. The sincerity is disarming. Had this been a dream you would’ve kissed him. 

Shoving another tofu cube in your mouth you chew it down to fine paste, vying for time to formulate a coherent sentence. “Don’t thank me for that,” your initial playfulness softened to reciprocate some of his vulnerability. “I know I’m not a hero but I’ll always be there for you in whatever way I can”. 

Whatever his response is, you don’t hear it. Shouto murmurs inaudibly, eyes falling closed with a long exhale. Your only respite is the warmth in his gaze when he looks back at you. “I need to leave now if I don’t want to be late. But I’ll see you tonight?”

You hum an affirmative, nodding around the white rice pinched between your chopsticks. It falls apart gently on your tongue. Covering your mouth, you say, “I’ll be there”.  

Shouto steps away with some finality, readjusting the hem of his shirt. The fabric hangs loose around his hips, emphasising how tight his shorts are. You mentally kick yourself. 

“I’ll text you, then”. 

The day passes frustratingly slowly after Shouto leaves. You technically could be sifting through the new student’s designs, but all you can think about is how charged the atmosphere had been this morning. Retiring back to your room to scream into a pillow or two, you eventually find yourself getting ready. 

Shouto let you know he would be going straight from the agency. He had clothes in a locker here— casual, some jeans and a sweater, which at least allayed the fear of being underdressed.  

You pull on one of your nicer jackets, holding the lapels close to your chest as you step out into the cold evening. Dark cumuli gather in sparse clumps across the darkening sky; as mercy has it, the wind is pushing them in the opposite direction.

The place isn’t far. You don’t frequent it very often but liked it well enough despite management being a bunch of rich guys playing dive-bar dress up. The low ceilings, vintage mismatched furniture and dim red lights created an intimate atmosphere. 

People loved the idea of finding a hole in the wall that nobody else knew about. The catch was everybody knows, but not everybody can get in. 

Flashing above the door in green neon lights is a sign grimly reading ‘The Love Shack’. The first thing you notice is the strong woodsy smell masking the faint scent of alcohol. There’s a floral tinge to it that you have trouble pinpointing. 

You head inside and greet the bouncer standing by the entrance. He’s a big guy, standing around 6 feet 9, mutton chops swallowing a great deal of his face. Resting on his bald crown are a pair of comically small sunglasses. 

Before he can ask for your name it is being hollered across the bar. A few heads turn and you dip your chin to shield from prying eyes. Uraraka is bounding over, Mina hot on her coattails. The pair topple into you with canorous laughter clear over the music. 

“You’re here!” Uraraka effused, grabbing at your shoulders and shaking them. “I haven’t seen you in so long! Shouto has been keeping you all to himself”. 

Mina slumps against you, echoing Ursraka’s words with a slurred whine. “Holy shit. Are you guys already tipsy?” unsteady on your feet you try to keep them upright. 

“No,” Mina tittered, pink lips jutting into a pout. She pokes at your cheek. “You’re just too sober!”

You startle. Another hand, large and hot, splays at the small of your back. The bouncer grunts and encourages you in the direction which they came from. That appears to spur the girls on— you’re dragged to the far end of the bar, a wide booth nestled just around the corner, hidden from view. 

You’re met with a chorus of cheers. Kirishima, Jirou and Shinsou beckon you forward. Bakugo is nursing a pint, offering you a wordless nod. Momo shakes her head as Denki attempts to climb out and greet you despite being trapped by the table, patting his back when the effort is fruitless. 

“Alright, alright. I missed you too,” you grin, helplessly charmed by your friend's excitement. Uraraka ushers you into the booth. You scoot up beside Momo, the group packed in like sardines to make room. 

Mina bends to press a wet kiss to your hairline. It leaves behind a sticky impression of her lips. “Let me go grab you a drink, babe!” she chirps, skipping off toward the bar and immediately draping her upper body over the black countertop to wave the bartender over. 

The conversations resume, an easy atmosphere settling over your group. Though you aren’t entirely from their world they do well to involve you, asking for your thoughts, trying to make you laugh. Jirou blushes under the red lights when you bring up her latest album, sending you an appreciative grin. Mina returns holding an impressive amount of drinks, her fingers slipping dangerously on the condensation. 

You are one strawberry daiquiri in. There’s a muted yet pleasant buzz under your skin, no doubt aided by the good company. Still, you cast an anxious glance around the room, curious about Shouto’s absence. A soft tap to the knee draws your attention. 

Momo turns to whisper in your ear, “Shouto said  he’ll be here on the hour,” answering that unspoken question. Your cheeks fill with an indignant breath, embarrassed by your own transparency. 

“We aren’t attached at the hip, you know,” you rasp childishly. It’s a lie— you’ve lived with Shouto for only three weeks and you have already forgotten where he ends and you begin. Momo laughs, hiding it behind the back of her hand. 

“Could’a had me fooled,” Bakugo interjects, scoffing behind his drink. The glass tips and he drains the last of it. “Your name is all I hear outta his mouth these days. Starting to think he doesn’t know any other words”. 

You hold up an accusing finger, “Quit reading our lips, dickhead”. 

The other bares his teeth, gums and all. He moves his hands in recognisable patterns at a deliberately slow pace, as if talking down to you. ‘Fuck you’ he signs. 

“Oh!” Kirishima claps abruptly. You startle, almost knocking over your drink. He’s so big that it rocked the table. “Check this, Bakugo. I’ve been learning more signs, you gotta tell me if I’m doing ‘em right!”

“Fuck do I look like to you?”

“Like my handsome best bro,” is his smooth reply. Cheeks red as his hair, a cocksure grin flashing his sharp teeth; Bakugo softens, clicking his tongue in feigned annoyance, betrayed by the twitch by the corner of his mouth. You think Kirishima is like an overgrown stray that manipulated Bakugo into being his human. 

Whatever he clumsily signs must have been obscene, because Bakugo roars with laughter.

“Who the hell taught you that, shitty hair?” 

The hour comes and goes. Rings of water collect under the glasses. Shouto is five minutes late. You displace the group, accepting Uraraka’s loose lipped complaints as she is forced to scoot back out the booth. Pinching the fat of her pink cheek, she’s placated by the promise of another round on you. 

“I’ll come with,” Shinsou offered with a lazy wave. 

“Thanks,” waiting for him to get to his feet, you smile. You liked Shinsou well enough. Working as an underground hero meant you didn’t get to see him too often. 

You approach the bar. The man working behind it has gossamer insectoid wings on his back, sprouting from two long slits in his fitted shirt. They glint in the light, colours refracting iridescent, reminding you somewhat of a church window. 

He comes over as he catches your eye, wiping down the sticky surface. You’re honest enough to admit he’s handsome. Rugged with a baby face, hair falling over his forehead in loose curls. There’s an easy air about him, and when he flashes a crooked grin you feel the alcohol a little too thick in your veins. 

Tattooed forearms brace against the bar and he leans into your magnetism, “What can I get ya?”

“They’ll have the same as last time,” you reply. “I think the tab should be under Kaminari’s name?” 

He nods, eyes skimming over your form, “Won’t be long”. 

You turn to find that Shinsou is staring, kissed by a reddish glow. His mouth downturns into a smirk. “I don’t think he even noticed I was here,” he drawls. 

Defensiveness prickles over you. “Don’t think anyone has,” you lightly knock your arms together. “You’ve been quiet tonight”. 

“Not my scene,” Shinsou sinks forward, propped up by his elbow, and rests his chin in the cradle of his hand. His heavy lidded eyes never stray. “But I can’t say no to free drinks”.

The barman works the taps in your periphery but you remain focused on Shinsou. There’s a new scar across his cheekbone, right where his persona mask ends. Another over his mouth, a thin line of rough tissue that cuts through his five o’clock shadow. The mass untameable hair on his head has been cut shorter, tapering around his neck. 

“Leech”. 

“Look who’s talking,” his smirk widens. You watch his gaze slide over your head and dread swirls in your stomach at the gleam in his eye. “I think your nepo baby boyfriend just got here”. 

“Not my boyfriend,” you hiss under your breath. He holds his laughter between his teeth. “And don’t call him that!” 

Shinsou laughs into his palm, low and rumbling. You hear the fond invocation of your name as the heat of another body appears at your back. Met with brilliant teal and stormy grey, Shouto greets you both apologetically. 

Perking up self consciously, you say, “You made it!”

“Hi. Sorry, I got caught up and lost track of time”. 

You’re happy to see him. He’s in fitted jeans and a dark button up shirt over an old black turtleneck. Heterochromatic eyes slide from your smiling face to Shinsou’s own disinterest, then drawn to the drinks that have steadily begun to accumulate on the bar counter. 

“Ah, let me get you a drink—” you wave over the guy who served you, though it is hardly necessary when he’s already observing. He saunters over with a pint of lager, setting it beside Mina’s garish rainbow concoction. 

“Everything alright?” 

Squinting at the messy kanji on his name tag, you think you can make it out. Kei, it reads. “Would we be able to add another to the tab? Our friend just made it”. 

For some reason Shouto crowds in closer, the cool press of his left side seeping through your shirt. Kei barely pays him any mind. “No problem,” a cold flush crawls across your back when he winks. “Anything for you. What’ll it be?” 

“I’ll have a highball,” Shouto interjects. You frown at his sudden sharp demeanour, and lean your weight back in hopes of comforting him. The air warms up. 

Kei’s enthusiasm fractures imperceptibly, “Alright. Let me get started on that for ya”. Shinsou snorted, his head dipped to his chest and shaking; you think you aren’t nearly drunk enough for whatever this is.

“Shit. You really are petty,” Shinsou speaks up after Kei departs to the other end of the bar. “I always thought Midoriya was exaggerating”. 

“Petty?” you echo, squinting at your roommate with a soft pout. Shouto fixes his gaze to the bottles lined across the wall and looks as though he wants the earth to swallow him whole. 

“Highballs are tedious to make,” Shinsou turns his back to the bar, leaning against it with his drink in hand. “You definitely chose that on purpose”. 

“I didn’t,” Shouto monotoned. “I like whisky”. 

“I’ve never seen you drink whisky,” your voice lilts into suspicion. Shouto narrows his eyes, pointedly avoiding yours. A terse beat passes, and you inhale with defeat. “Oh, whatever. Go say hi to the others while we bring the drinks”. 

Shouto blanched. “I can help—”

“I’ve already got a big strong man here to help me,” Shinsou scoffed. There’s an umbrella resting on the lip and a purple straw in his mouth. You put a hand on Shouto’s bicep and squeeze, “You need to let Momo know you’re here before she sends out a search party”. 

The contact visibly placates him. You watch after him as he makes his way to the booth. Slurred over the low music, he turns the short corner to be met with a cheer in much the same way you had. 

“You two are ridiculous,” Shinsou murmurs, amused exasperation clear in his tone. Splitting the drinks into two groups to carry, you ignore his remark and the fondness swirling in your chest. 

Kei appears and sets the highball down. A tall glass of liquid gold, three carved ice cubes fizzing at the bottom, a lemon garnish on the rim. “Thank you,” you tell him, pleased when he reciprocates your sheepish grin. 

You let Shinsou take it— your hands are already full and slipping. The others have pulled Shouto into the booth and sandwiched him between Denki and Mina, whose distinct voices are overlapping as they try to get a word in. 

Denki stops mid sentence as Shinsou slams the drinks onto the table. You do the same, albeit much more carefully. He lists them off one by one, sliding the glasses over to their persons. Shouto’s comes last. 

“And in a surprising turn of events we have Todoroki with a japanese highball”. 

Shouto accepts the drink with his right hand and a straight face, ignoring the harmonious ‘ooh’ that reverberates around the booth. 

Bakugo points his pinky at him, “And since when do you drink whisky?” 

Petulantly, Shouto mutters, “Since now”. 

Ultimately deciding to pull up a chair, Shinsou sits at the head of the table while you are squeezed on the end beside Bakugo; he side glances, raising his brow in acknowledgement. 

“Dude, now that we’re all here, let's have a toast!” Denki exclaims, literal sparks of joy bouncing from his crown. Everybody groans. 

“I’ll hear your toast bro,” Kirishima lifts his pint, the wonderful enabler that he is. Shouto meets your gaze across the table and raises his own with a shrug. 

“I, uh…” Denki shrinks under the pressure. “I dunno what I was gonna say”. 

“To a quick death,” Shinsou proposed, halfheartedly holding his sake in the air. 

“Hear hear,” muttered from beside you, Bakugo’s eyes fell closed. You snickered, alcohol weakening your inhibitions as you hook your chin over his shoulder. He allows it. 

Momo voices her disapproval and tips her glass, “To good health”. 

“To Chargebolt,” Jirou adds, a grin splitting her cheeks, laughter already bleeding into her words. “Seen him at his best, seen him at his worst, and still can’t tell the difference”. 

“Oi!” 

“To a livable minimum wage!” Uraraka hiccups. All the blood in her body seems to have rushed to her face; expression comically determined, betrayed by her spasming diaphragm. Everyone lifts a glass. 

The night crawls on. Another round, then two. Kei refills your glass, never without a flirty comment. You feel thawed from the inside out, a silly smile fixed to your lips. Your cheeks hurt from laughing, from the too-forceful kisses given by Mina, the rough pinch of explosive fingers. 

You might as well be engaged in a game of musical chairs; the only one refusing to surrender his spot is Bakugo. Jirou and Momo slink away somewhere private— ‘private’ being behind the vintage jukebox right by the bathrooms— and Kirishima scoots over to wrap you up in a side hug and pushes all the air from your lungs. Uraraka drapes herself across your front. Shinsou surrenders as Mina sits in his lap. Being with them is as innate as breathing. 

Maybe you didn’t fight a war together but they still embraced you as their own. And Shouto watches with that terrible, awful, shoujo twinkle in his eyes; you flush hot whenever you catch him, inundated by the desire to reach across and kiss him.

Your pulse is quick and movements slowed. A pleasant buzz circulates around your body. After the third round Shouto begins insisting that you stay put. “Okay,” you conceded tipsily. “Tell Kei I said hi”. 

Shouto leaves with a vaguely constipated frown. 

Bakugo cackles and refuses to tell you what was so funny. Momo returns to the sight of you clinging to the stubborn hero’s arm, cursing his name. “What are we laughing at?” she muses. You notice a few things first: there’s a fresh bruise on her neck, a button on her dress undone, and a glass of water in her grasp. 

Disheveled Momo is a rare treat. You’d tease her about it, if Bakugo did not immediately jump at the opportunity to tease you first. “Just gearhead and halfie being oblivious idiots,” he surmised. Another snort bursts from his nose. “‘Tell Kei I said hi’. Shit. Should’a seen his face”. 

“Bakugo,” Momo chides, attempting to disguise her own amusement. “Go easy on them”. 

He clicks his tongue, shaking you with a rough shrug of his shoulder. “You should tell him how you feel and fuck already”. 

Your mood tumbles, dampening as you sulk, “Shouto doesn’t want me like that”. 

“Yeah, right. And vice prez didn’t just get fingered by the jukebox”. 

“Bakugo!” Momo’s voice is stronger this time. She whips her head toward the other patrons and back, embarrassment flooding her cheeks. “I did not get… fingered,” she protested with a sharp whisper. 

“What’s that?” you feign ignorance, drowsy and loose lipped. “Momo got fingered?!”

Making Bakugo laugh feels a little like winning the lottery; having him throw an arm around you as he does it leaves you dizzy with accomplishment. You curl into his side, shoulders shaking. You mouth an apology across the booth and Momo stretches to take your hand, stressing her forgiveness. 

Shouto shatters the jovial atmosphere. He returns stiffly, his glare set in stone, and places a drink you did not order in front of you. After a quick sniff you realise that it’s water. 

“Once you’ve drunk that we should head home,” he says. It’s posed as a suggestion but you hear the instruction. Not wanting to irritate him any further, you begin to sip. 

Momo’s brow pinches with worry. “Is everything alright, Shouto?” 

He breathes harshly through his nose, coming out in a puff of cold air. ”Yes, everything’s fine. I’m sorry to cut the night short, Momo,” his face softens. “It was good to see you”. 

Astonishingly, Bakugo says nothing. His arm snakes from around your back. You finish the water with a big gulp, resurfacing for air. “Done,” you wipe the back of your hand across your lips. 

Shouto steadies you while you awkwardly scoot around the booth. Momo gathers you both into a hug, her kind hand stroking the length of your spine. “Text us when you get home”. 

“We will,” you promise, saluting as you’re gently pulled away. “See ya on Monday, great explosion murder god dynamite, sir!” 

The others have dispersed amongst the small crowd. You mourn not being able to say goodbye to them all. Shouto cinches around your waist and guides you to the door. You can’t complain— instinctively sinking into the embrace, surrounded by his cologne— but you do wonder what the hurry is. 

You waded through the mass of people until you both finally made your way out into the open air. The breeze encourages you closer to his front, cold and refreshing in your lungs. Already you feel as if some of your drunken enthusiasm is dissolving. 

“Shouto?” his pace slows mercifully, coming to a stop underneath a streetlight. The bulb blinks in five second intervals, dousing him in sickly orange. “Are you mad?” 

A warm hand hooks your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye only to avoid looking back. His lips part to speak, and when nothing comes they close. “I’m not mad,” he intoned quietly, thumb skimming over the line of your jaw. Your breath catches. 

He seems so… guilty. 

“I think you are,” you observe, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. You bring his hand down and intertwine it with yours. The alcohol must be making you brave. “But if you’re not ready you don’t need to tell me”. 

Some colour returns to his skin. Shouto huffs a disbelieving laugh. “You’re so—” cutting off that train of thought, he tugs you forward and wraps you into a hug. The crook of his neck shields you from the cold, and for a few short moments all you can hear is your heart beating in your ears. 

“…Have you ever felt like there are things you want to say but there’s something that always stops you from expressing them?” 

You take note of how his grip tightens, warm nose squished into your cheek as if he thought you might run. Shouto is nervous— rather, he’s making himself vulnerable to you. “I have,” you murmur. 

He bows his head to burrow into your shoulder, “Then, would you give me the chance to say them?” 

What you hear is: will you be patient with me? 

“Now?” you ask gently. The light overhead flickers again and your vision swims. You’re realising now that his impulsivity might simply be because he’s drunk. “Don’t you want to talk at home?”

Shouto shakes his head. “If I say it now you can change your mind and go back”. 

That’s worrying. You chew nervously on your bottom lip, “…Okay”. 

You expect him to let go but he doesn’t, though he does loosen his hold, as if giving you the chance to leave. Following a deep inhale, Shouto solemnly admits, “That guy at the bar. Kei. He asked me to give you his phone number”.  

“He did?” 

“Yes,” he says. 

“So where is it?” 

Dread and fatigue curdled in your stomach. You hear the moment Shouto swallows his caution. The atmosphere sours as he admits, “I burned it”. 

You step back, leaving his arms limp at his sides. He looks betrayed. Like you’re testing the strength of a promise you don’t recall making. This was not a good time nor place to talk about this. 

“My feet hurt,” his eyes widened in confusion. “I’m cold and I’m drunk and my feet hurt, Shouto. I want to go home”. 

The request registers slowly. You watch his face fall, gathering a facsimile of a smile. “Okay. Then let’s go home”. 

Your chest aches. You want to cry. You scramble for his hand and squeeze it tight, hating the despondent tone in his voice. “We’re too drunk. We’ll talk about this in the morning,” and that seems to lessen the rigidity in his bones. 

From then on, the walk is done in heavy silence. Your thoughts are muddied and loud, emotions bouncing back and forth between resentment and uncertainty. 

Underneath all of it is a seedling of hope that you daren’t nurture. 

The atmosphere clings, following you all the way home, suffocating as you stand a metre apart in front of your respective bedrooms. You bid him goodnight, hand lingering on the handle. Anticipation sits like a stone in your chest. 

You lie in bed waiting for him to knock. 

He doesn’t. 

Next time you open your eyes you wince at the throb behind them; it pings around the inside of your skull and you groan into your pillow. 

There’s movement in the apartment. Shouto had always been an early riser. Cold relief washes over you at the confirmation that he was here. Last night filters through your mind. One scene after another you try to make sense of it all. 

Kei had been genuinely flirting— you didn’t really think to take it seriously at the time. It was harmless fun, and you figured he was just the type that enjoyed teasing. 

Shouto must’ve realised it early on. That was the reason he stepped in and kept you away from the bar. But that didn’t line up right with the reality you knew, because the only reasonable explanation for his behaviour would be that— 

You shoot upright, kicking off your covers, and immediately feel it rebound. Thumbs pressed to your temples, you massage firm circles into your skin until the pain dulled. 

Holy shit. Shouto was jealous. 

A strange blanket of exhaustion settles back over you, as though your muscles have atrophied. You slide down the headboard and stare up at the marks on the ceiling, all sprawled out like dropped skeins of yarn. Suddenly your bedroom was a refuge from an inevitable relationship altering conversation. 

Shouto had been jealous of a man vying for your affection. Your Shouto: gentle, placid, considerate, patient, funny, beautiful Shouto. 

“Fuck,” you whisper into the emptiness. You can hear the coffee machine brewing in the distance. You’re torn between screaming into your hands and jumping on the bed. 

You settle on getting up. Slowly. It’s clear you had been drunker than you thought; your pyjamas are on back to front. You tremble as you slip your arms through the sleeves and right the collar, padding over to the door. 

Shouto wanted to talk last night and you stopped him. Guilt gnaws away at you. All that courage was shot down. Pretending to forget about it isn’t an option— you had to do this. 

The plan to be stealthy is squandered by the hinge on your door. A harsh squeak reverberates through the apartment. You huff, lowering from your tip toes, and walk towards the kitchen. 

Another body enters the hallway. Shouto turns on his heel and nearly drops his mug as you almost collide. Reflexes hammered into him, he catches it in one hand and manoeuvres you away from the hot splash with the other. 

“Shit. Did it burn you?” he breathes, bringing your hand up to his mouth. A chilly puff of air blows over your skin and you shiver. 

You clear your throat and try to find your voice. “I think you got it. Thank you, Shouto”. 

The sound of his name pulls him out of his reverie. You try not to feel hurt when he drops your hand like hot coal. “Sorry,” casting a forlorn look at the half empty mug and the small coffee puddle at his feet. Lips pressed into a thin line, he says, “I was bringing you some coffee. Thought you might need it”. 

Delicate tendrils of steam dance and dissipate into the air. You gently cup your hands around his and receive the mug, a small smile pulling at your mouth. His eyes are keen and searching as you take a drink. 

