#and could also probably be something longer

[iamactuallysocute]

I LOVED PART 4!!!

But….i need to know.

How do the other boys act when miss manager is ovulating??????

..pretty please😙🙏

cw: so so so nsfw, lots of jerking off, every position imaginable, just boys going crazy bc I know what y’all want from me

Mystery got aggressive—not toward you, never you—but the others were his chew toys for a full 72 hours. He bit Romance so hard at one point that you swear you saw teeth marks through his shirt.

Abby went to the gym. Like, brutally hit the gym.

Jinu just… avoided eye contact. Completely. He kept fiddling with his sleeves. Adjusting his collar. Fixing his hair every time you entered the room.

Baby was an asshole.

You were basically pumping pheromones through the vents, and they were all just sitting there, marinating in the biological equivalent of a fuck-me aura they couldn’t escape.

You don’t know for sure how often they… helped themselves. But you’re not stupid. You heard things. You heard the fucking shower running at 3 a.m. A creak at night. A muffled groan. The subtle squeak of a mattress or the rhythm of a fist meeting skin.

Abby was just standing there. Right at the edge of the counter, mouth parted slightly, holding something he absolutely wasn’t about to eat.

His eyes were locked on you like you were doing a strip tease instead of cutting fruit in shorts.

You raised an eyebrow. “What.”

He blinked. Looked down. Looked up again. “…Nothing. You just—”

His voice cracked. Abby’s voice cracked.

Then he cleared his throat and flexed like his soul depended on it. “You look good. That’s all.”

The pause he gave before he walked away?

You knew. You knew. He was adjusting himself the second he rounded the corner.

He flirted with you shamelessly all day after that. Said “baby girl,” laughed too loud at your snark, flexed every time he reached for something. He wore the tiniest tank top that week, tight across his shoulders and damp around the collar, because he’d “just worked out” and didn’t ��wanna overheat.”

You weren’t blind. You knew what he wanted.

You remember wondering if he could snap your spine in half with one arm.

You also remember thinking please try.

And god, he was so good in his head, too.

When he fucked his hand at night, it was all praise. All whispered “so good for me,” and breathy grunts about your thighs. He thought about taking you in the kitchen, legs around his hips, kissing you hard enough to make you cry. He dreamed of making you cum in his lap just from his fingers. Said your name like a blessing.

And then walked by you in the morning like nothing happened.

Jinu though?

He started holding your gaze longer than usual and smiling a lot more, say, soft and warm, “You okay today?”

You okay today?

Like he wasn’t hard as hell the night before, fucking his fist under the covers while imagining your thighs pressed around his ears.

Jinu didn’t say anything crude. Didn’t look you up and down. He just tended to you. Boyfriend-coded.

But sometimes you caught him staring. When he thought you weren’t looking. Long, slow stares that moved from your mouth to your neck to the curve of your hips.

In his room, he closes his eyes and imagines your thighs, sticky and trembling. The soft gasp you’d make when he licks into your mouth. How you’d cling to him, not because he took you, but because you wanted to stay.

He didn’t touch himself at first. Just thought.

Then he broke.

And it was messy. Quiet.

Devastatingly slow.

And in his head? He made love to you. Not fucked—made love. Like it meant something. Like the skin on your thighs was sacred and your moans were something he wanted to frame and hang in a museum.

But he also imagined you riding him. Kissing his neck. Hands on his chest, breath hot and full of want.

The tiger started shadowing you more during that week. Probably because he didn’t trust Jinu not to fall in love and fuck it up. Smart cat.

Baby was insufferable.

He was the only one who didn’t adjust for the situation. No posturing. No fake sweetness. Just a ramped-up version of his usual bullshit.

He never said he could smell it. Never even hinted. But the way his nose twitched? The way his fingers would tap restlessly on surfaces when you got too close? The way he’d go silent when you leaned over a table?

He was affected. He just refused to admit it.

One time, you dropped a spoon near him.

He didn’t move. Just looked down at it, then back up at you.

You bent to pick it up and heard him exhale.

Low. Shaky. Almost a whine.

He imagined making you cry on his cock, getting you down to his level, stripping the softness from your tone until you were begging and breathless. He thought about holding your wrists down. Thought about kissing you until you sobbed. Thought about spitting in your mouth and asking you to say thank you.

Then he’d wipe himself off, glare at the ceiling, and go back to pretending you annoyed the fuck out of him.

Mystery was a silent storm.

You felt it more than saw it.

He was always strange. Growly, reactive, unpredictable, but that week? He avoided you. Which would’ve been fine if his body didn’t betray him every second he was in a room with you.

But then you’d walk by, towel around your shoulders, water on your collarbone, and he’d freeze.

Hands clenched.

Teeth bared.

You don’t even want to imagine what he did alone in the dark those nights. Probably something feral. You wouldn’t be shocked if he dug grooves into the wall with his nails just trying to keep his mind off you.

He didn’t say anything. Not one word. But he bit Abby that week.

He dreamed of pinning you against the wall, hands on your throat, mouth on your ear, growling words you’d never understand but would feel. Thought about burying himself in you so deep he forgot where he ended. Thought about you biting him back.

And I know I already talked about Romance in that part but I’ll talk about him again anyway a little bit.

He watched your lips. Your hips. The dip of your throat when you swallowed. Licked his own lips like he wanted to trade your breath for his. Got too close. Touched your thigh and didn’t move it. Let his voice drop two octaves and murmur filth like it was small talk.

He imagined tying you down. Lace. Silk.

Fucking you in front of a mirror, watching your face twist with every thrust. Telling you to scream his name louder. To cry pretty. To take it.

You knew they liked you but didn’t know that they liked you this much. You didn’t know that Romance kept a hairpin you’d left on the counter. Didn’t know he tucked it in the little pocket of his shirt and rubbed it between his fingers before going on stage.

Didn’t know he kissed it once. Drunk. Whispered “one day, baby.” to a damn piece of metal and glass.

You didn’t know that his fantasies weren’t just about fucking you, but about ruining every man who had ever touched you before.

He thought about it: your exes, your hookups, your flings. Imagined you saying “no one ever made me cum like this” while you sobbed around his cock.

He needed to be the best. The last.

And he hated that he wasn’t your first.

Even more that he wasn’t your only.

You didn’t know Abby kept things too, your chapstick, a ring you thought you lost, the wrapper from a candy you shared.

You didn’t know he’d sniffed your shirt once when you were in the shower.

Didn’t know he thought about marrying you.

Not just in the “put a ring on it” kind of way. In the domestic way of a fantasy where he picks you up from the grocery store, where you wear his hoodies and nothing else, where he carries you around the house just to make you laugh.

And yeah, sure, in his fantasies he also fucks you into the mattress hard enough to shake the bedframe, but then he’d wrap you in his arms and tell you he loved you while you drifted off on his chest.

He was a romantic. In a dumb, muscle-headed way.

You didn’t know that Baby used to mess around. But now? No one tasted good anymore. No one made him want to bother.

You didn’t know that he dreamed about breaking down for you. Like, collapsing. On his knees. Cheek on your thigh. Whispering apologies he didn’t even know he owed you.

And then, after that—in his sick, fucked up little fantasy—you’d pull his hair and ride his face until he was gasping for breath.

He didn’t understand it.

Didn’t want to.

You didn’t know Mystery watched you sleep.

You didn’t know that his fantasies weren’t about positions or even pleasure, they were about possession. He wanted you to need him. To cry for him. To scream and for it to be his name on your lips and no one else’s. He wanted to eat you up from the inside and curl around your soul and own it.

And he’d do it gently.

Slow. So slow.

And Jinu. God, you didn’t know how deep Jinu’s affection ran.

In his fantasies?

You were his wife.

No collars. No chains. Just vows. And eternity. He wanted your heart in his hands, your name tattooed on his chest, your wedding ring pressed to his lips while he kissed your stomach.

But you didn’t know he also thought about bending you over the kitchen counter. About making you say “Jinu, please” with tears in your eyes.

He was gentle with his love, sure.

But Jinu could devour.

And you would thank him for it.

[wemlygust]

I'm sorry to be this person but I really think this one is AI.

The video is 9 seconds long, aka exactly typical AI continuous shot video length. Trying to keep AI video visually consistant and believable beyond 10 seconds of continuous/uncut video gets really, really difficult and expensive (thus the subscription services people use to prompt AI videos typically limit generated videos to 10 seconds unless people shell out a lot of $$$ for a few more seconds), so AI videos are reliably either extremely short (particularly less than 10 seconds), or they're longer videos made up of lots of extremely short clips (again usually 10 seconds or less) that aren't consistent with one another (e.g. the background or location usually changes with every clip, never verifiably the same place, nor the same place from a different angle. Details of peoples' outfits may change with every 10 second clip. Etc.)

The oldest copy of the video I can find is here: https://imgur.com/snake-slithering-up-brick-wall-urfioCR

Likely uploaded to imgur for use in this reddit thread here: https://old.reddit.com/r/NatureIsFuckingLit/comments/14qnpha/a_snake_slithering_up_a_brick_wall/?sort=confidence&limit=500

That version is from July 2023, so within the timeframe of realistic AI video being possible and increasingly common.

This early version also has no audio at all, as would be expected for a raw AI video clip.

If it was real… WHO would record something THAT cool for only 9 seconds? Who on Earth?? And I cannot find any version longer than this, not even a single second longer. And with audio off? Nobody there saying "oh my god", no random wind sounds, whatever? Smartphone cameras record audio automatically; most people aren't likely to record without audio these days. So if this is real, then someone would have had to cut the audio track deliberately before uploading it. They'd have to know how to edit it at least that much, but then also choose not to bother adding any other audio to it either (as a bazillion different reposters have done) to leave it silent like this.

And if this is real, why is the upload so without detail (apart from its vanishingly short length)? No location info, no questions about what kind of snake it is, no "I was doing [thing] and turned around and saw this", no "I didn't know they could do that", nothing?

Why is the snake climbing vertically, with its head fully sideways? Would it not be more likely to climb up with its head upright? Do snakes often climb trees with their head/entire body sideways with respect to gravity? I've seen videos of snakes climbing trees, and in all the ones I've seen, the snake has still been upright while it climbs. And I mean, I'm not a snake expert, but I'm not seeing why an animal would rotate itself sideways and climb sideways when it's literally noodle-shaped and could just as easily/or more easily climb upright? If it's AI, then, well, the AI has been trained on lots and lots and lots of top-down videos of snakes on the ground or otherwise flat surface, much more than on videos of actively climbing snakes as seen from the side. So if given a prompt for a snake climbing a brick wall, AI probably would generate a snake doing it exactly like this. Sideways. Also, AI snake videos are popular as hell. You can find SO MANY fake snakes fAcTs with AI voiceovers on tiktok now. I think it's one part "people like making giant animals", and part "snakes are shocking/scary and so people click on them and provide that ad $$$$", and one part "there are just a lot of AI videos in general now".

I downloaded the video (which is in MP4 format) and looked at the metadata in VLC, and there's no camera information in it. The metadata on it consists of:

Encoded by: "Lavf58.12.100" Codec: "H264 - MPEG-4 AVC (part 10) (avc1)" Type: Video Video Resolution: 480x854 Buffer dimensions: 480x864 Frame rate: 30 Decoded format: (this is left blank) Orientation: Top left Chroma location: Left

And that's it. No other data. Googling "Lavf58.12.100" took me to a Wikipedia redirect page that directs to https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/FFmpeg, which says: "FFmpeg is a free and open-source software project consisting of a suite of libraries and programs for handling video, audio, and other multimedia files and streams. At its core is the command-line ffmpeg tool itself, designed for processing video and audio files. It is widely used for format transcoding, basic editing (trimming and concatenation), video scaling, video post-production effects, and standards compliance (SMPTE, ITU)." And in the links at the bottom of the Wikipedia article is: the FFmpeg I/O and Muxing/Demuxing Library, which says, "Libavformat (lavf) is a library for dealing with various media container formats.

Its main two purposes are demuxing - i.e. splitting a media file into component streams, and the reverse process of muxing - writing supplied data in a specified container format. It also has an I/O module which supports a number of protocols for accessing the data (e.g. file, tcp, http and others). Before using lavf, you need to call av_register_all() to register all compiled muxers, demuxers and protocols. Unless you are absolutely sure you won't use libavformat's network capabilities, you should also call avformat_network_init()." So just more about the video being edited. It could be they just demuxed it to remove the audio track, then remuxed (without replacing the audio with anything and just leaving it silent because reasons). Or maybe it's just because they converted the video to a different format. Who knows. And then they stripped out the camera and location metadata but left their editor metadata in, did they? You can set sometimes set phone cameras to not record location data, so that's believable enough, but usually you can't just not have the camera/phone metadata in there. You generally have to edit that out on purpose. But I guess more phones might be offering to strip out the metadata than used to? Maybe? Or maybe Imgur made it an option to strip metadata? (I'm sure I could google this too but I'm already too much down a rabbithole about a 9 second snake video so I'm gonna just not.) Anyway. I really want it to be real, and if anyone can prove it's real then please do (and also please explain why snek climb sideways???), but I'm gonna just assume it's AI. Since I'm seeing so many causes for suspicion and not finding anything to the contrary to suggest it's real (like a longer version of the same video, or even just a version with original audio, or a version from before 2022-ish when AI videos very like this started to proliferate). /overinvested, excessive, impulsive investigation (genuinely not sure why I care this much (I think it's 'cause I want it to be real and I'm mad to be lied to (and because nobody else seems to be saying anything and I was like but but but-))).

[a99jazzybean]

HELLOOO

i don't recall if i've popped a req in here , so disregard if i already have requested something from you

but i was thinking about your chance fic 'with a taste of your lips' and i was thinking ,,,

could we get a chance x gn!reader who has an oral fixation ? not even a sexual oral fixation , just likes to keep their mouth occupied a lot (chewing on things, rubbing things against their lips, etc) .

maybe the reader has a habit of rubbing whatever is in their hand against their lips , and this time just so happens to be chance's d20

just a little thought 🤭🤭

bonus; here's a silly <3

Love this idea! Thank you for the request! And the art is absolutely adorable!

I did add a bit that was inspired by this drabble from @juicyasstender that was inspired by With a Taste of Your Lips... Inspiration inception!

Just a Taste

synop: You have to keep your mouth occupied and find the closest object is your D20. When Chance abruptly leaves the room, you discover that he can feel what you do to his die body. With this newfound information, you decided to have some fun...

words: 4.7K

includes: chancexgn!reader, masturbation, fondling objects, thigh fucking, orgasm denial, dom!chance, reader has a "hole" and "sex"

a/n: Guys, I love this concept that the objects can feel when you interact with their object form! Also, this is smutty. No minors!

“Stop biting your nails, you’re gonna get yourself sick.” Your mother snatched your hand from your mouth. 

“I can’t help it!” You whined.

It was true, you had a natural inclination to put whatever was in your hands to your mouth. Which in this case, happened to be your actual hand. When your mother released it back to you, you looked over your nails. Bitten down, almost bleeding. Even in your little childhood brain you knew this was likely a problem. 

“I suppose we can try and find something to help.” Your mother sighed.

This issue probably came from your father, who also had issues with keeping things out of his mouth. Especially his fingers. 

“How about gum, hmm?” She eyed the stand over the grocery store conveyor belt. “You’re old enough to have that, right?” She looked down at you.

You shrugged, pretty sure you had tried it once before. 

“Yeah, you’re old enough.” She snatched a pack of bubblegum, adding it to the rest of the groceries. 

When you exited the store, she handed you a piece. You popped it into your mouth and began chewing, finding the sensation quite satisfying. Thus, you had found at least one way to curb the need to comply with your oral fixation. 

Almost two decades later, you sit at your home office. Back to old bad habits, fingers in your mouth. You had been forgetting to purchase gum with your groceries ever since you couldn’t leave the house. Seeing the stand at the checkout was always a visual reminder, one you no longer had to aid you. For now, you found yourself chewing at your nails, or fidgeting with a nearby object on your lips. The latter happened to be less dangerous to your unsuspecting fingers. 

“You know, you’re gonna get sick if you keep doing that.” Mac sat in front of you as you typed away at their keyboard. 

“You sound like my mom.” You said, pulling out your thumb and inspecting it. A ragged tip of your nail greeted you, the skin around it red. “Though, you’re probably right.” 

“Phoenicia, could you add spearmint gum to the grocery list for the weekend?” You asked your phone. 

“You got it!” She cheerily spoke, putting the item on your list. 

While you wouldn’t have your oral aid for a few days, at least you remembered to add it this time. 

For now, you would have to find something else to keep your mouth occupied. From your peripheral, you spotted your lucky D20. The object had witnessed its fair share of days dancing upon your lips. Occasionally receiving a nibble. 

Shrugging your shoulders, you picked it up. Returning to your work on your computer you brought the die to your lips. Unaware of what exactly you were doing. 

From the end of your desk, Chance sucked in a groan. Feeling your lips ghost over various parts of his body. Eyes narrowing, he sent a glare to Mac. Of course they had to point out your habit. Leading you to unconsciously teasing him. 

Ever the people pleaser, Chance would never let you know how your actions affected him. He could only picture how embarrassed it would make you. Instead, he forced himself to suffer in silence. Watching as you brushed your lips over his die body, shivering with each touch. 

Looking to your side, you spotted Chance hunched over behind his GM screen. Peeking over, you saw him looking up at you with a red face.

“S-sorry!” You sputtered. “I swear I wasn’t trying to see what you were working on…” You obviously lied. 

“Mhmm, sure…” He held in a groan as you rubbed the die across your lips, feeling a kiss against his chest. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind during our next session. Your character is at what…” he glanced down at his notes, “17 hp?” He gave you a cheeky grin, glad that your discussion of G&G was distracting him from what you were doing to his body. 

“Whaaaat??” You shuffled around your desk, looking for your character sheet. “Ah shit.” 

There it was, “17/85 hp”. Ugh, you’d probably have to take healing potion if you were planning on not dying next session. 

“If you hope to keep your mortal soul, I suggest not looking over the screen.” He teased. 

Despite his mind’s attempts at pushing away the feelings moving though his body, you still were affecting the dice greatly. The red in his face growing darker and darker with each press of your lips to his body. 

You spotted his flustered state, concern on your face. 

“Is everything alright?” You turned back to him, die still pressed against your lips. 

His eyes darted to your mouth, then to your eyes. 

“Uh, yeah.” He choked out. 

This was beginning to become unbearable. Then, of course you just had to do it. That one habit of yours that had him going absolutely insane. With just the smallest amount of teeth, you nibbled on the 19 side. Chance let out an audible groan as he felt your teeth graze the sweet spot in the crook of his neck. 

“You sure you’re good?” You pulled the die from your mouth, setting it on the table. Reaching for Chance, you placed a hand on his forehead. His skin felt extremely hot to the touch. 

“I-I’m fine! Really!” He brushed your hand away. 

“Your head is really hot. You sure you’re not sick?” Worry, furrowed your brow. 

“Us objects can’t get sick, heh.” He brushed you off again.

“If you say so…” You left it at that, returning to concentrating on your computer. 

The die was back to your mouth. 

No, no, no, not that side! Chance practically melted into a puddle as your lips pressed to his seven side. Feeling a soft warmth press right against his rock-hard crotch. 

Suddenly, the man shot up. The red still burning against his cheeks. You and the other objects gave him a concerned look. 

“Ah, um, if you’ll excuse me!” As nonchalantly as possible, he cupped his hands over his crotch, then shuffled off into whatever space he lived in, one that you had yet to see. 

In his little home, Chance rubbed a hand down his face with a groan. How much more of this would he be able to take? Sure, he managed when you didn’t know of his living existence. He was easily able to run off and take care of himself. Now, with you being able to see him, it was significantly more difficult to hide. However, admitting what you do to him? Oh, he absolutely could not handle the embarrassment that would bring you. 

For now, he would have to manage it the only way he knew how: jacking off when you weren’t looking. 

Sitting down with thud, Chance cupped himself over his pants. Giving himself a tight squeeze, he let out a satisfied moan. Pulling down his pants and boxers, his hard cock flopped out against his stomach. Gripping himself tightly, he began to pump at his length. His thumb brushing over the underside of his reddened tip. 

As he ran his fist up and down he thought about you. About your lips on him. Ones that he could still feel right now. You pressed the six side to your mouth. A kiss pressed against his thigh, making him moan. Then you slid the die to the seven, making his cock jump. Fuck. Precum beaded at the tip of his cock as he felt your lips on him. 

The mixture of your mouth and his hand would have him cumming in no time. 

Then, there it was again, your teeth nibbling on the die. This time on the 12 down his chest. As you moved the die along your lips, you pressed against his lower stomach. 

With you no longer being around, Chance let himself be loud. Moaning and praising your actions as you made him near his climax. Each pump of his cock emphasized the feeling of your mouth on his body. 

A final press of your lips to the seven was his undoing. His balls tightening, then long strands of cum bursting out of him. Coating his hand with warmth as he continued to overstimulate himself with more pumps. 

“Ah, ah, fuck. You feel so fucking good.” He moaned out. If only you knew…

As you sat unaware in your office, Mac snickered knowingly. Turning away from where Chance had run off to, you gave them a confused look.

“What’s so funny?” You asked.

“Oh nothing…” They trailed, eyes dropping to the die at your lips. 

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” Your eyes narrowed. “Spill.” 

“Aww, but you’re so fun to tease.” Mac leaned their hands on their knees, cocking their head playfully.

Narrowing your eyes further, the computer conceded with a sigh. 

“You know we can feel you interacting with the objects, right? It’s not like I’ve gushed over your double-clicking or anything…”

“Yeah, I thought that was obvious.” You said, unsure of where this was going. 

Mac coughed into their hand, motioning at the object pressed against your mouth. Eyes widening, you removed the die. Placing it down and lifting up your hands as if it were something extremely delicate. 

“You mean…” You sucked in a harsh breath, eyes wide. “He, he felt…”

“Everything.” Mac finished for you. 

“Oh. Oh no.” Your eyes were filled with horror at the realization. 

“Eh, I wouldn’t worry about it.” Mac waved you off.

“Why shouldn't I worry? I’ve been mouthing at Chance without even knowing!” You groaned, making your head fall into your hands. 

“Why do you think he hasn’t told you?” Mac gave you a pointed look.

Peeking through your fingers, your eyes widened again. That’s right, he hadn’t ever told you. This wasn’t a habit of yours that just began, you had been doing it for years. Yet, Chance, not even once, had told you. 

“He likes it?” 

“I mean, all of us kinda do…” Mac trailed. “However, Chance has been one of the luckier ones you tend to play with.” 

“What am I supposed to do now that I know this?” You asked, voice cracking. 

Inside you were filled with a weird mixture of embarrassment and intrigue. On the one hand, you had literally been kissing and nibbling on Chance’s body this entire time. On the other hand, Chance had never said anything about it. Which could mean that he liked it, or he could be absolutely mortified about it. 

Thinking on it though, you remembered his state earlier. Red in the face and stuttering. It didn’t seem like the embarrassed kind. More like the flustered kind. Then there was the fact that he had run away. Run away while covering his crotch… Oh god… He liked it!

A lightbulb went off in your head, and a mischievous grin grew on your face. One that Mac caught. They quirked a brow, wondering where your head was at.

“Care to share your thoughts? You’re giving me that look you get when you come up with something new for a self-insert fic.” 

“Oh, I have some ideas…” You chuckled to yourself. 

Chance had always interested you. He was one of the very first items you came across when you first received the Dateviators. At first sight, you were pretty much smitten. The personified D20 charming you immediately. It didn’t help that he was quite the flirt, especially when he was in his GM mode. 

Having the knowledge that you were able to affect him in such a way, well that was a fun surprise to say the least. A surprise that you would be taking advantage of.

You glanced at the calendar on your computer, letting out an amused huff. In just two days, you would have your next session with Chance. A session that you will be enjoying greatly.

When Chance returned to the office, you had already left. While part of him was disappointed, another part of him let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t know if he could face you after what he had just done. Little did he know, you were about to make things worse for him. 

For the next two days you decided to make sure you were right about your suspicions regarding Chance. Continuing to play with his die by your lips whenever you were in the office. Testing out different ways to mess with your favorite D20. 

With each press of your lips to the die, you watched him out of your peripheral vision. Every time he felt your mouth on him, his face grew red and his breathing grew labored. He did his best to hold himself together, but found himself running off to take care of himself before things got too bad. If you continued to mouth him like that, he surely would cum in his pants. While his condition was certainly embarrassing, he could not be seen doing that. 

