#both boys have good hearts and how could they not just look at their parents

[sxcretricciardo]

not the same

•

The sun is shining brightly over the go-karting track, a perfect day for racing. The smell of burning rubber, the distant hum of engines revving, and the lively chatter of parents fill the air. You stand beside Max, watching your little boy, Leo, zip around the track with a focused expression that’s eerily similar to Max’s when he's behind the wheel. Leo's been karting since he could walk, and every time he hits the track, it’s like watching a younger version of Max, pure talent and determination radiating from him.

Max is beaming, pride visible in his eyes as he watches Leo expertly navigate the course. His hand rests on the small of your back, and you lean into him, feeling the excitement of the race. But today isn’t just any day. Jos, Max’s father, has come to watch his grandson for the first time. It’s a big moment, both for Leo and for Max, who has a complicated history with his dad.

The final lap is underway, and Leo is in second place. You can see how hard he’s pushing, how badly he wants that win. His little hands are gripping the steering wheel tightly, his helmet bobbing as he leans into each curve. But the kid in first place has just a little more speed, and as they cross the finish line, Leo’s kart comes in second.

You’re about to cheer for Leo anyway—second place is still amazing for a four-year-old—but before you can, you notice the tension stiffening Max beside you. His jaw clenches, and his eyes narrow. Jos is walking over to Leo’s kart, and you can feel the unease rolling off Max in waves.

Leo pulls off his helmet, his brown curls damp with sweat, and looks up at his grandfather, expecting praise or at least a smile. But Jos doesn’t offer either. Instead, his face is hard, disappointed.

“What happened out there?” Jos says, his voice low and sharp, just loud enough for Leo to hear.

Leo’s small face falls, his bright eyes clouding with confusion. He’s only four, too young to understand the weight behind the words, but he knows enough to feel the sting.

“I—I tried, Grandpa…” Leo stammers, looking down at his feet, his tiny hands fiddling nervously with his gloves. “I tried really hard…”

“You tried? That’s not good enough,” Jos snaps. “Your father wouldn’t settle for second place at your age. You need to push harder, be better.”

You feel your heart twist as Leo’s shoulders slump, his little body sinking under the weight of his grandfather’s disappointment. Before you can step in, Max is already there, his tall frame looming over his father protectively.

“Dad,” Max’s voice is low and dangerous, “back off.”

Jos straightens, his eyes narrowing as he looks at Max. “He needs to learn. You didn’t get to where you are by accepting second place, Max.”

“This isn’t about me, and it sure as hell isn’t about you,” Max says, stepping closer to his father, his hand on Leo’s shoulder now. “He’s *four*. He’s doing amazing, and I’m proud of him. You don’t get to tear him down the way you did with me.”

Leo looks up at Max, his big blue eyes—so much like his father’s—filled with uncertainty. “Daddy, I—”

Max kneels down in front of Leo, cutting off his words gently. “You did great today, Leo. You were fast, you were smart, and I’m so proud of you. It doesn’t matter if you came in second. What matters is that you gave it everything.”

Leo’s face brightens slightly, reassured by Max’s words. But Jos isn’t done.

“You’re too soft on him, Max. He needs to learn how to win, not just be content with second place. If you keep coddling him—”

“I’m not coddling him,” Max snaps, standing up again to face his father. His voice is colder now, angrier. “I’m teaching him that it’s okay to enjoy racing, that he doesn’t have to be perfect every time. He’s not me, Dad. And I won’t let you do to him what you did to me.”

Jos glares at Max, his expression hardening. “I made you a champion.”

“No,” Max says quietly, but with steel in his voice. “You made me scared of failing. I won’t let Leo feel that. He’s going to race because he loves it, not because he’s afraid of disappointing you.”

The tension between father and son crackles in the air, the years of unresolved resentment bubbling up to the surface. You step forward, placing a hand on Max’s arm, grounding him. You know how much it took for him to confront Jos like this, how deep those scars run.

Jos opens his mouth to argue, but then he looks at Leo, who’s clinging to Max’s leg, wide-eyed and unsure. Something shifts in Jos’s expression, a flicker of regret maybe, but it’s quickly masked by his usual stern demeanor.

“This is a mistake,” Jos mutters, shaking his head before turning away and walking off without another word.

Max lets out a long breath, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. But when he looks down at Leo, his expression softens immediately. He crouches down again, pulling Leo into a hug.

“You did awesome today, buddy. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, okay?”

Leo nods against his father’s chest, his small arms wrapping tightly around Max. “Okay, Daddy. I just want to be fast like you.”

Max chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to the top of Leo’s head. “You already are, kiddo.”

You kneel beside them, wrapping your arms around both of them, feeling the warmth and love in the moment, despite the lingering tension from Jos’s words.

Max meets your eyes over Leo’s head, and you can see the mixture of emotions there—anger, protectiveness, but most of all, a deep love for the family he’s built with you.

“He’s not going to grow up the way I did,” Max says softly, more to himself than to you, but you nod in agreement, squeezing his hand. “He’s going to grow up knowing he’s enough, no matter what.”

And in that moment, surrounded by the sound of engines still roaring on the track, you know that Max is right. Your little boy is loved, and that’s what matters most.

[doctorbrown]

Hey! Rewatching animated series made me realise that Jules might be a papa's boy. What do you think? Any hcs of them??? I genuenly love reading your posts!

Hi!! First off aaaa thank you for popping by and the interactions and questions and liking my stuff—I appreciate it immensely and I'm honoured to hear you enjoy reading my stuff!

Second, okay—I've got lots of headcanons about the boys and I will definitely share some. I adore them immensely and I love how much of their parents you can see passed down to them while they're still doing their own thing.

To start, Jules is absolutely a papa's boy. He's his father's son, there's no question about it, and Doc is one of his greatest role models. While Verne absolutely loves his father and enjoys getting involved in Doc's projects when he can and wants his attention and love too (Doc loves his boys equally, of course, avoiding any shows of favouritism), he's very much a mama's boy. Verne is Clara's son through-and-through and you see that so much in their curiosity, their quick, sometimes snappish wit, and their hot temper. Clara would be the first out of them to engage in a confrontation, as would Verne.

However, one of the big exceptions is when some of the other kids are talking shit and saying nasty things about Doc, Clara, or one of the boys; both of them will jump in a heartbeat to defend their family—and it really annoys them because there are so many great and amazing things their father has done in the field of science that the world will never know about because they're related to the big family secret. They only wish they could rub it in the faces of their classmates so they'll stop calling their family weird and crazy and all manner of other things.

Jules feels it a little more intensely than Verne, because of the two brothers, Jules is the first one to be likened to his father and that doesn't spare him any mockery from his peers.

Both of Doc's sons are exceptionally brilliant, far beyond the level of their peers—the apple doesn't fall far from the tree—but Jules, like Doc, leans much more into the intellectual aspects of life over the emotional (unlike Verne, who lives guided/influenced more by his heart) and is often flaunting his intelligence even when he doesn't mean to. He enjoys learning and will lose himself in whatever new topic he's studying or project he's working on. Like Doc, Jules is on the path to fast-track his life.

However, unlike his father (and even Verne), Jules doesn't have quite the same level of self-confidence for himself that gets him to be more loud and boisterous. His temperament is also much more like Clara's, as Jules isn't as obvious with his feelings, nor is he extremely quick to share them. He's far more cool-headed and relaxed than Doc or Verne. Jules also cares far more about what people think of him, his family, and places a very high value on his intellect, fearing that he'll somehow be seen as lesser if he can't live up to his own standards. Clara and Doc never push him to do things he doesn't want to do—they're always encouraging the boys to pursue whatever it is that makes them happy, whether it's in the sciences or not—or (they hope) make him feel like he has exceptionally large shoes to fill, but Jules has it in his head that he's almost expected to be like his father and that, somehow, he'll disappoint them if he isn't.

Verne, however, lives on the opposite end of the spectrum, letting his heart lead and willing to go wherever he wants, even if he makes a whole slew of mistakes along the way. Confidence is something he grows up to have in spades, especially when he's more certain of himself and where he wants to be. Verne's the kid who might get into a fight trying to defend somebody and his teachers might all think he's just a little troublemaking punk, but other than a few incidents on record, Verne's a fine student with exceptionally high marks.

Verne is a little more calculating with when he lets his intelligence show. In a way, he learns to weaponise it, drawing on everything he's learned from his brilliant parents when it's necessary to do so. He keeps his exam grades a secret in school because while he doesn't want to lie about it per se, he doesn't want his intelligence to become one of his defining features and, really, it's nobody's business. Verne fits more of the picture you'd have of the average kid/teenager. He gets into trouble like it's his job, he likes to play pranks, stay out late, he's got a sharp tongue, he begs Marty to teach him how to skateboard or rent scary movies for him and his friends to watch because they're too young, all of that.

Their personalities clash quite a bit and both of them think it's fun, as siblings to, to try and get under the other's skin and drive them crazy. Sometimes, there's a little sibling rivalry going on—they'd even fought about which one of them their parents loved better. Their arguments got heated enough to the point where they needed Doc and Clara to step in and intervene and say they're being ridiculous, that they don't love one over the other.

But I got a little rambly and sidetracked so more on Jules absolutely being a papa's boy (I hope)—

He was the first kid, so Doc absolutely doted on him. I think Jules was also a little afraid when he was younger that getting a little brother meant that his parents weren't going to love him anymore; Doc and Clara noticed that he was acting strangely and went to great lengths to assure their young boy that they were going to love him just the same. He warmed up to Verne relatively quickly. It still took a little time.

Jules, whenever he was having problems, would typically go seek out his father for advice; he was more comfortable around him. Jules also really loves the way Doc explains things; for a little while, when he was younger, he tried to mimic Doc in the grandiose and enthusiastic way he could talk about anything, especially the stories about his life or the lessons he was teaching, but he never could quite nail that because, for him, it felt awkward and unnatural. Doc noticed this pretty quickly and it was pretty comforting for him to hear that he doesn't need to act like anyone else; he just needs to be himself. What did feel natural was learning how to approach things from a more logical perspective, just like his dad did.

Doc is one of Jules' role models, no question. He's so proud and awed and impressed by his dad and he (and Verne too, tbh) considers himself lucky to be Emmett Brown's son. Even if it's difficult some days.

Both boys spent a lot of time hanging around (when they were allowed) near Doc's workspace or helping out in small ways with building the Time Train. Verne enjoyed the science parts of it to an extent, but he was more excited to be involved than anything else. Jules always had a dozen questions or more ready to throw at his father while they were working and Doc would answer them with as much detail as was appropriate to at the time.

I also see Jules following somewhat in Doc's footsteps and pursuing a career in the sciences, however I can see him leaning more towards medical sciences, just wanting to help people. Who knows; like his dad, he might make a breakthrough in his field someday—

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 !! ❞

❝ WHEN YOUR CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND OFFERS TO TEACH YOU HOW TO LOVE, HOW CAN YOU SAY NO ?? ❞

✧ pairing: college student!yuji itadori x f!reader

✧ summary: yuji itadori has been your best friend since you were kids, and when he offers you to teach you how to fuck, you don't expect him to be able to find his way into your heart too.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, aged up characters (don't like? don't read), childhood best friends to fwb to lovers, college au! (no curses), reader is the same age as yuji (both 20s), grew up as neighbors, mutual pining, nobara playing cupid, jealous!yuji, yuji is so golden retriever bf, nightmares, mentions of parental death via car crash (yuji), adoptive dad nanamin :), nipple play, oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), semi public sex (under a blanket with sleeping friends nearby), sex (p in v), creampie, swearing, fanart by unknown artist (found on pinterest, pls let me know if you know the og artist so i can credit)

✧ wc: 13,544

✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 5 has been sold to two anons!

“You want me to teach you?” 

The words left your best friend’s lips nonchalantly as if he was asking you if you wanted him to teach you how to ride a bike. 

But that’s not what he was offering to have you ride—

“Yuji,” you say slowly, “what are you saying? Do you even know what you’re saying?” 

Yuji Itadori was dense, but you knew he was far from stupid. You learned that in third grade when he punched a bully that had been picking on you, the final straw being when he had tripped you, causing you to skin your knee. Before you could even well any tears up in your eyes, you heard a thwack and a yelp as Yuji had laid the boy out on the playground. You stared at Yuji, as he offered you his other hand to help you to your feet, as your eyes slid from him to your bully. 

Yuji knelt down, carrying you on his back to the nurse’s office, “but Yuji, what about him? We left him—“ 

And he set you down outside the nurse’s office — and he only smiled that wide smile he had always reserved for you, “Don’t worry — I made sure no one was looking.” 

But now, you were beginning to doubt his sanity, rather than his intelligence — “I know what I’m saying,” he chuckles, trademark smile on his lips, “I’m just offering you the chance to practice,” 

“This isn’t practicing a sport or test—you’re offering,” you shift on your bed, while Yuji lounges on the floor, back against the bottom of your bed, “you’re offering to sleep with me, Yuji,” he leans his head on your bed, looking up at you at way, your face upside in his vision. 

“I know, I know, but it’s not a big deal is it?” he’s acting so nonchalant you wonder if one of his teammates had hit him hard in the head during practice, “we’ve had all our firsts together,” 

You scoff, “That was like our first steps, first day of school, first drink—“ 

“First kiss—“ he interrupts, and your face burns at the memory — a preadolescent game gone wrong that ended up with you and Yuji sharing your first kiss when you were teens. 

“That wasn’t real,” you wave him off, crossing your arms, “and this isn’t just a kiss for a game—this could change our friendship—“ 

“It won’t, if we don’t let it,” his gaze is more serious than you’ve ever seen Yuji be — not when he was usually all wide smiles and enthusiasm, “it’s us, we can get through it, and we don’t have to let it get weird right?” 

You chew on your lip, “Yuji, what do you get out of it?” And he’s tilting his head at your question— “I mean you don’t have to do this — just because I’m insecure because I don’t have experience,” you mumble. 

And that’s how the conversation had started — your complaints about your friends talking about their boyfriends, exes, and hookups, while you just nodded along — far too aware that you hadn’t even had a proper kiss, much less sex. And now you had found yourself here. 

“Look,” he slides up to sit on your bed, a good distance away from you, his eyes finding yours — warm hazel that felt as if it was drizzling over your skin wherever his gaze traveled, “I want your first time to be safe. I don’t want you to just hook up with someone and something bad to happen because you can’t say no — with me,” he clenched his hand into a fist holding his other hand flat as he gently hit his fist against it, “you can tell me to stop and if I somehow don’t or don’t hear you, punch me,” 

You snort, “Yuji,” he’s shaking his head. 

“I’m serious, I want you to be safe,” and you’re fidgeting with your fingers in your lap — this was Yuji, Yuji — you couldn’t say you hadn’t noticed how well he had grown up. Not when all of your friends drooled over him — especially with how liked he was — by everyone. 

“What if I lose you?” And he chuckles, as he breaches your personal space and his hand brushes yours. 

“You won’t, ever. I promise,” and your breath catches — many millions of times had Yuji touched you throughout your lives — an arm over over your shoulder, a hug, even holding your hand through crowds during festivals — but a simple brush of his fingers against yours had your heart rattling against its bony enclosure, begging for you to let it out, “what do ya think?” 

And you’re thinking — this would be the best outcome — you weren’t one to hook up with a stranger and you were burnt out on dead end dating app conversations, and to have your first time with someone close, someone you knew — it would be ideal. 

“Are you sure?” And his lips curl into a soft smile, leaning closer, as his fingers gently brush against your locks. 

“Would I be here like this if I wasn’t?” his breath warms your lips, as his fingers skim your cheek, “is this okay?” 

You nod wordlessly, unable to find the words to even reply — you had never thought of this situation would ever happen — especially like this. You lean against his hand, calloused from his practices, but as gentle as it always was. 

“We can take it as slow as you need,” he murmurs, as he’s even closer now, your eyes fluttering shut, only for his lips to graze your forehead. You pause at the featherlight touch — wondering if it actually happened when your eyes open to find his, “no need to rush, right?” He smiles, as he gets to his feet, “are we still on for tomorrow’s study session?” 

“Of course,” 

He scratches the back of his head, “Good because I still don’t understand math or why I need it, but unfortunately, I still have to pass,” he grabs his bag, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he offers a smile before he’s gone. 

And you’re left sitting on your bed, the warmth of his touch still on your skin, wondering what the fuck just even happened. 

“Yuji, you just have to solve for x,” you sigh, explaining the problem for the billionth time, as his pen waves back forth between two fingers, “it’s simple,” 

Your weekly study sessions with Yuji were a constant throughout your life, though more for Yuji than you. Yuji is very intelligent, despite his demeanor in class where it felt as if there was a perpetual question mark over his head — he just learned by seeing and then doing. And the repetition helped you all the same. But you had never felt so conscious sitting next to the boy you called your best friend. 

“Maybe to you, but I don’t why math has to involve letters,” he wrinkled his nose at the problem, sighing, as he twists the pen around his hand, and your eyes catch the movement — you didn’t know how the little boy’s whose hands you used to hold had gotten so big now — calloused from his practices, but so soft against your skin,  “is something interesting about my hands?” 

Your eyes snap up to meet his, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “No, just, uh, impressed that you can twist the pen around your hand like that,” 

“Oh, that?” he’s as unfazed as usual, leaning back a little, “that’s easy. I could show you if you want,” 

“It’s fine,” and you’re trying to focus back on the problem, when you find him still staring, “what is it?” 

“If you wanted to hold my hand, you just had to ask,” his fingers graze yours, with enough time for you to pull away, before his fingers lace with yours, “and we can do more if you want?” 

This was crazy — it was probably a mistake, but — as his touch made your heart flutter, warm rolling in waves that erupted into butterflies in your stomach — why weren’t you pulling away? 

“What does more entail?” and he inches a little closer, his breath warming your lips, “but you still haven’t gotten this problem down, are you just trying to get out of studying?” 

A chuckle on his lips, “Maybe I’m just looking for the right motivation, so how about we make a deal?” He moves over, spreading his legs apart, and pats the floor in front of you — for each question I get right, I get a kiss,”

And why you agreed to this, you really didn’t have words—but now you were sat between his legs, nearly in his lap, as he leaned forward — his chest against your back as his chin brushed your shoulder and his cheek brushed against your own, breath warming your neck — trying to get a better look at the math problem. His arm was wrapped around your side as his pen scratched against the scrap paper, trying to solve the problem. You bit your lip, trying your best not to glance at him, but you spot his wrinkled brow out of the corner of his lip and the tip of his tongue poking ever so slightly out of his mouth— and your lips curled, he still had that habit from when you were kids. 

“There, I think I solved it,” he murmurs, and you have to hold back a shiver at the words rumbled against your ear, “is it right?” 

And god, you could barely think, much less do math, but as you glance over the question and answer — he’s got it right.  

Fuck. 

“It is,” you say softly, “is all you need some motivation? Because I would have just promised I would go to see the next Human Earthworm movie,” 

He chuckles, his lips nearly against your ear, as his hand gently traces your jaw, “I’d like that, but I think i rather have what I was promised, as long as you’re still okay with that,” 

Your breath hitches, as you follow his lead, rough pads still so gentle against your cheek, as your eyes find his, but you don’t find his usual doe eyes — but instead find pools of lust threatening to drag you under. Although from the way your lips part and eyes flutter shut, perhaps he had you underwater for far longer than you even knew. 

His lips graze yours — it’s barely a kiss, a peck maybe — as he does his best to ease you in. You didn’t know lips could be so soft — meeting again and again, stealing logic from your mind and breath from your lungs. 

“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, not even a breath away from your lips. You’re nearly dizzy, mind reeling from his touch, heart jumping at his thumb rubbing lightly against your cheek. 

“I am, just a little strange to be kissing, much less you,” and his brow knits together, “but not bad at all,” you add, and he chuckles, his fingers grazing your cheek firmer, as he leans in again, “we said one kiss—“ 

“Do you really want to stop now?” he’s murmuring, and your noses bump against each other. 

Your lips find his again and now you can taste the sour candy he had stolen from you, but an overwhelming sweetness overrides it, and your hand brushes against his cheek, the other finding purchase on his chest.

“Is that okay?” You murmur, as you lips part, the two of you catching your breath, your shared pants filling the silence, your cheeks burning as your eyes avert from his, “I don’t know—“ 

“You’re fine, don’t worry about it,” a small chuckle on his lips, fingers cupping your chin to guide your gaze back to his — a subtle heat that makes your insides turn to molasses, sticky and sweet and far too warm, “just do what feels right, ok?” 

And his lips find yours again, gently as he did the first time, but more passion behind it, swallowing your quiet murmur of his name with ease. Your lips move against his just as his did — you try to push aside the thoughts of whether you were doing this right. But the slight brush of his teeth against your bottom lip makes you forget too with a gasp. 

He pulls away with a grin on his lips, “Sorry, couldn’t resist,” and his lips are kissed red, your thumb brushed against his swollen lips, “don’t tempt me more,” 

“You’re the one who started this, shouldn’t you take some responsibility, Yu?” your lips graze his cheek, curling as a rosy flush settles over his cheekbones, “nothing to say?” 

“You’re making it hard for me to hold back,” and he’s burying his face in the side of your neck, making you shiver, as he pulls you even closer, arms around your waist, “I don’t want to rush you,” 

Cute, you think before you even think, and yet the way his face is hidden away in your neck, breath warming your neck makes your body flush, and when have you ever thought of Yuji as cute? And yet you couldn’t remember a time that he made your heart race either. 