“I definitely needed it,” you tell him between sips. The coffee paves a hot path down your throat to your stomach— the warmth spreads, seeking to fill the spaces between. All the earlier fear is washed away.

The time you spend observing one another feels like a short eternity. You watch hope visibly thread into his features, brighter; the way he always should be. 

Softly, you ask, “Do you think we could talk about last night?”

“Yeah,” the word comes in a whisper. Head inclining, Shouto nods in one slow motion. Then, louder, “I should clean up, first. Where do you want to…?”

“Where?” you repeat. The thoughts in his head are written plainly across his forehead and you longed to rid him of them. Tilting and raising your brows suggestively, you tease, “Bedroom?” 

Shouto gives an amused huff and the remnants of caution are blown away like seeds in a dandelion clock. His steps are lighter, a subtle bounce to them. Light filters into the living room and your spirit is buoyed by giddiness and wonder. 

What had you been so afraid of? 

You wait in the crook of the L shaped couch, legs curled beneath your body, facing the tall standing windows that overlook the city. Your headache has lessened into a quiet echo. 

While he mops up the coffee you finish off the last drops in your cup. You take a moment to appreciate your surroundings. The emptiness you once felt in this room no longer exists. Blankets strewn across the cushions, small crochet coasters, pictures put into frames, books left face down to save the page, things out of place— it felt so lived in. 

It felt like home. 

You sit up when footfalls approach. Shouto is pretty in the late morning light, under eye shadows and all. “Did you even sleep last night?”

“Not much,” he confesses. His weight shifts before he finally decides on sitting beside you, turning to mirror your posture. “I thought I might’ve messed things up”. 

You stretch to put your mug on the coffee table and his eyes follow attentively. “Shouto, you didn’t mess anything up,” he wrings his hands together in his lap, searching your face for dishonesty and finding none. “Though you probably shouldn’t have burned up that guy's number”. 

“Probably,” he affirmed. The hair on his left side is pressed flat to his head. You count the creases on his cheek, stopping at the healing bruise on his jaw. The movement of his full mouth draws you back, “I am sorry for that. It was childish of me and I took away your choice”. 

You hum, shuffling closer on your knees. Shouto’s expression is beautifully open, and you understand it, because your heart beat is thrumming just the same. “Next time, give me the number so I can ask you to burn it myself”. 

Shouto’s fiddling halts. It’s a relief. You thought if he pulled at that hangnail any more he might unravel in front of you. A crease forms between his brows, “What?” 

“I don’t want anyone else’s number. I…” losing some of your strength, you close your eyes for a second. Inhale deeply, continuing on an exhale, “Last night, you were jealous”. 

It’s not a question. Shouto nods, his hand making an aborted reach for your own but thinking better of it. 

You slide your palm against his. Your fingers fill the spaces between his knuckles. Shouto holds on tight and you ask,  “…Why?” 

A nail traces random shapes into his skin. You watch him watching your finger, mouth curled into a small, wobbly smile. He steels his resolve, an internal monologue you aren’t privy to. With spine tingling cadence, he says, “Because I’m in love with you”. 

You’re not sure what you anticipated. There isn’t much that could prepare you for such a long awaited admission— for something you’d only daydreamed about hearing. The hunger in your heart rears its head, seeing his words as permission to want. To take. 

Shouto carries on, incognisant to your plight. “I made peace with my feelings a long time ago. It’s not something I wanted you to worry about”. 

“You’re doing it again,” you tell him. “Deciding things for me”. 

“I don’t want you to make peace with them. I want you to share them. With me,” Your eyes meet as he peers up. There’s a stray kiss curl by his temple, white and soaking up the sun. He shudders when you twist it gently around your finger. “I love you too, dummy”.  

Heat prickles at the back of your neck, feeling the shift in atmosphere. “Oh,” is his eloquent reply. A slow blooming grin pulls at his mouth as the reality sets in. 

“Yeah. Oh”. Giddiness bubbles in your chest like water in a wellspring and you let go to cup his face. Shouto leans into the cradle your hands form, eyes fluttering closed as your thumb skims over the scar tissue. His ears are warm. 

Guided by fleeting impulses you press a quick kiss to his left eyelid, and he sucks in a shaky breath. You move lower, nose bumping his cheek, to press another to the corner of his mouth. 

“Is this okay?” you whisper, feeling like you were on the delicate precipice of something incredible. His mouth turns to chase yours, bicoloured eyes peeking beneath his lashes. 

“Kiss me,” he murmurs, and it comes like a puff of steam. “On the mouth this time”. 

Your lips tremble as you try not to laugh, aligning with his. You kiss him, petal soft and gentle, and feel it when he smiles. Tentative, derived from uncertainty and unfamiliarity. 

Shouto’s cool fingers slide around the nape of your neck, holding you in place. Don’t go anywhere. You answer in kind— hands sliding down to his chest to guide him back into the cushions and feel his heart racing as you settle your knees either side of his hips. You barely part for air, and Shouto follows your lead. 

“Again,” he mumbles. 

The intensity grows. Shouto kisses like it’s his last. Strong arms wrap around your waist, wandering hands mapping out the topography of your body. Somewhere between, your tongue dips into the seam, biting his bottom lip and plucking a whine right from his mouth. Heat flutters low in your abdomen; hips squirm between your thighs, his chest pressed to your own. 

“Shouto,” you groan, pushing harder, needing to be closer, threading into the soft hair at the back of his head. Fingers curl into the fat by your hips, they pull, rocking you into his lap. Invigorated, Shouto nips at your lips. Arousal spikes through you at the cool exhale— his tongue slides over your own and along the grooves in your teeth, wet and cold. 

“Fuck, is that—” you pant, head falling back as he begins to leave a trail of hot kisses down your throat. “S’that your quirk?” 

He hums an affirmative. The sound is resonant, deep in his chest and satisfied. Smug. You feel the impression of his smile against your jugular. Static fills your brain. Your thighs clench, rutting forward to relieve the ache between your legs, imagining all the things his mouth could do. 

At some point you part to catch your breath. Your foreheads come together, sharing awed laughter. Shouto cheeks are pink and there’s a soft smile on his swollen, kiss-bitten lips.  His hand moves to cup your jaw, rubbing small circles into the cheekbone.

“We should… slow down…” his chest heaves, eyes swallowed by his pupils. They fall to his lap, right where you’re pressed to his cock. You file away the lazy slur in his voice and wonder if that’s where all his blood went. “…I want to do this properly”. 

Figures that he would have more willpower than you; though you get the sense if you pushed, he’d give, and every surface in the apartment would see you laid out. Gathering your thoughts is made much more difficult as he kneads at your thigh, heedless to your struggle. 

“Okay baby,” you murmur, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to his brow bone. His ears turn red and you’re alight, “You like that?” 

Shouto tucks his grin against your shoulder. Like before, he locks both arms around your back and holds you close. You comb your fingers through his hair, overlapping white and red, a long tender moment passing. 

“You love me,” he whispered apprehensively. Then again, thick with wonderment. “You love me”.  

It’s unbelievable to him— and that’s unbelievable to you. Shouto is easy to love, moreso than anyone you have ever met. All clandestine glances, soft spoken words and inside jokes; a book of every witty little thing you’ve said, keeping your words close, giving importance to the things you enjoy; he’s gag gifts and thoughtfulness and open arms, the reason all your hot drinks never go cold, he’s the cream that never melts. He’s home. 

You cradle him to your chest with no intention of letting go. The sun crawls higher, casting a warm blanket over your shoulders. 

“I do,” you reply. “How could I not?” 

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 13) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.9k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY.

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Daddy and Mommy Issues Galore; Arguments; Crying; Angst with a Dash of Despair; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You show Jake the envelope and set off a bomb in your relationship.

Series Master List

Master List

A.N. It's Chapter 13 y'all. What else did you expect?

Jake returned home after work, expecting you to be up and walking around. But when you didn’t call out to him as he shut the door behind him, he went looking for you. 

Jake walked further into your shared apartment and paused when he saw you sprawled out on the couch, asleep with the small fan blowing cool air straight onto your face. You were still wearing the clothes that you wore to work that morning. 

He stopped in front of you, taking a moment for himself. He had rehearsed what he wanted to say to you about the promotion. But now that he was home and you were asleep meant that he had more time to think over those words. 

Because it was not going to be an easy discussion. 

Telling you about what the promotion meant for the next few months was not a conversation that he even wanted to think about. The absolute last thing that he wanted to do was stress you out. And the second that you started to look upset or if you started to cry, he’d crumble into dust. He couldn’t think about your broken expression. He couldn’t. It’d haunt him for the rest of his days. 

So, he decided to start with the easier audience. 

“I got promoted today, little one,” he began softly, keeping his voice low as he squatted down in front of your bump. “You shouldn’t be surprised. It was overdue, actually.” The joking smile slipped from his lips as he glanced up at your peaceful sleeping expression. “But there’s a risk that I won’t be here when you finally arrive in a few months. There was always a risk but now it got a little bigger.”

Jake bit his lip and looked down at the floor, trying to keep his own fears and emotions stable. He deserved the promotion he got. He wanted it. He craved it. He earned it. 

But the timing couldn’t have been more shitty. 

“How do you think your mom would take the news?” he whispered to your bump, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs. “Not well, right?” After a moment of silence, he nodded and added, “Yeah, that’s what I thought too.” 

Jake turned to look up at your face, his heart stabbed by the image of how calm and rested you looked laying there. He should have been celebrating. He was the first to get promoted among the Dagger Squad. Cyclone seemed to think that he had a long and successful career in the Navy ahead of him. 

But why did it have to come at the cost of the biggest moments of his personal life? Ones that he would not be able to get back if he missed them. 

“Let’s just keep it between us for right now,” Jake whispered to your bump. “I'll break it to your mom slowly, okay?”

Standing up, Jake leaned over and slowly removed your shoes in an effort to make you more comfortable. There wasn’t much else that he could do without moving you and risking waking you up. So, he got up, changed, and moved to start making dinner. He knew that you would probably be starving when you woke up.

Jake was in the middle of stirring the sauce when he heard you move. Looking over his shoulder at you, Jake removed the pan from the heat and walked over to you as you sat up, rubbing your eyes tiredly. Jake sat on the coffee table in front of you as you glanced out the window, noting the setting sun.

“What time is it?” you yawned.

“Not too late. I’m making dinner,” Jake replied, causing you to smile. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a rock, apparently,” you mused, sitting up more. “My back’s going to kill me in a few hours, I know it.” 

“Anything I can do to help?”

“No, it’s fine. I think I’ll just shower,” you stated, moving to get up. 

Jake offered you his hands and you let him help you up. Pressing a kiss to his lips, you turned and headed for the bathroom. You returned a few minutes later, dressed in one of his shirts and a loose pair of shorts, as Jake was placing a healthy portion of food on a plate for you. 

“Thank you,” you told him softly as he handed you a fork. “How was work?” 

“Fine,” he responded, his voice low. 

“Just fine?” you asked, dropping your voice low in an attempt to match his own. “You know that makes me think that something bad happened.” 

“Well, something did happen,” Jake stated, causing you to set down your fork. When you looked up at him expectantly, he continued, “I got promoted. You’re looking at Lieutenant Commander Seresin.” 

“Oh, Jake,” you praised, getting up from your seat. Walking around the island, you pulled him in for a tight hug. “Congratulations.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You deserve it. You’re an amazing aviator,” you replied, releasing him from your hug. You pressed a loving kiss to his lips before smiling up at him. “I’m so proud of you.”

He nodded and gave you another kiss, lingering, and promising more later before pulling back. Resting his forehead against your own, he cupped your bump, gently rubbing his hands over your belly.

As if it was going to be the last perfect moment that the three of you were going to share. 

“Thank you.”

You retook your seat and the two of you chatted some more. You were in the middle of telling him about the crazy lady who called your office earlier when you remembered the weird envelope. 

“And something came in the mail,” you stated, getting up again. Jake watched you curiously, a little confused. You grabbed the blue envelope and returned to the island, holding it out for Jake to take. “It’s from your mom, I think.”

The sharp clatter of Jake’s fork against his plate caused you to wince. 

Studying Jake’s expression, you frowned. Your boyfriend’s warm and comfortable demeanor was gone in a flash and now he was staring at the envelope in your hand like it was a stick of dynamite that he only had three seconds to diffuse before it blew up in both of your faces. 

“Jake?”

“I’ll take it,” Jake replied firmly, taking the envelope from your grip. 

You watched as he walked around and tossed it into the trash, ignoring your incredulous expression. He closed the trash can and returned to his seat, as if nothing ever happened. 

“Jake,” you stated, a bit scolding with your tone. “What the hell?”

You were tired of just pretending like it didn’t bother you that he didn’t share anything about his past with you. You let it slide what felt like a thousand times in the name of keeping the peace and keeping Jake comfortable. Especially when he just shut down and acted out like this at the drop of a hat. Frankly, it scared you, how quickly he could just change.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Jake,” you stated more firmly as you walked to the trash can. “Why are you just throwing it out?”

“Just leave it,” Jake grunted, not looking up. 

“Why?” you challenged him, opening the trash can. 

“Just drop it,” Jake replied definitively, still not meeting your gaze. 

“Jake, I’m not one of your ensigns. And you don’t get to order me around like one,” you snapped a bit, pulling the envelope out of the trash can. Tossing it onto the countertop in front of him, you stared Jake down. “Your mother sent you a card. Why is that causing you to shut down like this?”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’ve got enough to worry about and I don’t want to stress you out about it.”

“Can you stop using kiddy gloves with me?” you growled, folding your arms over your chest. “I’m pregnant. And ever since we told everyone, people have treated me differently. Acting like I’m weak, like I’m going to fly off the handle, or have some massive medical episode if they have a serious conversation with me. Just tell me, Jake. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

“I’m not trying to treat you differently,” Jake defended himself. “There are just things that I don’t want to discuss.”

“Jake, we’ve pushed off this whole conversation for months now. And I would like to have it before the baby comes. And if not now, when?” you asked, him before pointing at the card in front of him. “Why is a little card causing your whole personality to change like this?”

“It hasn’t.”

“Then why can’t you even look at me right now?”

Jake turned to face you with an annoyed expression that made you grind your teeth together. The two of you had a bit of a staring contest before Jake sighed and looked away, running a hand through his hair. 

“I don’t want to fight about something so stupid and stress you out unnecessarily—“

“—You avoiding this conversation is unnecessarily stressing me out,” you interjected, causing Jake’s expression to sour again. “Every time I try to learn about your past, you shut down. A switch just flips in your head and you’re not you anymore. And that terrifies me, Jake.”

“It shouldn’t,” Jake insisted stubbornly. 

“Well, it does,” you snapped back at him. “I mean, if our baby asks you about your parents in a few years, are you going to shut down then? Are you going to storm off? Are you going to yell at them?”

“That’s not fair,” Jake growled, turning back to you. 

“It’s not?”

“No, it’s not. Don’t bring the baby into it.”

“Jake, the baby is the whole reason why we’re here,” you stated, causing his expression to shift again. 

“So, you never would have actually wanted to be in a relationship with me if I didn’t get you pregnant?”

“That’s not what I said, Jake," you snapped back at him.

“Then what are you trying to say?” Jake asked, annoyed as he stood up. “That I wasn’t worth the trouble of telling your brother and Maverick that you’re your own person if I didn’t get you pregnant? That I was only worth it when you had to deal with me?”

“So you get to bring my family into this conversation but I had to learn your mother’s name from an envelope that you would have thrown out if I didn’t see it first?” you shot back at him. “And it’s not my fault that you and my brother and Mav had shit go down before I even moved to San Diego.”

“I’m not saying that it’s your fault,” Jake stressed. "But I'm getting really fucking tired of having to prove myself to them. Nothing I do is ever going to be good enough for them, would make me good enough for you in their eyes."

"What did they tell you?" you asked, frowning.

"Jesus Christ, what didn't they tell me? Your brother thinks I'm still going to walk out on you. That I'm going to be a shit father. Mav doesn't say anything but don't tell me that he doesn't have a plan to get rid of me," Jake stated, causing you to stare up at him with an expression like you didn't know what to do.

"I'll talk to them about it, Jake," you stated quietly, causing Jake to sigh and look away. "What?"

"Are you actually going to talk to them? Are you?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" you snapped, getting steadily annoyed.

“I’m just saying that your family isn’t perfect. And sometimes it feels like you need a reminder.”

“At least you know who my family is," you replied defensively. "I couldn’t tell you anything about your life prior to when my brother met you. And that’s weird, Jake!”

“Why do you care so much about it?” he pressed, causing your temper to flare up. 

“Because we’re having a baby together! And you’re making me feel like I’m insane for asking you questions about your past!”

“There are things that you don’t want to talk about, and I respect your boundaries. Why can’t you respect that I don’t want to talk about my parents?” Jake demanded, turning away from you. 

“Jake, I’m not asking for every little painful detail about your childhood. I’m just asking for an explanation for why you shut down like this when we talk about your family."

“Because my parents are assholes and I have no intention of talking to them ever again.”

“Why are you never going to talk to them again? Help me understand that, Jake,” you practically begged him for some kind of emotional depth. “I don’t understand, so help me, Jake. Because I would give a hell of a lot to have my parents back. What happened that made you feel this way? What happened that made you feel that cutting them out of your life was the only way to protect yourself?”

“I’m trying to protect you and our baby at this point,” Jake replied after a few moments. 

“Why do we need protection from your parents?”

“Because they’re snobby assholes who would never consider you part of their family. And I know that you’ve built up this image of our kid having loving family on both sides and grandparents to spoil them, but that’s not going to happen. My family isn’t going to want anything to do with you or the baby regardless of anything that you do.” Jake shifted his weight on his feet before asking, “Is that a good enough explanation for why I don’t want to talk about my parents?”

“It’s a start,” you stated, causing Jake to scoff and shake his head, turning away from you.

“Is everything fair game now?” Jake muttered sarcastically, earning a glare from you. 

“What have I ever kept from you, Jake?” you asked calmly, glaring over at him. "Really, what do you want me to tell you about?" 

“Why’d you break off your engagement to Connor?” Jake asked bluntly, causing you to stare at him incredulously. 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Jake?”

“No,” Jake returned, causing your temper to raise quickly again. “If you broke up with a guy that you were with, got engaged to, after five years together and your family seemed to love, adore, and respect the guy, what’s keeping you here with me? Besides the fact that I knocked you up.”

Grinding your teeth together, you took a breath to settle yourself. You turned back to Jake, who waited expectantly for your response. Your mind made up, you straightened, and stared him down.

“I broke up with Connor because he was an asshole who kept things from me because he felt that I didn’t deserve to know them, even though we were getting married, belittled me when I tried to call him out on it, and made me feel like shit because he knew that I loved him, and he took advantage of that to keep me there.” You paused for a moment, your lips wobbling a bit, before you added harshly, “But I’m really fucking glad that I learned from that mistake.”

Jake’s annoyed expression broke, but you didn’t stand around to watch it fall. Turning on your heel as tears started to gather in your eyes, you walked away from him. Grabbing your phone, purse, and keys, you moved to slip your shoes on as Jake walked over to you. 

“Where are you going?”

“This is your apartment. So, I’m going to get some air.”

“You shouldn’t be driving when you’re upset," Jake insisted, a bit frantic as he gently reached for your arm.

“I can take care of myself, Jake,” you snapped, pulling your arm out of his grip. 

“But you’re pregnant.”

“Congratulations, Seresin, you have eyes.”

“Wait—”

You turned and shot him a look that made his blood turn cold. Reaching for the doorknob, you yanked it open harshly and stepped out into the hallway. 

“Don’t follow me.”

The door slammed shut behind you, causing Jake to wince and lower his head. 

~~~~~

Maverick was sitting on his couch, watching a baseball game when his phone started to buzz. Rolling over, he raised an eyebrow when he saw that Jake was calling him. Answering it, he held his phone to his ear. 

“Jake?”

“Mav,” Jake returned, his tone sounding off. 

“Something wrong?” When Jake didn’t reply immediately, Maverick sat up, concerned, and alert. “What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”

“No. We . . . we had a fight and she stormed off and she’s not answering my calls and I’m pretty sure that she never wants to see or talk to me ever again, but I need someone to go and look for her and make sure that she’s okay,” Jake rambled, starting to get more and more hysterical as he went on.

And Maverick only felt his concern grow when he heard the emotion in Jake’s voice. Hangman was never the type to panic. Maverick had seen other members of the Dagger Squad panic in the air and on the ground, even just for a few seconds, but never Hangman.

If Jake was freaking out, Maverick was going to freak out.

“And I didn’t know who else she would turn to and I didn’t even want to think about calling Rooster—”

“—No, I can handle it,” Maverick agreed, walking over to the door. Sliding on his jacket, Maverick adjusted the phone in his hand as he reached for his keys. “Did she say where she was going?”

“No.”

“What set her off in the first place?” 

“We were talking about my family.”

Maverick knew that wasn’t the whole story and that Jake was probably avoiding saying specifics to keep Maverick on the phone, but he didn’t press it. You were out there somewhere, alone, upset, and pregnant and that was Maverick’s priority. He could deal with whatever set the whole situation off in the first place once you were found safe and sound. 

“She took her car?”

“Yes.”

“What direction did she head in when she left?”

“She’s heading towards base or you or Rooster.”

“Alright, well . . .” Maverick trailed off when he saw your car pull into his driveway. 

“What?”

“She’s here,” Maverick stated, hanging his keys up.

Sliding his jacket off his shoulders, Maverick paused for a moment, thinking about what else to say to Jake. Was Maverick shocked that the two of you had a fight that resulted in one of you storming off? No, not really. But he needed the facts. And he first and foremost needed to know that you were okay.

As did Jake.

“I’ll make sure that she and the baby are safe. You don’t have to worry about them here.”

“Thank you,” Jake croaked out quietly. 

The two men stood on the line in silence, both knowing that there were more conversations to be had, but both also knowing that their priorities were elsewhere at the moment. 

“I’ll call or text you if she’s ready to talk to you.”

“Alright,” was all Jake replied. 

“Bye, Jake.”

Maverick hung up the phone and opened the door, taking a step out as you slowly walked down the path from the driveway. Tears had already dried on your cheeks and fresh ones appeared in your eyes when you saw Maverick waiting for you. After a moment, you broke down and Maverick rushed forward, gathering you in his arms and quickly leading you inside the house. 

“Jake and I had a fight,” you cried as Maverick closed the door behind you.

“It’s going to be alright.”