Every reaction you gained from him, you catalogued in your mind. Making sure you knew exactly what got him going. 

From your observations, you found that each side of his die resulted in a response from a different part of his body. You noted that the seven and eight elicited more intriguing results. 

Soon enough, the day of your next G&G session arrived. Across the table you sat with a smirk. Looking at you over his screen, Chance raised a questioning brow. 

“What are you looking so smug about?” He asked, fingers below his chin as he attempted to get a read on you.

“Oh nothing… I just know how I’m going to get my way this session.” You said, the smirk turning into a cheeky grin.

“Is that so?” 

“It very much is.” Your finger messed with his die on the table. 

You watched as he began to shuffle in his seat uncomfortably. Tracing around the six, you saw him shudder. The feeling of your finger stroking over his thigh, almost making him keen. He managed to hold himself back, a blush begging to bloom on his neck. 

“R-right, we’ll see about that.” He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Anyways, shall we begin?”

“We shall!” You gave him a soft smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. Instead, something else swirled in your irises. Something that had Chance shivering. 

He cleared his throat again, then cracked his knuckles. Surely he could make it through his session, right?

  Very quickly, you proved him wrong. The die brought to your lips as you concentrated on Chance’s storytelling. 

“So, you’re currently fighting against a group of undead skeletons and a necromancer in the kingdom’s cemetery. Right now you are 17 health. It is your turn to go…”

As you looked over your character sheet, you pressed your lips to the die. An action that could be seen as wholly innocent, though the intentional placement of your lips was most certainly not. The 10 slid over your bottom lip, making Chance feel a kiss upon his lower belly. The feeling made him visibly shiver. 

“Hmmm…” You moved the die to the six side. His thigh received the warm caress of your lips. “I think I’ll pop a healing potion for now.” You set the die down. 

When you released your hold on the die, you swore you heard him sigh. This was torture for him. Blissful, sexy torture, but torture nonetheless. 

“Okay, roll your two D4 please.” 

You rolled the dice, earning you five points of health back. When you finished your roll, Chance’s D20 returned to your mouth. The man let out a huff at the feeling. 

Looking at him, you caught his gaze. Pupils blown out, mouth slightly hung open as if he was trying to catch his breath. Just a dusting of red on his cheeks as he held himself back. Catching your gaze, Chance was taken aback. There was a knowing look in your eyes. 

He watched as his die moved over your lips. Then, your fingers twisted it around. The seven side now pressed to them. Keeping eye contact, you added more pressure. Kissing the die deliberately. 

Chance let out a soft grunt, doing his best not to moan out as you mouthed at the die equivalent of his dick. Then, you were mean. Tongue lightly flicking out against the number.

There it was in your eyes, that mischievous, knowing look. One that had a smirk written on your face as you toyed with the die. 

You knew! You fucking knew! 

As if your tongue wasn’t enough, you moved the die again. This time nibbling on the 19. You watched with amusement at Chance lifted his neck to the feeling of your teeth scraping along his throat. Then, you set the die back down.

“Y-you,” Chance caught his breath, “you regain five points of health back.” He croaked. 

“Awesome. I’d like to use my bonus action to prepare to dodge.” You said, that smirk still on your lips.

“Of course.” He did his best to regain his composure. 

It was now the enemies’ turn, in more ways than one it seemed. 

“One of the skeletons is going to attack you with its longswoooord, oh!” Your tongue was back on the seven. “It, it-” His face had gone bright red now.

“It what?” You pulled back the die, a small strand of saliva breaking away as you did so.

“It hits!” He gasped out as your tongue returned. 

Why was he continuing to let this go on? He knew, oh he knew why. This was only something he could dream of. You knowingly teasing him. However, he knew it would become unbearable if he didn’t do something about it. 

“You didn’t roll though, how did it hit?” You played coy with another cheeky grin. 

“It just does.” He said through gritted teeth, eyes narrowing as you returned to pressing the die against your lips. 

“Does it, now?” You nipped at the five, the feeling of your teeth hitting the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. 

“F-fuck. Yes it does!” He slammed his hands on the table, pushing himself up. 

As he lifted up, your eyes darted to the prominent bulge in his pants. The sight had your mouth watering. Oh, you could get used to this. Moving your gaze up, you shivered as you met Chance’s eyes. They were dark, filled with hunger. 

His hands gripped at the table harshly. Fingernails biting into the wood as he tried to keep himself composed. 

You didn’t stop messing with his die. Mouthing around various sides, just slightly avoiding the numbers that would stimulate his sex. A teasing smirk on your lips as you trailed the die along them. 

That darkness in his eyes grew as he let out an audible groan. How much more could he take before he snapped? By now he had to be close to his boiling point. With his shivering body and labored breathing, he would crack soon. 

Staring straight into his eyes, you flicked your tongue out on the seven. There it was, a spark of something even deeper in Chance’s eyes. Want. 

With what little composure he had, Chance marched over to you. Your eyes trailed to his chest as you watched him inhale and release harsh breaths. 

Giving him an innocent bat of your lashes, you looked up at him with a confused stare. Cocking your head to the side as you read the frustration on his face. 

“Is something wrong?” You asked sweetly, pressing the die to your lips. 

“Get up.” It wasn’t a question, it was a command. 

“Why should I?” You decided to tease, see how far you could really push him. 

“Because I’m not asking.” He placed a hand on the back of your chair, leaning his large frame over your body. 

“Maybe you should.” You kissed the six of the die. “It’s polite.” 

“Get up. Or I will make you.” 

Oh. Well that was certainly new. Something that you were very interested in. 

“As you wish.”

He moved away, letting you stand up. As soon as you were on your feet, the man walked you back. Pressing you against your office wall, making you let out a sharp gasp. 

“What’s this all about?” You cocked your head with a coy smile. 

“You and I know very well what ‘this’ is about.” He practically spat. 

He was now nose to nose with you. Hot breaths fanning your face as he pinned you to the wall. 

“What exactly am I supposed to ‘know’, Chance?”

The die in your hand returned to your lips. You gave it a little nip, watching with amusement as his eyes scrunched shut with a groan. Opening them, you were met with that deep look of want once more. It had you shivering. 

“Care if I show you?” He asked lowly. 

“Be my guest.” You feigned an air of confidence, but couldn’t help the slight waver in your voice. His dominating presence had you squirming. 

Slowly, he leaned towards you. Lips puckered to kiss you. Fluttering your eyes shut, you leaned in. Only a low chuckle met you. Instead, Chance’s head turned to kiss up your jaw and down your neck. The featherlight kisses had you letting out soft whines. 

When his mouth reached the crook of your neck, he gave you a soft bite. The feeling had you yelping, making Chance bite you again. This time, lightly scraping his teeth up your neck. 

When he pulled away, he appraised his work. Dark marks now forming around your pulse point and sweet spots along the column of your throat. His thumb lightly brushed over one of the bruises as he let out a satisfied huff. 

“Now, do you know what I’m talking about?” He leaned toward you with an amused hum. Loving the way you squirmed from his close proximity. 

But he couldn’t win that easily. 

“No, I don’t know.” You grinned at him, eyes sparkling teasingly. 

Gritting his teeth, he grabbed your wrist. Holding up the hand that held his die in front of your face. 

“Don’t try to play coy. I know you know.” 

“You still have yet to tell me what I ‘know’, exactly.” You teased. 

“Fine.” He let out a harsh breath. “I can play this game too, you know?” He released your hand. 

His own warm hands slid up your body. Softly caressing you. Leaning in, he whispered into your ear. 

“Tell me to stop, and I will. But if you want me to keep going…well…” He chuckled darkly. “You’ll see.” 

“I won’t stop you.” You cocked your head to the side giving him a challenging stare. 

With the dice in your hand you brought it to your lips, giving it a kiss on the seven side. You watched Chance shudder and groan at the feeling. 

Suddenly, your hand was pinned to the wall. 

“Do that again, see what happens.” He hissed through gritted teeth. 

With surprising strength, Chance flipped you around. Shoving your chest into the wall. From behind, you felt him press against your body. The outline of his hard cock pushed against your ass. 

“Do you feel what you do to me?” He breathed against your ear. “Do you know what it’s like?” He groaned, grinding himself against you. 

“Know what, what’s like?” You asked quietly. 

“What it’s like,” his hand slid down your torso and teased over your pants, “to be touched, but you can’t do anything about it.” 

Gasping, you tried to cross your legs as he cupped over your sex. With his thigh, he pushed your legs apart. He tsked you with a click of his tongue. 

“Nuh uh, you’re not running away from this.” His hand returned to playing with you over your pants. “After all, I couldn’t run away from you.” 

“B-but you did. You always left the room.” You looked at him over your shoulder, shivering at the lustful gaze deep in his eyes. 

“I certainly tried. But I couldn’t really escape you. Not your lips, not your kisses, your tongue, the biting.” He emphasized the final word with a bite to your shoulder. 

“Ah, mmph!” You moaned as his hand continued to cup over you. Teasing you with light strokes and squeezes. 

As he continued to touch you, you felt yourself growing more and more aroused. Needing some type of friction to assist you. However, Chance didn’t appear to care all too much. Enjoying the sounds of your whimpers and moans as you helplessly took what he gave you. 

Pulling his hand back, you let out a whine. From behind you heard the shuffling of his pants. Chance let them hit the floor. Looking over your shoulder you moaned at the sight. 

Chance stood there, his cock out and standing proud. His length, thick and delicious looking. Fuck, you needed it. 

For a moment, Chance watched you. His hand wrapped around his cock, slowly pumping away. Beads of precum dripping down the shaft. The amused smirk on his face indicated how much he enjoyed watching you squirm. 

“Chance…” You let out a groan. 

“Yes?” His voice held a teasing lilt. 

“Please…”

“Please what? Use your words.” 

“Please just do something!” You whined, dropping your head in exasperation. 

“I am doing something.” He groaned, gripping his dick tighter and pumping faster. 

“You know what I mean!” You huffed in frustration. 

“Do I? You didn’t seem to understand what I was telling you earlier.” He stopped touching himself. 

Pressing his body against yours, he spoke into your ear. 

“So tell me,” he purred, “What. Do. You. Know?” You felt his cock press into your backside. 

“I know! I know that you can feel what happens to your die!” The time for teasing was over, you needed him, NOW. 

“Was that so hard?” He chuckled, placing a soft kiss under your ear. 

Quickly, Chance pulled down your pants and underwear. Warm hands grabbed at the swell of your ass, giving it a squeeze. One of his hands trailed between your legs, cupping your bare sex. The action had you jolting. Every part of your being was on fire from his teasing. Buzzing with an ever growing energy that you wished to dispel. 

Pushing between your legs, you felt Chance’s thick cock. He groaned at the feel of your plush thighs squeezing around his length. The head of his cock brushed up against your awaiting hole, but he didn’t push in. No, instead he continued to fuck your thighs. Gripping them tightly as he thrust in and out. His cock just barely teasing your sex as it brushed past. You whined at the lack of friction, but the man behind you didn’t let up. 

He moaned as he continued to fuck between your legs. Occasionally teasing your hole, but never entering you. A smug smirk on his face as you looked over your shoulder with a glare. 

“Chance, please!” You cried out as he brushed up against your most sensitive parts. “I can’t take it. Please just fuck me!”

“No.” He said lowly as he continued to pummel himself between your legs. 

He leaned over your shoulder, biting into it again. 

“You’re gonna take me like a good little slut. Since you like teasing me like one. So, no whining or complaining.” He growled into your ear before nipping it lightly. 

“I can’t take it!” You felt tears of desperation prick at your eyes. 

“Yes you can.” He moaned, feeling his climax grow nearer. 

“N-no! It’s too much! Please!” Your whimpers only spurred him on. 

Forcing your hips back he fucked between your thighs over and over. Cock brushing up to your hole for the barest amount of friction. 

With a final pump, he let out the lewdest moan. Cock spraying out ropes of cum, painting your thighs white. His arms wrapped around your middle as he shook with the aftershocks of his orgasm. 

His lips pressed soft wet kisses up your throat. Warm hands caressed at your sides. 

Slipping out of your thighs, he groaned lowly. Turning around, you saw the man red in the face. His chest heaving with labored breaths. Despite his tired state, he gave you a smirk. 

He pulled up his pants and walked up to you. Gripping your chin, he brought your face to his. Softly, he pecked your lips. Giving you just a taste of him. He let you go, then turned to walk away. Throwing a cheeky grin over his shoulder, he spoke. 

“Now you know how it feels.” 

[trippinsorrows]

dreamland: trick or treat

authors note: not sure where the idea for this came from, nor did i expect it to be this long, but here we are. there are some callback moments to 'the school projects' oneshot, but it's not germane, in the event you haven't read that one.

warnings: none, outside of roman being on the verge of a nervous breakdown from dealing with his 5011 children.

word count: 6k (and some change)

He knew it was a bad idea.

Roman just knew it was a bad idea. Knew that he should have pushed back more. Should have helped his kind, wonderful, beautiful, sexy, fine ass but sometimes naive wife understand why in the many ideas she’s had since they’ve been together, this has to be one of the worst. If not thee worst.

But, also….he knows it’s not like they have very many options.

Neither himself nor Solana have ever been big on leaving the kids alone when they’re not feeling well, especially when they’re babies.

And at barely three, Koa and Kai fall under all of the listed categories.

Kai was the first one to come down with a nasty cold, his twin brother following shortly after. Something both parents already knew to expect having experienced the ease at which sickness passes between twin children. What they weren’t entirely expecting, however, was Solana to also contract said cold from their babies. Not entirely, at least, as it was “her” turn to tend to them, given the two parents often alternate who is the primary caretaker of their ill kids while the other caters to the non-sick kids.

At the time, Roman questioned if he’d been given the short-end of the stick, because of course, this all kicked off a little under two weeks before Halloween. That meant he was in charge helping the children prepare, namely helping them figure out costumes.

And not that Solana, again, his amazing, too good for him and these damn kids, wife didn’t think to start preparing ahead of time. No, she’d helped all the kids pick out costumes before even Thanksgiving rolled around.

But, of course, only his children would change their minds at the last minute. Everyone except Leya.

He swears when all is said and done she’ll be the one to inherit everything.

Lina, Tama, and Aria all wanting to get new costumes, no longer wanting to dress as what they’d chosen before. That meant he had to take them shopping to try to find the new characters they’d decided they wanted to be because their mission in life it seems is to stress him the fuck out with these things.

Or, to kill him.

He’s still undecided.

Roman spent six hours driving them all over town, helping them track down this headpiece and that princess dress. Sat in the art room trying to help them modify certain things, because off the rack and just right would be too good.

Endured the horror of watching various makeup tutorials on YouTube trying to nail down face paint, all things completely out of his league. Hence why his artistic daughter, Leya, had to help out at some points. A small part of him wishing he’d taken up Solana’s suggestion to have Rhea come over and assist, as she had last year with costumes and makeup.

He declined.

That girl will not turn any of his children into satanic cult members.

He just…..did what he could.

But, even with all of that stress, nothing could have prepared him for when the night finally arrived. Because a part of him thought, naively probably, that Solana would be better by then. That she would be coming with them, as she always did, as they both took the kids trick or treating.

He was wrong.

So….so wrong.

Not only was she still not up to it, but his baby boys were still not entirely out the woods.

That only meant one thing.

Alone.

He would have to take the kids trick or treating alone.

Hence the moment he knew this was going to be a shit show of a night.

And as with most of his projections, he was right.

Roman never really realized just how crucial and how much of a difference it makes to have another adult present trying to watch and manage four children, all under the age of 10. Especially his kids.

Though, truth be told, it’s not entirely awful at first.

They’re mostly well behaved as he drives them to the neighborhood he and Solana always take the children to for one of their favorite holidays.

As the massive compound he’d built for his forever growing family sits pretty isolated, traveling to a different neighborhood is a requirement. Not his favorite. He’d much prefer to just buy the kids a bunch of candy, pop in a movie, and call it a night.

But, that’s neither here nor there.

“Ya’ll know the rules,” he reminded, glancing at the four of them through the rearview mirror. “Stay close to me. I don’t care what friend you see or costume you want to look at up close. Don’t wander off. You hear me?”

A chorus of “yes, sir’s” that are the closest thing he gets to agreement from them, because if there’s one thing the kids are usually good with, it's not playing around with safety.

They know that that’s where the line is drawn.

Roman parks near one of the houses closest to entrance of the gated community, uncaring of whose house it is, of course.

And, the minute the car is in park, the shenanigans begin. Tama, the first one out of his seat, trying to unlock the door. Having met the height requirements, he's no longer in a booster seat. Thus, his helping Lina get out of hers. Aria kicking her feet in hers, eager and ready to be released. Leya is the only one to sit patiently and quietly, waiting for Roman to take her out. Unlike the rest of his unruly ass children.

“Remember what I said,” he calls out once all the children are freed, feet on the ground, ready to get to it.

Not that they’re listening to him. Leya, probably, but she always listens.

If only her siblings could do the same.

Naturally, Roman is most horrified at the amount of children present. He’s not sure if it’s because having Solana with him to talk to helps distract him from just how many little bodies are present for this night, but it seems like every damn kid in the city has decided to make this neighborhood their first or only stop for the night.

Roman’s scowl remains present as he ignores the little people that occasionally brush against him and the parents who fail to teach their children the importance of social fucking distancing.

It’s really the way that Leya stays beside him as they move between houses, her hand in his, that sort of helps to keep him grounded. The only time she moves away is when the kids approach porches and houses to collect candy.

He’s half expecting Aria to be in his arms the whole night, as she was last year. Feet hardly hitting pavement as she preferred for him to hold her, Solana with her candy bucket, handling the collection of candy.

Not this year.

This year, his youngest daughter, seems eager for any and all to get a full view of her selected costume. Princess. Some Disney princess. Beatrice or something like that. Aria decked from head to toe in a yellow gown, diamond tiara, matching shoes, and a diamond necklace.

Excessive, to some people, for his five year-old to be wearing thousands of dollars in jewelry. If only he gave two shits what anyone thought.

“I’m a princess!” Is her introduction to almost every set of parents, grandparents, and others who, for some reason, choose to participate in this damn nightmare of a holiday. Lord knows if he and Solana actually had neighbors at the compound, he would keep damn near every light off outside to keep any and all away.

But, unlike her potentially obvious introduction, Lina and Tama are less about the explanations and more about the collection.

Understandable, given even Roman, with his lack of knowledge regarding most things entertainment and pop culture, knows and can pinpoint and identify.

Lina’s two toned wig, blue and red on top of blonde, borderline white hair. Pale, almost clown-like face paints. The matching outfit that consists of shorts, a shirt, and a biker themed jacket. The bat in her hand that Solana told him to not let her bring for fear of safety concerns but he ultimately decided against.

Tama’s black padded costume, the mask, and pointed ears.

Anyone with vision could see Harley Quinn and Batman.

Thus, they need no introductions.

The first thing happening after “trick or treat” leaves their mouth is the extending of their arms as they await candy Solana and Roman will certainly have to hide to keep their sugar craving children from eating it all.

Leya, in her insanely appropriate and fitting white angel costume—halo included—is usually right behind the non-twins, patiently and kindly waiting for her turn to retrieve candy.

It’s the song and the dance for the night, Roman often having to call out various commands.

“Stop getting so close to the street.”

“How much more candy do ya’ll need?”

“No, you cannot go talk to them. Ya’ll don’t even know them.”

“Well, you better hold it. I told ya’ll to use the bathroom before we left.”

“Ya’ll ain’t ready to go home yet?”

As the night passes, Roman works hard to maintain his composure, though being surrounded by loud ass, rambunctious children that he didn’t create makes it infinitely difficult. Solana’s occasional check-in texts receiving simple, one to three word responses. He’ll be sure to give her the full story whenever they escape this minor filled hell.

And, Roman damn sure ignores the mostly mocking texts from his brother and cousin. The fuckers already aware of the fact that Roman is deeply regretting any and all decisions leading up to this nightmare of an evening.

The family approaches another house, Lina and Tama rushing up the steps, Leya holding Aria’s hand as they walk calmly behind, when all of a sudden, a rush of stale smelling wind that makes Roman’s scowl deepens.

A reaction that only intensifies following what happens next.

Two little boys, probably around 7 or 8, rush past the other kids, but it’s not those kids Roman cares about. It’s the fact that they’re rushing, brushing, and shoving Leya and Aria that has him fuming.

Has his fist forming at his side as both his girls fall to the pavement, Leya frowning, and Aria calling out a passioned, angry “hey!” after the little fuckers.

“Son of a—” Roman stops himself, moving to his girls, checking up on them first and helping them back to their first. That’s the first order of business. However, before he can redirect his focus to handling the second part, it appears he’s beaten to it.

Both Lina and Tama are turned around, looking down from the top of the porch steps, and their matching scowls—similar to Roman’s—clearly prove they either saw or are aware of what just happened.

And, they’re the farthest thing from happy.

Lina is the first to move, turning and looking at the boys, dressed in some weird ass robot looking costume. “Hey!” Her loud shout collects the attention of several kids and parents. “Don’t touch my sisters!”

“Yeah!” Tama echoes, the two of them pushing the boys away from the front door where a blonde woman frowns at the scene unfolding. Similar expressions as Lina and Tama take it a step—or several—further.

Roman sees the moment Tama lifts his arm, fist flying and aiming at one of the boys. The moment Lina lifts her bat and swings it in the other boy’s direction. Their acts of retaliation sending the boys toppling down the steps and earning horrified, shocked gasps and sounds.

Roman keeps his hand on both Aria and Leya’s shoulder, uncaring of the boys groaning in pain, two adults coming forward to tend to them, one of them that unnamed blonde woman.

“What the hell!”

The scowl on the Tribal Chief’s face is replaced with a small smirk as two of his oldest kids come down the steps, taking Leya and Aria’s hand, leading them back up the porch as they help themselves to candy, filling their baskets as well as Leya and Aria’s baskets. Completely unbothered.

“What the fuck is wrong with them?” An angered question, Roman turning to one of the parents, or whomever, a male with a receding hairline and a height that starts with a 5.

Pathetic.

Roman’s demeanor is as stoic and even as his tone. “You wanna end up on the ground with your kid?” A calm question with the promise of everything but, the other man swallowing, eyes wide with a wise amount of fear. “Then, I suggest you shut the fuck up.”

Words the man heeds to, sulking shoulders as he turns his attention back to the boys, one of which is holding onto his side with a grimace of pain, the other with his hand over his nose, blood seeping through.

Roman remains unbothered.

He simply reaches for his kids who come down the steps, Lina skipping happily while swinging her bat. Roman already know she’s good, so it’s Tama he checks on, asking, “your fist alright?”

Tama nods, giving a thumbs up, going right back to discussing with his siblings the candy he scored. Roman chuckles, making a mental note to check out his hand when they get home and his son is out of costume.

One thing he and Solana have always noticed about the terrible non-twins is that they, like Roman, have high pain tolerances. Those two could have limbs hanging off and still walk it off, ready to move onto the next thing.

Nothing fazes them.

Despite the scene caused at some random person’s house, the kids continue to stride on without a care in the world, Roman keeping an even closer eye on his youngest girls.

Clearly, his oldest two are good and fine.

At the next house, the kids retrieving their candy, Roman feels a presence near him. Looking down, he’s met with wide green eyes surrounded by an eye mask. One look reveals it’s a little boy in a Robin costume. Around the same age as Lina and/or Tama. His presence and close proximity instantly irritating the Tribal Chief.

“You’re really big,” he observes, voice filled with all the childhood wonder. “What are you dressed up as?”

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Roman dons one of the OTC hoodies Solana had made for him, jeans, and Jordan’s. He’s dressed as a father who clearly loves his kids to sacrifice his mental wellbeing just for a few hours of their enjoyment.

But, that seems not like the best response. Not like his actual one is any better, though.

“A mafia kingpin that kills people who annoy him for asking too many fucking questions.”

Even Roman and all his stubbornness can acknowledge that’s probably not the best thing to say to a young kid, but in his weak defense, he’s been out here a little over an hour with his children. It’s late, he’s surrounded by kids, and he doesn’t have his wife. These are all the ingredients for a disastrous recipe.

Kid can just get some therapy later in life or something.

Except, instead of being met with a horrified expression, he encounters the exact opposite.

“That’s so cool!”

