#if his wife had lived on then they might have just popped out babies to roll for a crest like the rest of em

[the-suns-beloved]

sometimes I have thoughts about niccolo....

[kissitbttr]

pregnancy was never easy. if it was, fathers could do it.

and truly it was something that toji had learned throughout being married to you and seeing your belly swell with your baby girl. the constant mood swings, back pains, cravings and all. but toji is a wonderful husband. for that, he wouldn’t change it for the world.

anything you want, you get even if your midnight cravings hit. toji will still get up and get dressed before drive to the nearest store that has your favorite red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting.

but being pregnant also means that toji has gotten far more protective than usual. more staying by your side, more checking up on you through his phone, more hiring security cameras and guards to keep you safe. despite your protests, he still thinks it’s necessary.

“sweethea—what the heck?” toji grumbles, eyes almost popping out of his sockets to see you’re not beside him. eyes glancing left and right and that’s where the panic begins to seep into him. “fuck” he scrambles out of the bed, seeing the clock hits at two am,

“no, no, no—“ he feels bead of sweats racing on his temples before slipping on his shoes and a shirt over his head. thinking that something might have happened to you.

god, i can’t go through this. not again. not you. please, please, not you.

toji may not have been the most religious man that has ever walked on earth. but he will beg on his knees and plead to the man up above to never take you away from him,

and just as he about to grab a gun off his safe, he hears the refrigerator door shut downstairs. the sounds making him halt as he quick to whip his head to the source of it.

his eyebrows then furrowed, putting the weapon down carefully before stepping out of your shared room. sometimes he curses himself for buying a home far too big because now he feels like it’s an eternity coming down the stairs. but again, he bought it for you.

the living room lights are already turned off, the only dimmed light he could see is from the kitchen. not only that, but he could hear the metals clinking. so slowly, with ever so confusion written across his face, toji approaches slowly

and there you are ever in your glory, body draped in your favorite pink silky robe sitting on the floor with your back against the fridge. a plate of not one but two red velvet cake slice in your hand as the other forks your way through the delicious treat.

toji heaves out a breathe of relief, knowing that nothing had happened to you. and the noise is loud enough for you to stop chewing and look up. eyes widen at your husband’s figure standing only a few feet away,

“hi” your voice sounds small. almost like embarrassed because you feel like a kid who got caught stealing a cookie off the jar,

“sweetheart” the nickname falls from his mouth like he’s happy to see you after being a part for so long. “what are you doing?”

your mouth slowly begin to chew, a cute smile making its way as your eyes glinting with innocence that toji can’t deny but feel like he’s falling in love with you all over again.

“the baby is hungry” is the only thing you can muster to a response, like it’s an obvious thing. “she wants cake” you giggle quietly,

oh yes, he is definitely falling harder for you again

“the baby is—“ he sighs, hands coming up to rub his face up and down. not because he’s upset but rather amused. “she wanted red velvet cake?”

“mhmm!” you nod vigorously, taking another big bite of the dessert. “and cream cheese frosting!”

and for the first time in a while, toji laughs with his head shaking at the sight of his beautiful wife eating cake at two am. “she told you that?”

“yes! i heard her whisper to me before i go to bed ‘mama.. can we eat the cake? but wait until dada goes to sleep’ because she knows how dada doesn’t allow mama to eat cakes” you smile at him, doing your best of baby voice. licking the cream off the utensil,

toji is grinning so hard he feels like his cheeks are hurting, his eyes are full of love when he looks at you and the little girl you’re growing in there,

“well dada is just taking care of mama so she will be healthy. she needs veggies and whole foods” he takes another step closer, sliding next to you. his eyes never leaving yours, looking at you so lovingly by the way you eat. “i thought something happened to you.. i was panicking”

you pout, not wanting to cause anymore distress on him. “i’m sorry i shouldn’t have done that. but i couldn’t wake you up, you looked exhausted”

he frowns, bending his knees close to his chest. “you should’ve. i would gladly grab the cake for you hence you asked, baby” he leans forward and kiss your temple,

a grateful smile places on your lips, humming in a contentment at the feeling of his soft mouth on your skin. “hmm, i know—“ you cradle his cheek with your free palm, thumbing against his cheekbone and down to his scar.

he used to be so insecure about it until you made him not to be. giving so much praises and kisses about the scar that you think look so hot on him.

“want some?” you extend a spoonful of the cake towards his mouth, in which he opens almost immediately, biting onto the sweet goodness. “how lucky i am to have you, mr. y/l/n”

he laughs, wiping the walnut crumbs off the corner of his lips. “i should be the one saying that to you, doll”

maybe second chances do exist. and it’s a privilege for a person to earn one. toji may had done very questionable things in the past that would make a person think twice in befriending him, let alone married to him but change is real.

and the flaws are what makes it him. it’s one of the reason you are drawn to this beautiful man. because despite every negative seed he may have in him, he still tries. trying and trying to be the person you deserve and the father that your baby girl deserve.

it upsets you to no end knowing that everyone can’t see that. they just see him as a cold, reserved, selfish man who keeps himself closed from the world to see. they don’t see the tears he had shed almost every night for failing to be perfect, they don’t see him having a small banter with you because he wanted to take your last name, they don’t see the amount of times he locked himself in his room because of people talkinh, they don’t see him always rushing out of his office on fridays because he wants to get home before you do just so he can cook your favorite dish,

they don’t see all of that but toji doesn’t care. he doesn’t need their validation nor approval. he just needs yours.

because it’s you he always comes home to. you are his salvation. you are his peace. you are his dream came true.

you, you, you, you.

before you could protest, he presses his lips against yours and move his hand down to your bump,

“happy doesn’t even begin to describe how grateful i am to be your husband”

[emeritusemeritus]

Charming Witches [Fred Weasley]

Title: Charming Witches [Fred Weasley]

Pairing: PregnantWife!Reader x Fred Weasley, background Hermione X Ron.

Timeline: Set after canon (Fred lives!)

Summary: Ron has an embarrassing issue and unluckily for him, Fred is the only one that can help.

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, babies, established relationships. Sexual references throughout. Fred has a bit of a breeding kink- shock. Just a silly little drabble I couldn’t get out of my mind. Fred is a bit mean and sarcastic to Ron.

Word count: 1.6k

"You're, you know... well, sort of, um."

"You'll get there eventually Ronald," Fred jokes with a straight face, half listening to his brother's whispered fumbles whilst he pours himself and his wife a drink, not bothering to offer his youngest brother one. If Fred had even bothered to look at Ron's face, he'd have seen he was as pink in the cheeks as a bottle of love potion, his blush so vivid that he looked ready to erupt with a face full of dragon pox any moment.

Ron clears his throat, trying again, as he casts a nervous glance around the Burrow's kitchen, checking no one was hearing this. He didn't know why he'd chosen Fred of all people to have this conversation with, in theory George would have been a much better choice but he didn't have the same 'qualifications' as his twin, seeing that you and Fred had been together for absolutely years.

"Well, umm," he freezes under Fred's quick but glance, silently telling him to spit it out. "Well you and y/n, you're in sync aren't you... Sexually?"

Whatever Fred was expecting to hear eventually tumble out of his brother's mouth was not even close to the reality and he can't stop his eyebrows from shooting halfway up his forehead instinctively in disbelief.

"Did my very pregnant wife give it away?" He snarks, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of the beer he'd poured, openly enjoying the discomfort his brother was radiating. "That might have been your first clue."

Ron somehow looks paler underneath all the blushing and Fred is revelling in his ability to make his brother squirm.

"Well, yeah I suppose," Ron mumbles, beginning to get defensive and deeply regretting opening up to the trickier twin.

"Calm down Ronald," Fred says, "you and Granger having bedroom troubles?"

"No!" Ron bites back a little too quickly but his resolve breaks under a few seconds of Fred's probing gaze, arms folded in an unconscious power stance. "Maybe."

He's quiet again for a few moments and Fred is uncharacteristically patient whilst he waits for Ron to collect his thoughts.

"How many times would you say is normal, like in a week?"

"Don't know if there's a 'normal' Ronniekins," Fred says with a shrug. "Most days and twice on a Sunday?"

Though he hides it this time, Fred revels in the look of utter horror Ron's eyes convey and it's like he can see the cogs in his brain working on overdrive, emitting smoke as they crumble and break. Evidently, his answer was light years away from what Ron had hoped for. He knows that his wife being ready to pop at any second only helps Ron believe his words and he mentally thanks Godric Gryffindor himself for the overly fortunate timing.

"Don't think it matters mate really; as long as you're both expecting about the same." This time, Fred actually thinks he's being reassuring.

"She just wants to read all the bloody time, even in bed! It's like I'm a bloody afterthought."

"Have you even met your girlfriend?"

This time it's Fred who pauses when he meets the icy glare of his younger brother. He sighs and a slightly awkward silence falls between the pair as they both try to think of how to fix whatever was going on in Ron's mind, hoping that two head were better than one.

"You two alright?"

Ron jumps out of his skin when he hears your slightly concerned greeting upon seeing the two brothers, Fred especially, in near silence.

"Don't tell me you forgot I was here," you joke to Ron, walking over to Fred as he holds out your waiting drink. "Been your sister in law for five years! Plus the bump makes me pretty memorable," you add with a smile.

"I'll say," Fred says with a wink, the cheeky glint in his eyes ever more sparkling as he looks at your bulging tummy, unashamedly ogling your pregnant form. You gently nudged him, silently telling him to be quiet but as you do so, you catch a slightly glare aimed at your husband from Ron.

"Am I interrupting? " You ask outright, sensing tension.

"No," says Fred almost immediately.

"A bit," Ron admits, cringing slightly before he lets out a loud yelp, having been smacked upside the back of the head by his older brother for his disrespect. He grumbles slightly under his breath, absently rubbing the back of his head where Fred's hand had connected to him and let's put a deep sigh.

"You're a girl," he says, averting his eyes anywhere except directly on your own.

Fred snickers at Ron's feeble and clumsy attempt at starting the conversation but opts to take a long swig of his beverage to avoid anymore laughter spilling out, though his delight still shines through his eyes.

"Only when it's not a full moon," you jest, trying to slice through the awkwardness Ron is emitting.

"Forget it, you're as bad as he is."

"Firstly I'm offended," you say, reaching out for his arm gently as you feel his begin to pull away, ignoring your husband's opposition. "Secondly, yes I'm a girl... go on."

"Well," he pauses, gathering courage, long ginger lashes covering his shy eyes that still raise no further than your ankles, "say Fred suddenly didn't want sex."

"Wouldn't happen."

"Fred shush."

"Well... say suddenly he wanted to read at nighttime over having sex."

"Again, wouldn't happen."

"Fred!" You hush him again, this time more firmly.

"How would you go about trying to, you know, fix it."

You were certain you'd never seen Ron this vividly pink in the cheeks before, he looked like he'd been decorated up to display in Umbridge's office.

"That's the problem? Hermione wants to read instead of sex?" You ask, not really seeing the big issue, but trying to say it gently so that you didn't spook him.

He nods, "but it's all the time," he adds, justifying his gripe.

"Well," you say, lowering yourself into Arthur's seat at the head of the kitchen table only a few feet away, unable to stand much longer. "Play her at her own game."

"Eh?" The brothers ask in sync, their faces scrunched into an almost identical confused expression. You simply shrug.

"Make yourself less available to her, pull back a bit," you say, taking a sip of your drink to wet your lips. "Start reading in bed just like she does, act like you're not interested in just sex."

"So I act like I'm not bothered even though I am?" He asks, still not following what you're saying.

"Sort of," you say, trying to find a better way of wording it.

"Reading's always been her favourite thing to do hasn't it? Join in on it. I'd bet on my life that she has a fantasy of you in bed shirtless reading beside her. Stop making advances, let her come to you."

"That's actually quite clever," he says after a few moments of consideration.

"It's been known."

"Shirtless?" He asks with a frown, seemingly fixating on that point.

You chuckle nodding, "well you have to still appeal to her, you don't want it to just be a study session do you?"

"Right, right," he says with a nod, a slight smile returning to his face before it dramatically falls away in an almost comedic move.

"I don't have a book."

"What do you mean you don't have a book?" Fred says in a flabbergasted manner, earning a slight but unconscious raise of your eyebrow. Though you didn't comment on the irony of his words considering you couldn't remember the last time you'd seen him so much as skim the daily prophet.

"I don't really have one," Ron mumbles quietly, "unless my quidditch annual counts."

"It doesn't," you say firmly.

"So I need a book," Ron says firmly, as if he was cementing the plan in his mind, nodding along with his thoughts until he finally makes eye contact. "Thanks y/n," he says with a smile and a nod of his head before he walks away, a bounce in his step.

"Think it's actually gonna work?" Fred asks as you pry yourself out of the chair and walk to stand next to him as you place your empty cup in the sink.

You let out a little chortle and shrug, "well if it doesn't, at least Hermione can read in peace."

Laughter bursts out of Fred and he pulls you close, bump nestled between you as he delights in your words, realising you had absolutely no idea if the plan would work.

Later that evening when everyone was preparing to leave the Burrow after another wonderful family dinner, Ron pulls you and Fred to one side before he left, away from the eyes and ears of everyone else.

"Thanks again for earlier," he says, clearly feeling more at ease about his issue. You smile warmly in reply, happy to help.

"No problem little brother," Fred beams, as if it was him that had offered any advice.

"Oi Ron," you call out quietly to get his attention as he turns to leave. With a smile, you reach down into the bag on your shoulder and pull out an item you'd gleefully searched for in Fred and George's old bedroom after the conversation. "Just incase my advice doesn't work."

Ron frowns reaching for the item you were handing him, a frown that only deepens as he reads the title of the book he was now holding. Fred's laughter is sudden and booming as his eyes land on the once familiar item that had him cracking up laughing, realising instantly what it was.

Twelve fail-safe ways to charm witches.

"Oh piss off."

Taglist part 1

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[sugurusdiscordmoderator]

Halo bby! <3

Do u perhaps take request? I have been thinking about husband!gojo who feels offended after wife!reader told him about how men can only ejaculate 3 times a day after after she saw it on facebook :3 So Satoru had to cum in wifey more than what she believes because the truth is better than rumours, right? 🤔

hi anon! my inbox is always open for requests (it just might take me a little to finish them lol)

Sorry I’ve been working on this for like 3 weeks lol, I am going to take a break from writing Gojo for a little after this though (:

I didn’t proof read this my apologies

MDNI

cw: smut lmao, handjob, 69, riding, missionary, doggy, daddy kink (oops), shower sex, etc.

—

You scroll through your Facebook feed, when an article from Cosmopolitan magazine pops up called “How To Make Your Man Orgasm Better”. You read through some of it, not really absorbing much until you see an actual doctor’s name listed as research for the article. I mean of course if there’s a penis doctor listed in this article it must be legit!

‘Generally, a person with a penis can orgasm no more than 3 times a day. It can become painfully overstimulating the penis after that I’m afraid. In fact over 80% of this study shows that the person with the penis could not go longer than one orgasm, and 95% could not continue after the second one. That leaves just 5% of the population able to orgasm a third time in a day. There is the possibility for an asymptote - a line that never actually reaches zero although approaching it rapidly after the number 3.’

After reading through the article you decide to scroll through the comments, reading about middle aged women’s sex lives and how their husbands are rather bad at being intimate.

But oh, you could not relate.

After all, you are married to the Satoru Gojo. As a newer married couple with no kids, the two of you fuck at least once a day, usually after work or before bed. You like to get a little more creative on weekends, with morning sex, shower sex, kitchen counter, couch (and just about any surface in the house he can bend you over he’s already fucked you on). You guys can have sex for hours, pulling multiple orgasms from you, but the most he’s ever came in a day is three! So that doctor must have been right.

Just then, your lovely husband Satoru comes home to your beautiful little house, strolling in with a smile on his face like usual. He sits his bag down and takes off his blindfold before making his way over to you and kissing the top of your head where you sit on the couch.

“Hi baby, how was your day?” he asks

“Good, I was just reading a medical article!” You giggle mischievously, getting up to join him in the kitchen with your phone in hand.

“You can read?!” He sarcastically responds, pretending to be shocked before coming up behind you to hug you. This time he kisses the side of your head near your temple, smelling your freshly done hair and you can smell the remnants of his cologne that he sprayed before leaving this morning. “What were ya reading baby?” He kindly asks, not joking this time.

“Well this doctor says guys can cum at most three times a day! And I was thinking about it and even when we stay in bed all day on the weekends having sex the maximum you’ve hit is 3 so it must be true!”

Your husband breaks out laughing, a truly angelic sound, but you’re not quite sure what he’s laughing at. He breaks your hug turning you around to face him with his hands on your shoulders.

“Oh. You actually weren’t joking.” He says reading the expression on your face.

“No babe. Here read it!” You shove your phone towards him with the article pulled up. He reads the same paragraph as above and makes a mental note of the doctors name and credentials and thinks about how he’s going to contact him once he proves this theory wrong.

“Oh, interesting babe. Since you’re so into these ‘medical’ articles you find on cosmopolitan, why don’t we test this theory for ourselves?”

You giggle and blush at his sentiment, still getting shy when initiating sex even after being together for 5 years! You close the distance between your bodies, wrapping your arms around your husbands neck and pulls him down for a kiss.

“Yes please” you whisper against his lips. Satoru deepens the kiss, taking control over you like always. He continues kissing you and backing you up until your back reaches the refrigerator. He plants kisses all over your face before moving down to your neck.

“Y’know, I think we’ll have to make me orgasm all different ways for it to count. Something about a control variable.” Satoru mumbles against your neck.

You’d protest but your pretty little head is thinking about the way his mouth is on your sensitive spot, too horny to shut him up. He pats the back of your thighs for you to jump into his grasp, and you do wrapping your legs around him like a koala. The two of you continue your passionate make out before heading to the bedroom.

Leading you to the gorgeous master bedroom satoru closes the door behind you even though nobody else is there. He begins unbuttoning his jacket and throws it on the floor followed by his undershirt and black jeans. He lays back, his stiff member pulling his boxer briefs tight as he looks over to you expectantly. You waltz closer to the bed, only wearing your matching silk tank top and short set that satoru bought multiple of and loves so much.

He bought every pastel color and loves when he can see your somehow always hardened nipples through the silky fabric. Today’s outfit was baby blue, which happened to be his favorite. Being Satoru’s housewife really isn’t so bad, he makes good money and takes care of you in every way. You just can’t help but be submissive to him when he asks you to wear certain things or cook a certain food. For this man, you threw feminism out the window, and oh how he knew that.

Satoru pulls you onto his lap, looking up at you with those stupidly beautiful eyes as he gently squeezes your hip. “Cmon princess let’s start this experiment,” he winks at you before helping you take off your tank top.

While yes, you play a submissive role in your relationship, he doesn’t always dominate you in the bedroom.

That being said, you roll off satoru so you are laying beside him, leaning to him to resume your steamy make out session.

“Mmm.. I love making out with you, we need to do this more,” he mumbles against your lips. You “mhm” in agreement before proceeding to enter your tongue into his mouth. One hand grips into his white locks while the other reaches down to rub his erection through his boxer briefs. He moans at your touch, reaching his slender arm around you and firmly grabs ahold of your ass, as if you would run away. Satoru takes over the kiss a little more, but as you’re still trying to be in control you stick your hand inside his underwear, rubbing your thumb against his slit.

You break the kiss so he can lower the underwear, before spiting on your hand to lube his shaft as your soft hand runs up and down. He shudders and rolls his eyes back, putting both of his hands behind his head, showing off his sculpted physique completed by the tufts of white hair on his armpits.

You try your best to talk dirty to your lover, being shy in bed like usual is not going to work if you want to make him cum more than 3 times.

“Such a pretty cock belonging to my pretty man”

Satoru knows he’s in for a wild ride when you start to talk seductively. It doesn’t happen often because while you’re vocal in bed… it doesn’t usually include words or full sentences. 😉

You keep eye contact with your lover while you rub your thumb in circles against his sensitive spot, on the back side of the shaft where it meets the head. He lets out a mixture of a whimper and moan while closing his eyes. You add the dripping precum to the tip of his cock will you rub him up and down just like he had shown you previously. He likes when you start towards the middle and rotate up and down, not too fast and not too slow, but not too much pressure and not too light of a touch. He openly told you before that you weren’t very good with the whole handjob concept even though you’re basically professional at everything else, and so he went into great detail, and now you can really make the man quiver.

You sit up, moving so you can use both hands, because his balls look just a little too neglected. You straddle his left leg, allowing him to feel your bare soaking pussy against him. He grunts at the new feelings, getting to be too much for him to handle.

“Baby please make me cum,” he whines as you start to grind yourself on his leg, matching the rhythm that you’re stroking his length. Your other hand gently caresses his full sack, you know he will be cumming so much tonight and you cannot wait.

“Satoru, baby, please? Cum for me?” You let out a small moan as he rubs his leg against you for some extra friction, which simply sends him over the edge. Looking into your big sweetly innocent eyes he shoots his seed all over his abs. Neither of you even look at his cock when he cums, too mesmerized by the lust contained within the eye contact.