~~~~~

Jake sat with just the kitchen light on, giving him just a little bit of light to see. Looking at the blue envelope on the coffee table with his mother’s scrawl written on it, Jake slowly picked it up. Ripping the envelope open, Jake pulled out a simple card like the ones that people would buy in a store.

It was a simple card that just helped destroy your relationship. 

Opening the card, Jake paused when he saw the cartoon baby on the left side of the card. With his heart beating harder in his chest, Jake turned to read the paragraphs that his mother wrote to him.

Jake,

I hope that this card finds you somehow, unlike my other messages. I miss you, sweetheart, and hope that you’re being safe flying around and not pushing limits like you usually do. Though I guess you get that from your father. He asks about you still. I know that the two of you have your differences, but maybe this new phase of life that you’re entering will change your perspective a little bit. 

I heard that you’re having a baby with a girl out in California. I hope that everything’s going well with her and that she and the baby are healthy. And that you’re getting married, which is the right thing to do. And I hope that the two of you love each other and your child with everything in your hearts. 

I’d love to meet her, Jake. And give her a beautiful gift. She’s the mother of my grandbaby and if you love her, I love her too, honey. You’re going to be a wonderful father. I hope you have a strong, sweet little boy to carry on the Seresin name. 

I haven’t told your father about what I heard, but that doesn’t mean that he hasn’t heard it. Please, honey, call me. The number’s the same. I just want to talk.

Love,

Mom

Jake set the card down and held his head in his hands for a moment. His mind was racing and his hands were starting to shake. There was too much going on and he had control over too little of it for him to feel calm and collected. He felt like the world was spinning and he was just getting thrown around. 

Angrily tossing the card away, Jake got to his feet and stormed off, heading down the hall to his bedroom. But when he stepped inside and saw your pregnancy pillow there, mocking him, a batch of hot, frustrated tears slipped down his cheeks. 

