#not being plagued by it. no one throwing a big fuss about it. no one needing to explain anything to anyone

[djarin]

the way they both sidled up to each other. the way they kissed under the moonlight. the way they set and respected each other's boundaries. the hand holding, the thumb war, the gentle smile, the "you won." this is the queer representation i needed. queer people being unapologetically queer in all the gentle, sweet ways we know.

[taintedtort]

prompt ✧ how long they last during NNN

characters ✧ albedo, kazuha, scaramouche, xiao, childe, itto

warnings ✧ gn!reader, suggestive, no nut november

authors note ✧ i know november is over already, and i didn’t plan on actually writing this prompt… but i caved. it’s a tad late but that’s ok

ALBEDO

✧ lasts 2 weeks. he’s usually busy with experiments, so when kaeya suggested this idiotic game to him, he reluctantly agreed. he had a feeling it wouldn’t be difficult at all for him, seeing as he’s artificial and doesn’t fully comprehend or have human emotions. but he was proven wrong. the first two weeks were fine, he stayed occupied like normal while still giving you the soft attention you needed. but on the two week mark, you were both getting ready for bed and it suddenly hit him. his mind was unoccupied with work matters and simply just took over with thoughts of you. you and your cute, slightly revealing pajamas. you and your soft lips. you and your beautiful moans as he pleasured you beyond satisfaction. he lost the challenge that night,

“such a tease… did you do that intentionally?”

KAZUHA

✧ 4 days. kazuha is a true romantic, and part of that romance comes intimacy. it’s a big thing for him and he can’t go without it for very long. he did try though, he knew the other crew members who forced him to participate would make fun of him for only lasting a simple four days. he’d never live it down. but god he just couldn’t help himself, everything you did unintentionally turned him on. and it was all your fault for looking and sounding so cute when you called his name, innocently requesting his attention. he couldn’t help the plagued thoughts of you underneath him, calling out his name as he made you see stars.

“you were tempting me, i just couldn’t help myself.”

SCARAMOUCHE

✧ the entire month. out of sheer will and spite, he’d be determined to throw his victory in childe’s face. he only agreed after a lot of name calling and teasing, but he’ll be damned if he looses. then again, he’s so extremely clingy in private, he cannot keep his hands off you. and you had needs of your own! he couldn’t just take away that valued part of your relationship for an entire month! you’d intentionally tease and poke at him, begging for him to pay attention to your needs for at least one night. but again, he’s spiteful so he refuses. once december hits (he stays up till 12:00am to watch the date change) he’s on top of you and stripping your clothes off.

“times up, come here.”

XIAO

✧ 3 days. he tried to make it to five, but ultimately failed. it honestly just wasn’t a lucky day. he’d gotten back early from slaying demons, something that doesn’t often happen, and he wanted to spend some time with you. usually when he has off time, you two end up fucking. but with the challenge at hand, he tried not to. he really did, but just couldn’t help himself. everything about you was so inviting; your alluring eyes, your plump lips, your divine body, your seductive voice. it was impossible to ignore you.

“you’re so beautiful, i can’t hold myself back.”

CHILDE

✧ 3 weeks. god it was absolute torture for both of you. after the first week, everything you did got him worked up. it got to the point where he couldn’t touch you without getting hard. he was determined to win though, knowing scaramouche felt the same way. after making such a fuss about his friend being “too scared” and “having no self control” he knew he couldn’t loose. that victory would be so sweet. but alas… his dick just couldn’t take it, and the lack of affection you two were not receiving got to the both of your heads. you ended up having multiple rounds.

“fuck— i can’t do this anymore.”

ITTO

✧ less than a day. when he accepted the challenge, he was so sure he’d win. “easy breezy!” he said, completely confident. that was until… the two of you were finally alone. once you kissed his mouth after stepping inside your shared house, he couldn’t help it. his usual roaming hands were just as shameless as always. when it started to get a bit too heated you pulled back, asking about the challenge. he was confused at first, completely forgetting he had agreed, then just shrugged and continued.

“i won’t tell if you won’t.”

[hoperays-song]

Marcus and Fighting

Ok, I wanna talk about something real quick: where did the fandom belief that Marcus is aggressive come from?

Like he's not? The few scenes where we see him upset are scary, yes, but he never physically lashes out at any character in them. He slams his hands down on a table in the jail disownment scene, which is a common behavioral cue of frustration. And he looks mad... which makes sense because he's in jail! I don't think many other people would be that happy about that situation either. Yet he never hits the glass, threatens his kid physically, or raises his voice more than one time. Did he handle the situation well? No, but I wouldn't call that straight up aggressive.

He was upset and frustrated, so his body language said that. He's in an extremely stressful situation and is having to mentally process a lot. Everything is going to be big emotions for him, but that doesn't make him aggressive for feeling those.

And as for the bank robbing stuff? The nearby police didn't know of the crime until the alarm goes off. Most banks have a hidden button at every desk that deals with customers that alerts police silently of a robbery. The fact that the nearby police were clueless means that button was not pressed and therefore the people in the bank likely didn't see them either. They didn't hurt anyone.

And then, when they were caught by cops later in the movie? They didn't even try to run, let alone fight. Marcus, along with the others, turned himself in without any fuss. Not what you would expect if someone was a violent and aggressive criminal.

And as for in the second movie? Neither Marcus, Stan, or Barry throw the first punch. In fact, they only act defensively. They're trying to keep the guards out of the theatre. That's it. They don't go out of their way to attack Suki or Jerry when they are just standing there because they aren't posing threats to the troupe. And the gang was just defending them, not going out and picking fights.

See? Jerry was fine, despite clearly being a Crystal employee. If Marcus or any of the others had been trying to hurt people, he would have been hurt. But they left him alone.

They even wait to make sure that the guards are going to attack them and only move when they do, going by school rules of "never throw the first punch and make sure you have witnesses to prove you didn't". Technically, since they did that, they could argue self-defense.

And they did also give them the chance to just walk away as well, gently pushing Jimmy away when he tries to get in.

Sure, Marcus enjoys boxing. But that doesn't mean he's an aggressive guy. I did years of martial arts and was pretty good at it but I still flinch when I see people get paper cuts and avoid conflict like the plague. It was just a sport I liked. The same is probably true with Marcus.

Besides, we see Johnny do boxing as well and I don't think anyone could possibly ever call that ball of anxious energy stuffed inside a theatre kid's body aggressive.

Marcus is not actually committing acts of outright aggression in the two moments that he's commonly marked as being aggressive in. Instead he's upset/frustrated and protective. He never actually harms a character without an actual reason to do so, with the only reason we see being his son potentially being hurt. He's not aggressive, he's just a parent with emotions.

[pathetichimbos]

Hi! I’m pretty new in the fandom but I noticed you wanted us to share some headcanons of our dear boy so here’s some of mine!

He likes the colour amber (idk why but I think yellow or green fits him)

He makes little things for his Mama from time to time (or whenever he has the time) such as fashioning a wire bracelet (he makes sure it’s not rusty or anything) with little beads he managed to find around the farm and shyly gift it to Luda Mae

Luda Mae wears them on different days and sometimes keeps them in a box to avoid losing them

Thomas loves rainy days.

Being in an unforgivingly hot climate, he cherishes the cooling sensation whenever the rain comes (also because it’s easier to wash off all the blood on him and/or around the farm)

He does it by either sitting on the ground outside of their house with his head up, eyes closed in bliss or standing up

Luda Mae always calls him inside, telling him he’ll be sick but she also knows how relieving it can be

Hoyt’s an ass but there are times where he praises Tommy for his personal work (if he’s feeling nice) and Tommy always holds on to those moments

Tommy likes crows, for some reason

Doesn’t go near them but will always throw crumbs of bread or more to them and watch as they peck the ground

He might or might not be secretly happy when one comes near him willingly or even perches on him

Sorry if I couldn’t share any Tommy and S/O related headcanons😅 I believe there are so many good ones in the fandom already and you are one of the best at writing for our dear Tommy

As a little thing, here’s a fanart I did a while ago of Tommy https://www.tumblr.com/macabreblublu/731719818030546944/ok-but-ive-got-a-funny-crush-on-this-dude

Hope this brightens up your day/night you lovely person! 💙

Oh your brain is so wrinkly. You have so many big braincelled ideas.

---

♡ Thomas loves warm earth colors, and the colors you picked out are exactly right. Not only do they coincide with nature, but they actually tend to make people feel safer and more secure, and happier as well! And after everything Thomas has been through, I can see him seeking those things in abundance, and so, without even realizing it, he ended up clinging to the colors that brings those out.

♡ Thomas started making little trinkets and jewelry when he was a kid, as he's always had access to various tools and resources to do it, and he's always enjoyed working with his hands. Most of the time he ends up either keeping the trinket himself in a small shoebox he keeps in his closet, but if something turns out really nice, he gives it to Luda Mae who fusses over it and happily adds it to her collection. It goes straight in her jewelry box, which now has a mix of priceless antique jewelry and Thomas' handmade trinkets. She wears them often, with and without her other jewelry, and treats them as if they're just as precious as the few pearls or diamonds she owns.

♡ Rain is always a blessing in small southern communities, it waters their crops, prevents wildfires (though lightning loves to cause those), floods their shallow ponds and creeks, and relieves some of the heat that constantly plagues the towns. So, rain is already precious, and Thomas loves the rain. He's gotten caught in the occasional shower more than once while walking to and from the slaughterhouse, and it always seems to take him twice as long to get home when he does. It provides relief from the heat, and on his skin, the cool rain is soothing on the irritation, as most of the time skin conditions cause painful itching and burning that the cool water helps ease. (I also believe he uses cold wet rags to provide a similar relief)

♡ This is something in particular I'm passionate about. I see so, so, many people make Hoyt out to be abusive to his family, and Thomas in particular, and it's just so wrong. He's an ass, for sure, he'll poke fun at Thomas and has definitely done wrong by him, but he's by no means abusive. Thomas is like a son to him, and vice versa. We can see a clear shift in Thomas' behavior towards the end of The Beginning after Hoyt gives him the positive feedback he craves. At the beginning, he's hesitant, and won't join his own family in the dining room for dinner, (most likely due to self isolation and poor self esteem making him believe he doesn't deserve to join them at the table- the entire town treated him as less than human, and after you live with something like that for so long, you eventually start to believe it). Towards the end of the movie, after Hoyt gives him the positive affirmation on his new 'face', Thomas becomes more confident, not needing to be invited into the dining room by Hoyt, simply feeling more assured that he does belong there.

♡ Crows are so smart. Birds in general are. (Pigeons EXCLUDED- I see your eyes, birds, I know you're not real...). When I was sixteen I had developed a cult of birds at my apartment complex that followed me around and would even land on me and rest on my shoulders until they were ready to leave. All it took was a little food and kind attitude and they trusted me enough to hang around. I can see the same thing happening with Thomas. He loves animals and nature, I mean come on, he lives on a farm, and just because people rejected him doesn't mean that animals did as well. In fact, I can see Thomas taking refuge with the various animals the Hewitt family has. They were practically his only friends, and he has such a calm demeanor about him, I can easily see birds being naturally attracted to him. And crows are probably some of the smartest birds, so I have no doubt he has a cult of birds of his own that hang around the Hewitt residence.

Thanks for sending in the headcanons!! <3

[captainbuzzkill999]

@goosiifer

It's one month later after the final battle with Adam, little bit at a time sinners are coming here like Baxter curiously to see what the fuss is about this whole redemption thing here in hell of all places. He's avoided Lucifer like the plague to prevent the king from learning about their deal with Alastor not a single glance not a single word not even once.

After hours, been a long day and this evening Charlie is throwing a little party to attract more sinners. Instead of joining them, Husk is perched upon the roof of the hotel on top of the H thinking about their life and questioning their choices looking out on pentagram city, just thinking about their life now.

Alastor is free now from being tethered to somebody of course he's happy for them it's the happiest he's seen him since the time which was before he vanished for seven years and when he came back. something was different their smile was not as big anymore but he'd never talk about it. But still, he can't help it he can't help but feel jealous, wishes Alastor would just understand if he were free they'd stay with them because they want to because they love him. Of course he doesn't except anybody to come out here

[saintodo]

thots: catboy gojo

♡ note: he has been plaguing me

♡ word count: 1.5k

♡ warnings: hybrids, bratty sub gojo, gender neutral dom reader, mentions of spanking and punishments, light neglect, hand jobs, kitty as a pet-name, light overstimulation, not proofread oops

catboy gojo is so pretty. his snow-white ears nestled between tufts of his hair are so soft and sensitive. a deep rumble forms in his chest whenever you gently scratch behind them. his tail is real sensitive, too. if you accidentally step on it or tug on it too hard, he gets so pouty. it doesn’t actually hurt him that much, but gojo likes to make a big fuss out of it, so you’ll smother him with kisses as an apology.

he’s so so so spoiled. he's so needy for you. catboy gojo loves your attention and gets so pouty when you don’t give it to him right away or when you don’t give him what he thinks is enough.

he’s such a brat about it. he doesn’t care that you have work to do, he wants your attention now and he’ll act out if you don’t give it him. he’ll go into a different part of the house and start making a complete mess out of it.

he doesn’t do anything that causes any real damage (most of the time), but just enough to inconvenience you. he’ll knock some shit over and drag clothes out of drawers so they’re strewn all across the floor. it’s exasperating dealing with him when he’s behaving like a menace to society.

normally, when you come across the mess gojo’s made, you’ll punish him, which he delights in. you’ll take him over your knee and make him count aloud the number of spankings you’re giving him while you bring down a heavy hand onto his ass. he keens whenever you tug on his sensitive tail between spankings.

but, this time you don’t do anything of the sort. no, you do something that gojo hates. you ignore him.

you’re not dumb, you know that gojo only acts out because he’s a needy little brat who wants your undivided attention. but he needs to learn that sometimes you have work to do, time where you can’t give him all of your attention, and that it’s not okay to throw a fucking fit in response to not getting his way.

gojo hates it when you ignore him so much. he can’t believe that his plan backfired so badly. from room to room inside of your apartment, he trails after you with the prettiest pout on his lips. a whine forms in his throat when you don’t respond to anything he says.

you silently clean up the mess he’s made and move to sit on the couch afterward. gojo slips underneath the curve of your arm to cuddle up to you as closely as he can while you flip the tv switch on. you don’t push him away because even if you’re frustrated with gojo’s behavior, you’d never go that far.

gojo is reaching his wits end. he cannot handle the silent treatment from you and he finally reaches his breaking point when you don’t scratch at the base of his ears like you usually do when you cuddle together.

“ ‘m sorry,” he whines, burying his face into the curve of your neck. his arms loop around your middle as he presses himself as close as he can against your skin. his fluffy ears tickle your jaw. “ ‘m sorry for making a mess, just pay attention to me, already.”

you’re honestly surprised that he caved so quickly, but you really shouldn’t be. if there’s one thing that gojo hates most in the world, it’s being ignored. you think it’d be interesting to tease him some more, but it’s rare that gojo actually says the word sorry, so you lower your hand on top of his head.

“you were being so bad for me, satoru,” you hum. your fingers gently nudge the base of his ears and you can feel the tension in gojo’s lanky frame melt. “i should bend you over my knee right now.”

a shiver goes up gojo’s spine and he shakes slightly in your arms.

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you continue scratching behind his ears, your nails feel good whenever you press them a little harder against that sensitive area. “answer me, satoru.”

he jumps when he feels your hand curl around the base of his tail. you don’t tug on it, but you begin to slowly drag your palm up and down. arousal swirls in gojo’s stomach at the action. he clears his throat a little to reply to you. “maybe. you’d like having me spread over your lap, wouldn’t you?” he says cheekily. 

he yelps when you roughly tug on his tail. not hard enough for it to truly hurt, but enough to teeter the line of pain and pleasure.

“i could leave you here to take care of this,” you rock your hips right against gojo’s clothed erection, “all by yourself, satoru. if that’s how you’re going to act.”

you lift your hands off of gojo, making a move to get off the couch. you’re only pretending, but gojo doesn’t need to know that.

“wait, don’t leave.” he pushes you back down onto the couch, clinging to your frame. you suppress the urge to laugh at the slight panic in his tone. you grunt when gojo shifts his weight and plants himself fully on your lap. automatically, your hands come to rest on his hips, thumbs rubbing circles into his skin.

“hmm, why shouldn’t i?” you nose at his exposed collarbones, your warm breath washes over his skin. “you gonna be a good kitty for me, satoru?”

his cock twitches in his pants at your words. he presses his hips against yours, making sure you can feel just how hard he is for you. “think you can make me one?”

you laugh, soft and gentle, into his skin. the sound leaves goosebumps in its wake. it’s embarrassing how close gojo comes to whimpering when you press a featherlight kiss to his neck. “mm, i think so.”

it’s a little difficult with how close you’re pressed up against each other, but you manage to snake a hand between you and gojo. he moans and instinctively bucks his hips when you begin to palm at his erection. he’s already so hard. it never fails to make you feel good, knowing how much of an affect you have on him.

gojo wants more. he wants you to touch him so much more, but your touches remain light despite how much he rolls his hips into your hand.

“be patient, kitty,” you chide after he rocks his hips again. he whines but you swallow up the sound when you press your lips to his. gojo’s lips are always so soft, courtesy of the glossy lip balm you gifted him that he uses daily. he moans into your mouth when you slip your hand beneath the waistband of his pants and wrap your fingers around his cock.

gojo jolts in your lap when you smear the precum beading at the tip with your thumb and drag your palm up and down the shaft of his dick. you detach your lips from gojo’s and begin to press kisses to the column of his neck. he loudly whines when you harshly nip at the space near the base of his neck. there’s no doubt that gojo’s neck will be covered with blooming bruises by the end of this. he can’t wait. later, he’ll peer into the mirror and stare at his reflection and press his fingers into the purple marks, toeing the line of pain and pleasure, to ensure they’ll last longer.

“go ahead and fuck my fist, kitty,” you say between kisses and nips. gojo doesn’t need any more convincing than that. he plants his palms behind you on the back of the couch to steady himself before grinding his hips into the curve of your hand. your fingers curl around his cock, applying just the right amount of pressure as he moves his hips back and forth.

the couch creaks beneath you, but gojo doesn’t stop rocking against you. he throws his head back and bares his neck for you, making it easier for you to mark him up as yours. that’s all gojo really wants. he wants everybody to know that he belongs to you as much as you belong to him.

gojo cums with a moan when you bite down hard onto his shoulder. his hips move sporadically as spurts of white leak from his cock. he whimpers and hides his face in the curve of your neck when you begin to drag your palm over his length once his hips still, milking all the cum he still has left in his dick.

when it gets to be too much, you stop and release your hold on his dick and move your hand to rub circles into his back. you hold gojo for a while, peppering kisses wherever you can reach on his bare skin, and let him bathe in his post-orgasm bliss.

“you good, kitty?” 

gojo’s only response is nuzzling his face further into your neck and tightening his grip around your middle, much to your amusement. you plop a hand onto his head and pet his ears. the tv still buzzes in the background. 

catboy gojo is a needy, attention-seeking brat, but you really wouldn’t have it any other way.

[tteokdoroki]

an ode to winter | dabi.

♡ pairing: dabi/touya todoroki x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 14.1K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: manga war arc!au, single-parent!au, unplanned pregnancy!au,  angst, fluff, smut.

♡ summary: touya todoroki had broken a lot of things, your heart, promises, your window a few times, but you swore he'd never leave your child feeling that way. but when he wants back into your life, will he take no for an answer? And do you even want to say it?

