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#i did everything for them cared loved i had always been there for them
tteokdoroki · 2 days
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˗ˏˋ 💎  JJK MEN AS OVERPROTECTIVE GIRL DADS gojo, sukuna & geto .ᐟ
⋆˙ ᯓ★  about ! “a little girl’s first love will always be her father." three scenarios in which the daughters of three jjk men introduce their boyfriends to their fathers. ( 5.7K )
warnings ! minors blank and ageless blogs do not interact. video banner. not beta read. sfw, fluff, angst if you squint, no-curses!au, mentions of pregnancy, children and babies, the children have no names, some family issues, married life, domestic bliss, husband + father!jjk men, mother + fem!reader.
sonic says ! hello everyone !! i wanted to try my hand at some head canons and scenarios, i couldn’t get this idea out of my head so put a pause on working on kinktober to write it lol!! hope you enjoy <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ 
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ᯓ★ SATORU GOJO:
before meeting you, satoru gojo had never been fond of a family dinner. 
in his childhood home — they were cold and quiet, pockets of clattering cutlery would cut through painstaking silence and distract from the loud emptiness of the seat at the head of the table where his own father was supposed to be. his mother, often solemn and sunken in the shoulders, never spoke. never cooked and slipped small bites to her son in between preparation or steps.
they had staff for that, they had staff for everything.
to keep the household clean and together. to keep him fed and breathing. to keep him alive. all requirements felt almost clinical, the environment in which he was raised almost like the white walls of a hospital — without a trace of love needed for a child like satoru gojo needed to thrive. 
even if he had all the money in the world, he hadn’t a drop of love. he wasn’t ever sure if he was capable of the warm and fuzzy emotion, didn’t know if it was something his heart could ever open up to — sealed in by layers of cool, cold concrete and cement. kept in a safe without a key. at least until you miraculously found it and melted the thick layers of ice blocking satoru’s veins. you brought back colour to his cheeks and light to his eyes, taking up the space in his heart where his family had left a swirling, black void. 
to satoru, you were a saving grace. his everything… and he swore he’d never be like his father; who left his wife unhappy and empty, like a abandoned shell. he promised; he’d do much better than his parents ever did. especially when you found out you were pregnant, even more so when your little girl came into the world with plentiful white curls and lashes, screaming at the top of her teeny tiny lungs. 
at the time, you were sure you’d never seen satoru gojo so in love ( and so teary eyed too ) — but you knew what becoming a parent meant to him. what it meant for the new life you now shared.
but now, having met you and married you and created life with you — satoru had found a new appreciation for family dinners. they were a sacred event, a special time for him to keep up with the lives of his children and let them know he was there. present. 
it wasn’t a time to be imposed on and certainly not by meddlesome boyfriends brought home by sixteen year old daughters.
“so kid, what’s your 401K look like?” 
satoru carries a look of disdain, his nostrils flared, blue eyes narrowed and perfect pink lips curled in an unhappy frown. 
the young boy opposite him, a little scrawny and awkward, shrinks underneath the white haired man’s intense gaze — if you squinted, you could probably see him shaking like a little leaf in the intense wind from across the table “um… i don’t know?”
“hear that little guy? no 401K… how’s he meant to take care of your sister. yeah, yeah.
you’re right, i’ll give him a chance,” he mutters to the baby boy snoozing happily in his arms under his breath, engaging in a one sided conversation before switching his focus back to his daughter’s…sorry excuse for a partner. “okay then… finances, clearly not. academics and common sense —“ pausing,  the white haired father of two clicks his tongue, pushing it into the soft flesh on the inside of his cheek as if to feel his next words out in his mouth. “do you even know what a bouquet of flowers is, kid? a corsage? gojo women don’t play about their flowers, yanno.” 
“sir—“
without giving the boy a chance to speak, gojo drops his intrusive gaze under the table and back up again — pointing an accusatory finger at his little girl’s partner. “your top button’s undone and your shoe laces are untied. you might wanna fix that! if you care about my daughter’s safety!” he turns his nose up all petulant like a picky toddler being forced to eat his veggies, he even sticks his tongue out for good measure. gojo’s eccentric movements nearly jostle his sleepy son in place. the baby whines and gurgles a little bit, only soothed by a pat to his back from dad — who repositions him to snooze over his shoulder.
in a silent, quieter gesture, satoru uses two fingers to point between his eyes and the boy’s. almost as if to say ‘i’m watching you.’
catching him in the act, the eldest gojo daughter bounces into the room carrying plates of steaming hot food, exhaling with worm down patience evident in her body language. “daddy please, you don’t act like this normally. stop messing around.” rolling her eyes, she sets the dishes down, freeing up her hand to smack the back of her dad’s clearly empty skull. just like her mother.
“well sooooorrry for being a good dad and caring about your wellbeing! who you’re dating! who you’re bringing into our bloodline!” gojo rebuttals with petish grunts, unable to cradle the back of his injured head like he does with his son.  
and as if by magic, you, his beautiful and loving and gorgeous wife appear with dinner plates in hand to double down on a scolding the white haired man. amused, you also swat at your husband’s head and tut down at him. “satoru? what are you doing?” there’s something about the way you tease and tell gojo off that always makes his heart race, even after all these years of marriage and raising his kids. he loves you, his family so much. he almost keens into your touch like a pathetic dog, until your daughter starts gagging at the sight — slipping into her set. you were supposed to be watching the baby. not interrogating the poor kid.” 
“we’re having a heart to heart, babe,” gojo swoons, clearing his throat as his head bobs in the direction of his daughter’s boyfriend. “jimbob here was just telling me about his 3.4% grade point average.”
“it’s hiro sir! and uh… 3.5% sir.” the boyfriend in question chirps shyly.
you know that your husband feels… almost threatened by another man entering your daughter’s life — they’ve been practically inseparable since the moment she first opened her eyes. to give up the duty of loving and protecting her and pass it onto someone else is probably what scares him the most. “that’s pretty good hun!” you comment absentmindedly, hoping to pull satoru away from the conversation.
“no it’s not! our daughter has a 4.0%.”
“s-she was failing in math, i was tutoring her.” the boyfriend hopefully interjects again, whispering next when the baby stirs at the dining table. “i hope that makes up for my 401K sir. i-i also work part time to save for college and—!” 
“haha — no i wasn’t!” the younger gojo girl tenses in place, elbowing her date in the ribs not so discretely from under the table. it’s this interaction that makes her father smile, only briefly, before you scowl his way.
“i thought you told them we met at a tutoring session.” 
“you were failing?” you raise a brow, taking your own seat beside her father. 
“see! this boy failure is a bad influence on our daughter!” a glare settles on the slopes of satoru’s angelic features, mirrored by your child’s unimpressed expression across the table. in his arms, your youngest fusses about as if he senses the mounting tension at the table — earning a bounce or two from daddy, who turns your way all matter-of-factly like. “see, this why he doesn’t have a 401K”
“why would a teenager have a 401k, satoru!” comes your 
“i had one when i was his age.” satoru shoots back and the kid sinks nervously in his seat. the poor boy looks as though he wants to disappear, squirming in place like he’s no better than a worm on a bait hook — it’s torture being interrogated and inspected by someone so close to the person you love most, but even he knows how important satoru’s approval is to your daughter.
she wouldn’t say it now, not when she was all grown up and finding her way out in the world — but she idolised gojo, all of her fondest memories are painted in his colours. shades of sapphire and azure like his vivid eyes, snowy white from his hair that almost rivals the clouds in the sky — the backdrop to days spent riding her father’s shoulders through the big wide world, racing down grassy green hills and wasting the hours away. she wouldn’t admit it here, today, but she never wanted to leave those memories. leave her father behind in her youth — it was written on each dip and curve and highlight on her youthful face, she wanted her father to move into this next phase of life with her too.
“daddy, you were a trust fund baby with shit grades and no prospects until you met mum,” she huffs but her words hold no malice, even if the sass brims over the edge of her tone like an emotionally charged, overflowing glass of water. you’d chide her for cursing — but you know she means well, stubbornly expressing her desire for approval to her man child of a father. “a loser, if you will.” 
gojo slumps, the rosey petals of his plump lips pushing into an age old pout. “how could you say that about dear old dad?” he whines, as though he’s a wounded animal. 
“well she’s not wrong, baby. you were a loser satoru, you still are.” the words are fond and light hearted on your tongue, a similar state to the wisps of a smile that trace over your own lips. leaning in close, you tickle the nose of the gurgling baby boy in his arms, heart heavy with affection — grateful that the one interaction you had with your husband all those years ago ( when he was a scrapier and misunderstood ) led you both to the beautiful chaotic family you have together now. “a hot one at least.” 
“gross.” your daughter groans and buries her embarrassed gaze in the spread of food on the neatly laid table — grabbing a plate and piling it high to cope.
her boyfriend chuckles nervously, wanting nothing more but to eat and do the same. desperate to hide from gojo’s intimidating aura, but too afraid to cross another one of his ridiculous invisible lines. “i think that’s very sweet mrs gojo!”
the brief moment of peace in the war of dad v boyfriend is then interrupted by the white haired man’s temper tantrum, realising that his only daughter is still in the room. “don’t push it kid.” the father of your children all but wails and finds something else about the young couple to pick apart. “you’re sitting too close together! move apart!” 
“daddy—!”
“w-what?”
“i said move it or lose it kid, before i keel over and die of heartbreak.” “betrayal. my own daughter, leaving me for someone else.” 
the two separate, shifting their chairs away from one another despite never actually being too close. you share an empathetic look with your eldest, empathetic to your husband’s actions. you both knew he wouldn’t handle the meeting well, but this was beyond your whilst dreams. the young couple’s hands remain intertwined under the table cloth as the meal begins properly, and when satoru notices, he doesn’t comment — biting down hard on his unhappy tongue. he knows all too well what it’s like to love against the odds, his father in law hardly wanted him around you. it’s not like he wasn’t aware how bad he was for you, how your standards might have even dropped for the man to be with him. but you loved satoru with your entire being, wholly and against all of your own parent’s wishes. 
in a way, the dinner tonight reminds him of himself meeting your father for the first time — how he had to work for his approval too. prove that he was more than just a spoilt brat. too caught up in the memories, the odd sense of loss threaded between his every breath and the love he holds for his daughter settled in his lungs — gojo almost kissed the way you whisper to him adoringly, head drooping to rest on his shoulder mostly to look at your baby but partly to comfort him. “you’re being dramatic satoru. look at them, don’t you just love young love.” 
and he does, he looks, really looks — softly staring across the table and through the haze of his own judgement, noticing how happy his little girl looks all wrapped up with her boyfriend. all he’s ever wanted is to keep her smiling, give her a life that his parents couldn’t give him, he feels all of his resentment and fear or losing his daughter melt away like a plain sheet of paper dissolving in water. he loves her too much to not let her be happy, his baby. his little girl. 
“no, not at all,” satoru finally relents with a wobbling voice and silvery tears that dot his vision — shaking his head back and forth to stop them from dropping onto his sleeping son gathered in his arms. “w-why would you say that? god, is it allergy season? my eyes are killing me. they’re not cute at all, why would you say that i’m crying?” 
your teenage daughter glances over, relief evident in all of her identical gojo features. “no one mentioned you crying, daddy.” she coos softly in an attempt to console satoru.
it doesn’t work, he starts dry heaving and sobbing. which is new for her, he hasn’t cried this hard since her baby brother was born.
the kid scrambles into his pocket and damn near stumbles over the table in order to hand your white haired lover a tissue. “i don’t think you’re crying sir!” 
“shut up!” gojo sniffles dramatically, putting on his best theatre kid act and drapes himself ( and the baby ) all over you. “shit, is this cushioned tissue? three ply?” pale, deft fingers swipe at the blue pools of eyes which well with tears while the kid nods over enthusiastically — desperate to please his girlfriend’s guardian. “good stuff this is… but this doesn’t mean i approve of you for my daughter!”
“gojo!” 
“whaaaaat!? he doesn’t have a 401K!”
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ᯓ★ RYOMEN SUKUNA:
if you’d told sukuna, almost a decade and a half ago, that he would end up with a life shrouded in domestic bliss — he would have laughed in your face. maybe even called you a cunt whilst telling you to fuck off. back then, when he was younger and the spirit of ambitious fire burned brightly in his veins as though he had petroleum for blood, the pink haired man never dreamed of settling down. buying a house. getting married. or having kids.
he was as untameable as a wild horse, with only one goal in mind. to open up his restaurant and get his family out of that shithole town by all and any means. he’d cross whatever rivers he had to, climb whatever mountains he needed to — push past societal hurdles that judged him for the pink in his hair and the thick ink on his body. ryomen sukuna did not care. not about anyone else, only about his goals.
at least, until he met you. 
in many ways, you were a blessing to the world where sukuna was a curse. his complete opposite, the day to his night. though the worlds and lives you came from were completely different — 
nowadays, the man is a little softer around the edges and weaker in the heart — they say that’s what true love does to you.
a set of keys jingle at the front door, followed by the dull thud of trainers on the shoe rack and footsteps on the mahogany wood floor. sukuna hardly looks up from the article he’s reading — something about the best recipes for autumnal vegetables. who would have thought, ryomen sukuna, reading up on gardening. he would tell anyone who asked it was for his restaurant, not because he actually enjoyed it. would make him look soft. 
“hey, i’m home!” the voice that calls to him is sweet and youthful, a dulcet symphony that tugs paternally at the pink haired man’s heart strings. “is ma here?” 
sukuna smiles to himself behind the newspaper, inhaling its fresh ink scent. “in the kitchen, workin’,” he replies absentmindedly, listening to his daughter skid down the hall after dropping her backpack. “oi squirt, you ain’t slick. you know what day it is, report card. now.” 
there’s a dramatic sigh that follows footsteps trailing back into the living room. sukuna’s daughter, his pride and joy clings onto the doorframe with a scowl that could very well rival his own, ruby red eyes twinkling with annoyance — she’s in a rush to chat with her mother after school, he knows, but he can’t help but to tease her just a bit. “s’in my bag, can i go now?” she whines impatiently but takes off at the first gentle nod from her father in reply. 
but the pink haired parent’s peaceful evening is quickly turned upside down at the discovery he makes in the bottom of his pride and joy’s bag. no matter how much time has passed, how many decades have gone by in which he’s been a father — nothing could prepare him for this new challenge, the new wave of emotions that come with having a tween daughter and swirl hotly in his chest.
“what the fuck is this?” he announces with a foul snarl, slipping into the kitchen where his girls chitchat idly over a test batch of cookies sukuna had made earlier in the day. for his restaurant of course. not because he’s a doting husband or loving father. he’s got an image to uphold and it’s not one of domestic bliss. 
his daughter chirps, not looking up from the sweet treat she picks apart and pops into her mouth — seated on the kitchen island while you work away on your laptop. “what’s what, daddy?” her innocent nonchalance about the older sukuna’s discovery almost makes him pop a vein. “also, ma told you to stop saying the f-word. so, swear jar.”
the hulking man with the contrastingly soft pink pokes his tongue into the soft epithelium of his cheek, his jaw ticks and a playful frustration tingles throughout all four of his limbs. the swear jar was something you’d brought into play as soon as [daughter name] had learned how to talk, afraid that your rough and rugged husband’s potty mouth would rub off on her young impressionable mind. every time a cursed word falls from between ryomen sukuna’s lips, a couple hundred yen is popped into the jar as punishment. the thing was practically full by your baby’s third birthday, so you’ve been putting it down as her college fund ever since.
paper rustles between deft and tattooed fingers as sukuna reveals not a report card, but a crinkled note like the kind passed back and forth between distracted kids in the middle of that one class before lunch. “don’t play dumb with me, squirt.” ryomen holds the note up to the light so that both of his girls can see, blood diamond eyes squinting so he can inspect it better. somebody get this guy his glasses. “‘do you want to go out with me? tick for yes, cross for no.’” he reads out loud, each word leaving a bitter taste on his tongue, his frown so deep that lines of disapproval form on his well-aged face.
thoughts of the once all-important report card vanish into thin air, the relaxed aura in the room replaced with a palatable tension that not even your husband’s finest knives could cut. your precious baby girl shoots up from the counter to scramble with her dad over the note in hand. he holds her back with a large palm to the forehead.
“oh my god! you weren’t supposed to see that! daddy, give it here. please!”
“fat chance, squirt,” the tattooed man retorts. “you passin’ notes in class? that why you’re hidin’ your report card?” 