Dropping to his knees, Jake slammed his fist onto the carpeted floor, before holding his head in his hands and breaking down. 

~~~~~

You laid on your side in Maverick’s spare bedroom, staring out the window. You were in no emotional state to go back to see Jake and talk about your fight and you didn’t want to make it worse. Maverick told you to stay as long as you needed, and you were taking him up on his offer. You told him not to tell anyone else about what happened for now and he agreed. And after giving you some dinner and a thousand pillows, Maverick left you alone with your thoughts. 

Looking out the window, you rubbed your hand down your bump, hoping that you’d at least feel your baby move tonight. But when they didn’t move like normal, you couldn’t help the choked sob that escaped your lips nor the tears down your cheeks. 

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[eternalguk]

All Yours || jjk. (M)

Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep.

↠ Pairing : Jungkook x Reader

↠ Summary : Your love for Jungkook was a quiet emotion. He was the oxygen you needed to breathe. In his kisses, you found sincerity. In his embrace, you discovered your heartbeat. And in his love, you found your eternal home.

↠ Genre : established relationship au, slice of life au, comfort au, boyfriend!jk & teacher!reader, pwp (teeny tiny angst, fluff & smut)

↠ Word count : 6.3k

↠ Warnings : allusions to sadness / anxiety, oc hating her job, oc is an overthinker, brief mention of taehyung, unprotected sex, female oral, fingering, breast play, making out, reader squirts, pet names, softdom!jk, praise kink and they’re both just hopelessly in love with e/o.

↠ A/n : hi everyone, it’s nice to meet you 🤍 here is a soft Jungkook fic that I have written as a form of closure for something. I hope you enjoy this short musing and can also find comfort from this. Your feedback is always appreciated and I would love to get to know you! Happy reading 🦢.

↠ Song : Chariot - Jacob Lee.

Work.

The word itself sent a chill down your spine and made your throat feel stuck. What field of work does your job fall into, you wondered as you stepped outside the building.

Am I a babysitter? A therapist? A cleaner? An administrator? A parent? Everyday, as you walk towards your car, the same thoughts fill your brain as you keep your eyes from closing.

A teacher.

All those jobs fell into one category and that was being a teacher.

You loved your job, you really did. But it was finally beginning to catch up to you and burn you out. 

As you put your students’ exercise books into your car, your phone rings. A sigh escapes your lips as you curse whoever is calling you at the moment your brain is shutting down.

A small smile forms on your face as you read the caller id. 

Jungkook.

You answer immediately, your tense body visibly relaxing.

“Jagi? Hello?”

You listen to his voice, eyes beginning to tear up as you realise how much you’ve missed him.

“Guk!” you say brightly, hoping to mask the tiredness laced all round you.

“You’ve not replied all day, I’ve been waiting!” He begins. You already know what’s coming next.

“I told you to message me at break, lunch and to leave as soon as the bell rings for the end of the day. You’ve stayed behind again!”

“Mhmm”

“Do I need to come collect you myself? Keep the car at home, huh?” He scolds, but you know his intentions simply mean well for you. What did you do to deserve a loving boyfriend like him?

“I’m sitting into the car now to head home; I’ll be back in no time. I was on detention duty.” You reply, skin crawling at the remembrance of you waiting for the students to leave.

“Be quick babe, I’ll get your food ready.”

“Okay, my love.” You smile again, counting down the minutes until you see your boyfriend.

“Love you,” he whispers. You imagine the grin playing on his lips.

“Love you more,” you respond, switching your car on as he cuts the call.

Comfort. Delight. Jungkook.

As you step through the threshold of your home, a sense of warmth and comfort immediately envelops you. The cosy ambiance welcomes you like an old friend, with soft lighting casting gentle glows across the hallway. The scent of freshly made cookies mingles with the familiar aroma of your favourite scented candles, creating an atmosphere of tranquillity.

He truly knows how to bring a smile to your face.

Every corner is adorned with personal touches, from cherished photographs of you and Jungkook, to carefully selected décor that reflects your unique styles. As you move through the space, you can't help but feel grateful for the haven you have created with Jungkook, where you both have cultivated a sanctuary that feels like an extension of yourselves.

Here, amidst the walls that hold your shared memories and the echoes of your laughter, you have crafted the perfect safe space where you can be yourselves, finding solace and serenity in one another's presence.

Smiling, you head into your main living space, waiting to see the only person who puts your busy mind at ease.

Jungkook stands with his back to you. Bam, your playful dog, next to him.

You admire Jungkook staring out the window, lost in the rhythmic percussion of the rain that briskly falls outside. His eyes are steady to each drop, face aglow with the orange rays that spill from the lamp before him. His lips bear the semblance of a smile, just enough to show that he is enjoying his thoughts, whatever they may be. You move closer to him, hoping he’d feel your presence, yet you stay quiet, allowing him to stay lost in the moment a little while longer.

“You got home fast?” A quiet whisper breaks the silence as a hand reaches out to you, beckoning you to come closer. Nuzzling into your boyfriend, you reply a quick, “mhm,” before reaching up to peck his cheek and resting your own against his bare shoulder.

“And you’re half-naked?” You tease, brushing your nose against his soft skin. Jungkook had evidently just showered, his typical body lotion filling your nose. You’d always tell him how you dislike his lotion, and so he’d use exactly that one.

“That’s what love is,” he’d always say.

“Long day?”

“Long week,” you sigh, removing your shoes at the same time and dropping your bag. You mentally thank the fact that you missed the rain by a millisecond. Having soaked clothes and books would’ve definitely made your day worse.

“Wanna talk about it?” Jungkook prompts, his husky voice already washing you with calmness. You shake your head, “no,” simply wanting to relish in the comforting ambience that occupied your home.

Minutes pass as you both watch the March rain. The day really had slipped away into a moment of time, as if it had never really been yours in the first place.

“And here is your lasagna, my love. Made by yours truly.” Jungkook smiles, placing a bowl of warmth before you.

As Jungkook places the steaming bowl of lasagna in front of you, its aroma fills the air. He settles across from you, a grin playing on his lips, but you notice there’s no bowl for himself.

"Where's yours?" you inquire, already sensing the answer.

With a nonchalant shrug, Jungkook replies, "Already had mine." 

You roll your eyes, a playful scowl crossing your face. "That's one thing I hate about you," you jest, though there's a hint of annoyance in your tone.

He chuckles, undeterred. "It's not like I can't eat again." With that, he rises to retrieve a modest portion of lasagna for himself.

As you both dig into the savoury dish made by your boyfriend, conversation flows effortlessly. "Shall I ask about work?" Jungkook inquires, breaking the comfortable silence.

You sigh, swirling your fork in the layers of cheese and pasta. "I'm really considering handing in my notice," you confess, contemplating a change to a quieter job.

Jungkook nods understandingly, his eyes reflecting empathy. "You could do with a break," he agrees, his voice gentle. "You know, my dad really liked those jewellery designs you sketched. Come work with us. Plus, I’ll get to see more of you," he adds with a playful smirk.

You laugh, shaking your head. "You just want to fulfil your dreams of office sex," you tease, with a fondness in your tone.

He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Hey, don't call me out so soon," he retorts with a smirk, winking at you.

Shifting the conversation, you inquire about his own work, wondering if he felt more settled today with his dad.

“Yeah, I'm enjoying the creative freedom,” Jungkook replies, a sense of satisfaction evident in his voice. You knew he had troubles voicing his ideas, but with encouragement from you, he finally felt confident enough to show his father.

Curious about his recent photography bookings, you ask about any upcoming weddings.

Jungkook's face lights up with a grin. "Yes, Sunmi recommended me to a friend," he reveals proudly.

The joy you felt knowing Jungkook was still able to balance his passion with work was something inexplicable.

"We need to invite her and Namjoon over for lunch," you suggest, already picturing the lively gathering.

Agreeing wholeheartedly, Jungkook nods as you both continue to savour the lasagna and each other's company, content in the warmth of shared moments and future plans.

Breaking the comfortable silence, Jungkook clears his throat, drawing your attention. "Guess who reached out to me earlier today," he announces, a hint of excitement, but shock in his voice.

Curiosity piqued, you inquire, "Who?"

Jungkook's eyes light up as he responds, "Taehyung hyung." 

You offer a polite smile. "Ah, that's nice," you remark, though a subtle tension settles over you.

"He's back in town next weekend with, you know who," Jungkook continues, sensing your unease but pressing on gently.

Your grip tightens slightly on your utensils, but you nod, silently signalling for him to continue.

"He wanted to see us," Jungkook reveals. "I said I'll check with you."

Before you can even apologise for your hesitation, Jungkook reaches over, gently clasping your hand. "Never apologise," he insists, his voice firm yet comforting. "We'll do whatever makes you feel comfortable."

You exhale softly, grateful for his understanding. "I really don't mind him," you confess, your words tinged with resignation. "It's been years, and I've moved on. But being in his presence brings everything back, and I don't feel happy with that."

Jungkook nods in understanding, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. "We can cross that bridge when we come to it," he reassures, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

Feeling a wave of gratitude, you offer a small smile before suggesting, "I'll wash the dishes."

Jungkook nods, his expression softening. "I'll go edit some photos," he offers, rising from his seat.

With a silent understanding, you both retreat to your respective tasks, the air filled with unspoken reassurances and a shared commitment to each other's comfort.

Jungkook hoists you onto the counter effortlessly, gently slotting himself between your parted legs. With a quick peck to your lips, he reaches behind you to grab your cleanser, pumping it twice into his hands.

“I’ll put on some soft music, light a candle,” he begins, lathering the cleanser between his fingertips before doing his best to apply it to your face, “and then I’ll cuddle you until you fall asleep.” 

You simply nod, the sight of Jungkook concentrating on not getting the cleaner in your hair distracting you. 

“Why do you do this for me?” You whisper, genuine curiosity taking over you as you come to terms with just how delicately Jungkook has tended to you not just today, but everyday. Everyday for the past 6 years. The feeling felt foreign but comforting all at the same time.

You weren’t used to someone taking care of you, and as Jungkook dampens a face towel to smoothly remove the product from your face, you realise once again how lucky you are to have him.

“Because you deserve this, angel.” He pauses, grabbing a cotton pad and your almost finished toner. “You deserve to know that you’re also a priority.”

You melt at his words, leaning forward to gingerly press a kiss against his nose. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

You aid Jungkook in finishing your skincare routine which he confidently completes. An intimate silence envelops you and Jungkook thankfully doesn’t pierce it. You didn’t quite feel like speaking right now, your mind being loud enough. 

What would it be like to see Taehyung? Should you say yes? Should you say no? It’s not fair on Jungkook. It’s not fair on you.

“Stop thinking about seeing hyung, Jagi.” Jungkook scolds, offering you a cheeky smile at the same time.

“I hope you know that there’s no fee-”

“I know; I trust you.”

“But-”

“And you trust me.” 

He swiftly lifts you from the counter, and you cling to him like a koala as he carries you to your bedroom. Upon entering, a gentle breeze hits your bare legs which makes you cling to Jungkook stronger, eliciting a small chuckle from the man.

Softly, he lies you on the mattress before joining you underneath the crisp duvet.

“Sing to me,” you whisper as Jungkook pulls you onto his bare chest. You nuzzle into him, basking in the warmth he holds.

“I was thinking something else,” he whispers and he moves you closer.

“And what would that be, Mr. Jeon?” You feign innocence, knowing exactly what is brewing in Jungkook’s mind.

“I’ll just show you, soon-to-be Mrs. Jeon.” He smirks, leaning forward to peck a kiss on your lips.

As the moonlight streamed through the lace curtains, illuminating the room with a soft golden glow, you couldn't contain the flutter of excitement in your heart. The thought of marrying Jungkook filled you with a warmth that spread from the tips of your toes to the depths of your soul.

You imagined the way his eyes would sparkle with joy as you exchanged vows, and the gentle touch of his hand reassuring yours. You couldn't help but smile, knowing that your love was the greatest adventure of all.

“Hey, dreamer. Wakey wakey.” Jungkook laughs, shaking you out of your daydreams.

Dreamer.

A few years ago you wouldn’t have ever imagined having another nickname, but here you were, loving this one the most. Where does time go?

“Jungkook, my love?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Show me, please.”

With that,  Jungkook cups your cheek and moves forward to rub your noses together as his long, slender thumb caresses your blushed cheek.

In the room that is now twilight and shadow, Jungkook lies close enough for you to breathe in his alluring scent. His arms wrap around your back, and in one gentle pull, he is hovering above you, and your skin touches his. You feel his hand in your hair, how he loves the softness, watching it tumble as he releases it. His hand then moves down from your cheekbones to your lips.

“Kiss me, Y/N.” Jungkook requests with his husky voice and you don’t need to be told twice, reaching upwards to sync your lips together. The two of you move like partners in a dance that is written in your DNA. Your bodies fit together as if you were made just for this, to fall into one another, to feel this natural rhythm. 

Jungkook’s hands are all over you with a vehement urgency, removing the black vest top you had worn to bed. You pull back to admire him, moving his hair out of the way so you can see his beautiful eyes. With a laugh, he brings his face closer to yours, rubbing your noses together, letting your giggles echo inside his safety cocoon. You lock eyes for just a moment, just enough for you to feel safe with one another.

“My prettiest angel.” he whispers in your ear.

And then the heated kissing starts again.

Jungkook showers you with kisses, each one different from the last. He pulls you closer to him by your waist as he lets his hands roam your body freely. Jungkook bends down, brushing his lips gingerly over your cheek.

Despite it being a light touch, he still manages to send euphoric sensations through your nerves, making you shiver. The control this man has over you through the subtlest forms of love, is something you still cannot encapsulate.

“If you want us to stop, tell me now.”

You remain silent as he brushes his lips against your temple.

“Or now.” he mutters as he traces the line of your cheekbone with his index finger.

“Or-”

You reach up to interrupt him, pulling him down to collide your lips together, the rest of his words lost against your mouth. Jungkook kisses you gently, carefully as if you were made of porcelain and would break easily. And that’s exactly what you love about Jungkook.. how tender he is with you. How he always makes sure you’re comfortable enough to proceed.

You knot your fist in his hair, pulling Jungkook against you harder. After waiting for so long, a gentle kiss was not going to satisfy your needs. He groans softly, low in his throat, and his arms circle you, gathering you closer against him all whilst beginning to remove the remaining articles of unnecessary clothing that adorn the two of you.

Jungkook’s tongue licks a long stripe down your neck as his fingertips are whisked away in your hair. He holds the back of your head gently in place as he decorates your skin with deep purple stains of ardent worship, as though you’re his canvas. You hug him close to your throat and your naked breasts rest against his bare chest as you grind yourself up against him. Jungkook cups your face, bringing you to face the deep pink hues of his swollen lips as he presses a searing kiss that has you groaning into his mouth. Jungkook indulgently hums into the kiss, the sheets becoming messier as he leans forward, moving himself against you.

You mouth at him sensually as he tightens his grip on your torso, being sure to dote on each part of your skin he roams. He traces his finger down your chest, his lips following shortly after as he cherishes each inch of your skin. He stops at your breasts, breathing deeply on the already hardened nipples. You tug at his soft tresses as he groans against your nipples, before he begins kissing from the valley of your breasts.

“God, I love your tits.” He sighs out as he shifts towards your nipple, taking the hardened peak into his hot mouth. You arch against him, moaning pleasurably as you massage his scalp. It had been so long since you and Jungkook had time to be this close… this intimate.

Hearing you moan so audibly has Jungkook smirking against your soft skin, your reaction spurring him on. The way he was prodding at your nipple with his sinful tongue had you so utterly lost in his ministrations. He was sure to fondle your neglected breast, bringing his hand up to knead it. The pressure of his skillful tongue and the softness of his palm had you sighing out in bliss. Your moans filled the dimly lit room as you writhed underneath the man providing you with utmost pleasure, realising that this is just the beginning of his ministrations.

You pull Jungkook back against your lips, crashing them together once again. His slightly rough stubble rubbed against your skin in the most delicious way, far from uncomfortable. Jungkook cinched you further into him as he felt the silken strands of your hair. Stopping the soft assault against your mouth, he pulled back.

“I love you Jagi. I really do.”

You stared back at him, swollen lips, messy hair and watery eyes. Jungkook looked down at you through heavy lidded eyes, eagerly needing a response.

“I love you more, baby.” You whisper as you reach up to press a kiss between his brows. Your pussy clenches as your eyes are drawn down to his thick erection. The heat in your gut is only gushing more. You hear Jungkook click his tongue as he palms at himself in order to distract you from it.

You reach forward to grab, but Jungkook stops you before you can even do so. A simple shake of his head gives you the answer you were certainly not looking for. He can’t help but feel proud knowing that despite you both being together for so long, despite you both being in this position frequently, you still always managed to become amazed by the size of his length and what he could do with it.

But today? Today the air around you both is filled with a sense of shyness. It most definitely isn’t the first time for you both, but you’re so nervous you’d never know it. There’s something about Jungkook that lights you up from the inside. And something about you which melts all of Jungkook’s confidence to nothing at all. Touching him is like being handed the holy grail. Almost as if your heart is mended each time you are together even though you never knew it was broken.

Your eyes meet Jungkook’s again and your heartbeat increases. He stares at you with deep respect and adoration, it almost hurts. No one had ever paid this much attention to you before Jungkook. No one had loved you like this. No one had celebrated you in this manner. Jungkook changed that. He stayed with you in your quietness and kissed the scars you hid from others. He is your greatest and rarest treasure. A blessing that brought you inner peace.

Jungkook’s hand that lies on your waist gradually makes its way down to your hip, stopping at the very border of it. 

“If I may?” He reaches forward and whispers before nibbling on your ear.

You nod and that was all the consent Jungkook needed. He has you far too riled up for you to even consider stopping his ministrations. 

“I’m going to show you how much I love you.” He pauses. “Going to show my angel how happy she makes me.” He breathed out.

“Guk-”

His actions interrupt you as he leans forward to suck on the sweet spot right behind your ear. You inhale sharply and he uses this opportunity to trail his hand down further. Jungkook himself may have been shy, but his doings were far from it. You felt yourself heat up as his fingers reached your nether lips, caressing the soft and soaked area.

“Always so wet for me, aren’t you, Y/N?”

The use of your name had you clenching your pussy, which wasn’t missed by Jungkook. He smirks against the temple of your head, mentally giving himself a pat on the back. 

“Is my baby feeling shy?” He playfully teases as he faintly  brushes over your clit, refusing any direct contact with the place you need him the most. Jungkook’s other hand grabbed the back of your thigh, bringing it to rest at his waist, granting him the further access he needs. He presses himself closer to you, gently rubbing over your clit. His touch ignites something deep in your senses, you grind into his hand wanting more.

“I don’t want to play too much today.” He simply voices as he pulls his hand away. You whine underneath him, dissatisfied at the loss of his hands. Jungkook’s quick to make that disappear as he lifts your thighs over his shoulders, letting them rest there delicately. You slightly relax, knowing what’s coming next. 

Jungkook slides to rest on his lean stomach as he begins to kiss from your ankle upwards, his hand always just a little higher than the gentle kisses he presses everywhere. You feel your back arch in anticipation knowing where his sinful mouth will reach soon. Your head rocks back as he inches towards your core, ready to moan his name as he devours you wholly.

Jungkook breathes against your soaked folds making you quiver with arousal. He massages the inside of your thighs, attempting to calm your nerves. “Always so pretty for me.” He praises before reaching forward to press a kiss against your clit, making you shudder with  sensitivity. 

“You’ve missed this, haven’t you my love? Missed having my tongue all over your messy cunt? He asks as you run your fingers through his dark locks, tightening the grip on his scalp. You arch your hips into his eager mouth, striving to gain some form of contact. 

“Please.. Jungkook, please.” You breathlessly moan out, patience being a virtue you can no longer abide by. Jungkook gives in to your pleading, knowing that he too, needs to have a taste. Needs to subdue the longing of being deep within you.

Jungkook uses the tip of his tongue to lightly trace your nether lips. You squirm underneath him, moaning his name needily as you try to chase more of his tongue. Jungkook feels turned on seeing you lost in the clouds of ecstasy despite him doing so little. 

“Guk… please, I need more.” You impatiently whine, trying to provoke further action. And so he does. He finally accepts that he’s perhaps tortured you a little too long now. “If it’s too much, princess, be sure to tell me.” is all he musters as he licks a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. He allows himself to latch onto your quivering cunt, sucking on your labia and making out with it to his heart’s content. 

He buries himself further as he skims with his lips, gathering all your wetness on his tongue as you mewl at the orgasmic sensations he provides. He grants you no mercy as he uses his masterful tongue to eat you up. Jungkook had missed this deeply. Missed seeing you lost in the throes of pleasure with not a single care in the world.

You buck your hips closer to his face, begging for more through your actions. Jungkook flattens his tongue against your cunt, sucking greedily on the pulsing bud, groaning at the sweet flavour he had so dearly missed. 

“Oh god, Jungkook please. I- I need more!” You give up trying to be quiet, chasing your high being your main priority at the moment.

“Baby wants more?” Jungkook smirks against you before he repeatedly licks up your slit, lapping at you shamelessly. Jungkook takes you by surprise as he sinks two of his long fingers into your leaking pussy. He curls them at the right spot and you whimper out loudly, gripping his hair tighter, not even considering the pain it could cause him.

“Jungkook.. Kook.. You can’t just..” You attempt to mutter out, but the excitement of reaching your high overtakes you and you moan his name instead. He pushes them in and out of you fast and hard whilst teasingly slurping at your juices. You know Jungkook is keen to make you come, and he knows he’s reaching his goal by the way your brows furrow and how you haven’t stopped biting your lips.

“Almost there.. aren’t you, angel?”

“Mmm, Guk, please. Please!” You have no clue what you’re begging for, crying out lustily. 

“My baby is so gorgeous. So beautiful for me. My good girl.” Jungkook coos at you, the praises making you need more. Jungkook closes his lips around your clit and sucks it hard as his fingers relentlessly fuck into you. You arch and attempt to push his fingers out. Jungkook understands what you need without words and withdraws them from deep within, instead harshly rubbing at your clit in regular motions, watching you squirt on his tongue and gush all over the sheets.

You mewl distinctly as Jungkook groans at the sight of the mess in front of him. You’re panting hard as he encourages you to continue releasing all your cum. 

“All of this for me, jagi? Come on, show me how much more there is. Show me how good I make you feel.” 

You gasp and twitch from the oversensitivity of Jungkook’s ministrations as he rushes to hover above you, pressing gentle kisses to your face and wiping the tears which had formed.  Jungkook praises you and you don’t fail to blush at his devotion, feeling a sense of pride wash over yourself as he repeatedly refers to you as his good girl. 

“Thank you.” you mutter as you reach to latch your lips onto Jungkook’s, him shaking his head no as he brushes the drenched tendrils of hair from your face. A gentle smile adorns his face as he whispers back an “Always” making you feel flustered all over again. You notice Jungkook looking a little too calm and peer down once again at his painfully hard cock. 

“Let me jus-”

Once again, Jungkook interrupts you as he grabs your hand, stopping it from reaching its desired destination.

“Not today, jagi. I don’t need your hand today.”

“Hmm?” You mutter, confusion written over your face. 

“I just…”

“You just?”

“I just want to make love to my princess.” Jungkook whispers against your lips as he presses his hard length against your soaked core, casting it against your slickness making you whine again. 

Jungkook kisses you so gently, so tenderly, you feel the grand amount of love he has for you through the simple movements of his lips against yours. The two of you continue to make out languidly, the moonlight spilling from your sheer curtains illuminating your surroundings, making it all the more intimate. All the more magical.

He leans forward pressing careful kisses to your bare shoulder up to your ear. 

“I want to make love to you, Y/N. I want to show you how loved you are.”

You bring your dainty hands to rest against his bare chest as he moves to rub your noses together. 

“I want to feel you, Jungkook. I need you.”

And that small whisper is all Jungkook needs as he wraps your legs around his waist and lines himself up against your entrance. Jungkook glances down at where your bodies are soon to connect and smiles as he prods your wet and desperate flesh with his tip. 

“Is this okay, jagi?” He delicately inquires, the warmth in his eyes making it evident that he only wants to provide you with utter comfort and nothing else. “Mhm.” You answer as you move your hands towards the nape of his neck, interlacing them.

Jungkook steadies his hand on your pillow as he pushes himself into your wetness, groaning pleasurably. You arch into him, familiarising yourself with his thickness, the feeling still somehow being foreign. The two of you curse as Jungkook nestles his cock into you, your tightness spurring him on further.

“I’ve missed this.” Jungkook moans out loudly as he softly moves forward to settle into you. “I’ve missed the way your walls clench around me.” You whimper at his words and the delicious stretch, your chest rising as you anticipate his next measure. Jungkook gently pulls out of you, only to penetrate you deeper as he hits your cervix. 

“I want to love you. Softly. Slowly. Take my time and worship you the way you deserve..” He groans as he glides himself out of you once again, your pooling wetness allowing him to drag himself at ease despite the tightness. You are already filled to the brim, the feeling of home apparent to you both.

“I want to kiss every inch of your perfect body. Love you the way you love me, my love.” 

You moan at his confession, tears threatening to spill as the thickness of Jungkook’s cock stretches you out flawlessly. You clench around him tighter which makes Jungkook moan, reaching forward to kiss you harder. 

You whine into his mouth, urging him to move.

And so he does.

Jungkook sets a steady and sensuous pace, pressing his hips into you keenly as he moves in and out of you in a languid manner. He presses sweet kisses to your lips and cheeks, breathing deeply as he softly fucks your dripping pussy. Jungkook looks at you with all the tenderness he could gather, moving his hand to slide at the base of your spine, pulling you further onto his cock. Jungkook presses your foreheads together as he continues his tender thrusts. 

“I love you so much, so much it hurts.”

Jungkook’s precious words shelter you. Protect you. Make you feel whole. They tend to your hidden wounds, caressing over them in the most soft manner. Your heart flutters at his confession, making you wrap your legs around him tighter as you rut against him trying to match the rhythm of his thrusts. The slightly harsh rocking of Jungkook’s hips provided your clit with the relief it needed. Your cum was already pooling beneath you as he kissed the tears of his passion away from your eyes. Jungkook takes your hand, resting it against your head, entwining your nimble fingers with his own. The slight breeze from the air outside and the warmness your room was providing was the perfect mix, making you feel all the more loved. All the more safe with him. 

Your mouths were leaving sloppy kisses wherever they could reach, your sweaty bodies entangled together and your breasts suffused with red from Jungkook’s earlier doings. The both of you felt divine, the wetness all around you being your greatest evidence. The two of you were so lost in one another, so infatuated by each other’s presence, you don’t even realise the mess you had created. You squeezed Jungkook’s hand as he picked up the speed of his thrusts, ensuring to provide you with the ease you needed. 