Finally, you let go of his penis as he catches his breath with his eyes closed. You want to give him some time to recover but not too much, because it will mess up the variable data!

“My sweet, are you ready for more?” You ask innocently already devising a plan for what you’ll do to him next.

“Whatever you want princess,” he breathes out finally opening his eyes when he has caught his breath.

You try to remain confident as you shift your weight off of his leg and swing your body around.

“Can I sit on your face please baby?” You ask again sounding way too innocent for the words coming out of your mouth. Satoru lets out a moan at the unexpected question, his cock growing hard again.

“Please, fuck yes, please let me make you feel good,” Satoru begs, grabbing your legs to help you get adjusted.

“No baby, I want to face the other way.”

“Oh,” Satoru breathes out, knowing what is coming next.

You get adjusted, your warm soaking cunt hovering over your husbands mouth, thinking about how long it has been since you’ve done this position, surely it won’t take him long to reach peak number 2.

Satoru wastes no time diving in like a starved man. That is the thing about your husband, is he loves pleasuring you almost more than he likes being pleasured himself. Seeing and hearing and feeling you feel good drives him crazy, being the reason he loves sixty-nine so much.

Pulling out all the stops tonight you lean down, licking a strip down Satoru’s abdomen, the exact line where all of his previous cum was. You lick from the bottom of his pecs down the whole way until you reach the base of his dick, proceeding to lick a stripe up and wrap your lips around his tip.

“Oh my fucking god baby that was the hottest thing ever”

Now he really starts eating you out with a passion, tongue circling your clit before plunging in your hole. You attempt to match the bobbing of your mouth on his cock but he simply goes too fast. You come off his cock to let out a guttural moan of his name, which only eggs him on further.

“I’m - I’m not going to last long - ahhha - if you keep that up S’toruuu”

“Mhmmm,” he hums against your clit, knowing how good the vibrations feel for you.

You close your eyes before going back down on his cock, feeling him twitch as you messily tongue his tip.

“-m sensitive hmm” a muffled Satoru says but you don’t care. Using your previously covered in cum hand, you run up and down his shaft while moving down to suck on his balls. This sends toe curling electricity through his body, and he reaches his arm around your thigh so he can access your tight hole with his thumb. Sucking and licking while you feel his thick thumb being sucked into you. Being as turned on as you were, a first orgasm is almost instantly ripped from you, catching both of you off guard but you moan against Satoru’s balls. The combination of feeling you convulse against his thumb plus the sensitive state of his dick in your hand sends Satoru over the edge, but he at least gets to give you a warning.

“Cummin for ya again baby please take it all,” he says barely coherent being so overtaken by pleasure. You attach your lips back to his tip and finish sucking him off until you feel cum stop coming out. You try to get off of him as gracefully as you can, moving to lay down for a minute to give you both some air. You look at the lower half of his face as he licks his lips, and you hold out your tongue showing him you swallowed all of it.

“Cmere pretty girl,” he murmurs, wrapping his right arm around your shoulders and pulling your sweaty bodies close.

“Don’t get too comfortable my baby were only half done, at least,” you smile up at him and watch as he realizes you really weren’t kidding earlier.

Once you’ve recovered from your orgasm, you crawl back on top of Satoru, but this time straddling his pelvis, his semi-hard cock under you. He still looks a little out of breath, but you’re going to do all the work so he doesn’t need to worry right?

You grind your soft wet folds against his growing erection, “can I have it in my sweet pussy this time baby?” You ask doing your best to give him puppy eyes. His eyes roll to the back of his head, humping his hips up a little to give more friction.

“You can have anything you want Princess, you’re being such a vocal good girl t’night,” he sounds out of breath, whiney, and desperate as he watches you reach your hand down to line him up with you. You smile as you playfully rub his tip on your clit.

His hands cover his face, “please. Please stop teasing me, please baby,”

Without further notice you slip him inside, slippery from the previous orgasm Satoru ripped from you.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” he whispers before a porn like moan courses through him, “y/n I’m so sensitive, I don’t think I can do it!”

You slowly ride and grind up and down his shaft, one hand on his chest to support you, the other rubbing at your clit. “Please, daddy… for me?” You emphasize that word, knowing being called that drives your husband crazy.

Satoru’s large skinny hands find the squishy sides of your hips and he squeezes hard. Not that he meant to, but there will definitely be 10 small oval bruises on your ass and hips tomorrow.

“Say it again…” he moans.

“Say what again?” You smile innocently, batting your eyelashes. With that he lifts one hand off your hip and lashes out a spank on your ass check, making your tight hole clench down on him more.

“You know what I meant.” God, something just slightly feral comes out of Gojo when you play so innocent but also act so seductive for him, especially when he hears that word from your lips.

“Daddy, I need two more orgasms from you, please?” You whine as you find a particularly good spot that his cock is rubbing inside you. It’s like your words revived Satoru’s stamina, firmly grabbing your hips again before helping you lift off and on him at almost inhuman speed. Each thrust goes so deep in you, you think you feel it in your stomach. A few more hard thrusts and he is pulling you off of him, and pushing you straight back so your back is on the bed now. He hovers above you, reclaiming his dominance, before pushing back into you with both legs dangling off his shoulders. You know he is holding out as long as he can, but he’s going to want you to cum first so he can feel you clench around his cock and push him over the edge. He leans down kissing your lips, forehead, and cheek before whispering seductively, “such a good girlll,” while emphasizing the last two words with two particularly rough thrusts. He continues his praises inbetween licks and sucks on your neck

“You looked so pretty on top princess but I just had to have my way with you,” before he leans down to suck which will surely leave a hickey. When he comes back up for air he breathlessly groans,

“And you just taste so good and your throat knows my cock so well!” You think he may be slightly going insane and wonder if orgasm numbers 3 and 4 are necessary. Moaning with him, he knows you love his dirty talk because he can feel you squeeze his cock without trying.

Satoru fucks into you with relentless speed, causing your chest to bounce up and down, and all you can do is grip onto his shoulders and let your toes curl from pleasure.

“Mmm, daddy, g’na cum for you,” you barely breathe out, getting closer to the edge as your back arches off the bed. At this he puts your legs together and pushes them back towards you, knowing exactly how to hit your favorite spot in this position.

“Come on princess, cum for daddy, that’s it,” he groans, temporarily forgetting about his overstimulated cock while being so focused on your eyes rolled back and mouth hanging open in pleasure. Just a few more thrusts and he has you squeezing his dick so tight, he knows he won’t last much longer. Your orgasm hits you, not even able to control the beautiful sounds coming out of your mouth, face red, tears threatening to spill from pure bliss. Satoru slowed his pace to let you finish your orgasm before pounding into you harder than before

“Sa-tor-u” his name comes out of your mouth broken up not being able to catch your breath.

“I-I’m gonna - toru!” Being fucking into overstimulation has made you squirt all over Satoru’s cock and lower abdomen, which puts him over the edge, two more hard thrusts before he pauses, spilling his third load of the evening into your throbbing cunt.

His breathing heavy, sweat making his usually fluffy white hair stick to his forehead and his whole body seems to be glowing from the shine of sweat covering him. God you feel so bad for him but also do you really? As he’s said before “your pussy is heaven” so like it’s not really bad that you’re giving it to him…

“Let’s get you in the shower hun,” you whisper next to his ear, having plans for how you can get at least one more orgasm out of him. Still huffing, he gets up and his glorious skinny body looks so beautiful you feel yourself getting horny again. At least you weren’t as tired as your husband!

You set out 3 fluffy clean towels from the linen closet and turn the shower on a good temperature. Satoru has his arms wrapped around you from behind as you both wait for the water to warm up. “I love you,” he says, kissing the top of your head.

“Love you too, Toru” you smile up at him, turning around in his grasp. You kiss him sensually slowly at first, on your tippy toes gently rubbing your fingers along his cheek and neck. You deepen the kiss, knowing exactly how your husband loves it. He reaches down, each hand grabbing each ass cheek and squeezing before giving you a light spank, causing you to giggle.

“Naughty girl, still haven’t had enough?” He asks down to you. Without responding you gently wrap your had around him and pull him into your beautiful giant shower. The water is perfectly hot , making your eyes roll back in relaxation. You pull Satoru under the water taking care of him first. He turns into your big baby, leaning down to let you shampoo his hair and wash his body. When you get to clean his pelvis area you gently lather his soft penis with soap. He whimpers just from you touching it, but you have to clean it! Next you fondle his balls, massaging the soap in. His erection slowly starts to grow again and you know orgasm number 4 won’t be too far away.

“My turn,” you say looking up at him and turning around so you ass rubs up against his hardening member.

Satoru pumps a generous amount of your fancy smelling body wash onto your pink loofa, his frontside still pressed up against your backside. His long arms maneuver around your smaller frame, using all his energy to make sure he washes you in every hard to reach spot, only detaching himself when he had to wash your back and ass. He ignores the boner that impossibly came back after cumming 3 times already, and thought you didn’t notice.

He opts to hang the loofa back up and uses his hands to sensually rub the soap in, starting with your tits, although they needed no extra attention. Your nipples have always been sensitive in the best way, so when he starts rubbing them you can’t help but feel your core heat up again.

“Spread your legs hun,” he whispers, barely able to hear it over the running water. You do as satoru tells you, and he runs his hands down from your chest to your folds, making sure the area is soapy and clean. Your eyes close, leaning your head back against his chest while he massages your slightly tender pussy.

You take this opportunity to reach behind you, grabbing your husbands hardened shaft, and lining it up with your slick cunt.

“Baby…” he groans, voice laced with concern.

“Shhh, it’s okay I’m going to take care of you,” you answer back and with that, push yourself back onto his cock. You both moan in unison at the connection, like a melody between the differences in your voices. You can tell Satoru is tired by his rather lazy thrusts, so you hold onto the shower wall in front of you, fucking yourself back onto him. He is back there whining and groaning uncontrollably, being such a trooper for letting you do this experiment on him.

He puts his hand over yours on the wall, while snaking his other around your waist and under you to rub at your swollen clit. Immediately when he touches it you gasp, not realizing just how sensitive it was from this evening’s fun.

“-hmygod, don’t squeeze me like that,” Satoru whimpers, you turn your head to the side to see his eyes squeezed shut, a blush covering his whole face and chest, and his abs flexing over and over.

Seeing your hot husband so worked up is just the ammunition you needed to finish this last round. You ask him to sit on the little stone bench you have in the shower, which the two of you don’t utilize enough. He sits and you turn around, reverse cowgirl, and bounce up and down with as much energy as you can.

You didn’t even realize how loud your own moans had gotten, his hands on your waist, with yours resting on his knees.

“Please Satoru, let go for me, cum for me please,” you babble and moan with your head empty. Satoru is completely pussy drunk and fucked out in a way you’ve never seen him before.

“Love you ‘Toru,” you moan out as you reach your last peak and the combination of words and friction send him over the edge. He nearly convulses, gripping your hips to the point it actually kind of hurts. No moans, whimpers, or grunts can even come out of his mouth at this point, his jaw is just slack and eyes pressed shut.

You still on his lap, he leans forward and presses his head against your shoulder, and you think you may have made him pass out.

“Babe, cmn, let’s get you out of the shower.” You stand up turning around to see your husband in all his glory, looking half dead on the shower bench with his cock softened and red. You give him and yourself one more rinse over to get the last rounds residue off and turn the water off. You help Satoru stand, although nearly a head above your height, he wraps his arms around your shoulders and lets you guide him out. You wrap his fluffy extra large towel around him and he slowly grabs the edges, just standing there letting water drip off and making no attempt to dry himself. You wrap your hair in a towel, and quickly dry your body off, tired yes, but not nearly as worn out as your husband.

You look over to him, head thrown back, holding onto the towel. You decide to pamper him for the rest of the evening, drying him off, putting his usual hair product in for him, helping him put on a clean pair of boxer briefs and crawl into bed. It’s not even 8 pm and the sun is just starting to set, you giggle but he hasn’t eaten dinner since being home from work. For christs sake he hasn’t had dessert either. He rolls onto his side scrolling through his phone as you get yourself dressed and brush through your hair.

You kiss his forehead and he tiredly smiles up at you. “Thank you babe,” you whisper, “you helped me prove that article wrong.”

His eyes roll jokingly, “well thanks to your damn article I don’t think my dick is going to work for a few days, so who’s loss is it really?”

You ignore his question, “do you want takeout babe? Are you hungry?”

“Can I just have ice cream..?” He squints up at you like a kid asking their parent to have dessert without finishing their vegetables.

“I guess..” it’s your turn to roll your eyes at him, “stay here I know how you like it.” That brings a smile to his face, snuggling into your cozy bed.

You leave the room to head to the kitchen and Satoru goes back on his phone. He googles the doctors name from the article that he noted to himself earlier and finds the email address.

Dear Doctor Yeager,

Please note that my partner and I experimented after reading your article, and I would like to inform you I am an outlier, and finished four times before nearly passing out. If you would like to do any tests on me please let me know.

- world famous Satoru Gojo

he pushes the send button as you walk back in with his ice cream.

[pantherxrogers]

Pookie since you’ve made a sugar daddy Yunho version, might as well do a Seonghwa. Plss pookie 😩😩 I’m on my knees. 💵💵💳💳I’m begging youu

blurb: sugar daddy!Seonghwa x fem!reader

🖤 pairing: seonghwa x fem!reader

🖤 warnings: slight angsty, reader is kinda bratty, mostly fluffy/cute, a little suggestive

🖤 summary: even though she failed her driver's license exam, Seonghwa can't help but spoil his wife 🤭

🖤 a/n: POOKIE!!!! I’m so sorry that this took so long 😭 it’s been a busy week for me. I hope you love it! Thanks for your request! 😘

Seonghwa gives husband material, so he's a sugar husband lmao. Enjoy!! ☺️

my masterlist

This is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent real events or the actual personalities of any K-pop idols mentioned. All characters and situations are purely imaginary. This story is created for entertainment purposes only, and no harm or disrespect is intended toward the idols or their fans. Enjoy!

The soft chime of the alarm system makes your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You nestle further into the duvet, ashamed to face Seonghwa.

But, of course, your husband already knows. His heart aches when he sees you, a ball under the covers, used tissues littered across the silk sheets.

"Hi jagi, you okay?" He hums, sitting next to your swaddled form.

"I am an idiot." It comes out muffled, your face buried in the bedding. The rational part of you knows he'd never be upset with you, but you can't help feeling ashamed.

"You're the smartest person I know," he coos, slowly pulling the covers away from your face. His heart shatters when he takes in your features.

Your eyelids are slightly puffy, obviously caused by tears. Your lively curls are smushed down, a blatant sign that you've been in here for hours, stewing in your despair.

"I'm an adult who failed a driver's license exam," you cry out, feeling the tears well up again.

"You're my sweetheart who failed a very difficult driving exam in a foreign country," he tries to reason with you, wanting to take away your sadness.

“I’m never going to be able to drive anywhere,” you sob, nestling further into Seonghwa’s warmth. He pulls you into his lap, his suit be damned.

He almost chuckles to himself, knowing that you won’t be driving anywhere regardless. Your personal driver takes you wherever you please, but he knows how important this is to you. So, it’s important to him too.

The only sound in the bedroom are your soft cries and sniffles. Seonghwa’s hands draw slow circles on your back, doing his best to comfort you. Of course it’s working.

He’s always had a naturally calming energy. It’s what drew you to him in the first place. Eventually, your breaths level out, chest rising and falling in time with his firm one.

“I've got an idea,” he murmurs, standing up while cradling you in his arms.

“Hwa, I don't feel like shopping right now,” you cry out, hiding your face in his neck. Inhaling his cologne is almost like a grounding exercise. The woody, clean scent brings you comfort.

“I know, baby. I know.��� He’s walking you down the hallway now, towards the front door of your estate.

"Then, where are you going?" you mumble, not in the mood to fully articulate anything. Normally, shopping would be a quick fix, but not even a new pair of shoes can help you now.

He ignores your question, still making the long journey towards the front door. Finally, arriving at the bottom of the marble staircase, his heart leaps in anticipation of the surprise. He's sure this will be able to pull you out of your funk.

“Fine, ignore me then,” you grumble, but sink further into his hold. It’s nice to have a change of scenery, even if he is just walking you through your home.

“You smell good, jagi,” he hums, making a show of sniffing your neck, inciting your giggles. “Maybe I should just take you back to the bedroom,” he grunts.

“Well, now I want to know what you were planning!” You huff, knowing he’s joking but also wanting to see this surprise. He chuckles in response, finally reaching the front door handle.

Once outside, Seonghwa gently places you on your feet, your Versace slippers protecting you from the hot stone. “I can’t see,” you whine out, already feeling agitated from the heat.

Seonghwa instinctively raises his hand above your brow, shielding you from the sunlight. The simple gesture warms your heart, prompting you to place a kiss on his shoulder.

It takes a while for your eyes to adjust to the bright day light, but Seonghwa’s makeshift shade speeds up to process.

He falters when you let out a high pitched shriek, chasing after your smaller form running towards the new car in your driveway.

“You got me a PORSCHE 911?!” You exclaim, eyes locked on the smooth, red paint. It’s the car of your dreams. Sporty, sexy, sleek and perfect.

“Anything for you, jagi,” he hums, pleased by your reaction.

“Hwa, it’s beautiful!” Your voice is still louder than normal, but you can’t help it.

The bad mood from the failed test is a distant memory. Your mind conjures up images of driving around in the car, curls blowing in the wind while Seonghwa’s hand rests on your thigh.

Warm, strong arms embrace you from behind, Seonghwa nestling into your neck to place a soft kiss.

"I'm glad you like it, beautiful," he murmurs, inhaling your scent. His nose traces along your neck, the light sensation causing goosebumps to arise on your skin.

"I love it," you breathe out, overwhelmed by the feel of him. The way his lean body shields you from the sun, wrapping you in his love makes your heart beat faster. The excitement from the new car is still there, but your mind clings to your love for your husband.

"Then, let's take it for a spin," he hums, reaching into his pocket for the keys. The reminder of your failure almost dampens your mood, before Seonghwa leads you over to the driver's seat. "No pouting, jagi."

"But-"

"Get in, please," he commands, opening the door for you. "I'll make sure you pass that test."

He closes the door softly, walking around to take his place in the passenger seat. When you start up the car, you feel a warm hand on your thigh, making you smile to yourself.

Maybe you won't be sailing down the streets with the top down today, but you're certain your husband is going to help you accomplish that soon.

[abibliophobiaa]

Chapter Two: Miscommunication

summary: times goes on, and so do you. but what happens when you bump into the one person you thought you would never see again? (6k words)

eddie munson x pregnant!reader || strangers to friends to lovers, unplanned pregnancy, and then they were roommates, forced proximity.

warnings: sickness (r morning sickness); mention of drugs; mention of child abuse.

mini series masterlist

previous chapter || next chapter

——

Life didn’t magically stop merely because Eddie had ended up being completely different than who you thought he was. Still, nothing quite eased the ache of knowing you’d foolishly trusted another person who’d only gone and let you down. And even so, you quarreled daily with the fact Eddie didn’t really owe you or this baby anything. He’d done as you’d asked; he’d provided an outlet that afternoon, had loved you in the dark — for a little while. You often fought the urge to blame yourself for believing the front he’d put on. The whole ‘I don’t do this often.’

Because apparently he had, based on the fact he’d needed you to remind him more than once who you were. It wasn’t like it was often one found a woman dressed in a Princess Buttercup costume, and then proceeded to go back to a hotel with said woman.

You could do this on your own. Had convinced yourself of as much when you’d started looking for places to move. The only thing was…the city proved to be expensive. It had been one thing having joint salaries when you’d lived with Paul to help cover the cost of rent. Now you had another eventual mouth to feed, a baby to clothe in a few months time, and other expenses to think about like diapers and car seats and furniture.

Two weeks after you’d told Eddie about the baby and he’d essentially shot you down, you’d gotten a phone call from Robin Buckley. You had spent years together in acting classes at your college in the city a few years ago. Became fast friends back in the day and still kept up with one another. It just so happened, when you’d caught her up on life, that she had a basement apartment at her friend Steve’s place that he and his wife, Chrissy, rented out to her. Side entrance, privacy, and apparently a pull out couch in the living area that you could crash on until you found an apartment of your own.

You hated the idea of putting her out like that, but she insisted. And soon enough you shared teary goodbyes in Micah’s living room, her arms around your form, as Jeremiah clapped you on the back. They both wished you well and promised to call, and you hopped in the car and watched as the city faded into nothingness behind you.

Cityscapes and towering buildings turned into endless trees and charming Mom and Pop shops. Busy intersections became citizens walking their dogs and running on side streets. It even smelled different, the air cleaner and crisper somehow, not bogged down by car fumes and smoke.

The Harrington home was beautiful. Large, imposing walls. Gorgeous interior filled to the brim with countless photos of Chrissy and Steve throughout the years. Married for the past two of them, and sickly in love judging by the way they answered the door together, Steve’s arm around his wife, with Chrissy bouncing a baby girl with sandy blonde hair on her hip as you’d entered.

