#but my shoes which I can't store anywhere but by the door are in the way! and it's like I want her to trip and break her neck!

[paladin--strait]

while we wait for the poll results, here's a little something for y'all!

jamie drysdale x reader

tw: blood, periods, language

~

my eyes snap open as soon as I feel the familiar stomach pain and the added heat between my legs. "shit..." i say out loud to myself. making sure I keep my legs closed, I sneak out if jamie's arms and wiggle off the bed.

my period products are under the counter in our shared bathroom, which makes it easy for me to just waddle into the bathroom after grabbing my underwear from the ground by the bed and not worry about getting blood all over the floor.

I'm about to open the box of pads when I feel how light it is. mentally cursing to myself and praying that there's at least one left. I open the box, and there's not one pad in the box. or in the cabinet at all. no pads, no tampons, just nothing.

I can feel the tears well up in my eyes as I sit myself down in the toilet. the tears start to flow when I hear a knock at the door. "baby? are you in there?" the sound of my boyfriend's gentle voice fills my ears, calming me almost immediately.

"yeah I'm here." I wrap my underwear in toilet paper and stand up, walking to the bathroom door and opening it up to see jamie standing there with a concerned look on his face. "are you alright?" he immediately steps forward, setting his hands on my waist when he sees my red and tear stained face.

"jamie, I got my period and I have no pads or tampons or anything and I got blood on your sheets and there's toilet paper in my underwear and my stomach hurts and I don't know what to do." the words come rushing out of my mouth and I start sobbing into jamie's chest as he wraps his arms around me, hands rubbing my back while he tries to calm me down.

"hey, baby. look at me." jamie says, pulling away from me and setting his hands on my shoulders, "I'll go get your things and you get in the bath. the store is only 15 minutes from here and I can leave and be back within an hour. just send me a picture of what you need and I'll pick it up."

"jamie, I can't send you to do that in the middle of the night! it's too much of a hassle and you have morning skate in a few hours!" I say, wiping my tears before I hold his hand.

"baby my alarm goes off soon anyway, so that doesn't matter. all that matters to me right now is that you have what you need and you're comfortable. which you're clearly not. so go run yourself a bath and I'll be back soon." he says, walking away while he talks to put on his shirt, shorts, and shoes. "text me a picture and I'll be back soon. I love you so much." he sends me one of those smiles that make me melt, heat creeping up my cheeks. jamie gives me a kiss before grabbing his keys and going to the car.

I run to grab my phone and take pictures of the products for him and send them to him as soon as possible. jamie sends back a thumbs up emoji. I then get another text from him with the words 'I love you babygirl.' right after.

I run the bath with all my favorite bath products and step in, the heat from the water soothing my cramps and helping my stress to flow away. I can soon fell the tiredness creeping up to me and I soon find sleep overtaking me.

-

"baby? you fell asleep in the bath. come on and get dressed. the waters cold." I hear jamie's voice and feel his hand brushing against my cheek. "come on honey." he helps me step out and put my clothes on. he already had my products out and ready for me to use, so I didn't even have to open it all up.

after getting all my clothes on, I step over to jamie and give him the biggest hug ever. thanking him for taking care of me and going to get my products for me in the middle of the night.

"do you want me to brush your hair? you can go to sleep while I brush it." jamie says, grabbing the brush out of my hand.

I agree and we sit down on the bed, I tell him not to put any product in my hair since I'll probably end up getting another shower later on before I go anywhere. he puts on some calming music and brushes my hair out for me while telling me about how he had to ask a worker for help on finding the same feminine products that were in the picture I sent him.

he also tells me that he got me some more medicine for my cramps and he also got me my favorite snacks to eat in the morning.

I end up not sleeping while he brushes my hair. but soon after jamie hands me this little dark brown bear that has on a flyers shirt. "I found it at the store and thought you would like it." I smile and take it from him. "jamie it looks like you! its fur looks like your hair!!" I laugh a little and jamie does too.

we end up falling asleep in each other's arms. jamie still has his shoes on from his run to the convenience store and I'm still holding onto the bear jamie gave me. I think I got some of the best sleep of my life.

although, falling asleep in my sweet boyfriend's arms will never fail to make my sleep and his even better. I love the sense of protection I get from having him there with me. it helps me to keep calm and have less stress before I sleep. and I think the same thing happens for jamie too.

I'm glad we have each other and I'll always be there for him. just as he is there for me.

[leafs-lover]

Too Far Gone - The Contract

A/N: Can't write part 55 to save my life 😭 but we have another unedited bonus chapter, giving you a little glimpse into their life in the future. If you're not reading the fic, don't worry this is a stand alone piece.

Warnings: Smut (p in v, creampie), dirty talk, swearing, mentions of drinking, not really edited

Series masterlist

Word Count: 3100

Tia tried not to give too much thought to Auston’s contract, the media and fans were doing enough of that.

She had enough going on in her life. Maddie had started to sleep through the night then she started teething. Taylour was wild and energetic, always busy with Felix, wanting to see Brody from down the street or Carter from his class, and still impartial to Maddie. He might have stopped asking “when is she leaving’ but he has shown no interest in his sibling, sometimes becoming frustrated when his parents are busy changing her diaper and need a minute before giving him attention.

Tia has read books, spent hours online reading blogs and stories from other moms in similar situations, trying everything to get them to bond without forcing it, and it’s just not working. She always saw herself with a big family, but more importantly a loving family, how can they be one when Taylour is generally disinterested in her? 

And if it’s not the kids, or Felix’s limp that sporadically appears for a few hours, it’s her line. She used TikTok to advertise and sales erupted. She found herself with a massive list of pending orders, stores in Montreal, Toronto, Brooklyn, and Scottsdale were reaching out to stock her pieces. Made with Grace expanded from a spare room with a sewing machine, to a studio space with a business manager, marketing manager and two additional seamstresses, but even then she doesn’t feel like she can keep up.

So, when Tia told people she didn’t really have time to stress over his contract, she wasn’t lying. It’s not to say they hadn’t talked about their future; they just hadn’t sat down and fully weighed out the options.

She told Auston she would follow him anywhere, that they’d be happy so long as they were together, and she meant every single word but Toronto is a part of her, a part of them, and it would break her to leave it all behind. It’s where both of their children were born, where Taylour learned to walk and talk, where Maddie will learn all those things, where they found each other but more importantly themselves.

Tia wanted Auston to be as objective as possible with his decision, but she knew she had to tell him of her preference.

“And right here.” Judd points to the line at the bottom of the page and Auston once again scribbles his signature. He then flips the final page over, then smiles.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.” Judd nods. “You are going to be a Maple Leaf for four more years.”

Auston did give some thought to free agency. There are a few teams that have the cap space to meet his needs, and those that don’t would likely move some parts to make it work. He had options, lots of options, but none of them would send him down York Street after practice, right past her studio. And if he didn’t drive past then studio then he couldn’t stop in and raid her snack drawer, lie about needing a button fixed just to sneak in a kiss or two, or just watch his wife hard at work. He wouldn’t be able to take Maddie and Felix on walks through the park where he first felt Tia come back to him, nor could he drive past his old condo where they finally said what they had been holding onto for so long. They couldn’t go to dinner at Beck’s and Camille’s condo, which is actually Tia’s old condo, and see the exact spot where he first held Taylour.

Toronto is home. That was the only reason he needed.

 “Tia and the family must be excited.”

“They will be.” Auston smiles wide and grabs at the beak of his hat to adjust it. “I decided to keep this from them, thought it’d be a nice surprise.”

“It will be.” The two men move toward the door where Judd slips into his shoes. “Don’t celebrate too much,” he winks, then steps outside, leaving Auston alone.

He quickly whips his phone from his pocket and opens twitter. Without so much as a second thought he types up a tweet, his first tweet since March. The second he posts the tweet; he is sharing it on his Instagram then heads for the sliding door.

The Arizona heat blasts his face the second the door opens. Felix’s nails on the concrete are heard as he eagerly scurries over from the pool, leaving wet pawprints all over the patio. Auston crouches down and scratches him behind the ears and chuckles when his warm tongue presses to his cheek.

“I know, I’m excited too.” Auston grins, scratching the pups head. “Should we go tell them?” Felix’s tail wags faster and he lets out an excited yip. “Yeah? Let’s go.”

“Hey T.” Auston starts as he sits on the edge of the pool and dangles his feet in the water, Felix plops down beside him for more pets.

“Hey, how was your meeting?” Tia wades through the waist deep water with Maddie on her hip and makes her way to the edge. When Maddie sees Auston her tiny fists open and close, and some incoherent babbles come from her lips. “Is that Daddy?” Tia bounces her a few times before handing Maddie over to him.

“Hi princess.” Auston hooks his arms under her armpits, then brings her in close, peppering her with kisses, hoping to hear one of those giggles she had been letting out as of late. “Meeting was good.” Auston blows a raspberry to her stomach, laughing when her legs kick out.

“Daddy, watch!” Taylour stands at the edge of the pool with his toes hanging over. His arms go up above his head, and he jumps into the air and dives into the water. When he pops his head up a few seconds later, he spits out some water and smiles.

“Wow, you’re getting good at that.” Auston replies, adjusting the brim of Maddie’s bucket hat to fold up and be out of her eyes.

“You weren’t even watching; you were paying attention to Maddie.” Taylour protests.

“I can do both Taylour.” Auston informs him. “But why don’t you show me another one?”

“Fine.” Taylour rolls his eyes and starts swimming to the edge of the pool.

“Hopefully you gave Maddie less sass than him,” Auston jokes. This time he cradles Maddie in close and locks his gaze on Taylour as he positions himself at the pools edge to dive again.

“It’s not funny.” Tia mutters while clapping for Taylour when he pokes his head up after another dive.

“Your dives are great Taylour, arms are really straight.” Auston encourage him.

“Mhm.” He proudly smiles while treading water. “You want to play basketball?”

“Give me five minutes and I’ll get my bathing suit on.”

“Okay.” He swims over to the shallow end to retrieve the basketball, that catches Felix’s attention and he jumps in the pool, splashing the three of them, and starts to swim over to Taylour.

“His reaction is perfectly normal, he is adjusting, just at his own speed. You see Instagram?”

“When would I have seen Instagram?” Tia laughs.

Auston unlocks his phone and hands it to her, forcing her focus away from Taylour. Her forehead creases and lips purse as she scrolls through the posts, wondering what exactly she is supposed to be looking for. “Yeah, Mommy is silly, isn’t she?” Auston uses his baby voice to ask Maddie when she coos in his arms. Unable to wait any longer, he takes the phone back and clicks on his story.

She closes his story, then opens the Toronto Maple Leafs page and sees nothing. She searches Wasserman hockey, but again there is nothing, along with Sportsnet, TSN and ESPN. She keeps opening pages, trying to find confirmation of his somewhat cryptic post. Fed up, Auston snatches his phone back which brings her gaze to him.

“You re-signed?” She asks, in disbelief.

“Yeah.”

Butterflies swarm her stomach. “Four years?” 

“Yeah.”

“And you broke the story before anyone else?”

“I was excited.” Auston shrugs, letting his smile grow even wider.

Tia puts her hand on either side of his thighs and pushes herself up. Beads of water roll over her breasts - larger than normal from breastfeeding - down over her stomach and baby weight she can’t seem to shake no matter how hard she tries. Once at eye level with him, Tia presses her lips to his, joyful tears clinging to the corners of her lashes. With Maddie in one hand, Auston brings his other to her hair, wet from the afternoon in the pool, and welcomes the kiss. It’s soft at first but slowly builds to more, his fingers tighten in her hair and her tongue move about his mouth. He can feel the relief wash over her body.

“I’m so happy.” She whispers, choking back tears. “I really wanted to stay.”

“I know.” Of course, he knew. “But you should have told me.”

“Everyone had opinions, I wanted you to make the best decision for your career.”

Auston runs his thumb along her jaw. “You’re the only opinion that matters to me.” 

**

Tia dressed herself in a flowy maroon dress with thick straps. It stopped right at her knee and had a slit that went a few inches up her thigh. She pulled her hair into a simple but stunning bun and managed to apply a little bit of make-up before Maddie woke up from her nap. She fed and changed her, then put Maddie in the newly released mauve coloured polka dot dress with ruffled sleeves along with the matching headband.

She wasn’t overly dressed up (that wasn’t an easy task with unexpected dinner plans and a five-month-old) but the second Auston saw his girls his breath was taken away. He kissed her, almost a little too hard and long, but pulled away then helped load the kids in the car.

They met his family at Modern Oyster Bar & Chophouse. Auston reserved part of the restaurant which provided privacy for their celebration. Tia and Auston kept their phones on silent and tucked away - everybody who knew them was texting to congratulate them, and they just wanted to enjoy the night. And tucked under his arm with cheeks sore from smiling, Tia was doing just that. 

“We’re staying in Toronto?” Taylour probes.

While he begs Tia to take him to every game (even road ones), plays hockey, will show Auston YouTube clips and basically lives and breathes the sport, trades and free agency is all very new to him. He doesn’t understand why Uncle Mike isn’t going to be in Toronto anymore, why he has pictures of Daddy and Uncle Freddie both wearing Leafs jerseys, yet Fred plays for another team, and he certainly doesn’t grasp that there was the potential for them to leave Toronto.

“You sure are.” Brian tells him, gently bouncing Maddie on his thigh, smiling as drool rolls down her chin.

“Maybe without that stress you two can plan your wedding.” Ema beams over her glass of wine.

Auston feels Tia’s body stiffen ever so slightly, but he just laughs. Since the day Auston told his mom he was going to propose Ema has been asking about wedding plans. Once Tia had said yes, she became relentless, never missing an opportunity to ask when the date will be. She understood why they didn’t plan it for last summer given the uncertainty COVID brought and kind of let up once they announced their pregnancy with Maddie, but on more than one occasion Ema brought up how there was months between Tia’s due date and the summer. When Tia and Auston told her they just wanted to enjoy this time as a family without the added stress of planning a wedding, she understood, then tried to get them to lock down a date in 2024.

“Yeah. Maybe.” Auston shrugs.

“Have you even looked at venues?” Brey asks, not in a curious way but a condescending and annoyed way.

She always has been skeptical of their “engagement.” Given her brother declared he was going to marry Tia after one date, FaceTimed with the family at least a dozen times while out shopping for rings because it had to be just right, blew up the family group chat making sure everyone knew not to say anything and to act normal so she wouldn’t suspect anything, then spent the entire day pacing and on the phone ensuring every single detail was perfect, she expected a very short engagement. So, when they reply “we’re not in a rush” anytime someone asks, accidentally call each other husband or wife only to backpedal and say something along the lines of ‘we live together and have kids, were basically married’ it didn’t make sense, and Brey is determined to get the truth out of them.

Auston drops his lips to Tia’s ear and whispers, “should we just tell them?”

Tia cranes her head and squeezes his hand under the table. “No.”

He gently kisses her. “You sure? Make this a lot easier?”

“Make what easier?” Brey cocks her head and narrows her gaze.

Tia and Auston smile at each other as she mindlessly spins the black metal ring on his index finger. The ring she put there over two years ago when they did get married less than 24 hours after getting engaged, because neither one of them wanted to wait. But because all their friends and family couldn’t be there, they kept it a secret. That’s why Tia doesn’t wear her wedding band outside the house (except when she forgets to take it off) and why Auston wears his wedding band is on the index finger and not the ring finger.

Auston turns to Brey with heat flaring behind his cheeks and playfully smirks. “Nothing.”

**

The kids went to his parents and Auston and Tia ubered home. One glass of wine lead to two, which lead to three, and that was where Tia stopped. Her tolerance had dropped since having Maddie and anymore would have made her a mess and Tia didn’t want to be a mess tonight (unless the mess was made from Auston’s cum).

It didn’t take long for them to get to bed, and it was even less time until his head was buried between her legs, greedily bringing orgasm after orgasm to her. When she finally made him stop because her legs were trembling and vision was turning white, Tia found herself on her knees, attempting to return the favour, but Auston didn’t let her finish. At the last second, he roughly grabbed her hair and brought her in for an incredibly sloppy kiss.

“Lie down.” Auston instructs her, nipping at her lower lip.

“No.” Tia breathes out before roughly pressing her lips to his.

“T -”

“I said no.” Tia repeats, then yelps when Auston spanks her.

“I signed the contract; I should get to decide how we celebrate.” His voice is thick and gravelly, as he tries to maintain control. 

“I gave birth to your children so if I say I’m not getting on my back…”Tia pushes away from him and sits on her heels. “I’m not getting on my back.” 