The roles are reversed, and Roman is the one who’s slightly disturbed. His scowl deepened. The fuck is wrong with this kid? “What—”

“How do you kill people?” The kid asks with all the curiosity and calmness, as if inquiring about Roman’s favorite color. “Guns? Knives? Machete?”

Roman says nothing, still annoyed by being spoken to but mostly disturbed by the line of questioning this conversation has taken.

Thankfully, it’s a short-lived conversation.

A woman, psycho Billy’s mother, Roman would assume, comes rushing over offering a nervous smile while moving her arms around the young boy, ushering him away. Roman can vaguely overhear her lecturing him about talking to strangers.

Lady, I think him talking to strangers should be the least of your worries.

Perhaps that therapy should come sooner rather than later.

Onto the next house, Roman has just responded to Solana’s latest text asking if they’re having “fun,” something that he offers a simple ‘yes’ to. Surely, his wife must know that nothing about this whole thing is fun. It’s torture. Nothing but pure torture that only her sitting on his face once she’s all better will somewhat ease the discomfort from.

But, they can have that discussion later.

Once more, he waits, lingering near the sidewalk as the kids continue to fill their baskets with way too much candy for any one kid, when yet another unwanted distraction.

Not a child. Worse.

A soccer mom. One that Roman actually recognizes from Lina’s team.

Fucking hell.

“Mr. Reigns,” she smiles, the act revealing the crow’s line near her eyes. “What a pleasant surprise.”

Roman says absolutely nothing.

She clears her throat, adjusting her bang and then her top. It’s only then Roman briefly takes notice of her costume. Not from admiration or anything of the sort. More disgust. She’s dressed as Selena. Her purple bodysuit with cutouts near the chest, an outfit worn by the late singer at her infamous and last concert at the Houston Astrodome. An iconic look. A look being put to shame by a clearly botched body. Hips awkwardly wide, stick thin legs, no thighs, an ass that matches none of it, and a set of hard looking fake tits to top it all off. It’s unappealing in every sort of way, especially when Roman thinks about his wife. How Solana, ironically, wore the same costume last year for Halloween, beautifully filling it out in every sort of way Pilates Penny probably thinks she’s filling it out.

Not even fucking close.

“Where are your kids?”

Taking too damn long to get some goddamn candy.

Still, Roman says nothing, his ability to ignore unparalleled.

Another awkward clearing of her throat as the botched bitch has the audacity to move closure. Roman’s nose turns up at the smell of her cheap ass perfume. Shit is nauseating. Almost as much as the glimpse he catches through excellent peripheral vision of her trying to shove them hard ass tits in his face.

All the while with that Jared’s Jewelry looking ass wedding ring on her finger.

The audacity.

Finally irritated enough to break his silence, Roman doesn’t stutter nor does he hesitate as he, in only the way he can do, puts Botox Beth in her place. “You keep trying to shove those fake ass tits of yours in my face, acting like I actually give a fuck about them or you.” Her eyes widening in horror and instant shame only further encourage his abrasive scolding. “The only woman I have interest in and care about is my wife whose body doesn’t look like a failed science experiment from a piss poor plastic surgeon.” A beat. “And unlike your stiff ass shit, both her breast and ass move like water when I’m fucking her, something I do a lot, hence our kids you were asking about.” There’s never been a more mortified expression than the one from the woman beside him. “So fuck off, lady.”

And without a single word of protest, argument, agreement, whatever, she turns on her heel, tail in between her legs and does just that.

She fucks off.

Onto the next house, Roman has to stop himself from chiding Aria from her singing. Something she tends to do a lot of, regardless of where they are. The car, the bathtub, school, in the middle of a movie. If she’s not singing, she’s talking.

He still doesn't know just how in the hell he and Solana made such a talkative ass child when neither of them are remotely close to that.

Roman also notices how Leya, something she’s done all night, continues to try to separate her candies within her pumpkin basket. A bit of a losing task given the amount of candy and the shape of the basket, but he leaves her be, already knowing it’s part of her OCD. One of the symptoms that doesn’t cause any harm, thus not needing a comment or correction.

A yawn from Aria, however, most definitely snags his attention. In the best sort of way. She’s getting tired, thus an out that will allow him to escape this hell of a night.

“Alright, ya’ll, not much longer. It’s getting late.” Not a lie, either. Any other time, Roman would be helping his wife get the kids ready for bed, another sort of madness, but one that doesn’t involve so many damn people, thus a preferred sort of chaos.

As they walk up the steps of the next house, Roman eases right back into his routine of watching them while also being mindful of surroundings. Except, there’s an almost familiar voice that disturbs this routine.

“John!” He drags his focus over to the elderly couple sitting in matching rocking chairs on the porch. “Look! It’s that nice single father and his kids that we met at Target a few weeks ago!”

Roman shuts his eyes.

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

Of all the fucking houses, they just had to go to this one.

The wife stands from the chair, leaned over, gaze traveling over his four children. “Would you look at all of you? Just precious little angels.”

And playing up the role of angelic children, Tama and Lina lift their baskets with plastered on big smiles. “Trick or treat!”

The old man shakes his head, a genuine grin on his aged face. “Aren’t you all well-mannered?”

Yeah, for everyone except me.

Roman pushes past his discomfort to move a bit closer to the porch, unsure why he feels the need to clarify and set the record straight for perfect strangers.

“Look, I told you both before, I’m not a single father.” Just saying it aloud sounds weird. There is not him and their kids without Solana. “Their mom is home. She’s just sick.”

A horrified gasp from the old lady who looks like she’s a couple more months away from the grave. “Addiction?” Roman’s eyes widen slightly. What the fuck? She shakes her head, hand over her heart. “It’s ruining so many families.”

John, the old man, continues with unnecessary sadness as his wife starts to fill the kids’ baskets. “To think, she found her way back home only to still be struggling with that terrible disease.”

“She’s not—” Pinching the bridge of his nose, trying his best not to snap or commit murder, Roman tries a different route. “Lina. Tama. Would you please tell these people about your mom?”

Of the four of his present kids, they’d 100% be the ones to clear shit up. Aria is too young, and Leya far too shy. And one thing about Lina and Tama, like their baby sister, but unlike Leya, talking is never an issue.

Except Roman forgot how clever his two older kids are, how these two just live to stress him the fuck out, because of course, he’s met with nothing but performative sighs, frowns, and heads bowing.

“Our mommy is sick,” Lina says in the saddest yet fake ass voice he’s ever heard from his eight-year-old.

And naturally, her partner in crime backs her up, offering an equally sad. “We hope she feels better soon.”

But, while Roman is contemplating leaving their asses with these misinformed old people, the couple in question are just shattered.

“She absolutely will, you sweet babies.” Betty White’s big sister wags her aged finger. “We’ll be sure to lift her up in prayer at church Sunday.” Clearly moved and touched by their story, she motions to the basket. “You all take as much candy as you want, okay?” All the words needed to be heard as three of the four kids go to grabbing and stuffing, Leya the only one content with what’s already been retrieved.

Roman looks away, biting back the lecture he wants to give his lying ass children. At least until they’re away from the house, the couple saying something about praying fervently.

“Why the hell would ya’ll tell them people that?”

Snickering from the mischievous duo, Lina being the one to smartly point out, “we didn’t lie, daddy. Mommy is sick.”

Roman is convinced at this point these children will be the death of him one day, and his smart ass eight year-old daughter and her equally mischievous little brother are at the top of the suspect list.

Roman stands with his hands on his hips. “Yeah, but she’s not a damn drug addict.”

“What’s a drug addict?” Tama questions, counting all his full size candy bars.

Samaria yawns, asking with a mixture of curiosity and tiredness, “is that what mommy is?”

“No, Aria, that’s not what—” Once more, Roman has to stop himself. His blood pressure has to be through the damn roof at this point. “You know what, it’s time to go home.”

Some protest, not as much as there could be, mostly because he knows even the kids have to recognize the weight of their almost overflowing buckets is just another sign that it’s indeed time to call it a night.

Leya simply nods in agreement, while Aria reaches her bucket to him, soon lifting her arms, indicating that she wants to be held.

“But, we didn’t hit all the houses!” Is Lina’s final attempt to bargain.

“I’ll buy you all some more candy tomorrow,” Roman mutters, feeling Aria lay her head on his shoulder as he supports her little body with one arm, his other hand holding her bucket of candy.

Naturally, Roman’s hustler of a son can’t accept this deal without first negotiating. “Full size?”

This boy….

“Yes,” he agrees, seeing Tama and Lina high five. “Now, come on.”

With the promise of more candy none of them really need given how much they obtained tonight, the kids follow him back to the vehicle. Conversations among them as he works to get them all seated and buckled. Aria, even though clearly sleepy, continuing to sing, though lightly.

What she’s singing a mystery. He swears she just be making shit up sometimes.

There’s a request to stop for pizza that Roman shoots down immediately, because it’s almost 9pm, and the last thing any of these kids need is some damn pizza.

He’ll get it for them tomorrow.

“Keep your voices down. Your brothers are probably sleep,” Roman advises once they return home, and he’s working to get them out the car. Last he heard from Solana, his babies were sleep, and given Koa and Kai tend to be a bit sensitive to noise, the last thing he wants is to wake them up. Even more, like himself, they’re irritable as hell when prematurely awoken.

The kids technically listen to his directive, their voices low, but the stomps of their feet as they rush up the stairs is anything but.

However, he decides to pick his battles wisely, not correcting them, already knowing why they’re in such a rush.

Roman quietly follows behind as the kids all run towards his bedroom, Lina being the one to open the door, spilling in with heightened enthusiasm.

“Mommy!”

Walking into the room, Roman watches the kids surround the bed where a clearly sleepy Solana sits up with a warm smile.

She’s still in the thin sleeved, baby pink pajama gown he left her in. Hair concealed by her black bonnet, wiping at her slightly puffy eyes, the crinkle of her nose a sign of sniffling buried under the excited voices of the kids.

“My babies,” she greets, reaching for them as they create a sort of circle around her, Aria climbing onto the bed to hug Solana who makes a sound, eyes briefly shutting. “I missed you guys.”

“We missed you, too, mommy,” Leya murmurs, some of the few words he’s heard from her all night. It pulls a small smile to his face. The older she gets, the more he’s noticed she’s starting to talk. Something he appreciates more than anything. Because as much as he enjoys the silence, the sound of his little girl’s voice, so soft and sweet, will always be the exception.

“We got you lots of candy,” Tama shares, little hands dipping in his bucket to pull out a Hershey’s Almond Chocolate bar, offering said candy. “Your favorite!”

Solana’s smile deepens, “thank you, babies.” A small set of coughs as Roman briefly considers telling the kids they shouldn’t be that close to her but deciding against it, as he already knows they won’t care nor would they probably listen. Not to mention that nine times out of ten, a cold is probably in their near future. With so many young kids, it’s not uncommon for sickness to get passed around like hot potato. “You’re all so sweet.”

Aria, sitting on the bed with her legs crossed, reaches her little hand into her bucket of candy, pulling out a Snickers bar. “We got candy for you, too, daddy!”

It’s then that the rest of the kids all pull out several Snickers bars making him aware that they all seemed to have made sure to collect their parents favorite candies.

A small chuckle, the Tribal Chief realizing that’s why they were so intent on collecting as much candy as they could. To make sure they got enough for himself and Solana, too.

Huh.

“You all were good for your daddy, right?” Solana’s question is met with interrupted eye contact and only Leya answering, nodding her head.

“They were…..the usual,” Roman answers, his wife meeting his eyes, her smile shifting to something close to a smirk. She already knows what that means.

“Hmm.” Solana makes a sound, reaching to caress Lina’s hair as she rips off her wig. “Baby….why do you have that bat?”

It’s only then that Roman clears his throat, feeling his wife’s didn’t we talk about not letting her take that with her stare on him as he redirects the kids. “Ya’ll go downstairs and start dividing your candy, while I get your baths ready.”

Something he’s not necessarily looking forward to, given how chaotic that can be. His hope though is that they’ll be too tired out to give him a hard time.

Hopefully.

Hugs and kisses from Solana, something they refuse to depart without, before Roman is left alone with his wife.

He sits on the side of her bed, hand reaching to her forehead. “How you feeling?”

She shrugs, hand reaching to grab his as he drops it, pleased to see that she at least no longer has a fever. “Medicine is helping, but the boys are doing better, so that’s all that matters.” A knowing smile, followed by an almost amused, “you know they’re all going to get sick, right?”

Roman chuckles. “Yeah…but we’re not there yet, so let’s enjoy it now.” He looks around the room, realizing Dulce’s bed is empty. “Where is she?”

“Sleeping in the living room. Well….she was.” Because they both know that with the kids no doubt surrounding the dining room table, trading and sectioning off candy, Dulce is either lounging in her bed, wondering why the kids are so damn loud or sitting near Leya, waiting to see if someone will give her some food.

There’s no in-between.

“You want me to help you get them down?”

“Naw.” Roman shakes his head, stroking her cheek, leaning over to kiss her forehead. “I just want you to rest.”

Solana rolls her pretty eyes. “Have you met our children?”

“Yes, unfortunately.”

“Roman,” she chides, lightly slapping him on the chest. “Be serious….” Her smile dims, replaced with a hint of a frown. “How bad did they stress you out?”

It’s an easy answer. “Baby, you better not ask me to give you no more damn kids.” Her smile returns, Solana clearly amused at his misery. “That shit was fucking terrible. All them children that aren’t ours, annoying ass people—”

“Ro, you act like we don’t take them every year.”

“Yeah, but I usually have you with me.”

Solana rolls her eyes, rolling her thumb over his knuckles. “I told you to take someone with you to help you out.”

“I didn’t need help. I just needed you.”

There’s something about that that statement that makes her heart flutter. “Well….” She brings his hand to her mouth, pressing a kiss. “God willing, I’ll be able to go with you all next year. Koa and Kai, too.”

At that, Roman’s eyes widen. “You wanna take all six of them trick or treating?”

Solana pouts. “We can’t leave our baby boys out.”

“I’ll stay home with them,” he offers, quickly. Solana rolls her eyes. “Baby, you know they’re like me and don’t like people anyway.”

Solana doesn’t say anything, cause she knows he’s not wrong. Even as toddlers, when they were still babies even, it became pretty obvious they took after his disposition when it comes to socialization.

They hate it.

They love being held by their parents, tolerate interactions with their siblings, and scowl with almost anyone else.

It’s mostly why the short-lived idea of having someone stay with them, before Solana got sick, while she and Roman took the kids out, was shelved. Because Koa and Kai don’t necessarily play well with others.

At all.

Solana leans back in bed after another brief coughing session. “You should start getting them ready for bed. They shouldn’t give you much trouble, since I’m sure they’re tired from tonight.”

“Shit, if they’re not. I am.” Roman mutters, standing up and blowing out a breath. “I’ll come check on you once they’re all in the tub.”

Solana nods, saying nothing, allowing Roman to move onto his next task for the night.

Thankfully, his wife, though he shouldn’t be entirely surprised, is correct. As Aria is clearly more tired than her siblings, along with her being the only one of them that still needs a parent to handle her bath time, he gets her cleaned and in bed first. She’s almost out the minute her head hits the pillow, only wanting a kiss and hug goodnight from him before she’s off in slumber land.

The OG’s grab their own pajamas and bath caddy, simply needing Roman to run the water for them, before they’re good to go. It started out with just Lina and Leya transitioning to bathing themselves, but Tama, naturally, didn’t like his big sisters doing something he couldn’t. So, before Roman and Solana knew it, he was asking to bathe himself, too.

If only his was a little….smoother than his sister’s.

Solana, feeling wrong letting Roman handle everything by himself, has just finished checking on her youngest babies, pleased to see them fast asleep. This is only after, however, going downstairs and hiding the candy that the kids separated, trying to make things a little easier on her husband.

She’s in the boy’s wing of the house, turning the corner just in time to see Roman’s head in the door of Tama’s bathroom.

“Boy, why is the water on?” She bites down on her bottom lip, imagining her oldest son explaining himself. “It’s cold? Well, if you hadn’t spent 20 minutes playing with all those damn toys, it wouldn’t be cold anymore.” A giggle topples out at the sound of Tama defending himself, Roman interrupting, “fine, keep it on, but I’m telling you right now, Tamasa, if you flood my damn bathroom again, you’re staying up and helping me get all that water up. And, I’m not letting you use a mop to clean it, either.”

Solana shakes her head, a giggle upgrading into light laughter. The interactions between Roman and the kids, especially him and Tama, will never fail to be hilarious.

Something tells her of all the children, even Lina, Tamasa will be the one to stress Roman out the most.

“Baby, what are you doing up?”

She brings her focus back to Roman who walks up to her, hands on her hips as he tugs her into him.

“Just trying to help you out.”

He shakes his head, frowning, “I got it—”

“You sure?” Her brow lifts, chin jutted to the bathroom. “Seems a little….tense.”

Roman scowls. “You know how that boy is. Just stubborn for no fucking reason.”

Solana makes a sound. “Wonder where he gets that from.”

“Your side of the family, clearly.”

She opens her mouth, ready to point out the ridiculousness of such a statement given who he is, but Solana opts against it. He’s already had a long ass night.

No need to make him aware of the fact that Tama, and Lina for that matter, are nothing but mini versions of himself.

Determined, headstrong, and stubborn.

How he doesn’t see and/or recognize that is beyond her, but that’s a conversation for a different day.

She sniffles, Roman’s big hands on the small of her back, his mouth pressed into the top of her head. “Go get back in bed….please?”

Agreement that only stems from the fact that she knows he can handle the rest of bedtime shenanigans as well as the fact it probably stresses him out even more to know she’s walking around instead of laid up in bed somewhere.

“Okay,” she agrees. Roman moves his hand to tap the side of her ass, mumbling a quiet, “thank you.” She presses her lips together, murmuring, “I love you.”

An easy reciprocated thing. “I love you too, baby.”

Solana’s smile remains on her face, a strong sense of appreciation and happiness filling and overwhelming her. She loves her family more than anything.

But, the smile is soon interrupted, dimmed at the sound of Roman’s voice that travels from the wing of the house that she was standing in not even minutes earlier.

“Tamasa! Didn’t I tell you not to flood my damn bathroom?”

[cheeseceli]

Their celebrity crush

Pairing: ot7!BTS × gn!reader

Genre: headcanons, fluff

Request: Could you write one where Ot7 are dating their celebrity crushes?

Warnings: they are idols, mentions of fans and rumours, mentions of Hybe (?), jungkook's reader has been working for longer than him

A/n: I have another version of this, one way more delulu and cringe, but I couldn't find it so here we go | daily click

Jin

I believe he would want to keep the relationship private in most scenarios

That's not one of them though

Everyone and their mothers are going to know about this

First, everybody already knew you were his crush

Bro has no filter

He probably said it with all the words

So once you guys actually date

Man, he's not gonna shut up

Obviously he wouldn't do anything of that if you're not comfortable with it

But in the end he's just a fan

Yoongi

Oh he's so cocky about this

100% bragging about it every time

I don't see him as someone who has a lot of celebrity crushes

You'd be like one of the few

Maybe even the only one

So he only had one chance and STILL managed to date you?

Goat

You're also never knowing that lmao

Yes, he'll brag about dating you but you'll never know he was your biggest fanboy ever

And as he already assumed to write fanfics when younger

Imagine him reading fics about you before dating you 😭

J-hope

I am a firm believer of social butterfly hobi

Meaning he knows everyone

Including you

Even if you are or aren't from the same industry

What matters is that he knows you

And he tries to keep it cool and pretend everything's fine

Because he finally managed to talk to you

He doesn't want to scare you off

But

Rumours go that he is your celebrity crush

Since feelings are mutual

Who is he to lose a chance like this

Right?

Namjoon

Bro really really really is tryna keep it shut

Like he's doing his best to not open Vlive right now and just say

"yo, guess who's dating y/n"

And he's 100% aware that this is a horrible move

But he wants to do it nevertheless

Honestly, at this point he's hoping that you will slip up so he can finally bring it up

But fans already know something is up

I mean

It's kinda hard not to when he is so obviously in love in his songs

And oh, is that a a very clear reference to you in his lyrics?

Jimin

This would definitely start the wrong way lmao

The ever so friendly and flirtatious Park Jimin is going viral for... not liking you

Or at least that's what netizens think

The truth is that Jimin and you get to be special MCs for a program for once

And you see, he's used to being people's crush

Now he is the one having a crush

In order to avoid being obvious about it and making rumours up, he tries to avoid you overall

And now people think he hates you

Let me tell you that he PANICS when he finds this rumour out

So imagine when his apologies to you work and, after a while, you're dating

The shock the internet (and him) would feel

Taehyung

He's literally the opposite of Namjoon

Namjoon is trying his best to not spill the tea

Taehyung is trying to spill it without people noticing

At this point he thinks of it as a game

Let's see how close to insanity he can bring the dispatch staff

Seriously though, he just admires you so much

And he's so proud of you

It's not fair to expect him to not overflow with love

If he sees the green light coming form you, better believe he will make Hybe do some damage control

Jungkook

This one was funny

You were his crush before he was too famous

So he was like

"Imagine if we were famous and I met Y/n?"

A boy can only dream, right?

Except he didn't dream, he manifested

Then one day BTS becomes famous

He becomes famous

And the next thing you know is that Jungkook is finally talking to you

And you better bet that he's shooting his shot when he finally gets to see you

Masterlist | you'll probably like: I'm not letting go

Reminder this is just fiction!! I'm not trying to portray real life and you shouldn't believe that this is how the members actually are. This is just for the vibe and the delulu!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @butnotmontana @sheraayasherrecs @queenofdumbfuckery @lezleeferguson-120

Dividers by @cursed-carmine | images 1, 2 and 3

[bbyhee]

Oh. Oh. You are so SICK AND TWISTED for this (lovingly). I truthfully, avoided reading this because I wanted to binge read it all at once. Call me a liar because I couldn’t wait any longer and read it anyway and let’s say, I’m glad I did cause now I need a cigarette 🚬 (I don’t smoke) to sit and brood in my emotions for the next few days because WHAT THE FUCK. To be honest, I didn’t even read the series summary, just went straight into the chapters so when Jay ended up dying I fucking cried. I sat there, head in my hands, fully betrayed like how dare? (It’s literally written out already dumbass, how dare I act surprised) but yeah.. Y/N better than me because I don’t think I would ever forgive Jake or forgive him enough to go back and care for him along with his daughter (love you Luna but your dad is an asshole)

Also, Heeseung (I want you so bad. Kiss me) WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU A BETRAYER IN THIS?!?!?!?!?!?! All for a bitch named Emily. Now you’ve been mentioned in 2 chapters and my love is gone 💔

I love each character’s personalities (?) (not really, they all got problems) but the way they’re portrayed just makes you feel something 100 times more heavier. The amount of crying Y/N has done is probably enough to fill all the pools in Santorini which means everyone who has done her wrong (Jake) needs to grovel for as much as there are pools in Santorini (idc if she stole your child)

Please let there be happiness now because all this angst is genuinely hurting me. Poor Jay and Y/N’s parents. I could never imagine what it feels like to actually lose a child and then your second one disappears without a trace. Then you have fuck ass David running his mouth like he gets paid to do it and ruining everyone’s day. Helen, Queen, tell your husband that your love language is physical touch and just swing at him one day.

So so so excited for the upcoming chapters, I’m hooked. I’m a fan. Can’t believe the universe put this at my doorstep 🙏🏼 #blessed

Love you, keep writing. I’m gonna read all of it.

THE CERTAIN ROMANCE OF WINGS AND WAR- series masterlist

PAIRING: [DAD!JAKE SIM x FEM!READER]!MAFIA AU

SETTING: Seoul, Korea → Santorini, Greece

TROPES: Mafia au | soulmates au | angel/devil wings au | childhood best friends au | frenemies au | I didn’t know I loved you until I lost you | eloping/running away | family friends au | found family au

TW/N: cheating, blood, drugs, mentions of sex, alcohol, lots of cussing, mentions of murder, guns, therapy, psychological trauma, abandoning children, adoption care, estranged families, physical abuse, anger issues, characters make terrible decisions, some characters have sexual relations but not romantic, mentions of a lot of fucking each other over (betrayal), can't trust anyone.

In a world where people grow wings when they’re in love, all anyone seemed to want is to find their soulmate.

Jake thought he’d found his perfect love. The wings on his back said so. But the woman he trusted disappeared overnight, leaving nothing but betrayal in her wake. For her, love was just a tactic. Business was the only game she played.