“I love this.. God, I fucking love the way you make me feel. The way you love me.” You spill, making Jungkook penetrate you deeper. Words were hard to muster and so you refrain from speaking further, simply letting your begging moans inform him how good he makes you feel. How heavenly he makes you feel with every precise thrust.

You don’t need to communicate, Jungkook’s hard and animalistic groans echoing inside your little bedroom are enough on both of your behalfs. He pulls out lightly, before grinding deeper as he presses his taut body against your smaller self, provoking you towards another orgasm. You claw at his back, wanting him closer and so he tightens his hold against you, kissing at your neck as he whispers sweet nothings and innocent promises into your sensitive ears. His rhythmic hips not halting their pace, sensually drawing you towards your end. 

“You’re doing so well for me baby, such a good girl.” And you know he means each and every encouragement that leaves his lips, a reflection of the pure love he feels for you. You thread your fingers through his hair as he sinks himself into you again, hitting against your g-spot, making your legs quiver and him grunting at the feeling of your wetness pooling on his cock. 

Your moans become louder and Jungkook recognises that you need more friction, bringing his hand down to rub against your clit. The sweet pressure as he perfectly thrusts into you has you curling your toes, the feeling of him stretching you wide and making you more wet was exactly all you needed right now. “Almost done, I promise. My baby is so perfect. isn’t she?” He hummed against the temple of your head. 

“Jungkook.” You moan in utter euphoria as he picks up his pace, slamming into you with  completely new force, ensuring he syncs with the thumbing against your clit. Jungkook begins to move harsher, ramming into you hard, hitting each pleasurable spot whilst holding your body down with his strong yet soft hands. 

His actions contrast with the softness of his kisses and the integrity of the loving praises he showers you with. His eyes never once leave you, watching you bite your lips, watching your eyes become more watery, watching the sweat begin to form at your baby hairs.

Jungkook swears he has never seen a sight so gorgeous, so breathtaking. You reach to cup his cheek, telling him repeatedly how much you love him and he gently nods at you, a shy smile breaking out on his face while his pace inside you never changes. 

Your hands find Jungkook’s toned back once again, scratching down it as you feel your insides constrict, the coil threatening to break as Jungkook’s pelvis and skin hits against yours repeatedly. You melt into his body as you seek the comfort Jungkook provides you with his sweet, blissful love. You both moan in sync and mirror each other's expressions as you internally thank the heavens above for the love that has been graced upon you. 

A series of ‘I love yous’ and ‘You’re all mine’ are heard from the two of you as Jungkook paints your insides white. You feel his cock pulsing as he fills you to the very brim, eliciting a distinct whimper out of you. You leak your wetness all over yours and Jungkook’s legs as he rests his head against your shoulder, telling you that you’ve done well through kisses on your warm skin. Jungkook pushes into you harder as if he wants you both to be one just a little longer. As if he wants to melt into you completely. You run your fingers through his damp hair as he finally stills.

“You always feel so amazing.” Jungkook chuckles, evoking a giggle out of you. He slips his softening cock out you carefully, being sure not to hurt you. You wince slightly at the loss of close contact, wanting to experience this all again. Jungkook pecks your lips before moving to rest next to you, splaying his hand against your stomach and resting his chin on your shoulder.

He had moved from Busan to Seoul. Travelled from America to Europe. Europe to Asia. He had felt safe, secure and content wherever he went. Yet the feeling of home, the feeling of evermore was only ever found with you.

“You’re mine.” You softly whisper.

“I’m all yours.”

The room is now silent, the only noise being heard is the deep panting coming from the both of you and the rain that patters against your window. Cleaning your surroundings and yourselves is far from your mind, Jungkook’s presence and warmth being the only aftercare you need. You wrap your arm around him and nuzzle into his neck as he pulls you closer, straightening what he can of your tousled hair. The breeze from the outside world cools you both down, bringing in a sense of balance; the wisdom to move yet at a steady pace. 

You and Jungkook both have your eyes closed, calming down from your highs whilst resting in one another’s embrace. You feel yourself finally drifting away to dreamland in the presence of your safe place. The beginning of this new spring day was like a love song, one that morphed from a melancholy slowness to a happier and more uplifting tune.

The two of you are relaxed, as the early spring breeze brings for you a sense of hope. An awakening magic inhabits the room, a sensation of an old-spirit rekindling and seeking to knit together all that is good. 

Feeling at peace in the arms of your lover, you know you are safe. Jungkook presses you against himself firmly and before you slip away to a more tranquil mindset, you feel a sweet kiss being placed on your forehead and you know that you are in a flower meadow with Jungkook, surrounded by the colour of his love for you. The thousands of petals representing the thoughts he had. Feeling at ease, you settle well into him.  Every muscle’s tension, lost to the calm ripened air. 

You are home. 

You always are, when you’re with him.

And there we go. I hope you enjoyed! Feedback and comments are always appreciated <3

Until next time,

🤍

[wintfleur]

Ok can we get a blurb when Rutger gets hurt and goes to the hospital? And how Stella reacted

౨ৎ tears, wishes and kit-kats

°. — pairings ( Estella Hughes oc! X Rutger McGroarty )

°. — details ( g; some angst because rutger gets hurt and Stella is worried, some fluff. w; none really. wc 1.4K)

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I AM SO SO SO SORRY for how long it took me to get this out, I hope you enjoy it !!! Please don’t be a silent reader )

°. — ( feel free to send any requests of things you would like to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts! I would absolutely love that! Please comment if you would like to be added to the tag list! )

au masterlist — you can find asks under #💌stellahughes!

°. — asks about stella and rut are under #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨🩷୧˚ stella & rut!

It was a horrifying sight, to watch as your boyfriend gets slammed into the ice, only to be taken off the ice on a stretcher. And that’s exactly what Stella had to go through, feeling completely useless and scared as she stood up from her seat, tears were already rolling down her cheeks as her friends tried to reassure her that he's going to be fine. Stella couldn't focus on her friend's words, or the loud screams and shouts coming from all around the rink, all she could focus on was getting to rutger as soon as she could. 

Stella was silent during the car ride to the hospital besides the small sniffles she let out, she couldn't stop crying since they left the rink. Stella was quick to respond to all the texts from Rutgers mom, letting the worried mother know that she was already on the way to the hospital and that she would keep them updated until they could make it to the hospital themselves. 

When Lily pulled into the hospital, the trio rushed into the hospital looking for the room rutger was in. Lily led the way, a panicked Stella being guided by Carmen who was holding her hand, doing her best to reassure her best friend. The image of rutger slamming into the ground, the look of pain on his face and him being on the stretcher kept on flashing through her mind. She would never get that image out of her head. 

After asking a receptionist for directions and a quiet elevator ride, the trio of girls stood in front of Rutgers room. Carmen brought up to Stella that she and Lily would go find a vending machine and get some snacks, so the couple would be alone for a little bit. “It's going to be okay Stella, we'll text you when we're on our way back” Carmen smiled at Stella, squeezing her arm reassuringly before her and Lily walked down the hallway to find the vending machine. 

Stella turned to face the door, her eyes looking at the plaque that had the number of the room on it. 204. Stella let out a nervous and deep breath before she softly knocked on the door to alert that she was coming in. Stella slowly opened the door and peeked her head into the room, her eyes immediately being drawn to the bed in the middle of the room. Rutgers eyes are lifted from his phone where he was trying to text Stella with one hand and to the door, when he hears the knock and the door open. 

“Whoa whoa don't move so fast I ⸺ ” Stella quickly spoke as she rushed to rutgers side, one of her hands moving to his bare shoulder while the other was on his chest, softly stopping him from fully sitting up in the hospital bed. As soon as rutger had seen his girlfriend he had quickly moved to sit up to move closer to her, a look of pain decorating his face at the fast movement. Stella spoke softly, her tone showing just how scared she was for him as she continued speaking, tears brimming in her eyes at the sight of rutger “I’ll come to you.” 

Rutger moved his arm that didn't have the iv in, up and rested his hand on top of the one Stella had on his chest, softly grasping it in his hand and bringing it up to his face; leaning his face into the soft skin of Stella's palm as he slowly leaned back in the bed. Letting himself relax now that she was here. Stella looks away from rutger when she hears the sound of someone clearing their throat and it was then when she realized they were not alone. “I’ll give you guys some privacy, I'm gonna go call coach ⸺ Tell him the news” Brain, the head trainer for the hockey team tells the couple, giving them a small smile before leaving the room.

Stella looks back at Rutger when she hears the soft click of the door closing, and she drops her bag into the chair that was by his bed and moved even closer to him, a few tears slipping out of her eyes and rolling down her cheeks as she really takes in the sight of her boyfriend in the hospital bed. Rutger looks up at his girlfriend and his heart clenches in sadness when he sees the tears “I’m okay pretty girl, please don't cry” rutger mumbled as he used the hand, he was holding to pull her closer, letting her sit on the edge of the bed. 

“I was so scared rut, seeing you down on the ice . . . seeing you get pulled off on that stretcher” Stella sniffed as she shook her head, trying to shake the image out of her mind. She has seen her brothers and her friends getting hit and injured during a game, but this time it was different. The fear she felt was different . . . she never wanted to feel it again. 

“Hey ⸺ Hey, feel” Rutger quickly cut stella off, he could see the wheels spinning in her head, she was starting to panic the more she thought of it. Rutger moved her soft and cold hand from his face to his bare chest and rested it over his heart, letting her feel the rhythmic beat of his heart. “See it's still beating, I’m okay stella” he whispered reassuringly, his eyes not leaving hers. 

Stella nods and brings her free hand to wipe off her tears and the small trace of mascara on her cheeks, she tries to give him a smile but rutger can see right through it and her quivering lip didn't help hide her true feelings. “C’mere pretty girl it's okay” rutger whispered as he gently pulled her down to lay on his chest. Stella closed her eyes and let herself relax against her boyfriend, the rhythmic sound of Rutgers' heartbeat soothing Stella and helping her calm down. 

Rutger used his free hand to softly play with Stella's hair, knowing that it would help calm her down. He hated seeing stella so upset but it also felt a little nice seeing how much she cared for him ⸺ such a weird feeling he didn't know how to explain. The couple stayed like that in silence for a few minutes, just taking in the feeling of being in each other's arms again. But when Stella felt that familiar uncomfortableness in her back from leaning down for so long in an awkward position, she knew she had to sit up.

Stella sat up and softly pulled her hand out of Rutgers gentle grip, she brought both of her hands up to her face and wiped away any tears and mascara off her face. She let out a heavy sigh and looked up from the hospital floor, giving rutger an embarrassed smile  . . . she hated crying in front of people ⸺ which does not work in her favor since she's quite the crybaby. 

“m’sorry” stella whispered with her adorable bashful smile, her fingers were nervously fidgeting in her lap. Now that she had calmed down the self-doubt came creeping in, and now she was starting to worry that she had overreacted. Rutger shakes his head softly with his own smile, reaching his hand up to softly take Stella's eyelash off her cheek. He held it out in front of her and whispered back “Make a wish.” 

Stella couldn't stop the loud giggle to escape past her lips when she heard rutgers words, she opens her mouth to tell him how silly that is but closes it when she sees the sweet but serious look in his eyes. Stella let out a soft hum and leaned closer to his hand, closing her eyes and softly blowing the eyelash as she made her wish. I wish that rutger will never get hurt again. Stella is pulled out of her sweet wish by the sound of the door loudly opening, causing her to flinch away from her boyfriend at the intrusion. 

“Oh, we totally interrupted something” Lily muttered to Carmen as she nudged her with her elbow, noticing the flushed cheeks of the couple. Lily had to stop herself from giggling at the small glare rutger sends her for running there moment. Carmen's eyes widen and she gives the couple a bashful smile as she holds up her arms that were filled with many kit-kat bars, her sweet voice breaking the silence “We got your favorite rutger!” 

°. — taglist ( @privatemythss @jjurajslafkovsky @cixrosie @toasttt11 )

[aloesarchives]

Jujutsu Kaisen Lore Headcanons for "Toji Lives/Megumi Cock Blocks Toji" AU

Warning: Female/Afab! Reader, Author(me) being a really fucking annoying narrator, Swearing, Inaccuracy to the anime and manga, Things that don't make sense but are trying to, Switching between reader and you, Mentions of OCs but reader is not one, Reader is highkey a marysue/OP

!!Disclaimer!!: These are my PERSONAL headcanons, thoughts, and opinions on how Toji would be like if he was alive and would act after the Hidden Inventory arc. Or how the events of Jujutsu Kaisen would be different b/c of reader and Toji being alive. These headcanons also explain Reader’s role and place in this AU how her presence changes many things.

Series: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Toji x Mama!/Fem!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 5.5k words

Summary: Headcanons for the “Toji lives”/”Megumi cock blocks Toji” AU, and Mom!Reader being a part of and affects each timeline.

(A/N: I will have a separate post that will further explain the Shibuya arc and post Shibuya onwards with the “Toji lives” AU very soon! I know I said I'll have some posts ready after my lastest one but I was having fun and enjoying myself with the holidays that I kinda forgot about them. I promise I'll upload those posts within January! I apologize for my inconsistency!) [!!Unedited and not proof-read as of December 31 2023 12:05am!!]

General Reader Headcanons:

Reader is roughly around 33-34 during the Plasma Star Vessel arc(Year: 2006). Reader is also around her mid 40s (45-46) in present day Jujutsu Kaisen. Toji is roughly around the same age.

Reader’s technique is exclusive towards her, but the only time someone shared a technique like hers was during the Heian Era/Time Period where one of her ancestors is said to have the exact technique like hers but with personal different methods.

Reader hates the Jujutsu elders and higher ups for the schemes they have brewed. One which ultimately caused the Japanese faction of her clan to dwindle in size when she was around 8 years old. Reader is a certified hater of the elders and higher ups of Jujutsu Society, it runs in the family.

Reader's sorcerer grade is officially recognized to be around Semi-grade 1 to Grade 1 sorcerer. But in actuality, Reader is classified as a Special Grade sorcerer b/c of the rarity, nature, power, and versatility of the technique itself.

Reader is a mentor/motherly figure to Satoru. You are the closest thing Satoru has to a parent/guardian so Satoru favors you over many adults/older people.

Reader is considered a part-time sorcerer as she holds down a full time job in the real world after graduating. This is mostly due to her not wanting to be at the beck and call of the higher ups and Jujutsu Elders doing their bidding, but occasionally does help and do favors for certain people like Yaga. She only became a part-time Jujutsu High teacher shortly before the Hidden Inventory Arc.

Reader met Toji around her early 20s when he freshly exiled himself from the Zen’in clan. She ran into him during a favor she was doing for Yaga. She was on a retrieval mission to get a curse tool for Jujutsu High’s inventory. On her way to the location, she was ambushed by a curse. Before she could exorcize it, the curse sputtered and coughed up its blood as a blade pierced its chest and it dropped dead. With no curse energy, Reader was prepared to fight only to see a strongly built man with a small scar on his lips. She meets Toji, and funny enough he had the curse weapon she was looking for. She was trying to negotiate with him to get the weapon. She didn’t have to for long as Toji just straight up gave it to her and said, “You’re a feisty one, aren’t you? I’ll give it to you because you’re cute. Until I see you again, Ms. Sorcerer~.”

Then Reader randomly runs into Toji both on assignments and in real life. It was at random but in a consistent way. Eventually, Toji starts living with Reader because he is lowkey homeless. Reader first fell for Toji but Toji fell HARD for Reader. Always accompanying her when she has to run errands. Always watching out for her and in the shadows. Hell, he started asking Shui for information on certain people to make sure you’re not getting yourself into trouble. He also starts asking Shui for better paying jobs that he could do in a day then take a few days to complete.

Toji falls hard because of Reader’s understanding and compassion towards him and his past, which she was more than understanding of his feelings towards the Zen’in clan for their god awful mistreatment and ostracized Toji from Jujutsu Society. Yet he couldn’t understand why you had tears in your eyes when you pulled him in for a hug, saying that you’ll be his family now and he can rely on you. Thus, that’s when Toji said, “I need to fucking marry this woman or I swear to God I will assassinate every sorcerer in the world.”

After a few years, Reader and Toji get married and Toji takes Reader’s two last names: (L/N) Fushiguro. Fushiguro wasn’t originally a part of Reader’s last name, but decided to take it up as an alias when Reader briefly left Jujutsu society to live among non-sorcerers. The last name came from a distant relative a few generations back that was married into the family.

After around 29, Toji and Reader had Tsumiki. Then a year later, they had Megumi at 30. 

Though your place is small, it was homey and cozy for your little family. Life was good until the year where Tsumiki turns 4 and Megumi turns 3. Toji started having missions where he was coming home less and less frequently. It was starting to bother you because he was starting to miss out on Tsumiki and Megumi growing up. More so, it was devastating to you when Megumi told you he could barely remember anything of Toji, he even faintly describes Toji’s looks but it is starting to get foggy. 

It was becoming hard to support your daughter and son on your own, so when Toji came home one night you told him your thoughts. Then an argument happened, not a loud one to wake up the kids, but you were putting Toji in his place. Toji was trying to justify that it was his work and they have been demanding him recently, that it was the good of your family as they were paying him more money to do them. This was when you started questioning Toji’s occupation and what he does. Toji gets irritated about you questioning his line of work and tries to repeat again that it was for the sake of your family and nothing more. 

However, Reader is unaware that Toji made a deal with the Zen’in clan to sell off Megumi when he’s around 5-6. He couldn’t tell you this because he knew how you would react so he was going to keep it a secret for the time being. However, he would never tell after the argument the two of you had.

The next thing you know, Toji drops an envelope on the kitchen table and grabs his packed duffle bag as he heads towards the door. You tried to stop him but he says that he needs to leave for a while but he promises he will be back. Kisses reader on the lips and forehead before leaving their apartment. 

Reader is hurt and confused until she opens the envelope to see a check that’s already signed. It has $5000 dollars in it. It would last you at most 5 weeks for you and your children. Yet, that was the only check received from Toji as he went completely off the grid. No amount of resources would amount in a helpful way to finding what happened to your husband. 

That was when reader was assigned an important mission for the first time in years. Where you and another teacher, Maho(JJK OC) would act as guardians/chaperones to Gojo and Geto. Your jobs were to oversee and supervise the two students and report anything about the mission.

“Toji lives”/ “Megumi cockblocks Toji” AU:

So basically in this AU, not only does Toji live. But mostly everyone else does live, or somewhere along the lines of dead and alive. Well, minus Junpei and Mai. But that’s just me being blissfully ignorant of the canon timeline and canceling most of the events out and just changing them. 

So everything in the Plasma Star Vessel arc happens but the only thing that changes is Riko and Kuroi being alive. The way that it happens is you were sent ahead to do some investigating of the Jujutsu High area to see if it’s safe. Then out of nowhere, you were asked to speak to Tengen themself. Unbeknownst to you, you were unaware that Toji, your estranged husband, had attacked Gojo which forced Geto, Riko, Kuroi, and Maho(JJK OC) to run and leave Gojo to fight him.

You were basically told by Tengen to respect the last wishes of Riko Amanai before they merged. But they popped that statement out, you responded with, “what if her last wish is to continue on living and not merge?” At first, Tengen opposed you for your question. Saying it would throw off the balance of their stabilization and balance of Jujutsu Society. However, you countered by saying it’s respecting Riko’s wish and the girl's wish to keep on living. Meaning that technically you’re honoring her wish and you believed that she deserved to live her life.

Plus you argued that there are few Plasma Star Vessels out there, like Yuki Tsukumo, who didn’t merge with Tengen are completely fine. And Tengen didn’t suffer from not merging with her or the other vessels. So after some thought, Tengen briefly allowed Riko to live and not merge with her. However, in exchange, you would have to find a substitute host in place of Riko. While it wouldn’t be the same, Tengen said it would be easier to merge with another host that had curse energy or was a Jujutsu Sorcerer. 

Meanwhile, Geto, Kuroi, and Maho escort Riko in front of Tengen’s chamber. For a bit, Geto offers Riko a choice to leave with Maho and him. To not merge and live her life out. Riko expresses this but before she could allow Geto to take her hand, Maho gets shot in the throat. The bullet was meant for Riko but Maho’s change in positioning took the hit for her instead unintentionally. Toji reveals himself from the shadows and says he’ll take Riko dead or alive. Geto tells Riko and Kuroi to run while Geto fights Toji with Maho supporting him the best that she can after learning Toji killed Satoru.

Suguru and Maho get defeated while Kuroi is knocked out by Toji and takes Riko to the Time Vessel association. You come out of the chamber to only find Geto and Maho bleeding out, you take them to the infirmary and have Shoko heal them. Suguru tells you that a man with no curse energy ambushed them, killed Satoru, and took Riko.  ‘Wait, a curseless man? But. . . that can’t be’ You snapped out of it and left Suguru to find Gojo’s body to take back. You found where you assumed you would find his body but all you would find was a large blood smear on the pavement. So you went to find Riko in the association. What you didn’t know is that Gojo beat you to it. You snuck in and when they were about to kill Riko, you snatched her away and brought her back to Jujutsu High. However, you asked Riko about Gojo’s whereabouts. She said she last saw him fight a tall man with a small scar on his right lip. Your blood runs cold as you continue to drag her towards the school. She didn’t understand why you stopped talking, but the look of fear on your face told her something.

As Gojo and Toji duke it out for the second time, it was Suguru that caused Satoru to misfire his Hollow Purple at Toji and narrowly missed him. Toji knew that he lost the fight because he would’ve died if he got hit. Let alone, get defeated one-way or another. Since Suguru told Gojo that Riko’s retrieval was a success, Toji knew he wouldn’t get paid for the job and just gave up. He, surprisingly, surrendered himself to the two and was taken to an underground bunker where Toji was heavily sealed and chained up. Doesn’t even bother fighting back at all. Though the mission was a technical success, Tengen didn’t merge with the chosen vessel and there was a sorcerer killer on the premises of the school.

Since you were in charge of the mission and the only one uninjured, you were held accountable and take full responsibility for what has happened. The Higher-ups and Elders were not happy, to say the least, with the results. But specifically that you allowed the rest to get hurt and let Tengen’s vessel free, ceasing the merging. However, they weren’t on Reader’s ass for the first two. They were mostly on her ass because they discovered the identity of the sorcerer killer is Toji. And somehow figured out Reader’s marriage with him. Because of this, they were going to execute Toji and put Reader on trial.

This was also the moment reader’s suspicions were right with Toji doing all of this. She was going through the ringer of emotions when revealed the information in the same room with the very people she despised. So she kept to herself and remained calm. She proposed a deal to them that she knew they would consider. In exchange for Toji’s life and freedom, the reader gave these conditions:

Toji’s weapons would be heavily sealed and hidden away where no one can obtain them. Their whereabouts will be unknown and Reader and a select few would know about the location. 

Toji cannot enter Jujutsu Society/High without Reader. For at least a year, Toji can’t be near any sorcerer or enter any Jujutsu building. Reader is essentially Toji’s handler and responsibility. Toji has to be with Reader at all times when on Jujutsu Premises.

If Toji acts out of line, he will be immediately executed. Reader will also be executed or exiled from Jujutsu Society. However, if Reader dies, Toji will be executed. If Toji somehow dies, Reader would be somewhat safe. But if Reader dies, Toji will die with her. Reader’s life is in the hands of Toji’s behavior and actions. While Reader’s entire life and existence is the reason why Toji lives and her dying means he dies too.

These conditions were simple enough but the higher ups were still doubtful. But Reader also adds that after a year, Toji could go on missions if it involved a reward. Mentioning that Toji would be a vital asset to them and keeping him on house arrest wouldn’t be ideal. Reader tells the higher ups that Toji was exiled from the Zen’in clan years ago and would only listen to her. She implies that Toji could wreak havoc on Jujutsu society if it wasn’t for her.

With reluctance, the higher ups agreed to Reader’s terms but warned she would be on a watchlist. Reader just waves it off. Yet after she leaves the room and goes outside, the weight of her emotions get the best of her and she cracks under it all. This was a lot of process and bear but she was the only one to do this. 

Strangely enough, a distant relative of reader’s contacted her about moving into an old home of theirs. No prices or charges, they just needed to give the house to her since they were moving back into the clan’s main residence. Reader was like okay, thanks for the free house. Since there wasn’t much at the old apartment, they didn’t need to pack much.

Once Satoru and Suguru were healed up, Reader tasked the two of them to bring Megumi and Tsumiki to the dorms temporarily until the house was ready and Reader dealt with Toji. Satoru may or may not have slipped about Megumi’s true heritage, causing Suguru to bonk him on the head. Megumi doesn’t want to go with the two men but after telling him and his sister that Raeder sent for them, he and his sister followed them.

Reader basically was taken to where her husband was held. She only had less than an hour to talk to him so she had to speedrun their talk and leave some things out. It was strange to her to see her husband, the notorious sorcerer killer, chained up and not fighting his restraints. It looked like he hadn’t eaten in days and the color in his eyes was dulled out. But when you entered the chamber and made your presence known, he perked up because he recognized your footsteps.

As much you wanted to comfort and coddle him, you were furious and beyond disappointed with him. Toji admits his faults and was okay with dying. During which he reluctantly revealed to Reader that he sold Megumi to the Zen’in clan for his technique. With this newfound information, Reader is heartbroken and slaps Toji square in the face. Though she didn’t want to, he did deserve it. So Reader explains the conditions she made to grant Toji his freedom and life back, if he so chooses. Or he can get executed, the choice is his.

Toji doesn’t deserve a second chance but Reader offered one to him. While putting herself and life at risk for a bum who ended up abandoning his family. Reader said he can clean himself up, to step up as a husband and father. The only term she was willing to give Toji if he chooses to come back. In a way, Reader was giving signals to Toji that she still needs him and doesn’t want him to die. Toji thinks about it. He would be restricted to being at home and the outside world, while being on a leash by Reader when entering Jujutsu Society which he doesn’t mind the thought of.

Toji makes his decision by agreeing to the conditions while also promising to pull himself up. Although it made you smile, it disappeared when you remember how your children would react to seeing their absent father again and trying to adjust to his constant presence. Toji said he’ll try his best, but he wouldn’t guarantee Megumi and Tsumiki’s approval. But it didn’t matter to him because his family needs him and he would damn to waste his second chance knowing many don’t get any.

So it was settled. Toji is freed because of Reader with the somewhat of an approval from the Higher-ups, the house was ready to move with the kiddos, and everything was starting to set in motion. It was a hard adjustment for the kids in this new chapter of their life. Moving into a new, nicer, and bigger home than the previous smaller apartment was a big change. Another big change was seeing their father for the first time in almost months. Tsumiki was a little happy to see Toji back at home with them but Megumi was different. In fact, he was indifferent about Toji’s return and tried to completely ignore him. You and Toji completely understand Megumi’s feelings about his dad suddenly popping up again out of nowhere after months of not coming home. You reassured your son that Toji’s staying for good and that it’s okay for him to not accept his dad's presence right away or force himself to.