Auston shifts on the mattress, his shoulders cracking in the process. This dominant behaviour from his wife is new and relatively uncommon, but fuck does it ever turn him on.

In one quick motion Tia spins and puts her back to him with her knees on either side of his hips. Using her hand, she strokes his throbbing cock over her entrance, coating it in her slick. He grabs at her ass cheeks, the only thing he can, and they both moan when she fills herself with his length.

“Shit baby.” Auston chuckles. Tia starts to move, up and down on his cock, getting faster and faster while her ass bounces along with her.  “You feel so good.”

“You always fuck me so good.” Tia cries when Auston moves his hips.

“Isn’t that what a good husband should do?” He spanks her again then grunts as her pussy tightens around his cock. “Properly fuck their wife?” He thrusts upward, wincing as she claws at his thighs for support.

“Yes.” Tia whines. Auston slaps her ass one more time for good measure then grabs at her hips. He has no intentions of trying to control the pace, she is doing that just fine on her own, he just wants to touch her. He always wants to touch her.

“So, I’m just doing my job Mrs. Matthews.”

Tia’s walls pulsate around him. She loves when he calls her that almost as much as he loves saying it. She wishes they could announce it to the world, then she could legally change her name to match him and their children, even Felix has his last name. Most of the people in their lives would be so happy they wouldn’t even care about missing one of the biggest moments of their lives. Not Ema. She of course would be happy, but she would be disappointed to have been excluded and Tia she can’t live knowing she disappointed the only mother she’s ever had.

“Making sure my wife is taken care of.”

Tia flips her hair to look back at him over her shoulder and whispers in the most innocent of voices, “keep it up and I’m gonna ask you to put another baby in me.”

Auston lets out a shaky exhale, he loved watching Tia be pregnant.

He lifts his hips up, making her fall forward until she is gripping his knees for stability. “I’ll do it.” Auston smacks her ass once again, earning himself a loud, excited yelp. “You just tell me when.”

At this point, Tia didn’t know how Auston was keeping it together, she didn’t know how she was keeping it together. Every single thrust was perfectly placed, brushing up against her g-spot, nudging her closer and closer to her release. Her nails were carved into his thighs, sweat was rolling down her back, down his chest, the sounds coming from their lips were feral, animalistic, but they kept fucking.

He watches himself disappear inside her walls a few more times then grips her hips and holds her on his member, pouring his hot, sticky seed inside – just the way she likes. Her walls grasp and hug his cock, and she can’t help when her eyes see static.

It takes a few minutes for either one to move. There is a lot of panting and muttering of curse words, hands gingerly trailing over the others sticky skin. But when Tia finally finds the strength to lift herself off his now softened cock, Auston wraps his arms around her body and pins her tight to his chest.

“I love you T.” His voice is hoarse.

“I love you too, Aus.” 

Taglist: If you are in this list you have expressed interest in the series (either through likes/reblogs or by asking). If it’s crossed out your tag didn’t work. If you would like to be removed or added to the list send me an ask:

@youtxbemusic@nicoleloveshockey@emsully2002 @hockeypuckspottspot @ashleymarine@albal321@b34ut1fulb4st4rds@biznastysloneshift12@burkylover@c-tangerine@canadian-girl87@crazzyfann @dana-hqy @delighttfulll@evawest5@every-beautifulthing-thereis@greendragonzz@heatherawoowoo@hockeybabe87@hockeyinaussie@hockeyisit@hockeypuckedmeup@je-ne-regrette-rien@jakekisska@partypoison00 @princesscameston @puccbunni @queenmarvel21 @sixmapleleafs@starswin@trashforbarzal@0kikina0@1-fuzzy-squirrels@janeydeaux@stuff4me2do@callsign-denmark @monnbc @simpgirl-lat@huneyjojo221 @idfan21 @elly-dx@samanthasgone@holyalfalfasprout@lwstuff @mattyzmarner @ashloveshockey

[male-yn-simping]

Full Homo

Steve Harrington x Male! Henderson! reader

Prompted by this

A/N: Feel free to leave requests

You're chilling in your room, reading a book, when Dustin, you're little brother, bursts in through the door.

"Y/N!" he yells excitedly

"Dustin!" You yell back, putting a mark in you book, shutting it, and setting it down. you sit up and look at him. He has an excited grin on his face as he practically bounces on his feet.

"Can you take me to the mall?" He asks, preparing himself to beg if he has to.

"Yeah, sure" You shrug and get up, grabbing your keys and wallet before slipping on some shoes. "I need to get out for a bit anyways"

Dustin thanks you as he runs to grab his stuff. By the time your shoes are on, he's already in the passenger seat of your car, buckled up with his leg bouncing impatiently. You laugh at your brothers antics as you buckle yourself in before driving to the mall, windows rolled down and Queen blasting through the stereo.

You arrive at the mall and decide to follow Dustin, having no specific plans to go anywhere or do anything.

To your surprise, Dustin makes his way to Scoops Ahoy and is greeted by King Steve Harrington.

You never had a bad experience with Steve, but you never had a good one either, and you heard the stories. Jonathan Byers being your best friend definitely didn't improve your opinion of him.

You don't say anything about it though, as Dustin seems extremely excited to see him, and you can't help but smile at the way the two boys goof around. The huge grin on your little brothers face warms your heart.

After a moment, the two calm down and Steve notices you. He's shocked at first, but he smiles softly at you.

"Hey!" He says, seemingly a bit nervous.

"Uh, hi." You reply, still a but confused and unsure about the situation.

"Oh! Alex, this is Steve! Steve, this is my brother, Alex!" Dustin says, his grin never faltering. You can't help but laugh a little.

"yeah, I know who he is" you say. Steve chuckles nervously and rubs the back of his neck.

"Yeah. I'm... I'm sorry about everything, by the way" He says, his gaze fixed on the ground.

You sigh softly and shake your head "It's all good. It's in the past."

Steve looks up quickly with a big smile on his face. "Really?!" You laugh and nod, returning his smile.

"yeah, just don't let it happen again" you tease.

Steve nods happily. His eyes meet Dustin's before returning back to you. You notice this and smile warmly.

"I'll let you two do... whatever the hell it is your up to. Good seeing you again!" You say before turning and walking out of Scoops Ahoy. Steve pauses for a moment, debating, but decides to run after you, stopping you right outside the store.

"Hey, Alex, um..." He stumbles over his words, his eyes glued to the floor as his cheeks grow red. You look at him confused as he talks.

"Do you wanna get some coffee sometime, maybe?" He asks. You're taken aback and take a moment to process what he said before eventually coming to your senses and nodding.

"Uh..ye...yeah!" You stutter out, your own cheeks now painted red.

"Great! Um, this weekend?" He finally looks up at you, his eyes are bright as he smiles wide.

"Yeah! This weekend is... Wait. You do mean that in a gay way, right?" You ask hesitantly, afraid you misread the situation. Steve bursts into laughter at this.

"Yes, in a gay way." Steve continues laughing, which cause you to start laughing as well.

"Full homo?" You say between giggles.

"A full homosexual coffee date." Steve manages to laugh out.

With a final fit of soft giggles, you kiss Steve on the cheek and walk away.

"See you this weekend, Harrington!"

[noxiwrites]

more smutty karl content during mrbeast challenges pls i beg 🧎‍♀️

Loving these ideas 😫😫 I wrote this in one sitting so forgive me if it’s not my best but let’s go anon !!!

Hide and seek

Summary; in which you participate in the 100 person hide and seek challenge and Karl finds you.

Warnings; dom Karl, semi public sex, fingering, teasing, caught sex.

You're gripping your breifcase for dear life as you're running throughout the mall- trying not to follow the other 99 people who are also spreading it like they're going to die. There's a few people in front of you but they eventually filter off until you're on your own, heading towards some stores at the back of the mall.

There's a vacant lot in the corner of the area, with the shutter rolled up just enough for you to fit under. You decide to hide in there, clambering to the floor and throwing your briefcase underneath before following right after it. The store is completely empty, aside from the counter right at the back and a door behind it.

There's only two possible hiding spots, whatever is behind the door or behind the counter. You dash toward them as your radio crackles in your earpiece letting you know that Jimmy, Chris, Chan and Karl are now on the loose to try and find you and the ten grand in your briefcase.

“They’ll never find me here,” you tell the camera, confident in your hiding spot.

You try the door handle, disappointed to find its locked, before spinning on the spot and observing the counter. It's like a hollow box, the top counter boxing in an area for you to sit under without being seen unless someone is stood in the spot you're in right now.

You clamber under, taking a seat on the old floor and placing your briefcase at the bottom of your feet. You know you're gonna be there for a few hours, in the back of the mall, in a vacant lot.

“No offence but the seekers aren't really that smart,” you say to your camera, giggling.

-

It's a few hours into the challenge before you hear any movement outside. You lock your phone instantly, stopping tiktok from playing as you hear the sound of a voice approaching. You can't quite make out who it is but they're getting closer, talking something about possibly finding someone in one of these stores.

You hope, for your sake, that they don't think there's anyone in here because there isn't anywhere else to hide so you're done for if they come in here.

Sadly, the voice draws closer and you hear the squeak of shoes as they slide under the shutter.

"I'd be really surprised if there isn't anyone in here, this is a good spot." You recognise the voice- It's Karl, one of your friends and the guy you've liked for forever. You'd like to think that he likes you back- but he's never made any moves and you're too scared to make any yourself so you're sort of stuck in a stalemate. With yourself.

His footsteps approach and you know you're dead meat as he walks around the counter- and tries the door.

And doesn't see you. He walks back around the counter, mumbling something to his camera about a wasted spot- and you have a small victory.

Until he stops.

"I never checked the counter space." you hear his footsteps approach again and he swings around the corner of the counter, pointing his camera at you in the space.

"I caught someone!" He laughs and you Huff, pulling yourself out from underneath the counter. Goodbye ten grand. Karl grins at you as you drop your briefcase on the counter and lean against it- and Karl is quick to turn off his camera and drop it on top of the brief case.

"You lost," He chuckles, joining you in learning against the counter.

"I know, this sucks. Why couldn't you just pretend I wasn't there?" You dramatically sigh, punching his arm.

“That’s not how the challenge works sweetheart.” He turns to you with a smile on his face, and you have to hide your shock.

There’s something behind his eyes- you can’t read it- but you think the mood has changed. You think.

You shuffle on your feet, deciding to take a seat on the counter and lifting yourself up.

“So is now like the time you take my briefcase and I’m out?” You ask, checking your phone for the time. It’s around 2am, and the incentive makes you yawn as you realise you’re quite tired.

He chuckles- you notice he does that a lot- and places his hand on your thigh.

Oh.

“Not quite. I wanna claim my prize first.” You think, at first, that he’s referring to the money you just lost, when his hand starts travelling up your thigh and rests on the waist band of your joggers.

“What’re you doing?” You ask, nervous.

His eyes meet yours. “Doing something I’ve wanted to do for a while.”

He leans forward, closing the gap between you and him and kissing you like he’s wanted you for years. He’s quick yet soft, other hand reaching for the other side of your joggers and slipping his fingers in the waistband.

You pull away, his lips plum and upturned in a smirk. “Is this really happening right now?” You’re not sure if you meant to say that out loud- but it’s there now, and he laughs at you.

“If you want it to.” You nod. Faster than you’ve ever done before you think- and he immediately leans back in to kiss you as he tugs at your joggers. You slightly lift your hips, allowing him to pull them down and off your legs. They’re thrown somewhere on the floor and he wastes no time using one of his hands to feel you through your panties.

“You’re so wet already,” he groans, fingers prodding at the wet spot above your entrance. He pulls away from the kiss to watch as he pulls your panties to the side, running his fingers up and down your slick. Your own hands grip the counter, biting your lip to keep in your gasp.

This is really happening right now.

His free hand grips your chin and forces you to look down, watching as he slips two fingers inside your hole. Immediately, as if in instinct, you clench around him and he groans again.

“So fuckin tight, all for me yeah?” It takes you a second to gather that he’s asking a question, and you nod your head, not trusting your voice.

The grip he has on your chin becomes tighter. “Speak to me, tell me how good this feels.”

You know he’s demanding- and he adds another finger to the two to make you feel more. He knows exactly what he’s doing too, bending them in the come here motion to make you reach your peak.

“Tell me.” He curls his fingers with each word, hand pushing up your head to make you look him in the eyes. They’re completely blown out and you imagine your own are too.

“So good, oh god,” you whine- hand moving to grip his arm as he pushes his fingers in harder and faster.

“Come for me, give it to me.” He pulls you in for another kiss, freeing your chin to reach underneath your top and gripping your boob.

“Every time you wear something where I can see these, drives me crazy.” He murmurs on your lips, squeezing your boob. You think back to the few times you’d noticed him staring when you had your boobs on display- the exact effect you had wanted from him- and it makes you giggle.

“What’s so funny huh?” He removes his fingers from you, again gripping your chin.

“Tell me, or I won’t let you cum.”

You swallow, moaning as he touches your clit and moves his fingers around it slowly.

He’s keeping you right on the edge and you whine, grasping his hand to try get his fingers back inside you to finish you off.

“Tell me.”

“Fuck- I just think it’s funny that you go crazy for my tits- oh god.” He chuckles and slips his fingers back inside you, faster than before.

“Good girl, so obedient aren’t you. Finish for me.” You do as told, finally falling over the edge of your orgasm and cumming around his fingers.

“Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” He muses, slowly finger fucking you through your orgasm. You let out a final moan as he withdraws his fingers, wasting no time unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them down his legs, along with his boxers.

He’s very hard, too slightly pink and wet with what you assume is precum.

He jerks himself off a few times as you shuffle towards the edge of the counter for easier access, and the both of you gasp as he finally pushes in. He leans his head against your own and the both of you share a breath.

“I’m not joking when I say I’ve dreamt about this- literally nothing compares.” He tells you, testing the waters as he pulls out and pushes back in slowly.

“You feel so good.” You whine, hands grasping at his back.

“I’m not going to last like this, I need to fuck you.” He tells you, hips setting a faster pace before you even have time to agree- not that you were going to disagree to begin with.

There’s nothing making noise around you and all that’s invading your ears is the sound of his cock going in and out of you- getting impossibly faster as his groans become higher and higher. If anyone is hidden nearby they’d definitely be able to hear- but you’re too busy approaching your second high to care.

“Let me know when you’re gonna come.” He pants, pace becoming erratic. You can tell he’s definitely close himself.

It only takes a few more thrusts before you’re wailing out that you’re cumming- Karl filling in quick succession- the both of you fucked and breathing heavily.

Eventually, he pulls out, pushing your panties back to the side to keep yours and his cum in there. He tucks himself back into his pants and then pulls you from the counter, helping you back into your joggers.

“I found someone !” He exclaims into his radio, waiting for a response as the both of you head towards the shutter.

“We know Karl, we heard you both,” you hear Chandler cackle through the radio, and your cheeks burn as you walk back, hand in hand with Karl.

[groovebunker]

💥Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're most excited to write? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

Hope you're starting to feel better 😊

I think (atm) it's either the bonus chapter of wwyd where cc takes fran shopping OR the holiday party chapter of the agony aunt au where cc brings a date who looks a little familiar, niles loses his mind and fran loses her temper (in a hot way). i'm also planning to write the birthday party referenced in the chanukah fic bc i can't stop thinking about it 😭

an (unedited) snippet from the bonus chapter under the read more!

Fran knew CC was wealthy. It’s not even just about her things, the expensive clothes and the frankly ridiculous Upper West Side apartment, it’s in the way she holds herself and talks, the way she commands a room the second she walks in. CC is rich beyond her wildest dreams. Which is why she shouldn't be surprised when CC guides her to the personal shopping counter at Bergdorf’s and addresses the woman there by her first name.

“Anna, I called earlier to book an appointment for Fran Fine.”

“Yes Miss Babcock, I have your dress here and I’ve already pulled some gowns in the colours you suggested. I’ll take you through.”

She leads them through to the largest dressing room Fran’s ever seen, a rail of dresses in shades of pink and red standing in one corner. She feels like she can barely afford to stand there, let alone buy anything. CC comes to stand next to her, her hand resting on Fran’s lower back.

“Is this ok, darling?”