His lips press a small kiss to your neck, drawing a yelp from your lips, “Yuji—“ he’s nosing the hollow of your throat, “ah, you’re teasing me,” you whine, and he’s lifting his gaze back to yours, heavy with want, a want that leaves you bereft of any semblance of sense. 

“You started it,” he murmurs, before he finds your lips in another kiss — this time it’s a slow heat, languid as it threatens to burn both of you alive, flames licking at the edges of your reason. And his phone goes off — a reminder for practice that he groans at, “I should go. I have to go run laps,” 

“Now?” And he’s slowly disentangling himself from you, the absence of his touch lingers, the heat ebbing, “don’t you usually practice in the mornings?” You get to your feet slowly as well, handing him his math notebook, and it occurs to you when you spot the puddles outside, “it was too wet,” 

And he nods, scratching the back of his head, as the two of you walk out into your apartment’s living space, “and I forgot my protein shake—“ you head over to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door and pulling out his shake, and he blinks, “how—“ 

“You did the same thing last week, so I just bought a pack for you,” and his lips curl as he walks over and takes the bottle from your hand, fingers brushing — and even that much alight a flutter of nerves through your body. 

“Thanks,” he grins, and you nod. 

“Of course, I thought it just made sense since you come here every week—” you turn to shut the refrigerator, before turning back, only to find him stepping a bit closer, “Yu—“ 

“I almost forgot, one more lesson,” and he’s leaning close, and your breath catches in your throat, as his lips brush yours, fingers tracing the swell of your cheek, “a kiss goodbye,” and he parts, a brush of his fingers against yours, “I’ll text you later,” and he’s gone in a flash. 

Your left, fingertips touching your lips, a questioning lingering as he left — whether these feelings blooming in your chest were just from the kiss, or something more. 

But you glance at your phone — a text from Yuji: 

Golden Retriever Bestie: thanks for the drink again :)

You lock the screen — but you couldn’t hope for more, right? Not when this was started with the intention of stopping. But why—as you laid back into bed, staring up at your ceiling in the same room the two of you had spent the last two years watching movies or studying in, eyes squeezing shut—

Why did you still want more? 

When did Yuji Itadori fall in love with you? It would probably be easier for him to list the moments he hadn’t fallen for you — but the earliest he can remember was when he had hurt himself climbing a tree in the schoolyard, falling from the branch he had made it to. You had been watching him the whole time, telling him to come down, and when he fell, you were at his side. His vision was a little blurry but when it cleared, he saw you knelt above him, big tears leaving your eyes. And when he came to, you hugged him tight, before helping him to the nurse’s. You had even insisted on bandaging his cuts, not letting the nurse do so. 

And that’s when he knew — he knew he always wanted to wake to you beside him. 

“You what?” Nobara scoffed at him, as she held up another of her new purchases in front of her while looking in her full length mirror, “so instead of asking her out and confession this pathetic crush—“ 

“Pathetic is kinda harsh, Kugisaki—“ 

“It’s been over a decade — your one sided feelings is now in secondary school — it’s officially pathetic,” she hangs up the new leather jacket she bought in her closet, before turning to Yuji, “so instead of confessing, you asked her to be your friends with benefits—“ 

“That’s not exactly—“ she cuts him off with a look, “ok that’s kind of what I did,” he shakes his head, “she was venting about how she never had her first kiss and words started coming out of my mouth and wouldn’t stop—“ 

“Not the first time that’s happened to you is it?” And Yuji glares at her through the mirror, “what? You came to me instead of Fushiguro because you wanted a pretty girl’s opinion right?” 

“I said girl, nothing about—“ it was her turn to glare at him, “alright, alright — what do I do now? I want to tell her I like her, but if I do, I might seem like a—“ 

“A creep? A weirdo? A pervert?” 

“I was gonna say liar, but those too,” he rubbed a hand down his face, “what do I do?” 

She sighs, tucking a strand of her dyed hair behind her ear, “the only thing to do in situation like this,” 

“Tell the truth?” And she scoffs. 

“No, of course not, just use this time to make her fall for you, but that means you’ll have to use this agreement to your advantage,” she hums, “she said she wanted more experience right?” And Yuji nods, “who says it has to just be making out and sex?” 

“You want to go on a date? Fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you turn the heat of your burner down, hoping you hadn’t completely burned your omelet now as you flipped it, “I thought this was just supposed to be for the more…physical sides of things,” your cheeks burned. 

God, what the fuck. 

“I mean part of gaining experience is learning how to date, right?” And you’re placing your slightly burned omelet in the plate, as you wipe your hands off with your dishcloth, “we could go to an arcade, maybe catch a movie,” 

“Human Earthworm 4?” And you hear him chuckle over the line, and the sound makes your lips curl — it always felt like an accomplishment making him laugh, but even more so now.  

“We don’t have to—“ 

“I don’t mind,” you cut him off, and you never did — you just loved to tease him, as you always did, “they’ve grown on me,” and you didn’t know there was more room for Yuji to grow on you, you thought his roots had already went far and deep, tangled around every inch of yourself and your mind, even your heart — but now—

“Does 2 PM work? I’ll come by and pick you up from your place,” and you didn’t know where it would go but— 

“Sounds perfect,”  he had found his way into a place you never thought anyone would find themselves in. — and as he hung up, biting your bottom lip—

And it seemed he was here to stay. 

“You’re such a cheater,” you glared at Yuji as he won for the tenth time at the boxing game — hitting the max score every time, “tell me what the trick is,” 

“You know I’m strong,” Yuji gapes,  holding his arm, “how would I cheat?” And you’re pouting, crossing your arms. 

“You’re cheating by being you,” and Yuji has to bite back his smile — you were being so cute — but he knows saying that will earn him a punch in the shoulder harder than you gave the punching bag on the machine, “now you have to buy me an ice cream,” 

“For?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“For being a cheater,” and he can’t help the chuckle that leaves his lips that earns him a bunch of slaps to his arm, before he’s wrapping that same arm around your waist, your complaints chased away by a gasp, “what—“ 

“I was going to buy you anything you wanted anyway, it is a date after all,” he smiles, and you stammer, but you don’t pull away, “what flavor do you want?” After you tell him, he goes off to the concession to buy you both some ice cream, and when he finds you at a table, he sees you’re not alone. His lips are a tight line, as he finds a guy leaning against the booth you sat in, clearly flirting with you, your back to Yuji so he can’t see your face. 

He finds his way back to you, his hand brushes your shoulder gently, “is everything okay?” He asks you, meeting your gaze without regard for the stranger — and he’s glad he did, because he spots your pursed lips and darting eyes that told him everything he needed to know, “you need something?” He asks the guy, a friendly smile on his lips. 

“Not from you,” the guy scoffs, “I was talking to—“ 

“Well, you’re talking to me now, not my date, so—“ and you’re leaning into Yuji, “you need something or not?” And the guy grumbles something under his breath before slinking away, and Yuji’s sliding in beside you when you move over, “you okay?” 

“Yeah, he wouldn’t leave,” you sigh, shaking your head, “sorry—“ 

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he murmurs, as he hands you your ice cream, “as long as you’re okay,” his arm slides around your shoulder and squeezes you, “i would’ve punched him if it wouldn’t have ruined our date,” 

You snort, as you lick your ice cream, “if you punched him harder than you did the bag, don’t know if this date would have ended with us going home,” and he pouts, as he laps at his ice cream, and he feels you turn to look at him, “Didn’t know you were the jealous type, Yu,” and he chuckles, he wanted to say — only when it came to you. 

But he knew that he couldn’t. Not like this.  

“I didn’t think I was either.” 

“Nope, not gonna admit it,” and Yuji’s grinning still, as the two of you walk out of the theater, his arm still around your shoulder, “no it wasn’t that good,” 

If there was one thing about Yuji is that movies were literally his obsession — one movie marathon when the two of you were teens had turned him into a fanatic. And he often ended up dragging you to all of them he saw in theaters — and you probably had watched the Human Earthworm movies the most amount of times anyone ever has — aside from Yuji. Well, more like you watched him watch it, because while he was smiling and laughing (or crying) at the movie, you were looking at him. 

And right now, he looked far too smug, “So you admit that it was good,” and you cross your arms, shaking your head, “I saw you tearing up at the end — I told you, it’s all about love!” 

You purse your lips, if only to hold back your smile, before sighing, “How would no one tear up at that ending?” And his hand’s grabbing yours, tugging at your arm, as the two of you walk along, “Yu—“ 

“I knew you liked it! C’mon, I knew you would, now what was your favorite part?” And your lips curl into a smile, “what?” 

That was one of the things you loved the most about Yuji, how excited he could get — how he loved everything so wholeheartedly with no reservations, and you knew he was the one person you could always count on to cheer you up. 

“Nothing, nothing,” you chuckle, letting your fingers lace with his, “my favorite part?” And you want to say — watching him enjoy the movie. 

But you can’t. 

“Probably the ending,” you slowly smile, “liked it when the credits rolled,” and he’s mock glaring, as you laugh before his arm tightening around your waist, “Yu-ji—“ 

“Not going to be honest?” He murmurs, before kissing your chin, “then maybe I’ll make you.” 

“Yu—ngh, please,” Yuji could get addicted to your taste, it was never enough, was it? His lips had spent the last twenty minutes kissing every inch of your face and neck, traversing over every nook and cranny as he always wanted to — and yet it was never enough. Any time spent with you was never enough —because you always made anything better, and nothing ever worse. 

And he knew no one else would ever feel this good. 

How many times had he imagined just this scenario? Of you in his bedroom with him alone, as you had been many times before, but never like this. You never looked at him like that before — with that shyness mixed with an undercurrent of want. And it was enough to rip him away and drag him under with you. 

“Please what, baby?” Yuji looks up with a wry smile and soft eyes that burn a path where as it raked down your body like coals across a fire, “want me to stop?” And he’s dragging a thumb down your untouched lips. 

You cover your face with the back of your hand, and he’s gently tugging it away, pressing a kiss to your wrist, your pulse jumping underneath, “I want more,” and fuck if he wasn’t at full mast from the kissing, he was now at your words, “I want you to…kiss me and…touch me,” you mumble, eyes averted, but he’s smiling all the same — you were so cute. 

“Where can I touch?” he asks softly, his nose brushing yours, “need you to tell me. I don’t want to rush—“ 

And your lips crash against his, your fingers finding the back of his neck, threading in his pink locks. He’s pausing a moment before he melts into your kiss, and you’re taking the lead, as you lean further into the kiss, your fingers sliding down from his shoulder to his chest. His tongue flicks against the seam of your lips and you part for him. 

“I want you to touch me,” you murmur as you break the kiss, panting, strings of your spit still connecting your lips, your breathy words nearly enough for him to lose all control, “I’ll tell you if I don’t like it,” 

And he’s more than happy to oblige, his lips find yours in a bruising kiss, his hand toys with the hem of your shirt as permission, and you part from the kiss to nod. His hand slides up your soft flesh, pushing up your shirt along with it — finding your lacy bra underneath. He’s tugging the shirt up and over your head with your help, and god—

He has to stop himself from cumming right then and there at the sight of you. His fingers reach out, toying with the strap of your bra, “Did you wear this for me?” And you biting your bottom lip was all the answer he needed. 

“Yu—“ he’s tweaking your hardened bud through the fabric, “ah, fuck—“ and he leans down to suck the other side through your bra, while sliding down your bra strap. 

“Need to taste you,” and you’re nodding, while he’s reaching around to brush against the clasp of your bra to undo it, and his cock twitches at the sight of your bare skin — you’re so fucking pretty. 

He always thought you were pretty — when you were kids drenched from running around in the rain, when you were just waking up from a nap with your hair askew and dried drool in the corner of your mouth, when your eyes were wide with excitement and nearly jumping up and down to tell him good news; and when you’re smiling—especially when you’re smiling. 

It was his favorite thing. 

“Don’t stare so much,” you’re trying cover yourself, but his hands catch yours, easing them off, “It’s embarrassing—“ 

“You’re perfect,” and your lips part but no words come, but you can’t meet his gaze, “you are—“ 

“You’re just saying that—“ and his fingers pinch your nipple drawing a gasp from your lips, while he leans down and takes the other in his mouth. His eyes find yours, blown into deep, dark pools by his lust — ones you’d be more than willing to drown in. 

“I’d never just say that, especially to you, baby,” and you’re about to make a smart remark about him calling you ‘baby.’ But you forget every word you ever learned when his fingers start to drag down your stomach, fingers playing with the button of your jeans, “can I?” 

And you nod, your back arching ever so slightly as his lips press a sweet kiss to your bellybutton. He’s kissing down your soft legs as he tugs down your jeans — one to your thigh, another to your knee, and another to your ankle —before he’s kissing up the other. 

“How’s that feel?” he murmurs, eyes flitting up to meet yours, and fuck, your lips parted and swollen a pretty red, eyes half lidded with want, and — as his eyes fall between your thighs — a growing wet spot on your panties. 

His fingers toy with the elastic, snapping it lightly against your skin, a slight flinch only, as his eyes gaze at your clothed cunt with near reverence. He looks for permission, before he leans in to press a kiss to your swollen clit, a small yelp escaping your mouth. 

“Yuji,” you whine, lifting your head to meet his gaze again, “please,” 

“Say my name again, please,” he’s kissing your thigh gently, and it feels as if you’ll crumble under his touch any second, wither away in a figment of his imagination, and he won’t ever get the chance to hear you like this again, much less touch you. He was selfish to take advantage like this — and he knew he was — but he couldn’t leave it like this.

“Yuji, just touch me—“ and your head falls back as his fingers graze your clit through your nearly translucent underwear, “ngh, you fucker—“ and he’s chuckling, as he tugs your panties away. 

“Wanted to keep them on since you looked so good, but,” and he’s pocketing them with a grin, “I’ll just keep them instead,” your dripping walls twitch at the thought, “s’good for me. What do you want, my fingers or my tongue?” 

“Fuck, I don’t know, just touch—“ and your head lolls against the pillow as his tongue drags up flat up the length of your weeping pussy. 

“You’re so sweet — I could live here,” he murmurs, as his fingers spread your slick folds, a pretty moan falling from your lips as he does, “can’t wait to feel you cum around my fingers,” he’s easing a finger in — and you’re so tight, you’re tensing as he tries to part your walls, “relax, ok? I’ll be gentle. Don’t worry. I won’t ever hurt you,” his eyes meet yours and you’re nodding, as he pulls his finger away, a shiver at the empty ache, but it falls away into another moan as his tongue replaces it. 

The wet squelch of your folds is enough for him to cum right there — you smell as sweet as you taste, as he kisses your clit, before dragging the length of his tongue over your sopping slit again, “Yuji—fuck—“ your fingers find purchase in his pink locks right when he decides to sink a finger inside you again. 

“That’s it,” he grunts, as he works his finger knuckle deep into you, “so good f’me, so tight,” he’s murmuring, and your syrupy walls wrapped around his finger makes him wonder how good it will feel when his cock is inside you. He’s palming his erection through his pants, desperate for any kind of fucking friction, “g’nna add another,” 

And you’re nodding, “please, I—“ and a second finger joins the first, and the lewd noises grow louder from your slick and his fingers begin to pump faster — teasing and stretching your walls as they begin to flutter around you, “Yuji, Yuji—“ his name leaves your lips like a prayer, but he’s the one who would worship at your feet, if you’d let him, your moans and whimpers were all he needed to survive, and he’d give his very soul if it meant he could be at your side. 

His fingers are fucking you open, the tips of his fingers brushing against the spot that his your mouth falling open in a silent moan, “that’s it, cum for me, pretty girl,” and pleasure rips up your spine, as you cum all over his fingers, thighs shaking as you do. He fucks you slowly through your orgasm, helping you ride it out, until he’s slowing, leaning up to prsss sweet kisses to your face. 

“I’m going to pull them out slowly,” he murmurs, your eyes still fluttered shut, but they slowly open to watch him ease his fingers from you. Soft pants leave your lips as you watch him with lidded eyes lick his fingers sticky with your release clean. 

“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, as he moves up to lean over your face, and you’re nodding, “let me clean you up and we can sleep, ok?” he’s moving to get off the bed, but you grab his hand, and he tilts his head. 

“What about you?” You mumble, frowning, eyes flickering to the tent in his pants with a shy gaze, “I want to—“ 

“It’s okay, let’s just take it easy today,” he’s smiling, fingers finding yours and squeezing, pressing his lips to your knuckles, “you look like you’re about to pass out,” and you’re pouting all the same, but you seem to relent as the exhaustion sets in once again at your words, “I’ll be right back,” and he retreats to his bathroom to wet a washcloth, only to come back to you fast asleep. 

He chuckles at the sight of you sprawled out on his bed — a sight not uncommon to him on nights you spent over, but never like this before. He leans on the bed carefully, mattress creaking ever so slightly under his weight, as he begins to clean you gently — and luckily, you don’t wake by the time he’s done. He can’t put your jeans or underwear on so he opts to grab a pair of his freshly washed shorts and slides them on you. He adjusts the blanket, draping it over you, running his fingers through your hair to tuck it behind your ear, and the back of his knuckles over your cheek. 

“Yuji,” you mumble in your sleep, and he bites his lip — as he returns to his bathroom, softly shutting the bedroom door and the bathroom door behind him, a glaring problem to deal with, as he is still nearly waddling at this point from the grazing of his boxers against his aching erection. 

He undoes his jeans quickly, eyes fluttering as he pushes both down and strips his shirt off before slipping into the shower. The squeak of the shower faucet and the water running hopefully don’t wake you — but more importantly, he hopes his moans don’t.  

His dick was rock hard and aching still — there were so many times he nearly came in his pants, and by how drenched his boxers were — maybe he had. But fuck, you were so gorgeous, laid back and spread out for him. 

His fingers grazed his weeping cock, smearing the precum up and down his length, thumb tracing his slit, as you would. He could see you thumbing his head experimentally, as your eyes flickered up at him, doe eyes, yet glazed over with lust. It wouldn’t be long until you’re slowly pumping him, as he does now — from base to tip, teasing his balls all the same. You’d flick your tongue over the tip, sucking at the dripping precum — wrinkle your nose at the salty taste, but you’d suck at his tip all the same. 

He’d look down at you as your hand switches to toying with his balls, as you let his cock slap against your tongue, before letting his length slip past your lips. Your lips would feel so much softer than his hand does right now, jerking himself off, your plush lips and tongue wrapped around his dick. A low groan escapes his lips, as he covers his mouth, hoping you couldn’t hear him over the running water. The squelch of his precum and his soft moans would only make him want to repay the favor, making you cum over and over, until you were begging him to stop. 

Fuck, he was close, by the way his cock twitched in his hand — where would he cum with you? He’d cum anywhere you wanted — but to cum on your face or chest, the image made him shudder. Your tongue would flick out to clean up some of the cum, and—

Fuck, he moans your name, as he cums all over his fingers, his release sprayed against the tile of his shower, dripping down and mixing with the water. He’s panting, as he cleans his hand off in the shower, leaning his head back. 

What has he gotten himself into? Was it right for him to do this? You didn’t know how he felt — and he didn’t know if you would ever feel the same. But as he got dressed and crawled into bed beside you, keeping his distance as you slept, he felt you move closer, mumbling his name as you did. He couldn’t help but softly smile, running his fingers through his hair—it didn’t matter if you never ended up loving him, as long as you knew what you deserved—to be with someone who loved you, as much or even more than he did. 

He let himself drift off, a loose arm thrown over your middle—he’d let himself have this, if only for now. 

“Oh come on, you couldn’t get the ad free version, Fushiguro?” Nobara complains as yet another commercial comes on, as she glares at the black haired vet student, who sat on the floor after she stole his armchair. 

He only shrugs, bearing little to no reaction, “If you’re going to complain, then why don’t you pay for it?” 

Nobara and him begin to bicker ever so slightly, and Yuji chuckles in your ear, “are they more fun to watch then the show?” 

The four of you were at your apartment, watching a new season of a TV show you all had started last year. You were sat next to Yuji on the couch, your bodies nearly pressed against each other as you shared the blanket, a little cold from the rain outside. 

“They’re always more entertaining than the show, that’s why we agree to this,” you whisper back, the proximity of your bodies making your cheeks burn. You turn away, hoping he can’t feel or even hear the way your heart was beating down your ribs to burst free. Every time he shifted even slightly, you felt your body react — so conscious of even a twitch of his fingers — you wanted to bury yourself under the blanket. 

It had been like this since that night. 

You had woken up to him asleep beside you. Your eyes fluttered open as consciousness slowly crept into focus, sunlight filtering into sight, a small groan leaving your lips. And it wasn’t until you tried to reach for your phone you realized the thing beside you wasn’t a pillow but a person.  

Your eyes flew open and you found Yuji still sound asleep beside you. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to sleep on the same bed — especially after a late night where one or the other didn’t want to go home — but it was different to wake up entangled with him, especially after the events of the night before came flooding back. 

And after that, each time you had been around him, you had become more and more conscious of his touch, nervous even, at the simplest of brushes of his fingers. And this? His body pressed against yours, his fingers grazing your thigh nearly, and his soft breath against your ear — god, you were going to lose it. 

“You ok?” he murmurs a half an hour later, and the question itself makes you squirm — because no, your hot best friend was pressed against you and making you want to do nothing more than kiss him— 

Wait, wait, hot? Your mind stutters at your own thoughts, lagging to comprehend yourself — hot? You wanted to kiss him? You always knew Yuji was hot, he was objectively — especially based on how many of your friends had wanted you to hook them up with him — but you had never thought of him that way. Maybe in passing — but to you, that was the one line you could never cross, especially when you had seen so many friendships fall apart because of a relationship. 