“you can have my report card, when you give that back!”
with the two standing side by side, the resemblance strikes you as clear as day. they share the same hair, same scowl and same rugged intonation to their voices. they’re both yours, your entire world under one roof. before they can blow said root off, you stand between the elder and younger sukuna — turning to your husband with hooded eyes and a gentle hand on the centre of his broad chest. “oh ryo,” you coo in flirtation, slowing his train of thought as you sneakily swipe the crushed paper from his grip. “shut up ‘n let me see that.”
your daughter gags behind you at the display of affection, contrasting with the amused smirk you share with your long time lover. after all this time, marriage and the perfect kid, you’re still able to make a fool out of him — make sukuna’s heart skip a beat and a heat he refuses to acknowledge crawl up the back of his neck. he’s gone soft, for you and his family. for now, for you, he relents on taunting his precious little girl. 
casting your gaze over the note, you grin at the pink-ink chicken scratch scribbled across the page. it’s sweet and endearing, reminding you of young love. “did atsushi finally ask you out?” you ask tenderly, handing the paper back to your daughter who cuddles it to her chest like the  physical version of a precious memory. 
a bashful expression lines the contours of her face, seeping into features you’d recognise from your husband on her. sukuna would argue that she has the shape of your eyes and your beauty too — but all you see is a culmination of love. “ma you were so totally right, playing hard to get really works!” 
she gushes dreamily over her crush like it’s puppy love, biting her lip and bouncing on the spot. 
“like a charm, every time.” comes your entertained response, much to your husband’s dismay.
“you weren’t playin’ hard to get with me…” sukuna questions rather than states, trying to piece together parts of the gossip that he’s missed. an anxiety corners the beat of his heart at the thought of his daughter dating, something in which the burly man never thought he would be afraid of. the world had been hard on sukuna; he only worries that it’s not as safe for his pride and joy as it were for him.   “never mind that; the brat asked you out with a piece of paper?  y’better not have said yes. we have standards here.” 
his words make you roll your eyes with the hint of a smile. ryomen almost reminding you of your own father around the time you’d met him.
your daughter scrunches her nose petulantly, gearing herself up for a witty reply. “well ma married you, so her standards can’t be that high.” she snaps, earning a stifled laugh from you and an unimpressed grunt from her hardheaded dad. “and no, i didn’t. told him he needed to ask me out  properly. face to face. with words. he said to meet him on the running track tomorrow at lunch for a surprise!”
pulling her into a hug, you kiss her round youthful cheek. “oh baby, i'm so happy for you!”
“well i ain’t! show me the damn kid, need to see what kind of pitiful brat wants to ask out my little girl,”  sukuna crosses his arms and grumbles to himself, black ink tattoos flexing menacingly as he does so. almost as if he’s preparing to threaten the kid before even meeting him. “whatever happened to askin’ for permission to court or whatever. he should have been on my doorstep asking for your hand.” 
“firstly you would have said no, and secondly this isn’t the olden days, dad. nobody does that anymore.” your cheeky daughter chides him loudly, her words slipping over her snarky little tongue. like father like daughter, the way they snip and snap at one another has an uncanny resemblance.
tilting your head upwards towards your fuming husband, you laugh breathlessly in a way that washes away his anger.“she’s right ryo; though my dad hardly approved of you either.” you say softly. even now, you make him feel weak in the knees and dizzy in the mind, like he’s so anything for you. whoever dates his daughter should feel the same about her.
“i freakin’ earned it, didn’t i? 
“just barely.”
sukuna huffs but settles a hand on your waist from behind and his head atop yours. he needs to soothe himself somehow, his daughter is growing too fast. “stop ganging up on me and lemme see the damn kid.” 
“here, isn’t he cute.” 
lips downturned, sukuna craned his neck to look at your daughter’s phone from over your shoulder — scrutinising the instagram page that she’s opened now offering the kid his only child has taken an interest in like a lamb at the slaughterhouse. “brat looks like a noodle.” haughty laughter fills the kitchen, reverberating against the bones and organs in ryomen’s chest and buzzing right though your back. “you’re right i woulda said no as soon as he fuckin’ turned up!” 
two sets of scolding eyes similar in shape, belonging to the two girls he loves the most swivel around to face the pink haired man disapprovingly.
“ryomen sukuna!” 
“daddy!”
“yeah yeah, i know. swear jar.”
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ᯓ★ SUGURU GETO:
“my love, were you aware that our little munchkin has a boyfriend?”
suguru looks up from the bubbling pot of child friendly pasta sauce on the stove. if it were just the two of you having dinner tonight, like it was merely three (nearly four) years ago — he would have planned for a more adventurous meal. perhaps sought out a bottle of fine aged wine for you both to enjoy on the balcony and even gotten a dessert to sweeten the date in. but now, you both had more than two hungry tummies to worry about, and bottles of wine could only be purchased when the little one was off with her uncle satoru.
“no, i wasnt. i don't believe that’s come up in discussion before,” your dark haired lover turns his narrow gaze to the giggly little girl swaddled in your arms — her chubby cheeks and dark, curious eyes just peeking out of the fluffy duck-themed towel you’ve wrapped her in. bath time is usually after bed, but someone got into the paint pots at nursery school and managed to get blotches of blue streaked through her hair and under her fingernails. “care to elaborate sweetheart?”
suguru taps the wooden sauce spoon against the side of the pot and swipes his hands on a nearby tea towel before allowing them to rest on his hips, look of faux irritation settling on the contours of his face and slopes of his features. thin brows draw together like closed gates in the middle of his forehead — the expression earning airy light and squealed laughter from your baby girl.
“nuh uhhh! not my boy-fend!” she babbles her way through the big girl word, missing a few syllables here and there, but geto still grins with pride — happily leaning forward to press enthusiastic kisses to his little angel’s damp forehead. “no boy-fend papa!
bouncing your daughter slightly, you cock your hip out to hold her weight and cheekily roll your eyes. “such a daddy’s girl, lying to him already? he’ll let you get away with anything if you keep that up,”  though you muster up a pout to rival the toddler’s, the uncanny resemblance warming the cockles or your husband’s heart, your tone is playful and adoring — it’s lilt full of love for the baby girl you made together. you pinch her chubby cheek, waggling it from side to side as more of her childlike laughter tangles with the scent of pasta in the air.  “we bumped into the fujioka boy and his mother at the gates this morning, he held her hand all the way up to the classroom. it was quite cute. you had to be there, love.” 
“i’m sure,” he responds, gentle mirth and protectiveness swirling in dark framed eyes.
you relay the information to your husband as though it’s hot gossip fresh from the press, whispering over your dark-haired daughter’s head not so secretly. even with the hair and eyes to match suguru’s, she’s still just as much your carbon copy as she is his — he tends to say all of her spirit comes from you, not to mention the way she laughs and smiles.
shaking her head between you, both — your baby chimes in brightly. “noooo mama!! boys are gross, i don’ hold hands with boys.”
this time suguru manoeuvres to pinch her other chubby cheek, clicking his tongue as he does so. “not even papa?” he pretends to pout, crouching down with his hands on his knees to coo into her sweet little face. 
“nuhhh, papa isn’t gross!! papa is my favourite boy!” she quickly tacks on with a dribbly smile.
“that’s right. i’ll be the only boy in your life always, just you and i princess,” your husband reaffirms with a firm shake of his head and presses a promise in the form of a kiss to your daughter’s nose. her chubby little hands, still wet from bath time, smack either side of suguru’s face and keep him close — close enough for her to plant a soggy smooch onto his forehead affectionately. a wet kiss only a father could love. “that settles it, i’m no longer sharing my kisses. papa says no boyfriends until you’re ninety.”
once your two loves are done sharing their candied affections, you seat your daughter on the edge of the kitchen table to allow geto the room to finish up with dinner. the comforting symphony of baby babbles and kitchen utensils clanking and food boiling fills the steamy air, it makes you smile. it feels like home. “oh come on suguru, they’re only three. don’t you think it’s the tiniest bit adorable?” you say with a sing-songy voice, entertaining both your little one and her father.“they even share their animal crackers during break time and crayons when it’s time to colour, one of the supervisors told me.”
with his back now to you as he stirs through the pasta sauce one final time, you hardly miss the way suguru’s shoulders tense at the mention of the little boy your girl has taken a liking to. he wouldn’t dare frown about it in front of her, what upsets daddy upsets baby too. that’s why he’s always smiling for her, and you find the man’s subtle jealousy endearing. it’s always supposed to be suguru and his princess, with no room for anyone else ( aside from you, of course ) 
“nope, no boyfriends. no amount of cuteness can convince me otherwise.” voice falling tight and flat, suguru reaches into the cupboards for plates and bowls to dish up his lovingly prepared home cooked meal, slamming them into place at the table with a little less patience than before. 
the idea of some… little boy chasing after his daughter’s heart? over his dead body.
“boy-fends are gross!” but your daughter is forever a daddy’s girl, furrowing her brow and crossing her tiny arms in an act of defiance — supporting her papa’s cause. boyfriends are bad! 
fuelling her excitement and even more support for papa — food is served shortly by your husband, who plates up as best as he can with toddler safe dinnerware. you adjust your little girl into her high chair at the table, giggling to yourself softly when she cranes her neck to keep an eye on suguru. “does that mean papa’s gross? he’s technically mama’s boyfriend.”
“husband, love, there’s a difference.” 
three plates of hot, aromatic spaghetti are organised in a table — each a domestic reminder of the family suguru geto has been blessed with. in that moment, he thinks he would be happy if he spent the rest of his life as just the three of you. briefly his mind wonders to setting a fourth place at the table in a decade or so’s time, once his daughter truly is old enough to date. the very thought makes him feel ill. 
round, doe eyes dart between you and suguru as you take your seats either side of your darling daughter at the table — she mimics you both with fumbling little fingers that reach for her baby fork and concentrates as she attempts to repeat your husband’s words. “can i have a husbsband-love?”
you laugh and kiss her cheek, helping her to gather a bite of pasta on the full end of her fork. “husband. just husband, my love. make sure you blow on your food please!” she follows your instructions with a comical air, cheeks puffing and breath huffing while you explain why her father is a second away from blowing his top. “good girl. husband’s aren’t for babies, baby. and i think papa might not like it if you got one now.”
“if you got one ever!” suguru interjects, eyes narrowing while he fights with his lips to avoid a scowl. “the answer is still no, princess. no husbands and no boyfriends until papa is old, cold and in the ground.” 
now that your hands are free, you grab the nearest tea towel and wind it up in your grip — launching its tail end at geto as though to swat at  him. he jumps in surprise and your daughter shrieks in amusement as she begins babbling again. “don worry, papa!. fujioka is  no my boy-fend!!” she says over food in her mouth and happy tummy. geto wipes over her face again. she’ll definitely need another bath later. “hasegawa is!!”
the pair of you share a look and this time, you really think suguru might just throw in the towel. 
how could he compete with pre-school love and paint pots shared over playtime gossip? 
“two boyfriends? oh god, love… i think need some air.”
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.
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dixons-sunshine · 2 days
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So Beautiful | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Daryl had never fully shown you his scars before. He was too afraid of what you might think of him if he did. However, after being together for a while, he decided to finally bite the bullet and show you what he had kept hidden from your view for so long.
Genre: Mostly fluff, some angst if you squint.
Era: Prison, pre season four, post season three.
Warnings: Swearing, Daryl is insecure in this (I wanna hold him and reassure him that everything is okay), mentions of past abuse.
Word count: 1.5k.
A/N: This was meant to be a drabble, but it ran away from me lol. I hope y’all like this!
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Daryl was breathing heavily. His chest was rising and falling quickly as he tried to control his breathing and ease his anxiety. It wasn’t the first time someone had seen his scars, he tried to remind himself. Carol had seen them. Merle had seen them. Hershel had seen them. It wasn’t like nobody knew of them, but he knew that this time was different.
This wasn’t some random person that had to patch up some injury he had sustained. This was you. His partner. The one he cared for deeply, on a whole other level than he did others, on a level that the archer was sure was love. The one he could see himself spending the rest of his life with, however short that might be. That made you different from the rest. You were so vastly different.
Talks of the abuse the archer had endured had come up from time to time, but only on Daryl’s terms. You never pressed to hear more about his childhood, knowing that Daryl would tell you on his own time if he wanted you to know. And sure enough, slowly but surely, over the months the two of you had been together ‘officially’, Daryl had slowly started opening up to you. However, he had never shown you the scars on his back before. He had allowed you to patch up a wound on his chest before, and that had been the most you had gotten to physically see of the cruel pain that had been inflicted on him in his life.
Until now.
The scars on Daryl’s back were on full display for your eyes to see as he sat on the edge of the bed in your shared cell with him. With his back turned to you, he didn’t have to witness the reaction you would give him. He feared a disgusted reaction, a sharp intake of breath as you fully gouged the extent of the pain he had endured that were gruesomely carved into his skin, a permanent, cruel reminder of his father’s abuse. He feared that you would shrink away from him, that you would see him like the worthless piece of garbage most people in his life had viewed him as, like he viewed himself as most times. And the worst part was that he wouldn’t even blame you if you did.
However, he had not expected to hear your voice calling out to him, that usual softness and love he always associated with your beautiful voice as present as ever.
“Is it okay if I touch them?” you asked him softly, your tone of voice gentle and sincere. You weren’t pressing, weren’t insisting on touching them. You were simply asking, and you would be completely okay with it if he said no.
Daryl did not turn his head to look at you, too nervous to do so just yet. However, after a few beats of silence and contemplation, Daryl hesitantly nodded his head. He anxiously awaited the soft touch of your fingers, but they never came. Instead, Daryl felt a soft, tender prodding from something soft against the highest scar on his back, a slight wetness being left in its wake. As the prodding slowly trailed down the scar and onto the next one, he quickly figured out that the soft prodding was caused by your slightly chapped lips.
Daryl sighed quietly at the oddly comforting feeling, an involuntary shiver rolling over his spine. He closed his eyes, relishing in the comfort your actions were bringing him. Slowly but surely, as your kisses trailed over each scar on his back, his initial uneasiness started fading away, instead being replaced by a sense of contentment and love, all thanks to you.
As you placed a final kiss to the lowest scar on his back, you raised up from the bed and moved to stand in front of him. Daryl ducked his gaze down to the floor beneath him, suddenly feeling nervous all over again, but you didn’t allow him to do so. You gingerly took a hold of his chin with your forefinger and thumb, and you gently tipped his head up, making him look at you.
Looking deeply into the eyes of the man you loved most, you sent him a small, soft, reassuring smile. “You’re so beautiful, Dar.”
Daryl scoffed at your words. “Ain’t beautiful,” he denied your statement. However, he couldn’t help the way his heart fluttered at your words. He had never been called beautiful before. He had always considered it to be a feminine compliment, a compliment reserved only for women, a compliment he reserved only for you. So why his heart started beating faster and his cheeks started burning at your compliment, he didn’t know.
You laughed softly at his denial, shaking your head as if he had said the most absurd thing humanly possible. And to you, he had. It broke your heart that the man in front of you could not see himself the way you saw him: loyal, fierce, kind, unendingly fucking beautiful. There were so many other things that could describe the archer, and almost none of them were negative. Sure, everyone had their flaws, and there was no denying that Daryl had his flaws as well, but they were part of what made him Daryl. They made him the man you loved, and there was little that you wanted to change about him.
Except the way he isolated himself when it mattered most to talk to people, and the way he viewed himself, but other than that, he was perfect.
“Well, you’re beautiful to me, Dar,” you told him, your hand moving from under his chin to cup his cheeks instead. You rubbed soothing circles over the stubbled skin of his face with your thumb, your eyes looking deeply into the ocean-coloured ones of your partner. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t they say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder? Well, I’m the beholder, and this beholder is telling you that you’re fucking gorgeous.”
Your other hand came up to his chest, your fingers gingerly tracing over one of the jagged marks on his broad frame. “These don’t take away from the way I see you, Dar. If anything, it makes my view of you even better. All this shows me is that life threw you a lot of fucking curve balls before all of this, and you prevailed. Do you know how strong that makes you? How brave?” You shook your head with a huff of laughter, the sound one of wonder. “God, I can’t even begin to explain how much these don’t deter me at all. They’re relics of a time in your life you overcame, a time in your life I see you trying not to let define your present and future. If that’s not the epitome of strength, I don’t know what is.”
Daryl was rendered absolutely speechless. You truly believed that of him? All of that? You couldn’t, could you? Unwillingly, a lump formed in the archer’s throat. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He couldn’t believe that you thought so highly of him, even after he showed you what he considered the ugliest part of him, physically speaking. However, his heart swelled at the knowledge that you did not view him any differently than you had before. You still looked at him with such love, a love he oftentimes felt he didn’t deserve, but he definitely was not about to throw it away, either.
“Thanks,” Daryl mumbled awkwardly at your high praise of him. He did not know what else to say. He wanted to say so many things to show how much he appreciated your words, how much he appreciated you, but he just did not know how.
You smiled at the singular word that left your partner’s mouth. It was so simple, so underwhelming, so undeniably Daryl. To most people, that simple response would be a punch to the gut after such a heartfelt confession, but to you, the response was enough. Daryl was a man of action, not a man of words. He showed his appreciation to your declaration in the form of his hands coming to rest and your hips, slightly tugging you forward to stand closer to him, albeit in-between his legs. He also showed it in the way his eyes sparkled up at you, the emotions swirling around in his beautiful irises conveying more than words ever could.