The immediate thought of Eddie’s dark hair knocked the wind out of you — the realization your own child might have his hair. Dark ringlets, and chocolate brown eyes. You hated that you even cared. It had been one night, and even if it had changed nearly everything for you, it meant nothing to him. He’d made that part very clear.

That first evening spent in Hawkins was done so around their dinner table. Steve had put together some pasta and meatballs, and you all chatted about your lives. You, and your old job, of which Steve snapped his fingers together immediately and suggested you come work at the high school where they’d needed some help in the library.

Robin seemed so hopeful for you, eyes shining as he told you, “See — it’s all gonna work out, babe. I told you.”

The apartment itself wasn’t large or anything. An open space for the most part, with a connected living room and kitchen. Robin had the closed off bedroom, and there was a makeshift bathroom with a small shower stall inside, and not nearly spacious enough. But it would do for now, and was way more than you could have ever hoped for or expected.

Your first purchases had been some clear tote boxes to keep stored away under your pullout bed. One for your clothes, one for the clothes you thrifted for the baby, and one for the miscellaneous items here and there like toiletries, diapers, your shampoos and conditioners and make up. It wasn’t much, and you’d likely run out of room soon, but it worked for now.

Those first two weeks passed in a blur. As promised, Steve was able to get you in for an interview at the high school library. It paid well enough, came with health insurance, and time off for maternity leave — though you didn’t know how they knew you’d need it, but you’d like to thank them if you ever found out. As you exited, you happened upon Steve and Chrissy’s awaiting stares, her excited giggling bursting to life when you’d said you were hired and would start that following Monday.

Later, as you all shared yet another celebratory dinner — this time for your new job position — and your baby decided it definitely didn’t like meatloaf, you stumbled into Chrissy on your way out of the bathroom, the back of your hand pressed to your mouth. Her eyes were soft as she led you back over to sit on the edge of the shower and fumbled around in her cabinet for something wrapped in a tiny package.

“Apparently ginger helps with the nausea,” she explained as your eyes widened at the wrapped candy settled in your palm. Confusion lined your furrowed brows and she continued, “For the morning sickness.”

“Oh — I-I’m…”

“It’s okay, you know. I kind of figured it out right away. Steve says I have a sense for these things.” She settled down on the toilet beside you, her knee knocking against the outside of your jean-clad thigh. “Is the father not…”

“No.” It came out as a shaky exhale, heart thumping loudly in your ears. “He’s not around, no. It’s just us.”

“Then you’ll stay,” she urged, reaching across your lap to clasp her hand around yours. “For as long as you need, okay?”

Life settled into a new normalcy. You went to work every morning, waved to your new coworkers as you passed, and began learning the names of the dozens of kids that would filter in and out of the library. And during your lunch breaks, you’d often walk around the track with Steve, talking to him about your day, his day, the weather. Trivial things, but it brought you comfort. A sense of familiarity in the unfamiliar you found yourself in.

The holidays, though different this year, were spent with people who wanted the best for you. Chrissy and Steve had been kind enough to buy you a basket of things for the baby, and Robin had as well, trying to lighten the burden however they could.

It was right around that time you’d learned Steve not only had Melody as a daughter, but a gaggle of twenty-something’s that Robin joked he’d been something of a mother hen to. They welcomed you into the fold without question, excited to have a new friend in their close-knit group.

It was also during those initial weeks you’d spent hours talking to Micah and Jere about how you really thought this was the best decision for your life right now. That you needed this change. And they promised to come visit often when you had your own place, especially since Micah insisted she planned on ‘spoiling the hell out of her niece or nephew.’

Soon enough, unfamiliar streets became solidified in your memory. You learned the best coffee shops and the shortest routes to get places you needed to go. You realized the next door neighbor, Tabitha, always walked her dogs at two in the afternoon and waved as she passed every time. That Pete down the street had the freshest veggie garden every spring and summer, and he promised he’d give you his extras when the seasons got warmer. You even enjoyed your coworkers. Appreciated their presence and help as you acquainted yourself with the school setting, and looked out for you like you'd been there for years.

Hawkins became a home. You didn’t know how or when, but it had. And it was then you finally allowed yourself to pause in front of your bathroom mirror one evening. To stop and stare at the reflection there, turning to the side, curiously tracing the space presently unchanged. Tried to imagine your empty arms being full in a few months, tried to imagine their little face. Tiny hands and little toes, the only person who knew what your heart sounded like from the inside.

They’d be yours and they’d be happy, growing up in a place where they’d only know love, and that’s all you ever wanted.

——

As the weeks progressed and 1994 bled into 1995, you progressed. Eyes drifted in supermarkets, trailed over the girl with no husband in tow. A bunch of close-minded town folk. Mother’s seemed to eye you wearily as you walked, children tugged closer to their side. Whispered when your back was turned to friends, asking quietly if you were simply gaining weight only in your middle of if you had some sort of scandalous secret, reaching up to grab canned soup or Robin’s favorite snacks.

It happened to be the only thing you didn’t like about Hawkins. The fact your business quickly became everyone else’s business. It was bad enough that you worked with teenagers these days. Many of whom preferred coming into the library lately to merely talk to someone they saw as closer in age, and therefore their personal information dump. You gave little more than properly timed nods and gentle reassurances, before you wished them on their way back to whatever classes they seemed intent on skipping.

Luckily, as the holidays came and went, you had the fortune of your increasingly close knitted friend group that consisted of Steve, Chrissy, and Robin — as well as the youngest Harrington, Melody.

Melody with her bright laughter and wispy curls, who reminded you constantly of who you were doing this all for. Uprooting your life, making changes, doing what you wanted to for once. That same little presence that had made itself more prominently known those weeks, current jeans swapped for ones you thrifted at the local store that accommodated the small bump that had decided would no longer be confined to your old clothes. That same little presence your thumb brushed over as you stood in the cereal aisle with Robin and held aloft a box, asking if you needed anymore back at the apartment.

“I mean, we already have two boxes, babe,” she said, shrugging, “but if you’re craving it, buy it. I don’t wanna mess with those angry hormones or whatever you got going on right now.”

“I don’t get angry.” The petulant pout on your lips spoke otherwise.

“You cried when I drank the last of the coffee the other morning —”

“That’s different,” you grumbled, tossing the box into the shopping cart. “I think we got everything. Is there anything else that you can th —”

“Robin Buckley in the flesh. Get your ass over here right now, I missed you so fucking much.”

You stiffened on the spot, heart clenching tight within your chest. You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t utter a word. The voice had come from behind you, but the realization dawned instant. The timbre of it, the inflection of his words, the jovial nature and affection lacing the sentiment toward your friend.

And Robin understood. You watched as clarity drained her features, a sickly pale color overtaking her cheeks. As her mouth dropped open and she glanced over your shoulder to offer him a smile. You’d never told your friends much about the father. Hadn't even so much as uttered his name once since he’d hung up the call. Had only said he’d been someone you knew briefly and never saw again. Someone who’d known about the baby, and yet wanted nothing to do with it, sparing you from further heartbreak in some ways by rejecting you both outright. Now he was here, standing behind you in the cereal aisle in Hawkins, no longer in California.

With the tip of your head, you muttered, “I’m fine. Go say hi.”

Head bowing over the railing of your shopping cart, you listened as Robin and Eddie’s laughter filled the aisle. As he likely picked her up and spun her around, based on the sudden thump of feet you heard a short while after.

“And who is your friend here?” he asked, stepping closer to you. And when you turned, he stiffened, voice a little high and tight as he choked, “Buttercup?”

“It’s me,” you offered weakly, feeling very much like you’d stepped into an episode of The Twilight Zone. “Guess you’re back from California.”

The words came out harsher than you intended. Barbed in a way that felt unfamiliar to you. Especially with Robin standing uncomfortably in the distance, shifting on the balls of her feet, eyes dancing between the two of you like she didn’t know who she should focus her attention on solely.

“And you’re…here. In Hawkins,” he murmured, sounding a little breathless, hand reaching out to touch like he thought you might float away into the wind before his eyes. You didn’t even think he noticed what he was doing, but you stepped back all the same, an arm coming to cross over your chest, head angling away from him. “I, uhm. Sorry, sorry — can we talk?”

Hurt seared anew in your chest, eyes meeting Robin’s briefly. The other woman shrugged, and you faced Eddie once more. “I don’t know what we could possibly —”

“Five minutes,” he offered, biting at his bottom lip. “Just…five minutes.”

“I’ll go up front to check out. Give me the car keys,” Robin said, just as your resolve crumbled a bit and you dipped your head curtly. You did as told and she flashed you a weak smile, pushing the cart along. Her head whirled around. “Don’t forget you have an appointment soon. I’ll come get you if you’re still talking after five minutes.”

“Thanks, Rob. We won’t be long, don't worry.”

You waved, following Eddie out the sliding front doors to the supermarket, stomach lodged high in your throat.

——

Of all the things you imagined he might say if you saw him again, “You know, I really hoped you’d call,” was definitely not one of them. And it was exactly what he’d said as you stepped out into the street, tugging your winter coat tighter to your body to block out the chill in the air.

Hot anger pooled in your veins. Fists balled up at your sides. Those angry hormones Robin spoke of? You felt them building at his statement, forming a cyclone of whirling emotion, anger like acid on your tongue as you snapped back, “Are you kidding me? I did call you, Eddie. I fucking called you to tell you I was pregnant and you hung up on me. I can’t believe you just said that. You know, I already thought you were an asshole, but that took the —”

You’d started walking away from him, wanting to run back inside the store and pretend this whole ordeal had never happened. Five minutes had been a joke, you’d only made it thirty seconds before he’d gone and opened his mouth and infuriated you further than you already had been toward the man.

But then you heard it. The choked whoosh of breath, the wobbly, “What did you just say?”

There was another sharp inhale of breath. Staggered, like he’d suffered through it, his palm coming to rest over his sternum. Fear propelled you toward him, a hand coming to rest over his back as he hunched forward a bit, trying to catch his breath.

“Eddie…what’s happening right now?” Your voice was so quiet you worried he might not have heard you over the harsh gasps he tried to draw into ragged lungs.

Something like a moaned curse ripped from his lips and he dropped down into a crouch, back against a lamppost, seemingly the only thing holding him upright. You got down on your knees in front of him, rubbing along the taut muscles of his shoulders, tensed in his panic.

“Hey…” you whispered, completely confused as to what the hell was going on. And yet, he looked so broken, forehead on his knees, arms around his shins, trying to get a hold of himself. “Deep breaths, okay? Follow me.”

He listened to your words as you coached him through a few deeper breaths. Watched as his shoulders loosened up, as his lungs started to expand further, and the wheezing died down into a quiet whisper. Finally, he looked upward — at you, at your face, and your own breath faltered. Watery, his eyes were watery and you could see the confusion there. The unfathomable and unimaginable hurt.

“Why…why does it seem like this is the first time you’re…hearing this…”

“Because it is, god damn it,” he groaned. “Did you really think — you thought — I wouldn’t have —”

“I don’t really even know you,” you retaliated, following after him as he shot up and began walking the opposite direction of the store you’d come from. “Will you slow down?!”

“Should I be concerned that there’s a woman chasing you across the parking lot, Munson?” Robin barked out a laugh, pushing your shared cart along the parking lot, stopping when she reached where you presently stood, watching Eddie walk back and forth, still trying to gather himself. To you, she whispered, “Is he okay?”

“I’m…I’m not sure,” you said, frowning when he turned back around and brushed the back of his hand along his eyes, then glanced down at your midsection, hidden behind the layers of your now zipped jacket. “Hey, Eddie? I think we need to go somewhere and talk.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, nodding, those curls around his shoulder bobbing with the movement, “yeah, I think we can start there.”

“I have an hour before my doctor’s appointment,” you told him, then glanced at Robin. “If Eddie drives me to the diner, can you drive my car? And I can always walk to my doctor’s office.”

“I’m not making you walk in the cold.” Eddie shook his head. “I’ll — I can drop you off or something.”

Robin took your keys hesitantly, eying you both once more. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Robin asked you quietly. At your nod, she added, “This doesn’t sound like Eddie if he’s who I’m thinking he is. He’s a good guy, babe. Just…maybe hear him out, okay? No angry hormones.”

“No angry hormones,” you promised, and watched as Eddie and Robin loaded up your trunk with the groceries you bought.

Once your friend pulled out of the parking lot, it was time for you to climb into Eddie’s van. He rushed around to open the door for you, and held a hand out as you clambered up on in, heart thudding at the fleeting contact with the man after two months without. Hated that even now you felt that immediate rush, the jolt in your system that you’d felt that night.

He hopped in on the other side and watched your face as you angled your head over your shoulder at the back of the vehicle. Your yet unvoiced immediate thoughts as you took in your surroundings were quieted by his rapidly uttered, “I…can make it safer. For —” He glanced down again, “well, you know.”

Uncomfortable silence settled over the vehicle, the gentle hum of whatever music Eddie had put on immediately lowered when you jolted to life at the first blaring notes that spilled out. Scenery fluttered on by as your forehead pressed against the glass window, fingers curled into a fist on your lap, tension roiling in your form.

The diner appeared out of the corner of your eye, its neon glowing sign declaring they were open twenty four hours catching your eye as you dropped down from the passenger side door and joined Eddie on the sidewalk. He opened the door for you as you both approached and helped pull out a chair, that boyish smile on his face you so vividly remembered playing on his lips as he dropped down across from you and asked the nearest waitress for some water and a set of menus.

“I just want a giant plate of fries,” you groaned, practically tasting them in all their potatoey goodness.

“And a plate of fries for the lady, please!” Eddie called out just before the waitress slipped out of earshot. “I…it’s good to see you. You look great.”

“You too.” Your fingers balled up your straw wrapper, rolled it along the table mindlessly. “So, I guess we should rip the bandaid off and start at the beginning?”

“Beginning is good.”

“About a month after we’d been together I started feeling sick. So naturally I went to the doctor and, well, surprise.” You gestured vaguely to your form. “That’s when I called you. Or I thought I did? But the look on your face back there….Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” He laughed, a dark sounding laugh that made your fingers twitch around your glass, refraining from reaching over to comfort the man. “You tried to tell me. Fuck — I’m going to find out who it was. But you have to know I’d never just…abandon my kid. Please know that. I might be scared as shit, but I wouldn’t abandon them like that. Wouldn’t abandon their mother like that either.”

“So you’re okay with it?” Fear gripped your chest, head lifting to look at him over the top of your glass of water. “Because you’re oddly calm about this at the moment and I just want to remind you this isn’t some kind of thing someone can half commit to. I — we have at least eighteen years ahead of us.”

“I understand that,” he said earnestly, an edge of harshness to his tone. His eyes narrowed a bit. “My dad was a piece of shit. I’m not about to follow in his footsteps.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurted, swallowing thickly, “I didn’t mean to insinuate anything by it. I’m just —”

“You’re a mother, I get it.”

It was the first time someone acknowledged it. The first time maybe you’d even acknowledged it. A mother; you were a mother. Not going to be — a present state.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

“I…I want to be there. In any way that I can. I know you’re doing most of the work right now, but I want you to know I’m here.” He exhaled deeply, hand coming to swipe over his jaw, rubbing gently. “I want to be here. For you,” he glanced down, “and them.”

“Okay. I guess we’re doing this.”

“We’re doing this,” he agreed.

Silence settled over the two of you as a waitress appeared with your drinks and the plate of fries you decided you might as well share with Eddie. You wanted it to be awkward. Wanted it to be stilted, but he was just as charming as the night you’d first met him. Boisterous laughter, jokes that made your sides hurt, wide grins that made something swoop low in your belly.

“How was California?”

“Good — warmer than here at least. We recorded the album and we’re really happy with the result. It’s very true to our roots, which is what we wanted,” he said, tossing another fry into his mouth. “We might do a tour, but we have a year. Which…works out, given our current circumstances. Just how pregnant are you right now anyway?”

“Four months,” you told him, sipping at your water.

“How are you feeling?”

“Uhm, in the beginning I was really sick. But luckily the past couple of weeks have been better,” you explained, offering him a smile when he grimaced. “I have pictures. I’ve kept copies in my bag…it’s silly, I know. Do you want to see them?”

“Can I?” He pressed his fist to his mouth as you slipped your hand into your pocketbook and fished out the small black and white images of varying stages throughout the past couple of months. You laid the first one in front of him, laughing as he squinted to try and figure out what exactly he was looking at. “It looks like a bean.”

“It kind of was. That was the first appointment,” you told him, handing him the most recent one after. “And this is my most recent appointment.”

His fingers glided over the curve of the spine. The shape of the head. Marveled at it with glassy eyes, your fingers curling over the leather of his jacket, right around his wrist to offer him some modicum of comfort. Allowed him to have a moment to let it all sink in. It had to be overwhelming. It had been, and still often was, for you to sit down and really accept that all of this was real.

He’d only had minutes to accept the news that his life as he knew it had changed, you had months.

“We should leave for my appointment soon,” you said, tucking away your napkin on the table.

“Would it be weird if I asked to come?” he asked, sounding so hopeful, younger than you knew him to be.

“It’s not weird. I mean, they’re half you, right?” you told him, watching him sign his signature on the receipt handed over by the waitress in passing before tucking it away. “But, uh, sure. Yeah.”

He lifted the picture of his unborn baby once more, grinned to himself, thumb brushing over the curve of their head. “Thank you.”

——

Father.

Eddie Munson hadn’t really ever had a good example of what that word stood for. For him, ‘father’ was the man who only came around every so often to ask his mother for money when she’d been alive. For drugs, to get himself out of a horrible situation, to try and pay a bill. For Eddie, father was the guy who taught him how to hotwire a car, the man who gave him his first black eye, someone who blamed his son for his every lot in life.

But as he grew, father became morning coffees with Wayne outside as the sun rose high over Hawkins. It meant putting up a Christmas tree around the holidays that looked more like a bush with lights than anything else. It meant learning how to fix cars with his hands, encouraging words to get him through high school, a call late at night when he was out of town working on his dreams of making music.

Right now, father was the word the technician had used when she asked you to confirm who he was to the baby when he sat down in that little office with you. It was the word she used when she asked him to fill out paperwork on his history, the word his soul screamed at him when he finally heard that tiny heartbeat working overtime.

His little ‘Party Favor’ he’d teased as you both walked back out toward the van after scheduling your next ultrasound. Twenty weeks, the big one, they’d told you both.

“Please don’t call our baby a party favor ever again,” you’d grumbled as you hoisted yourself up into the passenger seat, but he knew from the smile tugging at your lips when he settled down on the driver’s side that you hadn’t meant it.

“Where are you staying these days?” he asked, thumb curling around the steering wheel. “So I can drive you home.”

He hadn’t expected you to rattle off Steve’s address, but when you did, his eyes widened and you immediately asked, “Do you know where that is?”

“Kind of,” he said, turning his head to take in your pretty features. While he knew it probably wasn’t the best time to be admiring you as such, you looked so damn breathtaking his stomach twisted with it, “seeing as he’s my best friend.”

“Why am I not surprised? This day just keeps getting weirder.” You laughed, staring out into the streets as a gentle snow began to fall. “I happen to move to your hometown, where I also happen to then move into your best friend’s house.”

“I didn’t know you knew Robin.”

“It’s a small world.”

“And apparently getting smaller,” he said, eyes ahead on the road as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Thank you. For letting me come.”

The answer was silence. You’d curled up against the car door, forehead against the glass, mouth parted gently, lashes flush against the tops of your cheeks. His eyes drifted downward, to where your pocketbook rested next to your hip and your arm curled over your middle. Peaceful, you looked so peaceful — just like that night you’d spent together, where he’d watched as your eyes had started to flutter closed halfway through the movie and he’d held his breath as you rolled over and sought out the heat of his body.

He hadn’t lied. He didn’t have nights like those often. Had never even intended to go to that party that night. He’d only gone because the rest of the guys wanted to get out of the hotel for a bit and ended up rushing to put together a costume with less than a day’s notice. You’d sat at that bar, hunched over and bored and he’d been curious. He just never expected you to turn around, nor had he expected spending hours laughing with you over your drinks, or finding yourselves twisted in bedsheets.

And so much changed in a short four months. A stranger — you were mostly a stranger and now you were having his kid. Today, you’d been an acquaintance? A friend? He wasn’t sure what to think about it all. He still hadn’t fully processed the fact he would be a father in a few months to an innocent human being. Something so impressionable and his to raise.

He supposed that was also a conversation for another day. Something else to ponder after he dropped you off for the night and laid down for bed. Sighing, he shifted the car into park and glanced up at the front porch lamp hanging on the front of Steve Harrington’s doorway. He waved as Chrissy poked her head through the front curtains and noticed your sleeping form in the front seat.

Steve appeared in the doorway next, baby Melody on his hip as Eddie dropped down out of the van and rushed around the vehicle. “Say hi to Uncle Eddie,” Steve called out, holding up the baby’s hand in a little wave.

He waved back at the girl with a beaming gummy smile and tugged the door open, catching your shoulder as you rolled against the seatbelt a bit, eyes jolting open. “Hey, hey. You fell asleep, it’s just me.”