She realises she's not really sure. It’s just the opposite of what she'd been expecting when CC had suggested taking her shopping. She’s used to a shopping trip meaning several hours browsing Loehmann’s with Val or her mother, debating how much she can afford to put on her credit card this month. She loves it, loves finding the perfect thing tucked away at the back of the store and giggling with Val as they show Sylvia a succession of hideous outfits. Once a year, around the holidays, she comes down to 5th Avenue and lets herself dream about affording this kind of thing one day. When she's not a nanny on six bucks an hour. And it's not like she was expecting CC to shop off label. But she’s treating this like it's any other Monday, as if there's not a rack of dresses in the corner which each cost more than Fran makes in a year, as if half the staff hadn't looked down their noses at Fran the second they pushed through the doors, as if Fran could ever fit in in a place like this. This is CC’s normal and Fran’s so far out of her depth that she feels a little lightheaded.

“Honey, is this really necessary? I was just gonna go to Loehmann's.”

CC leans in a little closer, gesturing for Anna to leave them alone.

“It’s not really necessary, no. But I like seeing you dressed up in beautiful things. So…indulge me?” It’s not fair, Fran thinks, the way her voice drops or the way her mouth forms the word ‘indulge’. How is she supposed to say no to that? “If there's nothing you like, we’ll go anywhere you want.”

“It’s just…so expensive.”

“Maxwell was kind enough to give me his credit card. He was just so grateful that I was taking you shopping,” she grins, “He thinks I'm going to have a terrible time.”

Fran smirks. Mr Sheffield's paid for enough of her fancy outfits. What's one more?

“Oh, does he now?”

CC unbuttons Fran’s shirt and pushes it off her shoulders, letting it fall crumpled to the floor.

“Mmm, he was so apologetic,” she undoes Fran's jeans and pushes them down over her hips, helping her step out of them and her shoes, “So sorry that I had to take time out of my day to do this. Kept saying I was doing him a huge favour.”

He clearly has no idea. Or he's a much better actor than they’ve given him credit for. Fran’s not bothered either way, because CC’s pulling her over to the rail of dresses and looking at her as if she’s sizing her up. She pulls a maroon gown down and holds it up, scrutinizing it against Fran’s skin.

“This one first, I think.”

Fran thought she loved shopping because of the search, because of the choice and the possibilities. When they got here, she couldn't understand why CC would want someone else to pick out what she should try on, what she should wear. Not that it’s not working for her, clearly, but she thinks it must suck all the fun out of getting dressed in the morning. Fran’s clothes are so much a part of who she is, she can’t fathom having anyone else choose them for her. But now CC’s helping her into another dress, this one a deep cherry red with the neckline cut across her shoulders, and it fits like a glove and CC can't stop looking at her. This is probably the 7th dress she’s put on, and she’s been watching CC get more and more flushed, less and less able to string a sentence together as she helps Fran change and then bosses her around a bit, tells her how to stand and to turn slowly so she can see her from every angle. And Fran’s starting to get it. She doesn't want a stranger picking out her clothes, although Anna has done a very good job, but CC choosing them? CC looking at her in her underwear with that slightly hard gaze, flicking through clothes and deciding what she wants to see Fran in? And then lounging back against the mirror as Fran models them for her? It’s liable to ruin both her and the ridiculously expensive dresses.

“What do you think, darling?”

[izzy-b-hands]

I was thinking abt the occasionally fun but mostly frustrating tradition(in the states at least idk for sure if anywhere else does this?)of valentine's day boxes made for school.

That led me here. steddyhands and the dilemma of the valentines day box assignment for louis and alma, special feature on izzy and his rising blood pressure (sorry izzy bby akdnfjgn), which I'll be real i talk more abt in my tags on this since this probably isn't gonna be written out any further, so yeah. More plot talky izzy stuff in my tags.

Noting this in my tags too, but a moment to specify that ed and stede aren't trying to have like. a shitty parenting moment in this, they're just human and excited abt the situation and sorta fuck up a bit.

---

"The point is that they make the box themselves," Izzy says, for what feels like the hundredth time. "The only grade they get is 'did they do it or not'. Their teachers bolded that part of the email, remember? Said to mind getting too competitive about it?"

"Now I think Frenchie would happily take on the commission," Stede continues, thumbs tapping at his phone keyboard. "He'll reply quickly; he always does for me."

"It's a cardboard box," Izzy says. "To hold paper and cardboard valentines and cheap candy. That's it!"

"Money will help, but the overall design needs to be good," Ed says to Stede, as if Izzy and the kids aren't still standing there. "Money can buy resources, but it can't buy pretty, no matter how nice those resources might be."

"Oh that's good! Applies to other things too, I like it!"

"We bought them new shoes last week," Izzy sighs. Why does he keep trying? He couldn't say. "They each have a box already. We just need to help them decorate the boxes. That's it. That is all the teacher means with this project. I even asked Mary and Doug how they read it, and they agreed with me!"

"Ooh Frenchie has mock ups!" Stede cheers softly. "I knew he'd come through."

"It's okay," Alma pats Izzy's hand. "You tried really hard to make them understand. They're just excited."

"Can we go to the art stuff store now?" Louis whines, tugging at Izzy's other hand. "They won't even notice if we leave!"

"We should leave a note at least," Izzy says.

"Dad does love well written notes and random acts of abandonment," Alma sighs. "You dictate and I'll write. I want to practice my cursive."

"Really?"

"Dad can't read my cursive well yet."

"That makes more sense," Izzy says. "Louis, what are you-"

He watches as Louis tugs Stede's wallet from the countertop, and bolts outside, prize held up over his head with both hands.

"He won't notice," Alma reassures him. "You shouldn't have to pay for our stuff for this anyway."

"You've done this before."

"We'd be stupid if we hadn't," Alma tears a page from her notebook. "Here, I wrote it myself. I'm gonna get Louis in the car."

She's out the door after Louis, hands clapping to get his attention just like Mary did with them both.

"Either of you want to help me address that?" Izzy asks Ed and Stede, who he realises have indeed not stopped talking to each other the entire time. "She's a bit young to be acting like that, yeah?"

They're in their own world. Normally, he wouldn't care, but he's Guardian Five out of many and it feels like Parent/Guardians 1-4 could and should have already noticed it ahead of him.

"Fine," Izzy drops Alma's note by Stede's hand, deciding not to read it. That she actually went through with writing it is kindness enough. "I'm going to let her rack up a ridiculous bill on one of your seven credit cards, and they'll make those stupid fucking valentine boxes so fucking ornate..."

His anger fizzes out mid-sentence. Stede isn't listening. Ed isn't listening. Alma keeps honking the horn in the car and how did she get the fucking keys?!

"You know what? Fast food and ice cream for dinner too," Izzy adds. "On your dime. We'll bring you something back."

He turns his attention to Alma and the frank abuse of the car's horn. "Alma! The neighbours already don't like us, let's not make it worse! Not unless you've got something worse than this planned for later-"

--

The door thunks shut.

"Oh," Stede looks over to it. "Didn't Izzy just say something?"

"No idea," Ed replies, looking through design ideas on his phone. "Why?"

"They were just here," Stede continues. "Him and the kids. Right?"

"Maybe they went out for an after school snack," Ed shrugs. "To get inspired for this big art box project thing."

"Is that what this is? What was this for again?"

"Dunno for sure, but look at this," Ed turns the phone to show Stede the screen. "For Louis?"

Stede lets his concerns drop again. Izzy will mention if they're missing any key details about the kids' projects and what needs to be done. "I think he'd love it! Save that."

The house is getting dark around them, and he wonders if Izzy and the kids will be home for dinner.

[david-watts]

oh and yes. there are mice about. hopefully not within the actual house but just under it and coming inside occasionally

[untilwedont]

Naughty Boy

Pairings: Jason Carver x male!reader

Warnings: Dom!Jason, Sub!reader, possessive!jason, , public sex, unprotected sex, no prep

Summary: It's christmas time in hawkins and m/n can't seem to keep himself of the naughty list.

A/N: I'm sorry but Jason is so fucking hot omg 🤭 ANYWAYS Just pretend that he wasn't the reason that Max is in a coma and that he stayed out of the whole thing.

It was christmas time in hawkins, which meant it was time to buy people gifts. You and Jason were both at the starcourt mall, searching for gifts for his family. Jason looked at the list of things that was written on the little paper he had. "Okay, we need clothes, shoes, home essentials, and....I think that's it." You slightly smiled at jason and put your hand on his shoulder, "You know babe, I don't think you needed a list for just those three things."

"Never know babe, just incase." He slipped the paper back into his pocket and held your hand. You both walked towards the first clothing store you saw. Everything was going fine until you noticed the person working at the checkout. "Holy shit.." you mumbled as you noticed working at the checkout was no other than your childhood friend.

You were completely shocked at the sight in front of you. You hadn't seen him in since 5th grade after he left to another school. "Hey.. Jay.. I'll be right back, okay? Just stay here and keep looking for clothes.." You gave him no time to respond, walking straight up to the checkout. "Y/F/N, is that you?" You gave him an excited expression. He gave you a confused look, eyeing you up and down. It took him a minute to realize who you were, "It's me, M/N!"

It took him a moment until his eyes widened, "Holy shit, M/N? M/N Y/L/N?!" He smiled at you and examined you once more. "Yeah, it's me! You look so different!" And it was true. His hair was different, he had a different hair color, wore different clothes, but the nametag on him brought back so many memories. It was honestly just a lucky guess since you weren't exactly sure if it was him or not.

"You look different.. but not in a bad way!" He reassured you, "In a good way. Like a really good way. God really has his favorites." You smiled at the compliment he just gave you, "I could say the same for you. How has your life been?" You hadn't noticed that Jason had been a few inches away from you, snooping in on your conversation, and it seemed like your friend hadn't noticed either since his eyes were completely glued to yours.

"My life's been good, but it's better now that i'm talking to you." He gave you a grin. You smiled at what he said but that sentenced must have set off Jason because he came up behind you, slithering his arms around you waist. "Hey baby, whos this?" Your friends expression changed immediately after he called you that word. "Oh, this is just a childhood friend of mine. Y/F/N, this is my boyfriend, Jason." Jason placed small kisses on your neck, not caring that there was someone literally watching him. He was all about PDA and could give zero fucks if there was 1 person watching or 10. If anyone made any mean comments about your guys' relationship, he wouldn't hesitate to beat them up or threaten them.

"Oh.. your boyfriend..?" His tone and mood had a sudden change. It was as if he was heartbroken to hear you had a boyfriend. "Hey, is there anywhere we could try these clothes on." Jason asked, holding up the clothes that he had in his hands. "Yeah.. right over there." He pointed towards the dressing rooms. Jason's hands left your waist and you both walked towards the dressing rooms. "Wait, hold on. Why do we need to go to the dressing room. Aren't these clothes for your family."

"Oh, baby. We aren't going in to try on clothes." He opened one of the dressing room doors and dragged you in. He threw the clothes on the chair in the dressing room and smashed his lips onto yours. "Mph.. Jay.. what the fu-." He smacked your ass, cutting you off. "What the fuck do you think you were doing?" He growled. "Huh? What do you mean?" You looked directly into his eyes, his blue eyes filled with lust. "Don't act stupid. He clearly wanted you. He probably wanted to fuck you." He whispered into your ear as he said that last sentence, unzipping your pants. "What're you talking about? He's just a childhood friend, I doubt he wanted me."

"That's what you think. Now turn around." Though you thought Jason was being crazy, you weren't complaining. You were all in for jealous sex. Your underwear fell to the ground and now all you had on was your shirt. Jason unzipped his pants and pulled them, along with his underwear, down. He rubbed his dick against your ass, teasing you a little. "W-what're you doing Jay. Aren't you gonna prep..?" He slightly chuckled at your question and leaned in closer to you, "Naughty boys like you don't deserve to be prepped."

He covered your mouth with his hand and slammed into you without a warning. Your moan was muffled by his hand, your eyes began to start watering. You brought your hand to your dick to start jerking yourself off, but you were quickly stopped by Jason hitting your hand. "Na-uh baby. You don't get to touch yourself." He began to slam into you even harder. So hard that you were sure your friend could hear the sound of his balls slapping against your ass.

He began to smack your ass, leaving red marks. Tears were rolling down your cheek, your moans still muffled by his hand. "Fuck baby, im so close. I'm gonna fill you up with my cum." Sweat was dripping from both of your foreheads. He continued to slam himself into your abused prostate, his climax building up faster and faster. "Fuck im cumming!" He continued to slam himself into you through his climax, painting your walls. He took his dick out of you and removed his hand from your mouth.

"Hey are you guys done in there? You've been in there for 40 minutes."

[forbidding-souda]

i love love love your blog

i enjoyed the boob piercing hc and wondered if i can request that but with Mondo, Taka, and Kaito!

Mondo Oowada, Ishimaru Kiyotaka, and Kaito Momota seeing their S/O's nipple piercings for the first time headcanons

just got back from a wedding and that shit was so fun + I ate like 6 pieces of bread it was a W I want more of that fucking bread and to go shopping bleh hold on let me see if I can go shopping now that I have my mind on it lmfao i need frozen strawberries and bananas for my smoothie bc I ate all the bananas and last time I went shopping I forgot to get frozen strawberries as if that wasn't the reason I went anyway.

update: went to the store and got my frozen strawberries and also this mf fruity pebble ice cream whatttt.

-Mod Souda

✯✯✯✯✯

✯✯✯✯✯

Mondo Oowada

❤ pointer: I'm going to be so fucking honest I literally am like 100% certain I've written this before but I can't find it anywhere so I'm rewriting it but ????.

❤ There's the cold wind that hits your arms where they hit the air as you clench yourself against his back, the motorcycle vibrating from under you. Rain pitter patters against the metal as well as on you two.

❤ He's racing home, trying to get somewhere dry, trying to figure out how to get home without getting too wet.

❤ With his preciseness and also the way in which he memorized the neighborhoods, it doesn't take more than ten minutes to get home (which, the entire time, you were freaking tf out because of how fast he was going in the dark and in the rain).

❤ You were the first one to the door, opening it before he could even step on the doorstep (thank goodness he started giving you the keys). Your whole body is freezing and your clothes are thick and weighted.

❤ Amidst the ceiling light that hangs above the tiles before the home starts, you use your toes to pull off your shoes from the opposite foot's ankles while your hands peel off your shirt.

❤ Mondo closes the front door, shaking the water from his fallen hair, kicking off his shoes too when he looks up and sees two pieces of metal catching the fluorescent light.

❤ "Where the hell did those come from?" He points at your nipple piercings.

❤ "These?" You look down as if you forgot they existed. "I thought you noticed them already."

❤ His mind completely runs over the times he would have seen them, times where he got so nervous around you that he adverted his eyes.

❤ He grumbles and mumbles, rubbing his forehead (mostly to get the water out of his face, but you saw it as a sign of annoyance).

❤ You eye him, wondering what his next move is, just he gives laughs at himself, the thought of being so flustered around you that he never caught sight of nipple piercings being too amusing.

.

Ishimaru Kiyotaka

❤ He is also a boyfriend who will advert his eyes and try not to look at your chest nor even your upper thighs.

❤ Even if you wanted to show him there is no way he would want to take a look.

❤ He finds out on his own terms, involuntary terms at that.

❤ It happened when the two of you were laying together, the both of you calm in attitude.

❤ His face was buried into the crook of your neck, his arms draped around you until he moved positions to lay on your chest.

❤ “Ooh, watch out!”

❤ His head perks up immediately.

❤ He didn’t feel them, not at first, but when you started delicately tapping on the skin of your nipples through your shirt, he remembered when you were talking about getting pierced (where is it, he always wondered. It lingers in his mind).

❤ “This… is… certainly unpredicted.” He keeps his head hovered over you, now unsure as to where to put it.

❤ “Oh, shut up.” You wrap your hands around his neck and pull him close to you.

.

Kaito Momota

❤ You wear a big shirt. It’s very loose on you, and you wear it to get comfortable.

❤ Kaito loves it when you do. He likes putting his hands up the sleeves and gripping your shoulders. When you walk away from him, he grabs onto the back and halts you.

❤ So when you comes up in front of you and grips the bottom you don’t think anything of it.

❤ He quickly lifts it up and ducks his head underneath.

❤ Your hands immediately cup your boobs, but by that point he already caught sight of them.

❤ “Wh-What the hell?!” He exclaims, head still in your shirt, and him having no sign of removing himself just made the situation funnier.

❤ You laugh, feeling his head moving back and forth before he started blowing raspberries against your sternum.