“Of course,” you replied softly to his thanks, your hand trailing up from his bare chest, up his face and to his hair. Your fingers ran through his brown locks, gently untangling any knots in their wake. “You have no idea how amazing you are to me, Daryl Dixon, but I promise, for as long as you’ll have me, I’ll never stop trying to show you.”
Daryl’s heart both sped up and stopped simultaneously. Your admission made the archer want to cling on to you and never let you go. He had wanted something, someone like that his whole life. Someone who could look past everything and still love him unconditionally. And he had found it. He had found you, and he certainly did not intend to ever let you slip through his fingers.
“Guess yer gon’ be stuck with me forever, then,” Daryl said in his gruff tone of voice, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
A small chuckle escaped your chest. “I really don’t mind the sound of that.”
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Slow-Burn Confession
Summary: a fic that I wrote for the request (see my previous post). In short, both Nanami and reader are IN LOVE but have no idea how to confess and/or act around each other. "A toothrotting fluff" (c) ehehehehehehhehehehe
Characters: Nanami Kento x reader
Word count: 3.3K
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Nanami was absolutely fazed.
Throughout the years of working in Jujutsu Tech, the idea of falling in love with someone from the college has never crossed his mind. It’s not that he proclaimed celibacy and followed it: in fact, he had his fair share of hookups. But unlike Gojo or Geto, he never walked around bragging about them, so people naturally thought that romance was completely irrelevant for Nanami Kento.
He thought so too — until you appeared in his life.
He remembered that day all too well: how you stepped in front of everyone, sunlight caught in your hair, and announced that you are a transfer from Kyoto and will be working with Tokyo colleagues from now on. Of course, Gojo was the first to greet you. The white-haired idiot straight up approached you and hooked his arm around your shoulders casually. That’s when Nanami saw it: a small smirk of disapproval and a hint of irritation in your beautiful eyes. Without realizing it, Nanami sighed in relief: Gojo’s charms did not seem to work on you.
Wait, why did he even care?
Since that day, everything has changed for Nanami Kento. He has never been in love, but he became literally obsessed with you — and he was determined to figure his way out through the intricacies of love and to win your heart over.
The thing is… 
He had absolutely zero idea how to do it.
~~~
As you climbed the stairs of college, you were wrapping yourself in a huge knit scarf. The autumn was unusually cold so you required an extra layer of clothes when going to work. Busy untangling the scarf, you didn’t watch your step and bumped into a familiar tall figure.
Nanami’s perfume, an infatuating mix of wood, bergamot and vanilla, hugged you like a blanket. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a second and savoring just how perfect this man smelled. And then you lifted your eyes and met the steady gaze of his brown eyes.
His expression was unreadable and even scary. His sharp features and piercing eyes always made you feel smaller and more vulnerable — though you were a Grade 1, thank you very much. Also, you were helplessly in love with this man, and that made the whole situation so much worse.
“Nanami? I doubt he even knows what’s love”, Shoko let out a hearty cigarette puff when you asked her once about Nanami.
“Whaaaaat? This guy only knows work and drinking. Sometimes, cooking. Romance is not for him, babes”, Gojo rolled his eyes and made a face.
“Nanami is a very reliable man but I doubt he is interested in finding a romantic partner”, Geto said sympathetically. 
That was it. Everyone confirmed that Nanami Kento was the worst possible choice to fall in love with. But you just couldn’t help it (and frankly, didn’t want to fix the situation). Every time you managed to steal a glance at him, something hot, unfamiliar, and fuzzy started tossing in your chest. You craved his touch or at least attention — but he was way too scary and unapproachable to even try. And the way he acted around you: it was more than obvious that he saw you just as another colleague. Nothing more than that.
As you met his gaze, you just stood on the stairs, your lips parted slightly and your eyes opened wide in surprise. His expression remained unreadable, but then he jerked his hand suddenly — and you both stared at a rather huge coffee stain on your beige coat.
“Oh”. That’s all you managed to say.
Nanami’s face grew bright red and his expression became somewhat scary. You involuntarily took a tiny step back, as he reached out his hand and tried to grab your coat.
“I… let me fix this”, he mumbled, looking everywhere but in your eyes.
“Do I annoy him so much that he can’t even look at me?”, that was your thought as you just stood there in one place, with his hand clinging onto your sleeve.
“Yo, Nanami! Undressing a girl right in the street? Way to go!”, Gojo’s voice from somewhere behind carried a healthy dose of mockery, and Nanami’s face grew even hotter.
“Shit, shit, shit!”, he thought frantically, still unable to let go your coat. He just wanted to help untangle your stupid huge scarf, but it seemed like his body started acting on its own in your presence. Now he was standing there like an idiot, got your coat dirty and worst of all, made a fool of himself in front of you (and apparently, Gojo).
“Let’s just get inside”, you proposed quietly, trying not to look at his fingers and trying not to imagine how his hand would look on your neck. Or on your waist. Or in your hair. Dammit.
He nodded way too quickly and finally let go of your coat. “I’ll pay for the dry cleaning”, he said in a weird voice and started walking without looking at you.
You just sighed and followed him. Seemed like you’d spend another day dreaming about this man finally looking you in the eyes and making the move.
~~~
After the morning incident, Nanami just could. not. focus. He had no idea how to approach you now. He also could not stop thinking about how he almost touched the skin of your wrist when grabbing your coat. The thought sent shivers down his spine and caused pleasant and exciting tingling in his chest.
You just got him in a chokehold.
He spent a few hours deep in thought but did not come up with any plan. As he finally worked up the courage to come to you, he found out that you were already sent on a field trip with the students. And obviously, you took your stained coat with you.
Nanami groaned quietly, returning to his desk. 
Just how on Earth do people confess to each other?!
~~~
When you got to work the next day, you saw a box on your table. The box looked quite presentable: in delicate pastel colors and with simple yet pleasing patterns. There was also something atop of the box: some money and a note that said “for the cleaning”. No signature or something else: just dry information. How Nanami-like.
You were more intrigued by the box though. After quickly shoving the money in the pocket, you opened the cover and an overwhelming and warm smell of cookies filled the room.
There was a whole assortment: chocolate, lemon, and even coffee cookies. Each one of them looked perfect, surely straight out of an expensive bakery.
“Woah, cookies? Who’d get you these?”, Gojo appeared out of nowhere, trying to reach for the box. You immediately closed the cover shut, preventing the heist attempt.
“I don’t know”, you lied, knowing damn well Kento got these for you. “But I need to find out what bakery they are from. I haven’t seen any sweet looking so ridiculously good”.
Nanami who just happened to pass your desk, perked his ears at your words immediately. You caught his gaze and smiled warmly, “Um, thanks for… everything. Where did you get these cookies from? I might become a regular customer”.
He opened his mouth and shut it immediately. “Then you’ll have to move in with me”, were the words he wanted to say but never in his life he’d admit that he spent the whole night backing these cookies for you. He’d also never admit that he imagined feeding you with a cookie, collecting crumbs from your lips with his own lips and covering your mouth in a sweet deep kiss while leaning you onto his kitchen counter…
“Shit!”
Kento shook his head in irritation and glared at you, involuntarily allowing you to catch this slight hint of his annoyance. He didn’t think you’d take it personally: he was mad at himself for being so sappy around you. But you couldn’t have known it, obviously. So instead of admitting his feelings, he just mumbled something and paced away, his usual composure and confidence radiating while his head was a wild mess of emotions and thoughts. 
And while you watched him go, your heart aching in an unusual manner, Gojo managed to steal a cookie and laughed diabolically, shoving the whole stuff in his mouth.
“Dat stuff’s good”, he mumbled. “Tastes like homemade ones”.
“Homemade? Nah, can’t be true. Kento would never…”, you thought, wishing desperately for these cookies to really be homemade ones. 
With a sigh, you took one and tasted it. As expected, it was out of this world.
Just like damned Nanami Kento.
~~~
Since then, you haven’t seen him around for almost a week. While your eyes were desperately searching for him in the crowd, Kento was nowhere to be found. Finally, you went straight up to Shoko who never made fun of you and was as supportive as possible for a person who spent a couple of years with Gojo and Geto.
“Oh, Kento is home, recovering from an injury after the mission. No biggie”, Shoko just casually dropped, 
An injury, huh?
“It’s now or never”, you said to yourself while taking a taxi after work and carrying a box of sweets in your lap. “After all, I can visit a colleague and check up on him. Right?”
The taxi driver caught your gaze in the rear mirror and grinned, as if reading your thoughts. Your cheeks grew hot and you looked in the window, trying to focus on anything but the thoughts in your head.
~~~
The sound of the doorbell was unexpected, to say at least. Nanami heard it while lying in bed, reading a book and trying to distract himself from the annoying pain in his shoulder. The wound hurt like hell for the first couple days but it got much better. Still, Shoko insisted he’d stay at home and even Yaga chimed in, basically forcing Nanami to take a few more days off.
When hearing the doorbell, he raised a brow in surprise and reluctantly got out of bed. At first, he thought of putting on something more presentable than a pair of grey sweatpants and a blue shirt, but honestly, the illness got the best of him and he decided he didn’t really care. It was probably a delivery he forgot about, so his home clothing was more than enough to deal with another overly enthusiastic teenager with a pizza box.
The door swung open and he froze in place.
“You?!”
As he opened the door and you met his direct gaze, you felt pinned to the ground. The sight of Nanami in his sweatpants and loose shirt stirred something primal and uncontrollable in you. You gulped loudly and felt your face growing insanely hot.
“I erm… I wanted to check up on you..”
As you spoke, you took an awkward step forward and obviously stumbled. He instinctively caught you, his strong arms wrapping around you and instantly flaring up a wildfire in his chest. He was about to say something…. but then he looked down.
“Oh”.
A box of sweets that you’ve been holding was smashed between you two, cream and jam all over his shirt and your much-suffering coat. Your face grew bright red and you tried to pull away but his hands were holding you in one place firmly, not letting you move even an inch. Only after a few moments, he lifted one hand slowly, delicately putting his fingers on your cheek and wiping cream off it. Holding your gaze, he put his fingers to his lips and licked the cream carefully, a tiny smile tugging the corners of his mouth.
“Vanilla, huh, Good choice”, he said expertly, still holding you.
“How are you feeling?”, you asked in a tiny voice, kind of traumatized by your close proximity. His body was so insanely hot in all senses and the way his was holding you… 
You shifted a bit and suddenly felt it. Your eyes darted a glance below and he immediately released you, taking a step back.
“Much better now, thanks”, he couched, quickly turning around and gesturing for you to come in. “Did you come for anything specific or?...”
You instantly scolded yourself for the visit. Of course he wouldnt’ have expected you: he probably didn’t even think of you.
“I just wanted to check on you”, you mumbled in a weak voice, pulling away slowly. “Shoko told me you were injured”.
“It’s nothing”, he echoed, his eyes basically glued to you. “Wanna come in?”
Even if the Earth stopped spinning in space you’d be less surprised. “Come in like… in your house?”
In his head, Nanami groaned. Why did he even think you’d like to come in? You probably just stopped by with this stupid box. It was probably Shoko’s idea after all. Like he had any chance for your attention…
“If you don’t want to, it’s…”
“No, I want”, you stepped in confidently, leaving the remains of sweets on the ground in front of the porch (“will throw it away on my way back”).
Nanami’s brows raised in a mix of surprise and relief. You wanted to come in, that was good. Meaning his presence may even be pleasant for you. That’a s good start, right?
As you stepped in, you looked around, studying his place. As expected, it was neat yet surprisingly cozy. All his belongings basically radiated Nanami’s aura of peace and comfort. You spotted hell lots of books, a few candles here and there, and several intricate works of art on the walls. Overall, it felt oddly like… home.
Behind your back, Nanami coughed. “Would you like tea or coffee?”
“Coffee, please”, you turned around, and he couldn’t help but flicker in awe. You looked so natural in his apartment. As if you lived here with him for a few years to say at least. He desperately wanted to come close to you and kiss you but instead, turned and headed for the kitchen, cursing himself for looking so unpresentable.
As you watched him go, you felt your face going red again. Kento’s loose shirt and sweatpants showed off his perfect physique of a damn Greek God. And if before that evening you were mostly interested in him as a person, now you simply felt like a feral monster who hadn’t seen a man in forever. You whimpered quietly and followed him to the kitchen, having absolutely no idea what to do or how to act.
From his part, Nanami also had absolutely fucking no idea what to do next. The very thought of you being in his house this late at night — that was something Kento had never expected. Yet, here you were, following him to his kitchen and looking too damn cute with your hair fuzzy from the wind outside and with this hint of pink on your cheeks. More than everything he’d love to pull you close and never let go but went to the coffee machine instead. After all, he promised you some.
“I like your place”, you finally said, breaking the silence. “It’s very… cozy”. 
He hummed in agreement, busy with the coffee and the cups. “Thanks. It took me quite some time to arrange everything to my liking, sugar”.
You blinked in surprise. “Huh?”
Kento looked back at you, his face going red. He picked up a sugar bowl from the counter and repeated, “Would you like some sugar?”
“Oh my god, I’m so dumb”, you muttered. “Two, please”.
He pretended not to hear what you just said but noticed the way you reacted to his words.
“Could it be?...”
All events and the tension of the past few months since you met just exploded in his brain, pushing him to the limit of self-control. At that very point, Nanami Kento gave in to the reckless abandon and decided to test the waters. 
“Fuck it”.
He handed you the coffee cup, his fingers obviously brushing against yours. As you savored this faint touch, you looked up and met his direct and piercing gaze. It wasn’t the gaze that you were used to see. It was something brand new. Something both alluring and frightening. Something that made your knees weak.
Kento took a small step towards you, his mind going blank. The world around suddenly stopped existing and he didn’t give a shit about anything right now. His eyes were locked on your face, and he took another small step forward. And another.
As he approached, you just stood frozen in one place, completely dumbfounded. Nanami Kento, the infamous stoic sorcerer with no love life (according to the colleagues), was coming up to you in his damned grey sweatpants, looking like he was about to devour you whole. You wanted to say something, ask him what’s going on or simply object against such straightforwardness — and then you felt the tight grip of his hand in your hair as he pulled you close till your lips crashed in his.
With one hand locked on your hair, his other hand gripped your waist, moulding your body into his. He kissed you so hungrily as if he had been hiding that starvation for too long and now, finally, he had you in his arms. Your hands shot up, one arm around his neck and the other tangled securely in his blonde locks. As his tongue was exploring your mouth deeply and hungrily, you let out a soft gasp, his name rolling off your tongue like a prayer.
“Kento…”
He pulled back a bit, lips swollen and eyes glowing with a dangerous gleam.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You gulped nervously and finally asked the question that’s been haunting you for all this time.
“So can I… assume you like me too?’’
You expected anything, honestly. That he’d frown and say something like “it’s too early to discuss things like that”. Or that he’d say he was interested in sex only. 
Instead, Nanami laughed.
He laughed openly, his eyes now full of weird happiness. You were completely taken aback by his reaction, but he didn’t give you an opportunity to pull away. Keeping you in one place with his arms, he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, grinning against your skin.
“I don’t like you. I love you, sweetheart”, he muttered in rasped voice. “I love you so fucking much, you have no idea”.
And that was it. His words broke through the dam and you giggled too, following his laughter. It was the laugh of relief, of finally letting go of all the tension and uncertainty between you two. Still laughing softly, he scooped you up and headed for his bedroom in long confident stride, shaking his head in amusement.
“Kento”, you called him quietly, still not quite believing it was happening and resting your head against his chest as he walked.
“Hmmm?”, he looked down on you, a smile curving his lips.
“Can you… put a tie on?”
He let out a bark of laughter and nodded, his eyes gleaming mischievously.
“Your wish is my command, love. But be prepared that this tie is gonna move from my neck to your pretty wrists in no time”.
Nanami looked you in the eyes, his gaze full of adoration and love. And that was the moment you knew.
“I’m stuck with you, huh?”, you asked softly with a smile.
“Forever, sweetheart”, he confifmed, kissing your hair and laying you on the bed gently. “Now gimme a second to put on the damn tie and I’m all yours”.
You giggled happily at his words, watching him rummaging the closet. 
Everything was just perfect.
And in about one minute after the tie was found, perfect became even better. Side note: you never knew you could be that loud.
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yoshhii · 2 days
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tw: abuse/controlling themes .ᐟ
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IT FELT LIKE ONLY YESTERDAY WHEN THE TWO OF YOU FIRST CONFESSED. he had taken you to a park near a lake, where cherry blossom petals floated through the air, carried by the gentle breeze. the setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, casting a warm light over everything. you both stood beneath the blooming trees, gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes.
slowly he raised his right hand and gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your soft skin. you knew exactly what he wanted, and without hesitation, you closed your eyes, and leaned forward.
when your lips finally met, it felt like the world around you faded into the background, leaving only the two of you. the kiss was soft and sweet, full of the unspoken feelings you had both been holding back for so long. as his lips left yours, you opened your eyes to find a gentle smile on his face.
this was the moment you had been waiting for, the one you had imagined countless times. after all the teasing, the lingering touches, and the stolen glances, you had finally shared your first kiss. his soft chuckle broke the silence, he opened his mouth and finally said the words he’d been holding back to speak.