Your eyes searched his face in the night, and his heart lurched at the way they softened in recognition. “I’m sorry. You were talking and that was so rude of me I —”

“All good. I’m glad you got some sleep,” he chuckled, holding out a hand as you dropped down from the front seat and wobbled a bit before steadying yourself. “We’re here.”

The two of you made your way into the household, varying degrees of curious stares gliding over your forms as you stepped through the threshold. The first of which being Chrissy, who seemed unsure whether she wanted to keep her eyes on him or you.

“So you two have met it seems,” Steve said, “guess we don't have to get introductions out of the way.”

“We’ve met,” you muttered quietly, dipping your head as you yawned. A hand splayed over your midsection and Eddie watched the trail of your gaze stop on him. “Thanks for driving me today. I’m really tired and I should probably get to bed early.”

“Uh — y-yeah. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight everyone.” And you were gone, back trailing down the hallway toward the downstairs basement, the door shutting behind you with a resounding click.

There was a beat of silence, then, “Why didn’t you tell me she was living here?”

“What do you mean, you asshole? First time I see you in months and that’s the first thing you say?”

“That’s her.”

“The girl from the party?” Steve asked, mouth agape as Chrissy stepped forward to take the baby from him. She bounced their daughter around the kitchen island, pretending she wasn’t listening with her back to them, but Eddie knew better. Couldn’t fault her for wanting to protect a friend. “That’s the girl you couldn’t shut up about? Buttercup?”

“I need a drink. A strong one,” Eddie rasped, pulling out one of the island barstools. Propped his elbows on the counter and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “First I’m thinking when I see her at the store, ‘wow, maybe I get a second chance at this.’ Has to be, since she ends up here of all places. And then I find out she’s pregnant with my baby and I —”

“You hung up on her,” Chrissy interjected. Steve raised a brow in her direction. “Sorry. I just…you didn’t see her when she came to town.”

“But that’s the thing.” He paused to thank Steve as he dropped a glass in front of him on the table. “I didn’t know. I would have been on a plane if I knew. I hate thinking she’s been alone in all of this. And I know the day she was referring to. We’d had some stupid party after we’d finished the album and played some of the new songs for fun and we had some people over. She talked to someone, but I swear it wasn’t me.”

“We believe you,” Steve promised, settling down beside his friend. A hand curled around Eddie’s forearm and gave a tight squeeze. “How are you feeling?”

He groaned a hoarse cry of ‘fuck’ into his fist, head shaking back and forth. “I’m scared, man. I tried to be brave for her today, but I don’t even know the first thing about kids. In what universe did someone think I’d be fit to be a dad?”

“In all of them, Ed,” Chrissy sighed, coming up to rest a hand on her husband’s shoulder. Steve reached over and slid his palm over her smaller one, oozing that sweet fondness that most people only ever dreamed of. “You’re a good man. Don’t sell yourself short. You have a few months to figure out all the rest.”

“You told her you’re going to be there for her, right? I mean, if that’s what you want?” Steve asked, eyes intently searching his best friend’s face.

“Yeah.” Eddie sighed, taking a large gulp of his drink. “I mean, not much I can do right now, but I’m going to be in whatever way she wants me to be.” His hand swiped down the front of his face.

“I’m going to put her down for bed and head up. Love you two.” Chrissy moved to exit the room, dropping a kiss to the top of Eddie’s head and shoving the back of it teasingly into the kitchen island. Once he’d bursted into a laugh, she bounced the baby higher on her hip and said, “And Eddie. It’s going to be okay. You have all of us too. You’re not alone; neither of you are. Don’t forget that.”

He sure hoped so.

Long after Chrissy had gone up for bed, and Eddie grabbed his jacket from the front coat hanger rack, Steve stopped him in the doorway. Pulled him in for a hug Eddie would normally end up throwing a fist into Steve’s stomach jokingly for. This time he clapped him on the back and let his lungs fully deflate. A sigh he’d been holding onto all afternoon released, the tension in his body along with it.

“To me, it looks like you got a second chance with her. Might look different than you thought it would, but you got a second chance. Whether that’s as co-parents, friends, or more — you still have something,” Steve told him, stepping back to open the door for his friend. “I’d take advantage of that opportunity. Not everyone gets one.”

And damn it, he decided he would.

——

let me know what you think! 💌 see you again next week for chapter three, titled ‘roommates.’ 😉

[ahgasegotarmy116]

He Doesn't Deserve You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter Five

Summary: Taehyung gets careless and breaks your heart yet again. Pairing: Noona reader x Jeon Jungkook (She's 28 and he's 22) Word Count: 4.7K~ Warnings: Implied yändere and mentions of signs of trauma because of it. (nothing too extreme) a/n: It's taken me so long to get this chapter out I'm sorryyy but I hope it was worth the wait! Thank you so much for your continued support on my stories and I hope you'll look forward to the next part!

Jungkook's visit last week really had me thinking about the choices I make on the daily. 

I stopped stressing about what Taehyung might be doing when he's away and started thinking about ways I could improve myself.

It wasn't anything major but I wanted to take baby steps.

For instance, setting up a schedule for when I wake up and always making sure to not stay up past midnight. Along with promising myself to at least sit and write for a couple of hours per day but also taking breaks when I felt I needed to. I would come back though and finish only when I was satisfied and came to a proper stopping point.

Implementing these little changes in my life has worked wonders on my confidence and peace of mind. I feel like I'm accomplishing something and getting some sort of fulfillment in the day to day which I haven't been able to say for the past few years.

I guess all of this can be chalked up to Jungkook. 

I know I'm ultimately the one who's implemented these things into my life but if he hadn't given me that push, I don't think I would've ever gotten to even see these small victories.

While I'm in the kitchen pouring myself a cup of coffee I hear a faint chime on my laptop and I smile knowing exactly who it is.

'Good morning Noona, did you sleep well?'  I read from the all too familiar jkjkjk.97  and smile seeing that my suspicions were correct.

'I slept like a baby, who knew going to bed before dawn would do wonders!'  I send back and when I try to stand up to walk back over to the kitchen I'm met with another email popping up from him.

'That's good! I'm happy to see that you're feeling a bit better these days :)'  he sends and I smile at the fact that he's just as eager to reply to me. It's been like this ever since that day he dropped off my groceries. He would send me emails first thing in the morning almost like clockwork.

I'm surprised that he manages to keep a similar schedule to mine but I don't really know what he does most days except work. 

I know he works at the grocery store but it seems to me like he's always working at odd hours. Most days even well past closing so it's got me thinking about what else he could possibly do for a living.

It's none of my business but I can't help but be curious about it since when I ask him how his day went, he usually says he's still working even though it seems like he's been working since dawn. 

I really want to ask him but I don't want to pry. He seems like the kind of guy that keeps to himself and open up when he's ready. 

I'm just hoping that there will come a day where he'll trust me as much as I have grown to trust him.

My thought process his interrupted by the sound of keys jingling in the door and my heart sinks to my stomach when I'm brought back to reality.

"Hey baby" Taehyung greets while taking off his shoes. It's Saturday so he doesn't have work which means he might be hanging around here for a while before no doubt heading out again. 

"Hey" I respond quietly, feeling as though I'm retreating back into myself, not really being able to relax until I know what kind of headspace he's in.

"Where's my welcome home kiss from my gorgeous wife?" he asks while walking over to where I'm sitting at my desk. He leans down and kisses me on the lips, moulding his mouth against mine while I crane my neck up and return the kiss, placing a hand on his cheek to keep him connected.

"Welcome home" I let out after he pulls back, panting slightly as he nudges his nose against mine before standing up straight again. "Have you been up long?" he asks, him having gone out late last night and surprisingly turning up here again bright and early.

I hum in acknowledgment, "I've been waking up earlier these days so I can get a jump start on my writing and trying to go to bed earlier" I respond while watching his back as he walks over to the kitchen.

"Oh really? How's that going?" he questions, pouring himself a cup of coffee and walking back into the living room, waiting patiently for my answer. 

"Well it's been nice to implement a bit of a routine since my days and nights have kind of been all over the place for a while. Plus, I feel like this story is really coming along. I even started mapping out ideas for the next book in the series!" I say and he looks at me as if he's almost falling in love with me again, making me shy under his gaze.

"That's amazing honey. I feel like I haven't seen you smiling like this in a really long time. Looks like all you needed was a little discipline to really get your life back together huh?" he say while giving me a knowing look, cocking his head to the side and letting his eyes roam my body for a second. No doubt looking at the faint bruises he'd left from last week.

"I guess so" I say, awkwardly rubbing my bicep where he had grabbed me. "How are you feeling?" he questions, coming a bit closer and ghosting his fingers over the marks. "I'm fine, they don't hurt as much anymore" I say, slipping my arm out if his grasp.

"That's good, I'm sorry I got a little rough with you. I was frustrated with some work stuff and I took it out on you. That wasn't fair of me" he apologizes while brushing the hair out of my face and tucking it behind my ear. "It's okay" I say quietly, looking down at the floor to avoid his gaze. 

"No, it's not okay" he says tilting my chin up and making me make eye contact.

"I haven't been treating you well and I wanna make it up to you" he says, caressing my face with the hand that he used to tilt my chin up. "Okay" I whisper as he leans down to connect our lips again but before they're able to touch his phone rings. 

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone and the name Tiffany flashes across the screen with a kiss emoji at the end, giving me a name to associate as to why he's actually never home. 

"I've gotta take this" he says and I nod my head to show I don't mind even though my heart is breaking more and more with each ring. He gives me a quick kiss to apologize before answering the call and walking into the kitchen. 

I take that as a sign that he'll be leaving for the night again and head into the bathroom since it's the one place he won't question as to why I've shut him out. I close the lid of the toilet and cover my ears so I can't hear him but curiosity gets the best of me and I hold my breath to see if I can make any words out despite my whole motives of coming here in the first place.

"No I ca-. Well I just got here I-. Okay, okay fine I'm coming. Let me just come up with an excuse to tell her and I'll be there soon. Okay? Alright, love you too. Bye" I hear him say and he ends the call. I cover my mouth, trying to stop any sounds of heartbreak that might come out and listen as he walks down the hall to our room. 

"Y/n? Honey where are you?" he asks, barely bothering to look for me. "I'm in here" I say, turning on the sink to drown out the sound a bit to prevent him from hearing how wobbly my voice sounds from the emotions I'm trying to keep at bay. 

"I've gotta head out for the day but I'll be back tomorrow night. You gonna be okay?" he asks as if he cared about me. "Yeah I'll be fine don't worry, I'll see you then" I yell above the sound and he says a quick goodbye through the door in return and leaves soon after. 

Once I hear the front door close I let some of those choked sobs go.

He's never been that obvious before. Does he just not bother to hide since he sees that I don't question him about it? I don't even know why I still care since it's very clear that he doesn't care about me.

At that I look at my phone and see that there's another email from Jungkook that came in a little while ago which gives me motivation enough to dry my eyes and get myself together so I can head back out to my laptop and get lost in this safe haven we've created for each other. 

'Did you forget about me already?'  he questions, seeing as it has taken me a while to respond. I couldn't risk doing it and Taehyung finding out about us. Even though there is no 'us' when it comes to Jungkook and I, unlike that Tiffany girl he just left me for today.

'I'm sorry Taehyung came home. He just left though...'  I send and get a response back immediately, seeing he's been waiting for my response.

'Are you okay? Did something happen?'  he asks and I smile at the thought that there is someone out there that cares enough to ask. 

We've been emailing each other everyday since he came over and I've opened up to him a bit more about my relationship with Tae and he's been really good at just letting me talk and just being there for me. Always talking me through things and helping me process no matter if it's problems with Tae or even other more mundane things like writer's block. 

He's just there, no matter what.

'Can we meet up today?' I type out but hesitate, letting my hand hover over the mouse. 

Watching, waiting, worrying about if this would be a good idea but before making that decision myself I accidentally hit send when I try to put my hand down to rest it on my lap. 

"Shit" I say out loud but before I can figure out how to unsend the message I get a response back. 

'Sure :) Did you want to meet at the Blue Pearl? Or should I come over?'  he asks and I hold my breath, weighing the pros and cons to this whole situation and decide to just say fuck it and do what I want for once. 

'Can you come over?'  I send and close my laptop, too nervous to look at his reply. "What the fuck am I doing inviting a younger guy to my apartment when my husband is gone? What am I doing?" I say out loud and pace back and forth until I hear the chime come from my phone this time. 