You never wanted to risk Yuji like that. 

But then here you were — blurring that line you said you never cross — and letting the ground split underneath the two of you. 

“I’m fine,” you mumble back — and yet here he was, seemingly unfazed by your proximity and as the minutes ticked by, it began to eat away at you. Did he not find it as meaningful as you did? Did he not feel as good as you? Do you need to touch him just to make him feel just as heartsick as you were? 

And now you know what you wanted to do. 

As the show went on, Nobara and Fushiguro fell asleep — Fushiguro asleep with a cushion he had stolen from Nobara’s armchair and Nobara curled up in said armchair, passed out. 

“Should we stop the show and go to bed?” Yuji asks you, albeit innocently — but there was anything but innocent intentions in your mind when you shake your head, a smile on your lips. 

“Let’s keep watching,” your fingers grazes his thigh, as you lean over, lips nearly brushing against his ear, “it’s just getting interesting, right?” 

And his breath hitches, “what’re you—“ and your fingers inches higher, grazing over his already tenting erection, a hiss escapes his lips, as he’s covering his mouth. 

“Shh, don’t wake them,” and your fingers are ghosting and teasing over his cock, the precum already starting to seep through the fabric, as he shifts under your touch. Your thumb flicks over his head, now fully hard, “so big already,” you mumble, and now your lips press sweet kisses to his neck, finding small cuts and bruises from his practices, and a gasp escaped his lips. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this—“ and your lips find his, and he melts so easily into your touch, your fingers toy with the elastic of his shorts, his eyes flickering to the two sleeping. He’s pulling away for a breath, lips utterly ruined — his fingers running through his hair, “please—“ and your lips curl. 

Your fingers finally brush against his leaking cock, and his head falls back, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, lips parted as soft pants left his lips. And you’re nearly shivering yourself at his want — seeping into your own body, as his pants and moans send a wave of heat between your thighs. 

You rub your thighs together, as you shift even closer somehow, “Gotta be quiet Yu — they can hear us after all,” you murmur, right as your thumb swipes over his slit, a yelp caught in his throat, as his hand flies back to lips, “good boy,” and his dick twitches at the praise, as your finger begins to trace along his veins, “so big, how am I going to fit you inside?” you murmur, biting back a smirk when a muffled groan reaches your ears. 

Your fingers finally curl around his length, you never thought a cock to be pretty — but Yuji’s was. You stared at it under the covers, flushed a lovely red, too dripping pearly beads of precum, and the slight curve it had to it — made the ache in your cunt only grow. 

“Please, baby, I need, please—“ he’s whining, “I need you—“ 

And you oblige him, your hand beginning to spread the pre along his length, beginning to stroke him slowly from base to tip. He’s biting his lip, hard, nearly drawing blood as he chooses to bury his face in the crook of your neck, if only to muffle any moans that fell from his lips. 

“S’good for me, Yu, wanna make you feel as good as I did,” his moan vibrates against your skin, cock twitching in your fingers, “gonna move faster, don’t want our friends to see you like this, do you? You have to be quiet,” and god, why did only seem to get harder at your words? 

Your fingers begin to jerk him off in earnest, the wet squelch of his cock nearly not hidden enough by the volume of the TV, but nearly don’t care at this point — you just want him to fall apart under your touch, need him to. 

And oh, he’s so close. His groans are more frequent, his hips jerking against your fist, and when your other hand finds his balls, squeezing — it’s too much. 

He moans softly, “I’m—“ and that’s all he manages before he spills on your fingers — warm, white spurts splatter against your palm and the blanket, dripping, as he falls back, limp against the sofa. His cock softened in your hand, as you pull it away, before gently wiping him clean with the already drenched blanket. 

He’s panting and fucked out, eyes half lidded as his chest rises and falls, watching you lick your fingers clear of his release, gaze never leaving his. 

“Didn’t know you’d taste this good—“ you barely can manage, before he’s leaning forward to kiss you. Your fingers slide against his cheek to cup it, feeling his hand tangle itself in your hair, “Yuji—“ 

“What was that about?” he murmurs, “not that I’m complaining but—“ but then Megumi starts to move and you both freeze, your breath catching, until Megumi seemingly falls back asleep, “we should head to bed, but—“ 

He looks at the blanket, and the mess you made of him and the couch alike. 

“The blanket I’ll toss in the washer, the cushion I’ll clean up and just turn over—“ and you smile, “and you take a shower before bed,” 

His brow still knits together, “but we haven’t—“ 

“We’ll talk later,” and when later came, Yuji found you fast asleep in bed, with more questions than answers. But he supposed, as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his answers could come later. 

How long has it been? 

You stared at your phone — as if you could will it to receive the message you’ve been waiting for. As if it would grant your one and only wish for a text or a call — but it didn’t. Instead, it only gave you a spam call and a text to let you know you had a discount code for your favorite takeout place. 

Great. 

It had been a week since you had heard from Yuji — and a week since that night. You had woken up to the other three gone — gone off to their own apartments after you had slept in and texts on your phone from them in the groupchat. It was a few days before break — before you and Yuji would be heading back home for a few days together. But you hadn’t seen him at all since — not a chance to talk, much less seeing him. 

Was he upset? Was he done with this? Was his promise to stay empty in the end? Was it your fault — for pushing it, for agreeing to it, and for falling for it all the same? Falling for it or — your eyes trace the screen of your phone as if it’s his cheek — or falling for him. 

No, you rake your fingers through your hair, no, you didn’t love him — not like that. Not the way you shouldn’t, the way you had sworn yourself never to — but maybe all promises between friends were empty, when they were made like this. 

But you weren’t made to let this break apart. 

You found yourself at his door after classes, knocking at his door of his apartment. The door opens, and you find Yuji rubbing his eyes, hair askew, and shoulders drooped. 

“Hey,” he yawned, he’s still shaking off the shackles of sleep, “sorry, what’s up?” 

“Are you okay?” Your furrow your brow, your eyes spot the dark bags under his eyes, large enough to nearly engulf his eyes all together, “you look like you haven’t slept in days,” he steps aside to let you in, you glance around, his apartment wasn’t usually the cleanest — but it wasn’t a wreck like it was now. Clothes scattered, unwashed dishes stacked up, and papers strewn about. 

“I just haven’t…been sleeping—“ and then you remember. 

It wasn’t about you. It was about him. And you were so wrapped up in yourself, you weren’t thinking about him. 

“Yuji, you’re having those nightmares again, aren’t you?” You murmur softly, and the way his gaze falls to the ground tells you everything you need to know, “alright, go lay down,” 

“What?” he’s blinking, but your hand already finds his as you take him to his bedroom, “what are you—“ 

“You lay down. I’m going to make you dinner, and then you’re going to sleep,” and he sits on the bed reluctantly, fingers against his knees, as he bit his lip. 

“I can’t sleep, I told you—“ you cup his cheek, and guide his gaze to yours. 

“Remember what we’d do when you couldn’t sleep after the accident?” 

“This feels ridiculous,” Yuji murmurs into your chest, his head buried there, while your fingers run softly through his pink locks, “we’re not six anymore—“ 

“So what? Doesn’t mean we can’t do this still,” you say, as your fingers pause, “unless you don’t want me to,” 

“I didn’t say that,” he mumbles, and you can hear the blush in his voice that undoubtedly painted his cheeks, “I just meant it feels like I’m bothering—“ 

“Yu, don’t make me pinch you,” you murmur, rubbing his head, “you’re never a bother,” you kiss his head softly without thinking, and soon your cheeks are burning too, “sorry I didn’t—“ 

“Why are you sorry?” He chuckles, “we’ve done a lot more than kiss recently,” and he adds, “especially you,” 

You bite your lip, glad he couldn’t see your face like this, “I thought that’s why you weren’t talking to me, I thought you didn’t like what I did…on the couch, you know—“ 

“I know,” he chuckles this time, “and how could I not like that?” And you swallow the lump in your throat, as the two of you fall into a comfortable silence that you choose to breach. 

“You haven’t had these nightmares in a while,” you murmur quietly, before you add, “we don’t have to talk—“ 

“I know, but it happens from time to time, especially this month,” and your brow furrows, “don’t wrinkle your forehead at me,” and you lean back to gape at him, a smile pulling at his lips, “you always do that when you find out I’m keeping something from you,” 

He moves ever so slightly away, turning to look at the ceiling, “Well I think I have a right because this is a pretty big thing to keep from me, Yu,” you pout, and your fingers begin to absentmindedly trace his jaw, his eyes fluttering shut — you always treated him so gently, like that something that could shatter, but he knew you would always be there to put him back together. Because you did that once already. Over a decade ago, “why didn’t you tell me?” 

Because he didn’t want to worry you. Because he didn’t want you to think of him still as that broken kid you watched after when he had his world fall apart. 

Because he didn’t want you to take that burden — he wanted to handle it himself. 

“I didn’t want to bother you—“ 

“It’s never a bother when it’s you,” and his voice catches in his throat — fuck, how did you always know just what to say? 

He takes a breath, “it’s just the same dream. Of the crash,” he could see something so clearly that he never experienced. He was at home with you when the crash happened — a play date Yuji had insisted on when he had cried and begged his parents to stay with you instead of going to dinner with them. They had relented — and that was the thing that left him alone. 

It was lucky that his grandfather was able to take him in, and stay close by — so he still got to go to school with you. 

“Let’s try to sleep, ok?” You murmur, “you’ll feel better when you sleep,” you cup his cheek, and he’s biting his lip, “what is it?” 

“What if I see it again?” He whispers, as if he’s afraid that his words were any louder he would speak it into existence. 

“Come here,” you say softly, your fingers gently guide his head to face you,  “I’ll keep you safe, I promise,” A sigh leaves his lips as he moves closer, letting you engulf him in your arms, his eyes shutting, and letting himself relax for a moment — the first moment in far too many days. 

When he let himself slip into sleep’s embrace—it was the first night he didn’t dream of the crash — he dreamt of you.  

And when he woke in your arms in the morning, your soft lips parted as you slept, sunlight dappled on your skin through his window, and the way your fingers held onto the fabric of his shirt — he knew, he knew he had to tell you how he felt. 

He needed to end this — his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear — if only to begin something new. 

You had to end it — it hadn’t sunk in until the car drove back home. The quiet morning drive left you both in a comfortable silence, the quiet white noise of his playlist, along with Yuji’s terrible singalongs and your bickering over his music choice. And you found yourself more than once staring at him as he drove, to the point where he had caught you looking. 

“What?” He tilts his head when the light turned red, fingers drumming on the steering, the other poking your side. 

“Nothing,” and you’re playfully slapping his hand away, a smile on your lips — same smile you always had with him. Always—because he’s your best friend. But he was so much more than that. 

You were in love. 

The two of you had returned to the place where you had laid your roots to rest and let your seed scatter to the wind. Only to return as a different flower altogether — but you knew, you couldn’t let it go on. 

It had become painfully clear that morning, you had woken first, the sun had not peaked over the horizon yet, and you found Yuji fast asleep — breaths even and face relaxed. You knew his parents had scarred him deeply — he spoke of them often, but not at all at — he mentioned their presence, but never his own feelings. You knew he had a habit of putting others above himself — but you had missed this — all of this week, you could have been there for him, but you were caught up in your own thoughts and you had made it all about yourself. 

And he deserved more than that. 

He deserved more than you. 

And you couldn’t risk losing him — lose him in a stupid argument or a disagreement and then never be able to comfort him again? Never be able to be by his side? You couldn’t bear to even fathom that. 

“Nanamin was asking about you,” Yuji says as the two of you walk home from the local convenience store — a late night run that produced a familiar bag of treats the two of you always shared when you came back home. 

“Oh really? Are classes over for high school already?” The English literature teacher had taken Yuji in for his last year and half of high school after his grandfather passed, and Yuji always stayed with him on breaks. 

“He asked if you were going to come with us to see my parents tomorrow morning,” it was a tradition to go visit Yuji’s parents graves each year around this time — you always paid your respects whenever you could, “he also said you’re free to stay over, but you have to sleep in a different bedroom,” you snort, “he said and I quote ‘we are past the age of sharing a room,’” You laugh, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “he’s not exactly wrong though,” his fingers graze yours, and there’s nothing more you want than to take his hand, but you know one way or another, you’d drop it in the end. Wouldn’t it be better now? When there isn’t far to fall? 

So you do, letting your hand fall away from his. 

“I’d be happy to see your parents, but I don’t know if staying over is a good idea—“ and he’s shaking his head with a chuckle in his throat. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything you don’t want to—“ 

“We should stop, Yuji,” and his smile slips off his face as if it was slapped off, he blinks, shock settling into confusion. 

“Why?” Only one word and it manages to break you all the same. 

“We just shouldn’t. This was supposed to be about teaching me, but i think I’ve learned enough,” you’re turning away, but his fingers are gently finding your wrist, “Yuji—“ 

“You don’t think I can’t tell when you’re lying?” Yuji asks, and your glass-like facade shatters so easily — why does it always have to break so readily when it comes to him? 

But you pull away all the same, “I can’t do this anymore. Not like this. I don’t want to. I can’t lose you—“ 

“You won’t lose me—“ but you’re already walking off, sparing a glance back. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning when we leave, Yuji,” and he’s opening his mouth to call out, but he stops himself, watching you disappear up the street. 

What just happened? 

The car ride to the cemetery is notably silent. Yuji’s eyes burned when he woke, head aching from the circles he ran around in last night, trying to figure out what happened. Nanami drives in the quiet, his eyes noting when Yuji chooses to sit passenger instead of beside you, only with one glance that’s averted after Yuji refuses to meet it. 

Yuji didn’t know what to make of what you said. After everything, he thought maybe — just maybe, you felt the same as he did. He thought he could tell you tomorrow, tell you when the two of you were alone — and even if it didn’t work out, it would be okay. 

But now — as his eyes stole a look at you in the rear view mirror, he wondered if it ever would be okay again. 

You left the car a moment to go use the bathroom when they stopped to fill gas in the car, and that’s when Nanami speaks. 

“So did you finally ask her out and she said no?” And Yuji’s head snaps to his, but Nanami only stares back, “you aren’t hard to read, Itadori. You’ve liked her for a long time,” 

Yuji scratches the back of his head, “I did something, kinda stupid,” and Nanami tilts his head, “really stupid, ok? And I was going to tell her how I felt, but she broke off what we were doing—“ 

“You weren’t dating?” Yuji’s cheeks burn as he waves off his teacher. 

“That’s not important! But what do I do, Nanamin?” the blond haired teacher raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s not hard to know what to do, Itadori. It’s what you should have done. Tell her how you feel,” and then you’re walking back to the car, “come on, let’s get back. We’re close now.” 

And your gaze avoids his own when Yuji watches you get back in the car, and his lips part as if to stop you — but he doesn’t. 

Not yet. 

You stood with Yuji as he tended to his parents’ graves. Simple stones that he was able to put in with time from his part time jobs, ones he had insisted he would pay for himself — refusing any help from anyone, even you. You knelt down, helping him clear the strewn dead leaves, brushing away dirt and snow — your fingers brushing when you both reach for the same place. 

And your eyes meet, as both of your fingers intertwine slowly — the three of you pay your respects, and Nanami finally stands. 

“I’ll wait for you two at the car,” Nanami says with a nod, leaving the two of you alone. You both already had placed offerings at their graves, arranging them slowly, as the two of you stand, the silence of the cemetery hanging overhead — light streaming in between clouds in the overcast sky, the sounds of the wind rustling the trees the only thing in the quiet. 

“Thank you for coming,” Yuji says softly, and your blink, eyes sliding to his. 

“You never have to thank me for that, Yuji,” you squeeze his hand, “as long as you want me to come, I’ll always be here. And I’ll always pay my respects to your parents, regardless of that,” you say, and that's exactly why you had to stop with him. You couldn’t bear to lose him — lose this, not when he’s lost too much and he was too much for you to lose, “come on, we should get back to the car,” as you pull your hand away from his. 

And maybe things could get back to normal. 

“I know,” and he doesn’t move as you turn to leave, “and that’s why I love you,” 

And you smile, “I love you too—“ 

“I don’t mean it like that,” and you freeze a moment, his words barely processing before he continues to speak, “I mean I do love you in that way too — but that’s not how I meant it now,” he says, as you turn to face him — not finding a hint of humor on his expression. 

“Yuji—“ your brain can barely process your best friend confessing to you — much less next to his parents’ graves— “should we be having this conversation—“ 

“It’s the perfect place to have this conversation,” he glances around at all of the graves, and he’s shaking his head, “maybe not the perfect place, but—“ his gaze softens when he finds yours, “you saved me,” 

“Yuji—“ 

“No, you did. After my parents died,” he stares at the stones side by side — “I could barely function. I barely wanted to do anything but sleep — but you, you pulled me out of bed. You made me go places. You made me smile again,” he says, “but that’s not the reason I fell in love with you,” his lips curl into a soft smile, “it’s because it’s you — your smile, your laugh, your being — it reminded me of happiness existed, and then I realized you were the only person who could make me happy the way you do,” 

“Yuji—“ 

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. But I don’t want to lose you, lose this chance to tell you how I feel, to tell you—“ 

“Yuji—“ 

“And I’ve always loved you — there’s never been—“ and you’re hugging him, before you even know you are, your arms are around his middle, face buried in his chest, as he murmurs your name. 

“The only reason I broke it off was,” your voice wavers despite your efforts to force it to stay even, “I didn’t to lose you by not being good enough—“ 

“You just have to be you,” his brow furrowed into the same valleys he teased you for, “you’re all I need,” his hand finds your cheek, guiding your gaze to his, “how could you think you weren’t enough?”

“You don’t tell how you feel sometimes — you don’t tell me what you’re thinking, I didn’t even know you had nightmares—“ you break off, “what if we continued this and you realized you deserved better than me? And it was already too late for me because I love—“ you break off. 

“You what?” he asks, and you’re biting your lip, “I’ll say it again if it will make you—“ 

Fuck it. 

You lean up and press your lips to his, swallowing his words as your hand finds purchase on his shoulder. And it felt right. As it always did with Yuji. 

“I love you too,” you whisper against his lips, “I love you, in the same way you do,” 

“As a friend?” And your brow furrows, “kidding! Kidding—ow!” You’re smacking him playfully, before he catches both of your wrists and pulls you close, “does that mean I can call you mine?” 

“Or baby,” and he flushes, a cute pout on his lips, “what? Isn’t it—“ and he’s kissing you again, your heart leaping as he does, his hands sliding around your hips, “Yu-“ 

“And what’s my pet name? You still haven’t given me one—“ 

“Have some decorum,” a voice cuts through, and the two of you jump apart, as Nanami stands, glaring at the two of you, “come on, if you’re done paying your respects, then we should go home,” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “the dead shouldn’t have to put up with this.” 

Yuji’s cheeks are tomato red at this point — as he covers his face— but you only chuckle, your fingers intertwining with his, squeezing, “c’mon let’s go, and maybe I can give you a pet name when we get home,” and you both turn to face his parents, as you pay your respects and head down the path a little. 

Yuji faces his parents, kneeling down to say goodbye again — and he remembers how it was their idea to set up Yuji to have a playdate with you, all those years ago. And now, here you were — the most important person in his life. 

“Thank you for everything you did for me,” and he glances at you over his shoulder as he gets up, “especially for helping me find her.” 

“Yu-ji—“ you gasp, as he’s tugging you into your bedroom, bumping himself carelessly into the wall as he guides you both to your bedroom. You giggle as he presses you against the wall outside your room, “I text you my parents are going out for dinner and this is how you greet me? What happened to hello—“ 

His lips crash against yours and you forget about ‘hello’ and just about every other word in your head. Your lips curl against his lips, as his body cages you against the wall. It had been a few days since you and Yuji had been able to have a moment alone—Nanami was watching you both cautiously, while your parents had been keeping you busy at home, seeing family or cleaning up around the house. And Yuji was growing increasingly desperate for some time with you — that wasn’t hidden brushes of fingers under the table or stolen kisses out of sight from family or friends. 

“I missed you so much, baby,” he’s murmuring — and you didn’t know it was so possible to look like a kicked puppy so much until you met Yuji, “can’t believe Nanami was so mean and kept making us keep the door open—“ 

“It didn’t help that he walked in us making out on your bed three times—“ and a moan escapes your lips as he kisses your neck, teeth grazing against your racing pulse, “fuck, Yu—“ 

“How do you always taste so good?” he mumbles against you as he leads you inside your bedroom and shuts the door. His eyes glance around your childhood room, as he takes in the childhood posters plastered on the walls, the untouched books, the stuffed animals from a millennium ago that still lined your bed. 

“My family has not changed much here for years,” your cheeks burn, as he only chuckles, walking you backwards into your bed, and you climb into the bed, only grabbing a stuffed animal from behind you, “remember this?” 

He snorts, as he takes the stuffed penguin from your hands, “How could I forget? I tried a million times to win this,” 

You tilt your head, “You said you won it your first try—“ and you gasp as he looks away, cheeks flushed, “you were trying to impress me,” 

“Not that much,” and you’re leaning closer, brushing your lips against his, “maybe just a little,” you kiss him more insistently this time, sliding against his, fingers curling in his soft strands, “maybe too much,” and you smirk, noses bumping as your lips find each other’s again and again. 