“i love you, (y/n).”
you couldn’t help but smile as his cheeks flushed a deep red, his gaze dropping shyly to the ground. it was obvious he was embarrassed to say it, and that only made the moment sweeter.
with a warmth blooming in your chest, you opened your mouth, your voice calm and sweet.
“i love you too.”
but that was only a longing memory.
everything felt easy then, simple, carefree. his love was a bright, something that made you feel safe.
but over time, the warmth in his voice faded. it wasn’t noticeable at first—the way he would always ask where you were going, who you were with, what time you should be home. he framed it as concern, his eyes soft, his words still loving. you told yourself it was just because he cared. because who wouldn’t look out for the one you love, right?
only then did his “concern” grew sharper, his tone more insistent. he started waiting for you if you stayed out late, calling your phone multiple times, asking why you haven’t called as soon as you left your friends.
“ i don’t understand, they’re just my friends and i don’t hang out with them as much as i used too. they’ll help me out if i’m in danger, what’s the harm in that?” you tried argue.
his angry demeanor quickly turned into an unreadable one.
“i just worry about you, that’s all,” he said pulling you into his arms. but there was a tension in the way he held you, a possessiveness that made your stomach twist.
“i’m fine,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure if you were convincing him or yourself.
you pressed your back against the cold brick wall of the alley, trying to steady your ragged breaths, but all you could hear was the pounding of your heart, echoing in the narrow space like a drumbeat of panic.
you messed up…
you were done with him, done with his possessiveness, his suffocating control.
so you ran, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he would let you go. but you knew better. he would never leave you alone. he had killed your friends to prove that point, tearing them from you because they dared to help. that monster took them because you had tried to escape.
the sounds of footsteps broke your train of thoughts.
no...
there was no way it could be him. you had ran for hours, weaving through streets, slipping into corners. how could he find you now?
“there’s no point in running dear…” his chilling voice cut through the silence.
your blood turned to ice. panic surged through your veins. you had to keep moving there was no one here to help you, no one to hear you scream. you had no one to rely on but yourself. with a desperate gasp, you turned and bolted further into the alley, darting around corners in a frantic attempt to lose him.
you were quick, but he was quicker.
suddenly a hand harshly yanked your hair, you let out a yelp and desperately clawed at his hands but his grip only got tighter. you could only scream and beg for him
to let you go. but that only seemed to amuse him.
with a swift motion he pulled your head back, forcing you to look up at him.
“shhhhh we wouldn’t want to bring any unwanted attention now do we?” his eyes were darker now, colder. the man you used to know seemed so far away.
“let’s get you back home now, do you know how dangerous it is for you to be alone at this time of night?” he said it as if he was mocking you, daring you to try and run again.
he let go of your hair and took a few steps back, watching you with that same unreadable expression. your legs gave out beneath you, and you crumpled to the ground. you couldn't go back, locked up in his house, in his room, playing by his rules.
you slowly felt tears form in your eyes, threatening to fall against your cheek.
“why….” you started, voice barely above a whisper,
“why are you doing this…?”
a cruel smile spreaded across his lips, slowly walking back towards you.
“don’t you see (y/n) i do this to protect you away from the outside dangers, i do this so that you’re safe, and i do it because…”
he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear. “i love you,” his voice cold as ice, it sent a shiver down your spine not from affection, but from fear.
katsuki bakugo, dabi, tomura shigaraki, overhaul, shinshou, monoma, dio, kira yoshikage, pucci, funny valentine, diavolo/doppio, bruno bucciarati, abbacchio, joseph joestar, rohan, kaeya, diluc, childe, ayato, alhaithem, lyney, neuvillette, heizou + whoever you think fits !
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skrrts · 3 days
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mountains need hugs too (drabble)
✧ choi san x gn!reader ✧ genre: non idol, slice of life, fluff, you comfort him, his pov ✧ word count: 580 ✧ warnings: feeling sad but not knowing why
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Choi San was sure he was one of the luckiest people. He had grown up in a loving family, with amazing parents and an older sister. He had a stable circle of friends, the most amazing best friend, and you. His job was fun, and money was a struggle but never tight. Yes, his life was good, it truly was but sometimes, this wave of fear washed over him. His heart grew heavy and San did not know why.
This was meant to be a perfect evening but not even the shower could help to wash away the heavy feeling from his heart. Then, there was you, who always noticed it right away. San just pulled over the big fluffy hoodie you got him last birthday when you looked at him. It was like you could read his mind.
There were no questions, no trying to figure out what was wrong, because you just knew he had those moments but eventually, they'd pass. Sometimes, San who was always smiling and cheerful, trying his best to take care of everyone, was the one who needed some recharge. Yet, he could not stop himself from looking at you fondly, although there was no denial the smile on his lips carried a hint of sadness.
"I love you;" he whispered when your hands were placed on his cheek and he puffed them up, making you laugh. "I love you too, Sannie. You know, like that, you look like a big fluffy bear."
His strong arms curled around your figure, pulling you closer.
Hearing those words always made him feel better instantly. Your hand was rubbing gently over his back. You were warm and soft and like a huge pillow or a plushie, you always had been this comfort for him and it was nice, knowing he could let loose like that without having to explain or making you too worried because you just knew him so well.
It would pass and then, things would be as always.
It was hard to tell for how long you two stood there like this before he finally let out that small sigh you must have waited for.
Your pretty eyes looked at him, making sure he was content before you shook your head.
"I feel like it's time for some midnight snack. I bought a few things you like, let's make sure you get something in your stomach," you announced all comfortably, making him blush as he followed you, throwing a glance at the clock.
"Isn't it.,.. a little too late for this," he whispered but you just chuckled.
"Is it? I do not think a good meal has a time limit and you know, happiness and love go through the stomach or however that saying goes."
San loved you, how you knew him so well, how you made sure he could feel like himself no matter what was going on and gave him a happy place, a home that was loving and honest. With you, he had this relationship he always dreamt of, one like his parents had.
"If you insist," he replied with a cute pout and you poked his cheek again, making him smile.
"Do you want to help me?" You asked, already preparing everything. He lurked over his shoulder, almost hitting his head on the cupboard. Blinking he took out the bowls but smiled when he heard you chuckle about his little clumsy moment.
He really was happy. And lucky. And thankful. With you.
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Soaked (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Reader pt 8)
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Hello, my lovelies! Sorry this took forever to write and post but I’ve been very busy with real life (ew) and I’m actually posting this while I’m on vacation. I wrote it on the plane and am posting in the car so please be kind if you see any mistakes hehe 😉
Benny x Bunny Masterlist
Word Count- 4.7k+
Summary- Benny’s never wanted anything as much as he wants to marry you, but with such different lives, you’re not so sure it will be as easy as he claims.
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You felt the wind surge around you as Benny accelerated down the main road, his motorcycle roaring beneath you both. The world blurred past in a whirlwind of colors, but all you could focus on was the way your heart lifted, how a thrill of excitement shot through you as you zoomed past the rest of the gang. He did it just because he knew it’d make you giggle. And you did, the sound escaping you in a way that felt so carefree, so full of joy especially as you shot past Johnny and the others, leaving them in your dirt.
The wind was relentless, blowing your hair out of its carefully manicured braid, but you didn’t find yourself caring much anymore. The days spent with Benny had a way of shifting everything you thought had mattered. The things that once held so much weight – social status, gossip, public appearances – no longer seemed as important anymore. With Benny, it was almost like discovering a whole new world. No, not a new world. The same streets passed beneath the tires, the same faces you once worried about still existed. The world was still the same, but it was how he viewed it that felt so different. He didn’t care what others thought about him, didn’t pay attention to their expectations. He lived in his own world, surrounded by others like him that didn’t conform to the societal molds – people that you wouldn’t have even approached just based on their appearance. You never considered yourself a very judgemental person, but because of Benny, you have met and befriended people you could have never imagined.
That’s one of the things you loved about Benny. He wasn’t like anyone you had ever met before. He was different. And you were beginning to love that too.
He pulled off the main road, stopping in his signature spot in front of the club house. The roar of the rest of the gang pulling up sounded in the distance as Benny helped you off the bike. He held his grip on your hand, lacing his own fingers through yours as he pulled you gently into the bar. You followed him inside where the Vandals’ laughter and chatter soon filled the air. A familiar buzz of camaraderie enveloped the place, and before long, you found yourself seated around the table with a few of the core members. Benny was close – as always – with his arm draped over your shoulder.
“Hey, Bunny,” Cockroach’s voice cut through the sea of noise as he leaned forward and used his beer bottle to point at you. “When are you finally gonna say yes to our boy Benny, here?”
You stiffened slightly, the weight of the question hanging in the air and drawing the attention of the others at the table.
“Oh yeah,” Corky piped up, one eyebrow playfully cocked in a challenge. “He’s been asking, what, 100 times now? What’s the holdup? He’s not getting any younger, ya know?”
Heat filled your face at their teasing. Though Corky’s words were a bit of an exaggeration, they weren’t technically wrong. Since your kiss behind the clubhouse, Benny has asked you to marry him almost every day, sometimes more than once in a day. It had started by him mentioning married life in casual conversation, and you jokingly pointed out that he hadn’t actually proposed to begin with – not traditionally. And you were shocked to see him abandon everything he was doing in the moment to ask you to marry him. You giggled and rolled your eyes at his dramatics, but something deeper inside you caused your heart to flutter nervously. Since then, he’s asked several times, some in passing, a casual remark slipped into the conversation. Other times, he’d pause what he was doing, drop to one knee and grin up at you as if he were waiting for you to give in. But each time you’d laugh it off, brush it aside as him being unserious.
“Maybe I’m just waiting for the right moment?” you replied as you timidly played with the chain of your necklace, trying to deflect the attention.
“The right moment?” Cockroach parroted in disbelief. “He’s been proposin’ left and right for a week. Hell, I’d have said yes after the first time if it were me!”
The group laughed, and you tensed under Benny’s arm, wanting to melt into the floor from embarrassment. Benny squeezed your hand reassuringly, and he leaned, his voice dropping to a low murmur that was only meant for you, “They don’t mean nothin’ by that, you know that.”
You nodded, not trusting your own voice. He was right, you knew that. They didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but the constant razzing – especially with this particular subject – was start to weigh on you.
“Yeah, c’mon, Bunny,” Cal chimed in from across the way, “What’s it gonna take? Benny’s a catch! He’s got the bike, the looks, the . . . mommy’s issues. If you don’t say yes soon, you might lose your chance.”
That playful jab was too much for Benny who stiffened next to you. You expected him to get angry, to blow up like you had seen your father do when he was upset. But instead, Benny leaned forward, eyes narrowing with a playful glint that you had come to adore. The table was buzzing with laughter, but he wasn’t about to let the spotlight stay on you for too long. Without missing a beat, he flashed a grin at Corky, his hand raised as he said, “Alright, alright. But let’s not pretend you all ain’t desperate for a distraction since none of you can keep a bike upright without fallin’ on your asses.”
The table roared with laughter and Corky’s mouth fell open in mock offense. “That was one time! And I had an oil slick!”
Johnny immediately jumped in, “Yeah Corky, an oil slick you created when your bike was leakin’ everywhere.”
Laughter erupted again and you shot Benny a grateful look as the guys started ribbing Corky about his infamous fall. Benny’s eyes met yours briefly, his thumb brushing your hand under the table in a silent message: I’ve got you. Most of the group knew you were shy and did not appreciate being the center of attention in a crowd, and they respected that. However, there were a few class clowns (as Benny called them) who loved to tease you, knowing it could get a reaction without fail. But Benny never let it go on for long, always shutting them down when he recognized your discomfort.
They’ve never teased you about marriage though. You had to wonder if Benny had voiced his irritation to them at some point or if they had picked up on your hesitation organically. Either way, it left you feeling bad. Excusing yourself, you wiggled out of Benny’s grasp as you stood and made your way for the restroom, needing a moment to breathe, to clear your head. But just as you reached the back of the bar, a voice stopped you.
“You ain’t gotta worry about what they say to you,” Funny Sonny stood leaning casually against the bar top as he sipped a glass of whiskey. “That just means they like you, accept you.”
You paused, glancing over your shoulder at the table of rowdy bikers. “I’m just not . . . used to it. All the teasin’.”
Sonny nodded, his disheveled hair falling into his eyes as he grinned. “You’ll get used to it. Won’t be long till you’re the one throwing out the first jabs.”
He said it so nonchalantly, as if it were the most obvious course of action, as if you weren’t from completely different worlds. You furrowed your brows, eyes casting downwards as you admitted, “I’m not so sure about that. I’m not at all like you guys.”
“You don’t gotta be like us to be with us. We’re family here and family means lookin’ out for each other, even the ones who came from different backgrounds,” he said, his voice lowering a register to a bit more of a serious tone.
His words settled over you like a warm blanket, the concept so foreign yet so familiar. Family. You knew what that was, you had one, you were loved by one. But for some reason, it felt like it meant something different with the Vandals. They chose their family, stood by them despite no blood relation. Your parents loved you, you knew that. They showed it in their own ways every day. But by default, they had to love you. With the Vandals, they chose to care for each other, chose to look out for each other. In a way, it almost seemed more powerful, more profound.
Being Benny’s girl didn’t just mean he alone had your best interest at heart. It also meant having the rest of the Vandals on your side too, all of them looking out for you. You weren’t sure if you’ve ever experienced such an intense loyalty before, even from blood relatives. And it left you with a warm feeling in your chest.
When you returned to the table, Benny was already standing as if he were waiting for you. His eyes met yours with a slight unease, almost like he thought you wouldn’t come back, like he thought you were so upset that you’d sneak out the backdoor.
“Wanna go for a night ride?” he asked, his voice soft as his hand extended out for you.
Your heart squeezed at his thoughtfulness. He knew how much you were growing to enjoy the feeling of blazing down the empty streets under a star-filled sky with him. A smile tugged at your lips, and you took his hand without hesitation, nodding.
You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips as your hand slid into his own. You were vaguely aware of the groans and exaggerated protests from the table about the night being still young, but you didn’t hesitate to follow Benny as he led you to the door. He pulled you along to his Harley, the cool and fresh air a welcome change.
The tension from earlier still lingered as Benny’s hand touched your leg, helping you onto the back of the bike. You wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your face into his back, finding solace in the familiar scent from his jacket.
He drove you around the city, stars and stop lights shining above, engine roaring below. He eventually pulled off the main drag, heading down a quieter road that led out of town. The blacktop blurred beneath you as he slowed the speed to more of a lazy joyride. He took a familiar turn, stopping at the small pull off area before a bridge. The sound of the engine faded as he brought the bike to a stop, the air filling with crickets’ song. The night’s air was breezy, but a welcome change from the hot, loud atmosphere of the clubhouse.
Benny dismounted first, reaching out to help you down. His touch – lingering longer than necessary – against your arm felt electric, sending a jolt of butterflies to your stomach, his eyes searching your face as if he was trying to read your thoughts. The two of you walked over the concrete bridge, pausing once in the middle. You leaned over the railing, getting lost in the gentle swirl of the water below. But Benny was lost in the sight of you.
“You alright?” he asked, his voice low, the usual playful teasing replaced by something softer and reserved only for you.
With your heart beating hard at his gentle tone, you nodded. “I’m fine.”
He frowned, reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair from your face. “I know the guys can be a bit much. I don’t like when they tease you like that. I didn’t mean for them to make you uncomfortable.”
You couldn’t help but smile a bit at his words, knowing that wanting to protect you was something he took very seriously, even if it meant from his own friends, his own family.
“I know,” you responded softly, leaning your chin on your hand over the railing.
“I’ll talk to them, make sure they won’t raz you like that anymore,” he promised, his expression serious.
“It’s not that. It’s just . . . I don’t know. It’s a lot to get used to,” you admitted gently. Before Benny, you’d never even been in a bar before, never ridden a motorcycle, never stayed out past curfew. He was a completely different experience than you were accustomed to. And now he wanted you to marry, after only knowing him for a few weeks. He wanted to be your husband, your partner for life. Your life felt like a bit of a whirlwind ever since you met him, but you wanted to be certain it wasn’t just fun because it was new.
He didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there, his eyes tracing your features, his hand resting over your own. You could practically see the gears turning in his brain, something in him conflicted. Finally, he released a soft sigh, putting an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close. “You don’t have to answer them, you know. Hell, you don’t have to answer me. Not till you’re ready.”
Your heart skipped a beat as you breathed in his scent – leather, smoke and something uniquely Benny. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that I . . . ”
Benny pulled back slightly, his fingers tilting your chin up to meet his gaze, his thumb gently brushing your cheek. “Hey, you don’t owe anyone an explanation, not even me. You’ll say yes when you’re ready. And when that time comes, I’ll be here. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as it was your turn to kid. “How do you know I’ll say yes?”