It wasn’t what it used to be but Reader didn’t mind it. Since Toji was on house arrest in the meantime, he was on house-husband duty. Since you were now working as a full-time Jujutsu teacher(2nd-3rd year teacher) and Sorcerer, you were away from home a lot during the morning and afternoons. Toji struggled in the beginning but he really managed and became good at it. He was an excellent cook, cleaner, errand runner, and even handyman. You still handled the money but Toji never asked you for more than what was needed. He started picking up Megumi and Tsumiki from school, making the other parents drool over him. He honestly likes the domestic aspect of this part of his life, something he never imagined when he was younger.

You knew it was bad but you asked Satoru a big favor. Since Megumi’s sale to the Zen’in clan was still up, you asked Satoru to postpone it or intervene in a way. Reader would have the power but her clan faction isn’t what it used to be and the Zen’in clan hates her guts for marrying Toji. Satoru agrees to help but it would mean that he would have partial guardianship over Megumi. That was fine with you but explaining this to your young son would be hard, considering he will be training and spending some of his time with one of his mother’s student.

Satoru and Suguru become older brother figures to the kids and Shoko being a big sister. They would come to your house to visit just to see the kids. It was challenging at the start since Toji was there and a constant reminder of their weakness. But you talked with them about it, saying that they don’t have to care for your husband and hate him all they want. But never hate the children. This was helpful to Suguru since Riko and Kuroi were living on Jujutsu Tech grounds as a safety precaution since there were still hits on Riko. You also noticed Suguru's depression while soul-searching. You always told him that you considered him family and let him know to come to you for help when he needs it.

Reader is the sole reason Suguru hasn’t fallen to the dark-side and became a curse user. However, he and Satoru almost became one a year later. 

A year after the Hidden Inventory incident, Nanami and Haibara were sent on a mission to exorcize a grade 2 curse. You accompanied them because you knew the area better and felt the need to watch the students. However, the information was completely wrong as the curse they were facing was a grade 1 curse that manipulated the earth and surroundings. While Nanami and Haibara had minimal to mild injuries, you were badly injured and bleeding everywhere. While you were able to exorcize the curse, you were hanging on by a thread because your main priority was the safety of the two students. Though you were healed, you did have a faint scar and you were out from doing missions for about a couple of months. Highkey traumatized the two students because their teacher was about to be murdered and they couldn’t do anything about it.

What they didn’t know was that the mission was a ploy to have Reader be assassinated while carelessly adding kids to the mix. All done by the Higher-ups and encouragement of the Zen’in clan. The only reason this information was spilled out was Toji was visiting you in the infirmary and his super hearing heard a low grade Zen’in sorcerer spill it out. He, along with Satoru and Suguru, forced the sorcerer to spill anything they knew. The sorcerer revealed that Reader had been on a watchlist and knew she was dangerous to them so they tried making her death a tragic accident. Surprisingly, Toji and Satoru had this moment of truce between each other. It was interesting to Suguru because both of the two men hate each other’s guts but decided to work together if it involved you. They would’ve stormed in and decimated the Higher-ups and Zen’in clan, which Suguru didn’t mind. 

It was Shoko that retrieved them, saying that you were awake and wanted to talk to them. The three begrudgingly made their way to your room. Reader essentially argues that going on a killing spree would make them curse users, they are just tools for the higher-ups and would turn on them at any given chance. She reminds them that if Toji kills in Jujutsu Society, she would die or be completely exiled and Toji would be immediately executed. Leaving her children all alone with both parents gone and possibly dead. Reader admits she wants to change Jujutsu society and take down the current higher-ups and dismantle the old system. But she doesn’t want to drag Tsumiki and Megumi into the mix, especially since Megumi possesses a technique that has been sought after for centuries.

This weighed on the four of them as Reader continued to talk. It doesn’t help that if they do succeed in killing the higher-ups, not many people would follow behind them, like the big three families. She advises that they need to wait, which she is aware that time won’t change anything. But something needs to happen in order for the change to happen and work in their favor. Suguru understands but doesn’t really agree because keeping them around for longer will just continue what’s happening. Reader points out that if they kill the current higher-ups now, possibly the worst people would take their place. A greater evil replacing a mild evil, pick your poison.

The men don’t go through with the killing but are on legit bad terms with the higher-ups. Toji couldn’t give two fucks about them and the Zen’in clan, but he loves you so he’ll abide to your rules. Similar to Toji, Satoru is the same. He does have the power to do all of this, he knows it would put many people at risk. Suguru was the only one who was conflicted about it, they could do it now so why wait for later? But Suguru is only doing this for his friend and you, not for Jujutsu Society.

Reader is aware of Suguru’s breaking point with what’s been going on. She tries to help but knows Suguru has to make that choice to reach out for help as well. He has been sent on mission after mission, breaking him down even more. One night when you were still on mission leave, there was a knock on the door. Opening it revealed Suguru holding two twin girls in his arms. After dragging him inside, giving the girls Tsumiki’s old clothes, patching him up, and making him tea, you asked what on Earth happened? Anxiety gnawing away as you assumed the worst. Then Suguru explained the situation, his latest mission in a village where he found the mistreated twins by the villagers. He didn’t kill them, to your relief, but he was mad and angry how non-sorcerer people could be more cruel than them. These are the people they were supposed to protect and save but they pull off the most heinous crimes, putting a hit on Riko then torturing these innocent girls. 

You didn’t deny Suguru was right, why protect non-sorcerers when they have the ability to be as cruel as the curse spirits they fight? But it was not about being the better person and letting them get away with it, no. It was about would it be worth it in the end for Suguru to kill off random humans who they’ll never see again? The village was remote as it is. So for torturing the girls, Jujutsu tech and other Jujutsu sorcerers weren’t allowed to do assignments for the village. Leaving the villagers vulnerable to curse attacks and incidents. While it still was a bad decision to leave them to fend for themselves, you couldn’t let Suguru go on a killing spree. 

So Reader helps Suguru take care of the twins along with Satoru and Shoko. The twins had a hard time adjusting but got used to living with Suguru as their guardian/dad. The Twins grow up with Tsumiki and Megumi as they would have play dates and hangout with each other whenever they were at Reader’s home or Reader brings Megumi and Tsumiki to Jujutsu Tech. 

With that, Suguru and Gojo become teachers at Jujutsu High. Shoko became a doctor, Yaga became the principal of the school, Haibara is a full-time sorcerer while Nanami left the Jujutsu World after he graduated but eventually returned a couple years later. You still teach at the school but more of a substitute teacher and only going on retrieval and investigating missions. 

During this time, you tried your best with your children to mend their relationship with Toji. While Megumi took a little longer than Tsumiki, they recognized that their father was staying and not leaving anytime soon. The household was a lot healthier because of that, putting Tsumiki and Megumi in a better mental state. With Megumi having developed his curse technique, Satoru trains him and spends time with him after school to help him better understand his technique. Though you do help your son, it seems like Satoru had teachings that stick with him more. Megumi recognizes Satoru’s presence, though annoyed for the most part, and sees him as an older brother figure but he’ll never admit it. Toji is more involved with his kids' lives as they get older, making up for their earlier years. They have good figures in their lives, making their lives better. While Megumi still has that surface-level brooding antisocial personality, it’s credited to him being an introvert and picking up bits of Toji’s personality.

Though Toji and Megumi’s relationship got better over the years, they have their little banter moments here and there. It was more for annoyance and teasing between the two. You allow it to happen only if it’s meant to be a joke and not a cruel insult disguised as a joke. Sometimes Tsumiki intervenes but you tell her that’s how Megumi and Toji show their love for each other. Especially when Megumi gets older and doesn’t show his vulnerability as much compared to when he was younger. Megumi grew to appreciate his dad more and Toji values from what his two children have taught him.

With the events of JJK 0, since Geto is alive and a non-curse user, let’s just say that the villain who attacked Jujutsu High was Kenjaku but in a different body of a powerful person. So Reader meets Yuta and the other first years and is shocked to see a Zen’in with no technique. She makes personal note of this while also helping Satoru and Suguru teach them. Reader was also there for the attack that took place on Christmas Eve, which pissed her off because she was supposed to be at home with her family but some powerful bozo wanted to conquer and see the whole world in shambles. Nanami and Haibara were serving on the battlefield. Gojo was literally giving hands to Miguel while Suguru was helping in exorcizing and stockpiling curses. 

Kenjaku gets heavily injured and flees the scene, proclaiming that this wouldn’t be the last time they would see him. So after convincing forcing Miguel to come to your side, Reader and Satoru sent Yuta with him to Africa in hopes of finding more of the curse rope Miguel’s clan makes.

Meanwhile sometime later, Megumi was of age to go to Jujutsu Tech. He had a lot of resistance from you to not go there, let alone be a sorcerer. But Gojo talked with you and convinced you that Megumi would become a better sorcerer if he went. Yet it meant dorming at the school and Reader was reluctant about it. But when Megumi showed interest and talked to you about it, you agreed to it but it meant that Satoru would be responsible for his well-being during school hours. Toji also was on Megumi’s side, saying the boy needs to spread his wings and kick ass. Plus Tsumiki will be home too. He’s becoming a young man and you hate to admit it but your husband has a point.

Also in this AU, Tsumiki doesn’t get cursed and goes into a coma. Long story short, you had a gut feeling that something bad was gonna happen. But it wasn't like the air shifted or felt different. Nah, you had this impending doom and you felt so sick that Toji was concerned for you. When Tsumiki left for the bridge, Toji secretly followed after her and saved her just in time. However, one of her friends ended up getting cursed instead. Tsumiki feels guilty but Toji explained about your concern for her safety which is why he went.

Everything still happens as per usual. Megumi meets Yuji, Yuji eats Sukuna’s fingers, Yuuji becomes Sukuna’s vessel, Megumi, Nobara, and Yuuji become a team, etc.

Megumi never really mentions Reader/You, his dad, or sister to Yuji and Nobara because they never asked him. But also, he still is a well-reserved person and doesn’t let information like that slip, especially what he knows about Reader’s status in the Jujutsu Society.

Yuji and Nobara don’t meet Reader/you until after the Kyoto exchange event because Reader/You were in Hokkaido for a bit. But let’s say Reader/You were not pleased with the treatment of Yuji and the Jujutsu Tech students from Kyoto. Todo gets a pass but he’s the only one, Miwa does but she’s a different story.

Reader brings up Maki to Toji and Toji seems interested to see another person that’s very similar to him. Reader brings Toji to school and this is one of the times he is actually well-behaved and watches from afar as he sees the second-years train. He observes Maki quietly as you await his response. Toji just stands up, saying there’s another foil to the Zen’in clan’s plans before leaving the school grounds with you.

Toji does go on missions for Jujutsu Tech but he’s not considered a sorcerer. He’s very similar to Mei Mei in terms of only doing a job if it bleeds money. Due to his Celestial Restriction, he is sent on more dangerous missions. But he doesn’t mind because the paycheck he gets is a fat one that could provide for a year for your household.

Now with the Shibuya Arc, it will be completely different with Toji being alive and an ally. Though tragedy and destruction will occur in Shibuya and afterwards, Toji’s being alive does change the tides against Kenjaku and his evil plan. This is also where Reader starts doing her own thing and pulls some strings that’ll help the main cast. Even if it’s not on legal terms.

[zhongrin]

𒆙 zhongli

part 7/8 of ⎡∞ / 𝟔 𝟎 𝟎 𝟎 ⁺⎦, a zhongli 2023 birthday event

© zhongrin | 2023  ✼  no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡

𖧷 tags ┈ fem!reader (you get called nǎinai), afab!reader (implied past pregnancy), you’re both grandparents with grandchildren, super domestic, teeth-rotting fluff, ocs: liwen & liwei

𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓊 ❬ masterlist ❭ 𐫱 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 ❬ taglist ❭

𝒾t would not be an over-exaggeration to say that there was no greater happiness at this moment than the way the innocent bright smiles of your grandchildren filled you up with warmth, even more so given the harbor’s chilly cold breezes of the night.

“yéye, nǎinai, bye bye!” the youthful cheers were just as energetic as ever despite the lateness of the night. the tiny mostly-humans waved at the both of you, some jumping and bouncing like overexcited hatchlings, others in a calmer manner reminiscent of your husband’s temperament.

“don’t run!” you reminded them as you waved back, a fond smile stretching your lips as you watched them walk further and further into the distance. the same expression made itself home on your beloved’s face, even as your not-so-small family turned around the corner, vanishing from view. a poignant silence blanketed the two of you, the solemn tune of tranquility momentarily accompanied by the squawks of the gulls passing overhead.

a gloved hand settled on the small of your back, and you inhaled deeply in pensiveness before following the guiding push. zhongli led you towards the calm docks, making sure to choose the flattest paths so your bad knees would have the least strain. as if that wasn’t considerate enough, you knew he was also attentively judging your condition from the way you gripped his arm to help you walk.

he was ever so silent and yet, you knew his head was full of many things. he seemed to be getting especially contemplative with each of the years that passed lately.

“….. liwen is turning out to be a wise mother,” he remarked after a few minutes of silence, “perhaps she had unconsciously learned the art of parenting from dealing with all of liwei’s sudden bursts of high energy ever since they were young, do you think?”

“perhaps… but i think she learned it from you,” you chuckled, “just like how she’d perfectly replicated your special slow-cooked bamboo shoots soup.”

“to be more specific, your slow-cooked bamboo shoots soup.”

“oh, i forgot about that,” you snickered, “’soup so good even rex lapis is hopelessly infatuated with it!’…. that past self of mine sure has great foresight, hm?”

“that you did, my dear,” zhongli chuckled, eyes twinkling just like that day, but this time with his convivial smile in full view. he had long since felt comfortable enough to bare himself in front of you, knowing that you would never turned up your nose against him across all of your lifetimes.

your conversation temporarily halted so you could focus on climbing up the small steps of stairs with zhongli’s help. a series of huffs and puffs later, you sighed deeply, one hand pressed onto your cheek as your husband paused in your walk just so you could take a little breather, “dear me…. i think for your next birthday i’ll have to spend it in a wheelchair.”

“then i shall be sure to speak to master zhang to get the commission started,” zhongli smiled, “may i propose a mechanism so it can only be pushed by someone who wields geo elemental energy?“

there he goes, flirting with you again.

“and whatever will i do when i need someone to help me push the wheelchair while you’re not around, hmm?“

“are you implying i will just abandon you at the side of the road? after all these years? you wound me, darling.”

“you’re so dramatic, i swear to rex lapis.”

eyes rolling, you shared a chuckle before continuing on your way back to your modest shared abode.

as you walked, golden shadows of the past clouded your eyes, the ghosts of the past playing moments remembered before the deserted streets, unconsciously creating an upward curl on the corners of your lips.

you saw the first time you walked back home, with the newborn twins tucked safely within yours and zhongli’s arms: with you panicking internally, because dear gods you were not ready for two babies, while zhongli merely gave you a comforting smile and tried to calm your nerves with his soothing reassurances. you saw the two of you chasing the two toddlers, nearly knocking over the pots of marigolds on your front porch: zhongli panicking because liwei’s shapeshifting had gone out of control and he was practically zooming about everywhere in his dragon form, while you couldn’t help but laugh at your husband’s attempts to lead him back home without attracting too many eyes. you saw the two of you seeing off the twins, the first day they insisted on going to school by themselves, because ‘all the big kids do it and we’re big kids!’: the both of you the most anxious you had ever been in your lives, despite knowing big brother xiao would be faithfully watching the little ones and would never allow any harm to befall them.

so many memories, so many years, so many birthdays... passed in the blink of an eye.

“hey, li…,“ you hummed and squeezed his arm with your wrinkled fingers, “…….. happy birthday. even if i won’t be here to say it next year, make sure to spend it with our family, okay?”

“yes, darling.”

“don’t get too lonely, okay? i’ll be back in your arms again before you know it.”

“…. i know, my dear.”

in actuality, he would gladly spend hundreds of birthdays without you, just to spend one birthday with you. but had he told you this, he had a feeling it would add a sad frown onto your lovely face, so he refrained. so instead, he planted a kiss onto your forehead, lined and creased with age and wisdom, with a fond whisper that carried the weight of his devotion.

“i know you always will.”

𖧷 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 ❬ taglist ❭ ┈ @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sunnshineflxwer | @yuutasbabe | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @marina-and-the-memes | @mixed-kester | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @sassy-cat-in-town | @syrenkitsune | @smokipoki | @cakeboxie | @crystalflygeo | @ciexuvia | @illaasya | @celestewritestoomuch | @pams-comfortzone | @spidermanluvr444 | @ourstrawberryclouds | @ryuryuryuyurboat

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Who does the kids go to first when they cry or get angry or just in general? Bayverse tmnt pls pls pls lol I love your content btw ❤️

Who Does Your Kids Go To When They’re Emotional?

Bayverse!Turtles x reader

A/N: Aw, thank you so much!💚 It’s a good question and I’ll happily answer. And along with that request comes a full list of my Bayverse OCs! Hope you enjoy!💚

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Warnings: Spelling, crying children, angry children, anxious children, general sibling stuff.

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Leonardo:

Romeo: Much like his own father, Romeo wishes to make his father proud. That had been obvious since he was small, following his father around like a duckling following their mother. And with this need to make his father proud, Romeo often found comfort in his father. He got hurt during training? Leo was there to make everything better. Romeo and Marcello had a fight? Romeo would go straight to Leo, even if he was meditating.

When Romeo was small, he would cuddle up in Leo’s arms. Once Leo had comforted him, Leo would resume his meditation, letting Romeo stay in his arms as he did so. When Romeo got older, it would turn into Romeo just sitting down next to Leo in order to start his own meditation. There had even been times where a mildly fuming Romeo would return from an argument with his younger brother, asking his father if they could meditate together.

Marcello: Leo’s relationship with his second youngest wasn’t necessarily strained, but it hadn’t always been easy. Marcello had found it hard to keep up with his father and older brother since he was small, which often resulted in small arguments or fights, stemming from frustration and irritation, both at himself and the other men of his family. Therefore the most obvious place to go when he was angry or sad was you.

The amount of time you had been minding your own business when a pair of small arms and hands wrapped themselves around you. Marcello rarely spoke when he was sad. When he was little he would just hide his face against you, but once he hit his teenage years, he would just sit down beside you with his arms crossed, waiting for you to ask him what was wrong.

And well, if you weren’t around, he would go look for uncle Raphael. He understood the little guy’s emotions and would happily spend time with him.

Gerardo: The peaceful one, as you and Leo sometimes would call him when you were alone. Gerardo rarely became sad or angry, always sporting a bright smile with bright blue eyes. But when the crime that was making this little angel sad did occur, it did not matter who was around, Gerardo would make a beeline for his parents with a loud cry.

Other than when he was born, Gerardo rarely cried. But when he did, it was loud and ear piercing. Either you and Leo would drop everything in your hands, running for your crying child. Once Leo came jumping out of the dojo at the sound of Gerardo’s cry, katanas ready in his hands, as the sound alone made him think the lair had been invaded. In reality, the toddler had been pushed by Marcello who did not wish to share his Nintendo.

Valentina: Sometimes you and Leo actually wondered; did Valentina ever cry? Well, other than she was a baby and crying was the only way she knew of, to tell when something was wrong, you couldn’t actually remember a time where you had seen Valentina cry or be angry. But with three much older big brothers, all wrapped tightly around her finger, Valentina never had a reason to cry. They pretty much got her everything she asked for. She wanted to play with that priced Nintendo, that had gotten Gerardo pushed when he was a toddler? She could get to play with it, just this one time. Surprise, it was never just one time. She wanted to have a go with the odachi sword Leo had gotten Romeo? Romeo wasn’t too happy about it, but he could never say no to his little sister. Heck, Gerardo would trip his own parents if Valentina asked him to. But luckily she didn’t… at least not yet.

Raphael:

Joan: This girl has and will always be a daddy’s girl, even if her temper and strength shocked Raph at times. She was a hard puncher that rarely cried, but booooy, could she get angry. And when she was angry, the only person that seemed to be able to calm her down.

When Joan was angry, the whole lair knew it, and it had scared her little brother at least twice. Each time Raph had wondered if giving her sharpe weapons as a gift had been such a good idea.

There was really no telling of what had gotten Joan so angry. But nonetheless, Raph had decided to go check on her in the weight room, where she was punching the punching bag so hard that Raph had to blink. Whoever had gotten his eldest daughter so angry was lucky to be alive.

However Raph understood. He knew of the need to punch your feelings out every once in a while, so he did not stop her. Instead he sat down and watched her, waiting for the moment she was ready to talk about it. That moment finally came after some time, where Joan finally stopped punching the hanging sack, before running to her father, throwing her arms around his torso and crying against him. Raph did not ask her to speak, but instead held her tight as she got all of her emotions out.

Minerva: You and Raph’s second oldest daughter was no less emotional than her big sister. She did regularly get sad, and when she did, she was glued to Raph’s side, hugging him tightly as if she was scared he would disappear if she let go.

Mini was a genuinely more anxious child. She often had nightmares and would often come to you and Raph during the night, finding herself feeling more safe in Raph’s arms. It wasn’t a big problem since Raph loved hugging his daughter, but it did become a problem when Raph had to leave for patrol, but Mini cried and screamed whenever he was going out the door. It did not matter if you were the one holding her when Raph left, as she would fight against your grip, screaming for father to come back. That was probably the worst you had ever tried as a mother, watching your 3 year old daughter scream and cry for hours, just wanting her dad to come home. It was stressful, both for you and Raph.

Then something amazing happened. Once when Mini sat in Raph’s lap on the couch, Raph started to knit. Mini’s eyes was filled with interest as she watched him work, and very soon, she wanted to learn it too. And then, when Raph had to leave for patrol, she did not cry. Instead she told him to come home early, so she could show him how far she had gotten with her knitting. And that was the start of how Mini would soothe herself with knitting.

Ragnar: You and Raph’s only son, named after the ruthless viking king and leader (yes, Raph’s idea), was actually quite a softy. Sure, he was sassy and sarcastic, a trait he and his siblings had taken straight from their father, but if there was one thing he hated, it was fighting. Ragnar was a very sweet and caring boy, but he hated sudden noises or when things changed too fast. And his reaction to this? Well, that was crying. And lord did this boy cry a lot as a child. He couldn’t find his favorite toy? He would cry. One of his sisters ate the last piece of cake? He would cry. One of his cousins didn’t want to play with him? He would cry. And each and every time he would run to you and hide against you while he cried his eyes out.

Then, in his teenage years, it was as if a switch was flicked in his brain, and Ragnar no longer cried as much as he used to do. He still wasn’t a big fan of fighting, but his curiosity for the world has expanded. Neither you or Raph would forget the day a 14 year old Ragnar asked if he could come along on patrol, because he wanted to see the city. Raph had obviously said no, knowing that there was no telling what could happen during a patrol. But instead of crying, Ragnar just sat down next to you with a very sour expression, mumbling about how he would find a way to sneak out with his cousins.

Donatello:

Galileo: Gali was one of those children that did not know how to fully express his emotions. Especially not after he became a big brother to twins. For five years Gali had been used to having you and Donnie’s attention to the fullest, so when there suddenly was not just one more kid to look after, but two, Gali started to feel a bit ignored. He started to crave attention, both by you and Donatello. If one of you were holding one of the twins, he wanted attention. But when you couldn’t give him that, due to the babies in your arms, he did the only thing he could think of - cry and scream. And that worked. It worked too well. To the point where Gali would just scream to get attention from at least one of you.

But as closer to his teen years Gali got, the more he wanted to be alone. A 10 year old Gali often found that his 5 year old sisters gave him headaches, rarely leaving him alone. They would come into his room in order to watch whatever video games he was playing, begging him to get a turn on his newest game, and not leaving when he told them to. There was this one time where a sad and frustrated Gali turned off his computer and left his room, followed by his two little sisters. He then found you and Donnie sitting in the kitchen with his uncles and grandfather. He didn’t say a word but flung his arms around Donnie, crying into his shoulder. After that day, you and Donnie taught your daughters to listen when their brother wanted to be left alone.

Dorothy: Every family has their troublemaker, and in the case of you and Donnie’s little family, it was Dorothy. That did not make your daughter any less loving and caring, but sometimes she needed a little more mental stimulation, often in the form of very clever pranks, often targeted at her siblings, and sometimes her unsuspecting cousins. But as much as Dorothy loved pranks and pranking others, she hated when others decided to prank her.

Neither you or Donnie saw it happen, but apparently it had been one of those very simple pranks you saw all the times in cartoons. So simple that Dorothy could only feel embarrassed. That was why Gali and Marie had made it so simple. A bucket filled with water on the top of her doorway, just waiting to fall when she opened the door. And that was exactly what happened.

You and Donnie were alerted by a shriek, followed by the sounds of Marie and Gali’s hysterical laughter, before a soaked Dorothy came running to you, jumping onto the two of you on the couch, pointing and screaming about what her siblings had done to her. You and Donnie had looked at each other, wondering if life as parents ever would become peaceful, before Donnie left to have a talk with your other two kids.

Marie: The tomboy of them all, Marie rarely cried. Whenever she fell from her wild acts, she just brushed off her knee and kept running, smiling brightly without a care in the world. Unless her brother felt the sudden urge to tease her until she left his room, or when her sister decided to pull another prank on her. In those cases, Marie did not cry, but she did become incredibly frustrated and angry, going to you and your husband with smoke blowing out of her ears, telling the two of you what the others had done to her.

But just because Marie didn’t cry, it did not mean that she wasn’t full of deep emotions, because she was. Evenever something was plaguing the poor girl's head, she would go to either you or Donatello, depending on what her problem was. She had always been well articulated and thought before she spoke, always resulting in her sentences being very precise and very well described.