And your fingers slide down to drag his shirt up and over, freeing his chest and abs to your sight — and what a sight it is. So toned and tanned from his American football practices in the sun — perfect for your fingers and lips to explore the peaks and valleys of his body, hands already far too eager.

He returns the favor by lifting your own shirt off in an instant, groaning when he finds you wearing nothing underneath — your eyes can’t help but flit down and find his erection already tenting in his sweatpants. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect,” his eager hands are already teasing and palming you breasts, a whimper drawn out by his precise pinches and touches, “so good for me,” and your hands drag down his chest, leaning down to press kisses to his chest as your fingers trace along his abs, making him groan. 

He’s pouting, after he pulls you into another kiss, “it’s not fair,” he mumbles into the side of your neck, “I feel like I’m always the one who’s more nervous than you are,” 

You chuckle, kissing his jaw, “I felt the same way, why do you think I touched you on our TV marathon that night?” 

And he’s blinking, as you lay back on the bed for him, “you didn’t know—“ you shake your head. 

“You had offered to help get experience, and even when we had done things, you were just so…normal,” he chuckles, before laying beside you. 

“I had some practice acting normal around you, but I really didn’t. I think you nearly gave me a heart attack that night,” and you grin, drawing so close that you even feel the hitch of his breath. 

“That good, huh?” You tease, and it only takes a moment until he’s hovering over you, lust pooled in his gaze that lights a fire on your body wherever it lays. 

And his lips meet yours right after he whispers, “I’ll show you good.” 

“One more, baby,” Yuji tells you, but you barely hear it through the haze of pleasure and heat that fills the room, along with the sounds of the squelch of his fingers in your tight cunt, “just need one more,” 

And how many times had he made you orgasm already? You’d lost count — five or six at least. The first had taken some time, working his finger into your weeping slit, the way your walls stretch around him make you wonder how good it will feel when he fucks you. It’s not long before he’s sinking another finger in, the sounds and feelings of his digits curling is enough to bring you to orgasm. And the rest are a blur — another finger in your tight entrance, fucking you open as he toyed with your walls, until you came again and again. 

And now he bent down, lips around your clit, teasing and sucking at the sensitive bud, as your fingers curled in his pink locks as the lewd moans fell from your mouth with ease. You’re so close — so fucking close, and when his fingertips brush against that spot and it’s all too much. 

You cum around his fingers and mouth, his name on your lips as you do, back arching against him, as he eases his fingers from your cunt. He licks his fingers clean as your eyes flutter open to meet his, “You taste so good, baby — you’re perfect,” and you watch as his tongue flicks out to clean his lips and chin of your sticky release. 

And soon enough he’s kissing you, hand cupping your cheek, letting you taste yourself on his lips, as your fingers drag over his bare chest and follow his happy trail into the elastic of his boxers. A soft moan leaves his kiss ruined lips, as his eyes are lidded with lust, soft pants against your skin. 

“Is this a dream?” Yuji murmurs, his lips ghosting along your jaw, “never thought we would get here,” and you turn your head to meet his lips in another sweet kiss. 

“It isn’t, we’re here. Took us long enough,” your lips curl, your fingers tracing over his cheek, “and nowhere else I rather be — or no one else I rather be with,” 

“You sure?” And you’ve flipped him over, kissing down his body, fingers tugging at the elastic of his boxers until his dick is freed from the fabric, “fuck, baby, you don’t have—“ 

And his words are cut off with a grunt as your fingers grazes his erection, teasing his weeping head. You start to pump up and down, working the thick beads of precum over his length, his head falling back. 

“How’s your cock so pretty, Yu?” you coo, blowing air over his dick, making him twitch in your hand, “never thought one of these would ever be so pretty,” you let his length slap against your tongue, slowly dragging it down your 

He hisses, hands grasping at the sheets, as you bend down to flick his tongue against the head of his cock. Your lips close around it, and suck, raising the back of his hand to cover his mouth, “fuck, s’good, baby, I—“ 

And you’re letting his cock sink past your lips, your tongue flicking against his slit. Your eyes find his own, as you hollow out your cheeks and sucking hard, and his hips buck into your mouth. His tip brushes against your throat, and you’re moaning around him, your fingers cup his balls, nails digging into your scalp. 

“Baby, fuck, I’m close—where—“ and he’s trying to ease you off, but your hands only hold his hips in place. Your nose brushing against his pubes. And when you’re suck hard on his tip, toying with his sack, only for him to moan your name, before cumming down your throat, his hot release painting your insides. 

You’re slowly pulling off his dick, a string of cum and spit connecting your lips to his cock, a smile on your face. You swallow his release, the salty taste still on your lips as you watch him pant, chest rising and falling. 

“Taste so good, Yu,” you murmur, and you’re moving back up to kiss him, “think I’m addicted,” you murmur, as your lips find each other again and again. 

“Now you know how I feel,” he smiles, fingers running through your hair, “been addicted to you for over a decade,” and he’s sitting up, guiding you into his lap slowly, “we can always stop right here, we don’t have—“ 

You kiss him softly, the way he deserved, the way you’ve wanted to for so long, “I want to, Yuji, I really want to,” your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing his hand, his arm slipping around your waist, “because I love you,” 

And your fingers grasp his hardening cock, pressing it to your dripping slit, and god, he’s so fucking big. You knew how big he was, but just feeling him pressed against you makes you ache at how he’ll be stretching you out. He drags his dripping tip against your slit, letting your cum mix together, letting his head catch on your clit. 

Finally, you’re sinking onto him, his thick length parting your walls, inch by inch. Your head falls back, as he leans into your touch, watching you flinch at the stretch, “you okay?” Yuji’s pressing sweet kisses to your lips and cheek, “should I stop—“ 

“No, no, I’m fine, it’s starting to feel good,” your arms wrapping around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck, “ and he’s helping you sink into him, until finally your hips are flush to his, “fuck, Yu—you’re so deep—“ his cock twitches against your walls, a shiver up his spine at your words. 

And he’s panting, his lips pressed to your shoulder, “you feel s’good, baby — so wet and warm—“ you smile, cupping his cheek, “can’t believe this is real — can’t believe—“ 

“It’s real, Yuji, it’s real,” your lips curl into a smile, “I’m here, I love you,” 

“I love you too, I love you so much,” he kisses you again and again, as he shifts slowly under you, swallowing a gasp that leaves your lips. 

“Please, Yuji, move—“ and he obliges, beginning to fuck into you, and your head falls back, as his cock rocks into you, a moan falling from your lips as you do. He’s groaning your name again and again, a grunt when you begin to ride him in tandem, both of your thrusts sending him deeper into you. 

“Baby, fuck, you’re perfect. You’re so good f’me,” his lips finding your neck, as his strokes become faster and deeper, the sounds of your skin slapping together rings in your ears as he fucks you harder and harder, “g’nna cum, s’close,“ 

“I’m close too,” you’re panting as his lips find yours in a sloppy, messy kiss that has you losing yourself more and more, as his thrusts become more and more swallow. And when he finds your clit between your bodies, rubbing as he finds that one spot that has you seeing stars, “Yuji- I’m—“ 

And you cum hard around him, soaking his cock and thighs as you do, walls squeezing him tight until he’s spilling his warm seed inside you. You slow as you do, legs quivering, as you nearly slump against him and he holds you impossibly closer. He helps you both detangle, easing his softening cock from inside you, a small groan as he sees your mixed releases leaking from you. He helps you lie back, as he wraps his arms around you, running his fingers through your hair. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers, brow furrowed in slight worry as your eyes flutter open, lips curling as your fingers smooth the wrinkles of his forehead. 

“I’d be better if you’d kiss me,” you whisper and he obliges, a soft kiss to your lips that leaves you warmer than you were before, “now I’m perfect,” 

“You always were,” and you chuckle, rolling your eyes, before shaking your head, burying your face in the crook of his neck. 

“No, that’s because I had an excellent teacher,” and he laughs, before he pulls you even closer, finding your lips in a kiss. 

“And you always will.” 

“Come on, Fushiguro, pay up,” Nobara holds out her hand, as Megumi glares, pulling out his wallet and plucking money from his wallet and handing it to her. 

“You cheated,” he says as she snatches the money, counting it with a grin on her lips, “I don’t know what you did, but I know you did,” 

“You never said we couldn’t give them advice,” she grins, as she pockets his money, “and all I did was give Yuji a nudge, he’s the one who fucked—“ 

“Alright,” Megumi rubs his temples, “I get it, but it’s still unfair — we’ve been waiting for them to get together all these years and all of sudden he gets the idea to become her friends with benefits—“ and Nobara only grins wider, “you didn’t—“ 

She shrugs, “you can wait around for two idiots to figure it out, or you can shove them off the deep end.” 

“I knew you cheated,” Megumi grumbles, “that’s the last time I ever make a bet with you, Kugisaki,” 

And she smirks, “Well now you’ve been taught a lesson too.” 

✧ a/n: another celebration fic done! now just one more and then i can start preparing for the next follower celebration :). i've settled on using wips but i'll pick out a bunch of prompts for you all to request for certain ones. that way, you all have had a hand in them <3. thank you to laney for helping beta <3.

✧ taglist: @adrenova, @nakariabnrb, @skvllknight, @hanlay, @spider-fan72, @anonimusunnoaniswriting, @chososcamgirl, @thenezuko, @catsgomurp, @too-much-snow, @sashaiko, @forest-fruits-jam, @rita-ritarita, @anyaeuh, @dezznuggetsblog, @jayathelostdragon, @newspapergirlmal, @2livelaughlovefictionalmen2, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @xoocii, @firelordazulaaaa, @cira273, @twosec0nd, @ororomunroro, @sunamatic, @withoutanameyet, @gojorgeous, @masctomboy805, @hantaslittlearsonist, @lemonpoppy-seed, @malmare, @teraine, @boopadoopa333, @jeyughh, @coffeebun17, @faeryli, @katienaps, @tojbitch, @fushitoru, @soulofoz, @yamaguccitadashi

[yundeob]

A NIGHT IN HOLLYWOOD ☆ | ATEEZ SERIES

— featuring ot8!ateez in iconic HOLLYWOOD romance and rom-com movies

— TICKET BOOTH IS CLOSED! 🎟️ : the movies are about to start! all fics will have MATURE CONTENT! MDNI!

sit back, relax, grab your popcorn and tissues, and enjoy the silver screen . . .

THE PARENT TRAP ☆ | KHJ

TROPE: exes to lovers! divorced!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

AS DIVORCED PARENTS to two twin daughters, you and hongjoong have your fair share of work cut out. Driving to piano lessons, cheering at hockey games, drop offs at each other’s houses, it can all be a little much. But could a relaxing summer retreat as a whole family possibly rekindle past emotions you’ve swept under the rug? . . .

— IN THEATRES

DIRTY DANCING ☆ | PSH

TROPE: bad boy!seonghwa, enemies to lovers!au , 60s!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, angst, crack

THAT WAS THE SUMMER before JFK got shot, before the beatles came, and when you were working part time at your aunts summer resort. That was also the summer you met resident heart breaker and cocky entertainment crew member, Park Seonghwa. Remind yourself why you’re suddenly dance partners with him again? . . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

PRETTY WOMAN ☆ | JYH

TROPE: dilf!yunho x formerstripper!reader, strangers to lovers!au, contract lovers!au,

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst

LIVING IN BEVERLY HILLS comes with its perks. But for two different people such as yourself and multimillionaire business tycoon, Jeong Yunho, both of you can’t seem to find what you’re looking for in the so called ‘Land of Dreams’. So the proposal is simple really… let him spoil you with money, jewelry and clothes while in return, you stay by his side. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

MR AND MRS KANG ☆ | KYS

TROPE: marriage!au, established relationship, spy!au, assasin!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, ANGST, crack

WHO WOULD’VE THOUGHT picture perfect suburban neighbourhood couple, Mr. and Mrs. Kang would be at each others necks trying to kill each other first. You’ve both come this far in your marriage while hiding your secret identities, but it looks like only one person can remain standing. I guess you both did promise “in sickness and in health”. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

ROMAN HOLIDAY ☆ | CS

TROPE: royalty!au, princess!reader x reporter!san, strangers to lovers!

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst

AS CROWN PRINCESS, you’re on a tightly scheduled tour of European capital cities. But after an especially rough day in Rome, you sneak out of the embassy to explore the so called Eternal City, running into no other than celebrity news reporter, Choi San, looking out for his next big royal scandal. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU ☆ | SMG

TROPE: college!au, stoner!mingi, enemies to lovers!au, fakedating(?)au, y2k aesthetic

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

YOUR YOUNGER BROTHER Wooyoung is desperate in getting you, his older sister in college, to date so that he can finally date in highschool. The options for potential candidates are scarce, considering men flock away like birds the second you’re near. Good thing campus stoner and weirdo, Song Mingi is the same as well. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS ☆ | JWY

TROPE: fashioncolumnist!reader x advertiser!wooyoung, y2k aesthetic, fake dating(?)au, enemies to lovers!au, mutual pining

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

LISTEN, IF IT MEANS getting a promotion at your editorial company as a news journalist instead of pop culture and lifestyle columnist, you’d do anything. And that includes pretending to be the most annoying and clingiest girlfriend to some guy for 10 whole days. But just so you know, Wooyoung likes clingy. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

ROMEO & JULIET ☆ | CJH

TROPE: unrequited love, star crossed lovers!au, mutual pining, secret romance (shakespeare be rolling in his grave rn)

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, ANGST

FOR CENTURIES, a plague of hatred and hostility has been present in the relations between the House of Choi and your own. You know you can’t be together, but yet why do you keep catching that dark haired boy staring at you so longingly? And why do you want him just as bad?. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

a/n: for updates, follow my blog! this will be a work-in-progress so I ask for your support:(🙏

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[tojipie]

˚ ✧ content: first-time parent toji, doctor reader, fluff, brief mentions of injury

“oh— hey! found one more for you down the hall.” a dreaded patient chart is thrust into your arms before you can tell the cheery nurse that your shift is already over. 

“great,” you mutter, tiredly scanning the stack of paperwork as you make your way down the hall. it was way too late for this. 

2-year-old male, already triaged and x-rayed. drove in by his dad about 2 hours ago. nothing too extensive, wouldn’t take more than an hour to get him sent home. 

soft cries greet you at the door to the examination room, a hushed voice— his father— attempting to console the child.

“megs, c'mon. you’re gonna be okay! these are good people.” the older man whispers, sighing as the toddler’s sobs only grow louder.

your knock silences them both, the little boy trying to put on a strong face for you despite the little sniffles wracking his chest. 

the kid is a carbon copy of his dad, donning the same shaggy black hair and big green eyes. the toddler looks up at you hesitantly, long lashes slick with tears.

“see? doctor’s here,” his dad coos, feigning fake excitement as you shut the door behind you. you can hear the quiver in his voice as he says it, anxiety eating away at his composure.

first-time parent you think, cute. always more terrified than the child. always.

“how’s our little trooper doing?” you smile, sympathetic to both their states. the younger boy says nothing, wiping the wetness from his face with his good arm. poor baby.

“fell off his trike in the driveway,” the father explains, shaking his head. he was charming, soft-spoken yet commanding respect. gnarled edges of a scar gracing the side of his mouth.

“can i see? just want to have a better look at the injury site,” you say calmly, snapping on a pair of blue gloves.

“show her where it hurts kiddo,” he asks tenderly, wincing as you take the ice pack off to expose the child’s swollen wrist.  

megumi looks up at you curiously as you examine the injury, exhausted from a mix of pain and sleep deprivation.

 “mama?” he mumbles, idly kicking his feet in his father’s lap.

“no bud not mama.” the older man laughs, clearly embarrassed. you feel your heart twinge just a bit at the adorable show of confusion.  

“no broken skin, the joint is still aligned too.” you say confidently, placing the ice pack back. “likely not a break or a dislocation but i’ll look at the x-rays just so we’re positive, sound good?”

the father nods quietly, hugging his son to his chest.

“his mom was never in the picture, s’ hard handling him alone,” the older man doesn’t follow up on his comment, leaving it at that.

you nod. “i’m sorry.”

“toji,” he mumbles.

“i’m sorry, toji.”

it doesn’t take long for you to go over the blue images. an intact bone stands out against the illuminated wall, not a break thankfully. the stranger catches on soon enough, tension leaving his body at the good news. 

“looks like it’s just a sprain,” you say, pointing to the image. 

“see that kiddo?” he whispers, turning the little boy’s head toward you. “s’ nothing.”

“nofing?” megumi mumbles, clearly too tired to pay attention anymore. shy as a bunny.

“you’re gonna want to ice and elevate for at least the next two days, you should see a full recovery by then but if not i want you to come right back, okay?” you explain.

the father nods, propping his little boy down on the floor as you type out your post-visit instructions.

“say thank you to the pretty doctor megs,” he encourages, chuckling as the little boy waddles over to hug your leg with his good arm. so incredibly tiny. 

pretty huh? you could get used to that.

“fank you.” his sweet voice latches onto your tired heart and melts you from the inside. megumi slumps down against your shoe as sleep takes over, caught under the arms and swept into his dad’s arms in an instant. 

[odinsblog]

“I had a Zionist grandmother who grew up, she grew up in Poland, she was supposed to go to Israel to study. Her father had paid for her for the first year of tuition. And then in 1939, when she was in her last year of high school, Germany and the Soviet Union invaded Poland.

She ended up for a couple of years in the Soviet-occupied part of Poland, which was how she ended up in Moscow. And by the time Germany occupied all of Poland. So then she spent the rest of her life living in Moscow.

And 45 years after the end of the war, dreaming of being able to go to Israel, but not being able to because she was now stuck in the Soviet Union. And so I think I was very infected by, infected in a non-derogatory sense, by my grandmother's dream of Israel. And I had my own dream of Israel growing up as a, as a Jewish kid who was bullied and beaten up and teased.

I just wanted to live in a country that, that was majority Jewish. I could not understand why my parents would want to go to the United States and live in another country where Jews are in the minority. My parents on the other hand just didn't want to be Jewish.

Like their only experience of being Jewish was being systematically discriminated against. They were both born during the Second World War, so they were second generation, utterly non-religious and separated from any Jewish tradition, except the tradition of being a targeted minority. So they just, they just wanted to go somewhere where they wouldn't be Jewish.

And so when I was 15, a year after we moved to the United States, I actually went to Israel planning to stay there and didn't. For a variety of reasons, but one of them was being confronted with, with what I found at the age of 15, a shockingly racist society.

So the first time I went to Israel was when I was 15, it was 1982. And then there was like an 18, 17 or 18 year gap.

And I started traveling to Israel regularly from 1999, 2000. And the first time I went back was to actually complete the research on the book about my grandmother's. So it's been a good 25 years that I've been coming back.

And I think Israel has undergone a lot of changes in that time. But no, I don't think that like the kind of Ashkenazi Sephardic racism that shocked me in 1982 has found subtler expressions. But politics of settlement have only been exacerbated.

And I still find them extremely painful to observe, especially because some of my beloved relatives are settlers.

I did visit them this last time I was in Israel, because I really wanted to see what it looked like for them.

I was compelled to go visit them because of a Facebook post that my cousin made. And just to give you an idea, I really hold these people very, very dear. But for years, I would go to Israel, Palestine and not tell them that I was there, because I kind of couldn't face them.

So it's been a number of years since I last saw them, a number of years since I went to that settlement. But my cousin had posted something on Facebook. It was a picture of her son playing the violin.

And she wrote, in one of the houses where they stayed in Gaza, there was a violin. He played for his soldiers and then put the violin back. And I found that post-heart-rending and eye-opening, the picture of him playing the violin was not from Gaza.

It was from earlier, but he had apparently told her about playing the violin in Gaza. And obviously she was worried about her son serving in Gaza and so she's posting about it. And she wants to assert that he is a good boy.

But also, entirely missing from that post and from her world view is that somebody lived in that house in Gaza. That violin belonged to somebody. Like, it was such an extraordinary example of the blindness that we were talking about a little bit earlier that I wanted to go visit them and kind of engage with that blindness more.

And I got a really good dose of blindness to the point where, and we had this incredible moment when we went walking around the settlement after Shabbat lunch. And we sort of got to this hilltop where there's a swing and there's a little free library.

And we're looking out on a Palestinian village. And I said, what are we looking at, to my cousin? And she was trying to get her bearings.

And she said, where are we looking? And she named another settlement, which was kind of, which was not on our line of sight. It was like this literal example of looking at an actual Palestinian village that she drives past every day.

And before the village was sealed off after October 7th, she used to get gas there. And she knows it exists. But somehow she, also it also doesn't enter her geography.

It is nameless.”

—Masha Gessen, the descendant of Holocaust survivors, discusses the dehumanization of Palestinians (part 2 of 3)

[fairy-angel222]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 ft. Choso Kamo

—You meet Choso at a bar after babysitting him eight years ago

cw: small age gap (25 n 23), smut

It’s been a long time since you’d seen Choso Kamo. Having babysat him back when he was twelve and you were fifteen. A mere three years gap which deemed you mature enough for the job by his parents.

He’d never tell it to you, but you were his childhood crush. The girl he wanted to marry. The girl he told his friends about. His parents kept you around for only two years. Concluding that the boy was old enough to take care of himself.

He was devastated, especially when you found out that you’d be moving only a week later. He knew his feelings weren’t returned, but it hurt to see you go. He cried for weeks, couldn’t eat or sleep. He just wanted to see you again.

He hoped that maybe you’d text him, check up on him like you did when it was your duty. But you didn’t. You’d be turning eighteen the next year and would go off to college. And he’d be stuck there, without you for the rest of his life.