Benny’s smile was gentle but still roguishly confident. His hand lingered on your cheek, his fingers tracing down the curve of your jaw as if he were mapping every detail of you. “I just know. When you feel it – when it’s real – you just know.”
He said it so simply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, as if love were the most uncomplicated concept. You didn’t understand that, couldn’t see it that way. You’d seen the love your parents shared and that was beautiful and kind but it was also messy and cruel more often than not. And you understood that your parents were not the only representation of what love and marriage was supposed to be, but it was a constant presence in your life. They didn’t have perfect love, not like what you’d see in the movies or read in books. And you wondered if maybe you were giving too high of expectations for what love was supposed to be, but what you felt when you were around Benny . . . well, it felt exactly like the books described.
The way he looked at you, as if you were the most important thing in the world, made you feel so seen. The way he listened to you as if you were the most entertaining show, made you feel so heard. And the truth was undeniable: you were falling for Benny faster than you thought possible. It was terrifying. Benny was all fire and freedom, a rebel who didn’t play by the rules, who followed his own path with reckless abandon. And you admired that about him, but the thought of stepping into his world permanently felt like stepping off a ledge into the unknown.
“What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?” he asked, pulling you back into the present.
You pulled back slightly, biting your lip in contemplation before speaking your mind, “Don’t you wonder if there are other girls out there that you haven’t even met yet? Girls who are more suited for you?”
He shook his head, his voice light as he said, “Nah, I know you’re the only one for me, kid.”
“But marriage is serious. It’s forever.”
His hand slid down to your hip, turning you to face him fully, his expression solemn. “I never . . . I never thought marriage was real. The way I saw my mom and old man together . . . what they had wasn’t love. And I realized that at an early age. I didn’t think it was something that was real, just a bunch of fairytale bullshit you tell little kids. The girls I’ve been with, girls that may have been more suited for me, have never made me feel what I feel with you, Bunny. This is serious to me too because it proves everything I’ve never believed in.”
Emotion caught in the back of your throat as you pictured the man standing before you as just a boy living in a toxic household, an unloving home. It made you want to hold him tight, to shield him from the rest of the world. The man who held you so gently, who took you for night rides just to cheer you up. The man who came to your bake sale when nobody else did. The man who promised to drive slow so as not to scare you. The man who said he’d follow you all the way to California so that you didn’t have to go by yourself. The man who taught you about his hobbies with eagerness, and listened to yours with attentiveness.
He deserved to be loved in the same way he loved. But the tragic thing was that he didn’t see that, couldn’t comprehend someone loving him like that. He was damaged by his childhood, and you realized that he didn’t think he was worthy of repair. But you’d show him that he was, that he was worthy of everything he never had.
Slowly, you lifted your hands to gently cup his face, and his breath hitched in his throat. There was a shift in his expression – his usual teasing and bravado now replaced with some raw and unguarded as though he was offering you a glimpse into a deeper part of him, one rarely ever shown to anyone.
He pressed his forehead to yours, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “You’re not just some girl to me, Bunny. You know that, right?”
The words sent a shiver down your spine. He wasn’t playing around now, not hiding behind his usual flirty quips. His sincerity was almost overwhelming. You swallowed thickly. “But what if I mess this up? What if I’m the one who can’t do this?”
Benny’s brows furrowed and he lifted a hand to brush across your cheek, his touch gentle but grounding. “You won’t. You couldn’t, even if you tried.”
“You’re making it sound so easy,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, as if you didn’t quite believe him.
Benny could feel your tremble, the shaky laugh betraying your nerves you were trying so hard to hide. He could sense your heart racing, and he wanted so desperately to be the one to soothe it, to take away the hesitation in your eyes. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, the soft curve of it making his heart ache in his chest. He loved how your lips quivered just slightly under his touch. He loved making you blush, loved teasing you until you looked at him like you were annoyed or completely at his mercy. But this . . . this was different. His touch lingered on your lip, slow and almost reverent as he savored the way you responded to him. It wasn’t about teasing anymore – it was about showing you what you meant to him.
“It is,” he murmured, his voice a little rougher than he intended “It’s easy because it’s you.”
The air between you felt electric as his hand slid down the curve of your neck, his fingers lingering there, feeling the steady thrum of your heartbeat that seemed to match his own wild one. He ducked his head slightly as he whispered, “You’re scared. But you don’t need to be.”
He meant it, more than he meant anything in his life. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes again, searching for any sign of doubt, any sign that you didn’t feel the same way he did. Your eyes – wide and uncertain – met his, and Benny felt the weight of his words over them both.
“How can you be so sure?” you asked, your soft voice almost disappearing in the night.
And how could he explain it, especially since he’s never been good at explaining his feelings? How could he put into words what was so abundantly clear to him? That you made everything – even the most outrageous things – seem possible. That with you, he didn’t feel like just some fuck-up waiting for the next diaster. With you he felt grounded, like he belonged somewhere. Like you saw him for more than just the wild, reckless kid everyone else saw.
“Because you make me sure,” he responded with a gentle, encouraging smile as his hands moved to tilt your chin upwards to him. “You make my life feel like it’s supposed to.”
His gaze moved down to your mouth once more as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, and he simply couldn’t resist anymore. He closed the gap, brushing his lips so softly against your own. The kiss was gentle, tender, but as you responded to his touch, the need that had been simmering inside him for so long flared to life. His hands dropped down to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, smiling into the kiss when he heard your slight gasp.
His heart pounded in his chest as the world seemed to fade away briefly until it was just you and him, just this. He never wanted to stop, never wanted to let you go.
But you did eventually pull away, the need to breathe becoming all consuming. Breathlessly, he pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes remaining closed as he focused on slowing his pulse. His hands remained on your waist, holding you like you might slip away if he let go.
“You see?” he whispered as his lips brushing against your forehead softly. “It’s easy being with you.”
You giggled and his heart soared at the melody. It took everything in him not to pull you back into another kiss, not to hold onto you like you were the only thing that kept him grounded.
His lips still tingled from the kiss, and he could taste the faint sweetness of your breath, the softness of your lips. It wasn’t enough. It never felt like enough for Benny. He wanted more of you. He’d never wanted anything like he wanted you, never craved anyone like he craved you. It was almost unbearable, like every second where he wasn’t touching you was a second wasted.
And yet, he knew you were scared. He could see it in the way you looked down at your shoes, could hear it in the timidity of your voice. It only made him want to protect you more, to make you see that being with him would never be something you had to fear. But he didn’t know how to say that without sounding like he was pushing, without making you feel like you were being rushed into a decision that was as much about you as it was him.
But damn if he didn’t want to make you his.
He opened his eyes and pulled back enough to look at you face again, to really take you in. And my god, the way you were looking up at him with those wide, innocent eyes made his chest tighten. And you didn’t even realize how much power you had over him. One look, one smile, and he was a goner.
Before either of you could speak, thunder cracked off in the distance, bringing you both back to the present, back to the rest of the world. You glanced up at the dark clouds that blew in to cover the stars, wondering how long you had stood on this bridge with Benny.
“Guess we should get back,” you said sheepishly.
“Guess so,” Benny replied with a lazy grin as though the storm could come crashing down and he’d still be perfectly content standing here with you.
“Do you think it’s going to rain?” you asked as you walked to his bike, glancing up at the thick, dark clouds blowing in from the west.
“Nah,” he said as he swung a leg over the bike with that signature confidence that made your heart race. “We’ll be fine.”
Famous last words.
******
By the time Benny pulled up to your house, rain was pouring from the sky like a waterfall, fat and heavy droplets splattering onto the sidewalk. Despite wearing Benny’s Vandals jacket, the rain had completely soaked you. Your hair, which had been meticulously pinned up just hours ago, was plastered to your face, and your dress clung to your body like a second skin.
You didn’t wait for him to shut off the bike before you hopped off and tugged on his sleeve.
“C’mon!” You laughed, tugging on Benny’s sleeve as you ran for the safety of your porch overhang. Your heels splashed through the water pooling on the blacktop, and he followed quickly behind, his warm hands finding your waist to steady you from falling as you both stumbled beneath the overhang.
Breathless and grinning like an idiot, you turned to face him, and you were momentarily stunned by the sight. Rainwater rolled down from his usually swept up hair, sliding down the curve of his cheekbones and falling off his jawline. He only wore a whote t shirt, the wet fabric turning almost transparent as it clung to every ridge, every toned muscle and you blinked before your gaze shot back up to his face. Even as wet as a drowned rat, he still managed to look so effortlessly sexy.
He was grinning at you with that boyish expression, and heat filled your face at the realization that you were just as soaked as he was but definitely not as pretty a sight. You probably looked like a mess — makeup smeared, hair ruined — but he was staring at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.
“Not gonna rain, huh?” you teased, quirking an eyebrow at the heavy rainfall just off your porch.
“Just a light sprinkle,” he returned easily, but you noticed he had to bite his bottom lip to keep from laughing.
“Do you wanna come in?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. “To dry off?”
He sobered instantly, his gaze raking over your form before moving to your front door. He’d never been inside your house, never seen where you call home, where you lay down at night and replay your memories of him. There was never really an option for him to be inside your house. He’d never met your parents — despite asking multiple times to meet them, but you couldn’t bring yourself to put neither your parents nor Benny though that. Deep down, you knew your father would never approve of Benny, never give him his blessing. It was a disaster waiting to happen when he found out that you were dating a biker. You begged your mother to keep it a secret to which she obliged, but you knew it wouldn’t be long till he found out.
Benny took a full step back from you, hesitation obvious in his face, his voice low and almost regretful he said. “I—I better not, Bun.”
Normally, you wouldn’t ask again after being denied, wouldn’t be so bold. But you weren’t the same girl you were a few weeks ago before you met Benny. Emboldened by the perfect opportunity to have him inside your home, to share a piece of yourself with him, you stepped forward.
You took a step forward, your voice soft but sure. “My parents aren’t home. C’mon, just to dry off and wait till the rain lets up a little. You can’t drive in that anyway. It’s not safe and I won’t let you.”
Benny released a breath that sounded a lot like a laugh as he shook his head, clearly conflicted by your invitation. And for a moment, you thought he might shake his head and turn away. You thought he might face the rainstorm and leave you behind.
But instead, he nodded and your heart soared at the small gesture. Filled with hopeful energy, you shot him a smile, moving to open the front door and invite him inside your home, inside your world.
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yunniestars · 23 hours
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"maybe this time, love won't end."
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. . . ACT IV. "Oh No, I'm Falling In Love." ʚɞ pairing: kinich x gn!reader ʚɞ cw: kind of short sorry, mostly fluff hehe, reader is shit at cooking
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"sorry..." you dry his hair off using a towel as you apologize. "to be fair, it started to rain heavily, too. so it would've saved you from being sick."
"it's fine," kinich responds as he mesmerize over how your hands knead his hair with tender. "i would've said yes either way. but you really didn't had to headlock me like that," he frowns which erupts a giggle from you.
"i literally never seen you make that face. i should do it more often." he scoffs at your suggestion.
even with such childish banter, kinich feels so much warmth from what was happening at the moment. the loud and thunderous rain contrasted the comforting laughter from the both of you. it reminded him of how you'd tend to his wounds when he came home from a commission that made him end up in a bunch of bruises.
this very moment felt like one of them, however he knew it wasn't the same.
the love and affection he felt, though, remained.
suddenly, he felt something caress his hair. and it wasn't a towel.
"hmm?" kinich feels your hand on top of his hair, which surprised him. "what are you doing?"
"feeling your hair. it's so soft," you tell him as you bask into the softness of the strands. "seriously, how do you have better hair than me? it's so annoying," you sounded a pout which made him chuckle.
"maybe it's because you're the one taking care of it."
୨୧
time ticks down and before the both of you knew it, the hour of supper had arrived.
kinich would expect that it would've been domestic, cozy and full of laughter. he thought that it'd be a simple moment of peace with shared fondness.
boy he was so wrong. because apparently alongside your memories, your amnesia also caused you to forget your ability how to cook -- or more like, you have no idea how to measure things and the portions you pour in the dish ends up altering the taste completely.
"oh my archons- i said SALT."
"THAT'S SALT YOU DUM-DUM."
"look at the label closely, and it says 'sugar'."
"oh."
it was rare for kinich to get verbally upset, but this very moment had him wanting to throw punches at you and toss you from the very top of tectipac peak. he tries his very best to not show his frustration and be patient but oh goodness gracious of all archons you were stubborn.
"kinich! how much soup do i pour in?" you ask but even though you did, your hand had a mind of its own and poured a lot of soup on the bowl which could only take half of the amount you poured on, which ultimately led you to dropping the bowl and a loud yelp from you.
kinich immediately stopped what he was doing and immediately ran up to you, caressing your burnt hand while bringing you to a place away from the shards of glass.
"are you okay? how bad does it hurt?" he asks while checking for any bruises.
"a little..." you responded while feeling a bit faint from the altercation that just happened. kinich sighed and carried you to your couch, gently laying you on top of there.
"stay," he instructs while he goes off to grab your first-aid kit. you were confused on how he already knew where it was placed, but perhaps it's due to the amount of times he crashed in your place.
besides everything, though, you felt your heart thump at how he'd take such good care of you. even though you were stupid to pour an unreasonable amount of soup in the cup, he never insulted you and just immediately came to your aid. it felt nice, considering how you'd always get called out for being clumsy when you still lived with your family.
it wasn't just that, though. the way he'd gently hold you felt like you just fit right in his arms. is it platonic to say that being your friend's arms felt like home? because that's exactly how you felt.
you were used to how boyfriend-material kinich would be but goddamn it still made your heart skip a beat each time.
then again, he said it's how he treated his friends in general, so did you really have any right to feel like that?
after a time of thinking, he soon comes back with the first-aid kit in his hands and kneels in front of you, grabbing that injured hand onto his immediately to treat it.
"so reckless... you just do whatever you want, huh?" he huffs while applying ointment on your burn.
"i'm sorry," you apologize, feeling a lot of guilt while refusing to look at him.
"for?"
"for being clumsy and... not being a good host."
"host?" kinich raises a brow and remembers the main reason how he winded up in your abode. "ah, you don't need to apologize for any of that." "but-"
"but what? no matter the amount of apologizes you utter to me, you'll still do the same thing ever again, and i would be a fool to repeatedly tell you that it's 'okay'," he chuckles lightly and touches your bandaged hand. "i treasure you a lot, so i'm willing to put up with your antics."
ah fuck.
you feel yourself burning up at your words, while also feeling tears well up in your eyes. "i mean that much to you?"
"of course."
you smile and look at him with a gaze you'd only ever show to him. "well, i feel the same."
୨୧
a few hours after eating and cleaning up, the rain hasn't still gone away which led up to the reason why he's staying at your home overnight for the time-being.
"i'm going to sleep at the couch," kinich says, about to tell you good night until you beat him to it.
"no, you're sleeping in my bed," you refute. "you're the guest, i should be the one sleeping on the couch."
kinich sighs and crosses his arms. "well, looks like this is another argument i can't wait, so how about this -- we share a bed."
the idea made you blush. even though kinich looked nonchalant on the surface, deep down he was pulling his own hair for saying such crass things. now he felt kind of like some creep for saying it.
"sorry, i shouldn't have said anything," he apologizes, wanting to break the awkward tension. but you just shake your head and drag him on your bed.
"it's fine. we can share," you fiddle your hands together.
oh. well... that definitely surprised him.
"what? are you sure? i just suggested it because i didn't want you to sleep on the couch and i know you're going to force me to sleep on your bed so..." he trails off and you just put your index finger on his lip, which immediately shuts him up.
"if i say we can share, then we can. okay?" you huff and place your finger back down, leaving him to no choice (even though he really liked the idea). "
and so, you two end up sharing the same comforter. surprisingly, kinich ended up falling asleep real fast. after all, you did notice how exhausted he looked even before the two of you got soaked by the cold rain.
you smile and stop any urges to go and caress his face. you notice his long lashes, the marking on his neck, and of course your favorite part of him, how soft his hair looked. even while sleeping, he looked so undoubtedly beautiful that you'd think about what it'd be like if you kissed him- woah there.
kisses?
beautiful?
you notice how you used such words towards him, ones that only couples would ever refer to each other. but can you blame yourself? he was so full of love, giving you attention when you barely ask for it, doing things that you'd only let him do to you.
the more you think of it, more the realization finally dawns upon you...
you were in love.
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୨୧ act iii | act v ୨୧ masterlist
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♡ tags: @lvvcian @sunsethw4 @wutap @gasoline-eater @ellieloverrr @romyoia @lunavixia @hipsdofangirl @3lectraheart @keiiqq @fantasyhopperhea @idontevenknow129 @kimura-uzuri
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a/n: finally!! ive been wanting to finish this chapter ive had the idea since act 3 but i am so sorry for not updating a lot as of late!! :( ive been preparing for lots and lots of projects + exams r coming up. not sure if i can keep on updating consistently, but most likely when exams end and also during our club week hehe. thank u so much for being patient :')
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m-jelly · 3 days
Note
Hi Jelly! I haven't sent a request in a while, so I want to fix that now.