Raised by a powerful mafia family, Jake eventually took the reins of the empire when their father stepped down. Sunghoon stood as his right hand, while Jungwon and Niki- inseparable and unflinching- were the muscle that held their world together.

By their side was Y/N and her family- allies bound not just by loyalty, but legacy. Her father had built the syndicate with theirs, and the two families rose together.

Their world seemed untouchable- until it wasn’t.

Jake’s misplaced trust would spark a war no one saw coming. And when it led to the death of Y/N’s brother, Jay, the fallout shattered everything. Love had brought wings. But betrayal would leave scars that followed them for years- across cities, across borders, across time.

Oh… and Jake had a daughter now.

Chapter breakdown

Prologue 0; the beginning of the end

PART ONE; five years later

Chapter 1; prolonged interlude

Chapter 2; a long lost friend

Chapter 3; abominable rendezvous

Chapter 4; to run or not to run

PART TWO; six months later

Chapter 5; abscond

Chapter 6; redamancy

Chapter 7; cheers to a new beginning

Chapter 8; an elaborate ruse

Epilogue 9; the cherry on top

Character breakdown

The first mafia family (the adopted children of David and Helen)

Jake Sim

Park Sunghoon

Yang Jungwon

Niki

The second mafia family (the children of Martin and Nayna)

Y/N

Jay Park

Additional characters

Emily- Jake’s ex

Erwin- Emily’s twin

Heeseung- Y/N’s fwb

Alice- Jungwon’s girlfriend

Chelsea- Jay’s soulmate

Sophie- Niki’s fwb

Natalie- Sunghoon’s estranged sister

Athera- Jungwon’s 2nd love interest

Sunoo- Y/N’s coworker

[boybandbaby]

Want Me Back Part II

ex-husband/dad!Eddie Munson x ex-wife/mom!reader

word count: 3960

Part 1: this post

warnings/tags: kids plotting to get parents back together, suggestive comments (mentions of boners, ejaculation, masturbation, sex), mentions of virginity/being a virgin and teens making out, lots of arm squeezing (probably too much touching for a divorced couple), divorce talk, single parenting, panic attacks, kids, kids tantrums

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

You wanted to say you were dreading today but how could you? You were spending the day with your eldest and you’d be seeing the man you were still in love with.

You had to bring out the big guns today though. Wear his favorite scent or those pair of bottoms that always made him grip your thighs in impatience to get home and take them off you. It was silly, you know but this is the first time since the divorce that you’d be spending more than the 10 minutes together.

“Mom, are you ready?” Stevie sighs, loudly.

“Yeah, you got my phone right?” You shove your keys and several other items into your bag.

“Yes, mom. Can we please go? Dad is already waiting outside.”

Oh yeah, and Eddie was picking you all up. You won’t have an escape plan if this goes horribly. Not only that, Lennox and Jett were being dropped off at Steve’s so you wouldn’t have two extra buffers in case things got awkward.

After a quick drop off, Eddie continues driving, yapping away with Stevie in the back seat. You stare at his hands on the steering wheel. He was just as nervous as you, that much you can tell by his grip on the steering wheel and his bouncing left knee. He’d also shaved since you last saw him and his hair was shinier.

“Okay, so we just have to buy a few more decorations and my outfit for the party.” Stevie recalls, going through her list of needed items. “Can we eat after?”

“Yeah, you pick though.” Eddie smiles at her through the mirror. He can already tell what she’s doing, extending their time together. He’s thankful, knows the kids want you back together just as much as he does. He’s just not sure it’s something you want ever again. He can only hope.

“Well, why don’t we go to Sal’s?” She shrugs, eyes on her phone. You turn back in your seat.

“You hate Sal’s.” You squint your eyes. “Their sauce is too saucy, remember?”

“Yeah, but dad loves it and he’s paying.” She smiles. She also knows this is one of the first places that you and Eddie went to when you started dating. It is also where all three kids had a birthday party or two over the years.

“I don’t want to hear you complaining then.” You turn back in your seat, looking at Eddie.

“Remember when we got that white sauce pizza and it turned out to be a garlic sauce not Alfredo? You were so pissed.” Eddie laughs.

“I mean, who the hell advertises white sauce and it not be Alfredo?” You groan. “My breath smelled like garlic all night. Kept you away like a vampire.” You lean your head back, letting it loll to the left to watch him.

“That wasn’t why I kept my distance that night.” He mumbles, “you gave me a,” he looks in the mirror, sees Stevie with her headphones in, “gave me a boner before the pizza arrived. I didn’t want to scare you away.”

“Is that why you kept going to the bathroom? Had to whack one out while I ate that horrible pizza?”

“I wasn’t whacking anything out! I was freaking out on the phone with Steve.” He breathes out in exasperation. “Was afraid I was going to give you a different kind of white sauce if I sat in front of you any longer.”

“Ew! Eddie!” You pinch the little sliver of skin under his armpit, peeking through his muscle tee, just under his outstretched arm.

“What? I couldn’t help it. I was just a helpless virgin boy on a date with the prettiest girl in Hawkins.”

“Oh stop.” You hold onto the door with one hand and your hot neck with the other.

“Can you guys keep the flirting to a minimum until after I find my outfit?” Stevie teases, headphones on her lap and amused look on her face. Eddie’s face turns beet red as he pulls into the mall parking lot.

The day goes by with some light teasing and a lot of spending. As you enter Sal’s, you see Sal Jr., the new owner when his dad Sal Sr. passed a few years ago. He’s about a decade older than you but his brain is still sharp and his mouth still quick. That and he doesn’t know about the divorce.

“Well well well, it’s the Munson’s.” He opens his arms, welcoming you three to a table. “Glad to see the little lovebirds still enjoying our establishment. Did you know I caught your parents once making out behind our dumpsters?”

“Thank you for that, Sal.” Eddie grimaces, taking the menu from his hands with a little force. “We’ll let you know when we’re ready.”

Sal lifts his hands and steps back.

Eddie buries his head in his menu, quiet as ever. Stevie looks to you, eyes wide. You nod your head to the small arcade set up in the restaurant and hand her some bills. Eddie’s head doesn’t lift even when Stevie’s chair scrapes the floor.

“Hey.” You nudge his shin with the tip of your shoe. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing just hungry.” He speaks into the plastic of the menu.

“Maybe we should go somewhere else.” You reach a hand to bring down the menu. “We can go.”

“No, no. I’m fine.” He clears his throat. “I’m fine.”

“Eddie…”

“I’m okay, really.” He nods, eyes avoiding you at all costs.

You let go of the menu and instead place your hand on his forearm. “Let’s split a large? Half veggie, half all meat?” He doesn’t hide the tear that slips down his cheek and you don’t hide the pang of concern on your face. “I’ll pay for breadsticks?” You sing.

“Make it mozzarella sticks and we have a deal.”

“Good.” You smile, giving his forearm another squeeze before calling Sal over.

~

“Okay, so you’re going to beg mom and dad to sit together at your show.” Stevie whispers as she sits on Lennox’s bed.

“But won’t that make them sad? I don’t want them to be sad at my show.” He hugs his stuffed koala, one he’s had since he was a baby.

“No, they’ll be so excited and happy to see you on stage, they won’t have room to be sad.”

“Are you sure, Stevie?” Lenny’s voice shakes with uncertainty. Of course he wants his parents back together but he also doesn’t want to cause any problems. He’s only 12 but he’s already to most considerate kid you know. He thinks about others, always. Puts others’ needs and wants before his own. He also always goes along with what his older sister says, absolutely idolizes her.

“Of course I’m sure. The more time they spend together, the more likely they are to get back together.” She assures, lying back in his bed and opening his science textbook.

“Do you think they’ll really get back together?” He grabs the book from her, smoothing out the pages.

Stevie thinks for a moment, wondering if she should really be getting not only her hopes up but Lenny’s. “You should’ve seen them the other day, Lenny. They were laughing and smiling together. It was actually pretty cute.”

“Please don’t call our parents cute. That’s gross”.

It really didn’t take much begging from Lennox to get you two to sit together. You’d bought 4 tickets and waited outside for your girls and Eddie to appear.

“Sorry. We’re late I know. Where’s Lenny?” Eddie checks his jacket pocket for his keys.

“He had to go backstage already. Come on, they’re starting soon.” You kiss Stevie’s cheek, complimenting her dress.

The auditorium roars with family members anticipating the appearance of their kids, chatter about which role their kid is playing and how good they are and how hard they practiced. You don’t doubt them as Lenny had been stressing all week leading up to the play, even making Eddie learn the moves with him.

You lead the way and shuffle past a family into your seats. Stevie ushers Eddie into the aisle before her. Eddie carries Jett and sets her between both of you in the ratty chair.

“I wanna sit with Stevie.” She tells Eddie. Eddie stands and gently pushes Stevie to switch seats with him.

“Sorry dad, this is a better view to record Lenny. Sit next to mom.” She puts up no room for a fight, helping Jett into the chair next to her. Eddie sighs, knowing his eldest and her play book too well at this point.

“What? Do I smell? No one wants to sit next to me?” You nudge Eddie.

“You smell amazing.” He reassures. “Our children are just being difficult.”

“Just like their dad.” You raise your brows. Before Eddie can quip back, the lights dim and a voice overheard asks the crowd to silence their phones and reminds of no flash photography.

As soon as Lennox steps on stage, too big costume hanging off of his body, you and Eddie sit up straight. You don’t even realize it but you grab his hand, pulling you both a bit closer together. You’re in the second row from the stage, behind possibly the tallest, most big headed people ever (you’re definitely exaggerating), so you’re both centimeters apart as you peers through the gap between two people in front of you. As Lennox and his cast mates get into position, his eyes scan the crowd for his family.

When he spots you two, you wave and Eddie gives him a thumbs up. Lennox grins and taps his feet on the stage in time with the music. You know how hard Lennox had been practicing his dance moves, sometimes a little clumsy like his dad. As each child comes forward for their little tap solo, you hold onto Eddie’s forearm and hold your breath.

Eddie looks down at your hands on his arm. He regrets wearing his signature leather jacket, a barrier between your fingers and his skin. “Eddie.” You whisper, squeezing his arm twice, bringing his attention back to the stage.

Lennox moves with a stumble, feet tapping the floor as he wobbles to keep his balance. His eyes are on his feet, even though he knows he’s supposed to be looking into the crowd.

When he’s done, Eddie cheers, receiving dirty looks and shushes as the next kid goes on. You pull him down further into the seat, laughing as you do so, more to save Lenny from embarrassment than anything else.

The cast all dances and sings before exiting the stage. Lenny has a few more lines and numbers throughout the musical, each time making both of you proud.

You spend the entire night glued to each other as you watch your boy display his talent. The night ends with all five of you going to dinner then sharing a large banana split while you fawn over Lenny.

The kids beg for Eddie to stay the night and it’s not much for either of you to agree. Eddie still has things at the house, never fully moved out in hopes he’ll be able to come back one day.

You’d never made him take his things or gotten rid of them, savoring what’s left of his scent in his absence.

Eddie thanks you as you hand him a pair of pajama pants, both of you equally unsure of where he should sleep.

“Dad, Jett agreed to sleep with Stevie so you can bunk with me.” Lennox smiles wide, “maybe we can finish the pirate book tonight?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right there kid. Warm up the bed for me.” Lenny nods and you know he’ll take Eddie’s request as serious as can be. “Thank you, y/n.” Eddie crosses his legs at the ankles, swaying slightly.

“You’re welcome.”

“Maybe we should talk about-“

“You should go. To bed, I mean. Don’t want to keep our boy waiting.” You clear your throat, “goodnight.”

Eddie purses his lips, nods and turns, leaving the room you once shared together. He wishes he could snuggle up to you instead but knows he lost that privilege a long time ago.

He knocks on Stevie’s door, opening to find both girls wide awake despite the late hour. Stevie is painting Jett’s nails in neon green and smiley faces.

“Goodnight girlies.” He leans down to kiss Stevie’s forehead, then Jett’s. She lunges up and forward, throwing her arms around Eddie’s neck. She’s happy to have him back in the house even if she doesn’t realize it’s only for the night.

Stevie groans and pulls her back, her nail polish smudged and speckled in Eddie’s long hair.

“I love you.” He laughs, the hair and polish the least of his current worries.

“We love you dad.” Stevie speaks for the two girls.

“You two should go to bed soon.” Eddie suggests. “Maybe sleep with mom so she’s not the only one alone tonight.”

“Okay, dad.” Stevie nods. Eddie waves one more time before heading to the bathroom to change.

You listen as he moves about the house like a ghost. You remind yourself that he’s only here for the night as you lay in bed alone. There’s a quiet him of noise: giggles from the girls, a door creaking open and cheers from Lennox as his dad squeaks into Jett’s small twin sized bed. You’re used to feeling alone, especially when the kids stay with Eddie, but tonight you think you’re okay. It feels nice to have Eddie back in the house, even if he’s not with you.

~

Lately, things have been a bit rough for you. When the separation happened, it didn’t feel like much of a change for you emotionally or even physically as Eddie had been distant long before that. Now that you’d spent more time with Eddie, you began missing him like crazy.

Ever since he’d slept over a few nights ago, Jett would be defiant about eating her dinner, bathing and brushing before bed, and going to sleep.

You’d have to call Eddie and vice versa when she was at his, in order for her to calm down which brings you to the present.

“Hey, so Jett is throwing a bit of a tantrum right now because you’re not coming to her open house thingy. I told her you were working late and might not make it and she’s really upset.” You sniffle. You had to put aside your own inner turmoil to deal with Jett’s new behavior. Everything felt like all too much.

“Baby, take a breath.” Eddie lets slip. “Let me talk to her.” Eddie slips the phone between his ear and shoulder as he finishes up another quote for a pair of new brakes. “Hey babe, why are you giving your mama a hard time? We talked about this, right? I won’t be able to go to your school tonight but we’re going to go out to eat after, remember?” His voice is calm, gentle even. Although he’s worried, he doesn’t let it cloud his voice.

“But it’s not the same. I want you here with us. I want you to come over for dinner.”

“I know bub but I have to work.” He winces at her loud sob. He can hear the tears in your own voice as you attempt to shush her. He’s sure you’re rubbing her back. The same way you have a technique to calm every other Munson down, even Wayne. You kiss Eddie, or squeeze his arms, scratch Stevie’s scalp with your fingertips, sing to Lenny, and give Wayne a cold beer. The way Eddie calms you down is with a tight hug. He wishes he could give you know now.

“It’s not fair. I want it to be like Lenny’s show.” She slams the phone onto the table. Eddie pulls the phone from his ear, shutting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. He takes a deep breath, reminding himself that getting angry at his child is not going to de-escalate the situation and he is not his father.

“Eddie. Eddie. Eddie. Eddie!”

“Oh shit, sorry.” He brings the phone back to his ear.

“I’ll figure something out. See if Robin can come with me. I’ll let you know how it goes.” You frantically rush out, hanging up before he can offer any more words. This exact situation is a reminder of one of the reasons for the divorce: Eddie working more than being present. It started with missing dinners then anniversaries until you finally drew the line at your last forgotten birthday.

You stand alone in the classroom, listening as the teacher explains some of the projects the kids have been working on this year. You’re tapping your foot, watching Jett as she hiccups. Her face is blotchy with half dried tears during the car ride over, and her hair is an absolute mess.

Some of the parents look at you sympathetically and your overthinking mind wonders if they know you’re a single parent now. You know it’s probably just because they’ve also experienced an unruly child in public.

You bite your lip so hard you break skin. At the taste of blood, you hiss and clench your fists.

“Hey,” Eddie gently rests his hand on your lower back to get your attention.Something he used to do all the time to stay tethered to you during social events. His hand slides off your back and wraps around your fist. He wiggles his finger into it and unclenches your hand.

“Daddy, you made it!” Jett waves as she sits with some of her classmates at their desks. She’s taken Eddie’s skin color, almost the exact same shade, even when he’s upset. She’s red but the crying has stopped.

“I’m sorry I’m late and I’m sorry I couldn’t change out of my work uniform.” He whispers, wishing he looked as good as he did in the black button up Stevie made him wear to Lenny’s show.

“I can’t believe you made it.” You turn into him. Your lip wobbles as you let go of any boundaries, wrapping your arms around his waist. Eddie immediately wraps his arms around your shoulders. He’s rests his head a top yours, breathing in your scent.

“Let’s take a walk, yeah?” He whispers. “Hey Betty, can you keep an eye on Jett? We’re stepping into the hall for a moment.” Eddie asks Bobbi’s grandma. She is probably the only one in this room that knows about the divorce (Jett let it slip to her best friend, Bobbi during a sleepover.) Betty nods sweetly and gives him a smile.

You both step into the hallway, keeping Jett visible through the window in the door.

You hear your name being called and before you register, there’s several steps of squeaky rubber on the tile floor.

Eddie tenses when he sees the 6 foot, built body, gym bro place a hand on your upper left shoulder.

You tense and jump, “Freddy?” You wipe your eyes, wishing the floor would swallow you whole.

“I didn’t know your kids went to this school.” The man lets his hand slide down to gently hold onto your bicep. He would’ve known had he listened to a word Nancy said when she introduced the two of you.

You immediately turn, discreetly pulling your arm out of his grasp to introduce Eddie. “This is Eddie, the father of my kids.” He’s so glad you didn’t say ex-husband right then and there. It would’ve been a bigger blow than seeing some guy come up to you.

He knows you’re beautiful, come on, he was married to you. But seeing another man show interest with you while he’s trying to win you back, makes his blood boil.

“Oh, hey.” He chucks his chin towards Eddie, barely an acknowledgement. “It’s such a surprise to see you. I hope you’re available for that date soon.” He winks before who you presume is his son, tugs on his pant leg. “I’ll hopefully see you soon. Bye y/n.” He enters a class adjacent to Jett’s.

“You’re seeing someone?” Eddie immediately inquires when the man is out of earshot.

“Nancy introduced me to him last week while we were out for drinks. He’s a coworker of hers.” You clarify.

“So you’re dating already?” He sasses, arms crossing over his chest.

“No, Nancy is trying to set us up. I hardly know him.” You wave your hand to brush him off, planning to escape back into the classroom.

“Are you interested?” Eddie follows, firmly but not harshly, grabbing your shoulder.

“Eddie, can we drop this conversation for now? It’s not the right place.”

“Are you? It’s a simple question. Are you or are you not interested in seeing someone else? Seeing him?” He nearly gags. Practically spits the pronoun out. “The divorce hasn’t even been finalized for a year and you’re already dating?”

“No!” Your voice echoes against the hallow floors and walls of the hallway. “I’m not seeing him and I’m not interested! There, you happy?” Eddie takes a step back. “Don’t act like you’re interested in me now, Eddie.” You place a hand on the door handle.

“Hey, you can’t just bark out some petty comment and walk away. We need to talk about this.”

“I don’t want to do this.” The tears are already coming back. “Not right now and not here.”

“Fine, walk away like you did the first time.” He throws his hands up, scoffing.

“It’s okay for you to make a petty comment but not me? That’s not fair. I asked you for months to do better. I asked you-“

“I know, I know. You’re right.” He chokes out. “I’m sorry. I’m just hurt. Jealous. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to live your life and date whoever you want. I know. I’m sorry. I just didn’t think you would move on so quickly, ya know?” He looks to the ceiling, hands on his hips, spewing his emotions. “I thought I had more time.”

You take a step back, opening your mouth to respond. You lose the words, closing it quickly. Eddie is telling you how he feels, telling you the honest truth, communicating.

The communication between you had gone extinct months before the separation. In turn was a lot of fighting, whispered shouting before turning away from each other in bed and leaving in the morning without a goodbye.

“What do you mean you thought you had more time? Time for us?” You tug at his navy blue uniform. A long sleeve one piece, the top buttons of his coveralls open, exposing the bony collarbones painted with faded tattoos.

“Yes, I thought I was making progress. M-making my way back into your life.” He stutters, chest heaving. He feels his world closing in on him and you sense the oncoming panic attack.

“Eddie, we have all the time in the world.” You urge him to look at you, hand on his chin. He fights you though, trying to keep his head turned so you don’t see him. See his weaknesses and fears. “Listen to me, I don’t want anyone else. I still want you.” You do the only thing on your mind. The only thing you can think of to calm him, and truly the only thing you’ve been wanting to do since he’s crept back into your heart. The thing that has worked on him for so many years. You kiss him. Pulling him in by his open top, lips sloppily misplaced and wet with tears. You’re not sure if they’re yours or his or both.

It doesn’t seem to matter when the door clicks open faster than you can break apart. You’re too late. “Yay! Our plan worked!”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

[infinitydivine]

Their late-night thoughts about you: Pick a Pile Reading

✨If this reading resonates with you, kindly share it to help your reader :)

✨The extended reading can be found on my Patreon and is also available for sale as a post without becoming a member :)

Masterlist -Paid Readings-Paid Readings Reviews-PAC Readings-My Patreon

Choose your pile intuitively. Take what resonates and leave the other things. If you think this reading is not for you then choose another pile. If still it doesn't resonate then this might not be your reading. There are Three Piles.

Hello Pile 1~~~

It always happens when the world starts to slow down. The lights are off, the phone’s on charge, and they’re finally lying still like no distractions, no noise. That’s when their mind wanders. And, somehow, without fail, it ends up back on you.

It’s not dramatic and also it’s not some grand emotional breakdown every night. But it’s there...quietly and constantly. You my loves show up in the smallest of moments...as a memory or as a glance. A feeling they can’t quite name. And sometimes they just lie there thinking, “Why do I keep thinking about them?”

Honestly, they don’t really get it either. Maybe they’ve tried to distract themselves, dive into work, scroll endlessly or mindlessly, talk to friends, or convince themselves they’ve “moved on.” But the truth is, your presence or your energy stays like a song they can’t get out of their head. Not because of something specific you did, but because of how you made them feel. And that part? It’s not easy to ignore my loves.

Read the extended post here.

If you liked the reading, book a personal reading with me or you could leave a tip for the reader.

Hello Pile 2~~~

My loves of pile 2- There’s something about you they can’t shake, even now. Even when they tell themselves to move forwar and if they pretend it didn’t mean that much. But it did And it still does.

At night, when everything quiets down and they finally put their phone down or stop pretending to be busy, you come back. And not just like a thought. You come back like a feeling. Like a wave that keeps returning to the shore, no matter how far the tide goes out.

They don’t just think of what happened between you two. They think of what could’ve been. They imagine alternate timelines. Versions of the story where you both had better timing, more clarity, or just a little more courage. It hurts sometimes the way life didn’t exactly cooperate. It’s not about blame. It’s about longing. That feeling of knowing something real touched your life and wondering if it was supposed to stay longer than it did. Read the extended post here.

If you liked the reading, book a personal reading with me or you could leave a tip for the reader.

Hello Pile 3

Okay, so first thing, your pile is the only pile that has any channelled song...and that for you guys is Glimpse of Us by Joji.

My loves of Pile 3~~~Some people hit you like a wave, all at once. But you? You make your way in gently, quietly. And now, when the world slows down and everything is still, you’re the one they find themselves thinking about.

It’s strange because they didn’t expect to care this much. In fact, they probably told themselves it wasn’t that deep maybe even convinced others it wasn’t serious. But now, when the lights are off and they’re left alone with their thoughts, your name is the one first things that come to their mind and that too quite a lot actually.

They’re not the type to show much, Maybe they’re emotionally reserved, or maybe they didn’t even realize what they were feeling at the time. But there’s something about late nights that strips away all that armour. It’s when truth bubbles up. And lately? The truth is... they miss you. Read the extended post here.

If you liked the reading, book a personal reading with me or you could leave a tip for the reader.

Thank you and Love,

Infinity

[amoebadue]

A MISSED ENGAGEMENT PART 2

NOT PROOFREAD!!!

A/N: This is part two…make sure you read part one first!! Hope you guys like it!

Contains: arguments, Roy giving bad advice, mentions of baby trapping, mentions of cheating, Roy has bad good timing

PART 1

It’s been two weeks since Jason had missed your anniversary. It’s also been two weeks since things haven’t felt a bit awkward between you and him.

Maybe it was your fault—despite understanding his need to protect the city, you couldn’t help but feel upset that he’d missed your anniversary.

He’d gotten locked in that lab but couldn’t he have been more aware of his surroundings? No, that wasn’t fair. He wouldn’t have gotten stuck on purpose…would he?

Before then you would’ve said no, he’d never ditch you on purpose, but ever since that night he’s been…weird.