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, ( literally 5k of it ), MANGA SPOILERS IN THE EXTENDED ENDING,  mentions of pregnancy, mentions of semi-toxic!relationships, struggling with parenting, blackmail ??,   unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it, losers ), handjobs, oral sex ( female receiving ), fingering ( female receiving ),  choking, branding, squirting, spit!kink, needy touya lol <3

♡ author’s note(s): OK so this started out as a fic for my bestie @ozzy-bozzy​ but then turned into this long ass vent fic bc i do be struggling!! i’ve barely written for touya so apologies if his character is off. special thanks to @bakugous-trauma for beta reading n @doinmybesthere for the summary and beta reading and thanks for 4.7K MWAH <3

♡ masterlist | requests

the snow had fallen heavy that day, its flakes dancing along the window panes while you’d brought her into the world. you hated the cold, the way it nipped at your nose and stung at your cheeks, how it could freeze over a heart so badly that it would take years to thaw it out. you’d complained about the ice sheets that frosted your windows to the doctors, the ones on the roads too, but they’d simply wrote it off as your anxieties related to bringing kori home for the first time in such weather.

funnily enough, your daughter much resembled the cold in many ways. you’d named her ‘kori’; meaning ice, since her hair was white as the crisp blanket of winter outside and her eyes a piercing shade of aqua marine, that for a while, had no meaning written behind them except for a cool curiosity that you knew didn’t come from your side of the family. she wasn’t warm either, the first time you held her, her flesh against yours was almost a painful spark of frostbite— you expected that it was related to the lineage she came from too.

you thought that you’d resent kori when she was born; for the struggles that her new life had brought to you. you’d given birth alone and afraid, having lost friends and contact with your family due to keeping your pregnancy a secret. if they had known who caused you to end up in this situation in the first place, you were sure you’d have lost them all anyways. you hadn’t a chance to attend maternity classes due to the hours you worked in order to ensure yourself and your child’s financial security. although, prior to her arrival, dabi had told you that if you chose to give your daughter the todoroki name; you both would be looked after when the right time came.

and like a fool in love, you’d believed him, avoiding the apologetic gazes of the doctors and midwives who’d delivered your baby as you filled out her paperwork and birth certificate. one nurse even asked you if you wanted to contact endeavour for support, and you couldn’t blame her— the rumours of your child potentially being that of natsuo todoroki’s had spread fast through the hospital and it was a given, figuring his bad boy college reputation. natsuo and his ventures into the college life were no stranger to the media, so it didn’t surprise you nor the doctors to believe that this wasn’t the first time a girl had given birth alone to a todoroki child. you suspected that if there were any, enji todoroki would have paid them off.

so you let them believe what ever false truth that might have plagued the hospital walls about yourself and your daughter— not having the heart to tell them that you’d probably receive a much larger sum of money to keep hush about the child that you mothered and the child who’s father belonged to endeavour’s deceased, eldest son.

so you realised, thumb held by the chubby hand of your sweet infant girl; that you couldn’t hate her for the mistakes you’d made and the mess you’d become tangled up in— you could only promise to do your best in raising her despite the odds and difficult circumstances, you could give her the life and childhood that her father never had but most certainly deserved.

“miss yn...”

your midwife; himari enters the room, calling for you— tearing your gaze away from the hypnotising sea-foam eyes belonging to your daughter, the way she looked at you only reminding you of dabi. you’d told him once that his eyes always took you to the mediterranean sea, to which he’d laughed and mentioned you’d never seen it before. when the pair of you realised that this was true, the boy with the black hair and intoxicating stare made an oath to you, that he would take you there someday so you could bask in the warm sun and dip your toes into the clear oceans. you only hoped that this oath still remained true.

“miss yn...” himari tries again, this time stepping further into your hospital room. your thoughts had carried you so far away that you hadn’t realised how close she’d gotten as she lingered by your cot. her hands lay flat against her pale blue uniform, nails you note—neatly trimmed— and a smile that would have made you feel comfortable had you not known she’d volunteered to care for you because she too believed she’d be paid off by endeavour. you almost felt bad that she thought the silly lie was true and that she had a shot at a big time bonus but it was funny to think that no one would believe her when she eventually took to the news to claim that she cared for the next heir of the todoroki empire. “it’s says here, that kori is scheduled for feeding— i was wondering if you wanted to continue breast feeding or try pumping a bottle or two today?”

chewing on the inside of your cheek, you hum with hesitance. feeding kori was something you’d never discussed with dabi, some of the nurses had assured you that it was possible for you to do both— so that you could grow closer to your daughter and form a tight bond whilst also giving the opportunity to others to feed her when need be. there weren’t many others, but you figured that dabi might want to give bottle feeding a whirl when he finally returned from the league business. the business that had made him miss his little girl’s birth.

kori gargles from hunger in your arms, drawing your attention back to her tiny form. a stray strand of hair curls against her forehead from underneath her blankets and swaddling— the end you notice has a slight tint of red to it. the icy shell around your heart thaws. glancing back up to himari; you grin with a decision in mind. “i’d like to try breast feeding again, we can use the pump tomorrow.” you say, voice quiet.

“do you need any help getting her to latch?” your midwife asks, aiding you into a comfortable position to feed kori.

“no,” you smile after getting settled, pushing down your gown to expose your breast to your little girl. “i’ve got her, i can take care of her.”

you say the words more so to yourself than to himari, a hidden reassurance that you’re more than capable of raising your daughter on your own.

for now at least.

that winter, dabi never came home.

the snow melts, the flowers bloom and the seasons change. your daughter grows with the swift transition of the weathers too, her hair is a little longer now but the small curl of red against her forehead remains hidden and the same. her eyes open wider, still that deep shade of ocean blue, she can sit up on her own, throws toys out of her crib  and her favourite movies are bambi and bambi two. they’re the only things that she watches, which you hate, because they remind you of her. an innocent child who loses one parent and is left in the care of the emotionally closed off other.

you hadn’t realised how much you would need dabi, but still he is nowhere to be seen.

raising kori on your own proves a challenge, especially now that she’s a little bigger— it was easy after she was born; she was quiet and only made a fuss when she was hungry or needed to be changed. went down easy too, that was until her wails reared their ugly head as soon as the colder parts of winter hit. no matter what you did, the girl would cry for hours on end until her face would hurt from how scrunched it was and her fingers would turn red from the grip she had on your hands.

since her birth, you and kori had to move three times due to the noise complaints about her consistent crying throughout the day, evening and night. by the time february rolled around, you’d ended up in an apartment not so far from dabi’s old neighbourhood— it was a shitty area with high crime rates and an eerie feel to it that made you clutch your purse tighter when you walked home from the late night shifts— you had never had any intentions to raise kori in a dump like this, you wanted a better life for her than what dabi had, but your shabby two bedroom apartment in the dark side of town would be enough for now.

the rent was cheap since your current boss at the local grocers market was close friends with the building manager, but your boss was also a sleaze who thought offering you an extra 10% off of your weekly shop and an expired coupon for the coffee joint down the street would be enough to get into your pants. he was just another thing on your list that you hated about the world, about the current life you lead but you needed to keep him close to keep your rent low and a roof over your head.

besides, it had been a few days since you last saw him at work— the asshole was probably taking a few days to himself while you and your colleagues practically ran the store.

you can’t leave kori with a sitter; they never worked with her. your daughter was far too temperamental for the average person and would spend one night with her before taking their pay and quitting. the only person able to handle your beloved little girl was the old lady who lived two floors above yours, mrs. yamamoto. she was a sweet woman, widowed by fifteen years and had taken a liking to kori that one time you’d helped with her groceries when she couldn’t make it out in the february winter after your little girl was born.

it seemed kori liked mrs yamamoto as well, she was only ever quiet in the woman’s presence and you put it down to how high she had the heat up in her apartment. one time, it was up so high the power in the building went out for an entire night— which was hell for you since kori wouldn’t stop bawling. however; you appreciated the help, you’re sure that without the help of the elder woman you would have been far under the surface— drowning in regret.

but sometimes, it’s easy for the darker emotions to slip through the cracks— take a choke hold over your sanity. there would be nights where guilt would consume you and tears would flow heavily down your cheeks while your daughter slept. it was hard being alone, no one to confide in about the troubles of parenting or to reassure you that you were doing a good job at taking care of your child.

it didn’t help that winter was coming up again, kori’s first birthday fast approaching. the sudden milestone only made you wish that dabi was around more — it hurt you to know that there was possibility he’d run out on you and his responsibilities as a father but part of you believed that your lover was better. the eldest todoroki son appeared way too excited throughout your pregnancy to leave you with nothing.

despite not being able to make it to appointments due to his criminal nature, dabi had somehow manged to find the money to get you a 4D ultra sound of your baby, telling you a few odd jobs here and there allowed him to scrape the cash together. you never asked what it was that he did, afraid of what you might find in the eyes of the man that you loved so much.

why did you allow yourself to love a man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day if he hadn’t broken into your home? his seafoam eyes a glowing shade as he threatened your life through shards of broken glass and then wails of cop sirens outside. were you just as broken as he? had you not realised it yet? you could blame this whole mess on the fact that he kept coming back, but you always let him back in. dabi was a broken man who only knew blood and grit and grime and you were the girl with a chance to lead a normal life— yet you poured all of your heart and all of your soul into loving him because you were so sure that you could fix him.

and every single time you’d convinced him, convinced yourself that what you had could be normal and domestic— dabi would slip between your sheets, pinning you to your bed with your name heavy on your lips and the emotion of love painted into the turquoise flecks in his eyes. they burned with passion while his heated cock sunk between your plush thighs and welcomed him into your warmth. the moans you’d share while your skin slapped together, creating a bubble of safety where you were the only two people on the world.

dabi made promises against your swollen lips as his fingers swirled hidden messages of desire into your slick, puffy clit. he couldn’t give you the ring, the wedding or the house with the white picket fence and dog barking at the post man in the front yard— but he could give you every part of him from the good to the bad, the beautiful to the ugly and he would seal that promise with a throaty groan of ‘you are mine and i am yours...’ into your ear as you came together.

but it seemed that like all things, dabi’s promises were broken like shattered glass— never meant to be kept or eternalised. the shards cut your delicate fingers, the pain numbed as you were left to pick up the pieces and be strong for the small life you were now responsible for.

you were careful to not let the door fly in and hit the wall opposite as you unlocked it, stumbling into your two bedroom with kori’s chubby legs locked around your hips and bag full of groceries in your other hand. “look princess,” you coo down at your daughter sweetly, watching as she drools all over your staff lanyard from work. “we’re home!” bending down, you dropped the produce off by the door before heading off to your living room area, propping kori in front of her toy mat.

smiling down at her, you brush the pure white hair that curls over her cobalt eyes and kiss her freckled cheeks— heart swooning at the way kori giggles in your arms. she’d been on her best behaviour the entire week, keeping out of trouble with the staff at her daycare and mrs yamamoto in the place upstairs, so it was only right that you treat her.

“you hungry babygirl? want mommy to make your favourite, hm?” kori is barely old enough to talk aside from a few babbles and repeats of mama but that doesn’t stop you from asking.

“mmmamamamaa!!”

you press another kiss to her baby fat cheeks before heading to the kitchen to prepare her favourite dinner— spaghetti. ever since kori started eating her solids, she hadn’t been a picky eater and you noticed that her appetite much resembled dabi’s, who couldn’t afford to be fussy about any of the meals you’d made for him before he disappeared.

making the sauce is easy, a dish you’d prepared from when you were a child and used to cook with your parents— you retrieve the ingredients from the groceries and pull out the stuff you’ll need to cook them. you mince the vegetables easily like you’d been taught as your mind gets away from you.

you wish that dabi was here to enjoy the domesticity of your current life— maybe him being around would lift the dark cloud over your life. sometimes it hurt to know that he would be missing out on moments like this and you could imagine him sitting by the couch while kori played with her toys and you cooked for them both. in this world, he’d laugh at her fascination with colder toys and magnets— make a joke about how much your little girl resembles him and kiss your cheek when you served them both up their favourite meals.

tears pool in your eyes at the thought of your wish never being granted and that’s all it takes for you to slip and cut your finger while chopping up the garlic. “fuck!” you boss, dropping the knife and squeezing your hand around the wounded digit. you know that the clattering of the knife has scared kori, and from the way she looks at you, you can already tell that she’s seen you injure yourself. “god, fuck...that hurt.”

there’s a pause in time, while you rinse your cut under the tap, cold water soothing the sting before kori starts to wail like her life depends on it. in a rush, you grab a tea towel in hopes that it’ll stop the bleeding and head straight for your baby, hoping that you’ll be able to soothe her. by the time you reach kori, her eyes are red with tears and snot dribbles from her nose down to her chin while she babbles loosely all the new words she’s learned— in a whiny tone.  

“baby, don’t cry mommy’s got you,” you murmur to her, reaching out to the little girl with open arms. your heart breaks at the way her bottom lip wobbles in a watery pout. kori crawls into your arms, white mop of soft baby hair buried into the junction between your shoulder and your neck— her tiny body shakes with awful heaves and cries while her tears dampen the old hoodie of her father’s that you wear, effectively ruining the fabric. “come on honey, it’s okay! momma didn’t mean to scare you...”

she snivels in your arms, quiet for only a second while you walk around the apartment bouncing her. walking kori up and down seems to soothe her for the most part, a trick that worked when she was first born and had her horrible crying fits. “good girl, mama’s got you...” you continue to soothe her, brushing a finger under her white lashes to remove her tears. all is well for a second and it seems her tantrum has calmed, until she grabs onto your wounded finger and makes you curse in pain again.

“shit!”

“m-momma-!” kori whimpers, face creasing in pain as her cheeks start to heat up again. you fear that if you don’t do something soon she’ll bust a lung from crying.

you shake your head in an attempt to calm her down, baby sobs striking right through your body and resume bouncing her, hoping that it’ll work. “shhh kori, honey, it’s okay— mommy’s okay and so are you...” in the process of comforting her, you somehow trip over the discarded knife, sending it flying into the cabinets across from the island and making another loud noise that further spooks kori.

at this she screams bloody murder, the sound of her little chest heaving giving you a splitting headache. you were tired, tired of your daughter’s crying , working long hours with no help and raising a child all on your own. you were tired of the pain spreading through your head and your body and your heart. you needed an out or break at the very least.

you should feel guilty for what you’re about to do, heading for the nursery with a heaving baby in your grip. you can’t think of anything better to do than put kori down for a nap and hope that her crying tires her out— you do your best to pry the little girl from clinging onto your clothes and tuck her into her crib as she sniffles, quickly backing out of her room before she can call for you and make you feel even worse than you already do.

you close the door quietly behind you, somewhat sliding down it while your own sobs take over your body— shaking you violently as you hug your knees to your chest. you don’t know how long you sit there, biting your lips and holding onto in your whimpers while tears stream down the apples of your cheeks, but eventually

you find yourself drifting off with dreams of your happy family.

you jump awake a few hours later, surrounded by a thick darkness from the sky outside. the hum of the city streets helps to bring you back down to earth as you rub the sleep from your puffy eyes and blink away the exhaustion. you don’t quite remember when you’d fallen into a slumber but you figure that kori must have eventually, judging by the quietness that surrounds your apartment.

the blanket of the night allows your guilt to burn brightly in your chest— you shouldn’t have left her alone. scrambling to your feet, you stumble over to the kitchen counter and grab your phone to read the time. 11:06pm. it’s just about time that you check on your daughter, but with two steps of heading to the nursery and you’re met with foreign sound that doesn’t quite fit in with the usual creaks and squeaks of your apparent.

happy gurgles belonging to your baby creep out from underneath her bedroom door, low humming or singing to accompany her sweet sound. humming that you don’t recognise. with a pang of fear to your heart, you reach for the knife on your kitchen floor as a weapon of defence— this would go down nicely with the police. a single mother on self defence...yeah, that could work out.

the knife shakes in your hand as you approach kori’s nursery, barely steady even when you push open the door.

“...touya?”

nothing could prepare you for what you’d see after walking into that room but when your eyes fall witness to your love standing in the centre of the room with a little tuft of white hair cradled to his bare chest. the air around you tingles with warmth as if dabi has heated the place up with his quirk and your little girl curls into him as if she’s known him all her life. but she hadn’t, he hadn’t.

all at once, your heart heals just as it breaks— it’s been so long since you’ve seen the villain that you can’t help but notice all the changes in him, the way his eyes droop a little more with exhaustion and his hair dusted with a the slightest bit of white. he was noticeably thinner too, maybe from being away from a warm bed and good food for too long...so a half of you was relieved that he was home, the other— hurt and betrayed.

“hey beautiful,” dabi’s timbre voice fills your entire being, stimulating your senses into a dull tingle. his lips a drawn into soft smirk as he rocks kori back and forth, your  baby’s eyes flutter with the gentle indication of sleep. “how’ya been?”

if you weren’t frozen in shock, you would have given the villain a piece of your mind. how dare he...after all this time apart from you, from his daughter...ask how you were doing? your eyes flutter to the open window behind the oldest todoroki son, as if you need to look away from him to convince yourself he’s real and he won’t disappear when you look back.

proven right by meeting the cool, chartreuse sea of his eyes— your throat runs dry as all you’d ever dreamed of saying in this moment, flees from your mind. “what are you doing here?” you say, trying to sound firm even though your voice falls through.

touya stays quiet, twirling a long finger through the small curls on his—your daughter’s head. “i was in the neighbourhood.” he mumbles, gaze tearing away from you to focus on the content infant he has in his arms.

you should feel angry, you should be screaming and kicking at dabi— forcing him out of your home with your child safe in your own arms but your body doesn’t will you to. hurt seeps through your veins at the casual aura in his tone. of course dabi would treat the situation as if it never existed and that he’d been with you the whole time. the pain of seeing him with her as if he’d been in kori’s life from the very start wraps around your heart in a poisonous grip and squeezes hard until you’re choking back a sob, letting it sit in the base of your throat.

you refuse to break in front of him.

“you need to go. you need to put her down and you need to leave.” you attempt to assert yourself in a harsh bark, almost making dabi jump. he’d never seen you like this before, but then again he hadn’t seen you in a year. he could only imagine what motherhood had done to you, especially facing it on your own. touya hesitates, kori shifting in his soft grip— one he didn’t even know that he had as a villain but you steady yourself and repeat your words. “touya, i said you need to leave.”

“why? so you can fall asleep and leave her crying on her own again?” the villain spits out, harsher than he intended. he watches your face fall and your body curl in on itself and he feels bad. dabi had promised you a lot of things since realising he loved you, and not hurting you like his father hurt his mother was one that he’d just broken. relenting, the dark haired villain eases kori from his pec and tucks her into her crib.

there’s a beat of silence and then. “i’m sorry.”

“you should be.”

“yn,” he sighs, running a hand through the light roots of his hair as he leans over his child’s crib. the young father tilts his head, scanning kori’s face while he identifies every characteristic she has from the family he’d done his best to free himself of.   “i’m sorry, it’s just— just that she was cold and crying, so i took off my shirt and held her and she warmed up and—“ dabi pauses his quiet rambling, finally looking up from the slumbering baby tucked away into powder blue silk and locks eyes with you. “and she probably has my mom’s shitty quirk. and i can’t get over how much she looks like them, how big she’s gotten.”

touya finds his shirt after admitting that, throwing on the thin white material before closing the window he came through. he moves with the swiftness that comes with his job, and it’s almost peaceful to watch. you stay plastered by the door, torn between falling right into the palm of his hand and demanding the answers that you and your daughter deserve.

it makes you feel a little sick when he gazes down at kori with pride, it makes you queasy at how easy she was to handle to him. touya todoroki doesn’t know half of what it was to raise his child...but did that make you a bad mother? was there something he shared with kori that you didn’t? dabi hadn’t known what it was to love someone other than himself until he’d met you, but you’d spent your entire life around family and friends who took care of you and made you feel cherished every day. you had all of that before you had dabi, and you’d given it all up for him.

shouldn’t you be the one to easily put your daughter down for a nap? to soothe her tears? and for him to come so briskly into your lives and take care of it all when he doesn’t even know what you’d been through, hurts most of all.

“you don’t even know her,” you start, tremble to your bottom lip as the sob in your throat builds up and threatens to burst. “you never saw her after she was born, never cut the cord, never knew her weight. you don’t know how tiny she was when she came into the world, you don’t know because you didn’t come!” with each word, stray tears manage to escape from your tired eyes, but you’re too fixated on dabi to bother to wipe them. it hurts to cry, it stings even as they stream down the apples of youth cheeks but you don’t move.

“yn, sweetness, i—“

“i know how much she weighed when she was born, four pounds and thirteen ounces. she was so tiny i was scared that she would break—“ you’re gasping now, almost choking yourself out on the pain that burns brightly in your lungs and claws its way up your throat. “i know her favourite foods, what fabrics irritate her skin, her favourite stuffed toys, how she likes to be swaddled in her blankets at night or that her curls make her face itch but they’re practically untameable.”

you start to heave, losing breath with every word and dabi does nothing but watch, keeping an eye on kori to make sure she stays sleeping as he steps towards you. “i know that i love her more than i’ve loved anything in my entire life, despite how much i suffered alone bringing her into this world. and i know that i named her kori after the ice that frosted the windows of my hospital room while i waited for... you.”

touya remains emotionless while you descend into madness, letting you cry it out. “i’ve been watching...”

you want to scream, beat his chest and blame him for how insane you’ve become. “watching isn’t enough touya, she needed you. i-i needed you.” you whimper, falling limp against the door frame as your hands move threateningly towards your hair as if you’re going to rip it out from the root. “...you couldn’t come and visit? not once i-in the eleven months that she’s been alive? not once while she’s been breaking me down and giving—“

“giving you a hard time? i tried, i took care of you from afar...i’m the one who made your boss disappear. the one who put his hands on you.” dabi sneers towards the end of his once gentle words, standing a breaths width away from you. you hate that you crave the same touch from him as he gave to kori, but you’re still so mad at him.

eventually, it all becomes too much and you succumb to the tears that wrack your exhausted body. you sway with each choked wail that tumbles from between your chapped lips and dabi surges forward to catch you after kicking the knife from earlier away, letting you sink into the warmth of his embrace. he feels like home, smells like safety and not a word is uttered as he brings you to the floor and cradles you like he did with his daughter.

dabi doesn’t need to say sorry when he shows you through how close he holds you to his heart.

when you finally calm down, dabi lifts you bridal style to your bathroom and draws you a bath with the salts and lavender extract from the cupboard above the sink. neither of you speak except for when he softly offers to help you undress— to which you decline— and when he tells you he’s going to fix something to eat.

you knew damn well that the villain could not cook, he hadn’t been when he was little since endeavour took away the entirety of his childhood and you’d only taught him the basics when he was still on the run and stopped by your place from time to time. his favourite thing back then had been to watch you cook to the weird music you kept playing, hips swaying to the beat and a sparkle in your eyes— but you didn’t do that anymore, he could tell those days were long gone.

dabi orders in takeout in the end and you have half a mind to curse him out for using your money— but the day’s events have exhausted you beyond your wits end, so you eat with him in silence atop your double bed after dressing in an old shirt of his. “stay the night.” is what you tell him, scared that he’ll leave. he puts his cigarette out on your balcony. the doors usually stayed locked so kori couldn’t crawl out on her own but you opened it for him since dabi liked to smoke and you hated the ash.

he promised to quit back then, and he hadn’t now.