There was one time Marie came crying to you, and that was after she had gotten lost in the sewers. The little adventurer had managed to get too far away from the lair, and found herself walking down pipes she had never seen before. Donnie, who did not like how long she had been gone, ventured out to find her, finding her crying in the corner of a far away drain. She clung to him as he picked her up and carried her home, before she ran to you as soon as she got to the lair.

Michelangelo:

Sunny: Sunny - or Sunshine as Mikey liked to call her - was a bright and happy girl that hated to cry or feel the emotion of anger. As a child she was a loud giggler with a vivid fantasy, and a surprisingly deep understanding of how emotions worked, both her own and others. There had been times that she noticed her cousins hiding some sort of sadness, to which she would sit down with them and engage them in talk about their emotions, just like her father would have done with his own brothers, and good lord, how proud Mikey was the first time he saw Sunny have talk with one of her emotional cousins.

Other than the time Sunny straight up told her father that she felt like he didn’t want to play with her after her little brother was born, there had rarely been times where Sunny had felt outside, or in the need to have a stern talk with her parents. But as a growing child, there had been times where she fell or tumbled, and cried out from the sheer shock. Obviously, you and Mikey rushed to her rescue each time, picking her up in order to hold her close. But Sunny, the absolute daddy’s girl as she was, would usually point to Mikey when she was in your arms, or straight up ask you to bring her to her father. And of course you brought her to him. You too would go to Mikey whenever you were sad, so why wouldn’t your daughter do the same. And hell, it looked adorable to watch him walk around with your daughter on his hip.

Luis: While Sunny is a daddy’s girl, Luis is a total mama’s boy. Just as happy and smiling as his big sister, Luis could never sit still. He often ran and jumped with the same energy that his father had shown throughout the years.

But with your son being so hyperactive, he obviously got himself hurt quite often. And each and every time, your beautiful son with big emotions cried out for you. Or crying out for Mikey, telling him to go find you.

But as sweet and happy Luis was, he was also quite dramatic. He was the type of kid to stop crying as soon as he saw you, just sniffling with big eyes and lifting his arms, expecting you to pick him up. And when you then sat down with him, he wouldn't move from you all day, sticking to your side and telling you how it still hurt whenever you tried to get up from the bed or couch.

When Luis was in his “I’m hurt and I can therefore only stick to mommy” mood as a small kid, he wasn’t too happy about letting anyone get too close to you, not even Sunny or Mikey. There had been times when Mikey had leaned down to kiss you goodbye as you sat on the couch with Luis, before he was about to head out with his brothers. But as Mikey leaned down to place a peck on your lips, little Luis let out a loud “no!”, before putting a little hand up between you and him. As serious as Luis’ expression was, you and Mikey couldn’t help but laugh at his little cute face.

[thursdayisfriday]

ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ!⋆˚♡˖° (1)

⤑ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Doctor!Yandere!OC x Nurse! GN! Reader

⤑ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: None really? (( This character is an Oc of mine, please don’t steal! :/ ))

⤑ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Doctor Sho checks on your ankle to make sure it’s not broken, but he can’t let you leave before giving you a proper checkup~

(This is a connection to my last yandere story, so please go check it out first!)

https://www.tumblr.com/thursdayisfriday/724479546712309760/%EA%9C%B1%E1%B4%9B%E1%B4%80%CA%8F-%E1%B4%A1%C9%AA%E1%B4%9B%CA%9C-%E1%B4%8D%E1%B4%87%EA%9C%B0%E1%B4%8F%CA%80%E1%B4%87%E1%B4%A0%E1%B4%87%CA%80?source=share

(Idk How to change it ≡(▔﹏▔)≡)

“Is it broken?”

You sighed and you looked down at the purple haired man as he examined your ankle. Sho held your foot in his hands, caressing it softly. A red mark was left on the side of your ankle along with a bruise hand mark. With every rub you bit your lip trying to stop yourself from whining. Finally Sho made a small hum sound as he rested your foot down. “It’s not broken, more like bruised” He said reassuringly. His eyes met yours with a small grin. He turned to a cabinet and grabbed a roll of bandages and kneeled down before you again. “You’ll have to keep off your foot though”. Sho wrapped the bandages around your ankle quickly, not wanting to hurt you. “I’ll give you some crutches and prescribe you some medicine to help with the pain”. His eye’s flickered to yours and you swear, his brown eyes just looked dark. Like he was angry. But for all we know it could just be a figment of your imagination.

“Thanks…and sorry for bothering you so late at night” You said embarrassed, your eyes traveled to your fingers wanting to look at anything but him. But Sho only smiled. “Please, I’m glad to help you anytime”. Once he was finished, you wiggled your foot a little, feeling slight pains but not too much. “Thanks again-” You were about to slide off the bed but a pair of hands hit the bed next to you suddenly making you jump. Sho’s Arms trapped you between the hospital bed and him and his chest stayed solid, blocking you from passing. His warm minty breath hit you head softly as he looked down at you like you were his. Again, darked eyes stared at you and his mouth still curled into a smile, only this one looked more sinister than the last. “Sho-” “I'm not finished” His now husky voice cut your sentence off sharply. “Get on the bed,” Sho commanded.

Your breath was somewhat shaky but you nodded as you struggled to pull yourself back onto the bed. Sho noticed this and held your waist firmly and picked you up with ease and rested you on the bed. As if a switch went off in his mind, Sho smiled softly again. “I have to give you a quick check up first before you go, silly” Sho stated before grabbing his stethoscope. You let out a shaky laugh and smiled nervously, nodding in understandment. “Lift up your shirt for me a little”. Following his instructions, You raised up your shirt, gasping a little as he pressed the cold circular part of the stethoscope to your chest. “Take a deep breath in, then out”. Closing your eyes, you followed his instructions. His hand rested on your waist as he moved up to your collar bone then lower to your stomach.

“Hm” He hummed again and stood up. You felt his eye burn into your body as he moved to your back. His body leaned against the bed and his hand rested on your hips this time, as he slowly lifted you your shirt to reveal your back and bite his lip. You felt the cold part of the stethoscope touch your upper back making you jump again. Sho only chuckled at your antics and lowered himself closer to your ear. “Too cold?”. You nodded your head hesitantly, but didn’t dare utter a word. His hand massaged your side as he kept moving the stethoscope. “The patient who twisted your leg, do you know their name by any chance”. A hint of anger was held in his voice but was drowned out by his smile. “Um…patient 106 I believe” You said rather quickly, staying still as he examined you. “Why?” You dared to ask.

Sho paused his motions but quickly resumed. “Nothing..just- you know, people like that are dangerous to be around”. His eyes traveled to your neck. “They just become so obsessed with something they’d do anything to keep their obsession with them….” He sled the stethoscope lower, listening to your heart quicken. “Even if it means hurting that thing-”

“Doctor (Y/N)?” You two both looked up abruptly as The door swung open revealing a guard. The guard looked to the side respectfully, seeing that some of the buttons on your shirt were undone. “U-uh..Doctor Chris is looking for you”. You sighed in relief, an excuse to get out of this room! “I'm coming..” You said quickly and sled off the bed to leave, but not before turning to Sho. “Thank you again…Please just send the medication to my room” You limped rather quickly and wasted no time before the door closed behind you with a slam.

.

.

.

.

. Sho was breathing heavily as he bit his hand, drawing some blood. ‘Their body Is so much better up close~ I almost couldn’t stop myself from biting them right there and then!~

I hope you enjoyed (⁠人⁠⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠ﾟ⁠+

[niku30]

Here’s a small comic based on a scene Emma and I talked about two days ago, featuring Shang Tsung and Wo Shen ( @emmacreatures ‘s MK fan OC ) in a domestic setting.

If there’s one thing I’ll always love it’s showing characters that are known to be endlessly evil in vulnerable and personal situations that they so not usually share with anyone - it adds so much depth and makes them so much more human.

We HC that Shang Tsung enjoys pampering himself for hours on end - and that he cares a lot about his appearance in general. He does it because he simply enjoys it, but deep down the desperate hope of genuinely being admired and loved by someone might also be involved. However that is a side Shang Tsung does not easily reveal to just anyone…

[naughtyneganjdm]

The Perfect Costume

Summary: Negan goes to a Halloween store with his family in search of costumes to wear.

Characters: Negan & the reader (OC, second person)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50991043

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, a little smut (not very detailed), dirty minded Negan, etc

Notes: This is meant to be a sweet little fic with Negan being naughty in the way he talks and the smut is very miniscule and not very detailed. Just a short little Halloween fic. Enjoy!

“Any idea what kind of costume you have in mind kiddo?” Negan questioned following around your five-year-old daughter while she ran down the aisles of the Halloween store you were in. Negan had your eight-month-old son Noah strapped to his chest in a baby carrier while he held onto your hand. “Emma? Baby girl. Are we looking for something that is cute? Scary? Some kind of animal? We’re running on nothing here baby.”

“I don’t know daddy,” Emma exclaimed, stopping in her tracks to look back at Negan with a frown. Tossing her hands up, her dimples sank in looking around the aisle. “There is so much here! When I see it, I just know I’ll know that’s it!”

“Remember we’re looking for all of our costumes baby girl,” you reminded your daughter knowing that she had begged both you and Negan to pick everyone’s costume this year. “So you have four costumes to pick out.”

“I know, I know,” Emma blew off the responsibility of it all causing Negan to snort since she was so lost inside of the store that she really didn’t have a care in the world what either one of you were saying. “Finding a good Halloween costume is…really…really important. It can determine how much candy I get this year. Y’know?”

“Solid point baby girl,” Negan snorted, his fingers tightening around yours while you continued to follow your daughter around the Halloween store. It was like she was lost in a toy store and she was amazed with everything often stopping when she saw something that she thought was cool.

“Daddy!” she seemed in awe of something while she stepped before it. It was a monster mask that when you pushed a button, it looked like it oozed blood. An amused bout of laughter fell from her throat when she threw her head back to look at Negan. “It’s so ugly! I love it!”

It made both of you laugh, but her awe didn’t last long before she was running off to go look at something else that caught her eyes, “The interest lasted ten seconds before she’s off.”

“She is my daughter. She can’t focus on just one thing,” Negan snickered at the thought trying to keep up with Emma while she looked over everything. “I will take credit for all this pent-up energy. I have a hard time focusing too.”

“You? No,” you teased Negan, hitting him on his shoulder playfully. “You aren’t like that at all.”

“I notice the sarcasm in your tone,” Negan chuckled, his head lowering down with his lips hovering in over yours. Bringing your lips together in a lingering kiss, you heard the disgusted breath falling from your daughter. Pulling away slightly, you saw her staring up at the two of you with her hands on her hips. It made Negan let out a big belly laugh, his nose nuzzling in against the side of your neck with the anger that she was sharing for the two of you kissing. “I feel like a young boy getting scolded by my parents.”

“What did I tell the two of you about kissing?” Emma folded her arms out in front of her chest in attempts to lecture you. “Dial it back on the kissing. It’s gross.”

“It’s my way of telling your mother that I love her kiddo,” Negan pressed a faint kiss over the side of your cheek before kneeling down, hooking his arm around Noah who let out a small squeal when they were eye level with Emma. “Kisses aren’t a bad thing.”

“The last time the two of you got super kissy, I ended up with a little brother,” Emma blurt out causing Negan to choke and then laugh. Looking up at you with his big hazel eyes, Negan couldn’t help but smile and nod his head. “And while I love Noah, we don’t need another baby in the family. Not now at least. He cries a lot during the middle of the night.”

“That’s because he’s a baby sweetheart,” you reminded your daughter, stepping forward to place your hand in over your daughter’s shoulder in a tender squeeze. “Babies do that.”

“Imagine two babies doing that,” Emma circled her finger around Noah and his big eyes followed the movements of his sister’s finger from where he was strapped to Negan’s chest. “Noah is cute. And I like how he smiles, but the crying? No thank you!”

“You know, you used to cry too sweet pea,” Negan reached out to pull Emma in closer to him, careful enough to keep Noah safe while he peppered kisses over your daughter’s face. At first, she tried to hold it in, but the more Negan kissed at her face she couldn’t help but giggle. Her small hands placed in over the sides of Negan’s face and he laughed along with her.

“Your beard is itchy,” she tipped up on her toes to press a kiss over the side of Negan’s cheek. “I love you daddy, it’s just embarrassing how much you and mommy kiss. At home, okay. But in public, you need to cool it.”

“Got it,” Negan’s nose wrinkled and he gazed up at you again from where you were standing beside them. “We’ll work on it.”

“No you won’t,” Emma sighed gazing between both of you. Throwing her hands up in the air, she dramatically shook her head and shrugged. “I’m just gonna have to get used to babies. So many babies.”

“Emma,” you laughed watching your daughter turn on her heel after she gave Noah a quick kiss on his head.

“I’m okay with lots of babies,” Negan pointed out, letting out a grunt when he got up from his knees. Glancing back at him, you heard Negan laugh and shrug his shoulders. “I like being a dad. And I like what we have to do in order to make babies.”

“What does that mean?” Emma stopped in her tracks making your face flush over with a warmth when you reached for Emma’s hand.

“Nothing,” you immediately answered for Negan hearing his amused chuckle from behind you. “Now let’s find us some good costumes here.”

“Yeah. Maybe we should talk about what we are going to want for daddy’s costume. Maybe a vampire. I’ve got the looks and the charm for a vampire,” Negan suggested trying to keep up with the two of you while you looked through the aisles again. “Or maybe I can be like a zombie baseball player. Or like a wizard or something.”

“A wizard?” Emma stopped walking to look back at Negan. “What’s cool about a wizard?”

“I don’t know, they do magic and what not,” Negan looked to some of the costumes that were hanging.

“You’re not magical,” Emma heard Negan snort and he turned to look back at his daughter. “You’ve never been interested in magic tricks.”

“That’s not true,” Negan held his finger up in the air, his dimples sinking in when he let out a long exhale. “You should see the magic trick I can do when it comes to your mother’s pants.”

“Knock it off,” you groaned out, rolling your eyes noticing the mischievous sound that followed.

“What does he mean?” Emma looked up at you with big eyes and you shook your head. “Mom?”

“He’s just being silly,” you responded to your daughter who turned away and you let out a yelp when Negan moved in behind you to pinch your bottom. Emma stopped, giving you a strange expression with the sound you made. “Sorry honey.”

“I think it’s pretty magical how fast I can get your pants off,” Negan whispered in your ear and you rolled your eyes, pushing your hand into Negan’s shoulder to put some distance between the two of you. “I could be a killer clown. I think I’m pretty funny.”

“No,” Emma slurred out her words causing Negan to huff out loud. Emma was denying all the suggestions that Negan was throwing out for his personal costume and you found it amusing how she was ignoring her father’s ideas.

“How about this one for you mama?” Negan called out pulling a costume out that was very skimpy with devil horns on it. “Or, if you don’t like that one…”

Negan pulled out something similar and held it up to show that it was an angel costume, “This one is just as nice and we can use it after the kids go to sleep.”

“That looks cold,” Emma noted after you gave your husband a glare. “It’s going to be cold at night daddy. She doesn’t want something like that.”

“I was just thinking for after we go trick or treating,” Negan gazed between the two before setting the angel costume down and grabbing the devil one. “I think I’ll get this. Just in case.”

“You’re weird,” Emma commented, squeezing her fingers tighter around yours and it made you snicker. “Why would you want to wear a costume when you’re not trick or treating?”

“He’s just being goofy like daddy often is,” you gave Negan a glance and he tipped his head to the side. “Has anything caught your eye yet honey?”

“So many things! That’s the problem,” Emma exclaimed gazing around at everything in frustration. “I love it all.”

“Well you are going to have multiple Halloweens after this honey,” you suggested hearing Noah coo out and you looked back to see that he was curling his fingers around Negan’s index finger holding tightly to it. “I think your little brother is hungry.”

“He will eat soon, we just have to figure this out,” Emma insisted tugging firmly on your hand to pull you toward a section of the store where she had seemed to have the most interest.

“I found two things that I think you should get for me,” Negan’s voice drew your attention when he returned with trophies in his hands. Holding them out to you, you accepted one to see that it said biggest cock on the block and then reached for the other to see that it said pussy eating champion on it. You choked back on your laughter trying not to draw attention to the items that he had grabbed. You were thankful your kids were too small to understand these things at this point. “They fit, right?”

“Did you go out in search of the naughty section of the store?” you shook your head in disbelief hearing his amused laughter follow. “You need to chill.”

“I don’t understand, why would you want to eat cats?” Emma’s voice beckoned the both of you and you saw that she was standing up on her toes to read the trophies that Negan had grabbed. “Daddy, you’re allergic to cats. Your eyes would puff up and that’s just gross. Who eats cats?”

The immediate laughter that followed from Negan when you noticed two other parents staring out at you in disbelief made your face hot with embarrassment but you couldn’t help but laugh too at the situation. Both from your daughter’s innocence and the situations Negan always put you in.

“You’re a dick,” you breathed out under your breath knowing that by the wickedness of Negan’s laughter that he was proud of himself.

“Why is no one answering me?” Emma seemed frustrated, but Negan walked off to go return the trophies. “Why would he want to eat cats?”

“He doesn’t want to eat cats baby,” you assured your daughter with a sigh noticing that Negan was in quite a spunky mood today. “Let’s find those costumes.”

“You both are weird today,” Emma noted and you didn’t disagree with her there. When Emma found something, you saw her eyes light up at the sight of it. “Mommy! I’ve got it! This can be daddy’s costume!”

When Negan returned, he was singing one of the Halloween songs to Noah that was clearly on his mind.

“Your daughter found you something,” you pointed to the outfit that Emma had found for Negan and he looked up letting out a long, lingering groan. “This is yours.”

“Oh come on,” Negan grumbled seeing Emma look back at him at excitement.

“Isn’t it great daddy?” Emma held the costume out and Negan looked to you, his dimples sucking in when he breathed loudly.

“Yeah, honey, it’s just great,” Negan sighed, feigning a smile knowing that he would do anything for his daughter. “I can’t wait to try it on.”

---

“Daddy this is so freaking cool!” Emma boasted running down the driveway from the home she had just trick or treated at with you. The ears from her Tigger costume bounced when she went to give Negan a hug, slamming into him with excitement. “I told you the right costume would get me all the best candy. That woman gave me full sized candy bars,” she pulled back to reveal the candy that was in her bag. “You should go up with me next time so maybe we can get more.”

“I’m super happy for you kiddo,” Negan reached down to pick up Emma while you carried Noah. “You know, I get why you made your little brother Piglet, but is there a reason you let your mama be a pretty witch and I had to be Winnie the Pooh?”

Involuntarily a laugh fell from your throat when you looked to Negan and the costume he was wearing. It was an oversized the Winnie the Pooh costume and you could see his face flushing over with red when a few kids from the school he worked at walked by.

“You always call mommy honey, so I just thought it fit daddy!” Emma exclaimed, clinging tightly to Negan while he made it to the next house. “You tell me I’m bouncing off the walls all the time. So I make the best Tigger. Noah is always hungry and he’s small. So Piglet makes sense y’know?”

“And mama gets to be a pretty witch? Why wasn’t she Eeyore instead?” Negan wondered looking to you knowing that you found amusement in all of this.

“Because mommy isn’t sad like that. She’s pretty and I think witches are cool!” Emma explained with a tiny laugh when she wiggled out of Negan’s arms to reach for his hand to eagerly lead him up toward the door and you followed not far behind with Noah. Once you finished up at that house, when you got to the bottom of the driveway Emma hugged Negan again causing another groan to fall from his throat. “Come on guys.”

“You know, I love her hugs,” Negan began as you followed Emma on the sidewalk as she continued to skip to the next house, “but I can’t wait until she gets a little bit taller. Every single time she runs and hugs me, she headbutts me right in the nuts.”

“Negan,” you couldn’t help but laughed watching him reach down with his big Winnie the Pooh paw to try to adjust himself in a way that wouldn’t draw attention to it, but it looked pretty ridiculous.

“I’m not kidding. I’ve been headbutted in the nuts about fifty times today alone,” Negan informed you with a tiny rumble of a laugh. “And that shit hurts. Even being in a padded chubby bear costume.”

“Come on daddy!” Emma called out reaching for Negan who eagerly stumbled up the driveway with his daughter. Emma was so excited and Noah was really just enjoying the lights and all the costumes, letting out small laughs from where he was strapped to your chest in his baby carrier.

Negan urged Emma to keep going until the very end of trick or treating and by the time you had gotten home, Negan had grabbed Noah and went to the kitchen table to help sort through the candy that they had gotten. You couldn’t help but be in awe of your husband seeing him sitting at the kitchen table with both your son and daughter sitting on his lap still dressed in his Winnie the Pooh costume. The amount of pictures you took tonight were ridiculous, but you couldn’t help how cute you found everything.

At the end of the night, Negan had fallen asleep on the couch still in his costume with both Emma and Noah on his chest after watching movies together. You had taken your costume off and you were cleaning up things, but you couldn’t help but be in awe of the way your husband was with your children. As silly or ridiculous as he was, Negan always showed up when it came to being a dad. He made things fun for your children and he showed them endless amounts of love.

The sound of movement drew your attention seeing the way that Negan carefully moved off the couch to carry both a sleeping Emma over his shoulder and Noah in his other arm, “You need some help there Pooh?”

“I’ve got this,” Negan assured you and you followed him up the stairs of your home to the second floor. Watching Negan put your children to bed helped you to realize how much you truly loved your husband. He was a great father and there was no question that was the sexiest thing about him. After he peppered Emma with kisses, Negan followed you back out into the hallway and threw his hands up in the air. “I need to get this costume off.”

“Let me help you,” you reached for his hand, laughing when the paw accepted your grasp. Leading him to the bedroom, you closed the door and moved around Negan to undo the zipper at the back of the costume. Negan pushed down the head of the costume and grunted when he tugged his arms out of the material. “You know, I thought you were pretty hot when I first met you. Wearing that leather jacket looking like a bad ass.”

“Yeah?” Negan’s eyebrow arched in curiosity, sitting down on the edge of the bed. His hair was wet from being sweaty while he worked to get the legs of the costume off. When he was done, he tossed the costume aside and was sitting before you in a white t-shirt and black athletic pants that he had worn underneath the costume.

“But nothing tops how sexy I found you tonight,” you informed him, moving forward to curl your finger in underneath his chin to get him to look up at you. There was an amused expression over his features while you caressed over his face. “Dressed in a costume you hated, making our children happy being the sweetest father.”

“Ah,” Negan snickered, turning his head to the side to place a kiss over the center of your palm. “You have a Winnie the Pooh kink, huh?”

“Oh stop,” you rolled your eyes hearing his laughter follow and he tugged you down to fall in over his lap. Hooking his arms around you, Negan started to tease you with the idea of kissing you, but it was just a faint brush of his lips over yours. “I just love you. So much.”

“I love you more,” Negan hummed, finally claiming your lips in a kiss. Your kisses grew in strength and before you knew it, you found yourself at the center of your bed with Negan crawling in over you after he managed to strip off the remainder of his clothes. “It’s been a while since we’ve gotten to be with one another like this. We usually have one of the kids with us at all times.”

“Then we better take advantage,” you suggested, brushing your fingers through his wet hair drawing him to your lips again letting out a soft moan when he entered you. The rolling of his hips was slow over you while he took time to pamper you. “Negan.”

“We should have grabbed that devil costume before we did this,” Negan hummed against the side of your neck making you both laugh. Dropping his forehead against yours, Negan’s winces grew louder with every thrust he made over you. “Fuck.”

“Yes,” you purred in his ear, curling your fingers into the curls at the back of his neck.

“Yeah?” Negan breathed out, his hazel eyes locked on yours when every move he made grew in strength. The sound of crying filled the air over the baby monitor and Negan let out an overwhelmed sound, his head burying against the side of your neck. “No, no. Fucking, shit.”

Amusement flooded your veins when you stroked your fingers through Negan’s wet hair realizing that you weren’t going to be able to finish with Noah crying, “I can get him.”

“No,” Negan groaned out, pulling his hips back and away from you with a wince. Reaching for his athletic pants, he pulled them up and over his hips adjusting himself when they were on. “I’ve got this.”

“Maybe Emma was right. We should stop at two,” you teased watching Negan swiftly crawling back in over the bed to pepper kisses over your lips.

“Nah. I want a fucking baseball team,” Negan slurred against your lips and it made you chuckle against his flesh. “I got this, but when I’m done with the little dude, I’m coming back in here and we’re finishing this up.”

“Sure we are,” you mused knowing that it would probably take a while to get Noah settled again. Negan held his finger out and pointed at you which made you laugh. Even if you didn’t get as much romantic time as you may have wanted with Negan, it was all worth it to you. Because living your life with Negan was better than anything you could have hoped for.

----

Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @de-gabyconamor​ @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams  @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan​ @redmercysugar @caprithebunny​ @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth​ @a-girl-interupted @akumune​ @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx​  @insertneganhere​ @haleygreen23​ @xhannahbananax03​ @sanctuaryforthelost​ @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight  @ayumi-wolf @hollyismentallyillhelp @promiscuousbarnes​ @tone-stark @lanadelnegan

[wineauntie]

the beginning of them— Quinn Hughes x singer!oc

series masterlist

summary: the first of firsts in Juno and Quinn’s relationship!

notes: I love these two so much at the moment <33

warnings: none!

After their first meeting and after the game, Quinn realised that Juno had left her jacket in the locker room.

He practically dodged all media trying to talk to him to try to return the jacket to her.

“Hey!” Quinn hurried down the hallway towards Juno, who was being directed out of the building. He watched as she turned, her red hair, fanning out, revealing the Canucks jacket wrapped around her.

“Oh, hello, Cap,” Juno mused, folding her arms as she watched Quinn grow closer, her jacket thrown over his arms. “I see you found my jacket.”

“Couldn’t let you leave without it,” He grinned, his face breaking despite the darkening bag beneath his eyes.

“Well thank you for returning it,” she smiled softly, taking the jacket from his outstretched hands. Juno looked at him expectedly, taking in his slightly breathless and flushed self. “Say, what else does a girl have to do to get the Captain to give her his number?”

Quinn froze, his mouth slightly agape as his ears tinged red. She watched him with widened and twinkling eyes, her head tilted towards him. He could only stare in shock. How could someone like her ever like him! HIM!

“Oh sugar,” Juno swore upon the lack of answer. Her face scrunched up in a wince “I read this all wrong, I’m so sorry.”

“No!” Quinn blurted out as she turned to leave. Juno faced him again, a slight pink tinge across both cheeks. He pulled out a pen he usually kept in his pocket for signing things for fans. “I want to give it to you…I...I don’t have paper.”

Juno lightly chuckled and handed Quinn her phone. “No need,” she spoke, her voice like the most beautiful song to his ears. “Welcome to the world of new technology, Cap.”

If the world could swallow Quinn alive, he wished it would.

“If you’re the welcome I get every time, I’ll gladly keep visiting,” he mumbled with a smile, as he typed his number in before handing it back to her. Juno’s grin spread if that was even possible.

“Well, maybe I’ll have to keep it up to see your face again…see you around, Quinn.”

Quinn was completely besotted with Juno from that moment.

Juno had called him that evening, and the two spent just over five hours on the phone, talking back and forth as they laughed and shared stories from their lives.

Juno was told about Quinn’s brothers and life in Vancouver, whilst she told him about her life as a singer and all of the crazy things that had happened to her on tour.