Whenever you enter a room he jumps, almost surprised your there—that’s new. And he’ll have hushed conversations on the phone and receive text messages at odd times of day and night. Although you don’t see him at night, he’s always gone as soon as dinners over and he doesn’t come home until well past sunrise. And when he does come home, he’s no longer dressed as Red Hood.

He’s hiding something from you.

—

“It just feels like I’m losing her.” Jason sighed, leaning back into the couch with a groan.

“Well, she didn’t leave you after you blew up her favorite coffeeshop, so I think you’ll be okay.”

Jason groaned again, “I had to! It was a front!”

“But they made good coffee.”

“You’re getting off topic.”

“Oh, right. You’re not losing her, she’s probably just busy.”

“Busy? You think she’s been busy for two whole weeks?”

Roy winced, “Yeah, okay maybe she’s not busy. Have you even tried talking to her?”

“What am I supposed to say? Hey, sorry I missed our anniversary. I was going to propose but I can’t now because—”

“Wait, why can’t you propose?” Jason groaned, throwing one of Lian’s dolls at him.

“Because things have been weird! She’s distant and impatient and she’s always asking me questions! Like where have you been, who was that, who are you talking to, who’s texting you—” The two men froze.

“You don’t think she?”

“She can’t. She knows I wouldn’t. Right?”

Roy shrugged, “Sure. Maybe before you started missing dates and having secret phone calls.”

Jason jumped up, “This is so bad, man, what am I gonna do?”

“Flowers, chocolate, fruit basket?” Roy began listing gifts in a panic.

“A fruit basket? There’s no way she’d accept my proposal if I got her a gift basket!”

“I’m panicking, I’m sorry!”

“Flowers, chocolate….shoes?”

“No, you just got her the shoes she wanted for the last gala.”

“Why do you know that?” Jason turned to him accusingly.

It was Roy’s turn to groan now, “It’s not my fault you’re always talking about her!”

“Whatever, maybe I should get her a book?”

“Seven books.”

“Exactly seven? What six books are not enough but eight is too many?”

“I don’t know, man! I’m still panicking!”

“Why are you even panicking? She’s my girlfriend!”

“Yeah, but if you break up then I’m the one that has to deal with your moping.”

“You think there’s a chance she breaks up with me?”

“No! No way. She wouldn’t.” Roy looks around the room, attempting to avoid eye contact with his angry best friend. Jason frowns at him.

“You’re really not making me feel better.”

Roy smiled sheepishly before shrugging. “You could always get her pregnant.”

“You want me to baby trap her, Roy? Baby trap her? Are you kidding me? In what world would that help anything?!”

“It was just an idea!”

“Yeah, because that worked so well for you!”

“Hey! Lian is awesome—you wish you could have a kid as cool as mine. And I did not baby trap her mother, obviously. She was an accident.” Roy laughed as he spoke—apperently finding this conversation hilarious.

“I can’t believe you right now. I’m going home. This is too much.” Jason snatched his jacket off the couch, sliding it on as he slammed the door shut.

“Stupid Roy with his stupid red hair and stupid ideas. Stupid.”

—

You were already in bed when Jason got home. He sighed, seeing all the lights off in the apartment. He was hoping to catch you before bed but maybe it was best to talk in the morning anyways.

“Jay?” He turned from his spot in the kitchen,where he was pouring a bowl of cereal, to see you peering out the bedroom doorway at him.

“Hey. Want some?” He raised his bowl. You nodded, padding softly towards him.

Instead of sitting at the counter, you walked around it to wrap your arms around his waist. Pressing you face into his back as he softened.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

“Where were you?” He tensed in you grasp. You pulled away quickly, stepping back to put some distance between you. He paused at your sudden movement before answering.

“I was at Roy’s. Didn’t I tell you that?” You shrugged at him, avoiding eye contact.” Jason flinched—he’s just making this worse. “Really.”

“I believe you.”

Jason frowned, “Do you?”

“Of course I do!”

“Doesn’t really seem like it.” He mumbled, immediately regretting it.

“What, you think I don’t trust you?”

“I didn’t say that.” Jason sighed, this isn’t how he wanted this conversation to go.

“Well maybe I shouldn’t trust you. You’re always taking phone calls during dinner and receiving texts at random times of day—and night! I mean who texts someone at night?!”

“You text me all the time at night!”

“Yeah, because I’m your girlfriend!” You gasp, “Do you have another girlfriend?!”

“Do you even hear yourself right now? I’m not cheating on you! Would you just let me explain?”

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Yes, go on. Explain.”

“I, well…I…um—” He hadn’t actually thought this far. He wasn’t expecting to see you tonight, so he hadn’t planned what to say. He hadn’t gotten chocolate or flowers or even a single book.

The two of you stand there staring at eachother—neither of you knowing what to say.

Luckily for you, Roy breaks the silence.

Unluckily for Jason, Roy breaks the silence.

“Hey, man. You forgot this at my apartment. Figured you’d need it if you wanted to propose.” Roy froze as he met your shocked gaze. He kept his eyes on you though, not wanting to see Jason’s glare—although he could definitely feel it.

Lian ducks out from behind his legs and shouts your name while running at you. She jumps into your arms. “I missed you! Now that you and uncle Jay are getting married, does that mean you’re officially family?” She continues rambling as you stared shocked at the box in Roy’s hand. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here, already walking backwards towards the window he and Lian had just come through. “We can have a tea party and you can come for Christmas! Ooh ooh! Can I be the flower girl at your wedding?”

That finally snaps you out of you daze as you look down to smile at her. “Yeah, honey, I’m sure you can be the flower girl. As long as Uncle Jay is okay with it.” You turn to him, batting your eyelashes guiltily.

He smiles at you, a bit hesitantly. “Yes?”

“Yeah.” You smile back. His breath hitches before reaches for your hands.

“This isn’t how I wanted to ask you.”

You smile at him, “Yeah, I figured.”

“I wanted to propose on our anniversary. But, I mean, ya know.” He shrugged nonchalantly but you could tell it bothered him. You smiled softly at him as your eyes soften.

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head.

“No, I should’ve made things right after missing our date. I shouldn’t have let you simmer with your anger.”

“I shouldn’t be mad, I just—you’re gone a lot. And I miss you! I don’t want to share you with the entire city, but they need you. But, sometimes I need you too.”

“I’ll be there if you ever need me. I mean it. And I’ll be around more.”

“Good, otherwise I think I’d have to become a vigilante so we could spend more time together.” He shoots you a nervous look.

“Absolutely not.”

“What, you don’t think I’d look good in spandex?” You bat your eyelashes again, this time more mischievously.

“I did not say that, I think you’d look good in anything.” He laughed, running his hands up and down your arms. “You’d even look good in Dick’s atrocious discowing suit.”

You snort, pushing him lightly before he continues.

“But I need you to be safe. You won’t be safe out there.”

“Okay, I was just joking. But I need you to be safe. I need you to come back to me, okay?”

“I’ll always come back to you. Promise.”

“Are you guys going to kiss now?” You jumped, forgetting that you have an audience.

“Lian! Let them have their moment.” Roy scooped her up in his arms and started backing toward the door again. He tossed the box to Jason. “Although, I do think I deserve some thanks. You guys wouldn’t be engaged if I hadn’t—”

“Get out, Roy.”

“Yes, sir.” He sent Jay a mock salute as Lian copied him—a very serious look on her face before they both broke into giggles

“Jason. Ma’am.” Roy pretending to tip a hat at the two of you as Lian made heart shapes with her hands.

“Out. Now.”

“Okay, bye!”

You turned back to Jason as the window slid shut. “So you really want to marry me?”

“I think I’ll actually die—again—if we don’t get married.”

You laugh before pointing at him. “Don’t even joke about that.”

He grabs the hand you were using to point and lifts it to his mouth, placing a soft kiss to the back of it.

“As you wish, Buttercup.” You roll your eyes—both at the reference and the nickname.

He keep your hand grasped in his own as he sinks to one knee.

“I guess I should do this right.” He takes a deep breath before he says your full name, “I was looking at the sunrise this morning but all I could think about was waking up next to you every morning. I want you to be the last thing I see when I go to sleep and the first thing I see when I wake up. I want to spend the rest of my life waking up with you, watching the sunrise with you. I will spend the rest of my life loving you and I will spend the rest of my life showing you how in love with you I am.” He smiles tearfully as you wipe your own tears, mascara leaving streaks across your face—but hebstillbthought you were the most beautiful woman in the world ever. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

Jason grinned, skidding the ring onto your finger before scooping you up in his arms and twirling you around.

You giggle, pressing your face into his neck as you yelp.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do!”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do! I love you more.”

“Aww, Jay! This is our first fight while we’re engaged.”

He sighs—this is going to be a long night life.

But he wouldn’t want to spend it with anyone else—and neither would you.

Taglist:

@4rachn3

@raven-amethyst

@iridescencefae

@sinnamon-bunn

@devilslittlehelper

@valentine-mybeloved

@hobi-kobi

@c-r-y-s-ta-l

@redhooduwu

@squicksquak

[arabella0001]

cn: fluff. slow burn. avoidant attachment style. explicit sexual content [nsfw / 18+].angst & comfort. dirty talk, 7.4 k+ words.

⟡ fandom: naruto | pairing: kakashi x reader

part 1 part 2 part 3

a/n: I'm not the most reliable writer. It looks like it's going to be three parts of @hoohamaru request, since, once again, I ended up writing way too much.

“The hole in one’s heart gets filled by others around you. To know what is right and choose to ignore it is the act of a coward.”

Kakashi hadn’t forgotten your last interaction. The one where things seemed to blur the line of friendship, considering the way he looked at you. A friendship that you recently couldn’t even picture as plausible, given that he’s the Hokage. At least until Tsunade knocked some sense into you.

He’s just a man at the end of the day. A man you unfortunately can’t see only as a friend.

“So what? It’s Kakashi. The problem’s not that he’s the Hokage, it’s that he’s Kakashi.”

Tsunade was right. Kakashi never cared about someone’s title, only about the kind of person they were. Receiving attention just for his position? That means nothing to him. He’s being pushed into a role that doesn’t represent him, so the mask he already wears on his face now also reflects both his imposed persona and the soul he unconsciously shields.

That’s why he’s the one who couldn’t sleep now, thinking about you and the improbable possibilities that might unfold if he stopped protecting himself with that wall.

Your warm voice that eased his stress about the enemies hunting him and harming the villagers pulled him out of his thoughts as he was coming down the stairs toward the kitchen.

“Morning, Kakashi.”

Well, that’s an impressive escalation. From those exaggerated formalities you used before to now saying his name directly without bowing for a simple morning greeting.

“Good morning, Y/N.”

The redness on your cheeks could be blamed on the heat from the lit stove, resulting in a perfect start to the morning. A coffee made by you.

“Coffee, right?”

“Yeah, I’d like that. Thank you.”

Kakashi’s gaze was heavy as it lingered on you, already dressed in uniform for work, your hair pulled into a bun to stay out of your way, with two strands framing your face symmetrically.

You looked lovely.

He dissociated from his own body for a moment, feeling his mouth go dry, adjusting his voice as he sat down on the couch.

“I won’t be staying here much longer. I wanted you to be the first to know.”

A heavy heartbeat.

You focused on your voice so it wouldn’t sound affected while your body heating up from within, from the emotions stirring. You returned with the coffee cups in hand, still saying nothing yet.

Your eyes betrayed you first when you looked at Kakashi. Something unspoken in them. Hard even for him to ignore. Hard to interpret.

“Did something happen?”

“Thank you.” He thanked you again for the coffee, crossing one leg over the other, resting the flowery saucer on his knee as he steadied the cup above it. “They need me at the office. Naruto and Shikamaru managed to find a trail. Especially with Kazekage’s help.”

You sat down beside him, glancing at him briefly before looking away from that inexplicable feeling building up.

“Gaara managed to help you? I’m glad.” You paused for a moment, biting your lip, and Kakashi felt a lump in his throat. “Is it too curious of me to ask what he found?”

He felt a smile tug at his lips under his mask, but surprisingly, the wall surrounding Kakashi’s soul cracked open slightly, letting in a wave of disappointment? Disappointment about what?

It probably wouldn’t have worked out anyway. Why would someone like you ever get involved with someone like him?

“At least you can’t ask for help again, right?” A little joke to ease the tension heavy with unspoken things, your cheeks turning red. Fuck. You forgot you’re technically still a village traitor. Maybe it’s better that he’s leaving. Hearing his laugh again at your embarrassed face brought that hollow feeling in your stomach. “Have you heard of the Kurama clan?”

The way you frown when you’re thinking is adorable.

“I don’t think so?”

“Yakumo Kurama is a shinobi from Konohagakure, our village. She is one of the last of her clan. Kurama possess a very powerful kekkei genkai that allows her to create illusions capable of manifesting real physical harm. Her genjutsu is so potent that damage experienced within the illusion becomes real in the body of the victim.”

You paused for a moment, contemplating the situation.

“You think she trapped the others in a genjutsu?”

You stood up, shocked, gesturing as you spoke.

“That many? Why would someone do that?”

Kakashi could see how much you cared about people, how your heart broke right in front of him. An uncomfortable feeling settled in his body. He didn’t know how to respond.

“Well, there’s one thing about Kurama… It’s not entirely her fault.” Kakashi looked at you from head to toe. “Y/N, please sit.”

“Right, sorry.”

As you sat down, Kakashi shook his head slightly in protest at your apology.

“They discovered she has a monstrous alter ego, called Ido, which she struggles to control, and which leads her to destructive behavior. She even hurt her parents unintentionally.”

“What? Monstrous alter ego?”

“Yes, some people are born with incredibly strong abilities. Without proper guidance, you can lose yourself or lose control.”

“So she needed someone to be there for her, to guide her? So she wouldn’t be afraid of losing control anymore?”

The question caught Kakashi off guard. But only after your curious and upset gaze landed on him.

Your question made him reflect on himself.

And you realized from his hesitation that something was wrong in his behavior.

“Kakashi?”

He avoided your gaze.

“Yes, that’s right.” He distracted himself with another sip of coffee.

“Then why would she want to attack people with Sharingan?”

“She… felt powerless because of Konoha’s society. Because no one in the leadership paid enough attention to her, and her monstrous side concluded that no one else deserved it either. Why should we be different? A kind of… jealousy, that others had a better life and she didn’t.”

It made no sense.

“Are you saying you or Sasuke had a good life?”

“Maybe I did.”

“I doubt it.”

Your voice had a passive-aggressive edge, and he lifted his head from the ground to look at you. Remembering all these weeks. All the stress in the village. All because of the system of the village before. So many victims.

“It’s not her fault what happened to her, but it’s not justified to want to hurt so many people. I think it’s—”

Your voice trembled, and Kakashi almost froze, but somehow his mouth didn’t. His hand glitched, as if it wanted to move, but didn’t know how.

“Y/N, I know. It’s not, you’re right. But don’t let it consume you. Fortunately, no one died.”

Aftwe you saw how he try to comfort him even if it’s not necessarily, your hand slipped into his.

Do i look so weak? I feel so weak.

“I’m sorry. I really am. And I’m sorry you had to go through this. It’s not normal—” You felt a tear in your eye. “I can imagine the kind of pressure you’re under and we should all thank you for what you’re doing. I fucking hope this world will finally change somehow—” Your voice faded toward the end, and you could no longer see clearly.

Kakashi’s eyes widened. The surrounding sounds blurred to him now.

Your hand was so warm, but his was cold as ice.

Yet the other hand reached toward your shoulder cautiously, retreating a few times before finally resting on you.

“Y/N… I don’t know what to—”

He didn’t finish, because you stood up. Embarrassed by your own reaction, and by the fact that you touched him. Maybe he didn’t want that.

“I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t make you feel—” You wiped your tears with your hand and Kakashi stood up too, instinctively stepping toward you.

“It’s fine, I just don’t…I should thank you! And you also, you don’t need to thank me, considering how much you’re helping others, and we’re all doing our part and…”

Kakashi hadn’t spoken that fast or anxiously in a long time, and you tried to hide your tear-stained face, moving side to side awkwardly.

He pulled you into his arms.

Your breath stopped.

Your wide eyes mirrored his, though you couldn’t see them, because his head rested gently against yours, one hand cradling the back of your head protectively.

Kakashi stared into the void. He didn’t know if it was your heartbeat pounding so loud or his own. You froze for a few long seconds before returning the embrace.

“I’m sorry, it’s embarrassing, I shouldn’t—”

“Shh.”

Kakashi gave you comfort and yet he felt so tense. It didn’t feel natural, and at the same time, it did. What was wrong with him?

He felt like suffocating eventually, so he let go.

He gave you one last look. Your tear-filled eyes, sad but confused and… something else he couldn’t quite understand that he knew would haunt him with even more regret, for not being able to do more.

He turned toward the place where he now knew his Hokage robes were. His body felt heavy, each step weighed down.

Before leaving through the door, Kakashi looked back at you once more.

“If you ever need anything, please tell me. And… good luck with the Mono-Thunder Train Project.”

He gave you a small nod and left, not waiting for you to answer, expecially after the shocked look you gave him.

You knew who i was from the beginning, didn’t you?

Iruka offered you a genuine smile as he stopped by your tent, his eyes softening as they closed briefly.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You matched his infectious smile while you continued packing your belongings into your bag before the organization team arrived to clean up and rearrange the site. Your assignment here was finished.

“Hello, Iruka. It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you too. Last day, huh?”

You shot him a sidelong glance while hoisting your bag over your shoulder by the straps.

“Exactly.”

He held the tent flap aside for you as you stepped out, trailing after you and helping you with the weighted baggage. Shinya greeted the two of you before circling around to walk ahead. From that moment on, your presence felt distant from the rest of the world—just the two of them remained, exchanging quiet smiles.

Iruka caught your arm just before you walked away.

“Oh, wait. The Hokage asked me to give you this.”

Your heart dropped. It had been a week since the last time.

“What is it?”

“Some kind of… compensation? For letting him stay at your place? I think. I’m not entirely sure.” Iruka turned the envelope over in his hands, uncertain.

“I don’t want it.”

And you left. Behind you, Iruka stood confused, but your friend threw him a sly smirk, looping her arm around his neck. Something mischievous was already blooming in her mind.

“I’ll fill you in,” Shinya whispered against his ear.

You couldn’t lie. You’d missed the office. Not because of the conditions; that would be a shallow reason. You’d fallen behind on your projects and genuinely needed the stillness. And, if you were honest, the distraction.

A knock at the door broke the quiet.

“Come in?”

You rarely had visitors. Maybe Tsunade, but she never bothered to knock.

A man stepped into your room, his hair tied in a spiky ponytail, narrow brown eyes familiar and sharp. He wore the expression of someone who hadn’t come by choice, as though he were following orders.

“Sorry to interrupt.”

Shikamaru bowed slightly in front of you, prompting you to rise from your chair and bow back. Oh. Right. I know him. A pause. Wait—what?

“Ah—no problem. Did something happen?”

Shikamaru wasn’t one for unnecessary words. He lazily extended a document across your desk, already turning toward the door. His gaze flicked over you, brief and calculating, before he let go of the paper.

“Best of luck.”

He left you standing in the quiet room, puzzled, until your eyes dropped to the page.

You felt your hand tremble against the paper. A tangled knot of emotions churned in your chest. You were so happy that someone believed in your ideas. You knew Shikamaru wouldn’t have signed off unless he was certain the project was a sound investment. But still… a part of you felt uneasy. Was this preferential treatment? Or was it something else?

Had your efforts during the crisis earned you this recognition?

Or was there a chance that… No. Impossible.

What is this man’s business?

Iruka brought the envelope back to the Hokage’s office, placing it on the desk in front of Kakashi, who blinked a few times at the sight of it. Iruka lingered, waiting to see if he would say anything. Eventually, under the weight of the silence, Kakashi asked,

“You didn’t find Y/N?”

The familiarity in his tone unsettled Iruka. And after what your friend had told him, too many questions were beginning to take root in his mind. Far too many.

“She didn’t want it, Kakashi.”

A faint tension slipped from Kakashi’s shoulders. Iruka wasn’t naïve. He picked up the cup of tea resting on the desk, stirring the honey within as he tried to keep his voice even, almost casual.

“How did the two of you get along? She seemed a little upset.”

He had expected you to refuse, but your anger confused him.

“She’s kind. Soft-hearted.”

“That’s all?” Iruka’s voice carried a sharper edge as he lifted his head. Kakashi looked up, caught off guard.

“Is there something you want to say, Iruka?”

Iruka didn’t press the matter. He turned to leave but paused at the door, offering one final, quiet piece of advice.

“Don’t let life pass you by, Kakashi. We all deserve good things, especially when they come knocking first.”

He left Kakashi alone in the room, disoriented, with a heart that suddenly felt too heavy in his chest.

After that, you were so caught up with the project that even the pang in your chest didn’t feel that bad anymore. Weeks passed, but you didn’t cross paths with Kakashi.

Well, until today.

While your protective goggles shielded your eyes from the mini-grinder in your hand, you were working on a component from the massive blueprint—well-drawn and architecturally sound. You silently thanked Sai. You hadn’t even known he existed until Sakura mentioned him. Though strange on the surface, he seemed like a decent guy.

You nearly dropped the running grinder on your hand, throwing your arms up as your heart almost leapt out of your chest.

“Oi!” Tsunade burst in, as volcanic as always. Her perpetually annoyed expression was right in place.

“What the fuck, Tsuna! Are you crazy??”

She rolled her eyes as she walked toward you.

“Have you deactivated your shinobi instincts since becoming a teacher?” Tsunade gave you a smug grin.

“I’m not a teach—! Ugh. Just say what you want.”

She leaned over your worktable, eyeing the project with a rare glint of admiration. That was the best she could offer right now, considering her condition.

“I really need a drink.”

You frowned slightly.

“Are you okay?”

She let out a low sigh, shaking her head as she turned her back, moving with an almost childlike huff.

“Yes, yes. Calm down. I’m just sick of work, work, and more work.” Tsunade was already making her way to the door. “You in?”

You thought for a second before deciding quickly.

“Sure.”

You needed it—after all the work, but also…

“Oh, by the way.”

You gave her a confused look.

“I called the others too. I’m sure you care who—but you’ll find out soon enough.”

You yelled after her for answers, but she had already slammed the door shut.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, but it made no sense. It was just your longing. The one that shouldn’t exist anymore.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, at the black floral kimono cinched gently at your waist covering the slightly tighter dress underneath, you took a deep breath, calming yourself. Your lips were just a touch rosier—just enough not to draw too much attention. The same went for the soft black under your eyes, paired with mascara. By the time you reached Shushu-ya. The Shushu-ya is known for its sake and charcoal-grilled yakitori. But tonight, it was definitely going to be all about the sake.

Unlucky for you, everyone was already there. Asuma along with Kurenai (your new favorite couple). A flushed Tsunade, probably from the three shots she’d already taken with Shizune, who didn’t seem far behind her. Genma and Koteshu, whom you didn’t interact with often, but were always decent company at a drinking table. Sakura wasn’t there, probably home with Sasuke, who didn’t like to drink much. Shinya was already all over Iruka. And… you two made eye contact first, as if he already knew you were coming. Your eyes widened slightly, though you hoped he hadn’t noticed. Your heart leapt strangely, making you quickly look away as you approached the table.

Tsunade smirked when she saw you, placing a hand near her mouth for dramatic effect.

“Oooh! Look who decided to show up.”

You rolled your eyes at her, smiling. But your legs were shaking as you sat down—since the only seat available was next to Kakashi.

“You said 8 PM, darling.”

She furrowed her brows, faking contemplation with a pouty expression.

“Yeah, maybe?” A glint sparkled in her eye that you didn’t see coming. Had this mean woman planned it?! “Anyway, how about we play poker and I take all your money?”

Asuma flicked the toothpick from his mouth, smiling at Kurenai before speaking.

“As if you’d ever pass up the chance to clean out our pockets.”

The conversation began to blur into background noise, your skin burning until you mustered the courage to look at Kakashi—who was already looking at you.

“Hi, Kakashi.”

He gave you that soft, familiar smile. The one you could always see in his eyes.

“Hello, Y/N.” His hand was relaxed on the back of his chair, body slightly turned toward you. “How have you been?”

You hadn’t expected to feel like this after so long. But you also hadn’t expected him to look that obscenely good.