“i’ll stay.” dabi says, throwing the butt over the ledge and stripping his clothes as he follows you to bed. he decides not to mention he wanted to stay anyway. you peel back the covers enough for him to slip in behind you, heated arms wrapping around your waist and settling on your tummy, where he rubs small patterns into your skin. the villain’s chest is  overwhelmingly warm against your back— reminding you of the days where you would spoon and he’d wait with baited breath for kori to kick.

both of you lay together, wide awake in the dark for goodness knows how long. touya’s breath balmy against the nape of your neck and if you focused hard enough, you could feel his eyelashes fluttering against your skin. he pretends to sleep, refusing to acknowledge that his proximity to you affects him in the worst of ways— evident in how his prominent hard on presses against the swell of your ass.

rolling over, your heart skips a beat at the way your love’s eyes still manage to glow brightly in the dark— ignited by the flames of his quirk and emotions of angst from the past.

they flicker as he looks to you, pale skin illuminated by the silver moon slipping in from your balconies, scars as enticing as ever. tentatively, you reach a hand out to cup his face, not kidding the apprehension that paint his matured features even as you run your fingers down the scars on his jaw. “been a while since we’ve been like this,” is all you can muster up, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek while your free hand snakes between your bodies in an attempt to pleasure the man.

fear strikes you right in the chest, leaving you panting as dabi flips you onto your back quickly, pinning your wrists against the bed. “don’t,” he growls, almost feral in tone and in his eyes. “don’t do something you might regret in the morning.”

you lay still, staring at the man above you in an attempt to read him. doing so had always been hard, but tonight you can see every detail of his life and every part of him.  the fear of being his father and disappointing another group of people, a broken man torn between the people he loved and the life he led— you could finally see him. you wondered if it hurt him to be away from you and his child, if he ever thought of you.

you take a deep breath, fabric of the sheets fuzzy in your ears as you shake your head up at him. “i could never regret being with you,” you sigh, dabi’s gaze lowering. “i just need you...”

your proclamation is all the permission dabi needs before he ascends on your neck, almost whimpering at the taste of your skin against his tongue. you know that he’s avoiding your lips, scared that things may not feel the same if he kisses you there— as if your love might have fizzled out from the months that you’ve been apart. the villain’s mouth is hot against your skin, sharp teeth sinking into the column of your throat— it’s not hard for him to find the spots that make your back arch and body tingle, the dark haired man  would be embarrassed to admit that he had your body mapped out in his brain. you were all that he thought about in the months between then and now.

you miss his lips, but you fear that if you push your love to far he’ll clam up and withdraw from you completely. you can’t lose him while you have him now. in the meantime, your bodies press against one another hotly, burning while dabi paints shades of blue and purple deeper than his eyes against your flesh before lapping at each love bite with an odd tenderness people wouldn’t think he possessed at first glance. as he works, touya loses grip on your wrists, allowing them free roam across the expanse of his back.

your nails leave light tracks across his back, trailing up from his muscled back to the nape of his neck— curling in the white roots of his hair in an attempt to tug him up to your lips. “baby,” the old pet name tumbles from between them before you can catch yourself, laboured from where you’re short of breath. “please kiss me, please..”

with newly mussed hair, dabi is still for a moment before leaving one last mark at where your jaw meets your neck— wet tongue lolling over the fresh bruise while his large palm move back to cup your head. a thumb belonging to a scared hand runs over your bottom lip, pulling the plump flesh down while he watches your face for a reaction. “are you sure that’s what you want, beautiful?” the villain chuckles into the dark of the night, pink muscle running over his own lips to wet them in anticipation. “you want your man to kiss you?”

your senses go into overdrive, desperate for any kind of contact from the man above you— he feels so close and yet, a million miles away, even with his body making its way between your thighs and your chests pressing together eagerly.

“touya—“ you breathe, barely able to finish your sentence before the man himself delves deep into your mouth. his lips move with hesitance at first, sucking on yours slightly and parting for air more often than he should but you grip him by the whites of his hair firmly and tug him further into the kiss. your tongue dances along the seam of his lips, prying them open as you seek permission for entrance— dabi groans lowly as you tug on his roots and force your way into his mouth, tasting him as if it were your last time.

you swallow each of his moans that mingle softly with your own, while your tongues dance together messily— the kiss were and sloppy as if the two of you were out of practice. your worries fly out of the window from there, it’s good to know that neither of you had been with others during your time apart instead you feel like a teenager making out with their highschool crush for the very first time. dabi’s hips rut into the plush bed beneath you both and you can tell that even the slightest touches are riling him up beyond belief— it’d been almost a year since he’d felt you against him in any way and it didn’t help that you were so ready to accept him.

that you still wanted him.

whimpering at the thought, the villain pauses against your lips to catch his breath— panting softly. you can feel him pulling away, questioning if he deserves to be with you after everything he’d put you through. so, cupping dabi’s jaw, you let your free hand slip between your heated bodies and glide your fingertips along the waist band of his sweats.

“yn, i ain’t so sure about this,” dabi sighs, body twitching at the proximity of your hands to his hardness, his eyelids flutter shut and lock away his beautiful blue eyes— holding fear, insecurity and desire. “what if ya’still regret this later on?”

smiling up at him, you thumb at his cheek and work your hand deeper into his pants, past his underwear. “you’ve been away too long baby, i would regret not being with you more,” you coo up at him just as you grasp at his hardened length, watching as dabi shudders in your grip. his cock leaks hotly against your soft palm from going untouched for so long, your fingers explore him— tracing down the thick veins on the underside of his length. “let me make you feel good tonight.”

“fuck, sweetness. talk pretty with that filthy fuckin’ mouth of yours.” touya breathes heavily against your mouth, both of yours falling open in hot moans. cheekily, you run a thumb over his tip, circling the slit at the top. dabi collapses on top of you, burying his mop of salt and pepper hair into your neck as he drives his hips into your hand at his own leisurely pace. “y’better live up to those words—shit, don’t go letting me down, princess.” jade orbs finally open, heavy with lust and desire as the air around you tingles with a newfound desire to make each other feel good, settling on the planes of your marked and scratched skin.

your grip around dabi tightens while he fucks into your closed fist, wet sounds filling the room from where he leaks at his bright red tip— almost hot as his hands that dance up your sides and tenderly touch at your hips. so unsure, yet so needy. clear, thick precum guides the movement of your hand as it slides up and down your lover’s girth— he’s much bigger than you remember, swollen with an impending orgasm and dabi stutters when you reach further down his boxers to grip at weighty balls full of his seed, just about ready to burst.

he howls from deep within his chest, the noise only muffled from the drool that glides across his tongue before the villain’s wandering and scarred palms stop at your rib cage, settling just under your breasts. you don’t bother to stop pleasuring him even as his quirk ignites, blue flames burning right through your night shirt to expose your skin to the cool night air.  without even a second thought, dabi’s mouth ascends on your tits, taking one into the hot cavern while his free hand seers marks over the other.

the thought have being branded by your man makes your hips jump and your hand squeeze his cock in your grip— a reminder of what’s to come later on. his strawberry tongue rolls across your hardened nipple and you yelp in surprise with the sudden feeling of cool metal across the exposed flesh. “y-you have your tongue pierced?” you squeal as dabi repeats his actions, loving the way you arch your back into his mouth and your heart rate speeds up.

“never know when a bit of metal’s gonna come in handy, sugar tits.”

you barely have time to formulate a response before your boyfriend’s mouth is back on you, biting and sucking and marking your raw flesh like a man starved of his last meal— you don’t let up either, quickly pumping his cock as he continues to leak, painting your hand with teases of his incoming release. you’re sure that his sweatpants and the sheets below you will be stained with his arousal from how much precum oozes from his dick, slicking up your hands and creating the perfect flashlight but you don’t dare to think of anything else but the way dabi’s face twists with pleasure as he desperately thrusts himself into the softness of your palm.

his cheeks flush red, globs of drool connecting the roof of his mouth to his tongue while his eyes grow fuzzy at each step he takes closer to orgasm, the very drool from his mouth covers each of your breasts as dabi switches between them— creating a layer of wet against your supple skin that shines under the moon. you flick your wrist around him, faster, harder— giving the villain everything you’ve got to make him feel good.

“shit pretty girl, y’gonna make me...cum,” touya shakes in your grip, eyes crossing and tongue becoming lazy against your marked up chest. his salvia pools against your skin while he pants and fucks your wet hand as if it were your pretty little cunt clamping down on him. “fuck, fuck, fuck. don’t you fuckin’ stop, don’t you dare fuckin’ stop...”

he barks out the demands, but there’s a neediness to his tone and whine to his voice that makes you grin with pride, even if you’re barely there from having your nipples stimulated beyond belief. “cum for me touya, please, wanna feel you come undone for me.” you beg him, ever so slightly and it’s just enough to push the villain over the edge, sending him into an earth shattering orgasm. you don’t dare to stop as you jerk him off, guiding down from his high as his cock twitches from release and paints your knuckles with the thick white of his seed. he mewls contendly into your breasts, slowing his hips while the world of colours dance behind his cerulean eyes.

“here with me yet?” you murmur to him, grasping his wild locks to tilt his head up towards your face— dabi looks so blissed out but the smirk on his raw and bitten lips tells you the night is far from over.

pressing a searing kiss to your sternum, your boyfriend’s pierced tongue makes yet another appearance as he trails the muscle down your soft tummy— biting your navel as he goes. “never left gorgeous, but don’t you fucking dare think for a second that this is over, y’got that?” he sits up quickly, grabbing hold of your doughy thighs and using them to pull you down the bed. the pads of his fingers start to burn marks into your skin, dancing along your legs and stopping just above the waistband of your underwear. “gotta stretch this cunt open before i give you my cock, remind you of who the fuck you belong to.”

spreading your thighs nice and wide, you release a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding as dabi’s hands finally come into contact with your slit, prodding at your slick folds from over your panties. lowering his face between your open legs, your boyfriend hums in satisfaction as he peels your sticky panties away from your pussy. “why, babydoll, you’re so fucking wet down here. this can’t all be for me, can it?” touya teases you, hot breath fanning against your unused sex while his fingers play with the string of your slick that coats them. “y’must’ve missed your man badly for your lil cunt to look this fucked up, s’pecially when i haven’t even touched’ya yet.”

you shiver and nod weakly, willing to say or do anything to feel more of your boyfriend against you. “s’all for you dabi, o-only you could get me this wet, n-no one else could take your place...” you mewl, hips bucking into the air while the man himself watches you grow needier and needier, hormones expelled into the air. dabi grins, leaning into your core once more to press his nose into your wetness, sniffing your spiked panties like the dirty man he is— only to then lay his pierced tongue flat against your folds, tracing your hole with the muscle while his nose bumps at your clothed clit.

“saved this all for me, huh? you’re so loyal, sweetness. waiting for me all this time…” he kitten licks at your cunt until you’re writhing amongst the already solid sheets, forcing his spit into your hole from over the thin fabric of your panties, creating a more prominent outline of your puffy lower lips as your thighs quieter around his head. they threaten to close as he works on you through your underwear— teasing and prodding at your sex to see if you respond the same way to his touches as you used to.

you force your shaking through his black and white locks, grabbing hold of his roots in an attempt to pull dabi back to your heat when he lifts his head from between your thighs— pushing your lips into a pout. “no, no no, baby, please— need you to eat my cunt, want your mouth on me, please!” you cry out, but you’re quickly pacified by his scarred hand which cups your pussy— seat of his hand grinding into your clit.

“god, if i had known you were still this eager to fuck me i woulda come home a long time ago, babydoll.” he chuckles, licking up your inner thigh and biting down on the plush flesh. “need’ta get rid of these though, they’re getting in my way.” the villain gestures to your panties, making you watch as his quirk burns it’s way through the silky material until it’s nothing but ash against your sheets. you gasp as soon as your cute little pussy is exposed to the cool air, missing the warmth of touya’s pink tongue against it. “better.” he sneers, eyes bright and glowing in the dark with a new sense of feral desire.

thick digits press into your tight hole at the same time touya takes to sucking on your swollen clit, forcing their way up your velvet walls in search for your pleasure spot. dabi chuckles against your sticky folds as you begin to whine, hips rolling up into your lover’s face while his tongue draws rough patterns onto your bud. you’ve missed him, missed this. the nights where the villain dabi would sneak into your home, becoming your touya todoroki between the four walls that you shared— where you would spend nights seeing stars by his hand or his cock and he would make you his over and over again. the memories have you clamping down on his digits like there’s no tomorrow, greedily sucking them in as he strokes at the walls of your sex and makes your whole body shake.

touya works hard at pleasuring you, apologising for his absence through slurping the juices from your folds only for you to gush and paint his scarred chin with more of your nectar. the way you taste makes him dizzy, he could spend the rest of his life between your thighs and never miss the outside world like he did before tonight. he wants to be good for you, make you feel good too and it’s not enough to feel the ecstasy roll off of your heavenly body in waves— he wants all of you, mind, body and soul to belong to him.

you can barely breathe, leaking with every swipe of his tongue against you and every twist of his fingers inside of you. you can feel everything at once, the euphoria crackling across your brain, high on the way touya makes you feel. “god, t-touya, don’ stop...feel so fucking good…” you heave in a drawn out moan, barely able to tell what’s up and what’s down as the villain pulls his fingers from your slick hole and replaces them with his tongue ( only after they’ve pushed down on your g-spot over and over again ).

“you’re not the one giving orders, sweet stuff, oh no.” dabi reminds you sloppily, looking like a child with no table manners as your nectar smears across his face. for his own satisfaction, he delivers a harsh smack to your pussy, watching as your entire body jolts and jumps up the bed. “your cunt is mine and i’ll do what i want with it, show you how much i missed it.”

his possessive words almost set you off, the knot in your stomach growing tighter with every pinch of your nub and every swirl on his tongue inside your walls, committing every ridge to memory. your body burns and you’re not sure if it’s from dabi pressing against you so hotly or because of the desire that fuels the fire inside you.

“yours, yours, yours!” you chant like a mantra, high pitched and whiny— your voice mixing with the crude sounds of your own pathetic cunt, that grows louder when dabi spits on your clit to add to your wetness. he lets it drip between your folds, fingers to busy with stimulating you to catch it before it slides between your lower cheeks, opting to use his tongue on you instead.

“ya’like that don’t you? missed your whinin’ pretty girl, fuck, even missed making you a fucking mess.” you keen into his touch, babbling incoherent praises to the man between your legs as he spreads you wider by the ass with one hand and forces his fingers back into your cunt with the other. his fingers curl into a come hither motion, repeatedly pressing down on your spongy spot as he sloppily makes out with your puffy nub— taking only one, two, three strokes to make your eyes roll into the back of your skull and your orgasm to wash over you.

your body convulses, shaking as you’re hit hard by your release— juices gushing all over your lover’s face even as he refuses to let up. “t-touya no...no no...can-can’t,” you whinge, tears clumping in your lashes. dabi spreads your lips again, using three digits instead of two to continue stimulating your clit until another release builds up inside your lower belly— clear liquid gushing out of your abused pussy and staining the sheets below.

he hums proudly, pressing a lasting kiss to your fluttering hole before reaching up to your lips to do the same, barely allowing you the time to catch your breath— chest heaving while you come down from your high. “so pretty when you squirt for me like that, sweetness,” dabi moans into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself on him. but as soon as he comes, he’s gone— rolling you onto your stomach and lifting your hips so your ass sits in the air for him. “gonna take my cock now, kay?”

“kay,” you mumble into the sheets, brain too  fuzzy to resist as the villain manhandles you the way he wants.

after shoving down his sweatpants, the eldest todoroki grips the peachy soft flesh of your ass— smacking it a few times with his heat activated palms to watch the flesh jiggle and his handprint sink into the skin. you lean back, watching over your shoulder as his cock stands at full attention, hard from seeing you come undone on his fingers and tongue. it burns bright red at the tip, another fat glob of precum making it shine and making you dribble with anticipation. “y’such a fuckin’ slut, my beautiful slut… hungry for my cock even after i’ve wrecked your lil pussy so bad,” dabi says with a cocky lilt to his voice, the very tone making your hole clench around nothing. he taps his sticky cockhead against your slit, running it up and down your cunt three or four times— groaning as it slides between your cheeks. the sensation causes your back to arch as you wail, fingers gripping the bed covers so tight that you almost cause them to tear. “don’t you worry baby, ‘m gonna make up for lost time, you don’t have to miss me anymore.”

there’s a double meaning to his words that you don’t ask him to elaborate on, too caught up in the way he teases your hole as he dips his length in— only to pull it right back out. “don’t tease, need you badly,” you plead, earning yourself another harsh spank to your raw ass cheeks.

“shut the fuck up and let me fuck you,” the words are harsh against his tongue, but dabi utters them softly as he relents to his wishes. his cerulean gaze flutters down to where your bodies begin to join, his large hand gripping his length before he starts to push into your dribbling entrance. “god, you’re s’fuckin’ tight, you might as well be a virgin.” pussy spasming at his words, you leak against touya’s cock, creating a lewd squelching sound as he pushes more of himself into you. the weight of dabi’s thick girth causes painful, yet delicious burn which he eases by rubbing soothing circles into your clit once more. “been s’long, i outta fuck you open again, huh?”

“uhuh, take me again touya. make me yours, all over again.” you slur over the spit drowning your tongue, eyes fluttering shut when the villain’s hips surge forward his dick brushes against your cervix. his rough, calloused palm grabs your neck from behind, forcing you down into the sheets while he bottoms out inside of you and pushes the last of his cock past your entrance. the two of you groan in unison, touya sitting heavy inside of your walls before you muster up the energy to say. “move.”

he doesn’t need to be told twice, whilst dabi was enjoying the feeling of being engulfed by your soft, warm insides— cock twitching in relief from time to time— he finds it within him to pull back from your selfish cunt to thrust into you with all his might. the force pulls a broken squeal from between your bitten and bruised lips, your hips pushing back against dabi to keep him inside of you. the pair of you move in sync, bodies dancing in a sensual grind between lovers that moulds your cunt into the shape of your boyfriend once more. “oh fuck yeah baby, oooh, missed your cunny s’bad…” dabi yowls loudly, listening for the squashy sounds of your sexes moving against one another. “christ, you like when i talk about your pathetic little pussy like this?”

you bite down on your lower lip, embarrassed by your own bleats of pleasure when he degrades you like this. annoyed by your lack of answer, touya grabs onto your hips and pulls you off of his cock, only to slam them back into you seconds later. his pace is unforgiving and relentless from there, forcing your body up the bed with every thrust into your core. “yes! like it, love it, missed your cock so bad touya!” you cry, holding onto the sheets for dear life as his dick drags along your pleasure spots and his hands burn marks into your ass and hips.

weakly, you attempt to match his thrusts. circling the meat of your ass back onto dabi and squeezing around the head of his girth every time it plunges into your sopping pussy. your arousals mix as he pounds away at your hole, a thick string hanging between your bodies and dribbling down your inner thighs, tainting innocent skin. the wet noise reverberates across the room, creating a passionate symphony with dabi’s deep, pitiful moans.

even though it had been a while since the two of you had been intimate like this, dabi still knew all the ways to get your body going. he took you from behind but still let his marred hands wonder and explore the planes of your skin, pinching here and there, marking your body as his to use and his alone. there’s love hidden beneath his rough touches, little signs that he missed having you so close to him— having you split open on his cock while you dripped on his pelvis and ruined your bedsheets, was his own way of unleashing his pent up emotions of love, anger and despair onto you and you wanted it. you wanted his good and his bad while he fucked you like his life depended on it, balls deep inside the pussy of the woman he loved was where he was most vulnerable with you.