It had been eight years, and Choso sat in a bar with his friends. Their glasses clanking loudly against each other as they downed its contents. He hated crowded places like this, he wouldn’t even be there if not for his friends.

He’d gone to college, gotten his fair share of girls. Everything you promised him that he could do one day, the only thing missing was you.

“Choso? Oh my God is that you?”

It couldn’t be.

Choso’s mouth went dry as his head snapped in the direction of that familiar voice. A wide smile on his face as he took you in. “Y/n.. you.. I- wow.”

There you stood, after so long, grown into your body and as pretty as ever. You didn’t look a day over nineteen. It hurt to remind himself that you were not twenty five. It had been that long.

You giggled softly, that same giggle that he swore made his heart flutter. “It’s so good to see you Cho. It’s been so long.” You pulled him in for a hug and he stiffened, taking in that sweet scent that you always carried. It really was you. He allowed himself to hug you back tightly, pulling your shorter frame into his chest as he closed his eyes. Enjoying your embrace.

“It really has. I missed you.” He let slip out, and you smiled sadly as you pulled away. “I’m sorry Cho.. i didn’t think i’d have to move. Would have been nice to see you graduate and stuff.”

“No no it’s okay. It’s fine. I’m really glad to see you.” He could see his friends winking at his side, all watching intently at the interaction. It made him fidget, lip between his teeth as his face flushed a pale red. “How about i buy you a drink?”

“Sure.” You smiled, allowing him to lead you to the counter with a hand on the small of your back.

The two of you sat and talked. A long conversation about your lives and how each of you had been over the years. It made him happy to know that you were single, and it made him even happier to know that your ex had been your only since you were his age.

He started at you intently as you spoke. A special adoration in his eyes as you went on about your job and your friends. You were still so perfect. He wondered how you would feel if he told you that he never got over you. He’d first have to tell you that he had liked you, of course.

You could not lie. He was extremely handsome. He’d grown to be your type. Nothing like the adorably introverted boy you’d known back then.

Choso on the other hand, could not think straight. His mind was taking in everything at once. Your stories, your face, your lips, your hair, your dress which hugged your body in a way that made his mind wander. You somehow managed to captivate him even more. Especially since he was grown now, he knew what he wanted. His parents told him you were just a harmless crush, a phase. But he knew what he wanted for certain now. You.

It was how you ended up in his apartment. Both your hands roaming each other’s bodies as Chosos kissed you passionately. His hand around your throat gently to push you to the nearest surface. He kissed you like you would disappear at any moment, letting his lips trail down to your neck before leading you to his bedroom, your dress and his shirt having been discarded by the time you reached the door.

Choso pulled off his pants, and you allowed yourself to take in the muscles on his body. And the way his arms flexed as he held you tight.

He slipped on a condom, backing you up to his bed until you fell back onto it, Choso climbing over you with your tongues still intertwined.

You moaned when you felt him prodding at your hole. Easing his length into you with a groan of his own. He started off slow, rolling his hips into yours while breathing heavily onto your skin, his tongue swirling around your nipple while his hand squeezed at the soft flesh.

Your fingers were tangled in his hair, tugging on dark strands when he began to speed up. Thrusting into you expertly as you moaned out into the room. “Choso, hmm— fuck.” You mewled, back arching off the sheets when he started hitting you g spot with every movement. Pulling out nothing but moans past your lips as you fell into pleasure.

“Swearing’s bad, remember?” He breathed jokingly, reminding you back to when you’d say that each time he said a bad word.

You moaned out a small laugh, breaths ragged as your toes curled, feeling his fucking you deeper than you thought could be reached. “O-oh God— don’t stop. Please don’t stop. F-feels so good.” You cried, noises pretty and high pitched as your stomach burned, feeling your inching closer and closer to orgasm.

“S-shit. Had a crush on you f’ so long. Never thought this would be happening.” He grunted deeply. “Though i got over you till i saw you tonight.” His eyes met yours and you fought the urge to tell him that you knew, you’d known all along. He had just been a little boy with a crush. But now.. it was so much different. You craved him after seeing him. You wanted him.

“Ahh, ‘m so close Cho.. ‘m gonna cum.” You moaned, vision going black as you let your eyes shut, arms wrapping around his shoulders as your body was rocked back and forth.

“Go ahead sweetheart, cum f’ me yeah? I’ve got you, just let go kay?”

You nodded with a cry, body shaking as you let go. Allowing yourself to crumble underneath him as you came. Drenching his cock in your slick.

Choso’s thrusts became sloppy and he groaned, “That’s it. So good for me. Haah— shit.” Burying himself deep inside you before spilling into the condom which separated you. Unable to stop himself from imagining breeding you raw.

You both panted as you struggled to catch your breaths. Holding onto each other in a comfortable silence after he pulled out.

“That was..”

“Yeah,” He agreed. There was no going back after this.

He got both you and him cleaned up, giving you one of his shirts to wear as you let yourself cuddle into him on the couch. Watching a movie with two beers as he stroked your skin gently. Chin on your head as he tried to wrap his head around exactly what just happened.

This was serious. It didn’t feel like another one of his one-night stands, it felt real. It felt like there could actually be something between you. And he would do whatever he could to make it happen.

[pearlywritings]

'Mom' to his 'Dad'

synopsis: just a collective bulleted drabble of all the thoughts I had about raising Yanqing together with Jing Yuan (yet somehow not being married (yet))

pairing: Jing Yuan x fem!reader

tw: fluff, domestic fluff, modern AU, CEO!Jing Yuan (because why not), dad!Jing Yuan, adopted son!Yanqing, from co-parenting to dating, from friends to lovers

word count: 1.8k+ words

CEO!Jing Yuan who looks hella fine in any clothes, but especially good in gray and carmine red suits. Who absolutely hates wearing ties, but has zero complaint when you, after staying the night before, wrap one around his neck. He feels soft when you lecture him, but in the end say he looks good, smoothing the lapels of his jacket, making sure his appearance is intact before turning around and hurrying to check on Yanqing’s preparations for school.

CEO!Jing Yuan who is a great leader, a nice boss and obviously a great catch, but who also hasn’t shown any interest in any suitor who’s attempted to woo him in the last decade. And he is 33 already. There have been many gossips swirling in the company, most potent about you and him, rumored to be in a secret relationship and raising a kid together. Well… they are not wrong on the second part.

CEO!Jing Yuan who after the passing of his two friends took their eight-year old son under his wing. Who had never dealt with children, especially this young, but who was lucky enough to have you - a dear friend since university, now a coworker, understanding and compassionate enough to leave your house at 3am to drive all the way to his residence after just one frantic call.

CEO!Jing Yuan who will never forget that night - you, running into the house after he let you in, with hair still messy and clearly first clothes you dug from the closet thrown on you. You looked like a cute ruffled sparrow, which quickly transformed into a mother hen when he better explained his troubles about a little kid - now his adopted son - and how he couldn’t get him to fall asleep at the new place. You too didn’t know much about handling children, but you were willing to try and the white-haired man couldn’t ask for more. Both called off work the next day.

CEO!Jing Yuan who since then has a room in his house that belongs to you - over the years it got filled with your personal things, redesigned (twice!) to your tastes, and has been occupied over the years for almost half of each passing week.

CEO!Jing Yuan who adores Yanqing - the boy proved to be feisty, but at the same time he was very sweet and nice to have around. Jing Yuan didn’t think twice about adopting the little guy the moment he learnt of his friends’ passing, turning from a godfather to just a father. He, obviously, didn’t force Yanqing to call him dad, making up his mind that even if it never happens - it’s totally fine. Due to the age the boy could understand why his parents weren’t there and Jing Yuan was making all he could to give him a good life, a normal life. He was so lucky that you tugged along.

CEO!Jing Yuan who almost cried when Yanqing absentmindedly called him ‘dad’. The ten-year old didn’t even notice it, but to the man it meant the world. He spammed you with messages, all in caps and with weeping emojis, and felt his heart about to combust when you sent him a response full of excitement, congratulating him. And then messaged about how you wished to hear the boy call him dad the next time you were around. Damn, he wished so too.

CEO!Jing Yuan, who loves having you around. He melts when he returns to the living room after going to refill the snack bowl only to see Yanqing cuddled closely to you, staring at the screen with his head tucked under your chin. His lips tug into a wide smile when the boy asks you if you can be the one to get him from school tomorrow instead of Jing Yuan’s personal driver (and you always say ‘yes’, even if it means you’ll sacrifice your lunch break). A pleasant shiver runs down both his and the boy’s backs when you walk into Yanqing’s room to check on the two doing homework and gently scratch their heads. Jing Yuan loves the domestic life the two of you created.

CEO!Jing Yuan, who encouraged his son when a couple of years later he wondered if it’s okay if he started calling you ‘mom’. The man told him to approach you the next time you were staying over and ask your opinion on the matter. Which the boy did, shyly reaching out for your hand and when you gave it to him with a smile, dropped a bomb. Jing Yuan remembers the slight hesitation flashing in your eyes, how you lifted him and got him into your lap to be on the same eye level with him.

“Baby, are you sure?”

“Mhm. You’ve always been there. You raise me. And I really love you and want you to be my mom.”

“Even if I am not your father’s wife?”

“Maybe you should become her? But either way, yes.”

CEO!Jing Yuan who now can’t get the boy’s words out of his head. Yanqing is right - you’ve always been there. For them both. His, no, your son is thirteen now - meaning that for five years you’ve helped your friend raise the boy - you were not obligated to be there for his special events, you weren’t paid to take days off and sit with him when he was sick, no one asked you to kiss his forehead and tuck him into bed, there were no rules that said that you have to share his hobbies… Yet, you did. Always. And the man has always been very aware of that, but only his son’s words seem to open his eyes - both of you are his parents. Maybe it’s a shame you are not spouses.

CEO!Jing Yuan who feels kind of bad - you’ve spent 5 years of your life being a family to Yanqing and, admittedly, the man himself. You’ve given up searching for a partner, starting a family of your own just to make sure that the kid who has no relation to you grows healthy and happy. He can’t help but love and appreciate you.

CEO!Jing Yuan who finds out that you’ve been having similar thoughts about him after that conversation with your son. He really didn’t mean to overhear, he just wanted to drop by your office at the beginning of the break and offer to go get lunch together, only to stop at the mention of his name that passed through the door. Apparently, you sought advice from Yukong - the head of the logistics department, a fellow mother and one of the few who knew what your family dynamic was really like. You are concerned that you took the place that wasn’t meant to you - you worry that Yanqing got attached to you so strongly that should Jing Yuan start seeing someone, the boy would be too stubborn to accept.

CEO!Jing Yuan, whose heart skips a beat, when the teal-haired woman asks you, why you are not entertaining the possibility that you can be the one the man seeks a relationship with. The same heart drops into his stomach when you sigh and tell her of him never showing interest. Things seem platonic to you. Well, not to your coworkers, it appears.

CEO!Jing Yuan and you, who freeze in your seats, when at the end of the meeting a new secretary of the man asks if ‘Mrs Jing will also attend the event’ hosted by one of the company’s biggest clients. Confused, you look at your friend, who's equally stunned (but secretly, realizing what kind of mistake it is, fights back a tiny spark of delight). It turns out that the secretary thought the two of you were husband and wife and for that reason gave you the man’s last name. If it’s not the sign, then what is?

CEO!Jing Yuan who goes clothes shopping with you - because you both indeed are going to be at the event and the man insists the two of you buy something matching. When you ask why, he slyly smiles and promises that it’s his way of ‘showing interest’. At first you don’t get it. But when your cheeks heat up he knows the message is clear to you. You do call him a scoundrel and he heartily laughs at that, but you still reach out to his hand and he readily interlocks your fingers.

CEO!Jing Yuan who notices you getting flirtier, one time in particular not leaving his mind. He was comfortably sitting on the sofa, having everything he needed to push through the last bits of work he had decided to take home (‘everything’ being just his laptop and a mug of steaming tea). That’s when you approached him from the back, laying your palms on top of his shoulders, gently kneading the tense muscles, working a low appreciative grunt out of his throat.

“Yuan?”

“Mmm?”

“You look stressed,” fingers dug a little rougher into his flesh and the man groaned, shoulder flinching. Only for his whole body to go rigid when your voice fanned right against his ear, ”I know how to fix it.”

And then you innocently proposed to go to the gym together once he’d be done. Honestly? For a stunt like that Jing Yuan wanted to bite you.

CEO!Jing Yuan who does get his teeth onto you as you are trying to escape the trap of his arms after waking up from the cute cuddling session with Yanqing. Only for the boy to be gone upon your awakening (and you hear some shuffling in the kitchen) and a very hot man - your friend? boss?? unofficial-but-everyone-thinks-you-are-together lover??? - pressing your back into his chest with arms firmly circling your waist. When you attempt to move away, he suddenly surges forward and clamps his mouth onto the exposed juncture between your neck and shoulder. And nibbles.

“Jing Yuan!”

“Hufshf,” he mumbles into your skin, before releasing it and burying his face into your neck. “Don’t shout, you’ll alert Yanqing, and I want some more time with you.”

“...why?”

“Why?” He muses, and you feel a smile pressed to the back of your neck. “Because I think we’d make great as a couple.”

CEO!Jing Yuan who comes to an agreement with you that for the longest time it felt like the two of you were indeed a married couple. You share a place, you do most domestic things together, you go to places together, you raise a son together. And together you come to a conclusion that courting is due.

CEO!Jing Yuan who absolutely shares Yanqing’s sweet anticipation for when you will be able to legally adopt him. Which means - marrying his father (just let this man put a ring on your finger already).

[often-daydreaming]

Sanctuary

Buzz...

Buzz...

Buzz...

'Hel-' 'I told you I was okay mom, you need to stop texting me so much.' Danny? 'I'm still at the library near Nightingale Drive but I promise I'll be home soon.'

Dinah was out of her chair and hurrying towards the nearest teleporter before he could finish speaking and inadvertently startling a few nearby heroes as she pushed past them.

'Dinah?'

'Dinah, what's happening.' Oliver called out when he noticed her leaving.

'Danny, a kid I've been mentoring just called using one of the codewords we came up with for emergencies.' And it must have been bad if Danny was calling her this late at night but at least he was using the phone she got him so it only took a few seconds to pull up his location through the built in tracker.

Huh...

What in the world was Danny doing in Star City?

It didn't matter. Not right now. She'd ask later but for now she was busy punching in the right coordinates while Oliver ran to grab his own gear.

-_- -_- -_-

It didn't take long to find him. The kid, Dinah's boy was hiding in a coffee shop a few blocks away from the library he was using for his cover story so Oliver stayed back for now and watched from his hiding spot on a nearby rooftop as Dinah hurried into the shop playing up the role of a worried mom.

She was good at it.

Nobody gave her a second glance as she pulled the kid into a hug while muttering soft reassurance that doubled as codewords. He knew some of it meant danger and alone but he was too far away to make anything else out and Dinah angled the kid in a way that kept him and anyone else watching from reading their lips.

And he got it.

He really did.

From his bloodshot eyes to the sway in his every other step it was obvious from just a glance that the kid was dead on his feet. He'd more than likely been running for a while now and was one soft breeze away from collapsing so the last thing he needed was a complete stranger coming out of nowhere and questioning him but that still left Oliver with a dozen different questions as he listened to Roy going over everything they could dig up on such short notice which wasn't much.

It looked like somebody had gone through a lot of trouble to erase Amity Park's existence but a few things managed to get through like news covering the Fenton's home being raided by the government and Vlad Masters' very public, very messy custody battle with the older sister. Both of them were seen accusing each other of everything and anything, screaming insults and overly creative threats, and on more than one occasion the police had to pull Jasmine off of Masters who kept paying her bail but there was nothing explaining the hows or whys behind everything going on.

I know it isn't much but I just had the thought of Danny's parents getting arrested for whatever reason really but I'm going with their change of heart after a reveal gone right for this prompt. They shut everything down and stop making weapons that can actually hurt magical beings and a lot of influential people don't like that leading to a police raid while Jazz is away and forcing Danny to reach out to Dinah who could be his anything really from one of those online therapists to a godmother who tries to help him figure out his powers.

[spatialwave]

"𝓲𝓽'𝓼 𝓸𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓯𝓪𝓲𝓻"

pairing: pre-war cooper howard x fem!reader word count: 3k summary: you hadn’t expected to see a celebrity at your nephews birthday party, let alone america’s most recognizable cowboy star. luck seemed to be on your side when cooper howard’s attention landed right on you. warnings: mdni! smut, age difference, cooper eats you out!

you and your older sister had a sour relationship, you hadn’t quite agreed with her husband’s fixation with capitalizing on a nuclear fallout. he worked at vault-tech, some entry-level position with a promise of greater things. after a few dinners of listening to him ramble about the vaults and trying to convince you to buy your place in one, you decided to distance yourself.

but your six-year old nephew had stolen your heart since he was a newborn. you would do anything for him, even if it meant sucking up your pride and going to visit your sister for his birthday.

knowing that he was a little aspiring cowboy, you showed up dressed to impress—meaning denim jeans, cowboy boots, a button down blouse and cowboy hat. you had expected enthusiasm from the other adults, but you were greeted with them all in their sunday’s best. 

this was going to be a long saturday afternoon.

you were sitting inside your sister’s house, having kept yourself away from the partygoers as you picked at the hot dog on your paper plate. a birthday delicacy.

just as you were about to call it a day and make haste for the door, you heard the sound of kids yelling excitedly outside where the party had migrated. you hadn’t been told that there was entertainment and curiosity bubbled inside you. a little peak would hurt.

just as you reached the backyard, standing up on the white-painted porch, your eyes landed on the man sitting atop a horse with a lasso spinning effortlessly around his body. of course your sister managed to hire an actual cowboy.

with a smirk on your lips, you watched with a tiny smile—eyes growing wide when you recognized the face hidden behind the hat. 

that was fucking cooper howard.

you felt your heart skip a beat as you stepped toward the staircase, looking over the sea of parents and children as the movie star put on a beautiful display of his talents. you had heard the news stories from women gossiping in your workplace, how cooper howard was going through a tough divorce with his wife… who worked for vault-tech.

it then made sense how your brother-in-law scored this gig.

speculating wasn’t going to do you any good, and you likely weren’t going to get any answers, so you pushed thoughts of cooper’s personal life out of your head and instead admired him. who cared why he was there? you were happy to be within the same vicinity as the handsome man. he was just as beautiful in-person as he was on the television screen, big pearly whites shining as he smiled.

then, his brown eyes met yours, even over the crowd of people that he could let his gaze linger on. you felt your body shiver as you both shared a long stare, feeling vulnerable under his eyes and missing it when he instead looked down at a young boy that was cheering for him.

with red cheeks and a giddy smile on your lips, you kept watching, unable to look away. even after he’d gotten off the horse and helped a few children sit atop and take them for a short little walk around the backyard.

cooper was good with the children, you found yourself unable to look away and making little mental notes of what kind of man he was. so far, he was kind, gentle and humble.

before you could indulge any further, your sister sprung up in your line of sight and left you huffy.

“would you be a darling and go into bruce’s car to get donny’s present?” she asked so sweetly, “he wanted to keep it as hidden as possible.”

“i was enjoying the show,” you grumbled, watching as cooper had started to wrap up after taking a few photos with your nephew and a handful of the other kids.

“oh, hush. here.” your sister shoved the vehicle keys into your hand, “just leave the present inside, we’ll be there in a few minutes once the entertainment is gone.”

you hadn’t even gotten the energy to call your sister out for labelling cooper as just ‘entertainment’. you just let out a sigh and followed her orders, grabbing the present out from the convertible and placing it neatly on the large stack of presents on the kitchen island.

your small gift bag was starting to look shameful compared to some of the large, wrapped boxes.

“christ,” you muttered to yourself as you let out a defeated breath.

you made way for the front door, digging in the pockets of your jeans and retrieving a cigarette as you stepped foot onto the front porch. just as you lit it and moved down the short stairs, you glanced ahead and were greeted by none other than cooper howard walking across the large driveway.

“miss,” he smiled at you out of courtesy, giving a nod of acknowledgement as he continued to lead his horse past you and toward the trailer hooked up behind his vehicle.

“hello,” you murmured, exhaling smoke from your lungs as you watched him with wide eyes—starstruck. after a few moments of watching him you mustered up the courage to follow behind him, though doing your best not to disturb the horse and get a prompt kick in the head, “mr. howard?”

the older man looked over his shoulder, hands busy guiding his horse as he stopped just outside the trailer. 

“hm?” he hummed, turning slowly to face you, that charismatic smile on his lips, “please, just call me cooper,” his voice drawled with a thick southern accent, “what can i do for a pretty cowgirl, such as yourself?”

you felt your cheeks warm up at his words, wondering if he was flirting or just being overly kind. you hadn’t met a ton of celebrities in your day, so you hadn’t the slightest clue.

“oh, i’m not a cowgirl,” you laughed softly, looking down at your outfit and then back up to cooper, “it’s my nephew’s birthday and i suppose i took the dress nice requirement the wrong way.” you managed to make cooper chuckle, a grin forming along his lips as he tied off his horse to the trailer and able to give you much of his attention. 