[adelior]

Name: Unconditionally

Author: R. Adelio

Genre: Romance, Minecraft, Comedy, Fluff

Main Lead: Technoblade, Dreamwastaken

Female Lead: Reader

Chapter: 1

Special Addition: Tchnomaid

Letters: 10,718

<- ->

"I'm bored" You mumbled into your palm as you kept your gaze on the papers that were set up in front of you. "It's your fault for trespassing their area, [Name]. You should know by now how strict Dream is with the boundaries of the countries." Wilbur interpreted, his brows furrowing by the second. "They could have killed you."

"I'm sorry, I was just curious" Hearing you apologize, he softened up and groaned. Wil patted your shoulder with a somewhat forced smile before leaving the room. "Make sure to finish brewing the potions by the end of the day. For now," He looked back, nodding his head. "I'll see you around, [Name]."

"You too, Wil" Sighing, you turned to look at the blonde-haired boy who stood awkwardly in the corner. "Well uh, that went well at least!" Slamming your first, you startled Tommy as he shrieked. "I got in trouble in YOUR PLACE-"

"Yeahhhh, about that, I'm sorry!" Tommy shook you by the shoulders, a grin spreading across his face. "I'll make it up to you okay? I'll set you up on a date with Wilbur if it makes you feel any better" Your cheeks darkened, giving the kid a pathetic slap as you covered the bottom half of your face.

"It's really nothing like that. I don't.. like him.." The last part of your sentence was muttered, and as usual, the boy who knew of your feelings let out a hollering laugh. "I knew it! Who would have fucking thought that you'd fall for Wil! Out of all people!"

"LOOK-" You turned to face him, your face getting hotter and hotter the more you thought about it. "I have my reasons okay! He's a good guy, and on top of that, he's an amazing friend"

"An amazing friend you say? He's also one hell of a fucking leader that's for sure. But enough about your crush let's go out and play with Tubbo!" Dismissing him with a single wave, you gave your best sympathetic smile. "Sorry Tommy, but I have to finish brewing these potions by the end of the day. I can't afford to be disciplined by Wil again"

"Hm, whatever, fine" The boy shrugged, leaving you alone. "THIS ISN'T THE END WOMAN! You will join me and Tubbo on our conquest sooner or later!" You chuckled, smiling at his childish behavior. "Yeah, yeah, now go on and have fun"

You can hear him shout out loud, laughing as he tackled what you perceive to be Tubbo. "I never wanna leave" The sentence that slipped out of your mouth caught you off guard. Despite being an outsider to their nation, they treated you with respect and saw you as a member of their group.

Sitting back down, you continued to flip through the pages of the book. Studying the recipes and applying the specific ingredients to each bottle. "Oh shit, I ran out of spider eyes" Cursing, you stood up to walk towards the door, looking out into the hallway. "Niki!" You shouted from your office, capturing the woman's attention. "Yes, [Name]?"

"Do you know if we have any spider eyes left in the chest room? Or have we completely run out of it" She pondered for a second, answering once she finished checking her inventory. "I don't think we have any more spider eyes. I'm also not carrying any with me sadly"

"Oh, that's alright. I can just outside and kill some spiders myself" Pushing yourself forward to one of your chests, you opened it and took some resources. A bow, 10 arrows, and full iron armor apart from your golden shoes. "[Name], you don't need to go out and kill some on your own. It's dangerous at night"

"Exactly, which is why I plan to go to the Piglin market to trade some gold for a few stacks of spider eyes" Niki shook her head in denial, refusing to let you pass by. "That's even more dangerous! We're humans, we can't go inside there unless we have the King's permission. And usually, we'd have knightly escorts to go around with us"

"True, but I can slip in and slip out without being noticed" You shrugged on your hood, a robe that covered your full body apart from your face. "I can hide with this, besides if they aren't able to tell that I'm human they'll never be able to report it to the king"

"Al..right.." The short-haired girl had a troubled expression on her face, but nevertheless, let you pass. "Good luck! Please come home safely" You turned to give her a single nod, a reassuring smile that was enough to calm her down. "I promise, so don't worry about me okay?"

And so you left, walking to the basement of your home where the Nether Portal stood tall. You gulped at the mere sight of it, how mysterious yet alluring. The purple particles only making it look majestic. "beautiful.." You muttered as you slowly entered, the change of temperature really hit you hard. It was hot, humid compared to how it felt in the overworld. "Goddamn how do piglins live like this"

"Shocking, right?" A male voice erupted from the silence, causing you to stiffen. "I'm assuming you're not used to traveling to the Nether." You slowly turned around, only to be met with a man with dirty blonde hair. "Pardon?" You tilted your head, staring at his smiling mask. "Nothing, would you like me to escort you and keep you safe?"

"And what makes you think I'd trust a stranger" You questioned, earning a chuckle from the man. "You're not as dumb as you look. But don't worry you're not my type, I won't do anything."

"WH-" His hand went over your mouth in a flash, he moves fast for a person with netherite armor, and on top of that a black robe. "Keep your voice down, first rule when entering the Nether World is to never bring unnecessary attention to yourself."

"Got it" Your voice was muffled from his large hand, he stepped back before leading the way, making sure that you were tailing right behind him. "The second rule, make sure to always be with somebody. Never travel alone or you'll die in an instant without somebody keeping you safe."

"Safe? Is the Nether really dangerous for you to say that?" Observing his reaction, you realized how sharp his jawline was. You can't peak through the mask but his mouth was fully exposed. "Yes, I take it you've never looked into this dimension?"

"Well, to be fair I've only heard of the Nether. This is my first time actually setting foot into the portal" The man's mouth pulled back into a dumbfounded snarl, almost as if he was silently judging you for your actions. "Weird." Was all he said before nudging you forward. "We're here, keep your guard up. What are you here for exactly?"

"I'm here to trade gold for a few stacks of spider eyes" He sighed, pulling your hood closer to your face. "You do realize you could have killed a few spiders in the overworld without having to come here."

"Uh, not really the best in combat you see" You admitted, darting your attention to the passing piglings who stood at least 5 feet taller than the man leading the way. Their species were large and brute compared to humans, they were cool but dangerous to interact with. "What the hell were you thinking when you decided to come here without somebody to guide you."

"I honestly have no clue" You stared at the man with a blank face, earning a disappointed grunt from him. "Well, turn around Princess because we just arrived at the Mob looting store. Stay out here, I'll get the eyes for you."

"Wait a second- I feel bad you're the one who led me here and protected me-" The man that accompanied you patted your head with one of the most genuine smiles you've ever seen. Despite him being awfully mysterious, he has shown nothing but kindness all throughout your journey. "Don't worry about it. Just stay here and don't run off anywhere. It's even more dangerous inside because piglins tend to fight over items."

Fidgeting with your hands, you finally agreed. The blonde took that as an agreement and stepped into the store. You were left to stay outside, leaning against the wall that was nearest to the door. A few seconds passed, and yet you were still outside waiting. You were beginning to think that the man who you walked with abandoned you.

"Ex..c.." A piglin with long pink hair muttered, his hand reaching for you. "Excu.." You stepped aside, worried that the mob was here to harm you. The more you stared at him the more you realized he was one of them, but one that looked more human. "Is there something you need?" You questioned the man, earning a nod. "What is it?"

"Do you.. Do-" Before he was able to finish his sentence, your eyes widened in realization. You swung your right hand to open your inventory, taking out a gold bar to hand over to him. 'I heard piglins liked gold, maybe he'll leave me alone if I gave him one' Was what you thought as you urged the hybrid to take it.

He looked at you back and forth, debating whether or not he should accept it. "Take it, it's alright I have plenty of where that came from" The man in front of you hesitantly took the gold into his hands, his eyes widening when he realized how shiny and well kept the item was.

"You..-"

"Hey." The man who accompanied you shouted once he exited the shop, pulling out his netherite sword. "Back off."

"Hey wait! He didn't do anything wrong, leave him be" You pushed the blonde male back slightly, apologizing to the other person with a forced smile. "Let's just head back before we get caught!" Turning around, you tangled your fingers with his and ran away, waving the piglin goodbye.

"What are you doing." He asked, narrowing his eyes from under the mask. "You said to keep attention away from us so I am-"

"I wasn't even that loud." You turned to glare at him. "It got a lot of people's attention" The man laughed, swooping you into his arms, and began to speed up his pace. "You're a good listener." He complimented, a smile fighting to break through his irritated expression.

It took time for the two of you to finally reach the same Nether portal from before. The blonde slowly lowered you onto your feet, handing the bag of spider eyes into your chest. "Here, it's heavy so make sure to hold it with both hands."

"Thank you.." You muttered, gladly taking the bag with a smile. "Say, um.. I never caught your name?" Before the man was able to walk away, he turned to look at you one last time before telling you his name. "Clay, the name's clay."

"Clay?"

"I'll see you around." With that, he pushed you into the portal. You fell onto your back once you were transported over to the overworld, lying there with staggering breaths. "I never got to tell him my name though" But once you sat up, the Nether Portal's liquid-like wall disappeared. The particles were being sucked into the middle, and the doorway to hell was disappearing.

"What the..-"

"[NAME!]" You hear your name being called out by what sounds to be Wilbur. Turning to look over your shoulder, you see the whole group running towards you with a worrying expression. "You're back!"

<- ->

ec: @quacobs (instagram)

[thewidowsghost]

Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 1

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

(Y/n) stands in the kitchen of her mother and step-father's apartment, making the bean dip Smelly Gabe liked so much.

(Y/n) fixes her gaze on the counter but then she lets out a yelp as something hits her in between her shoulder blades.

"Hurry it up, girl!" Smelly Gabe snarls.

"Yes sir," (Y/n) murmurs.

A few minutes later, Gabe stalks into the kitchen, takes the dip without so much of a thank you.

(Y/n) fixes her gaze on the shoe on the ground before she moves to her room. She climbs into her bed, getting under her covers. (Y/n) turns, facing the wall.

She closes her eyes, falling to an uneasy sleep.

(Y/n) watches, disconnected from the others in the dream, as one of her brother's teachers turns into something that reminded her of a demon, or something similar that she'd read books about. The woman had bat wings, claws, and a mouth of yellow fangs.

Then (Y/n) looks around, her eyes widening in shock as she sees her brother holding a bronze sword.

Percy swings the sword, the demon exploding into yellow powder, vaporizing on the spot.

A hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder has (Y/n) jolting awake. "Honey? Are you okay?" Sally Jackson asks.

Catching the wide-eyed look of horror on (Y/n)'s face, Sally wraps her daughter in a hug.

(Y/n)'s breathing steadies, and she breathes in her mother's familiar scent - chocolate, licorice, and all the other things she sold at the candy shop in Grand Central Station.

"Did you get all your work done?" Sally asks softly, her thumb brushing over a slightly visible bruise that had appeared at the base of the back of her neck.

(Y/n) hums in reply.

. . .

The next day, (Y/n) is once again lying in her bed, not wanting to have to deal with Gabe throwing more shoes or glass bottles at / near her.

. . .

Percy walks into the apartment, dragging his suitcase behind him, hoping his mom would be home from work. Instead, Smelly Gabe is in the living room, playing poker with his buddies. The television blares ESPN; chips and beer cans are strewn all over the carpet.

Hardly looking up, he says around his cigar, "So, you're home."

"Where's my mom? (Y/n)?"

"Mom's working," Gabe says. "The girl's in her room. You got any cash?"

"That's it. No Welcome back. Good to see you. How has your life been the last six months?

Gabe had put on weight since the last time Percy had seen him. Gabe looked like a tuskless walrus in thrift-store clothes. He has about three hairs on his head, all combed over his bald scalp.

"I don't have any cash," Percy replies.

Gabe raises a greasy eyebrow. Gabe could sniff out money like a bloodhound, which is surprising, since his own smell should've covered up everything else.

"You took a taxi from the bus station," he says. "Probably paid with a twenty. Got six, seven bucks in change. Somebody expects to live under this roof, he ought to carry his own weight. Am I right, Eddie?"

Eddie, the super of the apartment building, looks at Percy with a twinge of sympathy. "Come on, Gabe," he says. The guy just got here."

"Am I right?" Gabe repeats.

Eddie scowls into his bowl of pretzels. The two other guys pass gas in harmony.

"Fine," Percy says. He digs a wad of dollars out of his pocket and throws the money on the table. "I hope you lose."

"Your report card came, brain boy!" He shouts back at Percy. "I wouldn't act so snooty!"

Percy slams the door to his room, which isn't really his room. During school months, it is Gabe's 'study.' He doesn't study anything in there except old car magazines, but he loves shoving his stuff in Percy's closet, leaving his muddy boots on the windowsill, and doing his best to make the place smell like his nasty cologne, cigars, and stale beer.

Percy drops his suitcase on the bed. Home sweet home he thinks.

Gabe's smell is almost worse than the nightmares about Mrs. Dodds, or the sound of that old fruit lady's shears snipping the yarn.

Percy sits, lost in his thoughts.

Then he hears his mom's voice, "Percy?" She opens the bedroom door, and his fears melt. "Oh, Percy," she hugs him tight. "I can't believe it. You've grown since Christmas."

Sally had brought Percy a bag of 'free samples' the way she always did whenever he'd come home.

The two sit together on the bed. While Percy attacks the blueberry sour strings, she runs her hands through his hair, demanding to know everything that he hadn't put in his letters. She doesn't mention his getting expelled. She doesn't seem to care about that.

Percy tells his mother that she is smothering him, but secretly, Percy is really, really glad to see her.

From the other room, Gabe yells, "Hey, Sally - how about some bean dip, huh?"

Percy grits his teeth. My mom is the nicest lady in the world. She should be married to a millionaire, not to some jerk like Gabe.

(Y/n) pads into Percy's room, and the dark haired boy brightens at the sight of his younger twin.

"I've got the dip, Mom," (Y/n) says softly. Sally gazes at her daughter for a moment, her gaze sad.

"Wait, (Y/n)," Sally says, and (Y/n) turns back to face her mother. "I've got a surprise for the two of you," she says. "We're going to the beach."

Percy's eyes widen. "Montauk?"

"Three nights - same cabin," Sally replies.

"When?" (Y/n) asks, looking excited.

She smiles, "As soon as I get changed."

(Y/n) can't believe it. Mom, Percy, and I hadn't been to Montauk in the last two summers because Gabe had said that there wasn't enough money.

Gabe appears in the doorway behind (Y/n) and growls, "Bean dip, Sally? Didn't you hear me?"

Percy wants to punch him, but he meets his mother's eyes, and understands that she is offering him a deal: Be nice to Gabe for a little while; just until she's ready to leave for Montauk.

"I've got it, Gabe," (Y/n) says.

"Sorry, honey," Sally says, looking at her husband. "We were just talking about the trip."

Gabe's eyes get small. "The trip? You mean you were serious about that?"

"I knew it," Percy mutters. "He won't let us go."

"Of course he will," Sally says evenly. "Your stepfather is just worried about money."

(Y/n) turns to face Gabe, smiling as kindly as she could. "What if I make a seven-layer dip that'll last the whole weekend?" she asks. "Guacamole. Sour cream. The works."

Gabe softens a bit, then turns back to face Sally. "So, this money for your trip . . . it comes out of your clothes budget, right?"

"Yes, honey," Sally replies.

"And you won't take my car anywhere but there and back."

"We'll be very careful."

Gabe scratches his double chin. "Maybe if the girl hurries up with the seven-layer dip . . . and if the boy apologizes for interrupting my poker game."

Maybe if I kick you in your soft spot, Percy thinks. And make you sing soprano for a week.

"I'm sorry," Percy mutters. "I'm really sorry I interrupted your incredibly important power game. Please go back to it right now."

Gabe's eyes narrow. His tiny brain is probably trying to detect the sarcasm in my statement, Percy thinks.

"Yeah, whatever," Gabe decides; he goes back to his game.

"Thank you, Percy," Sally says. "Once we get to Montauk, we'll talk more about...whatever you've forgotten to tell me, okay?"

For a moment, (Y/n) can see anxiety in her mother's eyes, but then her smile returns, and (Y/n) figures that she must've been mistaken.

. . .

An hour later, the three are ready to leave.

Gabe takes a break from his poker game long enough to watch (Y/n) and Percy lug the bags to his car. He keeps griping and groaning about losing her and (Y/n)'s cooking - and more important, his '78 Camaro - for the whole weekend.

"Not a scratch on this car, brain boy," Gabe warns Percy as he loads the last bag into the car. "Not one little scratch."

Like I'd be the one driving. I'm fourteen, Percy thinks.