“s-shit, sweetness, you’re such a pretty mess, so fucked up on my cock, can feel you clamping around me like my greedy bitch should.” you’re stuffed so full, clenching every time touya drives his cock deeper into your gummy cunt, head prodding at the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you. he’s losing his mind at how you choke out his iron hot girth, clear liquid seeping down your thighs at every thrust. “you’re my beautiful brain dead baby, letting me fuck you like this, yeah? missed you baby, missed this,” despite his words, touya is no better than you, mind hazy with thoughts of you creaming around him because of how good he’s made you feel. him, and no one else. you saved yourself for him after all these months, the least he could do was bring you to cloud nine.

he does so by angling his thrusts up to meet your pleasure spot every time, howling your name in the way he knows you like just to feel your hot cunny spew more of your juices out against his tummy. “missed you, thought about this for months,” you lament, elbows that kept you up finally giving out as your body tiredly collapses into the sheets— dabi’s balls still clapping against your ass. he follows you down into bed covers, chest pressing hotly against your back as the jackhammers into you from behind. “thought about your fat cock in my tight pussy, t-touched myself to you...made being alone worth it, made waiting for you to come home worth it. ‘cause i get to see your beautiful face when you fuck me…” you barely register what you’re saying, babbling incorrectly while the temperature of your body rises with your level of arousal.

behind you, touya’s cheeks burn with a new feeling. deep down, all he wanted was to be validated as a lover to you, he’d always been deemed as the bad guy incapable of feeling anything for anyone other than himself. but you, you had proved him wrong so many times and he still found your words hard to believe. yet, it felt good to know how much you loved him. snaking a hand down to your face, the villain squishes your cheeks together and brings you up to his own face despite the arch to your back— he keeps up his sinful pace, your lower cheeks bouncing with every push and pull of his length while he drips a globule of his saliva into your pouting mouth. “shut up,” he grunts harshly, although love is written across his cobalt eyes.

you smile up at him dopily, keeping eye contact with him as you swallow gratefully. “anything for you,” his hands slip from your squashed cheeks to your throat, cupping it as he holds you against him. more arousal pools in your lower stomach, turned on by the thrill of him being able to end your life right then and there, all it would take would be one flame but you know more than anything that dabi loves you and would never hurt you. “i love you, touya todoroki. i a-always will.”

your admission makes dabi’s heart stop in his chest, heated pants tickling your ear as he continues to take you and claim your body as his. with newfound vigor, he links his free hand with yours that lays against the bed and rams his cock into your core as hard and as fast as he can, determined to make you cum. “i—oh fuck, i love you too, sweetness…” the arsonist can feel the way your cunt flutters around his girth at his confession, tears building up in your eyes once more. god, you were so pretty like this, arched for him perfectly in the moon, stars illuminating every curve and dip on your body— showing off the stretch marks from where you’d carried his child. everything about you turned him on in the best possible ways and everything about you that turned him on, also turned out to be everything he loved about you.

your stupid big heart, your stupid big eyes when you say that you love him, your stupid smile when he used to kiss you and hold you and even now when he fucked you. touya todoroki was in love and in the worst possible way but he couldn’t say he regretted a single moment of it, not when you stayed true to him after all these months of being apart. you raised his child and you loved him all the same and a part of him is grateful that you never turned your back on him like everyone else he’s ever loved.

so the least he could do is make love to you, push his creamy cock into the depth of your core while kissing down your spine to watch you shudder oh so cutely. it’s messy and sloppy and the pair of you should feel nasty for the stench of sex in the air, lingering against your skin. but you don’t, how could you? not when love and adoration tingles in the air as well, it’s messy because of the unadulterated emotions you feel for one another— deep in vulnerability is where dabi grinds his cock slowly into you, hitting all the right places that make you scream his name into the night. makes him mumble incoherent praises against your bruised neck and squished cheeks as he lewdly licks a stripe up the column of your neck to behind your ear.

you gush around him and he grunts with ecstasy into your ear, tightening that knot in your stomach as you both step closer to your highs. “you like the way i fill this cunt up, huh? yeah? when i hold you like this, when i fuck you like this?” dabi mutters to you lewdly, holding onto his sanity by a thin thread as his own release sneaks up on him. “tell me you like it...fuck sweetness, please.”

“i love the way you fuck me touya, fuck! only you can make me feel this good,” you moan to appease him, bouncing back against his cock while his hips begin to stutter and your eyes begin to cross. it’s true, you love belonging to him, being able to bring him such pleasure and you know he feels the same way. the villain prods at your g-spot over and over again, stealing your breath away as he pulls you up and into your chest, changing the angle of his hips to bring you to the last hurdle. “baby—ohmygod—-touya! ‘m sososo close, don’t stop...don’t stop, gonna cum, give it to me, give it to me please!” you chant, eyes fluttering shut as you lean your head back against his shoulder and search for his hand, voice rising with every octave as you get closer and closer.

“fucking cum for me sweet girl, shit, cum all over this fucking cock.” dabi manages through gritted teeth, grasping your hand while the pace of his thrusts grow inconsistent.

that’s all that you need to hear before the damn breaks and arousal floods through your entire body courses through your veins. white dances behind your eyes in flashes as your release flushes out of your pussy and drips between touya’s balls, coating them in a layer your honeyed slick. you slump against your boyfriend, not able to mutter a word as you convulse in a silent scream and squeeze both his hand and cock alike.

gently, he pushes you down to the bed and pulls his cock from your intoxicating heat— his free hand clasps around his cock, palming himself towards a swift release. “yeah, oh fuck yeah, fuckin’ love you baby,” he cums on your back and your ass, thick, potent and milky seed landing on your flushed skin before he collapses beside you and exhaustion settles in his bones.

you black out for a few minutes after, fingers still intertwined but dabi manages to slip out long enough to retrieve a washcloth that's damp and warm to clean you both up with. you wake up just as he crawls back into bed with you, kissing your hairline while he makes himself comfortable. “almost thought i’d killed you for a second,” the villain jokes, slinging a loose arm over your bare waist and pulling you to lay on his chest.

“you couldn’t, even if you tried.” you counter sleepily, drawing star shapes on your boyfriend’s naked stomach. a comfortable silence sweeps over the room, despite the thoughts that linger on your mind. looking up at dabi, you notice him drifting off but still can’t help the words that slip from your lips. “why didn’t you ever come back?”

you feel dabi’s chest rise and fall with a deep sigh, fingers coming up to scratch at your scalp— something that used to help you to sleep when you were together before. “i was figuring out a way to get out of the league, to be with you and kori.” he says after some time, catching your eye as you give him a confused look. “shigaraki doesn’t know about her, i never told him. but i knew from the moment we found out about her, i didn’t want her to be a part of the life i’m involved in and knowing how the league works, they’d find a way to make use of her.”

you stay quiet, not knowing what to do with the new information and dabi’s reasoning for staying away for so long. on one hand you were grateful to him for keeping your daughter quiet and safe but part of you still wished he’d given you a sign to let you know it’d all be okay. grabbing your chin, he forces you to look up at him—passionate flames burning in his eyes. “i need you to trust me on this one sweetness, i promise nothin’ will happen to you nor kori. so long as i’m around.”

“pinky promise?” you ask him sweetly, feeling the truth to his words.

you hold up your pinky to the villain’s face, smiling through exhaustion as he rolls his eyes down at you. “pinky promise, babydoll. now get some shut eye, kay?” touya links your pinky with his, scoffing when you make him kiss them.

“g’night, touya.”

“sleep well, babydoll.”

the bed is cold when you wake up the next morning.

the panic sets in quickly, speeding up with the chirping of birds from your balcony outside. you shouldn’t be tearing up over the childishness of a pinky promise. he always made you promises but never actually kept the and as quickly as dabi had waltzed back into your life, he had left you alone and in the cold once more.

gathering yourself together, you stumble out of your bed— avoiding any mirrors that may show the cascade of marks dabi had left against your skin from the previous night. you feel embarrassed and ashamed that you let him back into your life so easily, especially now that you had kori to think about. tears start to well in your tired and puffy eyes as you head to the kitchen, thinking that a mug of coffee will calm you down before you prep your daughter for the day.

but as you wander out of your room, the familiar sound of your baby girl’s laugher drifts through the air— seemingly coming from the kitchen.  the sweet melody calls out to you and suddenly your casual stride to the kitchen becomes a brisk walk so you can reach her faster. “kori? baby? did you climb out of your crib again—?” you call out to her, stopping in your tracks when you round the corner.

dabi stands in the middle of your kitchen, still shirtless, with kori balanced on his hip— in one hand he holds a small blue flame, which you’re sure he believes is safe enough for kori to play with while the other steadies your baby girl while she claps and squeals. a first. you’re not too sure when the last time you’d seen her happy was, but you figure her father’s presence had something to do with it.

“i was going to make you breakfast, but the little shit woke up and i didn’t have enough free hands to make you a grilled cheese.” touya smirks over at you, diminishing his flame to grasp kori’s hand and use it to wave at you. she squeals happily, curls bouncing and eyes lighting up in a similar way to her father’s. your heart melts at the sight of them being together, seeing the mannerisms that they share and how joyous they seem. they both grinned the same way, shared the little twitch in their noses and even their sneezes. kori todoroki was an exact replica of touya todoroki, right down to the tiny red curl she had lost in her white locks.

“you know, i thought you’d left,” you make your way across to the island where dabi sets his daughter down and check her temperature— just in case her sudden change in mood is down to any sickness. “the bed was cold when i woke up.”

“didn’t i make you a promise last night, sweetness? i’m not going anywhere,” the arsonist reminds you, wrapping his arms around you from behind while you wipe at kori’s pudgy baby cheeks and give her the once over again. “if you’re checking the kid’s temperature, she's usually pretty cold because of my mom’s quirk. something ice related will be coming through, but she must’ve inherited your strong constitution. guess she has a normal body temp when i’m around ‘cause it balances her out.” while dabi explains the inner workings of kori’s incoming quirk, she claps and babbles excitedly from her place on the island— making a game out of throwing her toys off of it. all of dabi’s logic makes sense and you seem a little more relieved knowing how to take care of her from here.

picking her up, along with her stray toys, you set your baby down by her playmat again and switch on some baby-safe cartoons while you fix yourself and dabi some coffee, kissing all over kori’s face beforehand. he had whined when you pulled away the first time to give your daughter some attention, it was almost comical how the big bad villain had pouted then. “i wonder if there’s anything of mine she inherited or if it’s all you and todoroki genetics.”

“well, her pretty smile certainly didn’t come from me, babydoll.” dabi muses with a light chuckle, arms trapping you against his chest once more as you continue to make you both some much needed caffeine. the coffee machine whirrs as you sway together in the early morning sunshine, warmth from the sun brushing against your skin and touya’s hair tickling your neck before he presses kisses over your fading love bites while kori’s annoying shows play in the background. everything feels complete and at peace. you feel like a real family. “i could get used to this, this life with you.”

you spin in dabi’s arms, cupping his cheeks and taking in his face for the millionth time in the last twelve hours. “then stay, or at least visit some more now that you’re back. you may not feel it, but kori and i need you. everything has always been better when you’ve been around touya… and i mean that. stay.” you stare at him with pleading eyes, standing on your tiptoes to stare him down and communicate just how much you needed him here with you both.

and for once in his life, touya todoroki feels the most loved he’s ever really felt. here in this shitty two bedroom apartment with his angelic little girl and his beautiful girlfriend during the winter season— touya knows this is right where he needs to be. “i’ll stay, for as long as you’ll fuckin’ have me.”

“forever, then?” you ask, eyes lowering to your boyfriend’s lips.

“forever it is, babydoll.” the villain nods, following your gaze before leaning down to capture your lips with a promise written into your sweet kiss.

extended ending

you thought that the best kind of weather was when the sun peeked out from behind the clouds but the air around you was still as cold as a december’s day. the breeze is enough to make your nose run just a little, but occasionally the warmth of the sun’s rays radiates across your skin like a warm blanket, balancing it out.

it was the kind of weather where people didn’t know how to dress, some wore mismatched shorts and jerseys whilst others were decked out in scarves up to their cheeks and sandals where their toes flopped out. it was the kind of weather that reminded you of dabi and kori, they were your warmth and your cold, they balanced each other out and made your family whole.

kori sits on your right hip as you push the car door closed and wave goodbye to an accomplice of your boyfriend’s— your driver for the evening. your little girl’s curls are combed back into two even pigtails, dark blue bows in each one while the red lock of her hair ( now, much longer ) curls against her forehead stubbornly. she looks so pretty, all fancied up a dress that dabi had chosen for her on this particular occasion, the lace irritated her only slightly but the decapitated endeavour plushie her father had gifted her served nicely as a distraction.

you bounce her once, cooing down at your baby before you look to the hospital in front of you— a look of determination in your eye. ever since the night touya had visited you and swore to stay, he’d kept his word to the best of his abilities. being a villain was still a major factor in your relationship, he came when he could stayed if his job permitted it— taking care of your daughter when your shifts were long and even going as far as to learn his and kori’s favourite recipes to cook on the nights where you couldn’t or you didn’t fancy take out.

in the last few weeks his visits had become slightly more scarce with shigaraki becoming more and more demanding, but touya’s plan to leave the league was slowly coming to fruition along with endeavour and the hero society which had both carved a life of struggle for the three of you.

your boyfriend being busy had given you more time to reconnect with the friends you had lost over the last year, meeting up with those from college, mina and tsuyu ( who’d simply thought you’d gone off the radar ) for kori’s first birthday. they absolutely loved her and your sweet girl loved all the attention she was getting. you even had the chance to reunite with your parents, who were more remorseful that you felt you couldn’t come to them for help than the fact that you’d gotten pregnant during college.

of course, they all asked who the father was and you simply told them that he had died ( which was half true ), using the excuse that you were embarrassed to be widowed and with a child at your young age.

shaking your head, you enter the hospital and recite the words that touya had made you practice the night before. you were here by endeavours orders and needed to see mrs.todoroki. your lover had used some sort of hack to put you on the list of visitors for his mother but one look at kori was all the guards and staff needed to let you through. a few nights prior to today, dabi had asked you to do one thing for him before it all went down, kissing your knuckles over some sushi take out.

so despite your nerves, you would go through with this for him, especially if it meant your family could be together. some guards escort yourself and kori to rei todoroki’s room, leaving you with a curt nod and slightly more polite wave to your daughter. the room itself is slightly bleak, a chair and some blue cushioned sofas positioned in an L-shape parallel to the blanketed bed. there’s a tv in the top left corner which and a set of draws underneath where a clear vase sits— containing blooming blue flowers.

rei looks up when you enter, grey eyes flashing with confusion despite the blank look on her face as kori babbles happily in your arms. “who are you?” she whispers, hands retreating from her flowers and  folding neatly in her lap.

“oh! i’m yn, your son’s fiancé and this,” you beam kindly, further entering the room and being sure to lock the doors behind you. you nod your head down to your daughter who waves around her endeavour plushy— paying no mind to the situation unfolding. “this is our daughter, your granddaughter...kori todoroki! she’s just turned one and daddy thought it was about time she met you, isn’t that right pretty girl?”

“dada!!!”

rei blinks and you smile again. “she’s a daddy’s girl,” you explain and lift your hand to snow the small sapphire engagement ring on your ring finger. touya had proposed last night as well, certain your plan would work out. “and quite frankly, so am i! how can i not be when your son treats me so well.”

nodding slowly, the wife of endeavour looks down at her hands which you note, nervously fiddle with a stray petal. “so, natsu and you—?” you can see her trying to work it out, curiosity written across her features. you could see why the woman might think kori was natuso’s child— they looked a lot like each other just by first glance but rei was missing an important feature. the colour of kori’s eyes.

“oh no, your other son. the eldest one.” you correct her with a sinister shake of your head. swiftly crossing the room to set your daughter down in rei’s lap. you watch with an evil air of satisfaction as rei todoroki freezes with fear, as the mistakes her family paid out to touya suddenly come to the forefront of her mind. she wobbles with kori still in her grip and you shoot her a dark glare— reaching over to fix her flowers in their vase. “touya picked these out, always said that you loved them. such a pretty shade of blue, no wonder why they’re your favourites, right?”

“please leave.” she looks up at you pleadingly, shaking like a leaf in the breeze outside. oh how you wish your fiancé was here to see this but he had more important things to do.

rolling your eyes, you grab the remote to switch on the tv— pinching kori’s nose affectionately to make her laugh again. “come sit with me rei, let’s watch some tv to help you calm down.”

the woman nods weakly, barely moving an inch as you take a seat beside her with a smile. you skip channels a few times, pride swelling up in your chest when you finally land on the right one, touya’s broadcast flashing across the screen. he sits leisurely in a chair, shirtless with all of his beautiful scars on display— a painful reminder of his childhood and what he’d become. “i, touya  todoroki, was born as the eldest son of endeavour. today i’ve killed over 30 innocent people until now, some to protect my family. my daughter, who i have not been able to see due to my father. i would like to let everyone know why i’d end up committing such a hideous act.” he speaks such calmness and clarity, and you can’t help but feel emotional at how he stands in front of the world.

kori grins, leaping up at the sight of her father on the screen and claps her hands. “dada!! dada!! lookie s’daddy!!” she squeals while rei struggles to breathe, panic set in her eyes.

you put a hand on the woman’s shoulder, offering her a sweet grin in an attempt to calm her before the oncoming storm. “keep watching, mrs.todoroki, touya said we’d be one big, happy family after this.” the words are sugar coated and sickly sweet, carrying the dark meaning across to your fiancé’s mother.

looking away, your heart swells while touya tears down the hero society and spills the truth for all of japan to see. you were grateful to the man he’d become— loyal to you, to your daughter and the dreams that you had. the satisfaction of seeing the real villains of the world fall was much greater than any hush money enji todoroki could ever offer.

fin.

— TAGLIST:

@husband-to-tomura-shigaraki @grace-todoroki @toshiuwu  @whet-ones-write​

[fuck-customers]

dear customers, stop

paying with 100s for purchases under $20 (or worse, <10), especially early in my shift. stop that.

giving me crumpled hundreds and fifties. i have to check those bills, and it's so much harder when you decide to stand there holding a crumpled bill for half the transaction and then hand it to me to smooth out. i hate you

taking your card out too soon. it fucking says "do not remove card" for a reason, you walnut

wearing your mask improperly. i can forgive it if you pull it down for two seconds so you can do apple pay or whatever, but otherwise keep it up

bringing your children in here without a mask. very small children cannot wear masks because you literally cannot expect them to keep it on. children old enough to keep their masks on should be wearing them. kids can spread the plague too you know

snapping at me for things out of my control. i do not set the prices of the bags. i do not control the item's price. i cannot give you a discount because the item has been opened and is undamaged. shut your face and know your place. you are not my boss you are a nuisance

taking forever to come up, put your stuff up, pay, etc. i am being timed. your incompetence is going to give me a bad cpr. i am smiling but i am not happy

standing there with your card after i've asked you to put it in. just do it. please. you're not making either of our lives easier

bringing me things to return. the return line is right over there. you didn't have to wait in the main line. register 1 has a big sign that says "returns and exchanges" you pistachio. and don't fuss at me about going through the line again there's no one in the return line

ignoring me. if i say "hi how are you today" in a friendly voice and you completely ignore me don't be surprised when i become less friendly and more tired and i don't try to smile at you

walking up when i didn't call you. most of the time when i don't call the next customer it's because i'm about to go on break or clock out. i am a human, not a checkout robot. leave me alone

walking away while i'm scanning your stuff. don't. do. that. i want to throw your things at you now

not fucking communicating. i've had deaf/hoh customers who didn't say a single word to me the entire transaction (and i only know a couple signs) and they communicated better than your pea-sized brain can manage. because they fucking listened. figuratively i mean

[bobateastay]

plastic flowers - park seonghwa

[x]

nsfw content - do not interact or read if you are under 18

park seonghwa x fem!reader - smut, fluff, angst, unplanned pregnancy, discussion of abortions, ot8 interaction

word count: 11.1k

do not interact if you are pro-life

tag list: @formidxble @http-chan @treasure-hwa @ignoretheskies @uzumakioden @blackjinhwan (unable to tag)

Neither you nor Seonghwa were big on unprotected sex. You'd had boyfriends before who insisted that it was better that way but Seonghwa wasn't particularly fussed. Not that either of you was against it, it just felt more comfortable knowing that you weren't risking an accident. Although maybe ‘accident’ was the wrong word. Seonghwa loved kids. He loved to babysit his friends’ kids with you and he felt envious of the parents who got to hold their toddlers' hands at the park or the fathers who dragged their teenage kids around at the mall. He had always wanted that, being with you had just exacerbated that feeling. He wanted that life with you.

You’d never really talked about kids with Seonghwa. They weren’t something you’d considered before dating him but the way the corners of his mouth quirked upward at the sight of parents playing with their own kids was endearing. For more than a year you felt guilty about the whole kids thing - it became more and more obvious that the two of you weren’t splitting up any time soon and you still didn’t feel the same enthusiasm for children that your boyfriend did. As it turned out, it was nothing to worry over.

You’d been dating Seonghwa for almost two years when your best friend had called you in a panicked rush in the middle of the night, asking you to come over and take care of their four-year-old while they took their partner to the emergency room. You agreed without hesitation, Seonghwa coming with you even though you insisted it wasn't necessary. You got to their house just as they were leaving, their son flustered from the sudden disturbance.