“well, if i got to choose, you’re definitely the best dressed today. you had me convinced that you’d be coming for my job,” he poked fun at you.

cooper howard had always been a faithful man, but barb’s betrayal was something he’d never be able to forgive. he was also a man with needs, so when a young woman approached him with a naive look in her eyes, he couldn’t help but pounce at the opportunity for some flirting. it helped with his ego, at least, having slowly deflated after needing to take on these entertainment gigs just to pay alimony to his ex-wife.

it wasn’t fair that she’d manage to take most of his assets, the money, the home—full custody of janey with very little visitation. it was brutal, but he was making it work. he’d be having the weekend with his daughter soon enough.

he could be content with you right now, in fact, he desperately needed the distraction.

“if it makes you feel better i can’t even ride a horse,” you said through a giggle, “i won’t be coming for your job anytime soon.”

a breathy laugh came from cooper as he settled a hand on his hip, “that’s reassuring,” he smiled with thinned lips, “you’d certainly take away attention from me.”

there it was again, was he flirting with you? was cooper howard actually flirting with you?

“i don’t know about that,” you spoke quietly, flicking off the build up of ash on the cigarette you hadn’t been smoking, “sorry, i’ll let you get all packed up. i’m sure you’re a busy man. i just wanted to let you know that i’m a big fan of your movies,” you tried so hard to keep a calm and cool composure, “you’re, uh… a great actor.”

“why, that’s very kind of you, miss,” cooper kept a smile on his lips as he looked over you, brushing his hands off on his brown corduroy pants and clearing his throat, “would you happen to have an extra cigarette i may be able to take off your hands? i seem to have left mine at home.”

you nodded, reaching for the pack in your pocket so you could pull one out and pass it to the older man, a smile breaking on your lips when his fingers brushed against yours.

“thank you,” he said smoothly, eyes flickering to follow your hands as you pulled out a lighter for him. he leaned forward with the cigarette between his lips, meeting your gaze as the flame lit it nicely and smoke bellowed from his lips, “you are a lifesaver, darlin’, i’m usually more prepared than this.”

“it’s no worries at all, my pleasure. really.” you took a step back from him, cheeks burning hot as you shoved the lighter back into your pocket and butted out the cigarette you had completely neglected.

“how about i treat you for a drink sometime,” he spoke, tilting his head curiously, “it’s only fair, don’t you think?”

cooper was more than satisfied to see the way you had looked so surprised, your eyes widening and lips curving into a small smile. somewhere deep inside, he knew this was wrong. you were a young thing, not much older than a university graduate, if that. cooper? well, he was at least twenty years your senior.

then, he remembered, it’s not like he had anyone but himself to please. his ex-wife had managed to get his reputation buried so deep that he couldn’t book anymore gigs, hell, not even a lousy commercial. his agent would be letting him go soon, too, he knew it.

there was nothing to lose here.

“a drink?” you questioned, “like a date?”

you were so damn endearing.

honestly, you were convinced that something had happened at your nephew’s birthday. maybe you had walked too close to the horse, and it did end up giving you a swift kick to the head. everything happening was just your wildest dreams as you lay in a hospital in the deepest of comas. it was easier to than believing you were actually sitting with cooper howard in a darkened bar, a place much too expensive for you, but you supposed these were the perks of being famous.

you sat in a velvet covered seat right at the long bar, one leg crossed over the other in an attempt to make yourself feel like you were fancy enough to belong here. you were just thankful that you had a friend who was a seamstress, able to turn a long, frumpy black dress into something that hugged your curves.

it wasn’t every day a movie star asked you out.

“what do you do for work?” cooper leaned his elbow against the bar top, a cigarette in his left hand and glass of whiskey in the other, “other than being a professional cowgirl, of course.” 

“i’m just finishing up the last bit of my schooling,” you replied, pulling the martini glass from your lips where a layer of red lipstick marked the glass—your second drink, “going to be a nurse.”

“now, that’s a very commendable line of work,” cooper straightened up, setting down his now empty glass full of half-melted ice, “i’m certain you’ll get a lot of joy out of savin’ peoples lives.”

“i hope so,” you smiled, quite proud of your career choices, “i mean, it’s no movie star, though.”

cooper let out a low laugh, dropping his gaze for a moment as he put out his cigarette in an ashtray, “let me just tell you that being a movie star isn’t all it’s made out to be,” he spoke through a breathy chuckle.

you furrowed your brows slightly, chewing on your bottom lips as you watched him. well, at least he was a modest man. “why aren’t you in movies anymore?” you bit the bullet with your question, “i haven’t seen you in anything new since you started doing the ads for vault-tech.”

a heavy breath escaped cooper’s nostrils as he met your eyes, his smile gone, “you see, that’s a can of worms we oughta’ keep shut, if you don’t mind.”

“i’m sorry,” you were filled with immense regret, seeing the discomfort on coopers face, “i’ve been told i’m too nosy for my own good.”

“no, don’t apologize, darlin’. how were you supposed to know without asking?” cooper reassured you, reaching forward to place his hand on your bare knee, peaking out from the provocative slit that went up the length of your dress, “maybe someday i’ll share.”

you felt your heart skip a beat when his calloused hand rested over the smooth skin of your leg, sending shivers up your spine and making you wonder just where this night would lead. a sheepish laugh escaped your lips as you toyed with the toothpick in your martini, punctured through an olive, “someday? i wasn’t expecting a second date.”

“you weren’t?” cooper grinned, god, you loved his smile, “i thought this was goin’ well.”

“maybe if i have a third drink in me i’ll be more inclined to go on that second date with you,” you teased, thankful for the courage the drinks were giving you.

“why don’t i make you that third at my place? i can mix you up a better martini than here,” he squeezed your knee, his thumb brushing along your skin and all you could do was nod.

the third drink never came, but that was okay. with your lips parted and hands in cooper’s hair, you could care less about a dirty martini when his face was buried between your thighs and your dress pushed up to your hips. you’d always been a lucky girl, but nothing would ever top this.

“oh,” you whimpered, fingers tightening in his hair as his tongue lapped against your folds, the tip flicking against your swollen, sensitive clit, “just like that,” you cooed, your head falling back against the cushion as you closed your eyes and focused on nothing except the pleasure flowing through you. 

cooper had long forgotten the worries that tried to rot his mind because for once in months he felt something, a warmth in his stomach—hope. even as war loomed overhead and life seemed dire, you had walked into his life. someone fun, a pretty girl who could keep his troubles away for a night.

his hands gripped at your outer thighs, fingers digging into your skin as he ate you out with the expertise he’d gained throughout the years. quickly learning what made you moan and squirm under his touch.

“fuck,” you cried out, whimpering as your thighs pressed against the sides of his head as you neared climax, “i’m going to cum.”

“no one’s stopping you, angel,” he breathed warmly against your cunt, one hand pulling from your thigh so he could press a digit inside you and coax out sweet sounds from your lips. he pulled back as a second finger joined in, his mouth and chin glistening from your juices, “show me those pretty eyes of yours.”

you were quick to listen, using your strength to lift your head up and look down at cooper. he looked glorious with tousled hair and pink cheeks, fingers fucking you with a practiced touch. 

you locked your eyes on him as you breathed heavily through pouted lips. “cooper,” you whined loudly when his thumb made quick circles over your clit and bringing you closer to the edge, fingers tugging on his hair as your back arched and the coil inside your stomach released.

your voice cracked as you said his name, a cry of pleasure coming deep from your throat as you came. you pulsed and contracted around his fingers, hips vibrating as he didn’t let up, not in the slightest. he wanted to see how your face twisted with pleasure when you became overstimulated, grinning as you grabbed at his hands in an attempt to slow his movements. 

he listened, his fingers coming to a stop and soon pulling out from you as his lips pressed chaste kisses to your inner thighs while you fell back into the sofa and let out a shaky sigh.

“i have to be dreaming,” you breathed out, hardly able to keep your eyes open as you felt cooper shift so he could sit up and crawl over your body.

“too good to be true?” cooper questioned with a teasing tone, holding himself above you as you pressed your hands to his cheeks.

“very much so,” you smiled, your breath evening out, “cooper, i think you should rest back and let me do some work now,” you hummed as you pressed a hand to his chest and began to push him until he was resting against the arm of the sofa.

cooper showed a toothy, lopsided grin as he watched with intrigue glimmering in his eyes, happily looking you up and down as you moved from your spot on the couch until you were kneeling on the carpeted floor in front of him, “you really don’t need to,” he said, though, he was only being polite. he wouldn’t say no to this.

“aw, come on, cooper,” you whispered, your hands on his clothed thighs, slowly moving up until they could tackle his belt buckle, “it’s only fair.”

“shit,” cooper hissed, eyes fluttering shut as he felt your hands free his erection from the confines of his suit pants.

he certainly hoped for a second date.

[eddiethebrave]

steddie empath soulmate au

When Steve was younger, he had trouble separating what he was feeling from what he wasn’t. A lot of people do at that age. When you can tap into another person’s emotions, it’s hard to know the difference between theirs and your own. 

In school, they give a very quick, very unhelpful lesson on soulmates - only really saying what kids have heard on their own anyway. It’s unspoken that you’re supposed to learn about that kind of thing from your parents - and most of his peers did. 

In his house though, mentioning your soulmate was discouraged. Steve was expected to have a hold over his emotions and just know what it took other kids years and the help of their parents to learn. He was supposed to have a wall. He was supposed to be able to shut the door on his own. He was to know the difference between what he was feeling and what he wasn’t. And for all his parents knew, he did all of that from a young age. 

What Steve had done from a young age was learn how to hide what he was and wasn’t feeling. Like right now. Right now he’s giving his date a ride home from Lucas’ championship game while simultaneously feeling the most scared he both has and hasn’t ever felt. 

He thinks now he understands better what people mean when they say you can just tell when your feelings aren’t your own. For the first time in his life, Steve knows immediately that this emotion doesn’t belong to him. For one, there’s no reason he should be scared to death while driving Brenda home, and he hasn’t felt this scared since July. For two, there is absolutely no way there’s alternate dimension shit happening right now. That shit is supposed to be over with. Then again, that’s what they’ve thought since that first time with the Demogorgon, too. That time also happens to be the first time he felt fear like this. 

It’s such a crash from the high he’s been riding all evening. Everything was exciting and good for a few hours there. 

With shaky hands, he pulls up in front of Brenda’s parent’s house. He can tell that she’s trying to make conversation, maybe expecting more from the end of their night - but he can hardly focus enough to make himself seem at least a little bit like he’s not about to cry. He stumbles his way through a goodbye, not knowing what’s happening and before he knows it he’s alone. 

Usually, Steve would walk her to the door and probably make a move on her. At the very least he’d watch to make sure she got in safe, but right now he drives away the second the passenger door closes. 

He feels an overwhelming urgency to go go go. And he does. Steve drives faster than he ever has - barring the time he saw Billy’s Camaro speeding towards Nancy’s station wagon and t-boned the boy without a second thought. 

He gets home, and for the first time in months, he opens his trunk and takes out his nail-bat. He makes quick work of getting inside his house and locking the door, looking over his shoulder the entire time. He goes around the whole house making sure all the doors and windows are locked. When he’s checking the back door - the one that leads out to the pool, he hesitates, eyes lingering on the woods that line his yard. 

Before ‘83 - before Barb - Steve wasn’t afraid of much. He felt like he was on top of the world and like nothing could bring him down. Now, though, he only goes to the backyard to complete the yard maintenance expected from him by his parents. 

Steve knows that locking the place up won’t fend off a Demogorgan - that thing came right out of the Byers’ wall, no door necessary - but it makes him feel the tiniest bit better, more secure. 

He makes his way upstairs and stumbles through getting ready for bed - as if he’ll be getting any sleep tonight. 

He knows, okay? He knows that these probably aren’t his feelings and that there’s no need to be this revved up, but he can feel it. His heart is pounding and he knows deep in his bones that he isn’t safe. 

It’s not until he lies in bed that an immense sense of grief and guilt flows over him. Steve curls up, pulling his knees to his chest, and tries not to cry.

[dio-niisio]

(English is not my first language, so please ignore any mistakes! :-))

Ok I've been imagining a scenario that for some reason Martha and Thomas Wayne are brought back from the dead...

One day they are dead and the other they are starting at their graves, reading their names and being very confused.

Alfred probably finds them first, he looks out the window and sees two people standing in the family cemetery, Wayne Manor had problems in the past with grave robbers, and he would be damned if he let that happen with their grave. So poor Alfred runs, grabbing some old shovel on the way (just to scare, not to harm!), ready to give an ear full on these people. That's when he sees. His friends.

He's surprised to say the least. They don't look young, the years they were gone caught up to them. Thomas has mostly grey hair and Martha had a white strip of hair right in the top of her head...

Alfred doesn't know what to do, so he brings them inside. And starts to prepare some tea while he tries to explain the past 30 something years.

The next person who sees them is Dick, he smelled the tea and was going to get a cup, then he saw the people in the painting on the top of the stairs. And he panicked. Cuz he knows what that implies, and he is worried for his dad.

He introduces himself as 'Bruce's son' which gets them to be a very happy set of grandparents, he tells them the story of when Bruce adopted him (cuz grandpa wanted to meet his mom, in the end he got a nice and tragic story of the flying Grayson's)! And how he always wanted to meet them! He also text Jason, telling him to get his ass downstairs and talk to his family.

Jason almost had a heart attack, he thought that Dick wanted him to talk to Bruce not grandpa and grandma, he's very happy of course, but he's worried for them, resurrection isn't something nice, but they assure him they are as good as they could be. And it is his turn to explain that he's also adopted (they laughed at the tire story, he told them it was one of Bruce's "fancy cars"). He comments that he and Martha have matching hair (both with a white stripe right in the middle).

Tim comes home around noon, he's been spending time with some school friends, and when he hears some commotion in the kitchen he goes to investigate, that's when he sees them and thinks he's hallucinating (again), but he's reassured by a very happy grandma. He tells them he's 'Tim Drake-Wayne', and is his time to explain that no Bruce didn't marry a Drake, he is his legal guardian (aka Dad) cuz when his parents died on a archaeological excavation his uncle was not fit to be his guardian so Bruce stepped up.

Thomas and Martha are so happy in a couple of hours they went from being dead to having 3 beautiful grandchildren! They are very proud of Bruce for making a difference in these boys lives!

That's when Damian walks in the kitchen he just wanted Alfred's help with something, he looks just like Bruce when he was that age (or what they think Bruce would look like), he doesn't look surprised or excited, he just says that he's Bruce's 'biological son', which gets one of his ears pinched by Dick with a very stern 'be nice'. Before they can ask anything they're being hugged by Damian who says that it is nice to have them in here.

When Bruce comes home he's very tired™, he had a day full of meetings on Wayne enterprises and he still gotta do Batman stuff. He passed through the kitchen and saw that his kids had guests over. He doesn't think much of it until he gives a good look at them.

"Mama? Papa?"

And the world stopped spinning. That's them! All he wanted to see since he was an 8 year old little boy. He just doesn't believe it.

He looks just like his dad. Probably a bit shorter (and not rocking the mustache), but he has his mama's eyes. And her smile. He missed her smile so much! He missed his papa's hugs, he missed the lullabies his mama used to sing, he missed playing pretend with his papa, he missed them.

And he can't say a word. He just cries. He hugs them and he cries. His mama and papa are really back! They are back home!

And now it's his turn to catch up! And boy he's got a lot to say!

As they move to the living room Thomas gives this look to Alfred, smiles and says "Thank you for caring for our little boy, old friend!"

"Little boy? I'm sorry Mister Wayne, but that's an understatement. He's almost taller than the cabinets!"

[starkwlkr]

Imagine a Hugh Jackman x reader where one of their kids gets a nightmare and wants the wolverine to scare the monsters away? Reader walking into the scene of Hugh in a children’s wolverine costume trying to cheer them up?? Have a great day and take care of yourself :D

the monsters gone and your daddys’s here | hugh jackman

an: thanks anon for the request! this was such a cute idea 🥹

marvel actress!reader masterlist

Alex was a heavy sleeper so when his younger brother, Reese, whispered his name, the boy continued snoring. Reese had trouble sleeping, but he never told his parents. Why? He thought the scary monster under his bed would get them if Reese told them.

Even with his stuffed animals and blanket, Reese still couldn’t sleep. He then remembered that his dad had bought them walkie talkies for christmas. Hugh kept one on his nightstand. The boys usually called in if they wanted a bedtime story or just to say I love you. Right now more than ever, Reese needed his dad to scare away the monsters.

He grabbed the device from his nightstand and turned it on. He pressed the button and called for Hugh.

“Dad? Can you hear me?” Reese released the button hoping Hugh would immediately reply.

On the other end, Hugh heard it. It took a few tries from Reese to finally get him to wake up, but eventually he did. You were sleeping with Olivia beside you, he didn’t want either of you to wake up so he quickly answered it.

“Hey, what’s wrong buddy?” He asked.

“I can’t sleep.” He responded nervously.

“Why?”

It took a few seconds, but Reese finally decided to tell Hugh what was wrong. “There’s scary monsters and I’m scared. What if they get you and mom! And what if they get Alex and Olivia!?”

Hugh’s heart shattered after hearing his boy. He wondered for how long the scary monsters had been bothering Reese. “They’re not going to get any of you, I will always protect you.”

“Can you scare them away? With your claws?”

Ever since the boys watched X-Men, they were convinced Hugh had metal claws that came out his knuckles. He didn’t have the heart to tell them it was fake so he bought a cheap wolverine costume from the store and used the claws when they were around.

“I’ll be there in a second.” He assured the boy. Reese mumbled an ‘okay’ into the walkie talkie then ended the conversation. Hugh got up from the bed, making sure not to disturb you or Olivia. He got the plastic claws and wolverine mask from the drawer and put them on. He then walked to the boys’ room and opened the door.

“Where are those ugly little monsters, bub?” Hugh asked, getting into character.

Reese, without saying a word, pointed to under his bed. He watched as Hugh adjusted the mask and got down to his knees. “I’ll get rid of those monsters. They won’t stand a chance.” He went down and started ‘fighting’ the monsters. In reality, only toys and dirty clothes were under the boy’s bed. Hugh made fighting sounds so to Reese it genuinely seemed like he was getting rid of monsters.

“Oh this guy is done for! Get out of here!” Hugh continued.

“Did you get all of them, dad?” Reese, too scared to look, asked.

“All of what?” Both Reese and Hugh heard your voice. You stood at the door rubbing your tired eyes. What was going on? You wished you knew.

“Dad is getting rid of all the monsters!” Reese told you.

“Aaaaaand that’s all of them,” Hugh got up from the floor and took off his mask. He started breathing heavily and wiped away his ‘sweat’. “You got nothing to worry about, Reese. Dad took care of all the scary monsters.” He gave Reese a kiss on the forehead.

“Thanks dad.” Reese whispered. He looked over at Alex, who was still sleeping. How could Alex be asleep while the wolverine just scared away all the monsters? At least Reese had a good story to tell at breakfast.

“You alright, baby?” You asked Reese.

The boy nodded. “Dad scared them away. I can sleep now.”

“I’ll see you in the morning.” Hugh whispered to Reese then walked over to you. He mumbled a good night to Reese and closed the door.

“I am dreading the day we have to tell them Wolverine is just a comic book character.” You sighed.

“Let’s just enjoy this moment. Yesterday, Alex told me I was his favorite hero.” Hugh walked back with you to the bedroom.

“Wolverine or not, you’ll always be their hero. They know you’ll always be there to protect them.”

Hugh didn’t care if he had to fight imaginary monsters, he would always protect his kids. He just hoped they wouldn’t get too upset when they find out he doesn’t have metal claws.

@kellyxo1 @ru-kru @barnes70stark @flyestvenustrap @evasmlp

[sanarsi]

Summer 2014

bfd!no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: What happens if you find out you're attracted to your best friend's father? Well, Joel is more than willing to show you that. Warnings: +18, MDNI, age gap (reader’s in Sarah’s age), best friend’s dad!Joel, protected PIV, fingering, dom!Joel, pet names, dirty talk Wordcount: 5,7k An: A bit of a stepdad vibe idk??? BUT we all had to go through summer 2014 phase so Joel should too ;) Music I worked with: My Love - Justin Timberlake, T.I.

Masterlist

Your friendship with Sarah started in elementary school. Since then, you were inseparable. You always did everything together. Usually at her house because your parents were... quarrelsome. Joel never minded that sometimes you stayed at their place for a week or longer. In fact, he was glad that his daughter had a friend like you. Thanks to you, he stopped spitting in his face that he didn't spend enough time with his princess. That's why, whenever he had time on the weekend, he took you to the movies, bowling or just to eat something unhealthy.

The Millers' house became your second home. Better home. Joel became like a loving father to you, the one that was missing in your real family. You loved cuddling up to his side when you had movie marathons on Fridays.

Years passed, you and Sarah started to grow up. Joel had to face new challenges. Posters of singers covered all the walls in Sarah's room. Makeup kits could be found in every cabinet in the house. Your giggles and squeals would echo when one of your idols released a new song or simply had their picture taken on the street.

Your teenage years really took their toll on him. He would drive you to concerts, wait with you in line for hours for a stupid autograph from a guy with a bleached smile and too much gel in his hair. Sometimes he was getting tired of you two. But as long as he saw the wide smiles on your faces, he was able to grit his teeth and fight the backache and headaches you gave him.

Or maybe he was just getting old.

Then came the period of your love conquests. He couldn't count how many times he had to sit with each of you on the couch and hug you, whispering comforting words about how you were perfect and boys were stupid. And you could have your heart broken every month, but he was always able to fix you.

Everything in your life fell into place in such a way, that you didn't introduce your first serious boyfriend to your parents. You introduced him to Joel. You invited him to dinner at the Millers' house so Joel could judge whether he liked the candidate you had chosen for yourself. Joel became a real parent to you. And he couldn't have been happier. A single father, not of one princess, but of two.