'Be there soon :)'  "I'm fucked" I admit out loud before running around and quickly getting myself and the house ready.

 ~~~~~

A rhythmic pattern of knocks plays and puts my mind at ease while I walk towards the door and open it. 

"Noona!" he greets with a smile before giving me a hug that catches me off guard making me take a step back to help me stay balanced. "Thank you for coming" I say while returning his embrace and letting go a second later so I can step aside to let him in. 

"Are you okay?" he asks after having taken off his shoes and taken in my form to what I don't realize is to look for any signs of harm. "Yes I'm fine" I say with a sad smile yet know for a fact that even if I try to deny it he can read me like a book. 

"Then why were you crying?" he asks, looking at my red eyes and flushed cheeks. "I heard Tae talking to one of the girls he's cheating on me with" I mumble and at that Jungkook takes my hand and leads me over to the couch without saying a word.

"He didn't even try hard to hide it. Like he has a stupid kiss emoji next to her name and everything. He had only been here for like twenty minutes tops before he left" I spill out. He keeps a hold of my hand, looking down at it while I let out all the things I've been holding in. 

The worries, the doubts, the fear, the stress. I don't know when it started and I can't figure out how to make it stop. 

"I don't know what to do" I admit, looking down at my lap, watching as the tears fall from my eyes and onto the fabric of my jeans. 

"Do you want me to be honest and tell you what I think or do you want me to just listen?" he asks, rubbing circles on the back of my hand. "Be honest?" I pose almost as a question, knowing this is the ugly truth I've been hiding from. 

"Can you tell me more than one reason as to why you should stay with him? Besides him being your husband" he asks, sitting silently and waiting for me to respond, giving me time to think it through but when I shake my head he goes forward with posing his argument. 

"If you can't manage to come up with a reason as to why you should stay with him then what's keeping you from leaving? I know you said that you're scared and you don't know what to do but the fact that you're not doing anything is hurting you more than if you decided to leave him" he states, I just nod my head and listen, letting him say his piece.

"He's hurting you. He's hurting you physically" he says while ghosting his fingers along the bruises that run up my arm, "Mentally" he continues brushing the hair off of my face and rubbing his thumb up against my temple "And sexually" he finishes, taking note of the hickeys and the way I flinch away from him when he tries to lay his hand on my neck. 

"That's just how Taehyung is, he likes things rough" I say, making excuses for the marks that are clearly beyond rough sex. 

"But do you like it?" he questions, catching me off guard with an intimacy of the question. "He keeps me satisfied if that's what you mean" I answer curtly, hoping he'll take that as an answer. 

"That's not what I asked. Do you enjoy the way he has sex with you? Is that how you want to have sex?" he continues, not backing down from getting an answer out of me. I look up at him to see if he's seriously asking me that question and all I can see is a serious expression on his face.

"I don't mind it" I say, dancing around my answer. "Noona" he warns in a tone of voice he's never used with me, catching me off guard. 

"N-no. No I don't like it. It's too rough for me and I don't like it" I admit. He nods, casting his eyes down as if he's lost in thought before asking his next question. "Have you ever told him?" he questions and I shake my head only to realize moments later that he can't see me. "No I haven't told him" I respond quietly and he nods again before looking back up at me. 

"Why?" he asks and I'm left with one answer. "Because I'm afraid of what he might do to me if I say no" I explain. "I figure it's better to say yes and take it instead of saying no and having him force himself on me" I cover my mouth not realizing the fact that I said the thing that I was even too afraid to admit to myself.

"Has he ever forced himself on you?" he asks while clenching his jaw, clearly upset at the thought. "I didn't tell him no but I tried to make him see that I didn't want it but he didn't care to pay attention" I answer, getting rid of the filter seeing as it won't do either of us any good if I were to hold back. 

"That's one of the many reasons that you shouldn't even be with him anymore" he starts, his whole body tense, anger just bubbling under the surface. "You shouldn't have to be with someone you're scared of. I just don't kno-" 

"That's just it, you don't know. You told me that before, that I shouldn't be with someone that I'm scared of but you just don't get it. You've never been married. You've never had to deal with struggles like this. You make it sound so easy, that I could just leave and never look back but it's not that simple" I spout off, defending myself and my decisions. 

"Noona I just want to he-" "I know, I know" I say cutting him off but gaining a softer tone at the end, shrinking back into myself, ridding myself of my defensive behavior. "I'm sorry Jungkook, I shouldn't have said that. I asked you to come over and then I just yelled at you and I just..." I trail off, hating myself for doing that to him.

He tilts my head up and looks at me, studying my features and I cast my eyes down, too nervous to maintain his strong gaze. "Look at me" he says in a soft tone but I keep my eyes down, focused on my hands that I have balled into fists. 

"Look at me, please..." he whispers and at that I decide to do as he says and I see how his eyes have glossed over, the stars in them wavering. "He doesn't deserve you" he whispers cupping my face, running his thumb along my cheekbone to brush off a tear that I didn't even realize had fallen. 

"I don't know what to do" I let out in a choked sob, letting the tears that I've been holding in fall, never letting myself cry enough to feel better. He pulls me in and I latch onto him, burring my face into his shoulder as he holds onto me tighter, further showing me that I'm safe with him. 

"Whatever you need I'm here for you. Just tell me what to do and I'll do it" he says, the deep rumble of his voice brings me comfort. "I-" I start but cut myself off with another sob. "It's okay, just let it all out" he says and cling to him harder. 

After having sat there and cried with him for what felt like hours my sobs slowly die down to sniffles and my breathing patterns return to normal. "You okay?" he questions, more so asking if I had finished crying versus how I'm feeling about my current reality. I nod my head but nuzzle in closer to him, not wanting to let go just yet. 

"What's wrong?" he questions. "I don't want you to see my face" I complain into his shirt and he laughs at (from his perspective) how adorable I am. "Aw come on why not?" he chuckles and I nuzzle my face into his neck, making skin to skin contact without paying any mind to it. "My face is probably all red and my eyes are puffy from crying" I mumble against his neck. 

His body goes stiff but I don't take too much notice and move a bit closer to him, not realizing how I'm making him feel and only realize it after he clears his throat a few times. "Is something wrong?" I ask finally taking in how uncomfortable he seems. 

"No, nothing's wrong I just- no it's nothing" he says trying to backpedal out of this. "It's obviously something if you're reacting like that" I press, wanting him to be as truthful with me as I have been with him. 

"I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable" I say, pulling away from him. "No! Noona no, it's just that. Your lips were on my neck and you were really close and..." he trails off, hoping that's explanation enough. 

"I didn't even realize I was doing that, I'm sorry..." I trail off as well, hating that I made this situation even more awkward than it already is. "It's okay Noona I just, well I just want to make sure we don't cross a line and it was making it hard for me to do so" he explains.

"What do you mean by that?" I ask, wanting to know exactly what he's thinking. "It's just, well you're married and I think you know that I'm attracted to you by now so it was just making it hard for me to think straight" he admits and I nod my head and look down at my lap, not really knowing how I'm supposed to respond. 

"I hope this doesn't change things between us. I really do want to be your friend but I understand if I've made you uncomfortable. I just thought you should know" he finishes and waits with bated breath for my response. 

"Would things be different?" I question, not fully asking the question since I'm not sure if I want to know the answer. "Would things be different if what?" he presses. "Would things be different if I wasn't married?" I ask and I close my eyes, scared of seeing his reaction. 

"You can't just ask me that" he says and I look up at him to see his face turned away, showing how pink the tips of his ears have gotten and how his jaw is clenching. "Why not?" I press, needing to know based off of the kind of reaction he's giving me. 

"You don't know how hard I've been holding myself back" he says and tongues his cheek, making me widen my eyes at the motion. "Holding yourself back from what?" I press further, needing to know what's running through his mind right now. 

"From kissing you" he says, finally looking back at me, making eye contact before his eyes flicker down to my lips. "I-" "I should go" he says, cutting me off before I can say anything further. "Wait, no you don't have to go. I'm sorry" I say, trying my best to keep him here. I can't let him just run off after a confession like that but he's giving me no other option as I watch him stand up. 

"You have nothing to apologize for Noona. I shouldn't have said that. I do have to go though, my family is waiting for me back at home" he says and I widen my eyes, never having heard him talk about his family as of yet. 

"Family?" I question, my curiosity peaked. "Yeah I live with my mom and my three siblings" he says while walking over to put his shoes on. "Three?" I question and he nods his head not bothering to give me much more than that. 

"That's a topic of conversation for another time though" he says after he stands back up from tying his laces. "Oh okay" I say and hug myself, providing myself some comfort, hating to see him rushing out of here already. 

"They really are waiting for me. My mom has to work tonight so I'm stuck taking care of the kiddos" he says, giving me a soft smile before turning to open the door and I follow behind him. 

"Let me know when you get home okay?" I say, leaning up against the door frame. "I will" he says and reaches out to pull me in for a hug, accepting it right away. 

"I still want you in my life so please, don't disappear" I mumble into his chest and he hums in acknowledgment. "You can't get rid of me that easily. Not after I fought for that title of best friend" he says pulling back and looking down at me fondly and I smile back up at him before he places a hand on the side of my neck and leans down to place a kiss on my forehead.

"Bye Noona" he says, giving me a soft smile. I smile back up at him and return his sentiment before he turns to walk away.

I watch as he goes, waiting for him to get in his car where he looks back up towards my apartment, not expecting to see me waiting for him but smiles when he does. I smile back and wave and watch as he pulls out of his spot and makes his way out of the parking lot. 

"I'm really fucked" I mumble to myself and turn to walk inside my apartment. 

"He gets more and more handsome each time I see that young man" Mrs. Mitchell says, making me jolt back from the scare of being caught. 

"Mrs. Mitchell we didn't-" I start but she waves me off. "You don't need to make excuses to me love. Like I said last time, I wouldn't blame you if you did" she says and places a hand on my arm, noticing all the mixed emotions I have written all over my face. 

"Why don't we change the subject and have you sign those books we had spoken about the other day" she says, turning to walk towards the stack she had waiting by her front door like she had told me she would. 

I smile at her enthusiasm for my writing and and am thankful that she doesn't address what had happened between Jungkook and I anymore. 

"There you go" I say putting the cap on the pen and handing the last book back to her. "Thank you dear! The girls are going to love these!" she says placing the books back in their place. "Girls?" I question, chuckling at her reaction, so happy a simple thing like this could make her happy. 

"Yeah! The other women in my book club. I recommended your books to them and they've been begging me to get them a signed copy from you ever since" she says, turning back to face me. "Well I hope they enjoy them!" I reply happily, embarrassed still that woman of their age are reading it but thankful nonetheless. 

"We're all meeting together here next Sunday so maybe if you're not too busy writing you could stop by and have tea with us. I just know they would love to meet you!" she says, practically glowing with excitement. 

"I'll have to get back to you on that one but it sounds lovely" I smile, my heart swelling at the thought of meeting some of my readers. "Wonderful! But I'll let you get back to your day dear. Make sure to set aside some time to take care of yourself and relax tonight okay? You deserve it" she says placing a comforting hand on my arm before we both go our separate ways. 

As I close the door behind me I'm met with that all too familiar chime and I walk over to my desk, this time a bit more tentative than before, being nervous as to what I might find from my familiar friend jkjkjk.97

Home :) is all he sends but I decide to respond, nervous of the result if I don't, scared that he might shut me out or fade away.

Have fun with the kiddos tonight! And thank you for coming today, it really meant a lot to me  I send back, hoping to make things sound normal.

Anytime, let's see each other again soon. Okay?  he asks and I can tell he's waiting earnestly for a response. 

Okay. This time at The Blue Pearl so we can say 'Hi' to Rae. I miss her :(   I say, hoping that he won't take that as a way of me keeping him from coming over when I really do miss Rae. 

The Pearl it is! Goodnight Noona he says, ending the conversation early tonight, no doubt having a lot to do to manage three kids for the night. 

Goodnight Jungkook  I send and close my laptop, vowing to do as I had agreed upon and take the rest of the day to take care of myself. 

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[theemporium]

Hi, there.

I would love to read about Daniel proposing to Sunshine 💗

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

He didn’t even have a fucking ring.

Daniel was unprepared beyond imaginable. He didn’t even plan to propose that day, he didn’t even think as much when he woke up that morning. He simply kissed you, murmured a quiet ‘I love you’ before he headed out for his morning gym session and a day full of meetings with the team.

You had been working from home that day, happy to stay in comfy clothes and look over data with Salem curled up on your lap. You had vaguely told him that you might pop over to the grocery store to pick up some essentials you were running low on, but all in all, it was a mundane day for the both of you.

It hit him when he received a message from you. You were buzzing for him to come home, excited to show him a surprise you had bought earlier in the day. You were so giddy and happy, it made his chest tighten.

When he walked through the front door of your shared apartment, he was greeted by Salem first who was already purring at his feet, rubbing his head against his legs until Daniel finally caved in to scratch his head.

“Sunshine?”

“In here!”

He dropped his bags by the floor, sliding his shoes off before he passed through the apartment towards the kitchen. When he made his way into the room, you quickly turned to him with a massive smile on your face.

“Gonna show me this surprise, baby?” He teased, watching the way you were practically vibrating to show him.

Your eyes were glimmering when you lifted the surprise to show him, like a child on Christmas. “Look at it!”

You started rambling about the small appliance you had found at the store. It was an air diffuser, one of those fancy little machines you put water and essential oils in to make the place smell nice. But this one was designed like a small volcano, the diffused air coming out like little puffs of smoke in an explosion.

And yet, for such a simple thing, you were practically over the moon. You were eager and animated and so excited to show him, and it just hit him deep in the chest how domestic the whole situation was.

It hit him how simple and sweet the moment was. That even after so long together, something as simple as sharing a cool device you had got at the store with him got you so excited. It hit him just how happy he was to hear you ramble on about stupid, small things. It hit him that he wanted to listen forever.

“—and I ordered some fancy oils off Amazon that I thought we could try—”

“Marry me!”

Your words came to a screeching halt as you stared at the boy in front of you, blinking a few times like you weren’t quite sure you heard him right.

“What?” You whispered, almost breathlessly.

“Marry me,” he repeated again, almost as breathless as you were.

Because the thing was that Daniel had thought about marrying you, far more than he cared to admit. You two had discussed the conversation of marriage multiple times, you were both on the same page. But Daniel had spent countless nights thinking about marrying you. Hell, he knew he was going to marry you after the second date.

He always thought he would find the right moment to propose. That he would talk to his mother, get some advice on finding the perfect ring for you before whisking you away to a dream location where he would propose with a planned speech about how much he loved you.

Instead, he was standing in the kitchen of your shared apartment, not a ring in sight, with just an overwhelming desire to call you his wife, to marry you and be with you for the rest of your lives together.

To spend a lifetime listening to your random little rambles about the smallest of things.

“Marry me,” he repeated one more time as he stepped forward, as he reached for you. “Marry me and spend the rest of your life with me. Marry me and buy every single damn thing in the world just so I can hear you talk about it. Marry me. Be with me. Let me love you the way you’re meant to be loved forever.”

“Daniel,” you whispered, tears welling in your eyes.

“I don’t have a ring,” he murmured as he swallowed back the emotions laying thick in the back of his throat. “And this is probably not the best proposal in the world but I’ll get you the best fucking ring in the world, whichever one you want and I’ll—”

You didn’t waste another second before you grabbed his face in your hands, pulling him towards you until your lips were pressed against his. Daniel sunk into the kiss in seconds, his hands sliding around your waist as he pulled you until your body was flush against his.

“I don’t care about a ring,” you murmured against his lips. “I wanna marry you too.”

Daniel could feel his grin grow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you grinned back. “Gonna make you Mr Sunshine.”

Daniel snorted. “Guess you have to get me a ring then.”

“I’ll get you one of those candy ones,” you joked.

“Perfect,” he murmured before he leaned in to kiss you again, a little more loving and a little less feverish. “I’m still gonna get you a ring, Sunshine. Gonna find the most perfect ring for the most perfect girl.”

Your cheeks flushed in response. “Who gets to marry the most perfect man.”

“We make a great couple,” he commented, still holding you tight against him. “Mr and Mrs Sunshine.”

You laughed. “Mr and Mrs Sunshine.”

.

[velaryqns]

Please write being Gregory house wife, pregnant with your second child and just domestic life with house, toddler and baby on the way

Peaceful Evenings

Pairing: dad & husband!gregory house x wife, mom, & pregnant! reader

summary: It's late in the evening when Greg gets home from work...

warnings: fluff, pregnancy, I just threw out a random name for the kid when I started writing...so

You looked at the time as you scrolled through the website you were shopping on. You and Greg had recently discussed the need for a new dining room table. The two seater wasn’t going to work much longer, Parker needed to start using a booster and the baby was due in two months. Plus, you’d be able to get James to help set one up if you needed it. None of the tables had grabbed your attention, and you rubbed a hand over your stomach and hummed, “We might have to convince daddy to go to an actual furniture store.”

The baby seemed to kick in response, and you chuckled and closed the laptop. You sat forward more and stretched your back out, then kicked your legs over the bed to go check on your son in his room. Parker was nearly three, but you still frequently worried about him. Greg had tried to calm your nerves about him, as your son wasn’t a restless sleeper, and was usually good about sleeping through the night after settling into a nice routine.

Sure enough, your son was sound asleep in his bed when you peaked in. Across the hall from his room was the nursery, neutral colors with pops of all colors of the rainbow for your new baby. You continued down the hall, one hand against the wall, to the kitchen. You’d spent most of the evening trying to keep Parker entertained and make sure everything was clean after your day at the hospital.

Thankfully, being a nurse didn’t keep you away from your life at home as frequently as House being the Head of Diagnostics did to him. You couldn’t blame him, and knew he didn’t like when he had to call you and say that something was running behind. It wasn’t frequent, as rare cases were called rare for a reason.

He had called ahead of dinner and you told him to get home safe. But now, he should be home any minute. You turned on the kitchen light, adjusting to the brightness as you got a glass of water, as well as made yourself a cup of tea. As you waited for your tea to be done, you sat at the table. You looked around the living room.

Parker had a few toys still lying around that you’d forgotten to pick up, but you couldn’t be bothered to pick them up this late into the evening. Your eyes were taken from the toys when the sound of keys at the door could be heard. You looked over, smiling at your husband as the door was pushed open.

He had a tired look on his face, but was able to offer you a smile as he set his keys and bag aside. He limped into the kitchen, leaning down to press his lips to yours. You hummed, feeling his hand land on your shoulder and squeeze it gently. He pulled away and grabbed the other chair to sit closer to you, “Hi.”

“Hi,” you smiled at him, cupping your chin with one hand, “Dinner is in fridge if you���re hungry.”

He nodded, patting his hands against the table and rising to his feet. He limped over to the fridge and you turned to watch as he moved around the kitchen, grabbing a mug and pouring your tea for you before he brought it over, “You didn’t have to stay up.”

“Don’t just blame me,” you chuckled and patted your stomach, where the baby had finally stilled for the evening as you took the mug from your husband, “I’m hoping some tea will help me sleep though.”

There was silence as his food reheated and you took a sip of your tea, before you hummed with a small smile, "And maybe with you here tonight."

Your husband let out a small chuckle as the microwave went off and he joined you at the table, sitting in the other chair and taking a bite of his food. You sat back in your chair slightly, wrapping your hands around the ceramic mug as you watched your husband eat. There were a few minutes of silence before you heard the unmistakable sound of Parker in his room. Your eyes darted toward the clock above the stove, a slight frown forming before you pushed yourself to your feet.

You squeezed a hand on your husband's shoulder, squeezing lightly before you wandered down the hall and into Parker's room. You stepped inside to see him sitting up in bed, a new small one that you'd bribed James into helping House bring into the apartment and set up. You smiled at your son, helping him out of the bed and holding his hand as he walked down the hall.

The toddler's sleepy face instantly lit up when he spotted his father sitting at the dining room table. You let his hand go and allowed him to rush into his father's arms. Parker settled on Greg's lap as you sat back in the chair, stretching your back as you and Greg locked eyes, a small smile on your husband's face while Parker began rattling off, with whatever words he knew how to use, about his day after Greg had left.

You knew then that your husband would take the responsibility of tucking the little boy back into bed, and that you'd join each other in the comfort of your large bed and blankets.

This was nice.

[i-am-baechu]

♡ Summary: Being nine months pregnant is not fun nor is it easy. What makes it harder is that you're married to a K-pop idol, Kim Namjoon. What happens if you go into labor and he's on a schedule? Chaos. 

♡ Rating: Pg - 14

♡ Genre: Established relationship; Namjoon x Wife! Reader, pregnancy, romance, fluff, and angst 

♡ Warnings: Giving birth (kind of) and difficulties of getting pregnant

Y/N pushed the covers off her bed and laid next to her husband, who was reading away his new book. She let out a small laugh as she pulled the covers over her big belly. The sudden noise made Namjoon look up and gave her a small smile, “Do you need help?” 

“No, I’m an independent woman.” 

“So, you don’t want me to rub your feet?

She pouted at this as Namjoon smirked at her, “No...I want that still.” 

“Just as I thought. How’s the baby?” 

“He’s doing great. Kicking me with all his might.” 

Namjoon frowned at this and pulled the covers off of her. He moved up her shirt to show off her roundness. He placed a gentle kiss and she watched with soft eyes, “Stop giving your mom a hard time. We want to meet you just as much as you want to meet us. Please be patient, baby.”

She ran her fingers through his hair as she tilted her head at the scene, “You know…we haven’t given him a name yet.”

“I thought we liked Dae-Hyun?”

“It’s good but I haven’t settled on it...I want a unique name or something that matches us.”

Namjoon placed another kiss on her stomach and pulled her shirt down. He leaned back into his pillows, “We’ll figure it out.” 

“Joon, I’m literally nine months pregnant. Time is ticking.” 

“For now, let’s go to bed. Stressing about it won’t do you good, if anything it will make you sick.”

She sighed, hating how he was always right, “Fine. Goodnight love.”