"Hey,” you began speaking to him, smiling down at the boy. “You remember Seo-"

Your words were quickly cut off by the boy’s wailing, your tired state and his tears throwing you off. You were about to speak again when Seonghwa kneeled down, drying the boy's cheeks with his sleeves.

"Hey, you like Kung Fu Panda, right?" he asked, his voice gentle. You watched in awe as the boy nodded through his tears. "Come, I'll show you how to make hot chocolate and we can watch Kung Fu Panda."

Seonghwa was beaming when he picked up the boy, glancing at you like a child who'd gotten a puppy on Christmas day. The two of them got along perfectly and both fell asleep on the living room sofa rather quickly. Your heart swelled with love at the sight and you spent the rest of the night with an unfamiliar but not unpleasant feeling in your chest.

Despite this, you never brought it up to him. Both of you considered it at different times, Seonghwa’s notes app quickly filling up with different monologues in which he pitched the idea of a family to you. You kept a log of your own monologues in your head instead, mumbling the words under your breath while you cooked or when you did the grocery shopping. You caught yourself more than once staring at pacifiers in the baby aisle, looking between the ones decorated with crocodiles and unicorns and debating which one was cuter. Each time was more embarrassing than the last.

Seonghwa wondered where he should tell you. In the shower, with your back pressed against his chest? No, you might slip. What about when watching a movie? But he’d hate to interrupt your train of thought, especially when you were making that concentrated face that scrunched your nose up just a little. Maybe he should do it somewhere public, like your favourite cafe? No, it might end badly and you’d never want to go back there again. No matter how many times or places Seonghwa went through in his head he was always plagued by that feeling of not just yet. He wondered if he’d have to live with that feeling for much longer.

You tugged Seonghwa through the door by his shirt collar, giggling. You’d been out with Seonghwa and the rest of your friends, the night filled with teasing and a grand total of three of the boys getting drunk out of their minds. You and Seonghwa had shared a bottle of beer but not much else, pushing two pink curly straws into the bottle and grinning when you bumped noses by mistake. So while the others got tipsy, you concocted an odd mix of mango juice and Coke that you insisted would be good (it was a lie and you knew it, but Seonghwa humoured you and drank it anyway). Nothing in particular had happened for Seonghwa to predict just how needy you’d be as soon as you were close to home.

“Calm down,” he told you, laughing against your lips, his heart fluttering when you grinned back. “You’ll hurt yourself walking backwards.” With another quick kiss to his jaw you took his advice, hurrying to your shared bedroom and stripping yourself of your pants and underwear before Seonghwa had even shut the door to the room. The sight of you so eager made his already aching erection throb in his underwear.

“Don’t take too long,” you told him. Who was he to keep you waiting?

The way Seonghwa kissed you always made your knees weak, so maybe it was lucky that you were laying down now, his still-clothed crotch pressed to your bare one. His teeth tugged at your bottom lip, hands wandering so that he could push two fingers into you. The way you arched your back in an attempt to get them deeper inside of you made him groan, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your neck. All it took was one angled thrust of his fingers to have you whimpering, hands pulling at his shirt.

“Hwa,” you moaned, your walls clenching around his fingers. “Hwa, take off your fucking shirt and fuck me.”

“Language,” he scolded playfully with a click of his tongue before obeying you. He removed his shirt, cheeks flushing when he saw the way your eyes moved up and down his chest. You were chewing on your lip impatiently, hips lifted just slightly off of the bed. God, he didn’t want to wait either. He pulled down his boxers and then opened the drawer to your bedside table. After rummaging around a little, he swore under his breath. You watched with a pout. “Give me a second, baby.”

You lay there quietly, languidly pushing two fingers in and out of yourself while Seonghwa left the room and finally came back with a defeated look on his face. “What?”

“There’s no condoms,” he huffed, sitting in between your legs. You eyed his erection, the flushed tip and precum beginning to drip down his length made you whine out loud when you roughly pushed your fingers into yourself again.

“It’s fine,” you told him breathlessly. “It’s fine, please just fuck me.”

He stared at you with narrowed eyes.

“Are you sure you didn’t drink anything?” he asked. You could see the look of disbelief in his eyes and realised suddenly how much something like this meant to Seonghwa. He was waiting for you to speak so you shook your head.

“It’s not the right time in my cycle,” you told him. His expression changed, half relieved and half disappointed. His eyes were still asking you if you were sure and one more nod was all it took for him to move, lips once again meeting yours. With a steady hand he lined up with your entrance, kissing you through the first thrust. It was impossible to keep your mouths together though, your mouth inevitably opening to let out the prettiest moans and gasps Seonghwa had ever heard. Your hands rested on his cheeks, eyes falling shut.

“Open your eyes, angel,” Seonghwa told you, voice firmer than usual. You did as asked, arching your back a little as his hands gripped your waist. Every time the two of you fucked felt better than the last - as though it were still the first time. It was the kind of thing you’d never believed in before, that romantic love could really translate into physical love like this. But with each snap of his hips, Seonghwa made sure he fucked into the spot inside of you that always made you whine.

“Seong-” you were cut off by a loud moan, your hand moving so that you could rub your fingers over your clit. He moaned your name out, each thrust punctuated with a soft curse from his lips.

“I love you,” he told you, the sight of you nodding your head quickly beneath him making his cock throb. One of his hands moved to play with your chest, thumb brushing over your nipples. You tightened around him at this, his eyes squeezing shut at the feeling. “Can I- Where should I cum?”

“I don’t care,” you told him. He opened his eyes to find you blushing, open-mouthed and whining. One more thrust and you were cumming on his cock, thighs shaking and back arching as you spoke. “Just cum, I wanna make you cum, Hwa, fuck!”

Your words pushed him over the edge with embarrassing ease, his hips pressing into yours as he came. He panted as he held himself deep inside of you, moaning loudly when he pulled out. You reached for him, grabbing his wrist and tugging him down so that he was laying beside you. The room was quiet save for the sound of both of you catching your breath and the occasional kiss. It was only a little while after you’d begun to doze off that Seonghwa suddenly sat up.

“Baby,” he said, earning only a tired hum from you. “Shouldn’t we clean up? I mean, you should clean up.”

“Unless you’re planning on carrying me, I’m not cleaning anything up,” you grumbled, to which Seonghwa laughed and picked you up, trying not to focus too much on the cum dripping from between your legs. By the time he settled with you in the bathtub you were starting to fall asleep again, waking up with a yell when he splashed cold water on your feet. “I’ll kill you!”

“I love you too.”

Not using a condom wasn’t something that the two of you talked about afterwards. For a few days after you had sex Seonghwa could feel his heart skip a beat each time he saw you, somehow expecting something to be different. It took more than a week to remind himself that you’d told him that your cycle hadn’t been at its fertile window and that you wouldn’t have agreed to have unprotected sex if there was even the smallest chance you’d get pregnant. Seonghwa wanted to bring it up a few times but by the time he had prepared what he had to say you’d been having headaches and back pain for almost a week.

He’d feel inconsiderate to annoy you with something that was so trivial when you weren’t feeling well. He stayed home from work for a couple days just to keep an eye on you - you insisted it wasn’t necessary but Seonghwa didn’t want to leave you home alone while you were fatigued and in pain. You tried to protest but in all honesty you were relieved to have him around when you weren’t feeling well.

“I think you should go to the doctor,” Seonghwa told you one night while he was cooking. You lifted your head from where it had been resting on the kitchen table, watching your boyfriend as he concentrated on the frying pan. You wanted to pretend that you were fine but the sight of him plating up food for you and setting it down with that sweet smile of his made your heart ache.

“I’ll book an appointment tomorrow,” you told him.

Seonghwa spent the following week doting on you. Your headaches weren’t as bothersome although they were still persistent, so Seonghwa was sure to treat you as sweetly as he could. He made it his responsibility to cook and order your favourite foods, happy to see you eating well despite the occasional nausea and frequent back pain.

“What if this is what it’s gonna be like when I’m old?” you whined one night, laying beside Seonghwa while he scrolled through his phone. He replied with just a soft hum and then a loud laugh when you straddled him. “Babe, I’m serious! I’m eating tons and my back really hurts!”

He finally looked up at you, hands easily finding their place on your waist. Unlike you, he was calm, palms gently rubbing your thighs and hips while he deliberately took deep breaths, waiting for you to follow his lead. When you finally did he smiled.

“You’re fine,” he assured you. “Getting old won’t be so bad when we get to do it together. All you have to do is go to the doctor, okay? You probably just need some physio and painkillers.”

You nodded, wincing when his hands came into contact with your chest.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, worry lacing his voice as he shifted you onto his thighs so that he could sit up. You blushed, moving your hands to cover your chest a little.

“Nothing, it just hurt,” you mumbled, using your own hands to carefully knead at your chest, lips pulled into an uncomfortable grimace. Seonghwa watched you with his brows drawn tight together, thumbs rubbing circles into your shoulders. Upon noticing the concern in his eyes you put your hands down again, smiling and leaning in to kiss him. “I’ll just ask the doctor.”

You weren’t sure exactly what you’d been expecting the doctor to tell you. She’d been patient and had checked every symptom, asking you to stretch and bend over while she prodded at your spine, taking your temperature and humming in confusion. She was about to shrug and send you off with a prescription for stronger painkillers when you finally brought up the part you’d been putting off.

“Your breasts hurt?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s more like they’re really sensitive,” you said, clearing your throat. “They’re just… Sore?”

“Are you sexually active?” the question came from her lips as though it were the most obvious thing on earth.

“Yes,” you said, taking a deep breath and eyeing the sympathetic look on her face. When she didn’t speak up, you continued. “We use protection almost every time, though.”

“Let’s talk about that ‘almost’,” she said with a smile. “I recommend you take a pregnancy test and if it turns out you’re not pregnant we’ll book another appointment.” Now maybe you hadn’t been sure what you had been expecting her to say, but you knew that this was definitely one of the things you hadn’t been expecting.

The test should’ve been light in your hands as you sat impatiently on the toilet seat but instead felt like a block of lead, your eyes flitting around the room as you nervously tried not to look down at the test. Out of all the thoughts running through your head, one was the loudest: you should have waited for Seonghwa to come home. Regardless of the result, this wasn’t something you were ready to stomach alone. The sound of the timer going off interrupted this train of thought, however, your eyes finding the test with ease. You rushed to turn off the timer, sure that in just a second you’d be throwing the test away and coming up with a funny way to tell Seonghwa about this.

Silence filled the apartment, followed by the quiet clattering of the pregnancy test being thrown across the room and landing behind the bathtub. You were still trying to catch your breath when you heard the front door open.

“Hwa!” you shouted, voice cracking. There was no response other than the sound of a few chattering voices filling the apartment. You realised that the bathroom door was open, embarrassment flooding you when you realised anybody could find you sitting on the toilet seat with your sweatpants pooled around your ankles. Finally, you heard your boyfriend’s voice join the others and you cried out again. “Seonghwa!”

The response this time was immediate, Seonghwa appearing in the doorway so fast that you’d be impressed if it weren’t for the sudden heavy feeling sitting in your lower tummy. Seonghwa’s eyes met yours and he looked over you anxiously, searching for an injury and upon not finding one turning to look at the small empty box on the floor. He opened his mouth and then shut it again, looking back at you. He knew that no matter what, the two of you could get through anything. With your hand in his and your grounding presence, there was nothing that Seonghwa couldn’t do.

Then why, staring at your wide eyes and trembling bottom lip, could he feel his stomach twist with fear? The pregnancy test itself was nowhere in sight but the box it had come in was discarded by your feet, the missing contents making Seonghwa dizzy. He tilted his head in silent question. Who would’ve known that just one nod of your head could bring both your worlds crashing down in a second?

He stepped inside the bathroom, kneeling down in front of you. His hands weren’t just gentle when they took ahold of your face but cautious, holding you as though you were something fragile. You weren’t sure if that was what brought the first sob out of you or if it was the way Seonghwa rested his forehead against yours - either way, once they started they didn’t stop, your entire body shaking as you reached up to hold his wrists.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” you managed to get out between sobs. “I wanted to plan it, Hwa, I wanted it to be perfect…”

Seonghwa shut his eyes, drawing a long, shuddering breath in a futile attempt to stop himself from crying. He really shouldn’t cry, he thought to himself, but the feeling of your blunt nails digging into his arm only brought forth another wave of tears.

“Hey,” he started, opening his eyes. “Remember when we moved in here and we knocked over the TV before we even got all the furniture in? And I spilled wine on the new mattress?”

You nodded, a weak smile playing on your lips.

“It’s still perfect here, right?” he whispered. You nodded again, this time a breathless laugh leaving you. He pulled back and kissed your forehead, listening to you sniffle. Despite how your tears blurred your vision when you looked up at him, nothing could hide the love in Seonghwa’s face. “It’ll be okay.”

After a rushed talk with Hongjoong, Seonghwa kicked the boys out of your apartment, quick to carry you to bed and hold you as close as he possibly could. Even when you’d stopped crying, your entire body shook. Seonghwa ran his fingers through your hair, smiling when he realised you’d fallen asleep. It was an awful idea for the two of you to go to sleep at five in the afternoon but the feeling of your hands holding onto his shirt even in your sleep was something he wouldn’t sacrifice for the world. He had to keep you safe.

The following days were filled with long, hushed conversations and enough tears to fill a swimming pool. Seonghwa had never cried like this before, he thought his eyes would pop out of his head. After hours and hours of talking there was still no decision on what was going to happen, your face quickly pulling into a pained expression each time you had to say the word ‘baby’ out loud.

There were a few conclusions you both came to. The two of you were young, there was no getting around that. You’d both barely started living outside of your parents’ homes and suddenly you’d been thrown in the deep end. Another was money. Seonghwa’s job paid well but yours barely covered your end of the bills and if you were to go through with the pregnancy it’d be harder for you to work. The last was that your rent contract was about to expire. If the price on the apartment was raised you’d need to find a new home and this time, it’d have to be permanent.

Sometimes you felt like you’d woken up in someone else’s life with all that was going on.

Arguing wasn’t all that common between you and Seonghwa. Of course you’d argued when you’d first moved in together, unused to being together all the time, but the longer you lived together the more they’d subsided into petty quarrels and small disagreements. It seemed, however, that neither of you were really prepared for the stress that the unexpected pregnancy would put on your relationship. Small things suddenly towered until they were irresolvable grievances, both of you mostly keeping quiet about how strained you felt.

“Sweetheart,” Seonghwa called for your attention, smiling at you when you turned to face him. “Can we look over the bills? I wanna figure out what we should do if we have to move out.”

You blinked at him a few times before nodding, seating yourself beside him at the kitchen table. As he shuffled through the papers and circled numbers you found yourself growing anxious, averting your eyes so as not to see the various numbers. Seonghwa sighed when he finally noticed, realising you’d missed half the papers he’d gone over.

“Can you please look at this, it’s important,” he said, already sounding exasperated.

“Not right now,” you mumbled, turning away. “We might not even have to move out and then we’re stressing over noth-”

“It’s not nothing,” Seonghwa insisted, gesturing at the papers with his hands. “I’m serious, this is something we need to know.”

“It’s only because of me, isn’t it!” you yelled, glaring at Seonghwa. “I don’t make enough money so you’re worried about this stupid apartment and all our stupid stuff! I know I don’t make enough money, can we please leave it alone?”

“I never said it was about your salary,” Seonghwa argued, pushing the papers across the table and turning to face you.

“Of course it’s about my fucking salary! It’s not my fault this happened!” you yelled, cheeks turning red as you got more worked up. “This whole thing sucks ass but it’s not my fault!”

“Is it mine, then?” he asked, frowning at you, his voice unnervingly steady. “Whose fault is it, Y/N?”

You faltered then, bottom lip trembling as you felt the anger turn into something softer, more painful.

“Fuck you,” you spat. “You don’t get to tell me it’s my fault.”

“It isn’t your fault but it’s not mine either,” Seonghwa told you, standing up. He still looked calm but you could hear the anger in his voice, his top lip lifting in irritation when he spoke. “I’m trying to keep you safe. Do you really want to end up on the street? This isn’t just about you. I live here too, I have to eat too. Grow up.”

You watched him leave the kitchen, your hands shaking as you slammed them down on the table.

“Fuck,” you muttered, eyebrows drawing together. What was wrong with you? Why were you swearing at Seonghwa, the one person who was trying his best to help you through this? You sat by yourself in the kitchen for a while, reconsidering the things you’d said and guilt piling in your chest as you replayed the bitter ‘fuck you’ you’d said to your boyfriend.

Eventually you got up and went to the bedroom, only to find Seonghwa laying down on his side, curled up with his eyes shut. You climbed into bed behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your chest to his back.

“I didn’t mean it,” you mumbled, voice barely audible with the way your lips stayed almost pressed to the back of his neck. He grunted in response. “I know it’s not your fault. And I don’t… I really love you, Hwa. More than anyone.” His silence made you nervous, heart thumping loudly in your chest.

“I know,” he said finally. “I love you too… Please don’t swear at me like that again.”

“Got it.”

The thumping in your chest settled a little when he placed one of his hands over yours. Seonghwa could never stay mad at you for long.

Seonghwa sighed as he looked around the store with Mingi and Yunho, his eyes scanning the shelves as he looked for something to buy for you. He wanted to surprise you with something, it didn’t matter if it was small, as long as it could put a smile on your face. The longer he spent looking around stores the more hopeless it seemed, the other two starting to get fed up of walking in circles around the near identical aisles.

“Hey, why don’t you get her some of these?” Mingi asked, picking a plastic rose out of a box. Yunho snorted, picking up another plastic flower, twirling it between his fingers.

“It’s plastic,” Seonghwa said, almost irritated. Mingi looked at the older male, taking in once again the exhaustion that had carved itself into his features. He shrugged and picked up another rose, this time a different colour.

“You know, the good thing about plastic flowers is you can spray them with any kind of perfume,” Mingi said simply.

Seonghwa wasn’t sure if it was because of how tired he was or just because he wanted to give you something you’d like but he found himself tearing up at Mingi’s words. Mingi panicked then, waving his hands.

“No, you don’t have to get them for her if you don’t want to!”

“Seonghwa, it’ll be fine,” Yunho tried to comfort him, handing him the plastic tulip he’d been holding. Seonghwa felt his heart ache in his chest as he tried to contain his tears. He wasn’t sure if he’d consciously thought this to himself until now, but it was suddenly the only thing he could think about. He found himself speaking before he even had a chance to consider the words coming out of his mouth.

“I really want the baby,” he whispered, pressing his lips together as tears spilled down his cheeks.

The other two stayed quiet, pulling him into a hug after a moment. He ended up buying a small array of the plastic flowers, picking out your favourite colours even though they didn’t really fit together well. He sprayed them with the perfume he’d worn on your first date, arranging them in a clear vase. The smile on your face upon seeing them was like something out of heaven and Seonghwa wouldn’t have traded that moment for anything else in the world.

The next week or so was lived in almost constant silence between you and Seonghwa. You both couldn’t focus on anything but the pregnancy and what was going to happen next. You’d become anxious about it, never lingering on your reflection in mirrors for too long, unable to fall asleep without Seonghwa’s arms around you. He wasn’t sure what to do either. He’d never felt like this before. Maybe nothing in his life up until now had held so much meaning.

He came home late from work one day, his eyes widening upon hearing your quiet sobs.

“Y/N?” he called, almost falling over as he rushed to take off his shoes. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

He was met with the sight of you hugging your knees on the sofa, Yeosang sitting beside you with his arm around your shoulders. Seonghwa rushed to sit beside you, pulling you into his lap and trying to shush you.

“I ran into her on my way home and she was crying,” Yeosang explained. “I didn’t want to leave her alone.”

Seonghwa nodded, thanking Yeosang as he left the apartment, squeezing Seonghwa’s shoulder as he did. Seonghwa knew there wasn’t anything he could say to soothe you, trying instead to alleviate the pain by rubbing your back. Finally, you spoke.

“Hwa, my mother doesn’t think I should have the baby,” you mumbled. He felt an icy cold grip his heart, hand stilling between your shoulder blades. “Isn’t she right? My body will change so much and- and what about money? Hwa, what if I’m an awful mother? Maybe she’s right.”

Seonghwa couldn’t help the choked sob that escaped him. He wailed quietly, great sobs heaving through his chest, shoulders shaking. You found your heart shattering as he pressed his face to your shoulder. You knew Seonghwa loved you above all else - he wanted nothing more than your happiness and safety, so you knew that whatever decision you made he would support you wholeheartedly. But in that moment it hit you like a freight train just how much this meant to him. He tried to catch his breath, swallowing mouthfuls of air that never reached his lungs. The crying seemed to last forever, Seonghwa’s face red and blotchy by the time he was done.

It was almost impossible to fall asleep that night, your body aching with fatigue. You hadn’t been asleep for more than a couple hours when you woke to the sound of Seonghwa throwing up. The sight of your boyfriend bent over the toilet was like a knife twisting in your stomach.