His spiky hair was no longer tucked beneath the metal headband, a few strands falling onto his forehead. The scar over his eye was no longer hidden, and you hadn’t known it could make him look even more handsome—somehow sharpening his features in a new way. His dark eyes were softer now, and even his posture seemed relaxed. He was wearing all black, a tank top that hugged his torso and showed off his defined muscles and that tattoo you couldn’t help but stare at when your gaze instinctively wandered there. The tight shirt even had a section that covered his mouth.

Fuck, I need a drink.

After a few painfully awkward minutes of disassociating, Kakashi was still waiting for you to answer. He seemed to be lost in his own head too, trying not to let his gaze drop to the curves outlined by what you were wearing—or to your lips, which looked fuller than usual.

“Y/N?”

You blinked twice before letting out a soft, forced laugh.

“Sorry, sorry. Zoned out for a second.” In a way, you told him the truth. “Ahm, I’ve been okay. Haven’t had time for much lately, to be honest.” When the waiter came, you downed your shot so quickly that everyone at the table looked at you—either impressed or amused, depending on who it was. You felt your cheeks redden under the sudden attention.

Kakashi’s mind was flooded with questions. Does she even want to talk to me? She doesn’t seem comfortable. His self-sabotaging thoughts made him want to withdraw from the conversation.

“I know what you mean.” He smiled again before glancing somewhere random across the bar.

You immediately felt guilty. You were being distant, too embarrassed.

“Oh, right!” Kakashi’s gaze returned to you. “Thank you for the budget you allocated to the project. I really didn’t expect it. I… didn’t get a chance to thank you directly. I guess being Hokage is a lot more demanding than what I do.” You corrected yourself, stuttering slightly. “Definitely more demanding, actually.”

Kakashi was a bit surprised by your behavior—he didn’t understand your reactions. He remembered you differently, and now you either seemed shy in social settings… or shy with him.

“All work is demanding. You don’t need to thank me, your mind is innovative and we need people like you. Thank you for your contribution.”

You chuckled a little, your mouth speaking ahead of your brain.

“You’re so formal.”

Kakashi’s eyes widened, hearing your laugh again after so long.

“Yeah… I guess I’m still in Hokage mode. Forgive me.”

Now it was Kakashi’s turn to take a shot, turning his head slightly to hide the hint of blush on his cheeks.

The conversation eventually smoothed into something more natural. Somehow, Kakashi’s respectful demeanor helped you try to view him as just a friend. Maybe you’d imagined certain things. Maybe that was all it was. You had to let it go.

Or at least, that’s what you told yourself by the tenth shot, watching him walk toward the bathroom before turning back to a very tipsy Genma, grinning.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Your lover boy left?”

You shoved him playfully on the shoulder.

“Genma!!”

“What? Everyone at the table knows. Seems like it’s just you two who don’t.”

Looking around and seeing everyone giving you the same look, you were left speechless, mouth slightly open in surprise.

You laughed along with him.

“I think you’re crazier than I am.”

“Oh, without question, darling.”

Kakashi had returned to the table just in time to catch that final darling and Genma far too close to your face while you were laughing. Kakashi averted his gaze, feeling a hard-to-control impulse to either leave the table or interrupt—even though he had no right. But of course, he stayed silent.

You turned toward him, a little shyly, but Kakashi was already ignoring you, talking to Shizune.

A ridiculous question popped into your head. Of course he doesn’t like her, you answered yourself.

And again, Tsunade’s words echoed in your head.

By the end of the night, you were tipsy enough that walking straight was a challenge. But at least you weren’t alone. Kakashi had hung back, hands in his pockets, watching as you all said your goodbyes. After waving everyone off, you started walking alone.

It didn’t take long before Kakashi suddenly appeared beside you. You flinched, looking up at him. The height difference was intimidating—especially with him looking at you like that.

“Kakashi?”

“I don’t think it’s safe for you to walk home alone like this.”

You smiled playfully before replying.

“Like this? D-drunk? Pfft, I’ve been worse.”

“Then I’m glad nothing bad’s happened to you so far.” He was just as irresponsible once—he couldn’t judge.

“So you’re walking me home because it’s on your way?”

You were a little unfiltered, not really caring what you let slip.

“No. I’m just walking you.”

You stopped walking, eyeing him suspiciously before starting again. Okay, calm down, he’s just being friendly.

“T-thanks.” You wanted to believe the stutter was only from the alcohol, but your flushed cheeks betrayed you. Kakashi noticed—and his heart clenched at your adorable expression.

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m sorry for crying.”

Kakashi turned to you abruptly. You’d meant to say it for a while but never had the chance.

“I don’t know what came over me. I really was sorry. I guess being around you made me want to understand you more, empathize more… and then, with the village situation and all the stress, I just… felt safe. And only after did I realize how awful it was to invade your personal space like that. You clearly didn’t want it, you were tense, and then you left and I felt ridiculous. But I was also mad when you tried to give me that ‘compensation’ and—”

Only after did you realize you’d talked way too much. Your heart pounded wildly until you looked up and saw Kakashi, stunned. He had stopped walking.

“Y/N.”

“Y-yes?”

His eyes scanned your entire face, then locked onto yours—gentle, but troubled.

“Don’t apologize. You didn’t invade anything. I just… wasn’t used to it. If you felt safe, then I must’ve felt the same. I’m sorry about the ‘compensation’ idea. I just… didn’t know how else to communicate with you. Or how to thank you again.”

Did he just open up to me?

You both started walking again and you tried to process what he said.

“Why didn’t you talk to me if you didn’t know how to reach me?”

Now Kakashi was silent. Because I don’t know how to talk to you. Because I don’t deserve to. Because getting to know me would be a waste of your time.

“Okay, I’m sorry. You don’t have to say anything! I just meant that I wanted to—sorry, I don’t want to force anything—Fuck, I’m so weird—” You tripped slightly, but he caught you by the hand and waist. His firm grip and warm hands froze time. “I’m sorry—”

He hadn’t let go yet. Kakashi was stunned—he had thoughts he didn’t dare voice, and here you were saying them out loud.

“I wanted to talk too.” You looked at your still-intertwined hands, and Kakashi released his grip slowly, awkwardly.

You were still looking at him—somehow unashamed. Alcohol really is a dangerous drug. Kakashi felt your gaze rake over him entirely, leaving his thoughts in chaos. Is it just the alcohol?

“So why didn’t you talk to me then?”

You reached your street—your house in sight—but stopped a few steps before. Looking at him.

Kakashi looked back at you, his tongue stiff with silence, unable to form a single safe sentence.

“O-ok, I get it. Well—” You turned to leave, but Kakashi instinctively caught your hand. Your eyes widened as your heart pounded harder.

“Could you stay a bit longer?”

You took a sip from your water bottle, the little that was left, and nodded.

You leaned against some unfinished brick walls, and he followed.

“I think I didn’t talk because I felt like I shouldn’t.”

Your head turned instantly.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I think… I’d like to get to know you better. Not just in one way.”

Those last words were dragged out. Kakashi repeating Iruka’s words in his head like a mantra. His voice felt foreign—he couldn’t believe he’d actually said that aloud.

Even though his eyes tried to avoid yours, you didn’t say anything for a few minutes, which made Kakashi anxious—until he looked at you again. You looked shocked.

“Y/N?”

“What do you mean by ‘not just in one way’?” You stepped closer, both of your thighs brushing. You didn’t know why, but you kept feeling the urge to get closer to him—even if he didn’t seem like the type.

“In whatever way… you want.”

You’d changed your opinion about alcohol three times tonight. But right now, in this moment—if it weren’t for the alcohol—you never would’ve had the guts to do this.

“In whatever way I want?” You stepped forward, now right in front of Kakashi.

Kakashi saw the glint in your eyes—and it confirmed for him: it was no longer just in his head. It was desire. He was already in deep; there was no point backing out now.

“Yes.”

Your eyes dropped to his lips, still hidden under the mask—and an idea struck you.

Kakashi saw it. And it was hard to judge the situation. You’re drunk. You’re not reliable.

“Y/N, I think we should talk tomorrow. When you’re sober.”

He regretted saying it the moment your sad expression fell across your face.

“Don’t you want this too?” You stepped even closer. “Is it really just in my head?”

Kakashi gulped, his eyes finally settling on your lips—not ignoring them anymore. But he hated that it was another irresponsible choice—one you might regret in the morning. (You wouldn’t.)

“It’s not.”

That was all the confirmation you needed before Kakashi felt your wet lips press through the fabric. His right hand instinctively went to your back, gently touching you as your lips moved softly, testing what it felt like to kiss him. You deepened the half-kiss, letting out a hum at the sensation—and Kakashi felt himself twitch in his pants. Your hands reached behind his neck, threading into his hair, and your body pressed into his.

You opened your mouth more, and when he felt your tongue trace along the fabric over his mouth, he groaned.

You pulled back briefly to meet his half-lidded gaze, then leaned in again, cupping his cheek and kissing him once more. When you moaned, shifting slightly against him, Kakashi gripped you tighter—letting you know he liked the sound.

Your fingers went under the mask, tugging it down quickly. Kakashi, already anticipating the moment, didn’t care.

It began as a gentle exploration—your tongue grazing his, softly touching the tip. Then your tongue slid along his lips and Kakashi opened wider in return, the kiss escalating into something hungry. Kakashi swirled his tongue around yours, then sucked on it—and your knees almost gave out. He kissed incredibly .

You moaned into his mouth as his hands found your jaw, angling your face toward him. He dragged your lips and bit down gently, making you hiss before kissing you again—slower now, but more sensual. Like he was fucking your mouth. You thought you might go insane wondering what he was like in bed.

So turned on you were searching for any release, you started grinding slightly against him. Kakashi grabbed your hips, stopping you. He paused—his lips barely brushing yours, breathing your breath. His grey eyes darkened, and a shiver ran down your spine. His hand was still on your chin as he looked at you.

“Y/N, we should stop.”

You leaned in again, brushing your lips over his, and he responded—gently—before gripping your cheek to stop you.

“Y/N, we’re both intoxicated. It’s the middle of the night. We’re in the street.”

Your eyes widened. Fuck, I’m with the Hokage.

“Come to my place.”

Kakashi tried to calm down, still not fully processing that you just kissed. And you had no idea what you’d awakened in him with your taste. But still—his respect for you was stronger than that.

“Y/N, I promise we’ll talk tomorrow—”

“I won’t do anything, I swear! Just… sleep.”

Kakashi looked you over, sensing sincerity. It took a few seconds before he sighed and replied. He… missed you, somehow. Even if “missing” was a foreign feeling for him.

“Okay.”

You tugged on his hand, and Kakashi was stunned by your lack of inhibition—though he shamelessly admired your body from behind, a sin he wasn’t proud of.

You struggled a bit to walk, and Kakashi supported you by the arm until you reached your bed.

“You’ll sleep here with me, right?”

Kakashi felt his heart hammering. He wanted to leave. He should leave. But he couldn’t. Your eyes haunted him.

“Yes.”

Kicking off his shoes, Kakashi lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. You slowly turned toward him, as if asking silent permission. He reached out, pulled you to his chest. You kissed his cheek before settling in.

“Good night, Kakashi.”

Kakashi stared blankly ahead, already sabotaging himself. But his voice came naturally.

“Sleep well, Y/N.”

⸻

When you awoke, disoriented and heavy-lidded, your eyes fluttered open slowly. Lying on your side, you noticed the pillow beside you—neatly arranged, untouched. As if no one had ever slept there. The memories from last night only deepened the pounding in your head. Sitting up abruptly, you swallowed hard, a hollow ache in your stomach knocking the air from your lungs. What had last night meant?

Shame gnawed at you—for your persistence, your behavior, everything you’d done. You couldn’t help but believe he hadn’t needed any of it, that maybe he’d only gone along for your sake. That thought was only confirmed as you stepped downstairs and saw no sign of him. Still wrapped in the fog of regret, you caught a glimpse of steam rising from a freshly brewed coffee and a folded scrap of paper left beside it, torn at the edges as if it had been ripped hastily.

Your heart thudded harder in your chest. Somehow, his short, almost detached note brought a sliver of calm. But not enough.

Meanwhile, Kakashi was at the training grounds. He hadn’t lied. No, he would never stoop so low as to flee from his own emotions behind a convenient excuse. He genuinely had to investigate an unresolved budget issue—minor, but enough to affect the farmers grappling with the drought during rice cultivation. Could it have waited? Absolutely. But he convinced himself a Hokage should act swiftly—that doing so was for the best. The truth, however, was simpler: he couldn’t bear to stay. Frustration churned in him, spilling out through more aggressive strikes during his training, as if the effort might silence the storm in his mind.

What had happened last night was on him. He knew better than to seek you out, but his heart had revolted against discipline—against rules etched into his psyche since childhood. What frightened him most was that what he felt was real, unforced. And because of that, his actions no longer belonged entirely to him. Who knows what he might have done if he’d stayed in that room with you this morning? So, he did what he always did best—retreated into himself, where it was safer.

The distance Kakashi imposed on you felt unbearable, convincing you he wanted nothing more to do with you—especially after what happened. But you were different. You couldn’t just sit with silence. You didn’t want him to hate you. You didn’t want to be remembered as something regrettable. So you did what you knew best—you confronted him.

Perhaps Tsunade’s intervention also played a part, watching you drain yourself emotionally, your job neglected, your spirit dimmed.

“I told you how Kakashi is. All you can do is talk to him instead of spinning scenarios you can’t even confirm.”

Even Tsunade seemed puzzled by it all, unsure whether Kakashi was serious or not. She knew he occasionally had one-night encounters when necessary, always respectful, never exploitative—but with you, she wasn’t sure whether you were the exception.

Your steps trembled toward the office door just as Tsunade exited suddenly, nearly bumping into you. Her eyes widened, and she looked visibly agitated. You only hoped she hadn’t said anything about… that.

But the truth was different. She hadn’t betrayed your confidence by telling him she knew about the kiss. And that kiss—you still felt it every time your fingertips grazed your lips absentmindedly, lost in thought. She didn’t say a word. Just let you walk in.

Kakashi had already been scolded by her, warned with veiled sharpness:

“I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but don’t mess around. She’s my friend. And I don’t think you want me to resort to violence.”

Kakashi had nearly dropped his pen when you walked in, your gaze timid, lingering at the doorway as if unsure you were even allowed inside.

“Hokage-sama, may I have a minute, if you’re not too busy?”

He gave you a quick once-over, noting how pale and drained you looked. It only added to the guilt gnawing at him, though he wasn’t sure if he was to blame.

“S-sure, Y/N. Please, have a seat. And just call me by my name.”

You sat down with a sigh, biting your lip until you found the courage to lift your gaze and meet his inscrutable eyes.

“I’m sorry for… last week.”

“Sorry for what exactly?” Kakashi looked genuinely confused.

“I pushed things. I shouldn’t have let it happen like that. Not under those circumstances.”

“Y/N, I don’t think you understand. You didn’t do anything wrong. I did.”

Your eyes widened, as if you’d been struck in the chest.

“Why? Y-you didn’t want it, did you?”

Kakashi furrowed his brow.

“When I kissed you, did it look like I didn’t want to?” A flush spread across your cheeks as you shifted in your seat, and he noticed. He couldn’t lie—the desire you’d sparked in him had haunted his nights, keeping sleep just out of reach as he thought about your lips. “I shouldn’t have taken advantage of your intoxicated state.”

You cut him off quickly.

“Taken advantage? If anything, I was the one who took advantage of you!”

He shook his head firmly.

You gathered your courage, breathing unevenly, fidgeting with the armrests of the chair to avoid his eyes.

“What do you feel for me?”

The question hit him with such force that he fell silent, hearing only the pounding of his own heart, though his voice stayed measured.

“What do you mean?”

Another blow to your chest. You wanted to run. Instead, you stayed.

“So it meant nothing to you. It was just… a moment.”

The hurt in your eyes made Kakashi feel like he was unraveling. Your expression said more than words ever could. The silence around you grew thick—only the birds outside filled the void.

“It wasn’t just a moment.”

You looked up at him again, wide-eyed, while he broke eye contact, unsettled by the charged air between you.

“Look, Y/N. I’m not the right man for you. You deserve more than I can give.”

That final blow stirred irritation, your eyes misting in frustration, your voice trembling with emotion.

“So it didn’t mean anything. Just another excuse all men use. It’s not you, it’s me.”

Kakashi was taken aback by how wounded you sounded.

“It did mean something. And it’s true—you’re too good for me. You don’t deserve the chaos I carry.”

Your voice shifted to something sharper, defensive.

“And who are you to decide what I deserve? You think I’m perfect? That I don’t have my own flaws? Then why did you even try to get to know me? Am I insane for thinking this was real?”

Kakashi’s throat was dry, panic rising in him.

“You’re not. I wanted to know you, and I still do—but it’s not a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not… capable of a relationship.”

“Why?”

This part of you—relentless, unafraid—shook him. It scraped against every defense he’d built. But his respect for you outweighed the discomfort, so he let the conversation unfold.

“Because I don’t know what a relationship is supposed to be.”

“Would you ever hurt me on purpose?”

Kakashi stared at you, stunned by the question.

“No. Why would I do that?”

“Then you are capable of a relationship.” Silence. “If you don’t want one with me, that’s something else entirely.”

You stood up, prompting him to rise too. He motioned for you to stop, to not let that thought take root.

“No, no. It’s not about you. Really.” He stepped closer, and you lifted your eyes to his face, haloed by the sun behind him.

“Then I’ll ask again. What do you feel for me?”

The way you looked at each other made the air feel thick. Your body burned, heart pounding. Kakashi felt entranced, his gaze falling to your lips. The distance between you shrank, almost unknowingly. His hand moved hesitantly to your cheek, brushing your skin with his thumb. Your eyes shimmered—uncertain, hungry. You couldn’t move, caught in the spell of his touch. When your lips parted with a shallow breath, Kakashi leaned in, brushing your lips with his own. He gave you one last searching look before he kissed you—slowly, gently, as though you might break. You trembled, your eyes closing instinctively, brows knitting together. The kiss ended before you were ready, allowing you just one reply before he pulled away. His hand slipped from your cheek.

“Don’t run.” you whispered, grabbing the fabric of his kimono under his chin, pulling him back into you and kissing him deeper. He didn’t resist. He had already tasted you, and now his heart refused to obey his mind. You gasped into his mouth as he met you with equal fervor, his hand sliding behind your neck, pulling you flush against him. He was no longer in control when he swallowed your moans, his tongue claiming yours, gripping your back with both hands, drawing you in until you jumped, clinging to him.

Kakashi caught you effortlessly, impressing you once more with his speed as he lifted your legs to his back and carried you in a flash onto his desk. You whined when he left your mouth, only for him to descend to your neck, kissing it hungrily, making your body shiver. You arched back, trying to melt into his warmth. Reason returned for just a second.

“K-kakashi, the door’s not locked—”

“Mhm.” he murmured, his large, firm hand cupping your breast softly before giving it a gentle squeeze, tugging at the nipple hidden beneath your shirt, your missing bra only fueling his groan. His other hand hooked one of your legs around his waist, leaning into you and grinding instinctively, driven by something primal.

Your lips trembled, barely forming words between panting breaths.

“K-kakashi—The door!”

Only when you repeated yourself did Kakashi register the situation. He kissed you again, and again, until you felt his warm breath linger on your face. You gulped at the sight of his now darkened eyes. You tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear, and he offered you one last glance before helping you slide gently off the desk. He stepped back, running his hand over his mouth and eyes, staring into nothing, shaken by what he’d done.

“I’m sorry.”

He turned to close the door.

“Don’t apologize… I just… didn’t want—”

You blushed, and Kakashi sighed.

“I know. That was irresponsible.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose in stress, then looked back at you. “That’s what I feel for you.” Your heart practically burst from your chest. You could only stare at him as he approached, stepping into your space, lowering his head to meet your eyes.

“I feel so much that I don’t know how to contain it.”

You swallowed, your whole body burning, your nerves charged.

“Then don’t contain it.”

Kakashi studied your face, every detail, before releasing a heavy breath.

“I’ll try… to learn what it means to be in a relationship.” A spark of joy surged through you, blood pounding in your veins. “With you.”

You locked eyes, breathless—until a knock on the door broke the spell.

“Hokage-sama, just a reminder, your meeting with the Elder Council starts in fifteen minutes.”

Kakashi felt the handle blocked by the lock, so he cracked the door open, offering Shizune a forced smile.

“Thank you, Shizune. I’ll be on my way shortly.”

“Oh! Of course, just a reminder.” Shizune’s eyes landed behind him, widening in surprise when she spotted you, before she gave Kakashi a warm smile that brought a flush to his cheeks beneath the mask.

“Have a great day!”

“You too.” Kakashi nodded, closing the door. He turned back to find your flustered expression, feeling unusually warm inside. He moved stiffly, his motions awkward as he placed the Hokage hat on his head and looked at you.

Your smile was genuine, your eyes dancing.

“You look like a different person with that on, you know?”

“Yeah? In a good way or bad?”

“I don’t know. But the first time I saw you during my presentation, I froze a little.” Your cheeks flushed deeper as you looked away, tucking your hair behind your ear.

Kakashi had a sudden flash of that very moment.

As he moved to the door, opening it and waiting for you to exit first, his voice came low, almost a whisper before shutting it behind him.

“You weren’t alone.”

You hope he’s not lying. God, you hope he’s not lying. Because from that moment on, you felt something anchor between you—something real, something terrifying. And his confession made it all feel just a little more possible.

@strangergraphics for the divider

[ashbye]

What Do They Feed You? Pt. 2

Jason Todd x reader

A/N: Hey guys I know it's been like forever but I figured I should probably write something so here it is. A couple of you wanted a part 2 to my last Jason one so that's what I did. I've also been switching around my format because I'm trying to find a style that I like so just watch out idk. GUYS I'M UNCREATIVE I'M SORRY I FOUND THE BANNER ON PINTEREST :(

Summary: It had been almost a year and a half, and Jason had yet to accept any of your date proposals. You couldn't wait any longer. So, you decided to show him that you were serious, the only way you knew how.

Part 1 (part 1 is lowkey bad but it's whatever)

Warnings: None, fluffy, impeccable humor because I'm hilarious, swearing, a little kissy kissy

Time had flown by, and before you knew it, it had been almost 18 months since you joined Batman. Which also meant that it had been a little over a year of you flirting with Jason Todd.

Sadly, no matter what pick-up line you used, you could never leave the flirty best friend zone.

You never thought it would happen, but Jason Todd had exhausted all of your other resources and left you no other choice. There was no way you were going to let the man who was practically carved from marble slip through your fingers.

There was only one thing left to do.

Create a PowerPoint on why you would be an amazing girlfriend, and beg on your knees to let you take him on a date.

It was the only logical thing to do. And you had the perfect plan.

It took you almost two hours to make the presentation perfect. Nothing could go wrong tonight if your plan was to work, so you had to follow specific steps.

First, you told Tim and Steph the plan and asked them to take your patrol that night. They laughed at you for some strange reason, but agreed as long as you took some of their shifts, a necessary sacrifice.

Second, you cleaned your house and made it look romantic. You lit candles, bought flowers, the whole nine yards.

Then, you ordered his favorite food. You got all of his favorite snacks and drinks to make sure that he would not go hungry. He was a growing boy, of course, he needed his sustenance.

Lastly, you invited him over to hang out. You had to sound casual so as to not let him grow suspicious of your plans. So you sent him a text that a friend would normally send to another friend.

You: Hey hotstuff come over. I yearn for your presence.

#needthat (Jason): Holy shit alright. omw

Good. Everything is now in motion. With your great PowerPoint skills, there is no way you wouldn't be able to woo him.

A knock on your door had startled you from your preparation. With a deep breath, you turned the handle of your front door with a big smile.

And there he was. The hottest man you had ever seen in your life. You took him in from head to toe, admiring his beauty. He was wearing his black t-shirt with gray sweatpants. A zip up sweatshirt brought the whole outfit together. You dont think you've ever been so turned on by an outfit before, or so offended. You were jealous that those clothes were touching every inch of his skin and you weren't. What you wouldn't give to just be in those sweatpants place for 5 minutes.

Alas, now was not the time for that. You must focus. There is too much on the line.

"Hey handsome! Come on in I have something to show you!" You grabbed his hand and dragged him into your living room where the food was on the coffee table and the Powerpoint was projected onto the tv.

"Oh wow." Jason was stunned. He had expected some sort of flirty comments or obvious innuendo, but not something as over the top as this.

"You really spared no expense huh?" He was slowly looking around the room. Admiring all the hard work you put in.