He smiled at this and leaned forward placing a kiss on the tip of her nose, “Goodnight love.” 

Y/N and Namjoon Kim have been together for nine years and married for two of those years. Y/N and Namjoon met by accident. Y/N was working at the cafe by the old Bighit building when they first met. He just turned nineteen and she was eighteen, the two had no idea that they would get married when he walked in that day. Namjoon and Yoongi came in looking for caffeine after a long night of practice. It was a long night for Namjoon because at the time he wasn’t that confident in his dancing and felt like he was holding the group back. Y/N noticed that he looked stressed and asked if he was alright, the rest was history. 

Y/N was there since the beginning of Bts and would play their music in the cafe whenever she had the chance. Namjoon would go into the small cafe every day to see her and the rest of the members picked up that he had a crush. Jimin and Hoseok were the ones that helped him to ask her out. She always knew they would get big because she believed in their talents and with her support, they did just that. 

In their sixth year of being together, Y/N and Namjoon were trying for a baby. They were newly engaged and thought it was time to have a baby. They were both healthy and financially stable, the only thing that was missing was a baby. After a year of trying, Y/N went to see a fertility specialist to see if there were any problems. Even though she was healthy, it was just taking a long time for the couple to conceive. She was upset about this but told Namjoon, whatever happens, happens. With help planning and scheduling thanks to the fertility specialist the two conceived. Now two years later, she is finally pregnant and married. 

Even though Namjoon was a husband and father, the world didn’t know that. He didn’t want the world to know about his life at home, he wanted privacy at the time. Y/N was sensitive and had health scares because of her pregnancy, he didn’t want to stress her out even more. It wasn’t until he was live on Weverse one day that he accidentally left the crib in his studio. It didn’t take long for Army to take notice and ask questions. He released a statement that he was married and having a child with his partner, saying sorry that he kept this hidden. It was a good reaction, something that shocked him. He wouldn’t show Y/N or his son’s face but he felt better that he could share this part of his life. 

“Noona are you okay?” 

Y/N smiled at Jungkook and nodded her head, “I’m okay, just fat.” 

Namjoon shook his head and walked up to her with a water bottle in his hand, “Baby, not fat. You have a human being in your stomach.”

She sighed and rubbed her stomach gently, “I know, I know.” 

Today she was watching the guys practice their dance for a video. The song was Run and it was fun to watch all of them dance together. The song was a high-energy song, something she wished she had. Namjoon wanted her to be with him at all times in case she gave birth, so she agreed to this. Her doctor told her walking is good for her and can even induce labor. 

She took the water bottle and took a sip. She was feeling nauseous all morning and Jin was the one that helped her to the chair. Namjoon was busy making a makeshift footstool for her. Yoongi handed her a piece of bread and frowned, “Are you sure you're okay?” 

“I’m okay, just pregnant.” 

Jimin smiled at this and looked at Jungkook with excitement, “Are you excited for the FIFA World Cup Kook?” 

Jungkook nodded but looked at Y/N with a frown, “Do you want me to go? I can change my mind on it.”

Y/N shook her head and gave him a small smile, “No, kook. You should go, you’ve taken care of me more than I can ask. I’ll be okay.”

Taehyung looked at Namjoon and frowned, “Don’t you have the trip to New York?”

Namjoon nodded and grabbed Y/N’s hand, “I didn’t want to go but Y/N told me I should go.”

“Of course I did. It’s for your album, babe. You need to go. Seokjin, Hoseok, and Yoongi will be there for me.” 

“Yah, what about me!?” 

She let out a small laugh and looked at Jimin, “I don’t think you can handle it.”

Namjoon sighed and shook his head, “I hate being away from you. I want to see everything and be involved.” 

“You can’t help it, that’s life babe. It will be okay no matter what. Just think that way, please.” 

“I guess...it’s not easy.”

“But it's necessary.” 

Hoseok kissed the top of her head and handed her another piece of bread, “We’ll take care of her Joon. Let’s get back to practicing.”

Namjoon stayed in his place while everyone left. He turned his head to look at her with a small smile, “I love you so much, Y/N.”

“I love you so much, Namjoon. It will be okay, as long as we're together, it will be okay.” 

“That’s the problem, I won’t be there.”

She sighed and shook her head, “You will be there. I have a ring on my hand and a phone that can doFacetime. It will be okay.” 

He let out a small laugh and quickly pecked her lips, “Whatever you say, love.” 

“Namjoon, get into position!” 

“Okay, Hyung! I love you.” 

“I love you more.” 

She watched him leave and she bit her lip. She was super nervous because she knew this would have happened but she couldn’t show Namjoon that was feeling super nervous. She knew how important his new album was and she wanted him to finish it since he's been working so hard on it. It will be okay...

･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

Namjoon was gone and Y/N was in their home not feeling the best. Every hour, Namjoon would call to check on her until Jin got annoyed and told him if he called one more time he was going to fly to New York to hit him. It’s only been three days since Namjoon left and she wasn’t feeling so good. She lied telling Namjoon that she was just super tired but Hoseok knew that was a lie. The moment Hoseok came in to check in on her, she was throwing up pure acid. She couldn’t eat anything nor could she stand up, it was really bad. Yoongi even tried getting her to eat bread but she didn’t even have the strength to eat it. 

Today it was Hoseok’s turn to watch her and she was glad that he was there. Today, she was feeling pain in her lower back and stomach. Her heating pad was doing its best to make her feel better. She was also constantly going back and forth to the bathroom but nothing was coming out. It was super frustrating. 

Hoseok handed her a banana and gave her a small smile, “Do you want some juice?” 

“Honestly, I don’t know what I want. No matter what I eat or drink, it makes me feel horrible, hobi.” 

He frowned at this and pushed some hair back from her forehead, “Remember what the doctor said, to get some walking. We can take a little walk to Namjoon's studio.” 

“It’s so hard though, hobi!”

“I know but it can help, okay.”  

She nodded her head and Hoseok gently helped her out of the bed. She felt like her stomach dropped but she couldn’t tell if her stomach didn’t agree with the bread or she had to go to the bathroom. She decided to keep walking to see if the feeling goes away. Hoseok held on to her tightly as she slowly walked into the hallway. It wasn’t until halfway she stopped and she let out a loud groan, “Y/N?” 

“Hoseok, I-I think my water just broke.” 

The silence hit him as he stood there with pure confusion, “Wh-What?” 

“We need to go now!” 

This was the fastest Hoseok has ever moved in his life. He grabbed the bag that she put together in her closet and grabbed some other things as Y/N sat in the chair breathing in and out. He grabbed his phone and dialed the dad as fast as he could, “Hoseok is-”

“Y/N’S WATER BROKE AND I’M GOING TO THE HOSPITAL!” 

“Wait...what?”

“NAMJOON, HER WATER BROKE! YOU NEED TO GET HERE AND FAST!” 

“OH SHIT! I-I’LL GET ON THE NEXT FLIGHT! CALL JIN AND YOONGI-HYUNG!”

“OKAY!” 

“HOSEOK! STOP FUCKING YELLING IN MY HOUSE AND TAKE ME TO THE HOSPITAL NOW!” 

Hoseok ended the call and put his phone in his pocket. He rushed towards Y/N and gently grabbed her hand, “Okay, we’ll go to the hospital. Namjoon is getting on the next plane and should be here tomorrow.” 

“That’s nice and all but I’m going to be mean, I really don’t care about that. Take this child out of me.” 

“O-Okay.” 

The trip to the hospital was hectic but Hoseok didn’t mind. His best friend is giving birth, he knew what he was getting himself into. He called everyone that was in Korea to head to the hospital, something Y/N wanted. Y/N sat in the room groaning in pain as the other members watched with hopeless looks.

Seokjin picked up a piece of ice and placed it in her mouth, “Anything from Namjoon?”

“No.” 

Y/N turned her head and stared at him with a scared look, “I’m not having this baby without him.”

“I-I know but listen Y/N-”

“No, you listen! I’m holding this baby-oh, shit.”

She gripped on the railing as tight as she could and Jin looked at Yoongi, “Go get the doctor.”

“No, I’m not-”

“Noona, if you have to give birth then you have to. It’s not healthy for you to keep him in.”

She frowned at Taehyung and looked at Yoongi. She gave him a small nod, “Go get the doctor.” 

Yoongi quickly made his way out of the room as Y/N started crying. Jimin grabbed her hand and started to rub her knuckles gently, “It’s okay. Noona, we’re here for you. We’ll call Namjoon.”

“Pro-Promise.”

“We promise noona.”

“Okay.”

･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

“Namjoon, it's okay.”

“No, it’s not, I missed my son getting delivered.”

“About that-”

Before Yoongi could finish his sentence, Namjoon opened his door to see Y/N holding their son. He smiled at this and dropped his bag in the corner. He quickly made his way as Y/N looked up at him with her tired eyes, “Joonie.”

“I’m sorry baby, the plane-”

“I don’t care about that, Meet our daughter.”

“Da-Daughter?”

Y/N gently moved the blanket around her face and Namjoon felt his heart get heavy. She was so small and fragile, her little eyelashes going in different directions. Her plump lips matched his and her nose matched Y/N’s, the perfect combination of the two. He gently touched her cheek and let a tear escape, “She’s so cute. What’s her name?”

“Su-jin.”

“Perfect.”

[wifeofnatasharomanoff]

Chicks & Candy

SERIES MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: pregnant!reader, a slight misunderstanding, fluffy fluff, flirty wives ofc, not smut but a little soft/steamy make-out sesh

WORDS: 1,104

PAIRING: Natasha Romanoff x f!Reader

A/N: felt #emo while writing this oopsies !!😹😹😹

Sure, you had your reasons to be mad at her. You were pregnant and it was probably the hormones, but she still majorly fucked up with her innocent wording. On top of it, the summer heat always put you on a tightrope just waiting for you to fall, her accidental words just pushed you off of it.

She had come back home from a meeting at the Avengers tower and saw you waddling her way with Alex strolling behind you. “Hi darling!” you draped your arms on her shoulders, “hey you cute little chicken.” she smiled. Oh, how naive. She didn't mean for you to take it the wrong way. You furrowed your brows in confusion, “chicken?” oh God. She heard the change in your tone as you questioned her. “No– it's just that y'know you're like.. a mother chicken and– Alex, he just followed you like a little baby chicken. I–” you glare at her and move your arms off her shoulders, crossing them over your chest. “So, you're saying I look like a bird? A stubby bird with feathers that can't fly properly.” she was done for.

So here she is, contemplating her life decisions as she sat in the car parked in front of the house. “Mama why no home?” the toddler asked Natasha. “It's because.. mommy is upset at mama, buddy.” she huffed as she looked down at the candy in the shopping bag. Blue, green, red, and purple colors of fruit flavored hard candy. You mentioned craving jolly ranchers right before she left for the meeting, and here she is, hoping you forgive her little mistake over candy.

After a few minutes, she decided that you might have calmed down and she left the car with Alex. “Mommy I' home!” that dumb little– Nat, that's your son. Shut up. He padded through the hallway and snuck into your bedroom, “hi sweetie! Mommy missed you, c'mere.” he gave you a gummy grin and crawled into your arms. “Ugh, I hope this one is gonna be as chubby and cute as you.” you mumbled against his cheek as you squeezed him tightly. “I‐ can't breathe–” you let go of him and pinched his chubby little cheek. “Mommy! I' not a baby anymore. I' a big boy!” his complaints and huffs turn into giggles as you tickled him. “Babe?” you peered up at your wife at the doorway. Completely ignoring her presence out of pettiness, you continued tickling the toddler.

“Baby?” you chewed on your inner cheek as you attempted to ignore her once more. “Detka?” you couldn't hold in the laugh that escaped your mouth at her desperation for forgiveness. “What is it, Natty?” you finally met her eyes, “I'm.. sorry. For calling you a chicken.” she handed you a green apple flavored jolly rancher. “It's.. it's okay, darling.” you stifled a laugh as you popped the sweet candy into your mouth. “Alex, honey, there's some candy in the kitchen. Go get some buddy.” he gasped and jumped out of the bed, running towards the kitchen.

“Natasha.. you dirty little– close the door,” she smirked and shut the door close. “I'm sorry for being overly emotional.. I wasn't feeling this way when I was pregnant with Alex.” you spoke up as she sat in bed next to you. “It's okay, moya lyubov, don't apologize.” she grasped your hand and gave it a light squeeze. “I hope you know that Alex is.. distracted by a toy car set I left for him in the living room.” she whispered as her gaze flickered down to your lips. “mhm..?” you move over to her lap, “yeah.” she smiled as she nipped at your lips. You felt her tongue glide over your bottom lip, “you're so beautiful, detka..” she rasped as she pulled you in for a slow kiss, tasting the sweetness of the candy in your mouth.

“You think?” you mumbled against her mouth, “well why else would I have gotten you knocked up?” you roll your eyes and lightly punch her on the bicep. It did nothing considering her strength. “oh my God, do you always need to ruin cute moments, Tasha?” she whines as she pushes your body closer to hers, “is the moment back?” she said as her hand rested on your thigh, slowly creeping upwards. “Maybe..” the corners of your lips quirk up into a soft smile. “'Maybe'?” she snaked her arm behind your waist, pushing your breasts against her chest. A silent moan slipped past your lips, “Natasha..” she had a cocky grin on her face as she groped your breast through your clothes. “mm..” she cocked her head to the side and spoke up, “what about cute moments being ruined?” God, why is my wife so insufferable?

“Nat.” you gasped softly as she snuck her hand under your shirt. Well— her shirt that you for that, but she can't get upset at you for that, you being pregnant with her 2nd child is a good enough excuse. You let out a sigh of relief as her cold palm gently rubbed your stomach, soothing your overheated skin. “Does that feel okay? Am I hurting you?” she asks as she continues her gentle movements, “y-yeah.. it feels good, don't worry. Keep going.” you gripped onto her muscular shoulder as her other hand went up your bra. “Natasha.. darling, be gentle.” she peeked up at your face, understanding that she was touching your sensitive areas. “I will, babe, shhh..” she lightly kissed your neck, slowly sucking at your pulse point. You whimpered quietly as your grip on her shoulder tightened.

“Have I ever told you that you look sexy pregnant?” you groaned at her words, “yes, yes you have. My annoying, mood ruining, wife of mine.” she feigned a dramatic gasp, “I don't ruin the mood.” you scoffed. “Two years ago, when I was pregnant with Alex. It was hailing outside and—” you get cut off with a pair of lips over yours, “yeah, yeah, shut up.” she squeezed your waist and locked her lips with yours. Natasha, you bitch. I love you.

“Can someone play cars wif meeeeee?” you heard Alex from the other side of the door. “Nat. Go play cars with my cute little chicken.” you muttered against her lips. “Chicken? So you were pretending to be mad at me.” you giggle as you move off of her lap, “maybe I was, who knows? Now go give our son attention.” she chastely kissed you before leaving the bedroom. “I love you so much.” you smile, “I love you too.”

You wanted him back. Your cute, chubby little chicken.

[corroded-hellfire]

Top This - Eddie Munson x Reader

Note: Happy Easter! I only had a flash from this story come to me just this morning so it’s been written in a few hours and might have more mistakes than usual, my apologies. Many many thanks to @inourtownofhawkins and @munson-blurbs for all their help 💕 I hope you enjoy!

Summary: As a kid, Eddie never did an Easter egg hunt. As his wife, you’re determined to give him the best one he could’ve ever dreamt of.

Words: 2k

Weekends are Eddie’s favorite days because it means he gets to stay in bed with you longer. He can snuggle up to you, wrap you up in his arms, or even get a little frisky once he’s more awake. But this particular Sunday, when Eddie rolls over and reaches for the familiar warmth of your body next to him, it’s not there. He frowns and opens his eyes, blinking them a few times when your side of the bed is empty.

“Babe?” Eddie calls.

“In the kitchen!” you respond.

With an overdramatic groan, Eddie pushes himself out of bed and rubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands. He’s mumbling under his breath about how it’s Sunday and you should still be in bed with him as he shuffles into the kitchen. It’s impossible for you not to smile as you see his sleepy form walk in, plaid pajama pants hung low on his hips and a bare, pale chest.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” you greet him, slipping your arms around his waist. “And Happy Easter.”

“Oh, s’right, it’s Easter.” Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead. “Happy Easter, baby.”

“Now,” you say, rubbing your hands up and down your husband’s sides. “You know how you told me that you never did an Easter egg hunt as a kid?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow at you as he slowly nods. “Yeah…”

“Well, you’ve got one to do now,” you say with a proud smile.

“Baby,” Eddie says with a chuckle. “I didn’t tell you that so you’d—”

You press your lips against his to shut him up. “Everyone deserves an Easter egg hunt. I don’t care how old you are, mister.”

“Fine, fine.” Eddie tries to sound annoyed but the shy smile breaking on his face tells a different story. “How many eggs are there?”

“Eight,” you tell him. “All somewhere in the apartment.”

“Hmm,” Eddie hums as he strolls into the middle of the living room. The first egg is easy to spot; it’s tucked into the corner of the couch. Your husband plucks it from its spot and opens the blue plastic pod. He grins at the chocolate and peanut butter egg inside. “My favorite.”

“I know,” you say. “All of them are filled with things I think you’re gonna like.”

He gets on his hands and knees to look underneath the couch and coffee table, but comes up short on both accounts. Poking his tongue out as he thinks, Eddie pushes himself back up to his feet and walks over towards the window. Pulling back the green curtain reveals an egg that is a lighter shade of green. Smirking triumphantly, he pops it open. A small plastic baggie of new guitar picks falls into his hand and he lets out a chuckle.

“Huh, I wonder how the Easter bunny knew I needed these,” he muses. You give him an innocent shrug, and he throws you a wink as he tosses the bag of picks onto the couch with the first item. Eddie quickly finds the third egg, a pink one, hiding right behind the television. The new lighter inside gets instantly slipped into the pocket of his pajama pants as he continues his search. The next egg is hidden on a shelf, behind your wedding photo. Inside, the purple egg contains a keychain that has a picture of the two of you—the first picture you took together. The grin that breaks out onto Eddie’s face has your stomach doing somersaults.

“Don’t think you can top this one,” he says as he slips the keyring over his finger.

Eddie laughs as he stumbles upon the next one, a red egg tucked into one of his boots sitting next to the front door. The laugh turns into a groan as he opens it and pulls out a pair of black lacy panties.

“Thought those would look cute on you,” you joke. Eddie gives you a salacious smirk as he slingshots the underwear in your direction.

“I’d look hot as hell,” he says. “But not as hot as you.”

“Five down, three to go,” you say, referring to the hidden eggs. “They’re not all in here, you know.”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie says, eyes scanning every inch of space as he walks towards the kitchen. But his eyes snag on his guitar propped up in its stand in the corner. Beyond the deep red of its body, there’s a flash of orange as an egg sticks out from behind it. “Aha.”

Inside, there’s a small bag of skittles that has Eddie cheering. The white plastic egg is more difficult for him to find, but he finally notices it in the empty coffee carafe. The shining set of silver dice has Eddie’s eyes widening as he inspects them from every angle.

“Can I get the color of the last egg?” Eddie asks after he’s done a once over of the kitchen and comes up empty. “Is it in the bathroom? Our room?”

“Nope, it’s out here. And it’s yellow,” you say, sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs.

“Huh,” Eddie huffs as he paces the kitchen. He feels like he’s looked at every surface area within this open space of your apartment.

“Do you need a hint?” you ask as you watch your husband, a bemused expression on your face.

“No, no, I’ll get it,” he answers, stubborn as ever. Resigning to watch him drive himself crazy, you lean back in your seat and cross your arms over your chest. It’s hard to hold in your laughter as you see him walk by the eighth egg again and again.

“Ugh. Okay, fine, I want a hint,” Eddie grumbles as he becomes more frustrated. He plants his hands on his hips and looks around the counters.

“It’s blending in,” you tell him. Your husband turns towards you and his brow pinches in confusion.

“The hell does that mean?”

“It’s a yellow egg. And it’s blending in. Look for something yellow.”

“What the fuck is yellow in—oh!” His head whips around to the fruit bowl that has a bunch of ripe bananas in it. Right on top is the illusive yellow egg. He pops it open and two silver items fall out into his palm. One is a curb chain, similar to the ones he wears around his neck, but different enough that it’s not a duplicate. The second object is a shining ring that looks like bat wings are wrapped around whatever finger he slips it on. Eddie smiles down at the pieces of jewelry as he walks over to the kitchen table.

“Babe, these are great. Everything is,” he says.

You stand up and wrap your arms around his neck. “Did you have fun on your first Easter egg hunt?”

“I did,” Eddie says as he places his hands on your hips. “Thank you, sweetheart. This was very thoughtful.”

Pleased with yourself, you lean up and press a few kisses against his lips. Letting out a hum, you pull back and look up at your husband with the most innocent eyes you can manage.

“Oh, I forgot. There’s actually one more egg.”

Eddie huffs a laugh and tugs your body up against his. “You being forgetful or sneaky, huh?”

“This one is a golden egg,” you say, avoiding his question. “And it’s more hidden, so we can play hot or cold if you want.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, reluctantly dropping his arms from around you. “Am I warm or cold right now?”

“Mm, warm,” you decide. He takes a step backward, more into the kitchen. “Warmer.”

“So, it’s in the kitchen,” Eddie muses as he traipses his way towards the fridge.

“Getting hotter!”

“Is it in the fridge?” he asks as he pulls open the door.

“Colder.”

“Okay.” Eddie closes the refrigerator door and backs up a few steps.

“On fire!”

He comes to a halt and turns so he’s facing the stove. “Is it in the oven?” When you don’t answer, he looks back at you. At the unhelpful shrug of your shoulders, Eddie opens the oven to come face to face with the golden egg. “There ya are. Now, what’s so special about you?” His left hand reaches in, wedding ring glinting off the light in the back of the oven, and grabs the last prize. Strolling back over to the table, Eddie pops open the egg, and you feel your stomach erupting in a flurry of excitement.

There’s a piece of paper rolled around some type of stick. Eddie’s brow furrows in confusion as he unravels the paper. Once it’s opened flat, he stares at it for a moment before it registers what he’s looking at. The black background with the white and gray lines, numbers and letters that don’t make a whole lot of sense to him on the edges of the paper—but he recognizes your name in the top left corner. But the little white bean shape in the middle of the paper is what steals his breath. Suddenly, he remembers the stick that was also in the egg. He scrambles to look at it and is staring at two pink lines on the front of a white pregnancy test. Eddie’s jaw drops open as his eyes dart back and forth from the positive pregnancy test to the ultrasound photo.

“Y-You’re…” Eddie stutters out, unable to get out anything else as he raises his eyes to look at you. The tears you see there get you all choked up as well—as if you hadn’t been emotional enough.

“Yeah,” you say with a breathy chuckle. “We’re gonna have a baby.”

“Holy shit.” Eddie sets the contents of the bonus egg down on the table and pulls you into his arms, immediately attaching his lips to yours. You can feel tears on your face, but when you open your eyes, you’re not sure if they’re yours or your husband’s. Bringing your thumbs up to wipe at his cheeks, you let out a soft giggle.

“Still think I couldn’t top that keychain?” you tease. Eddie laughs and presses his lips to yours again. When he pulls back, his hands roam down to your stomach, where he rubs gently over your pajamas.

“I can’t believe our baby is in there,” he says in awe. His eyes dart back up to yours. “I love you so much, baby.”

“I love you, too.”

“M’gonna be a dad,” Eddie says in pure glee.

“Best Easter ever?” you ask.

“Not sure how you can top it.”

But again, he’s wrong.

Four years later, you sit on the back patio of Steve and Nancy’s house, Nancy in the chair next to you, and Steve out on the grass with their five-year-old daughter and two-year-old son. On the opposite side of the yard, Eddie is crouched down near the small garden, your three-year-old daughter searching for the eggs that the Easter bunny had hidden. Or rather, you and Nancy had hidden a few hours ago, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

“Got one!” you hear Annie call. Eddie’s face lights up in delight as your daughter reaches into the foliage and pulls out a blue egg with yellow dots.

“Look at that!” Eddie coos, pure adoration in his eyes. “You got another one.”