From there it escalated to FaceTime and constant late-night chats.

“Someone broke into your tour bus and waited for you on the toilet naked?”

“You’re telling me your brothers pushed you into moving traffic on an electric scooter?!”

Quinn had been the one to ask Juno out, with their first date being in a small park.

They’d met up before, heading to bakeries and shops to make a picnic before making their way to the park.

It was a relatively sunny day, the clouds parting as they set up camp in the grass, sharing stories and eating the food they’d bought.

That was until the heavens opened and rain shattered down around them, forcing them to run for shelter under a tree.

Quinn had used his jacket as a makeshift umbrella for him and Juno, holding it above them as they abandoned most of their picnic for the nearest tree.

The two were forced into the tight space of shelter, both unable to stop laughing as they grew closer and closer.

That had been the moment of their first kiss

Both were drenched from head to toe and mid-laugh until suddenly, they had jolted towards one another, their lips colliding.

Juno’s hands had woven their way into Quinn’s hair, grasping onto him whilst his hands cupped her face.

Juno was the first to pull away, her chest rising and falling breathlessly as she rested her forehead against Quinn’s. The man in front of her smiled softly, his thumb caressing one of her cheeks.

“That was…” she began, as he brushed a wet strand of red hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear with the most gentle of touches. “Woah.”

“You can say that again,” Quinn huffed out a laugh, his face cracking into his teasing smile that you’d grown to adore seeing.

“I think I might need to try that again,” Juno mumbled, her eyes darting from Quinn’s darkening eyes to his swollen lips.

No other words were said as Quinn crashed his lips onto hers once more.

The two of them sort of became inseparable from that moment, and Juno who had been suffering from an age-old case of writer's block, was filled with ideas for a new album.

[chaotic-mystery]

Code Red Chapter Eight | I Could Fly Home, With My Eyes Closed

Pairing: No outbreak AU dbf!Joel Miller x f!OC (told in 2nd POV)

Summary: Everything's going good with Joel and your life, but is it almost too good? What happens when you put Joel on the spot about taking a vacation together?

Content Warnings: SMUT, 18+ only blog MDNI. Enemies to lovers, dads best friend Joel, age gap (readers in her twenties and Joel is in his forties), slow burn, strained father/daughter relationship, daddy issues, swearing, arguing, mentions of anxiety and how that feels, angst, showering with Joel, hand job, dirty talk, morning sex, penetration (p in v), pet names (Joel refers to himself as daddy and you call him that as well), worshipping, fantasizing about eating you out at work, power dynamic, reader smokes. (If I've missed anything please let me know!)

Authors Note: I'm back. After some long thinking I decided it would be best to change Code Red from a reader insert to a female OC told in 2nd POV. There's just too much in here that adds to the story and dynamics for it to continue to be a reader insert while also being a blank slate. I want to reiterate the reader IS NOT physically described in any way other than having hair long enough to push away from the face. There's an underlying personality that I want to add and explore more and I hope you guys love it just as much as I do. Thank you always @pedgito for beta-ing for me, I love you. I love you all and thank you for the constant support on this. || wc: 5.3k || notif blog || ao3 ||

Every night for the past few months you were staying late at work with Joel to help him sort through the blueprints Tommy left out all over the place during the day. Joel’s hands rest on your shoulders as you sit at your desk, typing up some paperwork so you don’t have to worry about it later.He leans down close to your ear and ever so softly glides his lips over the shell of your ear. 

“Can we go now, baby? S’getting late and I need to get some food in my belly.” A soft kiss to your cheek makes you smile, face growing warmer by the second. 

“Just one more and then I’ll be done, I swear it.” You chuckle and squirm away, trying to type as fast as you can. His lips motivate you to keep going and soon enough his hands follow, dragging up your sides and stopping right over your wrists. 

“No, no more. It’ll be here for tomorrow.” Your chair spins around and you become face to face with Joel. 

“Mmmm I’m not too sure if my boss will like that.” You joke.

A grin fights to spread on his lips. “Yeah, baby? Since when do you care about making me upset?”  

“Since always.” Bullshit. You make him upset for the fun of it. The way his brows knit together and he gets that frown, arms crossed over his chest. He looked so good when he was mad. 

He reaches out his hand and pushes back on your chair to make it recline the closer he gets to your face, a small hum coming from his mouth. Menthol and tobacco tickles your nose as Joel leans in as close as he can before touching his plush lips to yours. You can almost taste him. You need him so badly. 

“You’re not a very good liar, sweet girl.” 

He finally closes the gap between you two and his tongue immediately wants access to your mouth which you happily oblige. Pulling him closer as if he was going to disappear, you run your fingers through his dirty curls at the nape of his neck. He was your drug and by god did you need every single ounce of him. Soft grunts come from between his lips which causes you to smirk between kisses and makes you wonder how far he’d let this go right here at your desk. 

Just as you grab his shirt to pull it from where it was tucked in his jeans, Joel laughs and pulls away slightly, just enough to look at you. 

“Come on, let’s go home.” 

Home. 

What he means is your house, but home slipped out so effortlessly. Like clock work he’d drive you two back to your shared neighborhood and he’d grab clothes from his house and usually something to read, either the farmers almanac or a magazine from the gas station, and come over to eat dinner with you before you hole up for the night and relax. It was only on nights Sarah wasn’t home and with her mother, as she had no idea about her dad dating the cool neighbor to the left of them. You respected the idea of him not wanting to tell her yet. The feeling always came back to you late at night when Joel was asleep in your bed with soft snores coming from him, always reminding you how wonderful he really was. Joel would never put Sarah in the position to constantly have women coming and going in her life, confusing her every single time she’d come back to his house and learn her dad was no longer with his girlfriend. Alan on the other hand, was good at making your life feel like a revolving door, no stability, no good people around besides what little family of his he tolerated. Joel is the complete opposite of him and how they’re friends, you’ll never understand. 

✮

You toss your purse onto the counter as Joel locks the deadbolt on the front door before he kicks his boots off onto the mat and groans tiredly as his feet rest flat on the hardwood floor. You grab a glass from the cabinet above your head to pour yourself a glass of water to go with your fries from the diner you just left. Joel looks at you with a puzzled expression on his face as he walks over to you. 

“What are you doin’, I thought you were full?”

You put a fry in your mouth and look at him before answering.

“No, but I noticed how tired you were and I didn’t want you to wait on me to finish so that’s why I asked Pearl for a box. No big deal baby, it’s fine.” 

Joel's face drops as he starts to understand why you did what you did. 

“Baby…” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before continuing, “please don’t do that.” 

“Do what?” You question with a mouth full of french fries and look at him confused. You weren’t seeing an issue with what you did but it was clear Joel was feeling differently. 

“This. Don’t rush yourself and not finish eating because you think I’m annoyed you’re taking too long or whatever may be the case.” Joel checks his tone and makes sure he’s not coming across as mad, but concerned. 

He steps in front of you and grabs your face, thumb smoothing over your cheek slowly as he looks at your eyes. 

“As corny as this is gonna sound, I'm gonna say it anyway. I will always wait for you, doesn’t matter what Im waiting on you for. If you’re eating I want you to enjoy your food, not look at me and think you gotta finish the rest at home because you think I’m gonna get mad at ya. Take your time, okay? I’m not going anywhere. Promise.” His attempt at reassuring you ends with a kiss to your forehead and his arms wrapping around you tightly until you’re against him with not an inch between you two. 

Your throat tightens with the need to apologize for doing that, as if you’ve done something wrong. 

“Okay…I’m sorry…” You mutter against his chest. 

“It’s fine, honey. I’m not mad at ya. Tell you what, why don’t I go shower and then we can watch a movie. How’s that sound?” You kiss him in agreement and Joel gives you a tired smile before he walks towards the bathroom with his clean clothes in hand. Time ticks on and it feels like eternity before you hear the water start and the shower curtain close and you couldn’t help but want to sit in there with him and just be near him. He made you finally feel comfortable in every aspect of yourself to allow yourself the small things as such.

You walk over to the bathroom door and clutch the crystal door knob to give it a turn and open the door just enough for you to slip inside. Steam whooshes past your face and the smell of your cucumber melon body wash fills your nose and you can’t help but smile at him smelling like you, never gets old.

“What’re you doin’ in here?” Joel hollers in a playful tone as he lathers his body with soap. 

You rest against the sink with your arms folded over your chest and for a second you think about ripping your clothes off to join him. You must’ve been taking too long to respond, suddenly your face was sprinkled with water to snap you back to reality. 

“You just gonna stand there and be silent or are you gonna get your ass in here?” 

That was all you needed to hear. Your clothes were on the floor before he could finish rinsing the stress filled day off his body. Joel turns around to the back of the shower and looks at you kind of surprised, not thinking you’d really join him in the shower. He switches spots with you and your eyes flutter shut with the trail of warm water running down your body until you’re covered in it. 

“Do you want me to wash your back for you, honey?” 

You think for a moment and answer Joel truthfully.

“Not at the moment but um…I was wondering if you’d hold me? Just for a second and then I’ll wa-“ 

Joel stops you by wrapping his arms around your torso from behind and giving you a light squeeze to let you know it’s okay. 

Nothing mattered in that moment besides him in that ugly green bathroom you hated so much, with his arms wrapped around you as if he’s won the lottery or something. To him he did, he definitely won. 

Joel, trying to be as much of a gentleman as he could be, starts to inch his fingers down your hip little by little, tugging you closer against his groin. 

“You’re so beautiful. Fuck I’m so lucky to even be this close to you.” He kisses your shoulder and continues speaking.

“To touch you.” A kiss between your shoulder blades.

“To see your bratty ass sitting so pretty at that desk at work…bet you didn’t even know you make me so hard I have to distract myself with something else before I do something I’ll regret.” His teeth ever so slightly graze your earlobe before he spins you around to face him. 

You open your eyes slowly and decide to test him a little more. 

“Like what? What would you do that you’d regret?” Smoothing over his sides beneath the warm water, you kiss his chest and hear his breath shudder, distracted from giving you a polite version of his answer. 

“To take you to the bathroom stall and eat your pussy until you’re screaming against my hand on your mouth, begging me to stop.”

“What makes you think I’d let you get that far before I’d get my hands on you?” You retort. Joke was on him, you’d never let him get ahead of you like that before you got your way with him first.

Still, you wanted to play this game with him. Before he could respond, you lean up and kiss him roughly, your hand traveling down his stomach until you bump his cock, already half hard just thinking about having you in such a predicament. 

A moan chokes out from Joel as if he’s been holding that one back forever and you can’t help but get into how much power you have over him, regardless what he says. Each stroke to his cock from your wet hand earns you a louder moan than the previous one, his hand reaching down desperately to cup your ass, water splashing against your feet harshly.

“F-fuck baby, jus’ like that. My god-” 

You hook your arm on his shoulder to keep him still as you go faster and kiss his neck, more and more moans pouring from his soft lips like honey. Joel’s knees begin to buckle a little and you smirk in the crook of his neck before biting the skin just enough to make him wince. 

“You’re so fucking hard, Joel. Dirty old man, thinking about eating me out at work. Tsk tsk tsk.” Whatever he’s been doing to you over the past months was giving you this new found confidence to be a dirty talker and a little dominant even though you were the biggest brat he’s ever crossed. 

Joel’s eyes squeeze tight as he takes in your words mixed with your hand curling just right over the sensitive tip. 

“O-old man, huh? But you wanna suck this old man's dick, don’t you?” 

He got you there, you wanted to do more than that. 

“Maybe, maybe not.” 

“What did I say earlier, honey…you’re not a very good liar.” He moans out and you pump his cock faster, hoping it would keep him from talking. 

Just as his groans echoes off the tile of the shower walls, you hear tires on the gravel driveway outside. You both stop in your places and turn to look out the small window above your head and notice your dad’s truck in your driveway. 

Fuck. 

Immediately you shut the water off and throw Joel’s towel at him and tell him to stay in the tub before you close the curtain on him and wrap a new towel around you from the closet. Hastily you begin to run around your entire place trying to grab anything that remotely looked like someone else was here with you. Joel’s boots sitting by the front door catches your eye and you bend down to grab them, hearing your doorbell ring. A big clunk comes from the boots hitting the closet floor before you close the doors and you can see your father’s shadow in the frosted glass of your front door. 

Fuck.

Three loud knocks to the glass pane makes you jump and you holler loud enough for him to hear outside, “One second! Hold on!” You run to your room and throw on a robe quickly before making your way back to the door with the fabric tied tightly around your body. 

You open the door to face your dad’s back and he turns to face you. 

“Bad time?” He dryly asks. 

“N-no, I was just getting out of the shower. Not trying to be rude but what are you doing here? It’s so late and I didn’t know you knew where I lived…” You close the collar on your robe more as the wind breezes past, sending goosebumps down your already anxious body. 

“I uh, I didn’t. I came to see Joel but he’s probably asleep, didn’t answer…and I noticed your car over here, didn’t know yall were neighbors.” He breathes in sharply as if he’s offended you didn’t share that with him. 

“So do I get to see the place or not?” He half asks as he’s trying to step inside before you give your answer. Noticing how pushy he’s being, it’s clear something is bothering him but he won’t spit it out. 

“No it’s really messy in here, I’ll invite you back though, promise.” You hold the door against your side tightly, foot behind it to keep it still. The awkwardness lingers while he processes you telling him no, something he’s never been able to understand when it comes from you. 

Tongue in cheek, he nods a little disappointedly and steps backwards to the railing of the porch. 

“S’okay. Didn’t think you’d want your dad in your space anyway, I get it.” There it was. The same sad sob story he always gave, his favorite card to play the second you didn’t turn into his puppet like you used to as a little girl. 

“Dad-” you begin, “-it’s not like that, I swear.” Your head falls as you can feel yourself getting more and more upset by the second. Nothing good is going to come from this, from him knowing you live here. Next to Joel. 

“Did you find a new job yet? The girls down at the bar keep talkin’ about how everyone around here knows about the little fight you caused months ago and now no one wants to hire ya.” The nerve he had to come over here, thinking you’d be chit chatty at almost eleven o’clock at night, just to hear how those bitches down at the bar that don’t even know you, tell your dad about his own daughter. 

Speechless, you stand there with a growing lump in your throat that acted as a net and stole every single word that you attempted to choke out. 

“I’m just saying, it doesn’t look good on me.” 

Unbelievable.

Blood boiling like water on a stove, you sigh loudly and stand straight up, ready to tell him exactly what you were thinking.

“I have a job now, thanks. I’ve had one for a few months now, actually. Thank you for coming over here and insulting me and telling me what the girls at that grimey fucking bar think of me. I really appreciate it, dad. Goodnight.” You slam the door and lock it before he has the chance to open it and knowing him he would. Within seconds your heartbeat begins to race and your head gets dizzy, Joel takes notice and he’s clothed now as he comes from around the corner. There’s no room to care that he heard every word of what just happened, you can’t get air into your lungs fast enough and you look panicked at him. 

“J-Joel I-” You clutch your chest and glance around the room quickly.

He rushes over to you and cups your face, muttering something to soothe you but you can’t make out what he’s saying.

“I-I’m gonna go sh-shower.” 

“Baby, are you okay? Do you want me to come sit in there with you?” He asks but everything seems so muffled over the beat of your own heart that hasn’t slowed yet. You wander towards the bathroom and shut the door behind you, locking it without answering Joel. Warm tears glide down your cheeks as you start the water once more and step in, your cold body shivering under the now hot water that feels like it’s going to melt your skin off. 

Why would he say that? Surely he defended you to them, right? As a father, he could not have just sat there and let them talk about you like that, no way. Anyone in their right mind would never let someone talk about their daughter in such a manner but this was your dad, and he wasn’t a regular dad. 

Trails of water run down your back and you stand in silence with a hand over your mouth to muffle the sobs you started to let out. You couldn’t tell if it was tears or water from the shower coating your face anymore. 

✮

The sunlight slowly begins to pour into your bedroom, mourning doves singing faintly as they sit in the trees. As you lay there with Joel snoring on his back next to you, you couldn’t help but replay the night before. Your dad knowing where you live, especially next to Joel, wasn’t something you ever planned on sharing. Deep in thought, you didn’t even notice Joel stirring awake next to you until you’re engulfed by his arms wrapping around you and tugging you into him. 

“Good morning, baby.” He mumbles in your ear and nuzzles into your neck, eyes still shut. His favorite thing to do as soon as he’s awake is to pull you close and have a cuddle before you get up for the day, but today felt different. The house was silent but there was this unmentioned tenseness you didn’t talk about from last night and you weren’t even sure if he did hear everything your dad said to you. 

Failure. An embarrassment. How long before Joel soon started to see you that way?

“Hey…you’re doin’ too much thinkin’ before you’ve had coffee. What’s the matter?” Soft kisses to your cheek snaps you out of it and you try to shake it off. 

“Nothin, it’s nothing. Do you want pancakes or waffles for breakfast?” You sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than you were Joel. 

“I want this. Just stay like this a little longer.” Joel presses more kisses to your shoulder and trails them over your chest until you’re on your back, tucked under him snugly. 

“You don't really want that.” 

Joel scoffs and dips his head under the covers to soon place his mouth on your stomach. “It’s exactly-“ he pecks your skin, “-what I want.” A low groan vibrates against your belly and you laugh slightly from the tickling sensation as your fingers manage their way into his soft bed head. 

Hooking his index and middle finger in the waistband of your panties, Joel starts to trail his mouth down your abdomen and bites at the blue cotton fabric covering your growing aching heat by the second. 

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Joel kisses your clothed pussy before dipping his fingers inside right to your clit. Slipping against his fingers makes you moan in his mouth and press your body against his enough to make your nipples brush against his arm. 

“J-fuck-Joel, please fuck me, god damn. Fuck me.” Your whiny pleads only make him finger you in more of a teasing manner, changing speeds and styles sporadically against your desperate attempts to fuck yourself against him. His mouth falls open to bite your earlobe while his fingers toy with your entrance. 

“You want daddy’s big dick inside you, hm? Use your manners.” His left hand comes up to rest on your windpipe as he kisses your lips. 

“Please, please please, daddy, please fill me up.” 

Everything was different this morning, even the sex. He felt more gentle with his actions, not wanting to throw you around like a ragdoll this time and it was a nice change for you. 

With a swift move Joel shucks off his basketball shorts and runs the tip of his cock through your folds, coating himself in your arousal as his lube. 

“That’s right, such a good girl for me.” His finger swirls slowly on your plush lips before going inside your mouth, pressing down on your tongue softly. Like muscle memory, you suck his finger and bite down firmly when he puts his cock inside you, the pressure subduing rather quickly when you adjust to him. 

Quivering warm breaths hit your neck as Joel buries his face into you. Moaning and groaning echo off your bedroom walls and you feel Joel nibble on your neck trying to get you to moan louder for him. 

“Yesss oh my god Joel, just like that please.” Your slurred words go quieter as his hips slam into you, but it wasn’t the normal rough sex. The passion was through the roof and he wanted to make you feel worshiped. 

“You’re so good to me baby doll, so damn good to me.” His husky voice is like liquid velvet in your ears and you can’t get enough. Joel’s name flys from your mouth with every other curse word you can rattle off as you start to feel that burning sensation in the pits of your belly. Arms wrapping around his neck and nails clawing at his back, your legs close around his waist subconsciously, trying to get him deep inside you as you could. It felt too good to let him sit up and pound into you, that’s not what you wanted. 

Chasing that orgasm, Joel starts to whimper in your ear everything you want to hear, squirming on top of you as he made it his mission to make you come before he did and he was putting in the work. Joel’s mouth around your nipples, biting and sucking for moments at a time before he goes back to your neck, then back to your nipples. 

“Cmon, jus’ like that. F-fuck, baby-ughhh-yes, I-I-” His words fall short on your lips as they connect, tongues dancing in the middle together. 

“I-I love y-you” was the last thing you heard before coming on his cock thrusting deeply inside of you and with a few more pumps, Joel was shooting warm ropes of cum inside you. 

Panting underneath him trying to catch your breath, you smooth the curls at the nape of his neck and whisper, “I love you too.”

I love you. 

Of course you wanted to say it months ago, hell, you’ve been waiting to say it since he defended you that night at White Pony. Being with him for the last eight months was nothing short of trying. You butt heads like no one’s business and throw little comments at each other under your breaths and he doesn’t take your shit, as do you his. 

I love you.

It sounded so good coming from him. 

I love you.

✮

Seeing Joel all fucked out and snoring softly in your room with pink sheets and pillowcases surrounding him makes you laugh quietly to yourself, the most southern man you’ve ever met who wasn’t afraid to sleep in a hyper pink room. He always tells you it’s the best sleep he can get but you’re convinced it’s just your mattress he loves. 

A knock on your front door makes you jump slightly. A Saturday morning and someone knocking on your door? Probably the neighborhood kids playing around. Pulling on your black sweatpants and a clean shirt from off the floor, you slink down the stairs and open the front door to a bouquet of roses sitting right at the edge of the stairs. 

What the fuck?

Small rainbows casted onto the wooden porch as the sun shined through it, roses dancing ever so gracefully in the breeze. A card poked through the bubblegum pink bulbs and you could feel your anxiety growing from something you were unsure about. Not many had your address but now that your dad knows where you live, who knows what shit he’d pull. 

“Miss you, baby girl! I’m so proud of you for doing what’s best for you. Hope these get to you when you need them the most. 

-mom” 

She always did have a good intuition of when you needed her the most. You dip inside without making too much noise  to grab your cigarettes and lighter from your purse sitting by the coat rack, closing the front door softly to assure Joel wouldn’t wake. 

Warm tobacco fills your lungs to take the edge off your anxiety and for some reason you couldn’t stop feeling like you needed to go see your mom. She had a cabin out in Michigan right in South Haven near the beach, private and secluded just how she always wanted, that you never grew tired of being in. It’s been years since you’ve got to go due to work and moving all over the place to get away from your mistakes that seemed to follow no matter where you went. Texas was safe, for now at least. 

The slowly burning cigarette was getting towards the end and you crushed the butt against the sidewalk before flicking it into the pebbles by your bushes and groaning at yourself mentally, knowing Joel will see it and give you an earful later about doing that. 

Why shouldn’t you go see your mom? You had the money saved up and it didn’t seem to be too hard to get your boss to agree to give you the time off. Your feet move as fast as they can back inside the house to the counter to set the flowers down and then upstairs to Joel in your bed, sound asleep on his stomach with his face barely visible behind his bicep of his arm tucked under the satin pink pillow. 

Climbing on top of him and basically straddling his ass, you pull the covers off him and rub his back slowly, dragging your nails up and down his skin softly. A couple of mumbles leave his lips as he stirs under you, his other arm reaching backwards and squeezing your leg just enough to realize it was you. 

“Mmmmbabyyyy whasthemaddur?” His cheeks squished together distort his words but by this point you were fluent in half asleep Joel language. 

“I need to ask my boss something but I don’t know what he’ll say.” You giggle and kiss the top of his back and lay your chest on him, your arms at his sides comfortably. His heart was beating faster with every rise and fall of breath he takes in. 

“I was um…I was thinking ya know…I want to go see my mom, in Michigan.” You looked in his direction before continuing. “And I was wondering if I could get maybe a week off? Pleaseeee.” You drag out the last word and start to kiss his back more in hopes he’d comply and give in faster. Was Joel really prepared to tell you no? 

He turns his head the opposite way and coughs as he wakes up more, chuckling at your attempts to butter him up. 

“You, my favorite worker, want a week off? To go on vacation? The nerve!” Joel’s dramatic tone takes you by surprise and you continue kissing his back trying to contain your laughter.

“She lives in Michigan? Must be pretty nice there on the lake- never been but I’ve been to Chicago a few times, real pretty out on the water.” The softness in his voice makes your heart swell a little and before you can stop yourself you ask flat out, “what if you came with me?” 

Joel turns to the side and dumps you onto the bed before sitting up to look at you.

“What?” The smile was long gone now from where it was mere seconds ago on his face.

You push the fluffy comforter out of your sight and meet his eyes.

“Come with me. Let me show you around Michigan and you can meet my mom, maybe.” Everything felt right, it felt like the right time for Joel to meet your mom, having been together for eight months now.

Joel fiddles with the loose thread coming from the cover and you start to get that anxious feeling again.

“I um…I can’t, darlin’...I’m sorry. I just-” He stops but he doesn’t know how to continue, so he doesn’t attempt to say more for what felt like eternity. “With Sarah and everything I can’t, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine, I get it.” Your voice cracks and you sit up facing the wall to hastily wipe your face and pretend like that didn’t just break your heart a little. 

✮

A couple weeks pass and it’s been awkward between you and Joel since he shut down the idea of meeting your mother. It wasn’t like you’d be around her the entire trip but he didn’t give you a chance to explain either. Maybe that was too far for his boundaries. 

With your flight booked and your bags packed sitting by the front door, Joel had been distant at work and didn’t stay for long when he’d come over after work. Was this your punishment for trying to grow with him?

As you dragged your luggage to the driver you booked, you notice Joel’s truck gone from his driveway and your heart drops in your chest. Not even a goodbye, see you when you get back, nothing. 

You get in the back of the car and drive to the airport with tears stinging your eyes. You’ve officially scared him off and he wants nothing to do with you now. 

His phone rings four times before you get his voicemail, that voice is like music to your ears. 

“This is Joel, I uh- I can’t come to the phone right now but leave me a message I call ya back- bye.”

The recording beeps and suddenly you’re speaking exactly what you’re thinking.

 “Joel…it’s me. I um-“ your voice cracks, a tear rolling down your cheek, “-I’m on my way to the airport right now…I just wanted to say bye. I walked over but you weren’t home even though I told you when I was leaving. Why are you doing this to me? I don’t understand…” 

The tears were flowing down your warm face, the driver nervously looking in his rear view mirror to check on you. You hang up the phone angrily before tossing it in your purse. What once was a beautiful view and lovely drive became a cry fest and blurred by tears. 

Within an hour the driver pulls up to the airport and helps you with your stuff, telling you to have a safe trip before driving off. So many couples littered the building inside, scattered off to the side either reuniting or departing, some leaving together. That should’ve been you and Joel. Ugly airport outfits and coffee in hand, laughing at the delusion that riddled your tired brains. 

You plop down on the bench near your gate and pull out your book, the faeries and mortals making it seem so much better than here. 

“You gonna read the whole time we’re in Michigan or?” That fucking voice. 

Joel.

You practically break your neck to turn and look at him, a filthy smirk plastered on his face. 

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