Kneeling on the tiled bathroom floor, the two of you held each other - no tears, just quiet breathing.

“I love you,” Seonghwa murmured. It was the first time you’d heard those words in a few days. You shut your eyes.

“I love you too.”

The thought of an abortion was terrifying. You grappled with the idea, reminding yourself each morning that you weren’t going to have this baby. It became painful, the way that you forgot everyday what you’d decided to do, starting from square one to convince yourself each morning that this was really going to happen. You’d never even considered the possibility of your first pregnancy ending like this, especially not when you were going through it with the one person you loved most in this world.

Despite his initial reaction, Seonghwa was nothing but supportive. He did the necessary research and looked into clinics, trying to avoid any talk about the pregnancy in case it might upset you. He tried to come to terms with the fact that this wasn’t a baby anymore, but something that was causing you grief. You always came first. That didn’t make it any easier.

You never spent time alone after the first appointment you had to schedule the abortion. One of the boys was always there to walk you home after work and sit with you until Seonghwa would come home. Hongjoong made you tea every time he was over, being the only one you ever really talked to about the pregnancy aside from Seonghwa. He didn’t try to give you too much advice, instead listened carefully and made sure you never felt alone. San and Wooyoung liked to play Monopoly with you, their loud shouts and cheers easily taking your mind off of what was troubling you. Mingi organised movie nights every now and then, the movies he picked were always lighthearted and never involved much emotion. You appreciated his caution.

Hongjoong was the one whose company you appreciated the most. He learned which teas were your favourite and which mugs you liked the most, so he was always ready to make you a drink when you both got to your and Seonghwa’s apartment. Sometimes he bought pastries to bring with him, squeezing your shoulder and ruffling your hair fondly when you thanked him.

“My mother won’t leave me alone about the whole-” you cut yourself off, unable to bring yourself to say the word out loud. “About this whole thing. I can’t tell if she’s right anymore or if she just… Doesn’t like the idea of me having a baby right now.”

Hongjoong hummed in response, glancing at you where you were sat at the kitchen table.

“Why don’t you tell her that?”

You rubbed your forehead with your thumb, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Because what if she’s right? She’s been pregnant before so what if she knows what she’s talking about?” you asked, smiling a little when Hongjoong sat down with two mugs of tea, handing you the sugar. He watched you put in a couple of spoonfuls, hesitating before adding a third. He smiled, knowing how much you’d been craving sweet things lately. “What if this is the biggest mistake I ever make, Hongjoong?”

He thought about it for a second, making small ‘pop’ sounds with his lips. He sort of wished Seonghwa was there but then remembered that it was difficult for the two of you to talk about some of these things. He was reminded of the time a week ago when Seonghwa had called him crying, barely able to form sentences. Hongjoong wished that he could ease the weight on both your shoulders but there really wasn’t much he could do.

“Y/N, it’s your mistake to make,” he said finally, catching your attention. He leaned his face against his palm. “I know your mother might think she knows better but if your choice is a mistake, it’ll be your mistake to live with.”

You frowned. You knew he was right but it was hard to dismiss your mother’s advice.

“What do I do, Hongjoong? I don’t know what to do,” you mumbled, sighing softly.

“None of us can tell you what to do,” he said. “Not me, not your mother. Not even Seonghwa - as much as he might want to, he would never do that to you. No one can make you… Carry this or get rid of it either. Whatever you do, though, he’s always going to be there.”

Noticing the frown forming on your lips again he reached across the table to squeeze your hand.

“I’m serious. I’ve never seen anyone as whipped as Seonghwa is for you,” he said with a grin. “He’ll do anything for you.”

Relief washed over him when you smiled finally, squeezing his hand back.

At the end of the day, though, you still found your hands shaking with the knowledge that there was something inside of you that you’d never meet. You went to the next appointment with Seonghwa, holding his hand tightly as the nurse performed an ultrasound. The feeling of Seonghwa’s lips on your shoulder was grounding but the comfort was short-lived.

“Do you want to know the baby’s sex?”

“No,” you said immediately, not catching the crushed expression on Seonghwa’s face.

“Would it be okay for me to find out?” he asked, his question directed at both you and the nurse. He turned to face you. “After you leave the room?”

The nurse glanced at you, nodding at Seonghwa once you gave a nod of consent. You waited in the hallway for Seonghwa, your heart aching in your chest. The sound of the door opening seemed louder than anything you’d ever heard before. The look on Seonghwa’s face made your world fall apart.

“Is it a boy?” you asked quietly. You recognised the heartbroken excitement on his face, recalling how he’d handled your best friend’s son, the way he had looked to you as if to say ‘look, we’re going to have a son like this someday too!’. “It’s a boy, isn’t it?”

Seonghwa nodded, pressing his lips together into a tight-lipped smile that didn’t show any emotion. You opened your mouth and spoke without thinking, your heartbeat thumping loud in your ears.

“We have a son.”

Your words were heavy, hanging in the air as Seonghwa tried to think of something to say. He couldn’t come up with anything at all.

“A son,” he whispered, staring at the look of wonder on your face. This was the first time he’d heard you address the baby as your child, the first time he’d seen you look remotely happy about this whole thing. He would have been glad, would have been elated to see the pain and sadness lifted from your shoulders, if it weren’t for the knowledge that this wasn’t going to last for much longer. Up until now Seonghwa had been sure that he’d seen you at your worst - the worst was over, he’d told himself, he’d never have to see you in that much pain again.

But watching your expression change from hopeful to mournful was by far the worst thing he’d seen so far.

“Hwa,” you said, standing up to hug your boyfriend tightly. Your shaky voice was almost inaudible. “He needs a name. He needs a name so I can- I want to make sure he has a name.”

Hearing you say ‘he' instead of the words you’d been using so far made his heart ache. Seonghwa nodded, placing his hand atop your head.

“We can do that,” he reassured you. “We’ll give him a name.”

Seonghwa was dreading giving the baby a name. If he heard you say it out loud, it would kill him, he was sure of it. He took three days off work after finding out that the baby was - or would’ve been - your son. He thought it would be helpful, to have time to think, mourn, grieve, without having to worry about anything else. But sitting alone in your shared apartment, he found himself unable to cry, unable to process. His mind jumped back and forth between the possibility of having a child and the reality that this wasn’t meant to be. By the end of the second day he had a pounding headache throughout his head, aching behind his eyes and making it difficult to eat.

“Baby,” you said softly, kissing Seonghwa’s forehead as you sat beside him on the sofa. He was watching TV - watching may have been the wrong word as he kept his face turned away from the screen, knowing the harsh light would only make his headache worse. You smiled when he turned to face you, running your fingers through his hair and pulling him into a gentle kiss. “Why don’t you go out a little tomorrow?”

He shook his head, pressing his lips together. Seeing the concern in your eyes made him feel weak. This was so much worse for you, he was sure, so much harder. He should be the one comforting you, so why did he feel like he was drowning.

“I know you wanted to stay home for a bit,” you began, rubbing your thumb back and forth across his cheekbone. “But I don’t think anything good will come from being alone here for three days straight. You could meet with the boys.”

Seeing the hesitation on Seonghwa’s face, you tried again.

“Maybe just Hongjoong?”

You watched him reconsider, relief washing over you when he nodded. He laughed when you threw yourself at him in a hug, letting out a long sigh at the feeling of your warm skin against his own. In that moment the guilt lifted a little. He loved you so much, wanted nothing more than to have a family of his very own with you. It was no surprise he was hurting.

You’d been right about leaving the house. Seonghwa was frustrated, pulling on the dullest clothes he could find, enjoying the way they swallowed his figure, wishing they could hide him just a little more - then he wouldn’t have to see himself, nor would anyone else have to see him. He spent far too long standing in the doorway, staring at his shoelaces as though they’d suddenly become the most intriguing thing on Earth.

But he couldn’t deny that once he stepped outside the apartment building, looking around the street he’d become so used to for the past year and a half, he felt the heavy ache in the back of his head soothe a little. Hongjoong’s smile and tight hug were comforting when he met him at the boba tea shop they used to come to often while they were still in college. Paired with the warm weather outside, Hongjoong’s presence made the uncomfortably tight knot in Seonghwa’s stomach loosen.

“Did you guys settle on the abortion?” Hongjoong asked, keeping his voice low. Seonghwa chewed on his straw to avoid answering the question. He knew it was an entirely reasonable question and that he had nothing to fear when it came to Hongjoong. He could tell him anything. If it weren’t for the lump in his throat, Seonghwa probably would have answered without any difficulty.

“She wants to name him,” Seonghwa finally said, moving the straw around so he could listen to the ice cubes clink against each other.

“Him?” Hongjoong asked, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. Seonghwa looked up, eyes wide with confusion before realising he hadn’t told anyone about finding out the baby’s sex. He hummed with a small nod.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “It would’ve been our son. Yeah, she wants to name him. I think it makes it easier to say goodbye.”

Hongjoong nodded in understanding, drinking quietly as he thought over what to say. It was always impossible to know what he should say. The whole situation was like a tipping scale that was one feather away from collapsing.

“If it’s too scary to do it alone you could always invite the rest of us over,” Hongjoong suggested. He saw the way Seonghwa practically grimaced and couldn’t stop himself from laughing a little. “You don’t have to but it’d be easier for you and Y/N. A chance to… Not forget about everything but it’s easier to carry something when there’s more people carrying it.”

Seonghwa shrugged a little while he chewed, turning the idea over in his head.

“No pressure,” Hongjoong said, not expecting Seonghwa to shift in his seat to lean against him, his head resting against Hongjoong’s shoulder. He smiled, letting Seonghwa rest against him. It was only five minutes later that he realised the other had fallen asleep.

In the end you decided to bring all of the boys over to have a sort of naming party. It was the first time all of you would get together for something focused entirely on the baby - you’d been calling it a baby more often lately, although it was always accompanied by a sharp intake of breath and a pause before you were able to continue speaking.

One night when you went to shower Seonghwa was startled by a loud gasp from the bathroom, followed by a winded laugh. It’d been rare to hear you laugh lately, the sound warming his heart.

“Everything okay, angelface?” he called from the living room, waiting patiently for you to answer.

“Hwa,” you called. “Can you come here?”

He got up, sighing softly as he did so. When he saw you he felt just as winded as you’d sounded, his eyes widening. You stared at yourself in the mirror, two of your fingers running up and down the small bump that was starting to form in your lower stomach. Seonghwa watched your expression, the awe in your eyes and the way your lips parted in a small ‘o’ of interest. After a few moments of watching you, Seonghwa spoke up.

“Can I-” he cleared his throat a little, trying not to sound like a creep. “Can I touch it?”

You nodded eagerly, smiling a little when Seonghwa stood behind you, his chest pressed against your back as he placed his hand on the bump. He let out a long, shaky breath.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry that- I should’ve known better, I knew you weren’t ready and- and… I’m sorry that it turned out like this. I love you so much and I never- I wanted to talk about it before it happened. I’m so sorry.”

You listened, sighing at the feeling of his forehead resting on your shoulder. After a moment you placed your hand atop his, intertwining your fingers.

“I wouldn’t want this to happen with anyone but you,” you told him, thumb rubbing over his. “I think… I think I want to marry you.”

“Are you proposing to me?” he asked with a giggle.

“Maybe,” you said, your voice playful. “I should probably buy you a ring first.”

Seonghwa felt his cheeks heat up. The guilt on his shoulders dissipated a little, the feeling of your warm palm on his hand bringing him back to the present. You were here - his girlfriend, future wife and maybe something more someday soon. That was all that mattered.

As you waited for the boys to turn up for the naming, sitting on Seonghwa’s lap in the living room, you felt a sadness swell in your chest. You realised then that you weren’t going to see the small thing living inside of you. And why? Because your mother was embarrassed? Because you’d end up with stretch marks or loose skin?

Did those things really matter in the long run? You shifted your head to kiss Seonghwa’s cheek, his lips curving into a smile at the small gesture. You wondered what you would give up to be able to see that smile everyday.

The naming party was just as chaotic as you’d expected and yet much more fun than you thought it would be. It was the first time you’d been this open about what was going on, the first time you were really acknowledging any of it. The boys seemed worried about it at first, treading lightly so as not to upset you, but the longer the evening went on, the happier they seemed to see you a little more relaxed about what was going on.

Crowded into your living room, they laughed at each other’s name suggestions, writing them down on slips of paper and putting them in a bowl. Wooyoung cackled at the other’s suggestions, convinced that his were the coolest (in fact they were all convinced that theirs were the coolest). Jongho sat beside you, asking you questions about how you’d been and every now and then squeezing your arm lightly. Hongjoong had brought donuts and iced tea, making sure you got your favourites before anyone else could take them. Seonghwa was relieved to see how the rest of the boys took care of you. You were never really alone and that knowledge comforted him.

“Okay!” you announced, grinning. “I’ll pull five names and pick my favourite-”

“It’ll be one of mine,” Wooyoung said with a grin. Before any of them could argue, you continued.

“-but if I don’t like any of them, I’m gonna pull more,” you said with a giggle. There was a hum of understanding and you smiled, linking your arm with Seonghwa’s and resting your head against his shoulder as you pulled out five slips of paper. You smiled as you read them out loud.

Doyun.

Beomseok.

Eun.

Hye.

Minjun.

“That one’s mine,” Jongho said, pointing at Beomseok.

You hummed in response, tracing the writing with your finger.

“Which one’s your favourite?” Yunho asked, his lips pressed together in an excited smile.

You made small ‘pop’ sounds with your lips as you considered, Seonghwa recognising the habit as something you’d picked up from Hongjoong. He wrapped an arm around your waist, watching the way your eyes flitted back and forth between the slips of paper. He knew you were already grieving, looking for a name for something you’d never see, never get to hold or know. He knew it was harder for you than it ever would be for him and he found himself wishing for the millionth time that he could lift this off of your shoulders.

“I don’t really like Dohyun,” you admitted, setting the paper aside. San giggled, the laughter spreading to the rest of the boys as Wooyoung put his head in his hands. The laughter spread to you, the loud sound of your amusement catching Seonghwa off guard. He hadn’t heard you laugh like that in a long time.

“It’s lack of taste is what it is,” Wooyoung said, shaking his head at you.

“Hey!” Seonghwa exclaimed, but his wide grin betrayed him, he couldn’t really be angry right now.

“Okay, okay,” you said, settling down a little. “I’m sorry Jongho, but Beomseok isn’t my favourite either.”

“Maybe Wooyoung is right,” Jongho said, earning a light shove from you.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s not your baby,” you said, a small smile still playing on your lips as you waved your hand. “Hye and Minjun are my favourites.”

There was a hushed but still audible ‘yes!’ from Yunho and Yeosang’s smile grew, the two of them staring expectantly at you. You turned to face Seonghwa, holding both slips of paper.

“Hwa? Which one do you like?”

Seonghwa sighed, taking one of the slips of paper from you, biting his bottom lip. Saying the name out loud would make all of this so real, so much harder to live through. It was already impossible - this would hurt for the rest of his life, he was sure of it - but giving the baby a name would bring it so much closer, make his already bleeding heart fall apart. He didn’t even have to look at you to know that he would still do it for you. He didn’t need any convincing - he’d do anything for you. All he needed was a deep breath and-

“I like Minjun more,” he finally said, Yeosang clapping triumphantly. Everyone cheered, your cheeks flushing as you watched them celebrate. For a moment they’d forgotten what this was really for, and you got swept up in their excitement, the name replaying in your head over and over again. Seonghwa tried to forget what would happen soon, tried to let himself be just as excited as the others were. He wanted to live in this moment always - or at least just for a little longer.

Hongjoong caught the look on his face and felt his smile falter.

“Hey, we should get going,” he said, trying to get the boys to calm down. “Or at least be quiet, it’s getting late.”

“No, please stay,” you said, standing quickly. “I thought we could get takeaway and-”

“Are you sure?” Hongjoong asked, the rest of the group finally realising that they should’ve kept their excitement to a minimum. You nodded and finally broke out into a wide grin.

“I think we have… Something to celebrate,” you said, pulling on Seonghwa’s arm so that he stood. He felt his heart thump hard in his chest, hands shaking as you took one of his hands in both of yours. You didn’t speak for a long while, looking down at Seonghwa’s hand while you played with his fingers, bending them and intertwining them with your own. Despite your long silence there was no impatience in the room, just anticipation. It was somewhere between dread and nervous excitement, but you couldn’t decipher Seonghwa’s expression at all. “I uh- I wanna keep the baby.”

The silence felt thicker now, heavier, but it lasted just a few seconds before Seonghwa hugged you tightly - tighter than you’d ever been hugged - San cheering and the rest of the boys following suit. Their cheers this time were louder and in the back of your mind you considered that you might get a noise complaint tomorrow (not that you could find it in you to care). Mingi and Yunho in particular watched Seonghwa, his words from the day they’d picked out plastic flowers at the store for you suddenly feeling like a distant memory.

“Hey, don’t cry,” you told Seonghwa, rubbing his back gently. You could feel him shaking beneath your touch, pressing his face harder into the crook of your neck. The rest of the boys kept their distance, settling back to where they’d been sitting before while you held Seonghwa, giggling a little when he squeezed you closer.

“Hey, you shouldn’t cry in front of Minjun,” San joked. “Not yet, at least.”

Seonghwa finally lifted his head at that, his cheeks red and tear-stained. His mouth was pulled into the brightest smile you’d ever seen even though his eyebrows stayed furrowed, his hands planted firmly on your waist. He’d never looked more beautiful.

“You okay?” you asked, cupping his cheeks and wiping his tears with your thumbs.

“Yeah,” he said, letting out a breathless laugh. “Yeah, I’ve never been better.”

The rest of the evening was easier after that, filled with questions about how you’d decorate Minjun’s room and what colour clothes you would buy for him and were you going to have a baby shower, or did this already count as a baby shower?

“You didn’t bring any gifts, so this definitely isn’t the baby shower,” Seonghwa said, still sniffly but having somewhat recovered from his overwhelmed state. Jongho protested that they might not have money for gifts but Seonghwa wasn’t having it, pointing his finger at the youngest. “It’s our first baby, you have to buy socks for him at least.”

“First?” Yunho asked, raising his eyebrows. Seonghwa faltered then, cheeks turning red.

“Yeah, first,” you confirmed with a grin, seemingly oblivious to your boyfriend’s profuse embarrassment. “Maybe next time someone else will win the baby’s name.”

“If I named him, do I get to be the godfather?” Yeosang asked, almost tackled to the ground by the other boys, their laughter and complaints boisterous. You glanced at Seonghwa and he silently mouthed ‘Hongjoong’, to which you nodded in agreement, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips while the others were distracted.

You slept better that night than you had done in the past few months, your mind no longer heavy with fear or shame. You were still nervous - about your mother and money and where you’d live. The sight of Seonghwa smiling even as he fell asleep dispelled any worries you had.

“Hwa?” you whispered, even though there was no one else in the apartment to disturb. “You still awake?”

He grunted in response, not opening his eyes but pulling you close to him, your forehead soon resting just underneath his chin. You smiled at the action, letting your arm rest over his waist.

“You’re gonna make a great dad.”

He opened his eyes at this, albeit barely, his eyelids still drooping from how sleepy he was.

“You’re gonna be the best mom,” he mumbled, words slurring a little from being half-asleep. You smiled, kissing his chin before settling down again. You didn’t have any dreams that night other than a brief scene of you and San buying cotton candy. Sleep was no longer your enemy.

The elation you felt the following days was something you never could have imagined was possible, waking up without fearing the days to come and without wondering if you were about to make an awful mistake was an immense weight lifted off of your chest. But this happiness was much more than just the absence of negative feelings. It was a warmth that you felt in your fingertips when you woke up, excitement that would sneak up on you out of nowhere and smiles that lingered on your lips long after whatever had made you laugh was over. The best part was having Seonghwa beside you and knowing that he was just as ecstatic as you were - you’d liken his smile to a ray of sunshine but it was far brighter.

The most stressful part was finding a new apartment but even then your excitement was contagious. You viewed various apartments with Seonghwa, giggling at the odd furniture you’d sometimes find and having to cover your mouths to hide your laughter from the estate agents. In the end you settled on a smaller apartment that wasn’t far from where you currently lived. It was positioned well - sunlight filled the kitchen in the morning and shone into the master bedroom in the afternoons. All the boys helped you pack and move your stuff, exclaiming when they saw the new rooms and made eager suggestions.

You were exhausted on the first night in the new apartment yet you weren’t tired. You felt like you were eleven again, unable to sleep on the night before a school trip with how ecstatic you were. The boys stayed over that night, drinking iced tea and soda instead of beer so as not to leave you out, each of them making exaggerated (and sometimes sincere) toasts to you, Seonghwa and Minjun. The sun was already starting to rise when you fell asleep, sitting with your back against Seonghwa’s chest with his hands resting on your stomach.