You were the ones who gave him breakfast in bed on Father's Day. You were the ones who took him to his favorite restaurant on his birthday. You were the ones who judged whether he looked good when he started dating.

And finally, you both grew up. You started going to work to earn money for the holidays. You started going out with friends and coming back drunk in the middle of the night. You were starting to be young women. You were no longer his little princesses. But despite that, Joel still treated you like that.

He still made you waffles with rainbow sprinkles on Saturday mornings. He still bought you your favorite ice cream. He still watched cartoons with you in the evenings. You were a family.

But it wasn't always rosy.

When you started growing up, you started arguing with him. About coming home too late, about forgetting to turn off the lights in the garage again, about him being too protective. It even got to the point where you told him that he had no right to pick on you for anything because he wasn't your father. It hurt him, but he knew you were right.

He wasn't your father and you weren't his daughter.

But you still called him when you didn't know something. You had to inform him when you decided to stay the night at your family home. He was the arms in which you cried, apologizing for what you were. And he never even thought to remind you of the words that ever hurt him.

But over time, everything started to change. You and Sarah were in your twenties when the first problems started. Her proposal that you should move out together to another state, which ended in a huge row on Joel's part. Then the fact that you were accepted to two different universities, a few hours away from each other. Then Sarah's boyfriend who came to ask her father for her hand in marriage, which ended in a row because it turned out that he had cheated on her.

Adult problems started, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle.

That's why, when you were twenty-five, you still lived together with Joel and went on vacations together. And everyone was fine with that kind of life.

Joel loved having you around and couldn't imagine staying alone in that big house. Sarah stopped wanting to move to the other end of the country because she found the girl of her dreams.

And then there was you.

You just didn't want to lose the family you had.

And you were all happy that everything was the way it was.

"Let's go sunbathing!" you shouted with a wide smile as you entered the house.

Joel was just pouring himself his third cup of coffee that day and Sarah was watching some series while eating chips. You looked around seeing the lack of energy in their movements.

"What's wrong with you two? Why aren't you packing?" you asked frowning and entered the kitchen putting the bag of groceries on the table.

Joel glanced at you with those tired eyes of his and took a sip of coffee then without a word he started rummaging through the groceries you had made. You turned to Sarah who ignored the fact that you had returned home. You ran up to her and jumped over the back of the sofa landing next to her. She squealed in fear almost throwing her snacks and looked at you murderously. You ignored it, smiling widely.

"I've already packed," she announced going back to watching the crappy soap opera they put on every afternoon.

"Joel?" you asked glancing at him. He looked up at you, clearly having no idea what you were talking about because he was too busy reading the ingredients of some sweet drink.

"I packed him," Sarah said. Joel swallowed the coffee he had in his mouth and straightened up.

"Oh, yeah, she packed me," he nodded.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sarah roll her eyes and you wanted to burst out laughing.

"Okay, so it's just me who’s left," you announced, clapping your hands and quickly getting up from the sofa and heading towards the stairs. "What swimsuits did you pack??!" you shouted already halfway to your room.

There was silence for a moment.

"I took pink and purple!" Sarah replied, to which you nodded to yourself and ran to your room to pack for your few days of vacation full of sun, beach and sweet drinks.

The few hours of driving were a curse on Joel's back. Plus your singing was finally starting to give him a migraine.

"I love you, but please," he grimaced glancing at each of you, "just shut up," he said to which you rolled your eyes and started talking about bullshit.

You had barely made it to the hotel before you had already dragged Joel out for a swim. The waves lapped against the shore as he watched you run through the water for another hour, splashing and diving. He finally allowed himself to relax, basking in the sun on a lounger and sipping a cold drink.

"Joel!" you shouted running out of the water. He lifted his sunglasses and watched as you ran towards him, all wet with a wide smile.

"What?" he asked when you were close enough. Panting heavily, you stood next to him, cold drops of water fall on his heated skin, making him grimace.

"Move, take some pictures of us because it's a nice sunset." You nodded towards the sky, where pink clouds were starting to form. Joel looked in that direction and then at Sarah, who was squeezing water out of her hair.

"I don't want to," he mumbled and fell back onto the lounger, closing his eyes. It didn't take a moment before he felt the cold water on his stomach. He inhaled loudly, straightening up like a string while you were already squealing towards the ocean.

"Move, man!" you shouted in his direction. Joel rolled his eyes and stood up with a groan. He quickly drank the rest of his drink and took his phone, moving towards you.

"Okay girls, your professional photographer has arrived," he said spreading his hands with a proud smile, standing near you. You both looked at him and then at each other and burst out laughing. His smile disappeared. "What was that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, dad. You know we love you and your great skills in every field," Sarah said amused. Joel rolled his eyes and turned on the camera on his phone. You both immediately got into position smiling widely as he started taking pictures of you. A dozen or so clicks later he grimaced looking at the phone screen.

"Your outfits are terribly overexposing the picture," he commented with a grimace.

"That's the point, dad," Sarah rolled her eyes.

"It has to be neon and colourful," you added. Joel raised his hands in surrender.

"Easy, not both at once or I won't be able to defend myself," he said with amusement and went back to taking pictures of you until the sky changed from pink to dark blue.

Then you all went back to the hotel eating ice cream on the way. Even Joel went wild and chose three scoops for himself.

At the hotel, he finally got a moment of peace from you when you were lost in your phones. You were both lying in bed dressed in his old t-shirts and shorts.

Joel sat in front of the TV long after you both fell asleep. Only then, he allow himself to have one last strong drink before bed.

He was on vacation too, so he could go wild, right?

In the middle of the night, your bladder made its presence known and the few drinks you had during the day wanted to come out. With a groan, you got up, looking around the room. Sarah was sleeping, bent in every direction on her bed, which was a normal sight. Barely lifting your feet from the ground, you left the room and headed down the dark hallway. Your eyes were still glued shut from sleep and you didn't feel like opening them.

You stood in front of the bathroom door and noticed that a beam of light was stretching across the floor. You frowned and knocked on the door, but no one answered. Joel probably forgot to turn off the light before he went to sleep. Nothing new.

You went inside, wincing at the sudden brightness. The hot steam and the sound of the water turning on immediately made it clear to you that Joel hadn't forgotten to turn off the light.

"I just have to pee," you said, making yourself known.

"Fuck me," Joel cursed, scared, and immediately peeked his head out from behind the shower curtain. But you were already half-conscious, sitting on the toilet. "I swear I'll have a heart attack one day," he muttered, turning off the water and reaching for a towel.

You rested your chin on your hand, almost falling asleep while peeing. Joel opened the curtain and stepped out of the shower, all wet. A navy blue towel wrapped low on his hips as he stood in front of the mirror with his back to you. You opened one eyelid, looking in his direction.

"Maybe in twenty years when you're older," you mumbled and reached for the paper. Joel glanced at you in the mirror and without a word began to brush his teeth.

You stood up pulling up your shorts and flushed the toilet. With a sleepy grimace you walked up to him and pushed yourself between him and the sink to wash your hands. He rolled his eyes moving to the side and leaned his hip against the cabinet.

"You should be proud of yourself," you said, catching his attention.

"Hm?" he mumbled indistinctly continuing to brush his teeth. You shook the water off your hands and wiped the rest on your shirt. You moved away from the sink and looked at him scanning his entire body.

"Because you look fuckin’ amazing for your age," you said and turned around walking towards the door. You showed him a thumbs up, opening the door. "Keep it up, man." You disappeared behind the door and Joel couldn't hold back a quiet snort at your words.

The next day Joel made a mistake. He let himself be dragged out shopping. And it wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't for the fact that he followed you around for an hour straight. With everything you bought.

And you were all unconcerned, drinking another Starbucks coffee and gossiping about every handsome boy who passed by and glanced at you, even for a split second. Being a father was hard sometimes. And it was harder when a boy approached one of you, asking for your phone number. Then his fatherly instincts kicked him hard in the ass.

He was like your bodyguard. He scared everyone away while drawing the eyes of mommies at the same time. He can't count the number of times that married women have sent him flirtatious glances. At first he didn't complain, but over time it began to annoy him. He was too busy with your running asses.

"You'll never talk me into this again," he groaned, throwing all the bags on the ground by the door and moving to pour yourself something cold to drink.

And you, as if nothing had happened, took all the things and started to look through everything with a giggle. Joel rolled his eyes, taking a can of cola from the fridge and moving towards you, falling heavily onto the sofa next to you. He watched everything that flew through your hands from the side. He didn't even bother to comment on the fact that you started to make a strange fashion show, trying on all the colorful cloths. He watched some movie in silence and only spoke when you asked for his opinion on a given thing.

"And this one?" you asked, standing in a neon pink swimsuit that had several strings intertwining your waist. Sarah immediately nodded eagerly. Your gaze fell on Joel, waiting for his answer. He raised his hand and with his finger he ordered you to turn around. You turned around your axis and looked at him again. He gave a thumbs up and then went back to watching the movie.

In the evening, you were sitting on the sofa with Joel and browsing through an app on your phone. Joel was watching the news while drinking whiskey. You were both waiting for Sarah to come back from her mission to find a present for her girlfriend. You were lying with your legs on his thighs and with a grimace you scrolled through another post with a photo of your friends.

"Joel," you said suddenly. He mumbled in response without taking his eyes off the TV. "Is there something wrong with me?" you asked, writing an overly nice comment under a photo of your friends in love.

Joel frowned at your question and looked at you.

"What do you mean?"

You sighed and locked your phone, placing it on your chest. You were silent for a moment, wondering how you were going to put your sentence together.

"I mean..." you started, staring at the wall next to you to focus. "I'm twenty-five and I haven't even been on a stupid date in a few years," you explained. Joel immediately understood what you meant and sighed quietly.

"You're fine," he assured, but when he saw your lost look he immediately understood that this was no small matter in that very moment. "Okay..." he sighed, setting his drink on the table next to him. "Come here."

He patted his chest and didn't have to wait even a few seconds when you appeared at his side, curling up and snuggling into his chest. He hugged you tightly, pulling you even closer to him.

"I'm listening."

"My friends are getting married, having kids, even buying a fuckin’ houses," you started immediately. "And what am I doing? No relationship. Boring work. Sitting on strangers' hands."

Joel frowned at your words and looked down at you.

"Strangers?" he repeated, confused.

"Yeah, I mean..." you sighed heavily. "I ran away from my family to be with you two and I never even asked if it bothered you." Joel shook his head, not sure if he understood you correctly.

He immediately understood that you must be having a bad day and he couldn't just tell you that you've gotten stupider with age.

“Baby, you know I’m happy you’re with us. No matter how many times we fight, how many times you throw the trash in the wrong bin, you’ll still be part of the family,” he said, running his fingers through your hair. There was silence, broken only by the quiet sounds of the TV. For a moment, you stared blindly at the watch on his wrist.

“Will you promise me something?” you asked quietly.

“Anything, sweet girl.”

You snuggled closer to his chest so he immediately hugged you tighter.

"When Sarah moves out with her girlfriend, you'll be the only one left," you said letting him know something that was inevitable. His heart beat faster at the thought that his daughter would soon start her own life. "Will you promise me, that no matter what happens, we'll always be able to count on each other?" you asked looking up at him with those innocent eyes of yours.

Joel smiled warmly and moved closer placing a strong kiss on your forehead. You closed your eyes staying in that moment for as long as you can.

"No matter what," he whispered against your skin and kissed you again in the same place.

You smiled at each other when he pulled away from you. And for a moment you felt strange. As if some switch in your mind turned on. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his warm chocolate irises that were the color of honey in the sun. Joel continued to gently stroke your hair looking at you with that caring glint in his eye. Your breathing quickened as the silence between you began to drag on long enough for him to notice.

You swallowed hard as something else began to appear in his gaze. The warmth began to turn into seriousness and something else. You weren't even aware of it when your face slowly began to approach his until your breath began to fan his lips. Joel didn't move a millimeter, watching carefully. He didn't move away or move closer.

He didn't do anything, until your gaze fell on his lips and his cock twitched.

Then the door to the apartment opened with a bang.

You jumped on the spot, scared, and you both looked towards the main door. Joel tightened his arm around your shoulders, not letting you move. Your heart jumped into your throat when you heard Sarah's quiet murmurs before the door closed behind her.

You immediately returned to your previous position and buried your cheek in his chest as if you wanted to hide from the world.

"Public transport in this city is a joke," Sarah mumbled as she entered the small living room and threw her bag on the armchair next to the sofa. She sighed heavily looking at the program that was playing on the TV and sent a delayed glance your way. "What about her?" she frowned as she watched you snuggle into Joel's side.

"She's being dramatic because her friends got married," he explained staring at the TV. He was acting completely normal while your heart was going through something close to a heart attack at the time.

"So nothing new," she shrugged with a stupid smile.

"Fuck you," you burst out laughing glancing at her.

Sarah smiled wider before she walked closer and sat down on the other side of Joel and snuggled into his side as well. He sighed loudly and hugged his daughter.

"My two grown up girls need to cuddle up to their old man? Sweet," he commented amusedly, then he placed a kiss on Sarah's head and then yours.

But he kept his lips on yours much longer.

You were lying on the bed, tossing and turning. You tried to fall asleep but your mind decided to recall every single detail of this evening. You glanced at the clock on the dresser and growled when you saw that it was the middle of the night and you still hadn't slept a wink. You saw no point in further suffering. There was no point in even trying to fall asleep.

You sighed as you got up and quietly left the room, going to the kitchen. You poured yourself some tap water and leaned against the counter, calmly taking sips. You started looking around at all the cabinets and walls to somehow kill time. Finally, you looked towards the living room and almost spat out the water from your mouth.

"Fuck," you cursed, feeling your heart start to pound in your chest at the sight of Joel who was sitting in the dark on the sofa and looking in your direction.

You put your hand on your raging heart and looked at him with wide eyes.

"What the fuck Joel?!" you shouted in a whisper, putting the glass in the sink and slowly walking around the kitchen island. "What are you doing here?" you asked, standing by the sofa.

You noticed that he was holding a glass of what was probably his favorite alcohol. There was a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the table, at which you rolled your eyes, sighing heavily.

"How much did you drink?" You raised an eyebrow, but he remained silent, just looking at you. You watched him, waiting for any reaction from him, but he was like a stone. You sighed, opening your mouth to continue, but this time he interrupted you.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" he asked, unsettling you. You blinked a few times, your lips parted because you didn't expect such a question.

"I couldn't sleep," you explained indifferently, shrugging your shoulders.

"Why?" he asked immediately in a serious tone. This tone made you straighten up a bit more.

"It's too hot."

"Too hot," he repeated, nodding and looking away from you. He raised his glass and took a sip of whiskey. Silence fell between you. You nervously shifted your weight from one foot to the other, feeling the strange atmosphere that had settled between you. It was safest to retreat now.

"Okay, I'm going-"

"And do you know why I can't sleep?" he interrupted you, staring blankly into space. You felt your insides tighten. You probably didn't want to know the answer to that question. Not knowing seemed like a much safer option now.

"Why?"

Why couldn't your mouth work with your mind?

Joel snorted humorlessly and slowly moved his gaze to you.

"Because my daughter's best friend, who is like a daughter to me, looked at me in a way she shouldn't," he said seriously and took another sip of whiskey. You were silent, staring at him with a lost look. Your heart was already in your throat and cold sweat was running down your back.

Fuck. You didn't want to know that answer.

"Joel, listen-"

"And you know what's the worst of it all?" he interrupted you, frowning again. You fell silent, not wanting to upset him. He leaned down to put the glass on the table. "That I liked it more than I should have," he said, resting his elbows on his knees and staring at the remaining alcohol in the glass.

Your stomach did a somersault when you realized the meaning of his words. You could barely catch your breath as his gaze slowly traveled down your body to your face.

He liked it.

"So go back to your room if you don't want me to do something we'll both regret," he added warningly.

You felt incredibly hot and oxygen suddenly became a luxury item. You stood there as if frozen, clenching your thighs tightly as his gaze traveled down your body.

He looked down, shaking his head in disbelief, and after a moment a quiet snort left his lips. The silence around you was only interrupted by your heavy breathing.

"Fuck it," he growled under his breath before he got up from the sofa in the blink of an eye and found himself in front of you. His lips crashed painfully against yours, making you groan. The breath in your lungs froze as his hand tangled in your hair, pulling you closer to him. You dug your nails into his arms as he began to push against you.

His soft lips contrasted with his rough stubble. The taste of whiskey appeared on your tongue as he crept into your mouth. Butterflies formed in your stomach, yielding to his every move.

The mature man's lips tasted completely different.

They were tart. Rough. Strong.

Better.

Joel sensed that you weren't moving away from him. You weren't trying to free yourself. So his hands appeared on your waist. Big masculine hands.

He slid down, tightening his fingers on your hips, and tugged you, pulling you closer. You moaned, overwhelmed by everything. His cock quivered, which you felt on your stomach.

"Joel…" you whispered, but his kisses silenced you.

"One time. No one will know," he answered your unasked question.

His hands tightened on your body, making his hard cock dig more into your stomach. You moaned, melting under his touch. Joel took this as your consent and in one move, he pushed you onto the sofa. You fell with your whole body onto the soft material, out of breath. For a moment, you stared at the ceiling, but the sound of the package being torn apart caught your attention.

You lifted your head, catching your gaze on Joel, who was slowly putting a condom on his cock. Your pulse quickened as you realized that this was all real.

Or maybe you were dreaming.

But you didn't want to wake up then.

Your head fell back down as you tried to control your racing heart. You almost squealed when his fingers caught the waistband of your shorts and in one movement he pulled them down your hips. You shivered feeling the couch give way under his weight and after a moment his warm hands spread your thighs just so he could be there.

You locked eyes as he hovered over you and you could tell right away that you were both equally terrified by what was happening. But it seemed like it was too late to forget everything. Not when his hand slid down to your pussy.

"Not a word," he whispered warningly and ran his fingers over your leaking hole.

You moaned closing your eyes and his hand immediately found your lips. You looked at him with wide eyes as he looked at you so intensely that you felt smaller than you were.

"Shut up," this time he growled. His fingers ran over your slit again spreading all the moisture. Your moan died in his hand and that satisfied him. "You're so fucking wet," he growled frowning as he massaged your clit and a moment later he plunged two fingers inside you. You arched your back, moaning louder. “Shhh.”

He began to slowly fuck you with his fingers, watching as you tilted your head back further and further each time he curled them inside you.

“Yes baby, just like that,” he whispered under his breath as he felt you tighten around his fingers and your hips push themselves toward him. His two fingers were more than enough to make you feel filled.

They were fuckin’ thick and your tight hole didn't need more to come. You arched your back, moaning into his hand.

"Such a good girl," he whispered, speeding up the movements of his fingers to prolong your orgasm. You arched under him as the wet sound of how fast he pushed his fingers into you echoed around the room.

Only when you started to pull away from the over-simulation, he remove his fingers from you and take his hand from your mouth. You gasped for air, starting to pant heavily, but he didn't give you even half a minute to catch your breath. You felt something delicate slide over your wet entrance.

You purred impatiently when he ran his cock along the entire length of your slit and positioned himself at the entrance again. You already knew it was thick. You shifted anxiously, preparing yourself for the fact that it could hurt.

"Relax because I don't want my dick to fall off," he said feeling you clench so hard around nothing that he couldn't even enter you. You shivered and took a deep breath relaxing all your muscles at once.

And then Joel immediately entered you halfway with a moan. And you didn't even have time to moan because his hand was on your mouth again.

"So fucking tight," he groaned looking down as his dick disappeared more and more inside you. You almost squealed when he pushed into you with a strong movement to the very end.

He didn't even give you a chance to get used to his size because he immediately started moving his hips. Back and forth every time panting heavily. His large hand completely drowned out your moans leaving you helpless.

"I fuckin’ hate condoms," he growled and sped up thrusting into you. He looked at your face noticing the tears that were gathering at the ends of your eyes. He smiled leaning closer. "I bet, without that latex, your pussy would feel like heaven."

You cried into his hand, and he only smiled wider and began thrusting into you harder, going as deep as he could. Until the fucking couch began to squeak with every movement.

He groaned throatily closing his eyes for a moment when he felt you tighten around him. And then his eyes met yours again. But he was looking at you differently.

"Do you know how your pink panties cut into that little cunt?" he growled, speeding up the movements of his hips.

The first tears fell from your eyes. You felt nothing but the weight of his body on yours and how his cock was bringing you closer and closer to fulfillment at a deadly pace.

"You might as well go naked on that fucking beach. I wouldn't see the difference," he groaned, burying his face in your neck and digging his fingers harder into your cheeks. "Oh fuck," he panted feeling how quickly you were able to bring him to such a state.

You felt his lips begin to place wet kisses on your neck and cheek until your eyes met again.

"You gonna come?" he asked, panting heavily. He had to be sure that you would come from his cock only. Otherwise he would have to try harder, but that was the least of his problems.

You nodded, looking at him with watery eyes. Joel smiled widely, pushing his cock deeper into you.

"Good girl," he purred, placing another kiss on your cheek before he removed his hand from your mouth. You inhaled and moaned when his lips immediately attacked yours in a deep kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him even closer, so that all your moans were lost in his mouth. Only now did he feel what a mess you were.

Your tongue trembled with each kiss, just like his cock in your pussy. His throaty moans echoed between your legs until you started to tremble. Joel hummed in pleasure as he felt you tighten around him more and more.