The scene of him in his black jeans and a black leather jacket, squatting down in a garden full of colorful blooms with bright green stems, and your little girl in a pale pink Easter dress, makes you chuckle. But there’s nothing brighter in the whole yard than the look on Eddie’s face. Love is radiating off of him as Annie places the egg in her magenta wicker basket and gets right back to searching for the next one.

“Think he’s having a good Easter?”

You look at Nancy to see her nodding her head at Eddie. Grinning, you look back to your husband as well.

“Not sure if he can top this one.”

[animereaderinsertwriter]

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags/Warnings: bakugou x fem!reader, mdni, smut, group sex, almost crack treated seriously? whatever it's goofy and funny and lewd and doesn't take anything seriously at all so there's that, no beta we die like men

Final Word Count: 3k

Plot summary: Dynamight's agency has a reputation that they earn only once a year- and this year, you're invited!

Excerpt:

They called it the Love Shack.

You’d heard Mina talk about it forever and ever— this magical, midsummer day of sex and scandal— but never with any names, and never in any kind of detail. It was like a lewd fairy tale that your best friend told you at sleepovers to pass the time. It was a fun, juicy little piece of gossip, a part of Mina that you got to keep all to yourself. 

Until, one day, she asked you if you’d want to come with her.

(No pun intended).

There were… rumors about pro-hero Dynamight’s agency.

The ominous, omnipotent they said that there were wild parties at Mina Ashido’s place on every second Friday of the week— nothing illegal, sure, but plenty immoral, with everyone drunk and half-dressed and writhing—

Ahem. Right.

Other theys said that Red Riot was having an affair on his wife with his best friend, Dynamight; still others claimed the same of Pinky and Cellophane when Ejirou and Mina’s baby came out with a shock of black hair (nevermind the numerous brands of red hair dye that Red Riot publicly reviewed when he used them to cover up his own naturally jet-black hair). If a body looked hard enough, they might even find tabloid articles about Chargebolt’s drinking problem, Hitoshi Shinsou’s secret life as a rentboy, and Earphone Jack’s moonlight job as a dominatrix. No matter how you sliced it, there was one thing that all the theys agreed on:

As far as the public was concerned, Ground Zero was one giant den of depravity.

Why the theys thought this, it is generally unclear— though it was nonetheless true, if only for one day out of the year. For three hundred and sixty-four days out of the year, the members of Ground Zero behaved impeccably, navigating the world of pro-hero fame with dignity, grace, and humility; as far as anyone could prove, they were all perfectly normal. On the one day of the year that they were not well-behaved, well, no one else was around to see it. They traveled long and far to ensure that fact.

At least, that was the way it was supposed to be. Why the damn fools wanted to change that, Bakugou had no idea.

“It’s because you never participate,” Mina told him one evening, her hand gliding through her husband’s soft hair. “We feel like you’re left out.”

“I do participate,” he huffed, his infernal cheeks burning at just the thought. “Just— by myself.”

That is to say, he liked to watch. The idea of being touched by someone other than himself— by his friends— was entirely too much. There was a certain power in touch of that kind. Bakugou wasn’t interested in giving that up, not even to the men and women he trusted with his life.

“That’s exactly it,” she told him, and Enjirou groaned as she scratched his scalp. “It’s not that any of us mind, but you look— you always look pained. And lonely. Would it be so bad to find somebody you could play with while we’re all… indisposed?”

Bakugou tried not to think of those times. If he did, he’d pop a stiffy right here in the middle of the Kirishima family living room. 

“I’m fine like it always is— I don’t see why anything has to change, Mina. Really, just leave it.”

Mina frowned. Perfectly in sync with his wife, Ejirou shifted to look up at Bakugou with dark, pleading eyes.

“C’mon, man,” he said, that reflective gaze piercing Bakugou’s very heart. “Would you be okay with us just looking for someone for you? It won’t need to go any farther than that if you don’t want it to.”

It was a stupid idea. It was monumentally idiodic to even consider saying yes— but Bakugou never could deny his best friend anything.

“It’s three weeks until June,” he said, relenting. “You have until then.”

Mina beamed, and Ejirou gave him a soft smile that made Bakugou feel a little sick and squishy inside.

“Thanks, bro,” Ejirou told him, patting his thigh with a large, warm hand. “You won’t be disappointed.”

Bakugou wasn’t sure about all that. He was beginning to think he might be in some trouble.

***

They called it the Love Shack.

You’d heard Mina talk about it forever and ever— this magical, midsummer day of sex and scandal— but never with any names, and never in any kind of detail. It was like a lewd fairy tale that your best friend told you at sleepovers to pass the time. It was a fun, juicy little piece of gossip, a part of Mina that you got to keep all to yourself. 

Until, one day, she asked you if you’d want to come with her.

(No pun intended).

“And do what?” you laughed. “I’d like to be a fly on the wall, sure, but my tastes run a little more monogamous than that.”

“Well,” said Mina, leaning in conspiratorially as though the both of you weren’t cuddling on her bed while her husband rubbed her feet, “We have a friend who also likes to watch, if you know what I mean. He just— needs something a little… less than the group stuff. He sits in the corner by himself and fucks his hand until he’s nearly raw with it, but keeps on going because he’s just so…”

Mina trailed off, her eyes glazing over as she remembered some unspoken memory. After a moment, she shook her head and snapped out of it.

“He sounds kinda like a loser,” you admitted, cracking a grin. 

Mina laughed, and Ejirou chuckled right along with her.

“If only he could hear you now,” Ejirou laughed. “He’d either die of shame or implode the building.”

You frowned. 

“You’re not building a convincing case for him, Kirishima-kun.”

Mina rolled her eyes.

“Look, you said you’re in a dry spell?” she asked, and you nodded. “This guy will pop you like a fucking glowstick as many times as you want. He’s freaky good at sex.”

“And how would you know?” you demanded, shoving her lightly. “Apparently he won’t come within three feet of you!”

Things got awfully quiet, and Ejirou Kirishima’s face turned as red as his hair.

“No,” you laughed, but when no one denied it, your jaw went slack. “No!”

“Yes,” Mina replied, poorly stifling a laugh.

Ejirou hid his face in his hands.

“Guys, please,” he begged, but there was no way you were letting him go that easily.

“Oh no no, you’re not getting out of this,” you laughed. “Who is this mystery guy, and how do you know what he’s like in bed?”

“We went to U.A. together,” said Mina, patting her poor husband’s hand. “They had a whirlwind romance senior year, fucked like rabbits the whole time until he finally broke it off because they really, really were better off as friends. Otherwise, it got… obsessive. On both sides.”

You were burning with curiosity.

“Who? Who was it, Mina-chan?”

“You gotta give your answer first,” said Ejirou, propping up on his elbow. “Will you or won’t you?”

Oh, who were you kidding? You were fucking horny all the time, and besides, the suspense was killing you!

“Of course I’ll go—now tell me who it is!”

Mina smirked.

“Katsuki Bakugou.”

You nearly fell off the bed.

“Why the fuck didn’t you lead with that, Mina?” 

Your heart was racing. That evil, wicked, acid-slinging she-witch knew you’d had the biggest crush on him forever! Dynamight was the hottest pro-hero working, damn it— you'd have agreed immediately if she'd told you! 

“Because you needed to know he’s a loser!” she insisted. “Because he is a loser! A big one, that needs you to keep him from killing himself via orgasm!”

“Mina!”

“What? It’s the truth!”

“Mina!”

And that was how you ended up like this.

The room was cozy, complete with soft vintage furniture and colorful afghans. Somehow, the entire party had managed to fit comfortably into the living room of the quaint, countryside cabin, and you watched on in awe and wonder as everyone kissed and touched and let their instincts lead them as they went. 

"Can I touch you, Bakugou-san?" you asked, entranced. 

Bakugou, who was currently the color of a freshly-picked cherry, wouldn't even look at you. You tried not to take it personally when he replied in the negative. 

All around you, Bakugou's friends were in various states of undress. Hitoshi Shinsou was kissing Mina with a hand up her shirt as Denki Kaminari rubbed his long, bobbing cock against Hitoshi's boxer-clad ass. Ejirou's eyes were closed as Sero Hanta helped him out of his shirt, and Kyoka Jirou was fiddling with the buttons on Sero's ridiculously tight pants. They were all ridiculously, unfairly beautiful— and, unlike Bakugou, they were all sneaking nosy looks at you, curious and perhaps a bit hungry. 

In hindsight, it would have been a better idea for you and Bakugou to start alone together in a separate room. That would have allowed the two of you to get to know each other more intimately in a private setting, and surely it would have made him more comfortable, wouldn't it? Well, maybe that would have made it worse. You certainly couldn't imagine trying to take your clothes off in front of him if he was just as unresponsive then as he was now. 

Now, though, there were other folks watching— and you didn't see a reason to deprive them of a show. 

Slowly, you removed the silky dress separating your itchy, awful lingerie from the open air. Grinning at Mina, who was currently in the process of bending over a couch cushion, you unhooked the clasp of your black lacy bra, baring your breasts to the chill of the room. 

"Mira," Sero murmured to Jirou, his eyes fixed on newly-revealed flesh. "Isn't she beautiful?"

Jirou grinned, her eyes shadowed with a thin veil of appreciation. 

"She is. If you don't want her, Katsuki, we'll take her— no harm, no foul."

Your cheeks glowed at the compliment, heart racing at the thought. 

"Back off," Bakugou snapped. "You fuckers picked her out for me, didn't you?"

Still, he made no move to touch you— but his eyes were now yours, for better or for worse. 

"That's right," you agree, voice soothing and even as you smile at him. "I'm afraid I'm reserved for the day."

And just like that, Bakugou turned away, as though ashamed. 

This would not do. 

Projecting confidence you did not feel, you moved from your spot on the loveseat and onto the floor in front of Bakugou, kneeling sweetly. Crimson eyes watched you, guarded, wary; you placed a hand on top of his, testing the waters, and he allowed you to take it. Gently, you placed the callused palm of it on your cheek. It was warm and a little sweaty against your flesh, and heavy where you held it. 

“You have big hands,” you noted, turning slightly to press a kiss to his wrist. “They’re very pretty, too.”

Bakugou grunted, but did not pull away. Allowed this far, you decided to push for more; you pulled away, then pressed kisses to the pads of his fingers, allowing him to become acclimated to your touch. When he still did not resist, you figured it was all or nothing— you wrapped your lips around a long, thick digit and sucked it into your mouth, simulating oral.

“Fuck,” he swore, and you knew you had him.

Slowly, you pulled off of his finger with a wet pop. The next thing you knew, his mouth was on yours, the smoky scent of his aftershave enveloping you. Big hands caged your face, holding you still; surprisingly soft lips nudged against your own, and the moment was so tender that you nearly lost yourself in it, forgetting momentarily the larger context of what they were there to do.

A rowdy wolf-whistle made sure that didn’t last, though. 

Distracted, you turned to grin at Kaminari— doubtless the guilty wolf-whistler— but sudden pain burned in the form of fingerprints on your jaw, turning your gaze back to meet Bakugou’s. 

“Eyes up here, sweetheart.”

You shivered. 

“Yes sir,” you replied, allowing yourself a small smile, and Bakugou grinned in return.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

What came next was more than you had expected. With pro-hero strength, Bakugou lifted you bodily from the floor and sat you on his lap, your knees on either side of his hips. His sweats were soft against your skin, but there was little time to process anything else before his mouth was on your tits, tongue dragging across a peaked nipple. Startled, you moaned, and a large, warm hand squeezed at your hip, pulling you down to feel the hardness growing in his pants. The length of him brushed against your sex as you started grinding, encouraging his erection; the stimulation was muted but perfect as he played with your tits, leaving his mark across bare flesh with lips and tongue and teeth. 

"So fucking pretty," he murmured against your flesh, his breath hot and his hands heavy. "I want to fuck you." 

"That is what we're here for," you teased, but all laughter left as the thong you were wearing ripped beneath his hands, falling uselessly from your hips. 

"Turn around. I want you to watch them with me while I get you off."

You turned your head over your shoulder, following Bakugou's gaze. Mina was spread-eagle on the couch, watching you from upside-down as Shinsou ate her out. Somewhat strangely, his eyes were on you as well. This became something of a trend; you and Bakugou, it seemed, had the attention of the entire room. 

"Yeah," you agreed, dismounting his legs in order to turn around. "Yeah, I like that."

When you returned to your seat, facing the rest of the room, Bakugou's thighs were bare. The soft down of his hair tickled the backs of your thighs, which might have made you laugh if something warm and large hadn't brushed your entrance, forcing you to catch your breath. A hand moved to your hip, squeezing the fat of it, and then Bakugou was pushing inside you, filling you with length and girth that you wouldn't previously have credited him with. You felt… fuller than you had expected to be, and the sensation left you moaning at the penetration. 

"Mm, fuck yeah," he growled, his lips close to your neck, raising the small hairs there. "Moan for me, baby."

There was a noise behind you, and then damp fingers snuck around your waist and then between your legs, searching for your pleasure. His thick middle finger circled your clit, and almost involuntary, your hips bucked, shifting the long, hard cock inside you at a different angle. You moved again, chasing that feeling, and soon you were riding Bakugou in earnest, fucking yourself on his cock. 

In front of you, Ejirou was slowly stretching Sero"s ass, murmuring praise with a smile like sunshine. Sero, whose cock was in Jirou's mouth, made eye contact with you and winked, speaking fragments of Spanish that you couldn't decipher. Across the way, Mina was being spit roasted by Shinsou and Kaminari, who were sucking on each other's tongues as they took their pleasure from her. The whole scene was graphic and lewd and terrible and wonderful, and you couldn't think of anything that was quite so terrific when Bakugou managed to exceed your expectations, prying his lips away from your neck long enough to say,

"Fuck yeah, princess, you're so fucking hot. Lean back, lean back— I'm gonna hold you up and fuck you hard."

Before you could protest, he manhandled you backwards, crushing you against his still-clothed chest. He made good on his promise of fucking you hard— his hips rutted up into yours with strength and purpose, filling you up and stretching you out, forcing himself further inside with every thrust. His finger on your clit was relentless; it was all you could do just to breathe and tremble and shake and take all he had to give. 

"You close?" he grunted, never slowing. 

"Yeah," you confessed, almost embarrassed by it. "Yeah, m'really close."

"Good." Relief was evident in his voice. "Me too."

In the space of a few strokes more, you found your peak. With Bakugou groaning in your ear, you came hard and fast, your orgasm crashing over your head with the force of a falling oak. Bakugou, not far behind, actually lifted you up and off of his cock before he came, spilling hot seed over both your thighs. Really, it was ridiculous how much he came; looking at the volume he spilled, you almost wanted to feel it inside of you. 

In the afterglow, Bakugou was still a beast. Seemingly unbothered by the strength he'd had to exert in the last few minutes, he shifted you bodily until your back was against the loveseat and he was above you, straddling your thighs and kissing your mouth with the hunger of a starving panther. His cock, long and heavy even soft, twitched as you moved your hands up his thighs and to the curve where his hips met his back.

"I want to suck you off," you told him, filterless as you thought of his big, heavy-looking balls in your mouth. "Wanna feel you get hard in my mouth."

"In a minute," he said, taking his shirt off, expression tender  "I want to enjoy you for a little while more."

This part— the ravenous hunger followed by strange softness— found you woefully unprepared. Your heart pounded as his hands grew gentle, touching you like a lover would; how could you ever have prepared for such sweet exploration? Even his kisses had lost their bite, and were now soothing and something more than they'd been before. 

All around you, the others were reaching their own climaxes. Moans echoed throughout the cabin, but in the here and now, all of that seemed distant, fading. All of a sudden, you were intensely glad that Mina had asked you to come here, to experience this with them— but you were especially glad that it was just you and Bakugou, separate from the rest of them as he gave you his kindness and attention as well as his passion.

Really, you thought as Bakugou lowered his head between your legs, you wouldn't have it any other way. 

[yikesharringrove]

He didn’t mean to hightail it straight to the nearest bar. He didn’t even know what a dive bar a was doing out in the fucking backwoods of Indiana, anyway.

Billy’d just gotten in a big fuckin’ fight with his old man, shimmied out the window of their new house, and started walking.

And he happened across a bar.

He didn’t have his wallet on him, rookie move, but he figured his black eye and three-day-old moving stubble might help him out a bit here.

The bouncer gave him an odd look, glaring him down as he approached, but let him pass without asking for identification.

There were motorcycles parked in the gravel lot, along with some sensible looking Mom Cars.

It was dim inside, and the floor was kinda sticky, but they were playing Patti Smith on a shitty jukebox, so he decided to stay.

He took a seat at the bar.

The bartender gave him the same funny look the bouncer did. She was one hell of a woman, her leather jacket had a pair of handcuffs sewn onto the front, she had her nose, lips, and eyebrows pierced. Her hair was greying and cropped into a very similar crew cut to Neil’s.

“What’ll it be?”

“Whiskey, please. And maybe a beer, Darling.” He winked.

She laughed.

“Honey, you know where you are, right? This is a fuckin’ dyke bar, and you’re no older than sixteen. You’ll have a pop and you’ll be grateful for it.” She had a slight southern drawl to her voice. Texas. Like his mom.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, quit it with that shit.” She scooped ice into a glass, and poured him a cola from the well. “Why you here? It got somethin’ to do with that shiner?”

He took a long drink of the soda.

He didn’t know if it was her voice, or the fact that for the first time in a long time, he was with his own people.

“Yeah.”

“Someone at home?”

“Yeah.”

“‘Cause you’re a homo?”

“Yeah.”

She smiled at him, although this one wasn’t the sad one he’d been expecting. It was understanding.

“We’ll, Baby. You come here if you ever need a safe place to roost, okay? We all know when one of our own needs saving. You come here, and you ask for Susan, and we’ll get your mind off that bruise.”

He took another long drink of his soda, but this time, to try and swallow down the stupid sob that was trying to force its way out.

“Thank you. I’m, I didn’t realize what kind of bar this is. I didn’t really know that people like us were out here. My dad, he, uh, moved us here. From California. He caught me with a boy.” He averted his gaze from Susan’s face, making patterns in the condensation on the side of his glass. Patti Smith turned over to The Runaways. Some women were dancing by the jukebox now. “He told me we were coming here so I couldn’t do any of that fairy shit.” He furrowed his brow on the last line, puffing up his chest in an imitation of his father.

“Just because people hate us more here, doesn’t mean we don’t exist. Queers live everywhere, whether people like your daddy like it or not. He can’t stop us from living any better than he can stop the sun from rising.”

Susan scooped some ice into a clean bar towel, securing it closed with the yellow crunchy around her wrist. She slid it across the bar to Billy, and he put it on his eye gratefully.

“Don’t lose that scrunchy. That’s my wife’s favorite one, and she won’t speak to me for a month if I give it to some kid.”

“Yeah? Your old lady a hardass?” Billy grinned.

There was something, so fucking good, about talking to Susan. Talking to an actual fucking grown up. Someone with a life, and a partner. A queer, like him, who actually found love. And, by the dreamy grin on her face, had found happiness.

“Hollie would yell herself hoarse is she heard you call her old. She don’t look a day over thirty-five, she’ll tell you. We’ve been together for over twenty years. That’s why she’s my wife. We can’t get married yet, but she’s not my fucking girlfriend. We’re not silly high schoolers goin’ to the prom, and shit. No offense.”

“Nah, I may be a silly high schooler, but I’d rather be dead than go to any prom. Especially with a girl. No offense.”

“Hey, you’re in my bar, and we don’t allow bad talk about women. Unless you ex-girl fucked you over. Then we talk a whole lotta shit.” She refilled Billy’s soda. “But you could always go with a friend.”

“I’ve lived in this town for four days, I don’t have any friends, let alone a beard. Maybe if I did, my dad wouldn’t’ve popped me tonight.”

Susan’s smile faltered a little bit.

“Sweetie, I don’t like to interfere. And I know that most of the time, getting CPS involved makes it worse. But Baby, are you safe? I know he hits you, but do you think he’d-” she trailed off. “I’ve just seen some shit, you know? Boys like you with fathers like yours. Boys that didn’t survive.”

“Everything my dad does, is because he’s scared of how people see him. He’s terrified that people won’t think he’s a great father or a respectable citizen. I don’t think he’d get that low.”

But, in truth, Billy didn’t know.

He’s been getting hits from his dad since he was a kid. And there are times when Billy had thought well, this is it.

But Susan was right. CPS never did anything but piss off his dad.

Susan looked thoughtful.

She grabbed a napkin, and pulled a pen out of her leather jacket.

“I’m giving you the number here. You call if you need anything. We take care of our own, okay?” He nodded in response. “Finish your pop, and get back on home. I’m sure you have a curfew to mind.”

Billy winced, looking up at Susan, feeling like such shit after her kindness.

“I don’t have my wallet.”

“Yeah, you don’t have shoes on either, Dumbass.” She winked at him again. “Holl!” She shouted towards the group of women dancing by the jukebox. “This little birdie needs a ride!”

A short woman came drifting over. Her hair was dark black, and swept clear below her ass. She could’ve sat on it and not noticed.

The scrunchy made sense.

She was short, much shorter than Susan, but she beamed up at her, turning to smile just as warmly at Billy.

“What’s your name, kiddo?”

“Billy.”

It was kind of nice, being called terms of endearment by these two women. He liked that they weren’t trying to pull one over on him. He felt safe.

Susan slid a set of keys to Hollie.

“Take Billy home, please. We don’t need him walking around outside.”

Hollie ushered Billy out of his seat, climbing in the stool herself to lean over the bar. She and Susan kissed over the bar, and that funny hopeful feeling washed over Billy again.

“You’re welcome here whenever you want, Baby. You’re not the first little gay boy we’ve had in here, and you won’t be the last. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Thank you, seriously, I-thank you.”

Susan beamed at him, sliding Hollie’s yellow scrunchy back in her wrist.

[saraanzu]

bsd speculation: what’s up with this girl in bram’s flashback from 107.5, and what can we learn about her from dracula?

(prefacing this with some rambling… actual analysis starts after the readmore)

107.5 came out the same day as the s5 trailer and it was right after an exciting mersault chapter which is the vastly more popular pov and it was a whopping 9 pages - it was bound to be disliked. I won’t pretend a 9-page chapter isn’t disappointing (no idea why recent chapters have been so short - I hope they get a bit longer again when s5 is done airing?) and I think it’s fine to prefer the mersault storyline but I’ve also seen some god-awful takes about this chapter.

aya and bram aren’t side characters! they have been core to bsd’s plot ever since their introductions (in aya’s case, her re-introduction) and you can dislike them all you want but it’s objectively incorrect to claim they aren’t important to the story.

I also don’t agree with the take that 107.5 didn’t further the plot at all - obviously not a lot can happen in, again, 9 pages (that’s 1/3 the length of 107!) but aya deciding to remove bram’s sword and him actually encouraging her to do it even when he doesn’t believe it’s possible and previously told her not to is a huge turning point in the story! 107.5 certainly isn’t a favorite of mine but I will say we’ve had (slightly) longer chapters in recent months that had more exposition and setup with less plot.

I’ve seen some people worry that, because bram pictures someone who looks like aya in what’s presumably a wedding dress, bram and aya’s relationship is going in a creepy direction. I want to make it clear that no matter who this flashback girl is, even if she’s bram’s dead lover and/or aya in a previous life, I highly highly doubt that anything weird is going to happen between bram and aya. their relationship hasn’t been set up like that at all, in fact bram has parallels with aya’s father and he explicitly sees her as a child (more on that later) (look. bsd is not above using some Weird Tropes. in particular, the tanizakis and mori come to mind (and in mori’s case, it doesn’t even really function as a reference to the irl author - vitas sexualis has nothing to do with pedophillia!) but it’s important to mention that, while I wish those tropes weren’t in bsd at all because they’re unnecessary and add nothing of value to the characters, they are ultimately gags and nothing more. they don’t really set a precedent for how weird asagiri is willing to get when it comes to legitimately serious plot points.)