Seonghwa sighed quietly, his back against the living room wall as he glanced around his circle of friends. You weren’t the only one asleep - Hongjoong and Mingi had also fallen asleep and most of the others were struggling to stay awake. Seonghwa would’ve been lying if he said he wasn’t sleepy too. He let his eyes fall shut, chin resting against your shoulder. His chest filled with a warmth that had become familiar these days and yet was never any less overwhelming. Between the bare walls of a living room filled with cardboard boxes and empty soda cans, he felt safer than he ever had in his life.

The following weeks were peaceful, filled with smiles and laughter and so many kisses that Seonghwa was surprised you were still so eager for them each morning. He wasn’t complaining though.

“Hwa, can we get breakfast out somewhere tomorrow?” you asked one evening, pulling a hum from your boyfriend’s lips. He turned from the chest of drawers he was putting together, the pale green fitting perfectly against the pastel yellow walls. You’d both spent entirely too much time deciding what Minjun’s room would look like, letting the others help out with picking furniture (inevitably 90% of ideas were discarded - why Wooyoung and San thought the baby needed a baby-sized vanity table would never make sense to Seonghwa).

“We have that dinner reservation,” Seonghwa said, abandoning the drawers for a second to sit with his back against the wall, his eyes focusing on the way your hand rested on your stomach. “Y’know, across the street from the arcade you like.”

“Yeah, but I thought we could get pancakes in the morning, like a double-date day!” you said with a grin. Your enthusiasm had Seonghwa grinning, getting up to smooth your hair out of your face and kiss you gently.

“Double-date day it is,” he said. The love in his eyes was familiar but had you just as flustered as the first time you’d seen it. You took his hand in both of yours, kissing his knuckles fondly. You thought of the rings you’d bought, how the silver would look around Seonghwa’s finger. “You thinking about something?”

You shook your head at the question, kissing his ring finger once more before letting him get back to the drawers.

In the morning Seonghwa was reluctant to get out of bed, whining when you opened the blinds and insisted for him to get up. When he opened his eyes to find you smiling at him, pulling on a sweater he’d bought for you recently, it finally felt worthwhile to get out of bed. He let out a long sigh, his chest rising and falling as he squinted in the early morning sunlight.

“Good morning,” he croaked, groaning when you laughed at his morning voice.

“Hurry, I don’t wanna miss the pancakes.”

The trip to the small diner you liked was quiet, your hands practically shaking with excitement while Seonghwa fell asleep on your shoulder, one hand resting on your thigh. The bus was empty aside from the two of you, the atmosphere reminiscent of high school class trips with your best friends. Except this time you had someone much more special by your side.

The diner wasn’t empty like the bus had been but it was just as quiet, the hum of the coffee machine and quiet radio music the only thing filling the air. You sat down, trusting Seonghwa with your order.

You’d been here so many times - with your parents, with your middle school friends when you all first started getting an allowance, with your high school friends after exams or when one of you had had your heart broken. More recently you’d come here with the boys. You’d done birthday parties here, come here at six AM after long nights out, gone on countless dates with Seonghwa here. As you breathed in the smell of coffee and fried eggs you felt confident that this was the perfect place to propose to him.

He came back carrying a small cup with napkins and cutlery in it, sitting across from you. He leaned across the table to kiss your cheek.

“I got you strawberry pancakes,” he told you, arranging half of the cutlery on a napkin and pushing it across the table to you. “And a vanilla milkshake. I didn’t know if you wanted eggs too but we can always order more after.”

“No that sounds good, thank you angel ,” you said, looking out of the window. Seonghwa watched your grin, his own lips turning upward.

“Why are you smiling like that?” he asked, laughing a little toward the end of his sentence.

“What? I’m just happy we can get pancakes together.”

“I love you.”

You smiled widely.

“I love you too.”

The two of you were fairly quiet while you ate, giggling when you smeared whipped cream on the tip of Seonghwa’s nose and occasionally kicking each other out of embarrassment when the other would sing along to the songs playing on the radio. It was the kind of peace that wasn’t too quiet, warming your heart the same way the sun through the window warmed your skin.

“Do you want anything else?” Seonghwa asked, stirring the straw in what was left of your milkshake.

“Not really,” you said, getting up. When Seonghwa moved to follow you shook your head, holding out a hand. “No, no, stay sitting.”

Seonghwa gave you an amused smile, letting his head rest against one of his palms, admiring the way the warm light made you look. He thought to himself then that he’d chosen the right woman to start a family with.

“Hwa,” you started, taking a long deep breath that ended in both you and him giggling a little. “We’ve been dating for almost three years but I swear every time you smile at me it’s like seeing you smile for the first time. Everyday for more than a year now I wake up next to you and tell myself: ‘wow, make sure you remember this moment - how it feels to wake up next to your favourite person in the whole world’. Every morning I have to remind myself that that’s a feeling I don’t have to try hard to remember, because I’ll never forget how it feels to be around you.”

Seonghwa blinked quickly then, covering his mouth and letting out a breathless laugh. You paused to look at him - his still sleepy eyes, hair almost covering his eyes. He’d need a haircut soon. The sudden off-topic thought put a smile on your face.

“I love it when you laugh and it kinda looks like you’re in pain-”

This pulled a loud laugh from him.

“-and I love that you learned the lyrics to my favourite songs so we can karaoke together and I love that you always take care of me even when I don’t deserve it.”

“You always deserve it,” he said with a small sniffle. You grinned at him.

“If anybody asked me two years ago whether I wanted a family I probably would’ve told them no. At some point the answer changed and I don’t think I realised it until a few weeks ago. I want a family with you - and I know we already have one with the boys but I think Minjun will make it just that much more special,” you said, watching the way he bit his tongue between his front teeth. “But I don’t just want a family with you, Hwa. I want a life and love and so much more.” You took the ring box out of your pocket, watching as Seonghwa’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Seonghwa, will you-”

“Wait!” he exclaimed. You paused, hands trembling at his sudden opposition. You watched him scramble in the bag he’d brought with him, muttering curses under his breath before suddenly standing, a ring box in his hands. If it was even possible, your hands began to shake harder.

“No fucking way-”

“I was gonna propose too,” he said, opening the box. You tried and failed to blink back your tears, sobbing softly when Seonghwa stepped around the table to hug you, one hand rubbing your back while the other played with your hair. You could tell he was crying too by the way he sounded when he spoke again. “I had a whole speech too but I don’t know if I can beat yours.”

“I wanna hear it later,” you insisted, pulling back from the hug to cup his cheeks, wiping his tears away with your thumbs. He nodded happily, kissing you until you were both out of breath. A small giggle left your lips as the kiss broke. “Can I see the ring?”

He hummed softly, exchanging his box with yours as you both admired each other’s choice. He’d chosen a rose gold ring, patterned beautifully and complete with a small rose gold flower. You grinned, looking up to find him inspecting the silver ring you’d bought, smiling wider than you’d ever seen him smile before.

“Here, let’s put them on,” you said, taking his hand in yours.

Thankfully, the rings fit well and although they were mismatched they looked beautiful together. Just as you were about to kiss Seonghwa again, the waitress approached the two of you.

“Can I get the two of you anything else?” she asked, winking at you. “On the house, for the happy couple.”

You lay in bed staring at the ring on Seonghwa’s finger that night, his hand resting on your stomach. He had his eyes shut but you could tell he wasn’t sleeping yet, a smile playing on his lips.

“You know those plastic flowers you bought me are kinda tacky. I love them though.”

“Yeah?” Seonghwa mumbled, sleepy but still awake.

“It’s better when they’re plastic. That way you can spray them with any kind of perfume.”

Seonghwa was reminded of what you’d said earlier when you proposed, amused by how right you’d been. He’d never have to try hard to remember the love he felt for you right now.

[seijorhi]

nostos.

well it’s not exactly monster fucking but um... here there be monsters.

Kuroo Tetsurou x female reader

TW implied non-con, nsfw-ish, blood, gore, minor character death, animal death, um somebody gets munched... 

Every good writer needs peace and quiet. Fresh air and a change of scenery.

You’re not running away, it’s more of a… tactical retreat. Two weeks disconnected from well meaning friends, pushy family members and your eternally irritating editor, with nothing but the beautiful, sprawling forests to keep you company.

The mountains are familiar, if isolating, you think, leaning against the porch railing with a warm mug in hand as the breeze picks up and the tall maple and birch trees rustle in response. The leaves are turning vibrant reds and gold with the falling temperatures and even in the eerie quiet of the cold morning, you can’t deny that it’s breathtaking. 

It reminds you of your childhood, the countless vacations you’d spent here with your family, always in autumn, always in time to watch the leaves change before the first snows of winter set in. Fond memories of running through the trees chasing after cute little bunnies, giggling even when you tripped up and scraped your knees. There was something mystical about the forest back then, something special. But it’s been years since you’ve been here last, and the first time you’ve ever come alone.

And yet it feels different somehow, colder despite the nostalgia. You’re no longer a child, looking at the world through innocent, wondrous eyes. The forest is just a forest. 

Of course, you weren’t an idiot; disappearing off the grid was one thing. Disappearing off the grid without anybody knowing where you were going was another entirely. They’d been surprisingly supportive of the plan – until you told them where it was you were planning on running off to.

‘Why go back to the mountain, honey?’ your mother had asked, her smile wavering and an odd tightness in her eyes. ‘Why not go to the coast instead? Or spend some time in the city?’

But this isn’t a fun little vacation. You don’t want to be distracted by beaches and crowds, you need space to finish your book and time to work through your mess of an emotional state without any interruptions. You want to be untraceable, at least for a week or two.

God knows the last thing you need right now is your ex tracking you down to try and apologise again.

Part of you had thought – somewhat naively, perhaps – that by coming back you’d spark… something. Your memories of the mountains are full of warmth and happiness, but as you stare out into the wilderness, all you feel is a cool chill that runs down your spine and the goosebumps that prickle at your skin. 

Setting your now empty mug down, you pull tighter at the thick knit cardigan draped over your shoulders. Enough reminiscing, your manuscript awaits.

—

The mountain’s too quiet. You don’t notice it so much during the day, the sound of music softly pouring from your laptop and the gentle clacking of keys as you type enough to distract you  from the eerie stillness outside the cabin. Even at night, you’re preoccupied with dinner, and then curled up on the couch with a warm throw rug watching reruns of your favourite shows on Netflix.

It’s only when you lie down, burrowed into the blankets to try and sleep that you notice just how silent the forest at your doorstep truly is. At first you think it’s simply being away from the hustle and bustle of home. There’s no cars driving past, or the sound of neighbours floating through your open windows, there’s not even the distant hooting of owls or dogs barking.

But it’s more than just quiet. There’s nothing. Even the trees seem to still once the sun falls beneath the horizon. And it shouldn't bother you, shouldn’t unsettle you, and yet…

The first few nights, you don’t sleep well. Tossing and turning in bed. When you do sleep, your dreams are plagued with unpleasant things. Not nightmares as such, but an uneasiness that bleeds into otherwise pleasant thoughts. On the fourth night you wake, gasping for air. Whatever dream you’d been in the grips of fades like smoke, and as you draw in another shuddering breath your throat itches and burns.

Water. You need water. 

You don’t switch on the lights as you fumble your way down to the kitchen, trying to preserve what little remnants of sleep are still in your system. Even with the moon almost full and the night sky clear, the canopy shrouds it. 

And it’s in that darkness, as your eyes flicker up from the faucet, that you see it for the first time.

A shape, huge and looming, silk shadow against black. 

For a moment, as your heart hammers against your ribs, a chill creeping down your spine, you don’t dare trust your eyes. Maybe you’re asleep still, dreaming, or your mind’s playing tricks on you, because there’s nothing that should be lurking in the woods outside of your window that size.

Two golden, cat-like eyes peer back at you.

They’re still there when you race to flick on the lights, unblinking, curious as you skitter backwards, hand over your racing heart.

You’re tired, emotionally drained and this–

This is nothing more than a figment of an overactive imagination, a child creating monsters from the shadows in their bedroom. Yet even as you run back to the safety of the bedroom, yank the curtains shut and huddle under the meagre warmth your blankets afford you, squeezing your eyes shut, you feel it out there still, watching.

And in the stillness of the mountains outside, you swear you hear footsteps.

—

You wake to fresh snow, too early in the year, even at these altitudes. It dusts the ground, covering the mossy paths in glittering white, clings to the branches of the trees – the red leaves looking like droplets of blood scattered across a grey sky. The snow will undoubtedly melt as the sun rises, turn to slush and mix with the dirt, but for now it’s a thing of beauty.

For a moment, you allow yourself to forget how tired you are, how unsettled, venturing out from the cabin with wide, excitable eyes. It never used to snow when you were here as a kid, and while you get the occasional snowfall back home, it’s nothing like–

You stop dead in your tracks. 

There’s two human footprints imprinted on the snow – only two – right outside your bedroom window, crisp and clean, as if they’d been left just moments before.

—

Your mother sounds worried when you call her. Of course, you don’t tell her about the lone footprints at your window, or the creepy pair of eyes you’d seen through the dark, you know how that sounds. You’re not crazy, and even if some part of you truly believed what you’d seen, your mom is the last person you’d admit it to.

Once upon a time, when you were little, she’d indulged in stories of fairies and spirits, but that was a long time ago. Now she turns up her nose and sneers at the myths and legends that your grandma still spouts, dismissing them with a scoff.

It’s not the kind of thing well-adjusted adults talk about in polite conversation.

She’s a good woman, but you can’t tell her this. 

And you’re not even sure you’re entirely sold on it either. The eyes could have been from a wild animal – big cats might be rare in Japan, but they do exist here. You were half asleep (half terrified) when you had seen them, you don’t want to make a fuss over nothing. The footprints are less easy to explain away. If there’d been tracks leading away, you could convince yourself that it was a lost hiker and nothing more.

But there weren’t any tracks leading away; just the two footprints. And what kind of hiker doesn’t wear shoes in weather like this? It’s possible that this is some kind of prank, a mean spirited trick designed to unsettle you – a job well done, by the way – but you can’t quite bring yourself to believe that either. 

In any case, you’re hardly going to admit over the phone that you’re freaking out over some footprints in the snow. God knows she’s already worried enough about your mental state, has been ever since the breakup, and you’re not going to give her any more ammunition. 

But perhaps there is something to that maternal instinct, because despite your best efforts to reassure her that you’re doing just fine, that your novel’s going great and you’re so glad you came out here, she still sounds entirely unconvinced.

“Honey, you know you can tell me if something’s wrong,” she tells you, her voice strangely hesitant. “You don’t sound yourself, are you sure everything’s okay?”

You don’t know why you called her at all. You always have been a shitty liar, and she’s always been able to see right through you. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Honestly the fresh air’s doing me good,” you tell her. “It’s weirdly quiet here though, I’m not used to it,” you laugh, and even to your ears it sounds hollow and fake.

There’s a heavy pause on the other end of the line, and if you close your eyes you can almost picture it, your mom leaning against the kitchen counter, teeth worrying into her bottom lip–

“I just don’t like you out there all by yourself.”

Relax, what’s the worst that could happen?

The words almost, almost slip out, an instinctive reaction to a mother’s well meaning but overbearing concern. But it feels like tempting fate, and whether or not you’re fully convinced that there is something strange happening, you’re not that bold. Instead you begin to tell her (again) that everything’s fine when she suddenly speaks again.

“Bad things happen in those mountains. Just… just promise me you’ll be safe.”

Abruptly, the line goes dead. 

Pulling the phone from your ear, you glance down at the illuminated screen, only to frown when you see the little ‘SOS Only’ flashing in the top corner. Huh, you’d had a few bars when you’d started the call, but… 

The weather’s gotta be messing with your signal. Stranger things have happened, right?

Shaking your head you resolve to give her a call tomorrow. And yet, even as you try to put her parting words from your mind and throw yourself back into your writing, you can’t help but feel that familiar sense of cloying unease seeping through your skin once more. 

What the hell had she meant, ‘bad things happen in those mountains’?

—

A good night’s sleep can do you wonders. 

Well, theoretically speaking. You can’t remember the last actual decent sleep you’d had, but regardless, the point stands. All you need is an uninterrupted eight or nine hours, and this… paranoia will go away. Things’ll be clearer in the morning, so long as you sleep.

The mantra doesn’t help you any, of course. 

You don’t need to peer through the window to feel those watchful eyes staring. And maybe it would be easier to ignore the prickling sensation at the nape of your neck if it weren’t for the noises.

Music isn’t loud enough to drown out the sound of the mournful wails, like a wounded animal crying out in pain. It’s incessant, inescapable, reverberating inside of your eardrums until it’s all you can focus on.

It’s instinctual, you think, the urge to creep from your bed and try to find the creature making that sound and help it. But even as your feet touch the cool floorboards, your gut clenches, hackles rising. Something deep inside of you warns you from leaving the safety of the cabin.

Whatever creature is making those noises, it’s not calling for help.

You don’t feel like you’ve slept at all, but you must have because at a certain point in the morning you blink your eyes awake, exhaustion clinging to you like a second skin.

And this time it’s not snow that greets you, but the mangled remains of a doe ripped apart on your porch. Deep, jagged gouge marks run along its flank, organs spilling from the cuts and there’s little left of its neck, the whole thing torn out with teeth. Yet for the gruesome injuries, the only blood you find is congealed, pooled beneath the poor creature.

Whatever happened to it, it didn’t happen here. The knowledge doesn’t soothe you like it should – the park ranger you spoke to on the phone mentioned that while it’s rare, sometimes bears venture a little too close to buildings, though he sounds doubtful even as he says it.

He sounds even less interested when you tell him this doesn’t look like a bear attack, but promises they’ll send someone down in the next few days to check everything out. In the meantime, he suggests, it’s best to stay indoors. 

Yeah, not gonna be an issue.

And so with no feasible way of moving it, you’re left with the butchered corpse of a doe just outside your front door. And the thing that bothers you isn’t so much the body, though you still can’t look at it without wanting to throw up, but the fact that it was just… left there.

Not eaten. No, aside from the missing throat, the deer’s all there. Ripped apart with its guts spilling out, but otherwise untouched. Growing up you had a cat, the sweetest little thing, but every once in a while she would get out of a night, find some poor little creature to torment and without fail, she’d bring it back home, leaving it half dead on the doorstep like a gift.

‘See what a good hunter I am?’ she seemed to say, smugly sauntering back inside. 

It wasn’t about food. It wasn’t hunger that drove her, but instinct. As you stare out the window at the doe, at the milky white emptiness of dead eyes, you wonder whether that’s the same here. There’s no tracks in the dirt, no blood smeared across the ground – it wasn’t dragged here. No animal could’ve done this. 

A gift? 

Or perhaps something less benevolent. A threat. You’ve crossed into territory you don’t belong and the deer, cruelly ripped apart and left to bleed out on your doorstep is a line in the sand.

Either way, as tears fill your eyes, a sob tugging free from your chest, you realise that it was a mistake to come here. You don’t know whether you trust your eyes and your ears anymore, but there is something deep inside of you that tolls like a warning bell and as much as you’d like to bury your head in the sand and pretend there’s nothing wrong here, you can’t.

Bad things happen in those mountains.

You need to leave.

The next ferry to the mainland doesn’t leave until tomorrow morning, but it’ll have to do. Once you stop shaking and calm down enough to carry a conversation, you call the local cab company to arrange a pick-up first thing.

You can survive one more night, you just need to throw yourself back into your writing… if you can only just ignore that sense of foreboding prickling at the back of your neck.

—

There’s a boy running through the trees, giggling as he glances back at you. His hand’s outstretched, wrapped ‘round yours tugging you along as he laughs at you to hurry up.

It’s late, the sun dipping below the horizon, but you don’t wanna go back just yet.

You’re having fun, playing in the forest. And the light is golden, filtering in through the pretty red leaves, your sides burn a little from all the chasing and laughter but it’s a good kind of ache. You don’t want today to end.

His name is Kohsuke, you remember, and he lives down in the village by the valley. He’s only one year older than you, and you’d follow him anywhere. 

You think you might be a little in love with him.

‘C’mon, hurry up! It’s only a little further!’ he calls, and you nod, scrambling over the fallen trunk of an oak tree. There’s old spirits who live in this forest, he’d told you, and today you’re finally gonna see one.

It’s dark now. Cold too. You’re tired and hungry and you kinda want to go home, but Kohsuke won’t let you. ‘Just a little longer! Don’t you wanna see them?’

You do. Of course you do. It’s just that you’re starting to get a funny feeling in your stomach… Can he hear the footsteps too? Is somebody following you?

There’s a voice in your ear, a soft, silky purr that makes a shiver roll down your spine, but you can’t make sense of the words, they’re not in any language you understand. You don’t tell Kohsuke – he can’t hear it, otherwise he would have said something. You just clutch his hand tighter, skipping closer.

‘W-we should go back, Koh,’ you murmur, wincing when it comes out in a childish whine. ‘We’re gonna get in trouble.’

You aren’t supposed to stay out playing after dark, he knows it as well as you do. ‘You trust me, don’t you? Stop being such a chicken!’ he snickers as your cheeks heat.

The voice at your ear growls, low and threatening. You need to go back, now.