You chased your orgasm and he happily sped up his movements for you. Until you finally came with a broken squeal. Waves of orgasm ran through your body, loosening and tightening all your muscles over and over again.

Joel stopped, unable to move from how hard you were clenching around him. He growled as his cock quivered in response and he needed nothing more. He only pushed his hips harder against yours, coming with a throaty groan. Your contractions drew everything he could give you from him.

Your kisses slowly became slower and slower as you both came down from your peaks, breathing heavily. Joel pulled away, burying his face in your neck and trying to calm your racing heart. You gently ran your fingers through his hair, breathing slower and slower.

"You know what?" you asked in a whisper, breaking the silence.

"What?" he mumbled, his bass echoing through your body with a shiver.

"I'm on pills," you announced.

Silence fell. A soft smile bloomed on your lips as Joel lifted himself up on his hands to look at you. His skin was glistening with sweat.

“Good that you’re saying it now,” he retorted, rolling his eyes, and you snorted quietly in amusement.

Joel couldn’t help the smirk that spread across his lips and he leaned down, gently connecting your lips. His tongue grazed yours before he pulled away again.

“Then there has to be one more one time”he whispered against your lips and nuzzled your nose. “I need to feel that pussy without any barriers,” he purred and connected your lips again.

[oneforthemunny]

what about mafia!eddie and reader going through a rough patch and all they do is fight and kitten tells him that they should take a break and i'll leave the rest up to you....

oof ok let's 180 back to angst. buckle up angsty babes!

"Maybe," Your voice trembled, sucking in a shaky breath. "Maybe I should go stay with my parents... for a while."

Eddie's head whipped around, eyes wide with something you couldn't quite detect, a new look teetering between anger and something worse. It made your spine tingle with chills, icy and fearful.

"What?" Eddie's voice was soft, much quieter than the raised tone from before.

"I-I think," You tried to still your voice, throat raw and aching from the back and forth screaming match of the night. "I think I- we need to be apart for a while." You whispered, refusing to meet his gaze, looking at the couch behind him instead.

"Why?" Eddie barked, teeth gritting and baring in fury, heart pounding with a fear he hadn't felt in a long time.

"Eddie," You sighed, shaking your head at him. "Seriously? All we do is fight." A fresh wave of tears rolled over you, nose burning.

"That's not-"

"-Eddie," You stopped him, gaze meeting his. You could see it now, could see that the foreign look was fear. Your heart sank, taking a shuddering breath to calm yourself. "We're just... We can't stop fighting."

Eddie stilled, frozen across from you. "I'm tired of fighting." You admitted softly, shoulders slumping in defeat.

Days, weeks of bickering- back and forth until your voices were raw, doors slamming, then retreating back with careful apologies, only to repeat the cycle over and over. You were dizzy from it, from trying to get him to see, to understand your point. He was so stubborn.

What started as a what if silly conversation, turned into a bickering, fueled into a full blown fight that seemed never ending.

"You'd be a good dad. You're so good with the boys." You hummed, leaning against his chest.

"Yeah? You'll never know." Eddie scoffed casually.

You frowned, pushing up to look at him. "What?"

Eddie blinked. "C'mon, you know I can't have kids. Not doin' this job. Won't do it to some poor kid."

"But I'll never know?" Your lips pursed. "That's a pretty shitty thing to say to me. Pretty bold." You pushed off of him, out of his hold.

Eddie huffed, running a hand down his face. "Where're you- Seriously? We've talked about this, have we not?"

"Yeah, we have." You huffed, cheeks burning. "But saying I'll never know- do you not see how that's a little rude?"

"What?" Eddie threw his hands up. "You won't. Not with me, anyways."

You gawked at him, surprised, furious, hurt. "You're such a fuckin' asshole. I can't believe you." You snapped, stomping off.

That was the first night. Both of you stubbornly coming for the other, agitation building over and over and over, piling on top of previous fury until you'd finally burst. Leaving you standing here, where you are now, defeated and ready to throw the towel in, too tired to fight.

"I-I- Baby, if this is about the kids thing, look, I told you-"

Your sigh cut Eddie off. "It's not about that." You ran a hand down your face. "I can't- I can't keep trying to explain my side of things when you aren't listen. You won't listen."

"Then what? What is it?" Eddie's franticness turned to angry urgency. "Just say what you mean! Say it!"

You didn't flinch at his anger, at his outburst. Your lip wobbled, taking a deep breath in. "I've said it." You muttered. "I can't- I won't be in a relationship that's one sided." Eddie felt sick at your words.

"I understand that you don't want certain things, and I respect that, I do. But I've changed a lot of things in my life for you, because I love you." You continued, tears brimming your vision. "All I'm asking is for a little change in return. Not with the kids thing-" You cut him off before he could start, sensing what he was going to say.

"But there's two of us in this relationship." You look at him. "I just wish you could try to see my side of things sometimes."

"I do-" Eddie spat in defense.

"-When I'm agreeing with you, you do." You snapped back. "But when it's something you disagree with, you shut me down, dismiss it because what you say is law-"

"-It is not-"

"-And I'm tired of it." You look at him pleadingly. "I think we both need some time apart to figure out what we want. What we do from here."

Eddie felt tears burn, threatening to fall. "I know what I want." He gritted through clenched teeth. "I want you. I've always wanted you. I don't need time to figure out because it's not changing."

You nodded slowly. "I know you do." You whispered. "But this is what I'm talking about. That's what you want."

Eddie felt sick, heart sinking lower and lower into the pit in his stomach. "I need time apart." The room was silent, your voice cutting through. "I need to figure it out."

"Are you- You're breaking up with me?" Eddie sounded petulant, voice crackingly pathetic that he hadn't been since he was a teenager.

Your shoulder shuddered, exhaling shakily. "I didn't say that." You shook your head. "I-I don't want to, that's not what this is. I just... I need to be able to think. We both do."

Eddie blinked, vision bleary with tears that fell. "Alright," He nodded, ignoring the ache in his chest, heart splitting in two. "If that's what you want."

Watching you drive off, slow down the road, Eddie ignored the screaming in his head to run after you. To pull you out of the car, demand you come back, bring you back himself. This is what I'm talking about, your voice played in a painful loop in his mind.

You called him like you said you would, hours later when you got to your parent's house. A quiet, quick phone call. His heart still swelled, lifting when you muttered a fast, "love you" before hanging up.

Sitting in the stillness of the empty house, Eddie had never felt so lonely in his entire life. It was horrifying, thinking that his future could be like this- a life without you in it. Eddie decided right then and there, he'd do whatever he needed to make sure that wasn't his reality.

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 184 }

that green gentleman (things have changed).

single.parent!sung jinwoo x fem!daycare worker reader

{ things have changed for me, and that's okay | i feel the same, i’m on my way, and i say | things have changed for me, and that's okay }

you had simply been tidying up the area, placing all of the toys back in its respective boxes as each child went home with their parent for the evening when you heard your coworkers groaning and talking amongst themselves.

"it appears the father of that child is asking us to keep an eye out for suho, since he's working overtime yet again at the station."

"goodness, i would stay back, but my husband's waiting for me."

"same here, i haven't even picked up my groceries for dinner yet!"

you look back to see the cute, 4 year old boy named sung suho remaining quiet, spending his free time drawing as he surrounded himself with a plethora of crayons. being familiar with suho and his father, sung jinwoo, you knew how difficult and challenging it was for a parent to raise their child on their own.

"sorry ladies, but i couldn't help but hear that sung jinwoo may be late in picking up suho?"

your coworkers heave out yet another sigh. "indeed; honestly, i wish i could stay back, but i've got my own errands to fulfill before i come home and prepare dinner."

"and my own husband is waiting for me as well..."

"if that's the case, why don't i stay here with suho and close up the daycare?"

your coworkers' eyes go wide, with them stating your name in an incredulous, but grateful manner. "you'd do that for us?"

"of course! you ladies go on and head home. i'll keep suho company and wait for his father to arrive later tonight."

after receiving their gratitude at least a hundred times, you watch as your coworkers pack up and leave the daycare, leaving you alone with the tiny boy.

smoothing your apron, you come closer toward suho, seeing a new stack of drawings settled next to him. no one else knew this, but you developed quite a fondness for suho, often admiring his imagination and how colorful his drawings were.

"hey there, suho. your papa says that he'll pick you up later, so since it's just me and you, you don't mind spending some time playing with me, do you?"

suho vehemently shakes his head while flashing you a wide smile that had a few gaps between his front teeth. "hello miss, and i don' mind playing with you til daddy gets here!"

you giggle along with him and press a finger against your lips, playfully telling suho to remain quiet (as if you were keeping a well kept secret), "since it's just us, how about i get you some snacks? would you like some pudding and strawberry milk?"

suho's eyes go wide as he presses both hands against his mouth, not saying a word as he gave you a series of nods.

"okay, i'll be right back with those snacks."

you bask in suho's sweet giggles, going into the fridge to grab a cup of pudding with a carton of strawberry milk. returning to suho, you help him open his pudding and milk while giving him a plastic spoon. as the toddler enjoys his snacks, you trailed your eyes over to the stack of drawings.

"mind if i look and admire your drawings, suho?"

suho simply gives you a nod with a spoon in his mouth. you thank him and pick up the stack of pictures, tracing over each crayon mark. there were lots of purple and black shadows that surrounded figures that appeared to be suho with his father. despite how malevolent the shadows seemed, the painted smiles on each of the shadows' faces dissipated any amount of concern you held. if these were suho's imaginary friends, then it was clear that they made him happy (with his favorite one being in the shape of a giant ant.)

as you turn the page, you saw a drawing that broke your heart. in it, suho and his father were settled on the couch while watching the television with a frown on their faces. on the screen was what appeared to be a blonde woman smiling with a microphone in hand as she waved at the cameras.

"that's mama." suho says with a bit of a sad tone. you nod and place the drawing of his mother back on the table for suho to see. he was frowning, pushing aside his empty cup of pudding while pointing a finger at her. "papa says she left when i was two... i don't remember her, but papa says she's happy in the t.v., singing and taking pictures."

"i see. your mom is very pretty?"

suho gives you yet another nod. "yeah, papa says she was so pretty that she left us."

suddenly, tears fill his grey eyes when he turns his gaze to you, filled with a desperation as he shakily asked, "did mama leave because i wasn't a good boy?"

"oh no, honey. no no no, this has nothing to do with you." you automatically bring suho into your embrace, gently caressing at his hair as he cried against your apron. "sometimes, adults have dreams they wish to achieve, too, and such dreams make them blinded. i'm sure your mama still loves and thinks about you, she just wishes to make her dreams come true first and foremost."

suho continues to cry while in your arms, yet still, you remain by his side, comforting him. you trace random shapes against his back while humming a lullaby. soon enough, the tears slowly begin to cease as you heard the soft sounds of his breathing.

with a fondness in your gaze, you turn suho around so that you were cradling him in your arms, rocking him back and forth while placing a gentle kiss against his forehead...

"suho." a deep yet breathless voice was heard calling out to the little boy, and as you trailed your eyes forward, you were met with what appeared to be a much older version of suho himself-

you were met with jinwoo, his father.

{ ... }

jinwoo was cursing all the way toward the daycare, berating himself for being so caught up in yet another cold case. the time was nearing 10 in the evening, which was past suho's bedtime as he rushed toward the daycare.

admittedly, ever since cha hae-in's departure (leading to their inevitable divorce), it was difficult for jinwoo to care for his son. of course, he had his loyal shadow soldiers that protected and kept watch over him-

but what suho needed was that soft, maternal touch he was certain his son had been deprived from when hae-in left and gave him complete custody. in her own way, jinwoo knew that hae-in loved her son-

yet the promise of being more than a simple housewife was a calling that such a gorgeous woman like his ex-wife could not ignore. she had big dreams when she was younger, but was unable to reach them until recently. their child was barely 2 years old when an agent caught sight of her and made her an offer she could not refuse.

jinwoo spent months arguing back and forth with his wife, wondering why their son wasn't enough (why he wasn't enough) to make her stay-

but in the end, he ultimately relented and let her go.

after all, he loved her enough to let her go and help her pursue her dreams-

even if it didn't involve either him or suho.

the memory of it all was enough to make jinwoo's heart twist, his hands clutching at the steering wheel when he arrives at the daycare, parking haphazardly before tossing the door open. he runs a hand across his unruly locks of hair, entering the building while calling out his son's name.

"suho-"

he trails his gaze forward, only to feel his throat closing up in response at the sight before him.

jinwoo sees suho in the embrace of a kind young woman. she meets his gaze while placing a finger up against her lips, humming a lullaby as suho remained asleep in her arms. his heart was racing, practically melting at the sight of her. when she finishes her lullaby, she beckons jinwoo closer, allowing him to take suho within his embrace.

he lets out soft coos of his son's name, feeling him stir the tiniest bit before settling within his arms. he looks back at the woman and thanks her, seeing her name tag while referring to her by her first name, "thank you, for caring for my son. and ah... i apologize for arriving so late."

she merely giggles, waving off his concern while taking off her apron, hanging it somewhere before grabbing her bag. "don't worry about it, mr. sung. it's tough working as an investigator. i don't mind spending a few extra hours keeping watch over suho until you pick him up."

jinwoo thanks the woman once more, this time with his eyebrows furrowed in response. "say, it's getting pretty late. is your boyfriend or partner picking you up?"

he hears a choked laugh coming from the woman. "ah, no mr. sung. i'm afraid i'm single and must take the train back to my place."

"the trains stop running by midnight, ma'am. you'll never make it." jinwoo tells her with a whisper of urgency. "i'm sorry, this is all my fault. let me give you a ride back."

before she could even protest, jinwoo's voice takes on a more authoritative tone. "trust me on this; it's late at night and you're a young woman. do you know how much the rates of assaults have increased this past year? there are millions of depraved men still out there."

his words end up striking a nerve within her, and he watches as she purses her lips before nodding, "well, okay mr. sung. if it isn't too much trouble-"

"don't worry, it's no trouble at all. after all, it's my fault that you had to be here so late. and please, call me jinwoo."

while keeping his sleeping son within his embrace, he watches the kind daycare lady shut off all the lights before locking up the daycare, following him to his car. as he opens up the backseat, he had a hard time getting a good grip on suho in order to transfer him to his carseat. it was during this moment that jinwoo witnessed her unconditional kindness once more.

like it was second nature to her, jinwoo watches as the woman gently ease suho away from his embrace, angling her body so that she had better access to the carseat. with gentle movements, she places suho in his carseat while buckling his seatbelt. "i'll remain in the backseat with this little guy. i can tell you my address as well."

taken aback by her easygoing nature and genuine kindness, jinwoo could only manage a nod in response, watching as she sits next to suho's carseat while he settles in the driver's seat in a bit of a haze. turning on his phone, he types in the woman's address and begins to back out of the parking lot.

with each stop light, jinwoo couldn't help but sneak glances at the kind woman, seeing the way she kept a protective arm around suho's carseat while looking out the window. seeing how soft and nurturing she was makes jinwoo smile, filling his heart with a warmth that he hadn't felt in a long time.

after what seemed like mere seconds, jinwoo arrives at her apartment complex. he was filled with a reluctance to see her go, especially when she gives suho a gentle kiss against his hair. "night little guy, i'll see you tomorrow."

giving jinwoo one last thank you, she exits the car and makes her way toward her apartment building, with jinwoo remaining parked in the front, not moving until she was completely inside of the building.

"papa..." jinwoo's ears perk when he hears suho calling out to him.

"yeah suho?"

jinwoo tilts his head back to get a good look at suho, seeing him yawn before telling him, "i really like her."

he hums in agreement, "well, you've got good tastes, suho. i really like her, too."

suho lets out another yawn before falling back asleep, making jinwoo smile as he started the car once more, thinking about how the next time he went to pick up suho that he'd need to place a soldier within her shadow...

{ ... }

you had fallen into a bit of a routine with jinwoo for the months that followed.

more often than not, jinwoo would end up working overtime at the station while you would always offer to keep watch over suho. and during those late nights when jinwoo picks suho up, he would always take you home.

but lately, it seemed as though you were steadily doing more... intimate activities.

for example, during the weekends where jinwoo was able to take some time off, he would pick you up after your shift at the daycare center and invite you out to dinner with him and suho. whether it be to a nice restaurant, or to a comforting, home cooked meal made by jinwoo himself-

it truly was nothing short of bliss to you.

and it was during moments like these that you found yourself falling utterly and irrevocably in love with the man named sung jinwoo. everything about him was just so perfect to you, and you found yourself thinking on how crazy his ex-wife was for leaving such a perfect family behind-

but you digress, since you were certain that it was simply the jealousy getting to you.

it was your day off, and you were simply doing mundane chores when you heard a knock at your door. drying your hands against a towel, you answer the door, only to feel your eyes go wide when jinwoo was found in front of your apartment. he was dressed comfortably in a black turtleneck sweater with matching jeans and a pair of converses, holding in his hand a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

"hey, do you mind spending the rest of your day with me?" he gives you a sheepish smile, placing the lovely bouquet within your hands. you felt flabbergasted, gaping a bit as you looked around for any signs of suho.

"suho's with my parents for the day, so it's just me and you." as if reading your mind, jinwoo reassures you, placing a hand within the pocket of his dark jeans.

"oh, well, yes! i don't mind spending my day off with you. hold on, i'll place these flowers within a vase, and i'll grab my bag, then we can go."

jinwoo chuckles while telling you to take your time, simply watching you while in your doorway as you fluttered around your living room. after filling a vase with some fresh water, you place the lovely bouquet inside and grab your purse from your room. you join jinwoo after locking your door, smiling up at him as he takes your hand in his.

feeling the heat against your cheeks, you remain silent, simply allowing jinwoo to interlock your fingertips together with his. "let's take a walk, there's something i'd like to talk to you about."

you nod, "okay, lead the way, jinwoo."

he tightens his hold on your hand, walking with you out of your apartment complex. remaining on the sidewalk, you walked for about 20 minutes before arriving at a nearby park. he keeps on walking deeper into the park, not stopping until arriving at a gorgeous garden filled with a rainbow color of blooms. spotting an empty bench in the midst of such a wonderful garden, jinwoo gestures at you to sit as he settles beside you.

you both remain quiet, simply admiring the scenery. you were in the midst of counting how many flowers there were in a single section when jinwoo calls out your name. you feel him taking a hold of your left hand and begin speaking.

"you have sparked a fire in me that i didn't think even existed anymore."

the way jinwoo's voice cracked made you look back at him, your eyes being filled with empathy. you felt him giving your hand a squeeze when he meets your gaze. "ever since my ex wife left me to pursue her dreams, i buried myself in my work to forget about the pain of her abandonment. i did my best to raise suho on my own because of how much i love him, but it hasn't been easy.

what suho needs is a nurturing touch of a mother. he needs a gentle and kind love, that unconditional type of love that his own biological mother was unable to give.

truly, i was at a loss; uncertain of what i could even do to help him fill that void. and when i felt as though i were close to giving up and losing it all, that's when you came into my life."

your breath hitches in response to his confession, feeling him reaching out to you with his free hand as he cupped at your face. "you were like the sole beacon of light my soul was searching for. when i saw you that night, cradling my son so gently within your embrace, i knew that my heart was yours."

jinwoo finally lets go of your hand, making you let out a gasp when you saw a beautiful diamond engagement ring settled against your left ring finger. "j-jinwoo-"

"i know, i know, you may find me to be a rash man, proposing to you so suddenly, but i obtained such a trait from my own father." jinwoo lets out a rich chuckle while pressing a kiss against your ring finger, "the sungs have always been men who knew what they wanted and would do anything to pursue it-

and the only thing i want is you..."

jinwoo's eyes begin to glow purple just then, and you felt him framing at your face as he presses kisses that were no heavier than dew against your parted lips, "so please, marry me. make me and suho the happiest boys in the world. suho needs you- i need you in order to feel whole again."

with tears streaming down your face, you lean forward to press your lips against jinwoo's in a searing kiss, knowing that you would simply be a fool to reject his proposal.

[ epilogue ]

suho was getting ready for his first day of school, face frowning into the mirror as he kept trying to adjust his bowtie-

yet still, it seemed like no matter what he did, it forever remained within its lopsided state. with a pout, he stomps his feet and marches his way over to you.

"mom! i can't get this!"

you giggle and put aside the book you were reading, resting a hand over your rounded belly as you beckoned your son closer to you, "come here, sweetheart, let mommy help."

suho hums, remaining still like a good boy as you fixed his bowtie, settling it perfectly in the middle of his shirt. he gives you a toothy grin and leans down to kiss your stomach. "mwah! is my baby sister ready to come out yet?"

"not quite yet, honey, but soon, just have patience, okay?"

suho gives you another pout, ready to say something else when jinwoo's whistle was heard echoing throughout the house, "come on, suho! it's time for school! give your mama and little sister one more kiss, and i'll take you!"

suho listens to jinwoo's words, giving your cheek and your rounded belly yet another kiss before skipping away from you and toward his father, "bye mama!"

jinwoo gazes down at his son with a fondness, catching your stare while giving you a wink before leaving the house. and as your husband and son departs, you were aware of the shadowy wisps that surround you, making you smile as you knew that you would forever be protected by the man who was the absolute love of your life.

a.n. - an early father's day gift for the daddiest of them all lmaooo i'm sorry i need to write something fluffy and sweet for my hubby due to the stress i'm feeling. currently unedited, but i'll make any changes once this is posted 😭

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.