So what about Levi and the reader who secretly in love with him?
Levi breaks up with his girlfriend (it was her decision), he is devastated and upset. He comes to his best friend, who supports him. He thinks that he is unlovable, but she confesses her feelings to him.
She convinces him that he deserves love and she loves him. He realizes that his happiness was always next to him. Levi confess that he loves her back. And in the end, they become a couple.
Hi, I'm going to change a few things about this, hope that's okay cause I'm not a huge fan of the reader being used as an emotional blanket by a friend and then that friend "suddenly realising" they want them. I've been through this first hand and it hurt a lot and I'm still healing.
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@ladycheesington <3
Time heals all wounds.
Levi x fem! reader
Modern world, becoming a couple, friends to lovers.
Communication is important and you should always be open and honest with those you care for. Levi faces his own emotions and becomes honest which results in you being honest.
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The slam of your front door drew your attention. You lived in a cosy house in a nice welcoming town. Since moving to the town for your mental and physical health, you'd become much better. You were happy. The man who walked in through your door was the sheriff and someone you'd fallen in love with, but he had a girlfriend so you stayed a friend.
Levi trudged over to you in your window seat with his brows furrowed and a confused look. "Bea broke up with me."
You stared at him as a rush of emotions went through you. You were happy because you had a shot now, but you were crushed that the man you cared for seemed hurt. "Right. What did she say?"
"She said I've become distant, not fully invested and don't imagine a future with her." He sighed. "That I'm with her out of duty not love and I don't love or care for her."
You winced. "Tad harsh."
He hummed. "I think...she...was right."
You closed your book and sat up. "She was right?" You shifted on the seat and patted the spot next to you. "Sit."
He sat down and leaned his arms on his thighs. "I mean. I didn't look forward to seeing her. I didn't hate seeing her. It was more like..."
"Routine?"
He nodded. "Yeah. I feel awful about it. I don't want to hurt people, but I hurt her."
You nibbled the inside of your lip. "Were you fully invested in the relationship when you started dating?"
He looked up and started to remember a few things. "Ah, well..."
"Levi?"
He looked over at you and felt his cheeks heat up. "When you're in love, how do you feel or react?"
You tilted your head. "Are you questioning if you loved her?"
"Well, I am." He shuffled closer. "How do you know you're in love?"
You pressed your lips together as you thought. "Mm, well...I guess you feel warm inside you. You want to see them all the time. When you're going to see them or they message or call you, you get butterflies and you find yourself smiling a lot. When you're with them you feel comforted by their presence. All you can think about is growing old with them. You want to spend the rest of your life with them. Everything they do or say touches your heart and soul. You adore everything. You want to do everything for them. When you become a couple, you don't stop trying to woo them. You still get them gifts, you still take them on dates and you do everything to make them smile, Plus, holding them or being held by them just brings you inner peace."
Levi stared at you with a cute pinkness on his cheeks. "Mm."
You cleared your throat. "Y-You know Morticia and Gomez and how they are with each other?"
Levi nodded. "Yeah."
"Like that."
He leaned back and tapped the back of his head against your window. "Like that." He echoed your words as he stared at processed things.
You tapped your knuckles against his temple. "You got a lot going on in there."
Levi turned his head and looked deep into your eyes making your heart race. "I do. Your words have unlocked a lot inside me. I need to think a lot through."
You smiled at him. "Well, as always I'm here if you need me."
He grabbed your wrist. "Hey, thanks...I'm trying to...um...can I hug you?"
You stared a moment before nodding. "Yeah, sure thing." You wrapped your arms around him. "You sure to like my hugs, huh?"
He squeezed you. "You have a talent for it."
You pulled back and smiled. "Pizza and movies?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Can we cook together? I like cooking with you."
"Sure!" You walked to the kitchen with him following behind. "We'll make pizza. I need your expert skills in dough making. So get those muscles wor-." You flinched when Levi hugged you from behind. "Levi?"
He tapped his forehead against your shoulder. "Sorry. Just...just for a moment."
"Okay..." You assumed it was because he was upset. You had no idea what the real reason was for holding you. Levi had realised a lot.
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It'd been two months after Levi and Bea had broken up. Levi was doing fantastic and seemed happier. He was spending every waking moment with you or his friends. Bea was the opposite, she was happy at first but seeing Levi doing great she was getting unhappier.
The feelings you had for Levi were screaming at you to tell him. Levi was a lot more affectionate with you. He'd bring you gifts, flowers, food and drink as well as arrange days with you. Your heart kept telling you he was interested in you and to confess, but you were filled with so much self-doubt and worried that being with him would tank his reputation so soon after his last relationship.
You were sat in your bookstore filled with your usual customers and new ones enjoying drinks as they read in your cosy corner. While at your desk you had a piece of paper and a pen with you. You decided to put your feelings down on paper, but it was hard.
After thinking for a while you decided to start writing and it just flowed out of you. You explained how you believed Levi deserved the deepest and most pure love in the world. You said that he deserved so much in this life and he should charge for it. Near the end, you talked about how you've always loved him and cared so deeply for him. You wished him all the best and you'd understand if he wanted to stop being friends because you loved him.
A customer calling for you brought you out of your focus. You slipped away from your desk and walked over to them. Smiling brightly as you assisted them with getting the books they wanted and felt excited when they asked you for recommendations. You walked back with the gentleman to your desk to see Levi was standing there and your letter was gone.
Levi was glaring at the man with you who'd been making you smile and laugh. "Find everything you need?"
The man smiled. "I did. She's a peach and so helpful." He winked at you. "Thank you."
You smiled softly. "You're welcome. Check through them and if you're happy, I'll check you out."
"I hope you do 'cause I'm checking you out." He laughed. "I'm jesting...shit bad flirt...uh...I'll be back in a bit."
You waved to him as you hummed a laugh. "Sure." You walked over to your desk and sat. "Hey, Levi." You look around your desk. "Uh..."
Levi huffed. "I don't like that man."
"Ah, he's okay." You looked up. "Levi? Was there a letter on my desk when you arrived?"
He lifted the letter up as he continued to stare at the man. "You mean this one?"
You went pale as you gulped hard. "Did...did you read it?"
"Yes." He looked over at you and leaned on the desk. "I've been thinking hard since you told me what love is. I know without a doubt what love is now and who I actually love." He reached over and grabbed your hand and ran his lips over your fingers. "Knowing that the woman I love loves me back makes me incredibly happy. I came here today to ask you on a date." He kissed your fingers. "Your letter made me happier than words could describe. When I saw you I felt a rush of emotions and for the first time I finally understood this dark feeling I have been feeling often around you." He locked eyes with you as his look became arousingly dark. "I was a little jealous of you being with that man."
You gulped hard. "H-He was just b-being nice."
Levi released your hand and walked around to your side of the desk. It was cute how you backed up against the wall. He cupped your cheek and tilted his head. "I want you to be mine and only mine. I want to grow old with you." He said your name. "I love you."
Before you could speak his lips met yours in a passionate kiss. The two of you clung to each other, bodies pressed as you explored your love and the deep desires you had held onto for so long. The world around you both just vanished and you forgot all about where you were.
A clearing of a throat made Levi release your lips and look over to the noise while you hid your face against his chest. Levi stared at the man who had flirted with you. "Yes?"
The man strained a smile. "I want to buy these books."
Levi hummed and released you. "I'll do it."
"I was hoping-."
"She's busy." He scanned the books. "I'll do it."
He leaned a bit. "But I can see her right-."
"She's. Busy." He paused and stared at the man before continuing the transaction. He watched the man leave before turning to you. "Now, where was I? Oh yes." He cupped your face making you giggle. "You were going to tell me you love me too, right?"
You nodded shyly. "Yes. I love you too."
@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a
@youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity
@nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08
@levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife
@demonic-bird @searriously @anti-cupid
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somethingvicked · 3 days
Text
Forget me (not) pt 3
warnings: female reader, talk of memory loss, angst to fluff
You stared at Eddie, your head pounding from the sudden overload of information that just broke through the wall that had been there.
You felt the overwhelming love you had for Eddie, had had for so long. But you also remembered what he had told you, how he had pushed you aside like you were nothing, for Chrissy.
You pulled back, as if he had burned you and Eddie looked at you in panic, like a deer in the headlights.
“Easy, sweetheart, easy…” he started and you suddenly saw red.
“Don’t call me that!” you snapped and he paled. “I’m not your sweetheart any longer, don’t you remember? Because I sure do.”
But at the same time… Eddie had been at your side practically all this time. Why had he? Wasn’t he scared what Chrissy would think?
No, of course he wasn’t. Because he wanted to stay friends with you, he just didn’t want you to have feelings for him. And then you forgot them, a small voice in your head said.
Well, it worked out quite well for him, didn’t it?
You rose to your feet and Eddie quickly did the same, still looking at you like you were some unstable lunatic with a ticking bomb.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” you said, your voice tense. “It clearly worked. And so I guess you better go back to Chrissy, since I now remember everything.”
“Wait, no, Y/N, it’s not like that…”
“I’m back to my old self now, Eddie,” you growled at him. “You don’t need to protect me anymore or do your duty as a friend.”
“Sweetheart, me and Chrissy broke up!”
That made you stop dead in your tracks and you turned around. “You did?”
“Yeah,” Eddie nodded, panting as if he was in pain. “About two weeks after… your accident. She didn’t like that I spent all my time with you…”
You hadn’t thought it was possible for you to be more angry at him, but lo and behold!
“Are you saying it’s my fault she dumped you, Munson?!” you screeched, grimacing as the loud sound made your headache worse.
“No!” Eddie all but squeaked, “I… I’m trying to say that… being at your side was all I wanted. What happened… it made me realize… how much you mean to me. And I know I was an idiot, an insensitive dolt, a goddamn jerk! I hate myself for treating you that way and making you feel like you were not the most important person in my life! Always had been.”
By now he was nearly sobbing, tears brimming in his eyes. “When I heard what had happened… you have no idea… I thought you had died. And the last conversation I had with you was that I wished  you forgot everything.”
“And I did,” you said, shaking your head, still angry with him, but his tears and broken puppy eyes had made it go down a little. The fucker, even when he didn’t try he knew how to play you like a fiddle.
“Yes, you did. You didn’t remember me. I know I deserved it. To have you looking at me like I was a stranger, not being allowed to tickle you or carry you on my back… you remembering everyone else, but not me. I deserved that. But Y/N… please believe me when I say that you are the most important person in my life. When you left that day I sat and contemplated who I would miss more if I would never see them again – you or Chrissy. And… me never seeing Chrissy again, it didn’t made that much of a difference. But the thought of being without you, it made me… I felt shattered. I was going to call you, but then they called me and told me what had happened.”
You rubbed your temples. All of this… it was too much for you to handle right now.
“I… I need to go home,” you got out. “Think about all this.”
“I’ll drive you,” Eddie said, but you shook your head. “I want to be alone.”
“I don’t care,” Eddie said with a frown. “I’m not letting you walk home after regaining your memories and had such a shock. What if something happens? No, get in the van. I’ll drive you. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, but you’re not walking.”
A part of you wanted to smile, both at his stubbornness and with how he cared for you. But the rest of you were still so shaky after everything that you just pushed it away.
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A little while later you sat in your room, back at your desk with the photo album in front of you. Eddie had kept his promise and not talked to you the whole way home, even though he had glanced over at you at least one time every minute.
Despite having your memory back completely you felt more confused than ever.
Thankfully your mother had gone to the grocery store, thinking you were spending the day with Eddie, so you didn’t have to go through the roller coaster to tell her you were back to normal.
You weren’t sure what to do with Eddie. Remembering how he had treated you when he got together with Chrissy and his reaction when you told him how you felt about him… it made you feel heartbroken all over again but also angry.
And then… then you remembered how he had supported you and stood by you these last weeks, never quitting on you despite you not remembering anything about him, no matter how he had tried.
It felt like your head was about to explode. This was just too big and complicated for you to take on by yourself.
Usually you went to Eddie if you needed advice and talk something out but obviously that was a no go.
You didn’t want to talk to your mother either, it was enough you had to tell her your memory was back – your parents had been through hell, probably more so than you these last couple of weeks, you didn’t want to worry them even more.
After some time of contemplating you decided to call Steve. He was Eddie’s friend, he was your friend, and he knew the history between you two. He seemed like a good choice.
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Steve didn’t dawdle, he arrived less than twenty minutes after you hung up. The first thing he did when you opened the door was to give you a big hug.
“I’m so happy your memory is fully recovered,” he told you with a smile. “Although I still would’ve hoped you forgot about me being King Steve forever.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at that as you two walked up to your room.
You and Steve sat at the floor on your bedroom, backs leaned against your bed as you told him about the moment when you remembered everything, your reaction to Eddie, and how you felt so lost on what to do now.
Steve was quiet for a moment, running a hand through his hair, clearly deep in thought.
“You know I think what he did to you was really shitty. I seriously could have beaten him up for being so insensitive,” he told you, making you snort.
“But, he did tell me the same story – that even before you crashed into the tree he was imagining his life without you and without Chrissy. It was you that he almost broke down over losing. And this whole time… please forgive me for this, Y/N, but I actually told him that perhaps he should give you some space, do something else when the time went on and you didn’t remember a single thing about him. It was slowly draining him, he… he couldn’t fall asleep without looking at old pictures of you, crying.”
You were shocked. “Really?”
“Yeah. And – let me just say I didn’t exactly agree with that either – but he didn’t even look at Chrissy after your accident. Couldn’t stand to be near her. I think… I think he felt like it was his fault, what had happened to you, because he had been with her.”
“But I didn’t want him to do this because he felt guilty!” you protested.
“That’s what I said too, but he insisted that’s not why. And you know what? I believed him.”
Steve smiled at you and patted your shoulder. “Y/N, love is not easy. Everyone keeps saying it is but it’s really a fucking mess. When I was with Nancy I spray painted the sign of the cinema, calling her a slut. All because I thought she had cheated on me. The first girl I loved and I did that to her.”
You shook your head. You remembered that very clearly. It was before you and Steve became friends but you had still heard about it from the others.
“What I’m saying is… yes, Eddie was a goddamn idiot. But he realized he was and what he did wrong. And he has tried to make it right, and he will keep trying to make it right, if you let him. So… only you can decide whether you want to forgive Eddie or not, Y/N. But… perhaps you should try and do what he did. Try imagining the rest of your life without him. Does that feel like something you would be okay with?”
Your felt your breath hitch and your stomach turn into knots. A life without Eddie? It felt like… like suddenly the same feeling from your memory loss was back. Only now it wasn’t the past you missed but the future. It was only blank.
“No,” you whispered, your voice trembling.
“Then there’s your answer,” Steve told you softly.
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Steve drove you to the trailer park and you walked up to the Munson’s trailer and knocked on the door.
Eddie opened, and you got the feeling of dejá vu from the last time you had come here. But Eddie sure looked different.
He looked as if he had cried, his hair a nest, as if he had ran his fingers through the curls multiple times, his knuckles bruised as if he had punched a wall.
“Y/N?” he wondered in surprise when he saw you.
“Hey,” you said, smiling weakly. “Look, Eddie…”
“Is this the moment where you… you’re going to tell me that you never want to see me again?” Eddie interrupted, his voice trembling, and it honestly broke your heart.
“No,” you told, reaching out a pushing a curl out of his face. “I… I’m still quite angry with you for what you did. But… it feels like this whole thing, what happened… it was some sort of lesson for both of us. A lesson for you to have me forget you. And a lesson for me, how it would feel to have no connection to you. The feeling, when I think back of how it felt, not knowing everything that has happened between us… it was horrible. I don’t want to be without you again, or ever forget you again. Not even the stupid thing you did, even though it makes me want to shake you.”
Eddie let out a gasp and then he all but squished you against him, holding you so hard you were sure you would have bruises.
“Oh, sweetheart…” he whispered, carefully kissing your temple. The bruises were healed but he remembered them all too vividly, kissing every spot where they had been.
“I’m so sorry for what I did. And for how I behaved when I started dating Chrissy. I just… I guess I got caught up with how it felt that someone popular actually wanted me. And in the back of my head I always thought you and I would have more time. I was an idiot, I know that. I will never make that mistake again.”
He inhaled before he continued: “And I’m so sorry that I never realized… that you loved me. I… I wished I had realized it sooner but I didn’t…”
You shushed him. “I know. That’s what I mean, that maybe the accident happening… it was a wake up call for both of us.”
Eddie nodded. “Yes. I’ve always loved you, sweetheart. But it’s more than that. You… you’re my person. The reason why it has never worked out with any other girl. Why I couldn’t see a future with Chrissy. Because you were the one.”
Now it was your turn to blink back tears.
Eddie suddenly pulled something from his pocket. Your eyes widened when you saw it was the dried flower from the scene of the accident.
“I found it in the van, on the passenger seat,” Eddie said. “I want you to have this and save it. As a reminder, that you will never forget me again. And as a promise from me, that I will never forget you’re the only one I want.”