Watching Gabe lumbers back towards the apartment building, Percy gets so mad that he does something he can't explain. As Gabe reaches the door, Percy makes the hand gesture he'd seen Grover made on the bus, a soft of warding-off-evil gesture, a clawed hand over his heart, then a shoving movement towards Gabe. The screen door slams so hard it whacks him the the butt and sends him flying up the staircase as if he'd been shot from a cannon.

. . .

(Y/n)'s POV

Our rental cabin is on the south shore, way out at the tip of Long Island. It is a little pastel box with faded curtains, half sunken into the dunes. There's always sand in the sheets, spiders in the cabinets, and most of the time the sea is too cold to swim in.

I loved the place.

Mom, Percy, and I had been going ever since Percy and I'd been a baby. Mom had been coming even longer. She'd never exactly said, but I know why the beach was special to her.

It's the place where she'd met my Dad.

As we get closer to Montauk, Mom seems to grow younger, years of worry and work disappearing from her face. Her eyes turn the color of the sea.

We get there around sunset, open all the cabin's windows, and go through the usual cleaning routine.

Mom, Percy, and I walk on the beach, feed blue corn-chips to the seagulls, and munch on blue jelly beans, blue saltwater taffy, and all the other free samples Mom had brought home from work.

I guess maybe I should explain all the blue food.

Gabe had once told Mom that there was no such thing. They had had this fight, which had seemed like a really small think at the time, but ever since, Mom went out of her way to eat blue. She baked blue birthday cakes, mixed blueberry smoothies, bought blue-corn tortilla chips, and brought home blue candy from the shop. This - along with keeping her maiden name, Jackson, rather than calling herself Mrs. Ugliano - is proof that she isn't totally suckered by Gabe. She did have a rebellious streak, just like Percy.

When it gets dark, we make a fire. We roast hot dogs and marshmallows. Mom tells Percy and me stories about when she was a kid, back before her parents had died in the plane crash. She tells us about the books she wanted to write someday, when she had enough money to quit the candy shop.

Eventually, it seems that Percy gets the nerve to ask about what is always on our minds whenever we come to Montauk - our father. Mom's eyes go all misty. I figure she would tell us the same things she always did, but neither Percy or I ever got tired of hearing them.

"He was kind, Percy," Mom replies. "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle too, like you, (Y/n)." Mom says and I soften. "You have his black hair, Percy, and you both share his green eyes.

Mom fishes a blue jelly bean out of her candy bag. "I wish he could see you two. He would be so proud."

I wonder how she could say that when I'm the girl who cowers from her stepfather. The girl who hides in her room to get away from said stepfather.

"How old were we?" Percy asks, pulling me from my thoughts. "I mean . . . when he left?"

Mom watches the flames. "He was only with me for one summer, Percy. Right here at this beach. This cabin."

"But . . . he knew us as babies."

"No, honey," Mom replies. "He knew I was expecting twins, but he never met you. He had to leave before you were born."

I try to square that with the fact that I seem to remember . . . something about my father. A warm glow, maybe a smile.

Percy and I had always assumed that our father had known us as babies. Mom had never said it outright, but still, I'd felt that it must be true. Now, to be told that he'd never even seen us . . .

I feel angry at my father. Maybe it is stupid, but I resent him for going on that ocean voyage, for not having the guts to marry Mom.

"Are you going to send me away again?" Percy asks. "To another boarding school?"

Mom pulls a marshmallow from the fire.

"I don't know, honey," her voice is heavy. "I think . . . I think we'll have to do something."

"Because you don't want me around?" Percy says and I flinch, avoiding both his and Mom's gazes.

I glance up to see that Mom's eyes had welled up with tears. "Oh, Percy, no. I - I have to, honey. For your own good. I have to send you away."

"But you never send her away," Percy says and I look up, eyes wide with surprise.

Mom looks at Percy, eyes wide with shock.

Finally she says, "I have to keep both of you away from each other as much as possible. I thought you'd finally be safe."

"I tried to keep you as close to me as I could," Mom says. "They told me it was a mistake. But there's only one other option, Percy, (Y/n) - the place your father wanted to send you two. And I just . . . I just can't stand to do it."

"Our father wanted us to go to a special school?" I ask.

"Not a school," Mom replies. "A summer camp."

My head spins. Why would my dad - who hadn't even stayed around to see me and Percy be born - talk to Mom about a summer camp?

"I'm sorry, (Y/n)," Mom says, seeing the look in my eyes. "But I can't talk about it. I - I couldn't send you two to that place. It might mean saying goodbye to you for good."

"For good?" Percy asks. "But if it's only a summer camp . . ."

Mom turns towards the fire, and I know from her expression, that if we asked any more questions, she would start to cry.

Word Count: 2413 words

[tennessoui]

I absolutely love your KUWSK snippets and had to read them all after discovering the first part on ao3! (I should also work but I'm non stop giggling instead)

May I ask for: anakin being stressed out (big deadline coming up, handling the kids, work & cooking being too much) so obi-wan wants to help him out? Like he tries to cook for the family for once but I remember you saying that he can't cook to save his life? maybe rope the twins into it as well as a nice bonding moment

hello!!!! i've been meaning to write this for ages and i kept getting side-tracked/didn't have the time to sit and write a proper ficlet, but I did today! Here's 1k now, and I'll post the whole thing tomorrow afternoon(ish) on ao3. I mis-remembered the prompt until it was too late to really change directions, but so this is more of a sick!fic than a stressed out!fic but I do promise KUWSK Obi-Wan does step in even when Anakin is not sick to help with the kids, the clean up after cooking, helping them with homework, keeping the house tidy etc etc

anyways here is the beginning of sick fic! (SET about a month before The Kiss, 2 years after Obi-Wan and Anakin and the twins move in together)

-

It’d be much easier to take care of Anakin when he’s sick if he would actually admit to being sick.

“Skywalkers don’t get sick,” he’d insisted just a day ago. Obi-Wan had raised a very pointed eyebrow towards the twins who are looking quite pathetic, sniffling in their beds and coughing into their fists.

“That’s their Amidala genes,” Anakin had said and then sneezed into his elbow.

Obi-Wan had known at that moment that the next few days would be very awful for everyone involved.

But Anakin is making it much worse than it has to be, he really is. Thank god it’s midterm week, so Obi-Wan can finagle his TAs into proctoring the exams. Thank god he has four TAs for his biggest lecture module, so that they can grade them all too, which means Obi-Wan just has to read through and mark up his capstone students’ midterm essays.

Which he can do from the comfort of his own house turned Emergency Skywalker Walk In Clinic.

The twins had woken up with a fever and a sore throat on Wednesday. They’d never been sick in the two or so years they had all lived together, and Obi-Wan, admittedly, had not known how to handle it.

Anakin, in a surprising twist of fate, had been much more level-headed about the whole thing. He’d called the school to let them know the twins wouldn’t be coming in, and had asked Obi-Wan to run to the pharmacy before his classes to pick up some meds for them. And perhaps a thermometer.

(“I can’t believe you’re forty-four and you don’t have a thermometer.”

“Well, that’s not fair. I have one in the kitchen.”

“That’s different and you know it--”

“Of course it's different, I was just theorizing that perhaps having a kitchen thermometer actually makes up for not having a person thermometer.”

“Yeah, and instead of giving the kids baths and changing their sheets, we can just baste them in their own fever juices too!”

“I’m going, I’m going.”)

He’d calmed down in the face of Anakin’s own composure, but then on the way to the pharmacy he’d listened to a podcast episode about devastating and lifelong effects certain illnesses can have on children, and he had managed to work himself up into a stressful tizzy by the time he parked the car.

The amount of products he’d bought, Obi-Wan can admit now, was a little over the top. Anakin had certainly laughed when he’d come back through the door, not even bothering to take his coat or shoes off--even though the no-shoes-inside rule is his rule--and started unpacking the four plastic bags worth of medical supplies.

“Well, now I’ll feel bad if the kids aren’t sick until June,” Anakin had said, picking up one of the cough syrups to examine the label.

“That kind will make them sleepy, but this kind tastes like grapes,” Obi-Wan had muttered. “And this kind is okay to give to children under four.”

“The kids are--”

“I know how old the kids are,” Obi-Wan had snapped. “This is called being prepared.”

“This is called diagnosable,” Anakin had laughed and then ducked out of the way when Obi-Wan chucks a package of band-aids--he’d panicked, okay--at his head. “Hey,” he’d said after a moment, coming forward and placing his hand on Obi-Wan’s elbow. The contact had burned through the layers of clothing he’s wearing. “They’re going to be fine, Obi-Wan, really. I’ll be home all day taking care of them, and I’ll make chicken noodle soup for dinner tonight.”

“I can make chicken noodle soup for dinner,” Obi-Wan had protested. “You don’t have to do everything.”

“Obi-Wan, they’re already sick,” Anakin had shaken his head with a grin. “The point is to try and feed them something they’d want to at least try to keep down.”

“I hate you,” Obi-Wan had sighed with a quirk of his lips.

“I love you,” Anakin had said, as if that was something he said on the regular, reaching out to take the thermometer from his hand. Obi-Wan’s grip had gone slack though, causing the thermometer to clatter to the counter. “Like a brother,” Anakin had tacked on hurriedly and then winced.

“Right,” Obi-Wan had coughed, wondering why the addendum made his chest feel tight and strange, like missing a step on the stairs. “Well. Yes. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Anakin had said, looking even more mortified.

“Right. Ah. So. I’m. Going to campus. If the twins need anything else, please let me know. I’ll pick up whatever you need for...dinner on my way home. Just text me.”

“Will do,” Anakin had agreed, staring resolutely at the cabinets over Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Bro.”

And to his credit, Anakin had texted him with a long list of things they’d need from the store.

He’d just also failed to mention his own rapidly declining health. Obi-Wan had arrived home to Anakin coughing up a storm in the dining room and the twins bundled up and bleary-eyed in front of the television.

The chicken soup had not been made that night because Obi-Wan had not allowed Anakin anywhere near the kitchen. Instead he’d fed the children toast and applesauce and let them keep watching their show until bedtime.

Anakin had been left alone for the most part, as Obi-Wan had been convinced that Anakin would see reason himself and stop working as he started feeling progressively worse.

That had, of course, been too much to expect.

“I can’t believe you’re twenty-eight and don’t know how to listen to your body when it’s trying to tell you you’re sick,” Obi-Wan had said, lowering and slowing his voice in a bad imitation of Anakin.

“I don’t sound like that!”

“You’re right, you couldn’t get through that whole sentence without coughing at the moment."

“I’m going to bed.”

“Please do. And for god sakes, Anakin, leave the laptop down here."

“Good night, Obi-Wan."

[persephoneyss]

Bad Movie.

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x f! Reader. Ft. Jungkook.

Genre: Yandere, dark themes, angst, gore a little.

Summary: ❝Looking for the person you love, beautiful woman.❞

Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsession, harassment / stalking, humiliation, forced marriage, non-sexual intercourse, abuse of power, implicit murder, drug use naming, minor past master / pet relationships, secondary character abduction, ugly hallucinating hoseok , beatings, blood, photos depicting abuse, mistreatment and death, bribery, sexism and humiliation (directly aimed at female prostitutes), hoseok mistreats and humiliates jk, awkward marriage proposals, use namjoon as a secondary character because it hurts more:(, etc.

Number of words: 6000+

︙Author's Note: This is my longest fic so far, I think. It took a lot for me to do it, especially since I didn't have a clear idea about the whole plot that would take and the role that each character would develop. So if you see Jungkook in a kind of strange character, blame my mind for including him almost last. Also, I hate Hoseok in this fic. Namjoon angel and fallen soldier, by the way let me know if they cried with his death, it hurt me to write it. Thank you very much for the 200 notes in my previous fic, I'm crying.

Read the Warnings well and enjoy!

(Sorry for any mistakes, my first language is not English and I am not fluent either.)

Puedes leer este fic y más aquí en español.

Confidence, a beautiful and treacherous feeling at times.

Feeling superior is a constant whisper of the ego within you, calling to be released and make others feel as what they really are, despicable and useless trash. It was fun laughing at losers when you haven't had that sense of defeat yet.

Hoseok fervently watched his rivals fall at his feet, laughing at his incompetence and stomping even more pathetic defeated form even though they were already dead in tears of pain. He smiled, he always did when he felt invincible and He bit his lip gently to hold back an excited laugh.

No one could be compared to him, and in his high sense of power he could never be alert when he struck him with a blast of vengeance.

It was you.

His eyes stared at you in horror and anger, his ego inside him hated you from the first moment. Because while despicable, he loved you for much more than his pride and winning sense.

He fell at your feet but he never made you notice it, behaving as he normally would around you even though he was always behind you.

Luck was her greatest ally, he always smiled at her and she helped him. It was fun to play with your opponents pretending to be the victim, the cornered mouse and then smash everyone with a snap of your fingers.

His mother looked at him with love and his father with pride, he was the only and favorite son of the Jung family. His success was never derived from love, much less, it was blasphemy in his family to say something so false and impossible.

Hoseok admired his family when they met in the great message of his parents' house, his grandparents smiled and his relatives brought out their most exquisite stories to entertain. They were all crows pretending to show interest in a prestigious place in the will of the family's monarch, his grandfather.

It was at one of those dinners that he got to meet you, he used to get bored of hearing his cousins ​​tell their anecdotes with prostitute women who mostly called, whores of a night. Mocking their shocked faces when they refused to pay them and threw them out of their big luxurious houses.

He rolled his eyes when a family friend, little Jungkook who was known to his father because of his prestige in his last name, chimed in trying to get into the conversation with a shy smile.

Lucky bastard, he thought bitterly. He didn't like the little idiot sticking his hands in boiling water, he wasn't even supposed to be there.

He hummed a goodbye as he walked out the front doors, walking aimlessly to his bored eyes. His feet stopped abruptly with a strangled sigh when he first saw you, you looked tired as you apparently searched for a key inside your bag. Could visualize the logo on your shirt from the grocery store where he assumed you were employed, He stood looking for what seemed like an eternity at you before you find the keys and rush through the back door. He snorted before lazily continuing on his way, however the next day he ended up following in your footsteps again and with even more confidence.

It took a few weeks for him to be able to enter the small commerce store and be able to look you face to face for the first time, it was expected that you would serve him with a smile asking if he was offered something. But he did not see you anywhere, he looked for you before another equally young woman approached him kindly, he sighed making a face of disgust surprising the she worker, his expensive shoes got dirty on the floors of the humble place with shame. His little investigation and search took him through many corridors of the establishment, he observed the shelves and each person who seemed to be wearing the uniform of the store thinking of finding you distracted with your work, maybe he thought of approaching you and asking for directions which he clearly didn't need. Knowing that  she you couldn't refuse because that was your job. In a way, you were there to serve him.

He let out a bored sigh, tired of playing hide and seek, he turned around ready to leave that place that disgusted him so much in a certain way, but once again he stopped in an instant. It was a moan. He clenched his fists, walking hurriedly to the place where the noise came from, he was sure it was your voice and that made him even more angry thinking that he would find you in a compromising position with someone.

He did not think that his lover would be such a stupid and dirty person.

You were crouched on the floor, grimacing with pain and exhaustion. You seemed very annoyed trying to lift a box with your arms, the scene was tender and certainly pathetic, she smiled noticing that you were so distracted that you were never aware of how I was watching you with carnal desire and painfully bad adoration.

"I-can I help you." He was surprised at his little babble, justifying himself later. Nobody ever managed to make him nervous, his father used to despise weak people and certainly he always sought his approval by doing things that were not correct. "They seem heavy."

Your face pale before the scare, turning into a face of shame quickly, you shook your head with a gentle movement, smiling still pained. "I'm fine sir. Can I help you? Maybe he got lost, let me guide-..."

"Actually, I do need help but not with your services." I speak in disagreement, you seemed confused but she nodded at his request. The customer is always right, right? How convenient. "I need you to allow me to help you with that heavy box, not to be rude or calling you weak miss, but you can't seem to handle it."

Lie, under his politically correct excuse was a dialogue about how insufficient you are even with things as easy and common as carrying a box, obviously you needed his help and Hoseok could give you that and more, much more. You just had to say it, it was so simple and fun.

"I -... I can do it, but i will accept your help sir ..." He smiled making an emphasis for he to give him his name, he let out a small laugh finishing his sentence.

“Hoseok, you can call me Hoseok, darling..." He mock imitating his position, your name left your lips like a melody and he immediately felt the sweet taste of it slide down his tongue. Beautifully perfect, indeed. "Now that we can finish the introductions please allow me."

Her expensive outfit crumpled as she bent down to lift the box with ease, you were once again oblivious to her incoherent and certainly crazy fantasies, it was like a romance comedy movie in her eyes. The charming fellow always stays with the girl. And likewise, no one could go against the fictional plot.