okay! got it all out of my system here’s the actual post

part 1: the dress

personally, when I first read 107.5, I didn’t think this girl was in a wedding dress. my initial assumption was “this must be bram’s daughter, she’s wearing some sort of tiara and bram was a nobleman”. but looking at it again, it does resemble one, and we should consider how bram’s backstory might reference dracula.

“the brides of dracula” are three seductive vampire ladies who live in count dracula’s castle and attempt to feed on jonathan harker early on in the book before being stopped by dracula, who chastises them for trying to eat harker and feeds them a human baby instead.

while they are known as dracula’s brides in pop culture and are often portrayed as such in movie adaptations, they go unnamed in the original novel and their relation to dracula is unclear. from what we see of them they refer to each other as “sisters”, although perhaps not in the literal sense. two of them have dark hair and are described as having similar facial features to dracula while the third is blonde, which may imply the third is dracula’s wife and the other two are his daughters. I imagine they’re pretty vague and mysterious on purpose, they could be dracula’s wives/sisters/daughters, or even just some vampire ladies crashing at his house.

however, I don’t think we should disregard details exclusive to adaptations of dracula and only focus on the original book when thinking about bsd. film adaptations of the book are actually more influential on dracula’s perception in pop-culture than the book itself, so it’s not unlikely that asagiri would reference elements that appeared in adaptations but not the novel.

so, because of “the brides of dracula”, I think it’s quite possible this girl is indeed a bride. she does look a bit young for it, but I’ve seen others say they think she looks older than aya, so I guess that’s subjective (and people would get married younger in bram’s time I suppose).

that doesn’t mean she has to be bram’s bride - again, the “brides” in the original novel have no explicit relation to dracula and could easily be his daughters or sisters, and I really do think her being his daughter instead makes more sense thematically.

part 2: her relation to bram

I believe bram subtly parallels aya’s father in a few ways. aya’s dad is verbally and physically abusive, and he berates aya for not being good at traditionally feminine activities. he doesn’t see her for what she is, a child, and instead expects her to be a perfect traditional woman.

right before we see this flashback, bram is surprised by aya’s age, and comments that she is “too young to even use a spinning wheel” (also a traditionally feminine activity). both of them question aya’s desire/ability to be an ally of justice but for different reasons: aya’s father finds it unladylike while bram finds it too big a task for a little girl (he is also sleepy)

I didn’t understand the point of this scene’s inclusion before, but in retrospect I think it serves as foreshadowing for bram’s flashback and demonstrates how he and aya’s father both associate aya with dead people, but this causes them to treat her differently.

aya will never live up to her father’s expectations because she can’t compete with his idealized memories of the dead. her own accomplishments are irrelevant in his eyes because she isn’t enough like the wife and daughter he lost. I suspect his grief is part of the reason he’s so horrible to her in the first place.

it’s the opposite case with bram. in his eyes aya does compare to someone who he remembers fondly, and the end of 107.5 implies that’s the very reason he’s okay with aya pulling the sword out.

I don’t necessarily see bram as a father figure to aya (to me he’s more of a weird creature who’s sort of grown fond of her after being unwillingly dragged around… but hey, who says that can’t be a dad?) but I do think it’s possible that this mystery girl was bram’s daughter in the past because of how he parallels aya’s father.

(note: she has normal human ears rather than pointy ones, but bram was turned into a vampire by his ability and wasn’t bitten or born as one, so I don’t know if he’d necessarily pass down his vampirism to his children. he also may have developed his ability after becoming a father, or his daughter could even be adopted).

part 3: her relation to aya

the most common idea I’ve seen to explain the resemblance between these two is that aya is a reincarnation of this flashback girl. introducing reincarnation out of nowhere seems a bit random even for bsd, but surprisingly this theory does have some basis.

in the movie bram stoker’s dracula (1992), the character mina harker, jonathan’s fiancé, is a reincarnation of dracula’s long-dead lover, elisabeta. dracula recognizes her as a reincarnation due to their resemblance and mina agrees to assist him, still harboring feelings and memories from her past life. it’s fairly common for dracula adaptations to portray dracula and/or mina as having romantic feelings for each other, but this isn’t really the case in the novel, and elisabeta is entirely an invention of this particular movie.

so, aya being a reincarnation of a girl bram once knew could work as a reference to this. I did say previously that I think it’s possible asagiri will reference adaptations of dracula and not just the novel, but I’m not so sure he would make something specific to one particular adaptation a major part of bram’s backstory.

personally, I’m partial to the idea that aya’s ability will be introduced soon, and her resemblance to this flashback girl may have something to do with it. (the ability idea and reincarnation idea aren’t inherently contradictory, aya’s ability could very well be reincarnation)

this theory by @jo-dieeee suggests that aya’s ability is called mirror, due to the discussion of mirrors in 107.5 and the book above.

mirror: the fiction and essays of koda aya isn’t actually a book written by irl koda, nor is it just a collection of her stories. it was written by ann sherif and discusses koda’s life and works, including some translations of her short stories in the second part. however, the existence of this book and aya emphasizing mirrors in 107.5 is quite an interesting coincidence! whether or not it’s called mirror, I’m fairly confident an ability reveal is coming up.

it’s also worth bringing up that aya’s resemblance to this mystery firl might not have a supernatural explanation at all. it could easily be an artistic choice simply made to indicate that bram is reminiscing about someone who aya reminds him of. I’m not too into the reincarnation idea myself.

[yetanothergreyjedi]

Left and Returned: Definitely Nothing Wrong

Danny Phantom x Supernatural Crossover

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Ao3 (includes additional notes)

Chapter 6:

"Did the police find any razors in the rest of the candy, Mrs. Wallace?" Dean listens to his brother interview the victim's wife as he searches for anything ‘weird.’ 

"No, I mean, I don’t think so… I just – I can’t believe it. You hear urban legends about this stuff, but it actually happens?"

"More than you might imagine."

Dean finds it, the hex bag stuffed between the fridge and the counter. He holds it up behind the widow's back so Sam can see. 

Sam sighs, "Mrs. Wallace, did Luke have any enemies? Anyone who might have held a grudge against him?"

"No, and if someone wanted to kill my husband, don’t you think they’d find a better way than  razors in a single piece of candy when there's an entire bag?"

And the lady would have a point, if they weren't dealing with a witch.

---

Dean bit into the chocolate, it was the cheap stuff that people didn't mind giving out for free, even when it he was and adult man two days before the holiday. It was too sweet and had a weird after taste. Not great but worth it when Sam made a face.

"Really?"

"It's Halloween, man."

There's a rustling sound, Danny pulls another candy from its wrapper. He pops it into his mouth.

"You too? After the the razor blades?"

"I don't mind a few metal bits, adds crunch."

"Seriously?" Dean turns to the kid, who's watching them innocently, "You chowing down on sheet metal when we're not looking?"

"I might be, you'll neeever know."

"Uh-huh." Dean was pretty sure he was messing with them. Pretty sure. "Find anything interesting Sammy?"

"Hexbag has some serious stuff. This plant has been extinct for 200 years, this coin looks real, 600 years old real... and this," Sam lifts the little burned thing. "Is the charred metacarpal bone of a newborn baby."

"Gross. Witches man, I hate'm."

"Well, we're dealing with a powerful one. Getting stuff like this, wouldn't be easy."

"That or they're super rich." Danny offers. 

"What would a super rich guy get out killing a soccer dad?"

"Wants revenge on the guy who married his college sweetheart who got away?"

"Uh... sure? Do you have a name?" Sam asks.

"No, I was just throwing out possibilities."

"So we have nothing."

---

Then there was the second hex bag in a random high-schooler's party, a girl boiled alive in room temperature water. 

"Maybe this witch isn’t working the grudge, maybe they’re working a spell..." Sam skims over an old creepy book. "Three blood sacrifices over three days, the last before midnight on the final day of the final harvest. Celtic Calendar, the final day of the final harvest is October 31st."

"That's an incredibly inefficient way to summon Frighty." Danny mumbles. 

"Frighty?"

"Fright Knight, Spirit of Halloween."

"The demon the witch is trying to summon, Samhain? You know him." Sam clarified, Dean watched the kid carefully.

"Not by that name.” He flopped back on the unclaimed bed that would probably Dean's but was currently serving as a couch. “Names are important. And he's not a Demon he's a spirit."

"Samhain, the origin of Halloween, the Samhain the Celts believed in.  October 31st was the night of the year when the veil was the thinnest between the living and the dead, Samhain’s night. I mean, masks were put on to hide from him, sweets left on doorsteps to appease him, faces carved into pumpkins to worship him. He was exorcised centuries ago."

"And in those centuries Halloween changed, became trick-or-treating, pranks, parties, candy and horror movies. The idea of Halloween itself, the spirit of Halloween. Fright Knight shed his old name and became something to reflect that. He won't like you dredging up past identity."

"You're sure you don't just know a different guy?" Dean asked. He wouldn't believe this if he hadn't still had the Autumn Dance's song echoing in his dreams.

"Yeah, Frighty's sensitive about it."

"So this witch is summoning what? More Halloween fun?"

"No, he'll be mad. Probably send her to a nightmare realm, but it won't go past that."

"Well... good."

"And you're sure?" Sam asks, "According to this once he's raised he can do raising of his own."

"Frighty wouldn't."

"Alright... still we should find this witch before she kills anyone else."

"Of course."

---

A whole day of stakeout to find out that the cheerleader had lied to their faces, she'd had access to both houses, claiming to never have heard of the Wallace's. Then they find her history of violence, the fact that she's emancipated and very well could be living fake ID to fake ID.

Finding her on the other hand... was proving more difficult. 

Danny had even walked them through a couple of front doors, like straight through the front door, like they were the ghosts. It was weird, and cold, and super useful even though it didn't amount to much. 

They needed a gameplan. And a gameplan seemed much more likely to drop into their lap when Danny opens the motel door and says, "Oh, hi Castiel! 

"Danny," Castiel greets, "Dean. Sam."

"Oh my God!– er– uh– I didn’t mean to– sorry. It’s an honor, really, I– I’ve heard a lot about you." Sam expertly fumbles as he moves out of the entryway. 

"And I, you. Sam Winchester... The boy with the demon blood... Glad to see you’ve ceased your extracurricular activities." Wow... awkward. 

"Let’s keep it that way." Adds a guy staring ominously out the window.

"Yeah, okay, chuckles." Dean turns to Castiel. "Who’s your friend?"

"The raising of Samhain, have you stopped it?"

"Not yet, what's it to you?"

"Have you found the witch?"

"We know who she is."

"Is she dead?"

"Why do you care so much?"

"The raising of Samhain is one of the 66 seals."

"So this is about your buddy Lucifer."

"Lucifer is no friend of ours." Says nameless angel #2.

"It’s just an expression."

"Lucifer cannot rise. The breaking of the seal must be prevented at all costs. And the witch knows who you are." Castiel lifts a Hexbag.

"This was inside the wall of your room. If we hadn’t found it, surely one or both of you would be dead. Do you know where the witch is now?"

"I would've found it. I only just got back." Danny defends and both angels' attention snap to him. 

Danny has offended #2 "You cannot be certain of—" 

"It's a pretty strong energy, I doubt some drywall would stifle it much." 

"Regardless. You need to leave this town immediately." 

"Why?"

"Because we’re about to destroy it." Castiel informs them. And Dean expects it when the air goes cold. The angel's shift uneasily, but they don't pin Danny as the source.

"Your plan is to smite the whole friggin’ town?"

"We’re out of time. This witch has to die, the seal must be saved."

"There are a thousand people here." Sam argues

"One thousand two hundred fourteen." #2 corrects.

"And you’re willing to kill them all?" Dean can hear Sam's faith shattering, and he hates these guys even more.

"This isn’t the first time I’ve… purified a city." #2 tells them

"It is regrettable." Castiel sympathizes.

"Regrettable?"

"We have to hold the line. Too many seals have broken already."

"And we're just supposed to let you?" Danny asks. "Because of your apocalypse's prophesied precursors?"

"It’s the lives of one thousand against the lives of six billion. There’s a bigger picture here."

"And ten years ago they said Phantom was inevitable. They said only one half'a life, against six billion. But guess what? We're all still here."

"The abomination." #2 recognizes, from whatever this story Danny is telling is. Frost snakes up the windows. Their breaths fog in the air, but #2 is undeterred. "This is not the same."

And the Angel's do notice the change, but instead of Danny, they turn to glare at Sam .

"No," Dean lies, because he doesn't want to know if Danny is being stupidly arrogant or if he actually can take these guys. Part of him knows the collateral of either outcome... he doesn't want to know. And he's ticked off, and the angels are looking at Sam like they're going to smite him for something he's not even doing. So, he bluffs, if it backfires then Danny can do whatever he planned to do. "if you’re gonna smite this whole town, then you’re gonna have to smite us with it, because we are not leaving. See, you went to the trouble of busting me out of hell. I figure I’m worth something to the man upstairs. So you wanna waste me, go ahead, see how he digs that."

"I will drag you out of here myself." #2 tells him, and just him, Dean realizes. They aren't offering to save anyone else. He's even more sure this is the right thing.

"Yeah, but you’ll have to kill me, then we’re back to the same problem. I mean, come on, you're gonna wipe out a whole town for one little witch. Sounds to me like you're compensating for something." He turns to Castiel who, oddly, is more sympathetic than his friend. "We can do this. We will find that witch and we will stop the summoning."

"Castiel! I will not let these peop–"

"Uriel, that's enough." Castiel holds up his hand, silencing #2 whose name is Uriel, apparently. Castiel watches Dean for a long moment. "I suggest you move quickly."

---

"Do you guys have this? I think I should spy on them." Danny says when, presumably, they're out of the angel's earshot.

"You trust this Halloween guy?"

"With the jewels behind the throne." At some point Dean will stop being thrown by the things the kid says. At some point.

"Right... Then they're the bigger threat. We'll figure it out, call us if they're planning a double cross."

Danny vanishes from the back seat. 

"You okay?" He asks Sam, who still looks miserable. They do say to never meet your heroes.

---

"The decision's been made." Castiel tells Uriel. Unfortunately, he does not elaborate on what decision, or what outcome has been decided on.

"By a mud monkey." Uriel laughs bitterly.

"You shouldn’t call them that."

"Ah, it’s what they are, savages, just plumbing on two legs."

Danny flips himself over the bench the angel's share, so he sits between them, upside-down so his feet hang over the backrest and his head dangles off the edge of the seat. It's not a defensible position... for someone worried about silly things like corporeal objects. "That's mean for a guy who's currently wearing a human person. At least show some respect for him."

The angels don't jump, and he didn’t really expect them too, but it's always fun when they do.

"And it's close to blasphemy." Castiel warns Uriel, but Danny heeds the warning as well. Castiel seems to be on team let-the-town-live instead of team nuclear bomb, and Danny would like it to stay that way, so he's not going to try to narrow down where in the realms these guys are from. (At least today.)

Uriel sighs, "Very well. But I do not take orders from this one, regardless of his involvement in the Abomination's unmaking."

Huh? 

"Of course not. Why are you here, Danny."

Huh? Okay normally when beings like this start throwing around words like abomination, they're talking about him.

"I'm keeping an eye on you guys. Obviously."

"We are not planning to break the seal. Your priority should be the witch."

"Yeah well, Frighty hasn't expressed desire to end an entire town."

"We are trying to prevent the end of your world." 

Danny doesn't say 'I am the end of this world.' Because he's not, because he refuses to be and they probably won’t get that he's joking. He doesn't say 'I could've been the end of this world' because... they don't seem to know that?

"Like the Observants failed to do?" He says instead and he wish- no he was disappointed he hadn't sat so he could see the angel's faces. He wonders if they have members in that group.

"The Observants succeeded." Uriel corrects. And isn't that interesting. Did the Eyeballs lie to angels? Danny wouldn't put it past them.

"No, no they didn't. They handed it off to the Timekeeper, who disobeyed. The "Abomination" just didn't feel like much destruction."

"It lives?" Uriel demanded. 

"Nothing dead lives." Danny lied. 

"It still exists, and you know where it is." Castiel guesses.

Danny stands, like a normal person would stand because apparently angels can't tell what they're talking too. Maybe it's the anti-Vladco-tracking-device device in his shoe? But yeah, standing like that means he has to awkwardly unhook his legs and climb off the bench. "Obviously."

"Where?"

"Ah, no. I thought we established that I don't trust you."

Uriel stands, fast, so fast a human might not track it. "You will tell us."

"Will you try to make me if I'm under his protection?"

Uriel stops, doesn't quite get in his face.

"The world isn't going to end." Danny tells them, it's almost a promise.

Castiel stands. "So you'll ignore what Samhain will do? Because you don't believe the seals hold power?" 

Danny sighs, “ Fright Knight , his name is Fright Knight.”

“Does his summoner know that?” Uriel asks, with the smugness of someone who knows old magic. 

“What do you know?”

---

Dean feels a little uneasy when Fright Knight rises in the dying man's body. He feels doubt when he calls the witch beautiful, hopeful, when he kills the witch, and doubt again when he calls her a whore. Like sure, but it doesn't feel like something Danny's friends would say, you know? Then again, he's Danny’s friend and he's not really above it? Maybe he's just reading into it because of Ruby, and Lilith, and every other demon who's shown utter disdain for their followers. Still, he thinks the kid would at least give the guy a disappointed look.

But Fright Knight didn't seem bothered by them playing dead on the ground, faces covered in blood because of Sam's quick thinking.

He didn't seem delighted by the trick-or-treating or the decorations like Danny said he would be. They follow him to the cemetery and arrive just in time to hear the screaming start.

They split up, Dean frees the kids and starts in on the zombies. It's easier to let the rage flow as he hacks at the hungry undead. It's easier than confronting the thought circling the back of his mind.

Danny lied. Danny lied. Danny lied.

The kid shows up around the time things start to get tight. He drives someone into one zombie's eye socket and blasts another away with some kind of green fire. It gives Dean the moment he needs to lock the rest inside their vault. 

Then Dean punches him in the face. His fist connects. Danny staggers back, clutching at his nose, but then his eyes go wide.

"The witch didn't summon those, did she?"

"Ya think?!" Dean swings with the weapon. This time the kid dodges cleanly and is running. Dean gives chase.

"Where's Sam?! If I was wrong about this, then—" he cuts himself off, deciding which path to take as it forks. Dean swings again, this time Danny blocks and disarms. Intangibility, Dean realizes, Danny simply just pulled the weapon from his hands. Then he tosses it away. "Dean, where's Sam!?"

The panic looks real. Feels real, Dean can taste it on the air. Can Danny fake that? What would be the point of pretending after he's won?

Dean shakes himself, and points in the direction Sam went. They both run in that direction.

They arrive to see Samhain throw Sam across the room.

"Fright!? What are you doing?" 

Samhain sees them, and Dean is flying backwards. He hits the wall hard.

"Fright! It's me!" Dean blinks and Danny is floating off the ground.

"You should know better," Samhain tells him, "than to use a name unclaimed by one such as me, Phantom."

"That is the name you gave to use!" Danny flies back, joining Dean in a hard impact against the wall.

"No longer!" Samhain shouts.

"No!"

"I am far more than you can ever—" Samhain chokes. Sam stands on the other end of the room, his arm outstretched. His face twisted in struggle. 

Then demonic smoke pours from the man's mouth. It crackles on the ground, Dean sees a glimpse of hellfire before it vanishes. The body Samhain inhabited, crumples to the ground.

---

"Where do you think you're going?" Dean demanded. Danny stands with the motel door half open. 

"There's something I need to do."

"After that? You think you're just walking away?!"

Danny holds the door open for him. Dean looks to Sammy.

"Want me to come too?"

"We'll talk later." Dean decides, because he doesn't want to be sidetracked by a fight with his brother. (And it will probably be a fight.) He walks out, and follows the kid down the street.

Danny pays a trick-or-treater twenty dollars for a plastic costume sword. He steals a jack-o-lantern off someone's porch, and finds a place where they're not likely to be distributed for a while.

"Are you helping, or just waiting to see if you need to shoot me?" Danny asks, there's no threat or demand in it, just weariness.

"What would I do if I was helping?" Dean asked. Danny turned the plastic blade in his hands and started carving into it with his knife. 

"I need a devil's trap." 

"You're summoning a demon?!"

"...Not if this works..."

"Explain."

"They're the same person, Fright Knight and Samhain. But the witch summoned Samhain, pulled his past self to the forefront, and Samhain rejected the new name... maybe, if I summon Fright Knight by his way... maybe it will bring him back?"

"And if you're wrong?"

"Then even if I'm making the trap, you're checking it beforehand."

Dean sighed. If the kid had been his usual joking self, he'd tell him off. But he was solemn, sad, and was etching symbols into cheap plastic like it was a gravestone.  "Can I stop you?"

"No." 

Dean sighed and started drawing. He was always careful with devil's traps. But he paid extra attention to this, he made it as detailed as he was certain of without going back to consult Bobby's books. He checked and rechecked. As Danny made his own circle in mystery sigils around the pentagram. 

"It's ready." He told the kid, who checked his own work. Then he plunged the plastic blade into the pumpkin. He said some words in a language that wasn't Latin, and slowly pulled the blade free.

The blade that emerged was not made of plastic. Dean didn't know what it was made of, but the embedded sigils matched the ones Danny had carved, and its blade looked deadly sharp. Once the entirety of the sword was pulled free, a storm began inside the pentagram.

Samhain had been exorcised from the body he'd possessed earlier. Now trapped without a vessel, he amassed into a roiling black cloud that thrashed against the invisible walls of its binding.

The storm spoke with thunder and static. Danny replied with the cracking of lake ice and the silence of an infinite nothing. 

And Dean understood. 

Rage. 

Betrayal.

Mocking. 

Demand: Return. Return. Return.

Mocking. Destruction's intent. 

Dean sees it. In a year's time, what was Fright Knight's will, will no longer be in transition. People will do as they always do, preparing in joyful tradition for a night celebrating youth and horrors that they do not have to fear. Factories will churn, parents will spend precious dollars or days crafting or both, people will carve into pumpkins and hang cobwebs and plastic imitation corpses— and they will all do so, not with the intent of warding away Halloween's Patron, but with the intent to welcome him. Such power will be Samhain's. There will be ruin unlike any humanity has seen before.

 Fury. Betrayal. 

Plea: Return.

Mocking. 

Acceptance.

"Dean, can I borrow your knife?"

The English words pull him back from... whatever that was, but not quite pulling him free. If he gives him the knife, Danny will have both it, and the sword of unknown power.

He responds with a ground scuff of readying feet,  the fabric rustle of a repositioned gun.

Danny nods, replies with a turn of the sword. He holds it by its blade, holding it out to Dean handle first.

Dean takes it. 

Danny doesn't let go for a moment. "Careful," he warns, "Soulshreader is bound. She will try to return to her master."

Dean tightens his grip on the handle and Danny releases her. Dean pulls the demon killing blade from his belt and hands it over in the same manner.

Danny steps into the circle with Samhain and Dean watches a demon die. 

Danny steps back out of the circle and chokes on his sobs.