You smiled, and placed the blue Forget-me-not behind your ear.
“The only one?”
“The only one,” Eddie promised, sealing it with a kiss.
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OMITB S4:E5 "Adaptation"
We're at the halfway mark and I feel like fans with a Hercule Poirot or Sherlock Holmes type of IQ could solve the mystery by now but I am not one of those fans so I'm just here to recap and debunk or strengthen theories I already had. I say this every week but I am truly loving the pacing of this season and that they don't shy away from answering questions early on instead of trying to shoehorn everything in for the season finale. As always spoilers ahead!
Ok so now we officially have confirmation that there are two killers. After circling back to the footprint on the windowsill of the Dudenoff apartment, the tacky paper used on the photoshoot and production room set reveals that the footprint belongs to one of the Brothers sisters. We see that one twin is physically strong enough to lift a body when she lifts Oliver and moves him onto his correct mark. I don't think that necessarily means both twins are involved in the murder though. We also end the episode with that same twin being missing and hearing a gunshot implying that she has been killed. I have been waiting YEARS for a season in which the bodies start piling up and it's finally happening!
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This episode was narrated by Marshall the writer and I don't know how to feel about his character. I get that he and Mabel are supposed to be similar in that they both have imposter syndrome but he in general just gives off red flags. He's inserting himself into investigating which is something killers do and him having the fake facial hair introduces the idea of the killers having disguises so clearly he was important to this episode. Not to mention he's giving stalker vibes or parasocial Arconiac vibes. I find it very interesting that Mabel and Charles did not view the video of his stand up to verify his alibi. This could very well mean that he was at the Arconia the night that Sazz was killed. He also never stepped on the tacky paper so we don't have his footprint. That's two strikes against him.
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You know who else we didn't see step on the tacky paper? Glen Stubbins. Who is back by the way. I still don't care for his character but I am starting to suspect him. He's physically capable of jumping on the windowsill because he's a stunt performer and for that same reason I'm sure he's also capable of aiming and firing a gun. Also how did he know exactly where Charles lived? They only met the one time at the Stunt Man bar. And yes it's sweet that he brought bread but he could have left it downstairs with Lester. As Ben's stunt double I can't help but wonder if he was present at the Arconia the night of Sazz's murder but in disguise. There's actually a really compelling theory on the hulu subreddit that Glen is the killer if you want to check it out.
Bev actually does have an alibi for that night and seems to only be guilty of wanting her movie made. Can we rule her out just yet? Idk but we'll see. She didn't seem that confident while aiming the gun or firing it off to prove it wasn't loaded. Her revealing Sazz's voicemail and the time it was left definitely proved helpful in establishing a timeline and confirming that there are two killers. Or three if you think it's three people working together.
Howard working for the production team is only strengthening my theory that he's the Moriarty. This man is everywhere! He was working at the theater last season and immersed in the plot there and now here he is in the center of it all once again. Again I don't think he's an evil mastermind, I just think he started off envying the closeness of the trio and now he's high off the power of manipulating things behind the scenes.
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Have any of you heard of the opera La Forza Del Destino? In A Series of Unfortunate Events, there is a reference and parallel to it in which a character is mortally wounded after a weapon is accidentally fired off and strikes them. What if the killer was aiming for Charles, saw Sazz dressed similar to him and was aiming to shoot, and the accomplice called to warn them that it was the wrong person but something startled the killer and they accidentally shot Sazz? Like for example they were ready to go and then someone knocked loudly or something which not only muffled the noise of the phone but startled them enough to shoot.
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This season has so many parallels and coincidences that we have to assume is on purpose. We've got multiple dopplegangers and cases of mistaken identity, guns being misfired (Eva with Rudy's prop gun and Bev with Sazz's loaded gun), and even the blackout in the S4 premiere vs the fire alarm going off in the S1 premiere.
My small takeaways from the episode:
Mabel being 30 and having an identity crisis is so relatable and I hope she finds her way by the end of the series.
Lester talking about wearing a gimp mask is WILD
Charles mentioning having an account in Belize and Detective Williams pretending to unhear it is hilarious
I'm beyond tired of this Oliver and Loretta plotline and him being insecure about her new status as a celebrity. WRAP IT UP!
Fans keep bringing up the cold case and I wonder if that will become the plot point in season five
Zach Galifianakis telling Oliver about how Jonk (sp?) ran through the seven dwarfs and that they could be heard Hi-Ho'ing from the trailer took me out 🤣
Charles having a new murder board each week is my favorite thing because that's literally all of us fans each week after watching a new episode
Bev and Cinda would be besties or frenemies and I really need to see them in a scene together before the season is over
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fivelasanctum · 2 days
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Dark Fivela *Five Edition*
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Update on the nightmare sequence. Apparently they filmed it with five which hits hard in the feels. He could be holding on to his own sanity but it's precarious at best. Would be romantic but also depressing if Lila and Five had the same nightmares of losing the other to insanity. Lila has been called 'Crazy Lady' but it's five who has danced with madness multiple times in his life. Some outwardly, some from his past and emotions/feelings underneath the surface. Ironic given the from the montage, he seemed like he was her rock. Which makes sense since this is Lila's first rodeo with dealing with it to this degree. Five here, doesn't look as unhinged as Lila but might be worse. He stares listlessly at her. No emotion. The opposite of love isn't always hate but apathy. He surrenders to the impulse to give up. Foreshadowing of his suicidal, broken hearted mindset at the end of the season. If he doesn't have her, he rather let the world burn. Go back to their purgatory alone to be lost physically and in the mind or worse...end himself. He saw himself when he was on that course but in the end...death would happen. Just about how one dies. (Least they had a chance to communicate with their eyes and hold each other) He slowly backs away from her. Abandoning lila to it all. Going into the light of the cracked open subway. Symbolically it's beautiful. Where as they cursed the subway often for their predicament; it was their safe haven from the horrors they could face outside of the time stops. A place for them to laugh, share stories...where they truly sat down to know each other. In this case, can represent the mind. Given how five was going towards the broken opening of it. It's ambiguous given the short clip but if you look between the lines, Lila's own fears were manifesting. Yes being alone like Five suffered for 45 years but something more there with him walking away. Not having warmth in his eyes. Not caring (loving) her anymore and shutting down. Leaving everything behind. This was early in their subway travels so could show that she did already love him but was hidden under denial and how it would look like. Perhaps, scared if she did reveal her feelings too early...the judgements from Five since one would think he would be more loyal to his family over someone who cares for him (at this point she could have been unsure) The fear of losing him by misreading the emotions but also the domino effect of the entire family closing her out if it wasn't reciprocated. Their is her complications with kids and still being married and all ^^; Or this was a sobering moment in the nightmare, causing her to realize how much she had grown to care for him (outside of reliance for survival) if she lost him completely to insanity. Much to ponder with these clips. This song came to my mind with this whole concept. If we had more darker fivela scenes I could imagine all the edits with the song. Missed opportunities... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qn862pSFe_M
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lightlycareless · 1 day
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Need a moment we're Naoki Is just straight jealous of naoya, of his relationship with y/n, and how he feels that should've been him. How he tried to play it off as him hating naoya, but deep down he's just hurt because he thought that maybe, there could've been some part of y/n that wanted him too .
OOF this ask... I know most of my readers hate Naoaki rn but I gotta say I still have a special place for him in my heart hahahah I don't know what to call it, there's just... something about him that doesn't allow me to let go.
Anyways, this inspired the following :) I hope you enjoy it!
warnings: none. just a naoaki that realizes he gravely miscalculated everything. (he's my interpretation of naoya's brother from over here... proceed with caution)
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Naoaki becoming jealous, or more like completely desolate would finally happen the moment he sees you happily receive Naoya back home.
Up to that point, he’d always seen you cower, doing your best to avoid the abuse of your husband, using him as cover even if Naoaki wasn’t all too enthusiastic about it. He had other plans involving you, after all.
Yet, as much as he disliked being used that way, he was glad to see that the rupture in your relationship was so deep, there seemed no possibility you’d ever find your way back to your estranged husband. Ever!
It was simply impossible. He’d done so much to hurt you—a miracle would be needed to mend his mistakes; for you to believe in his so-called redemption.
Nonetheless, that’s exactly what happened. As if by God’s decree, Naoya just… began to change. One morning he simply acknowledged all of his wrongful doings, subsequently growing regretful and wanting to mend them—starting apparently caring for you, ha! Now, isn’t that hilarious??
Even then, Naoaki still believed you couldn’t be so naïve to be tempted by Naoya’s blatant manipulation: it was obvious that his brother was trying to pull you back to him, fearing he might’ve been losing his grasp on you! Much to his personal delight.
That would only prove, however, how gravely he’s miscalculated your nature, the same one he took great advantage of for his own purposes, now directed onto his own brother.
You were just to… stupid for your own good, Naoaki regretfully mused, too gullible to believe that people could change; dangerous to be left alone.
But isn’t that what he expected from you, though? What he wanted for himself?
Certainly, for a part of him, buried deep beneath the anger he harbored against his brother and clan… hoped that you’d see good in him too?
Longing that the time you’ve spent together provided something more than just a haven for you to seek solace in, or reasons for him to exploit against his brother…?
Genuienly, perhaps innocently, Naoaki thought you’d grown affectionate of him through these moments— like he had become, unable to remember the last time he approached you out of benefit for his ulterior motives.
Yet, he seemed to be the only one to think so, for as time went on, days becoming nothing but a blur, his presence in your mind slowly disappeared, redirected instead to your dreadful husband—
Your warm welcomes, your joyful jests, the eagerness to know of his day accompanied by a tasty meal, enrichened by your bright, wide eyes filled with excitement at every word he said…
All those wonderful things… weren’t his anymore. No. All of them belonged to Naoya now.
Or perhaps they never did; just like everything regarding him and his brother, the heir always took priority.
And such, Naoaki eventually accepted the fact that out of the two, only he was foolish enough to want more than what he initially anticipated; to desire something intimate, for the sake of his own happiness, or perhaps just wanting to seek validation through the only person he believed would be kind enough to do so…
But you moved on. Using him as a steppingstone to make amends with your husband, the so-called love of your life as your blushing face and meek demeanor would declare soon enough.
Naoaki should be gravely hurt by these admittances, but another part of him reminded him this wasn’t the first time he’s ever been betrayed. Delegated to second place against the beloved heir, the prodigious sorcerer everyone seems to venerate, you included.
Leaving him to endure the rest of his dreadful life on his own.
Guess his father was right when saying he wasn’t meant for anything beyond failure, a lost cause that ought to give up before he brought long any more shame to the clan.
Just as he claimed you to be as well, though Naoaki would now have to disagree, because after all that happened between you, him, and Naoya…
He can finally assess the painful truth:
You were always like them—you just needed… the right motivation to accept so.
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deans-queen · 3 days
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Repairing Hearts 👷🏻‍♂️���️‍🩹
New Mini Series
Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader (Y/N)
Summary: Reader (Y/N) is a single mom, struggling to fix her leaky roof. She posts an ad on social media desperate for help. When local repairman, Jensen Ackles offers to help, the two grow an unexpected connection that grows.
Warnings: SMUT (p in v, wrap it up kids), other mature themes, mild language, emotional topics. (If there is any that I missed please let me know) I will label the warnings in each part!
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Part 5: Reader’s POV
Warnings: language, arguing/angst, light smut, and fluff.
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The air was crisp, with a soft breeze carrying the scent of freshly popped popcorn and cotton candy as we made our way through the zoo. Aria skipped ahead, her excitement practically radiating off her in waves as she tugged at Jensen’s hand, pulling him toward the direction of the elephant exhibit.
“Come on, come on!” she squealed, her little voice filled with pure joy. “I want to see the elephants first!”
Jensen grinned down at her, letting her lead the way. “Alright, princess. Elephants it is,” he said, his tone playful as he glanced back at me with that familiar warmth in his eyes. It still took me by surprise sometimes—how naturally he fit into our lives, how easily he had bonded with Aria.
We had spent the whole week planning this trip to the zoo, and Aria had barely contained her excitement the night before, chattering on and on about the elephants. They had always been her favorite. She loved their big ears, their gentle eyes, and the way they moved so slowly and gracefully despite their size.
When we finally reached the elephant exhibit, Aria pressed her face against the railing, her eyes wide as she stared at the giant creatures.
“Look, Mommy! They’re so big!” she exclaimed, pointing at the elephants as they slowly lumbered across the enclosure.
I smiled, leaning down next to her. “They are, baby. Aren’t they beautiful?”
Jensen knelt down beside her, his hand resting gently on her back. “Did you know elephants are one of the smartest animals in the world?”
Aria’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Really?”
“Really,” he said, nodding. “They can remember things for years, and they even have their own way of talking to each other.”
I watched them interact, my heart swelling with affection. Aria hung on Jensen’s every word, soaking in everything he said as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. And the way he looked at her—with such patience, such care—it made my chest ache in the best way possible. He even bought her a stuffed animal elephant that she’s going to love and cherish forever.
The day passed in a blur of laughter and excitement. We explored every corner of the zoo, from the giraffes to the penguins to the big cats, and Aria loved every second of it. Jensen carried her on his shoulders when her little legs got tired, and I couldn’t stop smiling, watching the two of them together. It felt so easy, so right—like we were already a family.
As the sun started to dip low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the zoo, we decided to head home. Aria had fallen asleep in the back seat before we even left the parking lot, exhausted from the excitement of the day. I glanced at Jensen, his hands resting on the steering wheel as he drove, his eyes soft as he watched the road.
“Thank you,” I said quietly, reaching over to rest my hand on his arm. “For today. It meant so much to her.”
Jensen smiled, his hand covering mine, squeezing gently. “It meant a lot to me too, Y/N. I love spending time with you both.”
I smiled back, feeling the warmth of his words settle into my heart. “We love spending time with you too.”
When we got home, I tucked Aria into bed making sure she had her stuffed animal Elephant close to her, which she decided to call him “Dumbo” from the Disney movie. Jensen and I were sitting on the couch, basking in the glow of the perfect day, laughing about Aria’s excitement over the elephants and how she had tried to convince Jensen to adopt one as a pet.
But then we heard a knock at the door — wondering who it could be at this hour. And to my dismay, standing at the front door, leaning against the frame with a scowl on his face, was Aria’s dad. I hadn’t seen him in months—hadn’t heard from him since the day he decided being a father was too much responsibility for him. And now, here he was, showing up unannounced like he had any right to be here.
I felt my stomach twist with a mix of anxiety and anger as I looked at him. Jensen’s eyes were immediately on me, his expression hardening when he followed my gaze and saw who was waiting for us.
“Y/N,” my ex said, his voice dripping with annoyance. “We need to talk.”
I straightened my back, trying to keep my voice calm. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged, pushing off the doorframe. “I figured it was time I saw my daughter. I’ve got rights, you know.”
My jaw clenched. The audacity of him showing up here after all this time—after abandoning Aria and me—was almost too much to handle. “You don’t get to just show up out of nowhere, acting like you care.”
He rolled his eyes, stepping closer, and I could see the anger in his expression. “Don’t act like I’m the bad guy, Tianna. You kept me out of her life.”
“YOU abandoned me when I got pregnant! And now all of sudden that’s my fault that you’re not part of her life!?” I say, frustration and anger in my voice. I couldn’t believe the bullshit that was coming out of his mouth.
I could feel the tension building, my chest tightening with the familiar hurt and frustration that always seemed to follow him. But before I could say anything else, Jensen stepped forward, placing himself between me and my ex. His presence was solid, protective, and the look in his eyes was cold as steel.
“That’s enough,” Jensen said, his voice calm but dangerous. “You’ve got no right to talk to her like that.”
My ex narrowed his eyes, clearly irritated by Jensen’s presence. “Who the hell are you?” he snapped, looking Jensen up and down like he was sizing him up.
Jensen didn’t back down. “I’m the one who’s been here for Y/N and Aria while you’ve been off doing whatever the hell you’ve been doing. You want to talk? You do it with respect.”
My ex let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Respect? You’re just some random guy she’s messing around with.”
Jensen’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he took a step closer, his voice dropping low. “I’m the man who’s taking care of your daughter and the woman you walked out on. So, unless you’ve got something useful to say, I suggest you leave.”
There was a beat of silence, tension crackling in the air. My ex stared at Jensen, clearly trying to decide if he wanted to push the issue, but something in the way Jensen stood—calm, steady, unflinching—made him think twice. With a scoff, he turned his back on us, muttering under his breath as he walked away.
I stood there, my heart racing, watching as he disappeared into the night. It wasn’t until he was completely out of sight that I let out the breath I’d been holding.
Jensen turned to me, his eyes softening as he took my hand. “You okay?”
I nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. “Yeah... I just can’t believe he showed up like that.”
Jensen pulled me into his arms, holding me tight. “He won’t bother you again, sweetheart. I’ll make sure of it.”
I melted into his embrace, feeling safe in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. “Thank you,” I whispered against his chest, my voice shaky with emotion.