He was immersed in the beautiful narrative that you would be hers at the end of the credits.

It was not the last time she saw you, she returned to her same routine of continuing to stalk you with obvious impudence. The only thing that really changed was her new setting and her character, he was hiding between the shelves waiting for the right moment to appear in front of you with a charming smile. Over and over, he was locked in an infinite loop.

He was starting to get tired of just having you in his arms and sheets just in his heavy and lustful dreams.

"A date? How funny Hoseok."

His face twisted in annoyance, but he put on a fake smile again when you looked at him again. "Hobi." He corrected in a high-pitched voice, insisting that you call him that. "And she spoke very seriously my dear, everything is ready."

"Eh ... I -..." A simple wave of her hands was enough to shut you up, you frown in confusion and secretly disgusted.

"On Saturday, I'll send you the address of the restaurant. Goodbye, dear!"

You watch it for a few seconds but he's already gone, you resign yourself to continuing with your work of ordering the products on the shelves. Thinking and trying to remember when you gave him your number. A very characteristic noise distracts you, a call makes you smile with love and adoration.

The plot is taking an interesting turn.

Hoseok was charming by nature, his economic position made him even more desirable to the opposite gender and even his own. It was not strange to see people flirting with him or being suggestive with his proposals, he was on a pedestal and he enjoyed it. His subconscious whispered a little bored. I couldn't deny that he became boring in a way, but you appeared in the story as an extra who soon became a main character. You changed the script of his life already established and narrated.

You were so funny.

He smiled in front of the mirror when he thought of you, since he met you that day he started chatting with you secretly from your supervisor. You had told him several anecdotes to make him laugh, you were also naturally charming pulling out various expressions of adoration that you did not even notice. Oblivious to that, you'd better get ready for the climax of the movie.

The wind was strong in the streets of Seoul, your hair was noticeably messy causing you to let out a tired sigh. You should be planning your wedding banquet right now, but you honestly didn't want to leave Hoseok alone at the dinner he had organized. You put the invitation in your bag, thinking of giving it to her when the time was right with a smile. He seemed like a good person and undoubtedly a good friend in the future.

"You're on time, I was just about to order our food. Honey." The last word slid down his tongue with malice and arrogance, Hoseok inwardly chuckling at your disengaged expression.

"Thanks, but don't stop you can order for both." You say arranging your chair correctly.

The restaurant looked relatively empty, there were only three other people including a couple who ate dinner while chatting enthusiastically.

You smile unconsciously, thinking about what would also make you feel the same way.

"I was looking forward to this dinner, my dear. I also hoped I could tell you how much you have captivated me for a long time, specifically since the first day I saw you." And the others too, he thought shifting your posture.

"Thank you, I'm very flattered to cause that feeling ... in, good in you." You whisper clearly uncomfortable forcing yourself to stay calm. You were sure that you had never given a hint or anything else in Hoseok to establish romantic feelings. "But I-... "

"I know, darling. That is why I have to offer you the opportunity to be my girlfriend and my future wife."

Wife?

For a moment, you feel a rush through your body. You refuse to make a scene in front of all the few people present out of respect, you calm down by counting to ten slowly in your head, but it becomes very difficult for you as you continue to observe his comfortable smile and how he behaves. He seemed very sure of the affirmative respect you would give him, you snort angrily at the thought.

"I am sorry to have been misunderstood Mr. Hoseok, but I am not seeking a relationship with you and very sorry I reject any relationship beyond friendship." Your body lifts up, making Hoseok laugh well in advance of your final sentences. "I am engaged and my future husband is waiting for me, good afternoon."

Trembling, you leave the invitation in silence, leaving the luxurious premises in the same way. The waiters watching you with surprise, being an audience of rejection and humiliation on your part. Hoseok sighs, sipping his wine glass patiently pretending not to hear what the couple behind him are saying.

What a bad luck.

Life wanted to want to return all his damn vanity to him, making fun of him with your almost imminent rejection, obviously he knew that you were engaged and that you loved the poor man who had the bad luck to be his competition, but love is not always the important thing in a relationship or at least not of both parties. The voices of the waiters and the couple distract him from his plans for his next step, he clenches his fists angrily dropping the silverware on the plate calling the attention of everyone in the place.

"Filthy vulgar and talkative people, she will be my wife even if her words have been heard by her prying ears." He raised his voice, causing everyone to shut up. "It's just part of the script."

Maybe if the character who wanted to be the main loses the role of him, he should be the villain. The bad guy in the movie.

He read the invitation with meticulous delicacy, laughing at the little message you put aside. He thought about attending for a second, wondering if it would be nice to walk in to go straight to the altar and shoot your husband willing to take his place by your side. But that would be risky.

"Where are we going, sir?" He asked his driver with a smile.

"Take me to the best brothel in Seoul." He whispered delicately, smiling just as happily as before your rejection. I'd make you pay double the bill for your indulgence.

And likewise, the world is a truly small place. Jungkook nodded clearly uncomfortable obeying someone other than Mr. Jung. Hoseok cornered him like a helpless rabbit in the claws of a cunning fox, flashing his jaw in warning. He felt confused about his little assigned task, watching the direction pointing the right way to his chauffeur who only followed orders.

A small feeling of remorse ran through him, making him want to vomit when he remembered how Hoseok's face was so close to his with arrogance, as his hands roamed his arms gently. He was disgusting how he used his power to such a useless and demanding gain, sometimes without any realism.

"Little Jungkook, you have a very lovely name. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, you were so insignificant that you seemed pathetic to me." He whispered making her wince. "My father told me that you are good at obeying, I would like to test his theory." His cold hands were constantly running down his arms, making a shiver run through his body. "Still remembering well, I already did it before."

Jungkook was weak under his cloak of power, where he could so easily hide it. Lose it. "Yes, h-hyung." An inappropriate moan came from his lips causing him to cover her mouth in shame, a little touch near his crotch was enough to tempt him. Hoseok smirked, narrowing his eyes before walking away slowly wiping his fingers on his expensive clothes in disgust.

"I want you to befriend someone, don't ask, just do it. I'll tell you your next step when you're done." He ordered bored.

"We are here, young Jeon." Notice Jimin with a smile, Jungkook sighed wearily thanking him before getting out of the car ready to fulfill his mission.

I observe him for a few seconds standing in the entrance without doing anything, he was cleaning the windows of the building with force. He seemed like a nice person, certainly a bit humble. He approached making the man bow respectfully, even though he was older. Money can buy everything, they say.

"I am young Jeon, a new investor. May I have a chat with you?"

The man was surprised, no one who was someone by name and a few numbers along with several zeros would be able to notice his presence and at least greet him. A coffee sounded more intimate and undoubtedly inconvenient for him, but again out of respect he accepted the offer with a smile adorning his features.

"My name is Jungkook informally, but I like you and you can call me that." He spoke kindly.

"Namjoon, Mr. Je -... I'm sorry, Jungkook." He corrected sheepishly, making her smile.

He still didn't understand that he planned to do Hoseok with a building cleaner, but he didn't feel in a position worth asking. Furthermore, he would still not receive an honest answer.

He passed by the same place every day, pretending to enter the building only so he could meet Mr. Kim and talk about unimportant subjects. He gained his trust almost immediately, promising that he would give her a better job soon at his own company. He felt like an idiot taking advantage of the man in front of him in such a way for a simple whim from Hoseok.

He was an idiot, but he didn't want to go back to what he was before. A pet.

"I'm very happy, I think she will make a good wife." He responded with encouragement, seeing how Namjoon nodded looking for a picture of his fiancée to show him. He seemed excited, Jungkook understood his happiness after he explained that he saved for a long time to achieve his dream of getting married in a church. They were both in it together, in looking for a future.

He got lost in his thoughts, maybe if he lied to Hoseok about gaining trust from him, saying that Namjoon was a very cold and quiet man, he could make him forget about it. He sighed squeezing the coffee cup in his hands, Namjoon caught his attention by showing a photo of you smiling at the camera with a background of the bridge and the sun behind making a beautiful background.

Jungkook became alert, having seen that face before.

Hoseok had you as the wallpaper on his phone, he knew it was you because of your characteristic features and the scarf you wore in both photos. You were the new fad of a rich fool.

"T-is ... She's so cute, you're very lucky."

Namjoon nodded with a smile, apologizing before returning to his work upon being called by his supervisor. Jungkook put aside his cup feeling the bitter taste of his thoughts, Hoseok was planning something, he knew he was a son of a bitch who liked to keep his plans under lock and key and in a deep grave. He walked away calling for Jimin quickly, before being accosted by Namjoon who came running over, seemingly forgetting something of the utmost importance.

"I apologized Mr. Jeon, but I wanted to give you this personally. It is an invitation, in addition to the proposal to be the best man at our wedding. My fiancee said that it would be appropriate for me to choose someone and I decided that you were perfect, you can decline if you prefer. . " He spoke kindly, as always. Namjoon seemed to have no hatred in his heart, making his own feel heavy on his chest.

Could he bear the blame?

"It's my pleasure to accept her proposal, thank you for considering me. Good afternoon, namjoon-hyung."

He said goodbye by getting into the car as fast as he could, making Jimin look at him with derision. Obviously noticing his nervousness, Jungkook sighed hiding the invitation as much as he could before reading Hoseok's message ordering him to go to his house to sort out his affairs.

It seemed like a joke as he always looked so flawless, ready to humiliate him again.

"Jungkookie, I'm glad to see you again. Now, we'd better come in for our talk." He smiled making anger grow inside him, Hoseok sat on one of his expensive furniture before pouring himself a glass of wine. "Well, I heard from a little bird that you accomplished your task. Good pet."

"Don't call me that, hyung." He grunted in annoyance, making him laugh. "I can't go through with this, I did what you wanted. Leave Namjoon-hyung alone."

"Oh, they're close now really cute. But you forget that I can't fulfill your wish, because "Namjoon-hyung " is an essential piece in my little game." I speak mocking him as always. "Then we will move on to the next step ..." He thinking for a moment, before snapping his fingers. "Invite him to a bachelor party night at the brothel in the center, I already made the reservation. When they are there, leave him alone. A whore will take care of him properly, and maybe you can go make him a oral another yourself." He sneered evilly, reminding her of his past, Jungkook bit his tongue resisting the urge to respond properly. "Since you're clearly good at it, little pet."

"Yes, hyung."

Hoseok nodded saying for him to leave asap, tired of seeing his stupid face. He got up ready to do so, but his arm was taken tightly before bringing his face closer to hers, Hoseok let out a sigh, doing he could smell his breath of mint and wine combined. His hand lowered him into his pockets dangerously close to his crotch, he bit his lower lip to resist a moan escaping him, this had happened before and he begged it to stop forever. From his pocket, she pulled the invitation out, making her gasp in horror.

"Godfather of wedding, new facet of you... kookie." Rolling he eyes pushing him away from him, he fell to the ground before being met by a blow to his cheek. "What a shitty pet, you idiot."

Two days was enough for you to tremble at the thought. Your dress was proud to be seen, it was the most comfortable dress you could find at a fair price. Namjoon tried to enter but he was stopped by your friend who said that he will wait until you keep the dress out of his sight avoiding bad luck. A smile wavered on your face, everything was perfect up to a point.

Namjoon looked at you, a blush covering his cheeks before asking his obvious question. You didn't expect him to want a bachelor party, but you couldn't refuse because you simply trusted him.

Maybe it was your mistake.

You wished him luck, feeling an inexplicable emptiness. Your friends didn't offer to make one for you, they just sat on the couch in their living room talking about movies and arguing about what color the cake would be. It was the calm before the storm.

Jungkook felt a giant headache, the lights of the place were making him dizzy. Jimin had insisted on going with him to such an 'unusual' place to keep him safe. Namjoon had brought a couple of friends who seemed to be always close to him preventing the woman who did the job Hoseok had him do from becoming difficult.

He smiled, thinking that he would have no choice but to let it go. But Hoseok was not a good loser, and neither was he a good winner.

Hoseok:

He distracts his friends, and be careful what you say, kookie.

Received at 11:30 p.m.

He bit his lip, glancing around the bar, thinking he'd find him sitting somewhere spying on everything but nothing looked suspicious. He sighed, sending Jimin out for drinks with one of Namjoon's friends who he gladly accepted. He got up having pushed one away, the other who introduced himself as Jackson seemed more reluctant to leave his friend alone but with a few excuses about feeling bad managed to get him out of sight.

Believed that he would find Namjoon sitting right where he was before but no, he was gone. He felt a burning feeling of guilt, maybe if you didn't find out, nothing would happen.

"You're still the same as before, boss." Jimin sat down next to him, making him uncomfortable.

"Same as before? I am no longer a child."

"But you continue to obey as one. The manipulation they use on you is your greatest weakness, you are afraid, you obey without hesitation thinking about how this will indirectly affect you. But you never do anything to avoid it, you feel bad about this but you still sit here without doing nothing."

"What can I do, Jimin? I don't know if he really left by his will, or if they forced him. I don't want to enter a room in this dirty place and see him sleeping with another woman, because he wanted to and is a fucking infidel . "

Jimin ignored his words, falling silent after several seconds.

Feeling unhappy is a horrible feeling without a doubt. The curious eyes looked at you as if they themselves could judge your story.

Namjoon disappeared as quickly as the wind, many sharp tongues said that he eloped with a lover so as not to marry you. Others believed it was a kidnapping, maybe a robbery gone wrong and he was taken away or he was killed somewhere far away. A sob escaped you just thinking about it, the detective in front of you watched you cautiously.

"We don't know anything about him yet, but we will continue with the investigations."

You nod, without saying a word. Jungkook came in minutes later with a handkerchief in hand, he observed you before gently hugging you. You had the pleasure of meeting him after Namjoon disappeared that night, he introduced himself as a close friend from work and quickly offered to help you with the search.

Maybe he felt guilt.

"Thanks, Jungkook." You smile wiping the tears that escape from your eyes.

"They are looking for the best they can, they even alerted the Japanese embassies in case they might take him there."

"Japan?" Puzzled questions. "Why would someone take him so far? He's just a man with little money, that's ridiculous."

"We don't know, but I promise I won't rest until I find it."

Hoseok sighs bored, witnessing the moment. He had been bribing the bloody police force to hide the information from you about the discovery of your fiancé's corpse floating in the middle of the waters of the river where they used to go together. The only thing that was removed intact from his clothes was a small photo of you smiling, sitting on the banks of the same river.

The police mourned the death, but his faces left grief when they saw the money in his hands. He made fun of Jungkook as usual, who passed by him ignoring him when he went to his house to talk to his father, he knew that the useless little one was very meddlesome in the search for your future husband and ex-fiance. He rolled her eyes remembering how she used to look at him with discontent in meetings, suspicious of him.

He was a good detective, he couldn't deny the obvious.

"You didn't have to do this, a I'm sorry was enough." You say admiring all the bouquets of flowers that came to your house from him. "And I'm sorry for your loss."

He wasn't sorry.

"My dear, losing a loved one is something without a name. I can give you more than this if you promise to smile again, I love your smiles."

Jungkook snorts approaching you from behind, Hoseok to growl at noticing him so close and see how he puts his hand on your shoulder, apparently like support.

"Hyung, he didn't think it's a good time for ... That."

"But little kook, when is not a good time to express how you feel about your loved one?"

"When that person you say you love is crying over the loss of someone special because of evil people who don't know what remorse is. Do you understand that, hyung?"

"No, not really." He laughs cynically making you lose your patience, your little body comes between the two men, with one already furious and the other inadvertently giving up, you make a face of annoyance before speaking.

"Sirs!" You yell at him immediately, Jungkook steps back adjusting his tie. A mania that he had and that you noticed when he presented himself in front of you with regret, he did it when he was uncomfortable or nervous. "This is not the time to argue, I think you'd better leave my house if you're just wasting your time. Thanks for the flowers Hoseok, and Jungkook ... I, I want to continue the investigation on my own."

"That?!"

"What you heard, don't feel responsible for Namj's disappearance -..." You tremble correcting your words, making Hoseok scoff. "My husband, he was just at the wrong time in the wrong place. Thanks for your help, I'll see how to pay you very soon." Jungkook denies trying to insist but fails when you are already closing the door and giving him an apologetic smile.

Your breath feels heavy, you sigh falling to the ground sobbing again. You wanted to find Namjoon, but a large part of you was afraid of how. Dead, with another woman, with serious injuries or simply ... Alive but with trauma for life. You did not want to see him suffer, it was your judgment in life to see the person you love cry in his pain.