You scoffed, "Well of course you're like super amazing and awesome and like one of the most important people in the world to me." You shrugged as if it was nothing, and Jason thought he might start crying then and there.

No one had ever put this much effort, for this long, to make him happy. To make it known that they cared so deeply for him.

"Now come sit down this is very important." You sat him down then grabbed your computer and stood in front of the tv.

"I bet you are wondering why I brought you here today."

Jason crossed his arms and huffed. "You tell me you yearn for my presence every day."

You rolled your eyes and gestured to him. "Well, can you blame me when you look like that? Exactly, now as I was saying-"

You clicked a button on your computer and changed the slide to a bright red one with bold letters that read 'why you should let me marry you'. Jason looked at the screen in shock with a wide smile on his face.

"This is what you brought me here for?"

"Yes, this is very important now, shush!" You clicked another button on your computer, and it slowly faded to the next slide.

"Holy shit, there's transitions and everything." His shoulders shake with the deep, gentle tone of his laugh. You stare at him in awe, completely struck by the beauty of his laugh.

"You are so beautiful, now stop, otherwise I'll keep getting distracted by your perfectness." A gentle blush appeared on his cheeks, and his smile softened. You may not have ever seen it, but he was enamored with you. He thought about you day and night. You never left his mind. Sadly, unlike you, he wasn't sure how to express these emotions. Jason feared that if he said something, he would just fuck the whole thing up.

He could not let that happen.

He would not lose you.

So, he stayed quiet. Through the first meeting, through the nightly patrols. He let you ramble through your poorly made presentation that took you almost two hours. He let you shower him with compliments about his physique and his hair. He let you list off reasons that he had already thought about on why you were perfect for each other.

He let himself take in how beautiful you were. He let himself admire your humor and your brilliant mind. He let himself fall in love with you, and he let you fall in love with him.

Because no matter how many times he told himself he didn't deserve it, you reminded him that you would never leave. That no matter what he saw when he looked in the mirror, he would always be the most beautiful thing you will ever see.

So when you finally made it to the last slide titled: 'Reason #38 On Why We Should Get Married', he stood from his spot on the couch and slowly made his way to you.

He gently grabbed the computer from your hands and set it beside him on the coffee table.

You looked at him with confused eyes as he grabbed it. "What are you doing? Didn't you like it? If you didn't, I can do something else! I bought your favorite food; I can go grab it! Just-"

He held your face with tender hands and forced your eyes onto his.

"I loved your presentation. I love all that you did for me today."

He softly stroked your cheeks as you held his wrists. You couldn't break away from his captivating gaze.

"And I love you. More than you could ever know. I plan to make up for all the time that I've missed just because I couldn't figure out how to tell you."

You smiled at him. "At least you never turned me down. I could never be upset at you either because I think you're perfect so you got lucky there."

He huffed a laugh before glancing at your lips. Jason could hardly hold himself back any longer. He pressed his lips to yours with the utmost sincerity.

You could hardly believe it.

He kissed you.

He kissed you.

After all this time of you pining over him and telling him the stupidest pick-up lines, he finally reciprocated.

Granted, you'll never know that every compliment, every line, every profession of love had him bright red in the face and falling deeper and deeper in love with you.

The kiss was full of love and passion and yearning. You wished that you didn't have to stop, but the burning in your lungs won.

You pulled away and looked into his eyes, overflowing with love. "You're a really good kisser." He laughed with a smile as he pressed his forehead to yours.

You balled his jacket in your fists and pulled him back into you. He grabbed your waist and gripped you tightly, not bearing to let you go. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held him to you. Your lips moved together feverishly, in hopes of making up for lost time.

He finally tore himself away from you. "Thank you for not giving up on me. Now, how about we take advantage of all the things you prepared today?"

Jason grabbed your hand and stepped back to the couch. He sat down and dragged you to sit next to him. You curled up into his side, and he wrapped his arms around you after grabbing the food you had bought.

The rest of the night was filled with talking, kissing, and spending time with one another. Jason finally allowed himself to have you, and there was no chance you were ever letting him go.

A/N: Thank you for reading my story! If you liked it then I encourage you to leave a like or check out some of my other stories it would mean the world to me! Again I got both of the borders from pinterest.

Taglist: @closetreader1864 @averyjadedemerald

[antithetical-bolter]

Someone, Someday (1)

Chapter 1: It's Time To Go

hi everyone, this is my other robby x nurse ofc wip, it's been up on ao3 for a while but I decided to post it here too! yes it is yet another taylor swift themed title, this one has chapter titles too lmao. this one is a different POV style bc I haven't decided what I like yet so lmk what you think <3

4.9k words | ER nurse Hyacinth Clark decides it's time for her to get the fuck out of her marriage, before she becomes just another statistic.

warnings: discussion of domestic violence, emotional abuse, miscarriage, ectopic pregnancy. excessive use of the word fuck, commas, and em dashes.

page dividers: @saradika-graphics

also if you'd like to be tagged in future updates lmk in the replies!!

Next

Masterlist

“Sometimes giving up is the strong thing, sometimes to run is the brave thing”

Hyacinth

She needs to leave. Like, right now. She really should've left already. Fuck.

Hyacinth Clark ran into work at 1902, knowing she was already a few minutes past shift change. Hopefully she got put in the same section as Dana tonight, because she was going to need some help. And probably a few drinks after all was said and done. Maybe a brief grippy sock vacation. 

This evening was too close of a call for her comfort, and she knows she can’t go home now. He was too angry, too close to finally losing his cool altogether and getting physical with her. Thankfully she has a shift tonight and could use it as an excuse to leave the house abruptly. Their relationship has never been perfect, and Hyacinth frequently found herself wondering if she made the right choice. Despite her reservations, she made a commitment and had been willing to try and make it work. They’ve been together for over a decade, since their sophomore year of college. Unfortunately time does not heal all wounds, and it seemed this one would continue to fester. Knowing that she is one bad night away from becoming a statistic scares her - and she knows it's time to do something about it.

The last year has been especially tumultuous, Hyacinth having had a miscarriage almost exactly one year earlier. The day after Pitt Fest. Jeremy, who had played the part of the supportive partner throughout her pregnancy, was a different man when they came home from the hospital. Going to the hospital (not PTMC, only Dana knew she was expecting) with your wife for some mild cramping at 14 weeks and then coming home, your wife no longer pregnant and without a baby, would understandably change a person. But Hyacinth had needed him. Instead of her loving and supportive husband who cooked for her, held her hair when she was sick, and went out of his way to make her life easier she got a cold shell of a man who could barely stand to look at her. She chalked it up to trauma and the disappointment of not having the child he had been so excited about, and he did eventually warm up to her a little bit. Not that it lasted.

"Hyacinth!" A familiar voice jolted her out of her panic spiral, "we're together in critical care today." Dana told her, and instantly Hyacinth knew that her day would have at least one bright spot. Dana had trained her right at the start of her nursing career and the pair made an incredible team. Now 5 years into her solo ER nursing career, Hyacinth almost felt like she knew what she was doing. She could do most things by herself and felt confident in her trauma skills, but smart enough to know when she needed help and not afraid to ask for it. Having spent almost a year under Dana’s supervision, whether direct or indirect, she got to know the older woman quite well and considered her one of her closest friends and an incredible mentor. Hyacinth's 5'10" stature, waist length jet black hair, and penchant for pink scrubs (firmly against uniform policy) was a stark contrast to Dana's five-foot-nothing, bright blonde bob and strictly gray scrubs - but they were undeniably perfect work partners.

Dana had previously been the dayshift charge nurse, but after the Pitt Fest shooting last year switched to night shift and only charges once or twice a week. That day had changed them all. Dana more so than others. The lawsuit she filed on a patient who assaulted her that same afternoon was still not resolved, and while Dana clearly still loved her job she had taken 2 months of leave before she felt ready to return. Hyacinth had certainly not escaped the after effects of the shooting. She was almost positive that she had started to miscarry while working that evening. Often wonders if she had noticed her symptoms earlier if she might not have miscarried, but isn’t sure she would change anything about her actions that day. How could she, when she knows everyone played an integral part in saving so many lives? Nevertheless, working a mass casualty and then having a D&C less than 24 hours later was bound to leave its mark.

"Hi Dana, sorry I'm a few minutes late. Had an eventful evening to say the least and got out the door a few minutes later than I wanted to which meant I got stuck in northbound traffic and -"

"Cinth, honey, you're fine. It's 1904. Most of the night shifters are just coming out onto the floor anyway." She said, eying her protege suspiciously. "Are you okay? You seem a little frazzled, in a way I haven't seen you since after your first code." Hyacinth really wished she was better at lying. Not that she wanted to lie to Dana, but no way in hell was she having this conversation right at the beginning of their shift.

"To be real with you I don't think that I am, but I am also not ready to have that conversation right now. We can talk later, I promise." Her mentor turned friend continued to look at her like she might fall apart at any second (which, to be fair, she very well might) and Hyacinth followed up with "Just... just let me dive into work for a little while. Focusing on somebody else's problems will help me get my brain settled so I can fill you in."

"Alright, I'll drop it for now. If you need to step away for a minute let me know and I'll cover your patients." Hyacinth nodded, knowing she would not be taking her up on that offer. 

They continued walking through the unit, passing by patients in hallway beds and doing their best to avoid eye contact with disgruntled family members. Some people seemed to think that nurses controlled bed assignments, and no amount of explaining could make them understand that nurses are also angry and stressed out about patients being stuck in the ER hallway for days on end. They did they best they could to make their hall patients comfortable, supplying eye masks and ear plugs, but nothing could change the fact that they were stuck in a room where the lights never truly dimmed and the alarm bells sounded all night. Not exactly a restful, healing environment. Turning the corner and walking towards the locker room, Dana turned to Hyacinth again, studied her paler than usual complexion and the bags under her eyes. 

"You're sure you aren't sick? You kind of look like shit. " she said, to which Hyacinth scoffed and replied,

"Physically I'm fine, not sick or anything like that. Just a lot going on at home and me realizing I need to make a big change and it needs to happen soon", she took a deep breath before continuing. “The only thing I feel ready to say right now is asking if I can come stay with you guys for a few days, just until I figure out what the fuck I am going to do with myself.” This caused Dana to stop to pull her aside and ask,

“Did something happen at home? Are you hurt?” Hyacinth watched Dana switch her brain into nurse mode - assessing her. Checking for obvious bruises or other signs that might give away a physical injury. Watching her breathe, even reaching out to feel the pulse in Hyacinth’s wrist. Your classic nursing doorway assessment. A skill all nurses master, being able to tell if your patient is fine, sick, or sick by just walking in the door.

“No - not... physically. I really will tell you everything later, but for now can we please just go get report so I can shift into Nurse Hyacinth for a few hours?” This alternate persona, Nurse Hyacinth, was fantastic at compartmentalization. No room to worry about your own problems when you’re standing between your patient and a one way ticket to a celestial discharge. Dana was aware of this, had helped her form those coping skills. The older woman gave her a look that practically screamed 'I am unhappy about this but willing to wait'. Hyacinth put her bag in her locker, glad that she seemed to be letting it go for now.

“Yeah, let’s go. I get it, even if I don't like it. We can talk when you’re ready, and you can stay for as long as you need.” Dana gave her wrist (where she was still counting a pulse) a supportive squeeze, and they turned to walk to their dayshift counterparts to get report for the evening. 

She really hates when nursing superstitions are correct. Turns out that asking for some work to throw yourself into activates the hospital gods, and not in a good way. Six hours and two rapid intubations later, Hyacinth was just now preparing her workstation for the night. The nurses station was always cluttered after dayshift left, and she liked to start her night off by getting rid of any extra supplies, throwing old report sheets (mostly scribbled on paper towels) in the shred bin, and giving the whole area a good sani-wipe bath. Now that her patient was finally stable, there was some time to sit and finish charting. Needing a caffeine fix, she makes herself a cup of shitty hospital coffee and gets to work.

Not 15 minutes had passed when she hears, “Hyacinth - ICU on line 1 for report on your patient in trauma 2!” the charge nurse, an older man named Jim, yelled from his desk across the unit. She sighs, knowing that she won’t be finishing her charing just yet.

“Thanks Jim!” Hyacinth replied before picking up the phone. “ER, this is Hyacinth.”

“Hi, this is Sara up on ICU. I am ready for report on the patient you are sending to 504.” She said curtly. Hyacinth rolled her eyes - very rarely did she have to give report to Sara but every time she did it was a hassle. Sara is a great ICU nurse. She also has no clue the shit ER nurses deal with on a daily basis. Hyacinth was not looking forward to having to tell her that no, she did not do a 2 RN skin check or label his IV lines. The patient is alive, intubated, well sedated, their blood pressure is no longer 60/dead, and they’re in a clean hospital gown. Really what more could she ask for?

“68 year old male, witnessed collapse this evening. Had about 30 minutes of CPR, started by the family and ending when we got ROSC following intubation. Extensive cardiac and respiratory history, he is generally non-compliant with his home medications. Initial blood pressures were very soft, now he is on 9 of levo and systolic is holding at 90. MAP between 65 and 68. 8-0 ET tube measures 25 at the teeth, OG secured on the right. Temp sensing foley in place. He’s got 2 peripheral IVs and a triple lumen right IJ. Currently on 50 of propofol for sedation.”

In a shocking turn of events, Sara just said “Fine. Bring him up.” and then hung up the phone. A little rude, but Hyacinth would take rude over a slew of questions she definitely did not have the answers to. She calls her trusty respiratory therapist, grabs a portable monitor, and prepares the patient for transport.

“Alright Jim, Dr. Abbot, we are taking trauma 2 upstairs!” She yells, making sure they knew she was going to be off the unit for a little while.

“Take your break when you’re done - I don’t want to see you for at least another hour.” Jim says as Hyacinth, along with respiratory, wheel the patient, his IV pump, and his ventilator upstairs.

25 minutes and one very tense handoff later Hyacinth is sitting in her car attempting to eat her lunch. Unfortunately now that she is no longer operating in nurse mode, she’s starting to feel anxious again. Having always defined herself as 'a bit of an anxious bitch' - Hyacinth is no stranger to anxiety. This is feeling more significant than past anxieties, knowing that her physical wellbeing might not be guaranteed if she doesn't take some action. 

In classic Dana timing, the blonde woman knocks on Hyacinth’s passenger window and looks expectedly at her. Hyacinth unlocks the door and attempts to prepare herself to hash out whatever the hell is happening in her brain right now. Dana does not waste any time, and starts to speak as soon as the car door opens. 

“It’s time. I told Jim that he can deal without both of us for a little while. What’s going on? You've got me worried.” Dana has turned sideways in her seat and is facing Hyacinth directly, while Hyacinth cannot bring herself to look up past her lap where she is wringing her hands. Taking a shaky but deep breath, she tries to find the words to tell Dana what was going on without activating Mama Bear Dana at the same time.

Realizing this is not a feasible task, Hyacinth makes herself start speaking. “I have to leave Jeremy. You know that things haven’t been the same since my first miscarriage, but I haven’t exactly been as detail oriented as I maybe should’ve been when you asked me how things were going.” She sneaks a glance up at Dana, who continues to watch her with an open expression but is clearly expecting some elaboration. “I have had 2 ectopic pregnancies since then. After each he has gotten meaner and more aggressive, and before work tonight when he told me he wanted to start trying again I freaked out. It’s only been a little more than 5 weeks since the most recent one and I’m not ready.” She can feel the tears starting to form and tries desperately to hold them in as she says “I wouldn’t call most of our uhm… encounters this year non-consensual but I definitely was not enthusiastic at the idea and he could tell. I told him that I wasn't ready and wanted to wait a little while longer and he screamed at me. Said some pretty awful things that I won’t be repeating right now. Then he essentially threatened that we would start trying again soon anyway and went to grab my arm. Thankfully this was happening as I was walking out the door for work so I just bolted to my car and got out, but I have nothing with me. Just what I have in my car, and I didn’t pack anything except the extra change of clothes I keep in here all the time." Saying this all out loud makes her anxiety worse, like she's being shoved into a box and pushed off a cliff. "I can’t go back. I probably should’ve left already but I just ... really wanted things to be different and was scared to do anything about it and we've been together for so long and I didn’t kn-” Dana cuts her off by leaning over the center console and pulling her into a hug, rubbing her shoulders and reassuring her.

“We'll figure it out. It’s okay. You can borrow whatever you need from me. Hell, we can even move you out after our shift while he’s at work if you’re up for it. Especially if we recruit Jack. Between your car, my car, and Abbot’s truck I bet we could get you out in one or two trips.” This is what finally does Hyacinth in, and she starts to sob into Dana’s shoulder.

“Can we really move me out today?” She says after a few minutes, taking the time to cry a bit before she tries to speak. “What about your family? Shouldn’t you make sure Benji and the girls are okay with some random nurse you work with all but moving in?” Hyacinth has met Dana’s family a few times, but hasn’t spent enough time with them to really know them.

“Absolutely. Benji will be happy to help, and the girls are both off at college right now. Even if they weren’t we have an extra room.” Feeling reassured enough for now, Hyacinth nods and Dana continues to speak. “You can fill Abbot in on as much or as little as you’re comfortable with, but I can guarantee you he will help. Not like Mohan lets the man sleep between shifts anyway,” she says while rolling her eyes. Hyacinth laughs a little bit at this, and pulls back to grab a wipe for her face.

“Okay, then let’s do it. Getting all my stuff out is a huge step and I think it would help my anxiety to have it done quickly.”

“Then we’ll do it. Jeremy is for sure working? I assume so because he’s a teacher and it’s a Wednesday in mid-September, but just double check his school district calendar to make sure he doesn’t have a secret half day or day off.” Hyacinth pulls out her phone and googles the calendar for the North Allegheny School District, where Jeremy is a 6th grade teacher. 

“Yeah, according to this it is a regular school day. He will be out of the house from about 0700 to 1530, maybe 4 o’clock.”

“Perfect. That's the plan then - our garage is big enough to store anything you don’t want in the guest room. Which is yours for the foreseeable future. In fact, I am going to insist that you for a minimum of 3 months while you find your footing and navigate the divorce process.”

“I'm not gonna argue with you on that. Thank you.” Hyacinth says, reaching over to give Dana another hug. “Hopefully you’ll still be offering me all that storage space when you see how many books we’re going to have to move.”

“You have shown me pictures of those floor to ceiling bookshelves you love so much - I know what I’m getting myself into. Maybe I’ll finally pick up a book for fun. Who knows?” Dana replies, pulling back from the hug to look Hyacinth in the eyes. “I have your back. We will get you through this.” She pauses, but then asks “is that ectopic why you had to take last minute leave in August? I could tell you were holding something back but you really stuck to you story so I let it go.” She had taken time off of work with very little notice, telling her managers that she had a family emergency that would require her attention for a full two weeks. Technically she hadn't lied, it was a family emergency. Just little more immediate family than she had let on in her very vague email.

“Yeah. Jeremy’s sister didn't have to have emergency surgery. I did. The ectopic ruptured and I had my right fallopian tube removed.” Hyacinth looks away from Dana’s sympathetic gaze, not wanting to cry again. She was feeling bad for not telling her, but knew Dana would support her anyway. “Jeremy didn’t want me to tell anyone, told me that it was my fault and that everyone else would think so too. Objectively I know that isn't true, but I was so scared and just wanted his support so I went with it. I’ve never been on good terms with my parents and this situation has made it even worse, I just wanted to feel like someone was in my corner. It felt important that he support me when even my own mom wouldn't.” Dana reaches out and places her hand on Hyacinth’s cheek and says,

“Cinth. Honey. If nothing else, I am in your corner. Always. I’m sorry you had to deal with that by yourself. Are you okay now? Recovering from surgery okay?”

“Yeah, my recovery has been relatively smooth. Other than being stuck at home for 2 weeks and being a little scared of Jeremy the whole time I haven't had any issues. I haven’t had a period since though, and I’m sure the first one will be rough. It was awful after my first ectopic in March, and that one didn't require emergency surgery so I can only assume this one will be worse. But I will cross that bridge when I come to it.” Dana pulls her in for another hug.

“I will support you through that too. Your room has a giant bathtub and there is no shortage of bath oils and bubble bath. I have multiple heating pads and more chocolate than I probably should, and I’ll send Benji out for anything else you want. Plus, I can always bribe a doc into writing you a prescription for zofran if the nausea gets too bad!” She says, laughing.

“I have been pocketing every oral zofran that patients have refused for years. I’ve got lots!” They both dissolve into laughter at this, and Hyacinth feels herself starting to walk back from the metaphorical cliff edge. That is - until Dana says,

“Our break is almost up. Why don’t we go in now, corner Abbot, come up with a game plan, and then dive back into the wonderful distraction that is working in an emergency room?”

Hyacinth replies “Sounds perfect and also terrible. Let’s do it.” As they walk back into the ER, she can't help but feel like she is catapulting herself right off that cliff. 

Abbot is not hard to find as Dana and Hyacinth walk back onto the floor. Hyacinth, feeling nervous, lets Dana take the lead.

“Jack!” She shouts, making the doctor turn his head. Dana generally calls him Abbot while on the clock, so using his first name certainly gets his attention. “Can we borrow you for a second?” She asks while directing Hyacinth into the empty family room. Jack quickly follows and shuts the door behind himself. He stands against the closed door and asks,

“What’s the matter? A patient?”

“Ah, no, not exactly.” Dana replies, looking at Hyacinth.

Deciding to just get it over with, she quickly says “I need to kind of… very emergently change my current living situation. Like ideally before 4pm. I hear you have a truck?” Hyacinth says, finally turning to look at Abbot. He seems to startle a bit before catching himself and saying,

“You heard correctly. I do in fact have a truck.” Abbot replies, giving her a long look before asking “Are you okay? Has someone at home been hurting you?”

“Not physically.” Hyacinth says.

“So if I asked the triage safety questions, what would your answer be? Do you feel safe at home? Is anyone trying to hurt you?”

“Jack - seriously?” Dana interrupts.

“No, Dana. It’s fine. We ask literally all our patients that, I can answer them too. No, doctor Abbot, I do not feel safe at home.” Hyacinth says, no longer able to look either of them in the eyes and instead focusing on the vague landscape painting on the wall near Abbot’s head.

“Alright then. We will get you out today. I will have to tell Samira that I am rescheduling our breakfast date and she’ll more than likely want to come help, are you okay with that?” Abbot asks.

“Yeah, that’s fine with me. Samira and I get along well whenever she picks up her occasional night shift.” Hyacinth says, thankful that Dr Abbot didn’t press her for more information and immediately offering to help.

“Alright then. Dana, please start a group text with all of us in it and send Hyacinth’s address. We will all meet there right after shift change and get you out.” He says, looking at Hyacinth who nods in affirmation. Abbot turns to leave, but before stepping out says “Thank you for speaking up. Taking the first step out of an abusive relationship is often the hardest part, and always the most dangerous. Thank you for trusting us with this.” Giving one last pointed look at Hyacinth, who is very near tears again, he leaves the room.

“Now that that’s settled, why don’t you go splash some cold water on your face and come out onto the floor when you’re ready. I’ll have a coffee with your name on it.” Dana says, guiding her out of the family room and directly towards the employee restroom.

Alone in the restroom, Hyacinth gives herself a generous 60 seconds to cry. Everything she knows is about to change, and nothing about the process was going to be easy. At least she has support. Dana and Jack both immediately offered to help, no questions asked. It felt good to have people be so unquestionably supportive - her parents could never. Hyacinth wasn't even sure she was going to tell them. She just wishes she could jump to the part where she is divorced, living in her own apartment, and never letting another man into her house unless she deems it okay. She's ready to be happy again, tired of feeling like she's dragging herself through life. Her allotted mental breakdown time comes to a close so she splashes some cold water on her face, pats it dry, and declares herself 'good enough' as she looks at her reflection. Stepping back out onto the floor, she puts her Nurse Hyacinth mask back on for a little while longer.

Before she knows it, it’s 0645 and Hyacinth is getting ready to flip her entire life upside down and inside out. She is doing her best to give Princess a quality report, but she knows her heart isn’t in it.

“Girl it’s okay - I know last night was busy. I can read. Go home, I’ve got it.” The other nurse says as Hyacinth tries and fails to make her brain produce simple sentences.

“Thanks Princess. I will go ahead and get out of here. Hope your day goes well!” Hyacinth says, gathering her emotional support water bottle and pens off her workstation. She sees Dana and walks over to her, feeling emotionally fragile and knowing she could use the company on the walk out to the car. Dana sees her coming and immediately pulls her into a hug. Jack watches this and walks over from the other side of the nurses station, giving Dana a subtle thumbs up to ask if everything is okay. She responds with a thumbs up of her own, but her face clearly has a different story to tell. Jack nods and turns to find Robby waiting for him.