Jensen kissed the top of my head, his hand stroking my back. “You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. I’m here for you. For both of you.”
Later that night, I stood by the window, staring out at the street, still shaken from earlier. My ex’s sudden appearance had dredged up so many emotions—anger, hurt, fear. Even though he was gone, the memory of his harsh words lingered like a dark cloud over the perfect day we had spent at the zoo.
I hated that he had this power over me, even now. I hated that he could show up and stir up all that hurt after being absent for so long. He had no right to disrupt our lives like this, especially not after everything I had built with Aria on my own. And now, with Jensen in the picture, things were different. We were different.
I felt strong, but in moments like this, that strength wavered.
“Hey,” Jensen’s voice was soft as he walked up behind me, his arms slipping around my waist. I leaned back against him, closing my eyes and letting the warmth of his body calm the storm inside me. “You’ve been quiet since he left.”
I sighed, my heart heavy. “I just can’t stop thinking about him—how he thinks he can just show up and disrupt everything. It’s like he thinks he has some right to Aria, when he’s never been there for her. Or for me.”
Jensen turned me around to face him, his eyes filled with understanding. “I get it, babe. He walked away when you needed him the most, and now he wants to pretend he’s entitled to something. But he’s not. He doesn’t get to just come in and make demands.”
I looked up into his eyes, grateful for the reassurance, but still, a part of me couldn’t shake the fear. “What if he tries to come back again? What if he causes trouble? I don’t want Aria to be hurt by him.”
Jensen’s expression hardened, his jaw tightening. “He won’t, I promise you that. I won’t let him near you or Aria. He had his chance, and he blew it. I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”
The intensity in his voice sent a wave of comfort through me. I believed him. I always did. Jensen wasn’t just saying those words—he meant them. Every touch, every look, every moment we’d shared had proven that he wasn’t going to leave. Not like my ex had.
I reached up, brushing my fingers along his jaw, feeling the stubble beneath my touch. “I’m so glad you’re here,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.
Jensen leaned down, his lips brushing against mine. The kiss started soft, but there was something deeper there—something more urgent. His hands tightened around my waist, pulling me closer, and I felt that familiar spark ignite between us.
“You have no idea how much love you, Y/N,” he murmured against my lips, his breath warm as his hands slid up my sides, teasing the edge of my shirt. “Every time I look at you, I fall harder.”
My heart raced, the weight of his words sinking in as his mouth moved to my neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses down to my collarbone. His touch was intoxicating, making me forget everything but him—forget the pain, forget the fear.
“I love you too,” I breathed, my fingers tangling in his hair as I pressed my body against his. “Jensen…”
He lifted me easily, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carried me toward the bedroom, his lips never leaving mine. The air between us was charged with that electric pull, that undeniable need that had been building since the moment we met.
Once inside the room, he laid me down on the bed, his body hovering over mine as his gaze locked onto me with a fierce intensity. “You’re mine, baby. All of you. I’m never letting you go.”
I shivered at the possessiveness in his voice, feeling the heat in my core build as his hands slid down my body, tugging at the hem of my shirt before pulling it over my head. “I don’t want you to,” I whispered, my breath catching as he kissed me again, deeper this time.
Every kiss, every touch was filled with that unspoken promise—that no matter what happened, Jensen was here to stay. And as his hands roamed my body, exploring every inch of me with a burning desire, I knew that he was right. We were building something real, something lasting, and no one—especially not my ex—could take that away from us.
Jensen’s POV
Watching Y/N underneath me, her lips swollen from our kisses, her breath coming in soft, ragged gasps, I knew there was no turning back. I’d never felt anything like this before—this all-consuming need to be with someone, to protect them, to make sure they knew just how much they meant to me.
She looked up at me, her eyes dark and full of trust, and it hit me right then and there—I didn’t want to spend another day without her. I wanted to be the man she and Aria could rely on for the rest of their lives.
“Y/N,” I murmured, my hands sliding down to her hips as I kissed her again, slower this time, savoring the way her body responded to mine. “There’s something I’ve been thinking about.”
Her eyes fluttered open, her breath catching as she looked up at me. “What is it?”
I paused for a moment, feeling the weight of the moment settle in my chest. I’d never done this before, but with her, it felt right. Hell, it felt like the only thing that made sense.
I sat up, pulling her with me until we were both sitting on the edge of the bed. Her shirt was gone, and her hair was a mess, but she looked so damn beautiful, it took my breath away. I reached into the pocket of my jeans, my heart pounding in my chest as I pulled out the small box I’d been carrying around for days, waiting for the right moment.
“This,” I said softly, holding up the box, “is what I’ve been thinking about.”
Y/N’s eyes widened, her hand flying to her mouth as she stared at the box in my hand. “Jensen…”
I opened it, revealing the simple yet elegant ring inside. “I know it’s fast. I know we haven’t been together for that long, but I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. You and Aria… you’re everything to me. I want to be here for you, every day, for the rest of our lives.”
Tears filled her eyes as she looked from the ring to me, her lips trembling. “Jensen…”
“I love you, Y/N. I love Aria. I want to build a life with you, and I’m asking you to marry me. To let me be the man who takes care of you, who protects you, and who loves you for the rest of my life.”
For a moment, she was silent, her hand still covering her mouth as tears streamed down her cheeks. My heart raced, waiting for her answer, but the look in her eyes told me everything I needed to know.
“Yes,” she whispered, her voice breaking as she smiled through the tears. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Relief and joy surged through me as I slipped the ring onto her finger, pulling her into my arms. I kissed her deeply, pouring every ounce of love I had into that kiss, knowing that from this moment on, everything was about to change.
She was mine, and I was hers. Forever.
Reader’s POV
And in that moment, I knew without a doubt that he meant every word. Jensen wasn’t just part of my life—he was part of our family, and nothing, not even Aria’s dad, could change that.
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Authors Note:
Hope you enjoyed this part because I certainly enjoyed writing it! The way Jensen stepped in to protect her from Aria’s dead beat dad like 🥵Y’all they’re gonna get married!!! 🥰🥹😭😭 Let me know if you want me to write the wedding/honeymoon part! 🫶🏻
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haveihitanerve · 1 day
Text
Cardigan
my contribution for Batman Day
It wasn't supposed to end like this. 
Stranded on a planet, a million miles from earth, with a broken ship and a Lantern who flew off three hours and twenty seven minutes ago, and all Bruce can think is “It wasn't supposed to end like this.” He’s supposed to be Batman right now. He’s supposed to be fixing the ship, maybe catch Hal on his way back. Instead, he’s Bruce, just Bruce, sitting on the rocky outcrop of what appears to be a cliff, legs propped up, arms folded over them, watching the seven suns set. The wrench is laying back by the ship. 
He isn't even sure, entirely, how he ended up so far away, sitting here. But he can’t bring himself to stand up, to walk away. To even look away, at this point. “You would’ve loved it.” He murmurs, quietly, to himself. He knows he doesn't have long, the oxygen levels here are lower than on Earth. And at this point, Hal won’t make it back in time. Maybe, if he had kept his mask on, it might be different. Bruce doesn't mind. He doesn't care. 
His eyes drift over the four separate suns, sighing contently. The planet is some sort of red giant, dusty and purple and red and beautiful, really, is all Bruce can come back to. And, how much his children would have loved to see it.
The purple rocks stain his hands, and he can’t help but think of Stephanie, how she once stained his hands purple too, with glitter though, not rock.
He knows that it’ll be a shock for Hal to find Bruce Wayne here, instead of Batman. And he knows everyone would expect him to be thinking of his parents. As his last thoughts. But, they're faded. In the back of his mind. 
Bruce can’t look back right now, for some reason, when for his whole life it was all he did. Batman, the Wayne Foundation, all of it was for the past. For what could have been if his parents had lived. But now? Now all Bruce can think of is Dick. 
All he can think of is how his oldest son is going to have to decide if he’s going to be Batman, or if he’s going to reveal Bruce’s identity. If he’ll reveal his connection to him.  All he can think of is how he and Jason never really recovered, not really. That he never managed to tell his son he misses him. That he loves him. He told him, of course. But he regrets all the missed opportunities he would have in the future. He misses the fact that Jason has, so far, never believed him. And now probably never will.  All he can think of is how he never told Tim enough times how proud he is. How amazing Timmy is. How grateful he is that his little boy forced his way into his life. How he’s left the company to him. Because Tim was always better at all that than Bruce. Than anyone else.  All he can think is how Barbara will never know she’s the reason he’s managed to hold on as long as he has. She was there, for everything. Through Dick leaving, through Jason, through Tim. Through all of it, she was the one in his ear, reprimanding him for getting too violent, reminding him to eat, scolding him for not using proper manners.  All he can think is how he won’t be there for Cass’s dance recital next week. How he won’t get to hear her grow more comfortable with her own voice over her body.  All he can think about is Damian, his little boy. How Dick and Jason and Tim and Barbara, will have to step up and raise his son. How he’ll never get to see his son grow up. 
All Bruce can think about, as he watches the suns dip beneath the horizon, is how much joy his children brought to his life. And how he’s now broken his promise. 
“Come back home.” Dick whispered. “Come back home.” Barbara whispered. “Come back home.” Jason whispered. “Come back home.” Tim whispered. “Come back home.” Cass whispered. “Come back home.” Steph whispered. “Come back home.” Damian whispered.
“I will.” He promised, every time. Without fail. A promise, an oath. His solemn vow to them. To each of his partners. Not sidekicks. Partners. His equals in every way. The ones who had shown his joy and wonder and had given him laughter and life. They had drawn stars around his scars, had brightened his world. 
No, as Bruce stares out across the darkening planet, he does not reflect on the past, on what was, on what could have been with his parents. He thinks of the suns that brightened his world, and what a shame, what an absolute shame it is, that they won’t have him orbiting them anymore. He regrets that much, at least. The repetition of the past. No more willing, but he’s leaving them nonetheless. 
“It wasn't supposed to end like this.” The words echo around the deserted, dark planet. A light breeze ruffles against the mans dark gray cardigan. A green light comes a few hours later, illuminating the world like a flashlight. Its green, not red or gold or black or purple. And it is far too late.
....
okay that got wayyyyy dark wayyyy fast- literally imma share a bit of my thoughts with you- this was the reminder i wrote for myself for this-
Batman Day. Write him. just him. For the love of God only write about him. No focus on anyone else. As hard as it is because he’s defined by his family but none of them! Only him. No parents, no kids. Maybe parents. Origins. Write his origins. 
... like... clearly I failed. very clearly. But oh well my hands and my brain vs me are two different things so... I hope you enjoyed at least! :)
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not-5-rats · 2 days
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bodie, marco and/or timmy headcannons? maybe?
Hmmm okay, a please would be nice though /j, you didn't specify what kind of hcs sooooo you're getting silly ones :3
!!!Nonsense Gator Boys HCs ^^!!!
Bodie:
He is the only one that can navigate the swamps, nobody else has any clue where they're going
His posture is...not amazing, he's so used to bending down slightly when around Timmy...his posture has never been the same
He enjoys cooking with people, it's a nice way to spend time together
Dude would love Paddington, I feel no need to elaborate
An issue he has is his willingness to put others' needs above his own, it came out slightly when Bug arrived with their injured leg but it becomes very obvious when somebody he cares for is ill. He won't sleep, or look after himself properly because he needs to ensure they're doing alright.
He's fully prepared to die in the arena, he couldn't stand losing anybody else atp...he's ready to throw himself in dangers way at a seconds notice if it means everyone else will be alright
I don't think he could live with himself if he let anybody else die in the arena...if he lost the only people he had left, he'd probably lose himself as well
He has a vast knowledge on which fungi are edible and which aren't
Timmy:
Lost. He's constantly loosing his path, but he always finds his way back in the end
He spends most of his time climbing, whether it be trees, vines, piles of rocks, anything
Adding on to my last point, if you & him were together he would randomly drop from the trees and give you a lil kiss on the forehead/ cheek
Floor time - y'know when you're super burnt out and lie on your back, on the floor, just lie there for a few hours? Yeah that's Timmy
He doesn't always properly analyse the risks of certain activities, luckily he's nimble enough to often get out of these tight situations but he's received a couple injuries due to his impulsiveness
He's so overwhelmed right now, what the fuck is going on with his life. His parents are alive, his mother's a dragon, he's part dragon, Bodie's his uncle...everything is suddenly so different...he feels...lost
At points he wishes the Hunters had just went through with killing him when they found him...things would've been so much simpler then
He makes friendship bracelets, like the bead ones, he puts people's names on them
Marco:
Enjoys the rain, idc what you say, they're a rain lover
Why is Marco fruity? I can't quite put my finger on what type of fruit, but like...undeniably some sort of queer (I love them)
They would have had such an intense emo phase (which then evolved into kinda gothic adult)
They have like a mini museum in their bag, so many random things from such odd places, it's admirable
They could have stopped this from happening. Well maybe they could have, if they were around more maybe there was something they could have done that would've stopped Timmy from being taken...stopped this whole mess from happening
The guilt. It's fucking unbearable. Why did they constantly have to be gone, why couldn't they just stick around for 5 bloody minutes!
They want to change, they want to be there for their friends...but at this point, they feel like it's too late. Bodie and Timmy are so close and now it's revealed they're actually related!...is there even space for Marco anymore...are they even wanted at this point?
They like frogs
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barcaatthemoon · 2 days
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blades || caroline harvey x reader ||
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KK watches you skate.
"Are you listening to me?" you asked KK, already knowing the answer. She had a tendency to daydream around you. It wasn't that she didn't care about what you were saying, just that she got easily distracted. You knew that Leila and almost every single one of her teammates made fun of KK for it. "Caroline!"
"I'm paying attention, I swear!" KK exclaimed. You rolled your eyes and pressed a kiss to her forehead as you got up. "Where are you going? You just got here. The girls aren't even over yet."
"I have practice at 6. I told you that I wouldn't be here for the girls," you told her. KK's face fell immediatley. She had hoped that you would be able to hang out so that she could watch you practice.
You were on an athletic scholarship as well, but yours was for figure skating. KK had been in awe of you the first time she had ever seen you skate. She felt like everything she did was a hack job in comparison to you. That was before she had even seen a single one of your routines. All she had seen was you doing your warm up laps, and from that moment on, she swore that she had fallen for you.
"I wanted to watch today," KK whined. You really didn't want her to blow off her friends for you, but ultimately, it was her decision. You had always been afraid of being one of those girlfriends who caused problems in their significant other's friendships. "How long are you going to be going?"
"Probably pretty late, like midnight or so. If you want to come by later, you can," you told her. KK was absolutely beaming at that. You left her dorm not expecting to see her for a couple of hours at the very least, but you weren't even an hour into your practice when she came in with some of her teammates.
"We have to be quiet, so she can focus," KK told them. Leila was on live, occasionally flipping the camera so that everybody could watch you. KK was so proud of you, talking about you to anybody who would listen. You were on your way to being an Olympian, and KK couldn't wait to watch you win your first medal in 2026. You were already winning almost every single competition you went to.
"You are so in love with her," Lacey said as she nudged KK. You could see them out of the corner of your eye, but you kept your focus on your routines. Your coach had brought you a few suggestions, so you were trying them out. Most of the moves didn't feel right as you practiced them, but you could hear KK cheering you on from the stands.
She was, and would always be, your loudest supporter. Any time that you needed reassurance or a confidence boost, you'd go to KK. It didn't matter that KK had essentially sat there for hours, she cheered the whole practice. Bit by bit, her friends had dispersed and gone home, but KK stayed the whole time. You had planned on walking back to your place, but KK was most likely going to end up driving and staying the night.
"I don't get it," KK said as you skated over towards her. You wanted to try one of the moves one more time, but you needed to take a drink first. It was getting really late, and you didn't want to keep KK up knowing that she had an 8AM class the next day.
"You don't get what?"
"How you do that. I mean, I've been on skates my whole life, but you're so graceful and perfect. It's like you were made to skate and I just stuck knives onto my shoes." You frowned as KK glanced down. As much as you liked having her at your practices, it often ended like this. "If you had stuck with hockey, you'd be skating rings around everyone."
"No, I wouldn't. I tried hockey, and while I was good on skates, I can't take a hit. I'm not tough like you," you told her. KK blushed at the compliment, and the blush only deepened when you grabbed onto her bicep. "Let's get out of here. I want to watch a movie or something."
"Are you sure?" KK asked. You nodded, and KK was quick to help you over the barrier. She made you sit down as she unlaced your skates and gathered your practice bag for you. The two of you walked out of the arena together, and all you could think about was how perfectly you complimented each other as you caught your reflections in the window. "Will you show me something next time?"
"I will, but you're not shooting pucks at me again," you told her. KK laughed at the memory, which she had been shocked you even agreed to in the first place. Technically, it had been Lacey and Leila's idea, but KK had been the one to ask if you'd come with them and practice. You hadn't done terrible, but you were deathly afraid of the puck even in the maximum amount of padding they could manage for you.
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