You observe yourself, telling yourself that you would be fine when you find it.

Your email seems to explode with thousands of messages received from people claiming to have seen a man like Namjoon near their homes. You ignore them knowing that most of them were false, the first few days you read all of them giving the police false clues that they quickly denied and dismissed.

You dry your tears, closing all the windows and cooking a simple instant soup, eating in absolute silence. It was overwhelming feeling alone at home, where you were supposed to feel safe indoors.

The rain, thunder, and evil outside seemed to be invisible within that place.

A chill runs through you, the control of the television seemed tempting to calm that neat silence and avoid your boredom. You give up turning on the TV, you see the first channel, you keep changing looking for the unknown, you didn't know what you wanted to see. Maybe a newscast saying they found a tall man with dark brown hair and charming eyes unconscious, with a couple of blows to the face and a few scratches but okay, safe, alive and waiting to see your face waiting for him with a warm smile.

Swearing never ever to let go.

A couple of tears slide down your cheek, ruining your fast food. A few knocks on the door manage to scare you, causing you to bite your lip in anger.

"Who is?!" Questions in a shout.

Nothing.

"It better be good ..." You say in muttered, you open the door expecting to see a child running to his house laughing at his childish joke.

But no, there is no one at the door. Just a small envelope that easily slipped underneath, you take it hoping it's a letter from the police announcing good news. Maybe a simple identification of suspicious faces, or footprints at the club.

"I hate being the bad guy, it makes me feel good.

He's dead, I did it for you. For me. For us. I want to make you happy but it's so difficult when I don't know what you want, tell me what you want.

Love you. Love you. Love you.

My heart is so weak in your cold eyes, I feel that you look at me with ignorance of my feelings. Do you want to find it? Do you want to do it?! Okay. Good luck with it. "

It was everything, plus a picture of a golden ring with a large diamond shining brightly. You wrinkle the letter in anger, tossing it into the first bin you found nearby. It seems that in the end, someone did want to joke with you.

Your days remained the same, you went out to work and in the afternoons you called each of the investigators to ask for new news, it was almost always a solid wall, there was nothing really important to report and little by little, they gave up.

Jungkook knocked on the door, he heard some footsteps approaching making him have a little hope. But when the door opened he saw you with a worried face, he felt his heart squeeze in his chest when he tried to get closer but you avoid him by leaving in a hurry. You were dressed in a long black skirt and a white blouse, you were elegantly ready for something.

"Where are you going?" He ask stopping your hurried pace, taking your arm tightly.

"Yo, listen... He... Or her, I don't know who it is but ... You know, he or her know where, he's alive I know. I just don't have time, please."

Your mouth moves wiht fear, you were hiding something but not from him. You were willing to tell him but not now. Not at that time.

"Let me accompany you, I can take you and I will feel better if you are safe."

You nod, letting go of his grip and running down the stairs, outside there is a very elegant car, apparently waiting. The driver smiles at you as if he had known you before, you make an uncomfortable face trying to continue on your way but Jungkook introduces him saying that he works for him.

"Jimin, he's Jimin. He's a good person and a great friend, I've told him about you before."

"I see, sorry." You speak with a bow before climbing to the back, Jimin just smiles kindly, as always.

"Where are we going today?" He asks animatedly, Jungkook takes your hand for support making Jimin remove the smile from him. Your nervous state and your afflicted face are enough for him to understand the situation.

You give him an address, Jimin searches the map being unknown to the place. Your eyes sparkle when the lights of Seoul are reflected in them, Jungkook holds your hand tightly in fear of letting you go again. He felt sick when you stopped calling him, cutting connections with him totally to this day. He spend sleepless nights looking for more clues, the only thing I had until that moment was the identity of the woman, she was a prostitute without anything special, when he spoke with her he seemed indifferent saying that he did not know Namjoon and that the last time he saw him It was when he drugged him and left him in a room as ordered.

The whore made fun of him saying that he would give him this information if he did not tell the police anything, he obviously accepted. Now he repented, the woman disappeared after that and days later she was found in a garbage container. It seemed to be a suicide, the container was from her building, the window of her old apartment faced just where she was supposed to fall if she threw herself without thinking twice.

Right in the garbage.

The wheels of the car made a thud when it stopped, it was a cabin, the only one nearby. You came down quickly thanking Jimin who just made a flirty face. Your hands trembled with the cold, you look at the letter that tells you where and when you should be standing at the door.

"Wait for me here, if we don't go out or you hear noises, you know who to call."

"Yes sir!" Jimin obeys with a laugh at the boss's serious tone of him.

"Y-you should go, I can do this alone." Your voice rises in the echo of the silent place, Jungkook rolls his eyes before offering his arm to you, making his decision clear.

You laugh calming your nerves, the door opens just as you both step close to it. A man stops them, saying that only you can enter the next room. You stop Jungkook who was to protest, you calm him down by leaving your ring in his hands with a smile.

Your body disappears when another man closes the door silently, Jungkook sighs looking annoyed at the guards who ignore him.

A message coming to his phone distracts him for a few seconds.

Jimin:

Should I call the police, Mr. Jung, or the hospital?

Received at 9:35 p.m.

Smile ready to answer before hearing the door open again, he approaching you to ask everything and at the same time nothing. Your pale face is enough to make want to hit the person who was inside with you. Questions remain in the air, your arms surround him while you sob for forgiveness.

From the shadows Hoseok smiles, admiring the document in his hand, your signature shiny as gold is glued to it. He thought it would be more difficult to convince you to accept his marriage proposal, but the precious and expensive ring fit you perfectly. He raised his hand proudly admiring his own, the wedding would be planned as soon as possible making him jump like a happy child.

You had accepted, with the promise that he would bring you back to Namjoon.

But it was never specified in the contract that he would be alive.

The wedding was in a meadow, outdoors with distinguished guests and a few friends and family of yours. Hoseok greeted everyone, by taking your hand tightly introducing you as his wife immediately. It's as if he wants to show everyone that you now belong to him, as if you were a prize.

And maybe if you gave him the key to her success.

"You better smile my dear, nobody wants to know what will happen if you don't." Her lips brushed your hand before placing a chaste kiss on it. "I love you, my beautiful protagonist."

You sob, tears falling from your face as you melt into his disgusting caresses. The man in front of you, your un-predestined husband. The one who stole the position of your true love, he was kissing you delicately.

"Don't cry, decorate the room just the way you wanted. The photos were a special touch ..." His teeth bit into the sensitive skin of your neck, an involuntary groan of pain escaping. "Love you."

Your eyes move desperately to find a photo where the beaten, abused or dead body of Namjoon cannot be seen. You scream when you find one where you see blood everywhere, you are resigned to look down at the ground where Hoseok was crouching kissing the inside of your thighs.

Your mind tried to process the idea that Namjoon had been killed, mutilated and thrown into a river that washed away his body along with happy memories. Farewell to him was prolonged as your body faded in pain.

Hoseok enjoyed the sight of your eyes tightly closed, his cock throbbing inside you as she fucked you like his wife.

The head of the bed moved crashing into the wall, and unconsciously your walls tightened around it causing it to release a curse aloft to the sky.

We got to the end of the movie, smiled as he dazzled the credits by seeing Jungkook's lost name. His little bitch who was his toy for many years, laughed remembering how she did wonders with her mouth.

He pretended not to know him when her father introduced him, taunting her hurt face.

He held you in his arms tightly, you had been struggling to free yourself from his grip as he continued to abuse you over-stimulating your pussy. Your eyes closed falling asleep from crying so much.

He caressed your face, kissing your dry, chapped lips.

The end.

[glitterge1pen]

You Only Water Plants With Cool Water

Rukawa Kaede x reader, sfw, fluff, word count 1,435

reader is a painter 

Rukawa and you both had practice. Studio sessions, gym time, he needed to go to the store for new basketball shoes, you needed new paper or canvas. He knew when you had had a bad day. When every stroke of pigment was wrong, when you had to change water too many times. You knew when he had messed up his scoring percentages, or when he’d landed a shot not to his liking.

You also had good days though. Ones where you would be electrified, dragging Rukawa to the tiny bedroom studio in the apartment, excited to show him a new piece. He tried to be subtle about sharing his smaller successes with you. Quietly asking to go on a walk to the park on weekend mornings, picking up a basketball before heading out the door.

While Rukawa couldn't exactly understand painting, or art, he did understand you. He saw how hard you worked, the same as him. You too were striving for something. So he lets you ramble on about new art books you had bought, different painters you admired, ones you hated, an art supplies store you wanted to try your luck at. This was also how you understood him. You saw how at home Rukawa watched all the NBA games, kept tabs on different players.

The two of your respective passions consumed lots of your life. Which is why he didn't mind when you had the door to the studio closed when he got home from the gym. You didn't bother him when he was watching a game. He would sleep on the small couch you had tucked in the corner of the studio, the radio giving a play by play of some game. Legs hanging off the arm rest, simply enjoying being in your presence. Some days you would go to his practices, half watching, half sketching out ideas for a new chunk of canvas. This was one of those days.

Looking up from your lap you see that practice is almost over. You set aside your work to focus on Rukawa completely. He really is something else on the court. Brash, aggressive, and still sly. Those parts of Rukawa were the same. The part of him that bluntly told you while out shopping what did look ugly, that way you swore he moved stuff around in the fridge to mess with you, or how he shoulder checked people a little too often. When he was playing basketball it was like the various gears and screws that made up Rukawa were perfectly made to play, like it was the only that life made sense to him. It added something to his outward psyche, a fire of energy that exuded from every pore.

You watch as the team starts to wind down. Shooting from various points on the court, running sprints from one side to the other, to end practice there was a complicated passing drill that you couldn't follow. You were prepared to leave, grab some take out on the way home, but when Rukawa came over to you he flopped onto the bleachers.

“Hey! Come on you can't sleep here”

With a sweat towel covering his face he mumbles,

“I can sleep anywhere, just give me a couple minutes”

But you know with Rukawa that a couple minutes can range from thirty minutes to hours. You pull on his arm trying to get him up, his eyes are stubbornly closed though. You poke, you blow air on his nose, you ruffle his hair and pull on his clothes. When that doesn't work you try threats.

“I won't pay for dinner”

“I was going to pay”

He says, words muffled by the towel. Exasperated you sit back onto the cold bleachers. You reach into a plastic bag you have settled down by your feet. It's from the craft store, new paint, new brushes, you had stopped there on the way to see Rukawa. Cautiously you pull out some paint and let it rest against Rukawa's skin.

“If you don't get up, I’m gonna paint you”

“I dont care”

“Really?”

“Why would I care?”

Before you two had been playful, teasing, but when he asks that he is genuine. Like he couldn't possibly comprehend why that would bother anyone. He has one eye open now, peaking at you, seeing that you are considering it now.

“I don't care, go ahead, just let me sleep”

At first you're still a little apprehensive. You are slow to fill up one of the paper cups from the players bench with the water fountain. You use the colors little by little. Mixing them in the palm of your non dominant hand. You start with his arm. The paint moves differently on his sweat tinted skin and you have to adjust.

Rukawa floats in and out of sleep. Lazily watching your concentrated expression move expertly over him. He likes the way the brushes feel, the cool of the paint. He notes that you're holding his hand differently, it's deliberate, your fingers not laced with his but clasping onto him. You do this so you can twist his arm this way and that. He can see blues and greens mixed onto your own skin in puddles. Then he’s back asleep.

You are no longer paying attention to Rukawa, or the dance group that came to use the gym for practice. You like working here. The gym lights are bright, the AC blasting cold air. You were originally only going to do something small. But now Rukawa's entire right arm has been consumed by paint. You are putting the last few strokes of detail on his arm knowing that you aren't done yet. You are afraid to dab at the paint to see if its dry, you blow on it and Rukawa gives a small smile at the sensation.

You pull the towel off of Rukawa’s head and lay it over his chest, placing his arm there too. You grab your bag of supplies and move to the row of bleachers below Rukawa. His left leg your new target. This is harder for Rukawa to sit through at first. The bristles of the brush more ticklish, but it is soon calming once again. He wants to see what you’ve painted on his arm but his eyes are still so heavy, he so tired.

“Wow you're really good!”

“Thanks! He’s a pretty good canvas!”

Rukawa wakes at the sound of your voice.

“Oh sorry I didn't mean to wake you!”

It must be one of the girls from that dance team he decides.

“It’s okay he sleeps plenty”

You tell the girl, she laughs a little before waving herself away. You're packing up your things, swirling brushes into the cup of water, twisting paint tubes closed. Finally feeling satisfied with his nap, Rukawa slowly gets up. Used to sleeping wherever he pleases the dull ache from the bleachers doesn't bother him much. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and sees it.

You've painted a river. From his right shoulder to his left ankle is a river. Patches of grass and flowers growing along parts of it, stones, clouds, waterfalls, waves of water. It’s dynamic, twisting over the grooves of his muscles. You are surprised at how gentle his fingers move along the outline of the water, tracing it down his whole arm. In between his knuckles the water fades off his hand in droplets. The red flowers a bold contrast to the cool colors of the water. Fish leaping in and out of the water, some not even breaking the blue surface of paint, shadows of warm color beneath the water.

“You like it?”

You ask, he only nods, still admiring your work. You get him off the bleachers, once standing the daze he was in wears off. He grabs his duffle bag and the two of you head out. The night air is refreshing, the sky dark blue but bright like how it is in the summer. The street is still buzzing from the dusk. People on the way home from work, light traffic in the street, store and street lights flickering in the newness of the night.

“I’m sorry”

“Huh?”

You don't know what Rukawa could possibly be apologizing for.

“I’m gonna have to take a shower and the paint will wash off”

“That’s okay I knew that when I did it”

Rukawa seems discontent with this answer but you aren't sure how to help ease him. At the next block Rukawa turns the wrong way.

“Where are you going the-”

“Walgreens”

“What?”

“They have disposable cameras at Walgreens.”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　

A/N: If someone made a bingo chart of my writing Walgreens would be on it. Will post this on ao3 later today :) Also no :) I did not :) edit this :) 

[utapriyanderes]

Here’s the revised version:

Can you do a Yandere!HEAVENS (Eichii, Kira, Van and Yamato) when their s/o knocks them out in an act of self-defense when they're about to take things a bit too far (e.g. smashes a vase on their head). Thinking she's killed them, it causes her to flee in fright. Once she is gone, they get up and I let you decide what happens afterwards

Thank you so much for the ask and resending it in! I hope you enjoy it~!

(Edit: I wrote this then reread the ask, so this isn't necessarily out of self defense and just something they decided to try to get out of their captivity, but I still hope you enjoy it either way and if you would like it to be self defense then I can try again and you can just resend it. Though I hope you still enjoy it!)

Eiichi Otori:

    I ran out of the house as fast as I could. I quickly go into the garage and check to see which car this key works for before finding the right one. I'm quick to go into it and drive off, far away from this place. I don't take a single look back, taking in a long deep breath of air accepting my new found freedom.

    Part of me can't believe I actually did it! All it took was a swift hit in the back of the head with the alarm clock and then he instantly went down. I can't help but to laugh to myself at the whole ordeal. Why haven't I tried that sooner? Though it doesn't matter now since he can't take me back. He's dead after all.

    With that thought I drive. I drive as far away as I can until I need gas in the car. Thankfully I took his wallet with me so I can fill up the car and keep going. When the tank is full I go inside and pay the cashier the proper amount. I leave the store and start to walk back, but someone grabs me. They put a hand over my mouth and pull me into a dark corner where no lights are.

    "Did you really think it could be that easy Angel?" I can't help but to tense at that voice.

    "How about we go back home and talk this out?" I hear his voice right beside my ear. I start to kick and scream, anything to be noticed so I don't have to go back with him. Though no one is getting gas this late at night, and the cashier most likely can't hear me. So I'm stuck being dragged by him, being placed into the same car I drove away with. He puts me in the backseat and buckles me in. He then handcuffs my wrists to the top of the front passenger seat so I can't unbuckle myself.

    He then moves to the driver's seat and starts the car. He glances back at me with a smile on his face.

    "How about we go for a drive first? I should let you experience this one last time before I truly put you in a cage Angel."

Kira Sumeragi:

    I shift my eyes over from the back of his head to the vase full of flowers right beside me. He made the vase himself and gifted it to me to tell me how much he loves me. Though if he loves me then why would he keep me locked up like this? Which is also why I have to do this. If he loves me then he will understand.