“Everything okay?” Robby asks, eyeing Dana and Jack who are both very focused on Hyacinth.

“Yeah - we’ve got it handled. Let me sign out to you and you can take over.” Jack says, steering Robby away so Hyacinth could collect herself in relative private.

After a few moments Hyacinth pulls away from Dana, saying “Okay, let’s go. We need to start or I’m going to lose my nerve.” Dana nods, links their arms, and they walk out to their cars.

Robby

Robby had met Hyacinth in passing many times, and genuinely enjoyed his interactions with her. Always finding himself looking at her during shift change, but he chalked this up to the bright pink scrubs she always seemed to be wearing. She is clearly an incredible nurse as well and he respects her knowledge and hard work. Anytime he assumed a patient she had taken care of the charting was complete and efficient, all patient care done, vitals stable, and the room was spotless. In the 6 years she had been working in The Pitt (one as a nurse fellow, and now five on her own), he had only seen her leave work in tears once, right after her first code blue. Now, the witty, intelligent, capable woman who he was used to seeing was clearly struggling.

“What’s going on there?” Robby asks as he watches Dana walks out with the younger nurse, somehow managing to support Hyacinth while also being almost a foot shorter than her.

“Don’t worry too much about it. Dana’s got it pretty well in hand. Kid has made some hard but necessary choices and just needs a little extra support.” Jack says, trying to convey the seriousness of the situation without betraying Hyacinth’s trust.

“Alright, brother. If you say so.” Robby says, clearly not wanting to drop it but also realizing he won’t get anything more from Jack right now. “She’s a great nurse, It will be fun getting to work with her now that I’m switching to nights.” 

“Your first shift is next week, you ready? No inclinations for past-the-guard-rail roof trips?” Jack asks, knowing Robby has not worked nights regularly for over a decade now.

“Yes, I’ll be fine. I’m excited for a change and to get to know the rest of the night shift crew, and fuck if I’m not thankful it will mean I see far less of Gloria.” Robby chuckles, knowing he will struggle with the transition but also ready to work within the freedom night shift offers. 

“Whatever you say, man. I am headed out. See you on the dark side!” Jack heads to leave, making sure to grab his backpack on his way out.

Robby watches him go, feeling like he was missing a lot of the story. Hyacinth was clearly very upset with whatever she was dealing with, and Robby knows it’s good for her to have Dana and Jack in her corner. He decides then that when he starts nights next week he will be sure to keep an eye on her, ready to offer his support as well should she ask him for it.

What else would a good coworker do?

[sleepdeprivedl]

Feathers and Freedom (malleus x reader), part 3

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Another year passed. The last twelve months have been one of the most wonderful times in your life. It consisted of slipping out of your house to see your lover whilst also balancing the random odd jobs you’d do in the village. Most of the time it was working at the apothecary or tavern for a bit of extra coin to help support your family. It wasn’t much, but it helped for day-to-day needs.

That being said, your sister’s condition was worsening. A few extra coins made from serving beer no longer cut it. Of course, your grandfather had money saved, but that wouldn’t last forever. Which was why you’d come to your decision.

Trekking across the rolling fields, you made your way to the familiar edge of The Moors. The tall stones stood as imposing as ever, and the wind rustled through the leafy canopy. A whispered invitation. You drew in a deep breath, getting ready to call out for Malleus, only to stop as a large gust of wind battered against you. Malleus descended from the sky, landing softly on the ground before you, wings tucked neatly against his back.

“Malleus, I need to talk to you,” you said solemnly.

He picked up on your heavy mood immediately, gaze narrowing in concern. “MC. Is there something troubling you, Child of Man?”

“...I’m leaving.” You couldn’t quite meet his gaze as you spoke. It had been a hard decision, but it was something you had to do.

He didn’t answer right away, and you risked a glance at his face. Wrong move. He looked shocked, like he couldn’t quite believe what you’d just said. “...What?”

You took a deep breath. “I’m leaving. Soon. I’m going to work at the castle.”

“Why?” Thunder rumbled in the distance. Was there a storm coming? You shook off the random thought. Doesn’t matter.

“My sister’s condition has been worsening over the last couple of months…my family needs more money. My grandpa has some saved up, but…it’s not enough. It’ll run out soon, so I’m going to go work at the castle.”

He frowned as he listened to your words, obviously upset. He didn’t want you to leave. “Can’t you work in the village?” 

“I could, but the Queen is offering a more generous pay than can be found here. Apparently she wants someone who can make more…hearty meals than the fancy cuisine they currently offer since that’s what she ate in her childhood.” It was true. The Queen’s cook from when she was a child often made her more homey meals than what is typically found in court, and after being married to the King and moving here she’d found she quite missed it. So, she’d had someone go to the nearest village—which just so happened to be yours—to ask around for someone willing to take up the position. A bit of an odd request, but you supposed you’d do the same if you were in her shoes. Only eating fancy food all the time would probably drive you crazy after a while.

“...And you will not reconsider this decision?” Displeasure was etched across his face, though he didn’t seem like he was going to argue with you.

“...No. I’m sorry, Mal.” You sighed. “I would stay if I could, but my family needs my help. I can’t just sit around and do nothing.”

His expression soured even more, eyes downcast. “I see. I suppose this is farewell, then?” Another crack of thunder split the night, closer than the last one. The wind was beginning to pick up as well, and raindrops began to fall. One by one.

“Just for a little bit! I’ll still come and visit, I promise.” You took his hand in yours, trying to provide some sort of comfort. “Queen Leila is known for being kind, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if I missed a day every now and then.”

Malleus looked back at you, gauging the sincerity in your eyes. You held his gaze for several moments, communicating silently. “...I suppose it will be bearable. So long as you keep your promise and come back to me, my Child of Man.” He still wasn’t happy about it. Not at all. But, your family needed you and you said you’d visit. He could make do with that. Maybe.  Well, he’d have to find a way to cope…eventually. For now, he held you close, the storms of his inner turmoil bleeding outward and reflecting in the tumultuous sky. Yet, even as the thunder rolled and the wind whipped into a frenzy, you remained safe and untouched within his wings. You would come back to him. He was sure of it. Even if you had to leave for now, you’d be back soon. You wouldn’t break his heart, right?

a/n: a bit shorter than the other two parts but oh well. might be ooc again, creative writing is lowkey hard lol. I got mer-form jade tho so im happy about that :D now I have to save back up :(

[goodlucktai]

How would Draxum react to Gio being alive and present in the Good Timeline? Does he even remember there being another baby turtle back when the explosion happened during the turtles mutation?

Also! I hope your day has been great!

this also became a happy birthday gio fic <3

x

Draxum sips coffee from a mug that says You Float My Goat and observes the chaos unfolding before him like a land surveyor. 

The turtle lair has become something of a second home to Baron Draxum over the last couple of years. A reluctant, grudging second home—let him make that very clear. He was adopted despite his best efforts, digging in his heels and leaving claw marks behind as he was dragged along by the current. 

Likening the Hamatos to a tidal wave is putting it kindly. They are a catastrophic weather event just waiting to happen. But there was only so long a person could swim against the tide before they either drowned or accepted the new direction their life was going. Draxum half-drowned half a dozen times on the way here. 

He’s fairly certain that no one believes him when he complains about biweekly family dinner. He doesn’t even believe himself half the time. 

It’s hard to believe when he has taken to lingering, well past an acceptable time to make a beleaguered escape—like earlier, when the dessert and coffee came out, and no one asked if he was staying longer, they just poured him a cup. 

The flourless chocolate cake was rich without being overly sweet. Which was probably why one of the servings received a healthy scoop of whipped cream to top off the ganache, and why Giorgio endured a round of good-natured teasing from all sides with a straight face when that plate was set in front of him. 

Draxum is watching him now, the newest addition to their number. He’s sitting cross-legged on the floor of the den with his hands out in front of him, while Leonardo uses his hands to rewind multiple skeins of yarn into balls. He has said all of six words all evening, but it’s far from a standoffish silence, and it’s absorbed easily into his brother’s general mayhem. He’s watching Leo work like nothing more interesting exists on the planet, at least until Michelangelo plows into the room with a messy armful of his own art project for the purpose of parallel play. 

The tiny spotted turtle that Draxum had not had large hopes for. It was significantly weaker than its counterparts, and prone to sickness. He had even, he recalls with an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach he refuses to acknowledge or name, considered discarding it altogether once or twice. 

He saw the portal open as the lab folded in, he saw the spotted turtle vanish in a sharp cut of light. It was two times a lost cause. Draxum will never admit how many hours he spent searching the wreckage of his life’s work for the hopeless creature anyway.

And here the lost cause sits, broad-shouldered and solid, as if nothing has the power to move him. 

“Ugh,” Leo says abruptly, interrupting Mikey’s stream-of-consciousness chatter to project his voice across the room where the rest of his siblings are sitting around the island, “April, you are such an Aries.”

He almost certainly hasn’t been listening to April’s story, he had just decided she had gone uninterrupted for too long—the prerogative of obnoxious younger siblings, Draxum has learned against his will. Leo is facing the wrong way for anyone in the kitchen to see the little smile on his face that only comes from successfully stirring the pot. It’s a secret just for Mikey and Gio and—incidentally—Draxum.  

Their human sister whirls around to gape at the back of Leonardo’s head as if stunned by the audacity. 

“Coming from a GEMINI of all people,” she starts hotly. 

“Woah now,” Raphael says, lifting his hands, but it’s too late. Donatello has already lowered his phone. 

“What is that supposed to mean,” he says in a tone that suggests there is no right answer. 

“I’m a Pisces,” Mikey pipes up cheerfully, laying on his stomach and kicking his feet and getting glue seemingly everywhere but on the collage he’s making. He lifts a messy hand and pokes a magazine cutting to Gio’s cheek; the residual glue on his finger is enough to make it stick, a crooked pink star damp enough that lettering from the opposite side bleeds faintly through. Mikey giggles, and the sound of it settles neatly in Draxum’s heart like a bird returning to its nest. It must feel similar to Gio, because his face softens the same way. 

“I’m a Cancer,” he replies gamely. 

“What,” Leo says, not a question. “No you’re not,” he goes on, “because if you were a Cancer, your birthday would be, like, next week. We’re not prepared for that.”

Gio blinks at him, face giving nothing away. 

Leo says, “Gigi. Tell me it’s not next week.”

“It’s fine,” Gio says. “It’s not until the fourteenth.”

Mikey lets out a hysterical bark of laughter, quickly smothered by a glitter-covered hand. Because everyone in this family could sniff out a trainwreck three days before it happened, drawn to trouble like bees to honey, the other three have tuned into the conversation occurring on the living room floor, and it’s Raphael who says, “That’s today.”

Gio frowns, unconvinced. “Is it Monday already?”

“Okay, people, focus up,” April says, clapping her hands together, “we have less than four hours to pull off the best last-minute twentieth birthday party this town has ever seen. I need everyone to bring their A-game.”

“Oh, oh, we gotta go to that party store on 8th,” Mikey says, scrambling to free himself of paste and stickers and newspaper pulp. “They’re open till ten and they have piñatas!”

“Loving the energy, Michael,” Donnie says, “but if you touch me before washing your hands I will have no choice but to kill you and then myself and Georgathan’s party will be off to a rough start.”

“Wait, someone has to get Pops,” Raph realizes, as he picks Donnie up by the shell in one hand and Mikey in the other and holds them an arms length apart, “if he misses out on choosing Gio’s birthday cake he’ll never let it go.”

Leo uses Gio to push himself upright, leaning his weight on Gio’s shoulder while he maneuvers his forearm crutch into place. Gio supports him by sitting still and steady, unable to do much else with his hands still wound in blanket yarn. 

The slider points at him, eyes narrow and forbidding, mouth a firm line. 

“I’m forgiving you this once because you genuinely have no concept of time and one of us should have asked before now and added it to the family calendar. But next super important date you keep a secret, we’re fighting.”

“Noted,” Gio says solemnly. 

While his siblings hold court in the kitchen, he patiently works the yarn off his hands and twists it into a hank, setting it neatly out of the way on the pile of finished yarn balls. There’s no salvaging whatever Mikey was dreaming up, but Gio puts lids back on paints and twists glue caps closed. 

Of all the turtles, this one comes the closest to the vision Draxum had of them—soldiers. Powerful and resilient and obedient, doing what needed to be done, never talking out of turn. The runt of the litter, the one he had given up on for the most part, turned success story. 

It makes him unreasonably unhappy. 

“You’re not seriously going to eat more cake, are you?” Draxum says for lack of better thing to say. He doesn’t usually have to fill silence in the turtle lair. Silence is a critically endangered species here. “You had a piece at dinner, and half of Blue’s.”

“Birthday cake is different,” Giorgio says plainly, which means yes, he absolutely will. 

He isn’t wearing his gloves. There are pale scars on his palms, long-healed, that are too neat to be anything but intentional. The marks on his arms and shoulders are easier to look at because they, at least, are randomly-placed and incidental. All of them are little miseries no child should have had to live through. 

Least of all, Draxum thinks, a child of mine. 

“You know, your brothers have two birthdays each.” He doesn’t realize he’s going to say it until he does. “The birthdays that Splinter chose for them arbitrarily when they were infants, and the accurate dates I had recorded prior to their mutation. They have unilaterally decided their arbitrary birthdays are their real ones, and treat the dates I gave them as freebies. An excuse to make me buy them food and presents more than anything.”

Yoshi cackled when he got wind of the whole thing and encourages the behavior with glee. He calls it seventeen years of back due child support. 

Draxum does not say that he feels some small warmth when turtles show up at his door, uninvited and inconvenient but never unwanted. He wouldn’t hate to see Giorgio adopt the obnoxious tradition, but he doesn’t say that either.

What he does say is, “I can tell you when your second birthday is. I haven’t forgotten.” 

Gio stops what he’s doing, watching Draxum with dark unblinking eyes, totally implacable. 

What would he have been like, if he had been allowed to grow up with the others? Draxum knew him only briefly after his mutation, but he knew Giorgio to be a fussy baby, only ever happy when he could shelter next to his siblings. He cried easily, wanted to be held always. How much of that child would he have outgrown naturally? How much of that child never grew up at all?

What feels like an hour later, Gio says, “If you want.” As if it truly doesn’t matter how many birthdays he’s granted, even if that number is zero.

Give them an inch, and the Hamatos will flood your life with nonsense. You will never know another moment’s peace. You will forget, altogether, what it felt like to spend your days alone. No one is immune to or exempt from their nature. 

And Draxum, for better or worse, has been adopted. 

“Enough,” he says, setting his mug aside and standing at full height. The teenagers all stare at him owlishly. Draxum frowns at them for a moment longer, to be sure he has their attention, and says, “If we are doing this, we are doing it right. No one does fireworks like fire yokai. Michelangelo, April, you’re with me. We’ll pick up the Caseys on our way.”

“Explosion brigade,” April whoops, and bumps fists with Mikey, who is still very much in air jail.

“I think I should be in the explosion brigade?” Donnie interjects. 

“We want NYC to still be standing tomorrow, Tello,” Leo says patiently. He’s studying Draxum with a furrowed brow, gold eyes darting between him and Gio as if he’s looking for evidence of the conversation they had out of his earshot. “All good?” he asks his eldest brother, protective streak a mile wide to those who know what to look for. 

“All good,” Gio says, smiling at him. “You know, Casey Junior is a Leo,” he adds, entirely for the round of gasps he receives. 

“Isn’t that July too?” Mikey shrieks. 

“That little sneak!” April says, whipping her phone out to send a strongly-worded text. “He was sitting right there when we were planning the twins’ party and he said nothing. Gonna try to pull a fast one on me? I don’t think so, pal.”

“Nice try, throwing Junior under the bus, but we’re still getting you a piñata and a birthday cake and all the balloons these bozos can fit in the tank,” Raphael rumbles, nudging Gio’s shoulder with his elbow. 

Gio exhales, his familiar ghost of a laugh, that blink-and-you-miss-it good humor. It’s barely anything, but it always makes his little siblings glow with happiness to hear, like they’ve won something worth bragging about. 

For a brief moment, Gio looks back at Draxum. 

“I’d never turn down free cake,” he says. 

[many-gay-magpies]

i feel inclined to make a post about the time i was trying to write something in-depth about queerplatonic payneland/aromantic charles and how he and edwin would work out their feelings for each other in that scenario, and i DID end up writing a short queerplatonic payneland fic, but it was basically just me self-indulgently making them smooch aromantic style for 3000 words. the actual longer fic id planned to write exploring aromantic charles never came to fruition, because in the course of attempting to define the difference between romantic and platonic love for the purpose of writing about how CHARLES felt it differently, i realized i just. could not fucking tell the difference. at all. i made posts asking allo people what the difference was and their answers did not help me for shit.

i think, like, the conclusion i came to for my own purposes was that—charles's and edwin's feelings for each other were probably actually about the same? that is, edwin feels deep all-encompassing eternal love and affection for charles; he wants to stay with charles and keep him safe and make him smile and do cases and play board games with him forever; keep him as the most important person in his afterlife forever. then on top of that he wants to do stuff like kiss him and have sex with him and whatnot. and then charles feels all the same stuff, deep intense all-encompassing love and a desire to have edwin be His Person forever—AND he would really like to kiss edwin and probably also love having sex with him (alloaro charles, OR sex-favorable ace/demi charles who likes sex for the physical intimacy and connection more than anything). but edwin uses the societal definition of In Love to categorize/describe his feelings, naming them as explicitly romantic, while charles... has a very complicated relationship with the idea of romance, the idea of being In Love; he has never been IN LOVE with anyone, or ever thought he could be; he just knows edwin is His Person, and he wants that to be the case for as long as possible, and he also would really like to kiss him (and maybe do more than that). but there is some missing bridge between those two things labeled Romantic Love/Being In Love that he just does not have access to, with anyone. and because of that his feelings will forever be not enough.

and basically, i was swimming through all these thoughts and never felt like i found a way to write it that wouldn't feel like it was being dismissive of aromanticism by saying "youre all feeling the same thing actually and your labels dont matter". and also i kept wanting to bash my head in over romantic love as a societal construct. seriously even today im half convinced romantic love is a societal construct/intersection of other emotions human beings just slapped a label on for funsies and not an actual unique emotion. i feel a little bad for never writing that initial fic, and for the fact that most of my payneland fics these days categorize them explicitly as a reciprocal romantic relationship (where charles realizes/is fated to realize sooner or later Ah Yes I Am In Love With Edwin The Same Way Back Actually), but these thoughts and this interpretation still color pretty much everything i write/create about them: fundamentally, it does not matter whether their love is platonic, romantic, or fucking whatever in-between or on any other spot of the spectrum. what it is is huge, intense, fundamentally weird (affectionate) and codependent to a truly unhinged degree. edwin sat with charles and read to him, gave him a friend while he was dying and for every year after; charles went into literal hell to save edwin without a moment's hesitation. each of them could not possibly love the other any more than they already do. anything that changes from here on out is just a matter of perception.

anyway. it is currently five in the morning and i have not slept, and i feel like this is way more long-winded than it needs to be/not as concise or effectively-indicative of my point as it could be, but im releasing it out into the world anyway. i can come back tomorrow and add a more concise addendum if i need to. moral of the story is get aromantic about it 👍

(and also payneland are Best Friends first and foremost, always. everything else is secondary <3)

[towasdandelion]

Hi!! So, I was just wondering if I could request something? The prompt ahead is a bit angsty, so if you don’t wanna do it, you don’t have to!

———————————————————————————

Basically, how would the ghouls react if MC wanted to break up with them? Also, what be her reason to do so? I had some fluffy ideas, but then for some reason I wanted angst more :p Again, you don’t have to do it if you don’t wanna! But if you do, could you add Lucas, Kaito, Zenji, Towa, Haru, and Haku? I don’t know if you do specific character requests and that might be a bit much, so you can just choose a few from that list! Okay, bye now!!!

Hii! Sorry it takes a while for me to get the requests done recently (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ Angst you say? This is pretty sad (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠) Also yeah I do specific characters, and six is usually the limit! Anyways I hope you'll like it!

A few things:

I think breaking up over text is rather tactless but since I'm doing smaus let's just say the MC had trouble reaching them lately and not wanting to hide her feelings from them any longer, decides to first inform them through a text.

The reasons might not seem like much, but I feel like when things like that build up over time without being resolved (which MC tried, you wouldn't break up with them just like that would you (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠) ) they can feel really heavy.

Also this kinda turned out longer than expected oops.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒑 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

Featuring: Lucas, Kaito, Towa, Haru, Haku, Zenji

Lucas is doting. Always making sure you're alright, that you're safe and sound. At first, you appreciated someone checking on you like that. You could feel loved and cared for. But as the time went by, it started to feel a bit.. overbearing. You were doing everything in your power to live your life to the fullest even with the curse, but Luca worried. Always worried. When you can't take it anymore, he's a bit taken aback. He needs a moment to process your words and sadly, he has to admit there's something in it. He didn't even notice when things started to look this way. His intention was never to smother you with his care after all. As much as he'd want to, he won't try pressuring you into staying, instead giving you some time to consider everything once again. All he wishes for is a conversation in person. Of course he's sad and heartbroken. But you always come first...

Kaito is just a little insecure, right? Some complaints and whines here and there, comparing himself to others. With time, you found yourself feeling drained by his constant need of reassurance... You loved him, of course. But at this point, being by his side felt like someone was slowly sucking out the positive energy out of you. You probably already guessed, but he's not going to take the news very well. What do you mean too much? Eveyrone needs some reassurance from time to time, right? His realization comes with time. For now, he finds it hard to understand. He supports you and you support him. Why do you want to ruin that? Might actually beg you not to leave him. Sit him down and have a calm talk with him. It will help.

Towa's clingy way of being was something you always found cute about him. He always wanted to be next to you! And whenever he was, he was either holding you hand, clinging to your arm or just straight up tackle you with his hugs. It really was endearing, but his whiny side whenever you had to leave was starting to get to you, ultimately becoming your reason to break up with him. Like Kaito, he's not going to understand. And worse, he won't let go of you easily. Don't you like to feel loved, Dandelion? Why do you suddenly not want his closeness? And most importantly, why would you want break up just because of it? It will take a good while and a lot of conversations with Haru for him to understand properly. But even then, he still can't stand the situation he found himself in.

Haru is a busy man. His organization and hard work were admirable. You also found it cute how he would sometimes rope you into work when he didn't have time for a proper date. Unfortunately though, the situation started to repeat very often, with him calling you over mostly to help him with his workload... which led to your break up in the end. What's the point of being with someone if they don't even make time for you? Haru realizes his mistake the moment you point it out. He lost himself in his work so much that he ended up treating you like just another pair of helping hands, and he hates himself for it. As much as it hurts he won't hold a grudge against you, even if his actions were unintentional. He will leave you alone for the time being, taking this time to reflect on his actions before even asking you to meet you.

Haku always found a way to tease and rile you up. He relished in the feeling of being the one making you squirm under his gaze alone. But somewhere along the way, you started to doubt his intentions.. His teasing was relentless at times, not giving up until he gets the reaction he wanted, forgetting about how you feel in the process. With heavy heart, you decided to end this. Haku is caught off guard. Break up, really? Just because he loves teasing you? Something is not right. It's not until you explain it to him properly that he finally understands what went wrong. He made you feel like this relationship was just a game, and he can't help but feel disappointed with himself. He took it too far and now he needs to face it. Might try to get you to talk it out first, but then decides to simply give you some time. Maybe you'll change your mind? Maybe all you need is a conversation heart to heart.

Being with Zenji meant being on a lookout for inspiration more often than not, and getting used to his somewhat cryptic way of speaking that sometimes happened. You always enjoyed helping him, or even being the source of inspiration itself. But as time passed, you couldn't help but feel the pressure whenever he fretted over lack of ideas for the next part of his story. It's like he got stuck on one thing, and refused to do anything else until he found the perfect words. As much as you loved him, you couldn't stand it anymore. Zenji wasn't expecting this, but it successfully snaps him out of this weird trance. He's almost crushed by this wave of sadness. How could he lose himself like this? Writing and playing are things he loves the most, but none of this matters if you aren't by his side. He won't try to change your mind forcibly if that's what you really want, but at least let him talk to you in person.