    I grab the vase slowly to not disturb the quietness of the room. I take the flowers and place them back down. Then slowly I move towards him. As soon as I'm close enough I raise the vase as much as I can then smash it over his head. He goes down right then and there.

    I'm quick to then go find the keys and slip on my shoes. I put the front door key in the lock and turn it. Hearing the satisfaction of the door unlocking, I run out into the cool night. I'm so happy with being free that I don't even know where to run to. I just run and feel the fresh chilly breeze go across my cheeks as I run around aimlessly.

    I finally stop once I need to catch my breath. I stop by a lamp post and start to figure out a location to go to. Anywhere where people are should be good. In fact I should probably go to the police station, but I don't want to end up in another jail if I'm blamed for killing my "boyfriend" despite it being self defense. So I think it over. After a moment of thinking I reason that somewhere crowded would be the best option, but now to find somewhere that is crowded this late at night.

    Then, in the darkness of the night I see something move out of the corner of my eye. I look over in the direction I saw it coming from but see nothing. I can feel fear starting to creep up within me and decide that it's best to keep moving. Even though he's not around anymore, it doesn't mean someone else isn't here. So I start running, though I don't go far.

    I'm pulled back into someone and can feel something being placed over my mouth, a cloth with some weird smelling chemicals on it, but chemicals I know all too well.

    "It's... alright… (Y/N)... I'm here… for you… now." Those words in that voice are the only thing I remember hearing before my eyelids droop down and close. Then quickly after, I fall limp into his arms.

Van Kiryuin:

    I slowly back up. I look down at his lifeless body and drop the bat that I used to do it. After looking at him for a good minute I run as fast as I can. As soon as I'm out I grab the bike against "our" place and start pedaling. I pedal until I feel safe enough to finally slow down.

    I take a moment to consider my options before stopping at a diner that still seems to be open. I pedal up and then put the bike in the bicycle rack before entering. I walk past the one other customer in there and head towards a corner table. I quickly pick up the menu to look at what they have to offer. While looking at the food my stomach lets out a loud growl. Disrupting the quiet atmosphere.

    Though instead of being embarrassed I just end up ordering my food when the waitress comes by. Then as soon as my food comes, I dig right in. By the time I'm done with my satisfying meal I hear someone else come in. I don't pay much notice to who it is as I get up to go pay. Except all of a sudden, I'm called out to.

    "Hey, (N/N)-chan! I'm so happy to see that you're safe n' sound!" When I hear his voice it makes me almost want to lurch up all the food I just ate.

    "Don't worry, I'll cover this one." He flashes me a smile and pays for my meal. I use this opportunity to go outside and grab my bike. Yet when I go to pull it out I can't move it. I try to pull at it a few times but find it no use. I take a closer look and see that it's locked in place. Letting out a shaky breath I decide to start running, but before I can, he grabbed my wrist.

    "Van, please…," I start pleading with him. He lets out a soft chuckle, "It's alright (N/N)-chan! Let's go back home and talk this out. There's nothin' a little talkin' can't fix after all."

Yamato Hyuga:

    I run and run as long as it takes me away from him. I pass street lights and buildings knowing with each step I'll be farther away from him and a step closer to safety. Even when my feet need a rest and my lungs are burning for me to stop, I keep going. I might be free now and he may be dead, but it doesn't mean I'm actually safe.

    Though eventually I do stop. I hunch over to catch my breath once I can't take it anymore. A block up ahead I notice an entrance for a nightclub. I decide to go up a little and sneak in with a crowd of people going in. Once inside I'm hit with the loud atmosphere and can smell the booze coming from some people surrounding me. I decide to go hide in a corner of the bar and just observe everything for now and to take a short rest. As soon as I'm feeling better I'll head out once again.

    I look around the venue but mostly stay focused on the front after finding a back exit door if needed. I also wave off the bartender knowing that I'll need to stay focused. I end up thanking myself for it a minute later when I see him walking in. My heart can't help but to drop. Yet quietly I get off my stool and start to make my way onto the dance floor in hopes the crowd and flashing lights will cover me.

    I then start to make my way towards the back exit but in the middle of making my way there I feel someone grab my arm. My heart picks up speed as I turn around. Orange eyes are staring back at me. He gives me a smirk before looking up to notice the door that I was going towards. He then pushes me along as gently as he can until we are out of the club.

    As soon as we are out I try to yank myself free from him, "L-Let go of me!" I shout at him also in hopes someone might hear. He's quick to cover my mouth with one of his hands.

    "Did you really think a pot was going to do me in? It takes a lot more than that to get rid of me." Yamato looks at me challengingly. I glare back into his orange orbs trying to spread to him my distaste.

    "Heh, I'll forgive you this once. If ya don't make a sound as I bring ya back home." I don't want to give in. I want my freedom. Yet I know that if I don't give in then I'll have even less freedom than he already gives me at home. I refuse to be kept in a cage that small, so I give him a nod, making him remove his hand. He then moves his other hand from my upper arm to my hand.

    "Let's get going then." We start to walk hand in hand back home. To anyone who passes us by they probably see a couple taking a midnight stroll together… but if only they knew what this relationship really was.

[sunflowershouto]

crisis - shouto todoroki x fem!reader

a/n: enjoy! my requests are open, so if you liked this fic, please feel free to drop me an ask -leo

warnings: marital issues, mentions of parental neglect and abuse (in relation to todoroki's backstory), mild angst

because i write from a third person point of view, i recommend using the interactivefics extension! it replaces y/n, l/n, etc, with whatever you insert into the extension, and helps to make fics super immersive! it's a chrome extension, and you can find it in the chrome store.

[the song that inspired this fic is Crisis by Annie Eve]

𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒈 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒚. . . 𝑰'𝒎 𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖. . . 𝑰'𝒎 𝒓𝒖𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖. . .

𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐒

Y/N's keys chimed together softly as she dug them out of her coat pocket, her gloved hands struggling for a moment to take hold of the cool metal. Her face still stung from the cold of the snow outside, and she hurried to unlock the door to the apartment, stepping inside and letting her shoulders slump as soon as the door was shut behind her.

The place was silent, but a glance towards the kitchen, where a light shone dimly through the doorway, told her that Shouto was home.

Without announcing her presence, she slid her coat off, then removed her boots and placed them on the shoe rack, where they stood alone. The coat hanger in the entryway was the same way—her coat was the only one there, looking lonely as it hung in solitude from the rack.

"I'm hom—I'm here," Y/N called tentatively, catching herself before she could say the word 'home.' She lingered awkwardly by the front door, as though afraid to enter. "I'll get started on dinner soon."

There was a long silence as she crossed the hall into the living room, which was pristinely clean, but looked more like a picture from a catalogue than anywhere actually inhabited. The sofa cushions were uncreased, the table spotless and uncluttered. She stared at the room blankly, and realized that she felt like a stranger.

"I've already eaten."

There was no surprise, only a dull sting as she let out a soft sigh, pressing her eyes shut. "Alright. That's fine."

It had been a month of this already, and Y/N knew that most husbands, most couples, would have already worked a way around something like this—at the very least, they would have found a way to sweep it under the rug for a few more months, pretend that it didn't exist. But Shouto wasn't most husbands, and they were not most couples.

When Shouto wanted to hold onto something, he could take it to his grave; how else could he have gone for years without using an entire half of his quirk? She had always loved his stubbornness, admired him for his tenacity, but now when she looked at him, all she could see was a wall that she didn't know how to scale.

It was her fault, this whole argument. She had been the one to bring up the idea of having kids, she had been the one to press him on it, to try to have the conversation before he was ready.

They had been happy. If she had just left well enough alone. . .

Another long sigh drew itself from her chest, and she turned towards the kitchen, footsteps soft against polished hardwood. "Sho. . . Can we at least talk? Please?"

He was sitting at the kitchen table, staring down at an untouched mug of tea that Y/N could only assume had already gone cold. His dual-toned gaze flickered up towards hers for just an instant, and for a moment she thought she saw a spark of progress. Then the ice took over again, and he cast his gaze back down, his mouth bent into an uncomfortable grimace.

Y/N wasn't used to not knowing what to say to him; part of the reason that they had worked so well as a couple was their ability to practice utter candor with one another. This feeling of words being stuck on her tongue. . . It was foreign to her, daunting. Temptation to indulge in her anger sparked in her chest; it would be so easy to snap at him, to remind him with vicious fervor how badly he was hurting her, but those sparks died down as she took another look at his face. She knew that he was hurting too, that he was just as lost for words as she was. "Shou," she tried again, leaning against the doorway, her voice gentle. "We can't do this forever."

His grimace settled deeper into his features, and she saw his shoulders tense, his hands tightening around the ceramic mug. "What can we do?" he finally asked, brow creasing.

"We can talk about this. I know what you're scared of, Shou." Y/N crossed the kitchen to be at his side, her hand coming carefully up to the side of his face, fingertips skimming the red, rough skin over his scar. "You won't be like him. You won't be like your fath—"

"Don't."

Her breath caught in her throat at the feeling of his grip around her wrist, pulling her hand away from his face. His eyes were burning with something that rested in the valley between grief and rage.

His grip tightened again before he let her go, his chair wailing as he shoved it away from the table, his gait hurried as he rushed away from her.

Y/N could only watch as he left the kitchen and disappeared up the stairs like a ghost, drifting farther and farther away. Her eyes stung and a lump burned in her throat, and she fell into the seat that he had been occupying just a moment ago, burying her face in her arms.

She sat in silence under the dim kitchen light until her joints began to ache and her eyelids felt heavy. Eventually, she pulled herself up and padded slowly up the stairs, careful not to walk too loudly. The door to the bedroom felt heavier than usual, and the sight of Shouto lying with his back to her brought her pause. She didn't know if he was awake, if he knew that she was there or not, and part of her didn't care. He didn't move as she retrieved her pillow from her side of the bed and left the room, heading back down the stairs and finding a restless sleep on their barely-used sofa.

The events of that night had alienated her even further, and if there had been a wedge between them before, it now felt like a chasm.

Weeks passed with little change, and though they shared a space, Y/N could hardly say that it felt like they lived together. After the first few nights, Shouto had told her that she could have their bedroom—he would sleep on the couch.

Part of her was angry with him for it; even when he was being infuriating, he still found a way to remind her why she loved him. One kind gesture, however, wasn't enough to make up for almost two months of dysfunction. Y/N realized that she couldn't take this. Not for much longer, at any rate. She got home from work one cold evening, and found him as she usually did, sitting at his desk, handling paperwork for the agency.

"Shouto." Her voice was even, steady because she'd rehearsed this conversation in all its permutations before she'd even made it to their front door. She needed to be ready, or else she knew that she would break.

His hand tightened around his pen, and he froze for a moment, before setting it down and turning in his chair, not quite meeting her eyes. "Yes?"

"Look. . . I love you, but I can't do this. I can't stay here if you're going to act like I don't exist. If avoiding one conversation is worth our marriage, then fine. I'll accept that, but I won't stay. Do you understand?"

His eyes snapped to hers, widening ever so slightly. In that moment, he looked more attentive, more alert than he had in months. "Y/N. . ." His eyes fell shut and he leaned forward against the desk, raking his hands through his hair and drawing in a shaking breath. "I just- I need time. Don't go."

"I've given you time, Shouto," she shot back quickly, raising her voice slightly. "I need you to give me answers."

He fell silent again, staring down at the desk, his hands still tangled in his hair as he realized that he was stuck within an ultimatum.

She was deafened by his silence, and she looked to the side, jaw tightening before she began to step away and out of the room. "I'm going, Shouto." "Y/N—" "Don't."

As soon as she had packed her things, she left the apartment without sparing him another glance.

A week passed, and Y/N quickly realized how accustomed she had grown to living with Shouto; even when they had been sleeping in different rooms for weeks, it felt odd to live somewhere where he wasn't. She found it difficult to sleep in her friend's apartment, and even more difficult to eat with the growing uncertainty that was gnawing a pit in her stomach.

She knew that forgetting her notebook was a weak excuse to go back to the apartment, but she didn't have a better one, and part of her was too prideful to admit that she had simply missed him, that she was starting to feel like it was better to struggle with him than to try to move on without him. At the very least, she wanted to see him again, and maybe there was a little part of her that was hoping that he wanted to see her too.

It was late on a Friday night when Y/N drove back to their apartment, hoping that maybe he'd be asleep, and that she could sneak past him and he'd never have to know that she was thinking about coming back to him.

She tried to muffle the sound of her keys, but they rang loudly as she unlocked the door, trying to remain silent as she slipped back into the apartment. In her absence it had hardly changed; the furniture still looked unused, the kitchen was still perfectly clean. Shouto had never been the type to let his internal turmoil leak out into his surroundings, and Y/N didn't suppose that he was spending much time outside of his office.

She slipped off her shoes, then crept up the stairs without turning on the lights, navigating the dark apartment by memory as she made her way to the bedroom. The door was shut and the light was out, and a feeling of relief washed over her as she realized that he must have been asleep. Slowly, she pushed the door open, and stepped into their room.

Even in the dark, the room was achingly familiar; the colors that she and Shouto had picked out together stood out vaguely in the darkness, and it was all she could do not to succumb to the lump in her throat. She pressed forward, moving towards her nightstand and trying to ignore Shouto, who seemed restless as he slept alone.

When she realized that he was whimpering, she stopped dead in her tracks, her gut twisting. Nightmares were rare for him, but Y/N had always been the one who was there to pull him out of them; now he had no one, and guilt burned at her chest at the idea of leaving him there like that, forsaking him to the demons in his head.

Against her better judgment, she reached forward and flipped the switch on her nightstand lamp, washing the room in a dull, warm glow. In the light, she could see the sheen of sweat on his face, the way his muscles tensed and his face twisted in discomfort. Her heart ached, and she stepped toward him, her own heart pounding in her chest as she did.

This was a bad idea.

He wouldn't want to see her.

She should turn around and let him think that she had never been there.

God, if it wasn't hard to remember why she'd left him at all.

"Shouto," Y/N whispered, moving to his side of the bed and placing her hand lightly on his shoulder. "Shou, wake up. Please, wake up."

The way he started awake made her heart ache—his eyes were wild, ringed with dark circles, his face drained of all color. He searched the room frantically until his eyes fell on her, and his face softened immediately, his hand coming up to her face as though against his will. "Y/N. . ."

She gave him a bittersweet smile, compassion glimmering in her gaze. "You're okay, love. I'm here now." Tears welled up in her eyes as she took him in, took in how exhausted he looked, took in how much he was revealing as he stared at her.

He looked dazed by his swell of emotion, and he didn't hesitate to pull her into his arms, burying his face in the crook of her neck as the tension went out of his shoulders, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps. "I'm sorry, Y/N," Shouto whispered, his arms tightening around her. "All of this. . . All of this was because I was scared. I didn't think I could give you what you wanted, and you payed the price. And- And my mother-"

"It's okay, Shou," Y/N murmured, running a gentle hand through his hair. "You don't have to explain."

"No, Y/N. Listen. Please." He drew in another breath before he continued. "After you asked me about having kids, my father came to mind. I didn't—don't—ever want to be like him. But my mother. . . I would go to see her, Y/N, after we had that talk. And when I looked at her, and thought about what my father did. . . All I could see when I looked at her was you. You don't—you don't understand how badly that scared me, Y/N. And I felt, stupidly, that if I said anything about it, that it would make it real. I was too scared to take that risk." His voice was trembling now, vulnerable in a way you'd never heard from him. "Do you understand? I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"God, Shou," Y/N choked out, tears spilling freely down the sides of her face as she clung to him. "You should have told me. I could have- I could have helped you."

"I know, love," he murmured, and Y/N remembered for the first time in months how good it felt to hear him call her 'love.' "I'm still just. . . Learning."

"I'm sorry too. Walking out on you like that, I. . ."

"No, Y/N." He pulled back to stare at her intently, meeting her eyes directly. "You did what you had to do. You were right. You gave me every chance to talk, and I didn't take it. That's on me. I won't let you blame yourself for my mistakes—that's what he would have done."

She knew better than to argue with him, so she merely nodded before burying her face in his shoulder again, relishing in the feeling of having his arms back around her, of finally having broken through the walls that had been built between them.

Shouto was lying on his back with her draped over his chest, dancing on the verge of sleep when her voice broke the silence.

"For what it's worth. . . You would make an amazing father."

He didn't reply, but Y/N could feel his hold on her tighten, could hear his breath catching in her throat—and if she really listened closely, she could hear quiet sniffles as she drifted off to sleep, happy again in her husband's arms.