You blink, and the scene changes.

You’re curled up on the forest floor, hands covering your eyes. Somebody’s screaming – Kohsuke – crying out your name through ragged sobs, pleading–

There’s a crunch, a ripping sound, a wetness sprayed across your cheek. 

Kohsuke’s not screaming anymore.

Something warm and heavy touches your head, drags through the locks of your hair and you just huddle tighter, eyes squeezed shut, shaking like a leaf as more tears spill. You don’t wanna die here. 

The crunching sounds continue, and you keep your eyes tightly shut. It can’t hurt you if you don’t look. 

It can’t hurt you if you don’t look. 

It can’t hurt you if you don’t look. 

It can’t–

A loud knocking jerks you back to consciousness, your body jolting upright, almost swiping your laptop off the table as you try and gather your bearings. Right, you’d been working on your novel, sitting up at the kitchen table, you must have dozed off… A quick glance out the window tells you that you must have been out of it for a while – the late afternoon shadows are starting to creep in, the sky a golden orange. 

What the hell was that dream?!

“Hello? Uh, anybody home?” a masculine voice calls, another loud knock sounding. “We got a call about a wild animal attacking deer…”

Oh, you think, trying to shake yourself out of your stupor, the wildlife people, yeah. You feel a little nauseous, feverish and trembling, though maybe that’s just the result of your erratic heartbeat. 

Swallowing down the bile in your throat, you turn your attention to the door. Truly you hadn’t actually expected that they’d send anybody out to investigate, much less that they’d arrive before you left, but you can hardly turn him away now.

Especially not when there’s a freshly butchered deer corpse lying only a few feet away from your front door. Quickly, you run a hand over your hair, taking a moment to try and collect yourself before you answer.

It doesn’t work – there’s a knot in your throat and for every step you take towards the door it feels like your legs are gonna give out from under you. You move in a daze to unlock the door, only just remembering to school your features into an expression slightly less alarming as it swings open. 

A ranger, tall with a shock of black, messy hair that reminds you oddly of a rooster greets you with an easy grin. “Oh good, I was starting to think nobody was home. You the one that called?”

Distantly, you nod, fingers clutching at the edge of the doorframe. The ranger glances over at the remains of the deer, still lying in a pool of half dried blood, studying it for a moment, hazel eyes sweeping over the deep gashes in its side. You can’t bear to follow his gaze, you’re not sure you can look at that thing again without throwing up. 

He whistles lowly, shaking his head, “Well you don’t see that every day,” he laughs.

Your eyes snap to his, narrowing slightly. It’s not his fault, you know that, but you can’t help the flicker of irritation that sparks at the cavalier attitude. This is just his job, you get it, but you don’t exactly feel like laughing right now. 

“You still think a bear did this?” you retort, the words coming out a little sharper than intended. 

But the ranger takes it in stride, shrugging as his smirk widens. “A bear, huh?” Amusement glitters in his eyes, sharp and mocking. “Why don’t I come inside and you can tell me all about it?” he offers, stepping closer towards you. 

And there’s no reason for your heart to skitter, your blood running cold as he looms over you in the doorway, still wearing that stupid, irritating smirk. There’s no reason for your insides to clench either, or for the tiny, jerky step backwards you take, your body moving of its own accord.

The ranger pauses, head tilting to the side as he stares at you.

Really stares, like he’s waiting for something. And as discomfited as you are (and as much of an asshole as this guy is), a weary apology is halfway to your tongue when he shifts slightly, propping an arm up against the door – the last, dying rays of light catching his face. 

It’s just for a second.

A heartbeat.

But long enough for you to watch those hazel eyes shift to gold, pupils elongating into slits. 

You stumble backwards, breath coming in a short, ragged gasp as your eyes widen into saucers. “What are you?”

The ranger before you chuckles and you catch a glimpse of his teeth; pearly white and glinting, sharper than they had been only moments ago. “Why don’t you let me in and find out for yourself, kitten?”

You shake your head, retreating further into the cabin, heart pounding. 

“No? You don’t like this body, is that it?” he asks, a cruel edge to his smirk as he takes a half step backwards and slowly spreads his arms. “Something more familiar, then.”

And you don’t think there’s any room left in your heart for more fear, your stomach already twisting in sickening knots, but you blink and standing right there in front of you is Kohsuke.

It’s a punch in the guts, a knife slipped between your ribs, yanked ruthlessly through your still beating heart. He’s beaming up at you, those same adorable dimples, the same ridiculous bowl cut, bleeding youthful innocence. “How about now?” he asks, holding out his hand and wriggling his fingers like he expects you to take it. “You’ll let me inside now, right?”

A strangled noise escapes you as you fall to your knees. Tears fill your eyes, blurring your vision – you blink them away but more take their place. 

“You trust me, don’t you?” he asks, and you wail in response.

It’s too much. You shake your head, hugging yourself tightly, as if your arms are the only thing keeping you from falling apart entirely. 

He calls your name – not in Kohsuke’s childish lilt, but that deep, ancient purr that makes the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. “Let me in.”

“Go away,” you gasp through tears. “Please– please go away.”

The creature shifts again, the dark haired ranger back in Kohsuke’s place. He eyes you, those unnatural gold irises watching with utter enthralment as you sob pathetically on the floor, still pleading – though you know it’ll do you no good – for him to leave. 

“Last chance, kitten. Let me in, or I’ll make you come out.”

He – it – doesn’t sound nearly as put out by the prospect as it should be. 

And you don’t know why giving permission matters, all you know, all you care about, is that it’s keeping that thing at bay for now. It can’t come inside and so long as you don’t leave the safety of the cabin, it can’t hurt you. The words are nothing but an empty threat.

Right?

You shake your head, defiant even as your voice hitches and trembles, “No.”

“Stubborn little thing,” the creature croons, the smirk on its face widening until the visage no longer resembles anything human – mouth splitting its face in two, rows of long, sharp teeth revealed. “So be it.”

A low growl resonates in its chest, and you can only watch, petrified, as thin, vein-like black marks begin to appear over pale skin, growing thicker, cracking as shadow curls from underneath. The creature itself starts to grow too, limbs elongating as muscles ripple and swell, claws bursting forth in place of fingernails, shoulders broadening – until it’s towering over you, wreathed in thick shadow, grinning with that terrifying mouth. 

This is the thing you’d glimpsed that first night. A creature ripped from nightmares and primal fears, strong enough to tear you apart with a single hand. That’s what it’d done to Kohsuke, to the doe, what it’d do to you if you gave it half a chance.

“You wanna play, kitten?” it asks, head tilting to the side. 

Slowly, it backs away from the door, keeping its gaze fixed firmly on you. For a moment, you think that it’s going to disappear back into the forest, or plant itself by your window to watch for another night, waiting you out till dawn, but instead it stops by the old oak that overhangs the porch and stills entirely, simply… waiting.

“Let’s play.”

Abruptly, the oak beside it bursts into flames. It takes only a heartbeat for the entire thing to be engulfed, red and orange flames licking along the trunk, the gnarled, spindly branches, even the leaves are alight, burning away into ash and floating off in the breeze. The heat from one tree alone is searing, the crackle of burning wood and your own horrified, shuddering breath the only sounds in the night.

It snowed only a few nights before, but the fire spreads with unnatural ease, flames racing across the canopy, embers lighting up the undergrowth, and in the space of a few seconds there’s an inferno raging through the forest before you. And through the smoke and the red, burning haze, the creature watches, smirking.

The heat from the wildfire sears painfully at your skin, the air around you suddenly thick with smoke, stinging your eyes, choking your lungs, and yet you can’t seem to tear yourself away. It’s like a dream, a nightmare, some kind of… hellscape.

And for a moment you forget that there was a purpose to this, too lost staring in mute horror as the forest you’d played in as a child burns–

At least until a single leaf from the oak tree, edges curling as it’s consumed by flames, falls, carried by the breeze and lands on the wooden railing of the porch. With a soft whoosh, the old wooden beam catches fire, and with your chest heaving, panicked breaths falling from parted lips, you rise to your feet as flames spread, the fire eating everything in its path until the entire porch is alight, burning.

Run. 

You don’t know if the voice in your head is yours or not, you don’t have time to care. You scramble for the back door, throwing it open, and you run.

Run until your lungs burn, til’ your bare feet are scratched and bleeding, run, pushed forward by the sweltering heat at your back, the chilling crackle of laughter that follows. You run through tears, through pain and air so thick with smoke that it hurts to breathe.

And you know the creature’s giving chase, you know that you won’t – can’t – outrun it, nor the inferno that blazes around you. You know that it’s futile, that you’re probably running to your death, but that’s human, isn’t it?

To run when you’re scared?

The sky’s awash with a hazy red glow when it catches you, throwing you to the ground, and still you try to crawl. Desperate, choking on broken pleas and sobs, nails raking through the dirt as you try to pull yourself forward. 

And when your pants are ripped from your legs, a puff of warm air ghosting over the nape of your neck as you’re shoved back down, those long, black arms settling either side of you, caging you in – you know that you’ve lost.

“Mine,” the creature growls, and you barely have time to scream before its cock shoves into you with one brutal, merciless thrust. “Mine.”

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Long Lost Prince Part 2;

Merlin leads his people home and Arthur grapples with whether he should keep his feelings to himself or not.

Part 1

Just like Arthur promised, a portion of Camelot's army mixed with around fifty of Merlin's knights are marching towards the Dragonlands within a month.

Merlin and Arthur lead the way, Sir Thornway, Sir Leon, and Sir Mordred following closely behind. It was decided fairly quickly that Hunith and Gaius would stay in Camelot; they were desperate to get home, but they weren't fighters, and whilst the chance of attack was fairly low considering the army behind them and the two dragons circling ahead, Arthur and Merlin were unwilling to risk it.

At a quick pace, Arthur reckons they could've made the journey in a week, but the army is slow-moving, and it takes them almost three to reach the border. They don't hear a peep out of anyone as they move through the countryside, though Arthur does raise an amused eyebrow at Merlin every once in a while, as and when the Warlock chuckles at Kilgharrah whispering in his head about all the various pathetic mercenaries and bandits running away screaming at the sight of his silhouette against the clouds.

The Dragonland, in comparison to Camelot, was a very small kingdom, but it’s capital city was near the far border, backed by miles and miles of towering mountains. In one of the many sessions of reminiscing that Merlin, Thornway, and Kilgharrah have in the evenings, they discuss the mountains at length. They were mostly uninhabited by people, even before the purge, they were far too treacherous for those without a guide and strong magic, and even then the paths were still dangerous.

The great mountains were where the Dragon’s resided; in a network of twisting tunnels and great caverns carved with fire and magic. Merlin vaguely remembers being taken there a few weeks before... before they left. Thornway told him that retreating into the mountains was one of the back up plans, if Uther’s army was too big and there was no hope of escape through the countryside.

(Arthur frowned at that. He was frowning at a lot nowadays, but Merlin just squeezed his leg under the blanket they were sharing (Leon did NOT smirk and Arthur did NOT blush) and whispered, yet again, that he was not his father.)

The escape through the mountains was planned to be a last ditch effort though, even with the dragons leading them and their strongest sorcerers protecting them, the perilous paths, with their knife edge drops and loose rocks and harsh snow, would have taken too many casualties to count. Though, in the end, escaping through the countryside had been just as deadly.

Arthur also used the journey to think about what Leon had said. Though Merlin and The King stuck close by for the whole trek, conversation was sparse (though the silences were comfortable); Arthur was unsure how to bring up the inevitable change in their relationship, though he knows that, for his own peace of mind if nothing else, he should.

They were deep into the Kingdom, having passed all the now doubly abandoned outer villages (Arthur was right in thinking that two dragons and a marching army scared away all the various mercenary groups and bandits) and now only a day’s ride from the capital, that Arthur asked Merlin the question that had been plaguing his mind for weeks. The two of them were sat against a fallen log, the night flourishing around them. The silence over the rest of the camp was tense, the knowledge that they were close hanging in the air, but the silence between Merlin and Arthur was comfortable, peaceful:

“What are you planning on doing?”

Merlin took a noticeably deep breath and Arthur turned to him, trying desperately to keep the worried frown off his face:

“I don’t know. I didn’t really discuss it with ma, we just... wanted to get home, and work from there, see what happens I guess.”

Arthur nodded, gulping slightly before he responds:

“Do you think she wants the throne? Your mother? Or will you become King?”

Merlin chuckles, but Arthur clenches his hands and looks away at the humourless lilt the noise has:

“I’d love to see her back in her crown, on her throne, but it’s been a long time. She did everything with my father by her side, I don’t know if... if she would want to do it on her own. I don’t know that she would cope.-”

The Warlock turns to face Arthur, and it strikes The King how close they are when he can feel Merlin’s breath on his cheek. He turns to meet his gaze once more:

“-What would you do, Arthur? In my place?”

Arthur can only hold his stare for a few moments before he looks to his lap, shaking his head slightly:

“I don’t know, Merlin. Tell me what’s on your mind, I... I can’t promise that I’ll have the answers, but maybe saying things out-loud will help.”

Merlin nods as he shuffles in his spot slightly, and Arthur likes to think that he was moving closer:

“I... I’m desperate to get home. But at the same time, I waited. I waited for twenty years, I’ve built myself a life in Camelot, I’d... given up on ever returning home, and I was just about coming to terms with the fact that Camelot was my home now. And then... this. I have to lead my people back, I know that, I owe it to them, it’s my job to protect them and give them back their heritage-”

Arthur interrupts quietly:

“Your heritage.”

Merlin sighs:

“-yeah, my heritage. My mother, and Gaius, and my people, and... and I, we deserve to go home. But I was only six when we left, I never got all the lessons on how to be a Politician, a King. Yes, I’m the heir, yes, I remember home and the crown and being a little Prince, but I am not built to be a King, Arthur, I don’t want to- I can’t fail my people, but I fear I will. I... I’ve been putting up a brave front for my mum, for Thornway, but I’m terrified. I have no idea what I’m doing, Arthur. What if I mess up?”

Arthur allows a small smile to slip onto his face as he takes Merlin’s fidgeting hands in his own. He shakes his head as he huffs out a short laugh and Merlin looks at him incredulously:

“You couldn’t possibly, Merlin. I know you well, do I not?-”

Merlin nods his head vigorously:

“Better than anyone.”

Arthur fights the blush:

“-And I’m telling you, that you have nothing to worry about. You may not have had official lessons, but you have the mind for politics.-”

Arthur glances to his lap briefly as he takes a fortifying breath, stroking his thumbs over the back of Merlin’s hands, still clutched in his, and looking up to him again:

“-I had all those lessons. All that training, and practicing, and tutoring. But I was still so... lost when I became King. I don’t think I ever told you, Merlin, but the only thing that got me through was you, always by my side. Because I knew that you would never let me fail, because I trusted you to see my shortcomings and make up for them without fuss, without fault. And you did, without asking for any thanks, or recognition, like you do with everything. To this day, you think I’m a good King because of destiny, but that’s utter bollocks and I’ve always known it. I’m a good King, Merlin, because you made me a good man first. And on days when I doubt my own rule, I remind myself of how much faith you have in me, and it gives me strength, because I know you would never allow me to fail, and on the off chance I fall, I know you would catch me. Every good King who cares about his people has doubts, Merlin, but however much faith you have in me? I have the same amount, if not more, in you. You’ll do just fine.”

Merlin looks at him with wide, teary eyes, and Arthur flushes under the scrutiny. The King goes to say something, maybe a flippant joke to de-charge the atmosphere, but before he can utter even a word, Merlin throws himself at him, wrapping tight arms around his shoulders and burying his face in his neck. Arthur almost falls back, but he holds steady, chuckling slightly as he returns Merlin’s hug with equal intensity. Merlin’s muffled voice from his shoulder has Arthur tightening his grip:

“Will you catch me? If I fall?”

Arthur moves a hand up to cradle the back of Merlin’s head:

“You won’t fall. But I’d spend the rest of my life stood below you with my arms out ready, Merlin, if that gave you just a fraction of the belief in yourself that you should have.”

Neither pulled away for what felt like hours, and by the time Thornway wondered over to check on them, they had fallen asleep against the log, arms still firmly wrapped around each other.

He smiles mournfully as he drapes a blanket over them. You would have to be blind to miss the odd moroseness that had overtaken them both, and the old knight knew that his Prince was dreading having to leave Arthur, and that Arthur was dreading the same. They shuffle in their sleep, and Thornway freezes, worried that he had woken them, but when Arthur just mutters Merlin’s name and moves impossibly closer to the other man Thornway sighs. This is going to be... painful for the two of them, and he’s not quite sure how he can help.

~

After another day of travel, they find themselves moving through the capital city, towards the castle sitting at the foot of the mountains.

The army was left with orders to methodically clear the city whilst Arthur, Leon, Thornway, and Mordred headed straight for the citadel gates. Though the city had fallen into disrepair, the castle looked like it had barely been touched, even by the elements, and Thornway explained that powerful enchantments laid over the ancient building, preventing it from being invaded or damaged by even the strongest of armies:

“It was meant to be a stronghold, somewhere we could hide and keep our people safe in emergencies, but we knew if we did that we would have backed ourselves into a corner. Uther was taking over more and more of the city every day, if we locked ourselves in... we would have just starved. Trying to escape through the city and out into the wilderness was our only hope.”

Merlin nods absent-mindedly as he stares up at the main door:

“Can we even get in?”

His voice is quiet and shaky, and Mordred steps forward to put a hand on his shoulder as Thornway replies with a small smile:

“You’re the heir, the doors will always open for you, Little Falcon.”

Merlin replies with a weak smirk and flushed cheeks:

“You know, I’m not all that little anymore.”

Thornway barks out a laugh as he shakes his head slightly, ruffling Merlin’s hair as the younger man pouts:

“Well, you’ll always be littler than me.-”

Merlin goes to retort, but before he can, his knight steps back and gestures to the great doors in front of them:

“-Go on, it’s time for us to finally come home, I think.”

Merlin gulps and nods, and Mordred lets his hand fall back to his side as the older Warlock takes the steps two at a time, hesitating only slightly before he wraps his hand around one of the doors’ metal rings. It twists easily in his grip, and the door swings open. Merlin has to take a step back and cover his mouth with his sleeve as he coughs, the billowing clouds of dust being disturbed for the first time in two decades making it almost impossible to see into the dark hall.

It settles after a few moments and Merlin takes a deep breath, reaching behind him wordlessly and relaxing only when he feels Arthur take his hand. The blonde King gives his hand a comforting squeeze, and Merlin takes his first shaking steps across the threshold.

He walks through the dark corridors slowly, one hand tightly clenched in Arthur’s, the other trailing along the wall next to him. The rest of the group is silent as they follow him, and nothing can be heard bar their muffled steps over the dusty rugs, and the deep breathing of Merlin and Thornway.

Merlin seems to know where he’s going, so no one questions the corners he turns and the rooms he passes without second thought. The deeper into the castle they get, the darker it becomes, until finally Merlin stops, a long hall stretched out in front of him. His eyes flash gold and the torches lining the walls flare up, illuminating the corridor in golden light. Arthur turns to look at the Warlock beside him, empathetic tears gathering in his eyes as he sees tracks on Merlin’s cheeks. 

Merlin turns to glance at Thornway, whose in a similar state, before closing his eyes and flattening his free hand against the wall, digging his fingertips into the cracks as his voice comes out quiet and raspy:

“I know these halls, this stone.-”

Thornway takes a deep stuttering breath, muttering Merlin’s name. Merlin steps away from the wall, looking back to his knight with a weak, teary smile:

“-Do you remember? Chambers filled with golden light, vast halls bustling with people and dragons and magic?”

Thornway gulps and nods, slowly moving towards Merlin and putting a hand on his shoulder:

“I remember.-”

He nods down the corridor, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat before asking:

“-You remember what’s down there?”

Merlin smiles and nods, squeezing Arthur’s hand and leading the group down the hall, obviously impatient to get to wherever their destination is, but unwilling to walk any quicker.

Leon and Arthur share a confused and slightly concerned look but don’t say anything, allowing Merlin and Thornway to lead the way. Once again, Merlin hesitates only slightly before pushing the door at the end of the corridor open. and the six of them gather inside the immense chamber. Like the rest of the castle, it was dusty, but untouched; unlike the rest of the castle, it was bathed in colourful light. The walls were high, the ceiling obviously stretching far above the surrounding rooms, and the afternoon sun shone brightly through giant stained glass windows. 

Reds and blues and greens and every other colour imaginable were splashed across the stone floor, painting pictures of dragons and flowers and family, but everyone’s eyes skip over the colourful artwork, instead being drawn to the two golden thrones sat on a dais at the other end of the hall. Merlin lets go of Arthur’s hand, walking towards the thrones with wide eyes as the others stay back, watching with a mix of pride and grief. Thornway follows after a few moments and Leon has to put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, shaking his head slightly when the King looks at him. Arthur clenches his hands and looks away, but stays by the door, wanting more than anything to be with Merlin through this but also understanding that it wasn’t his place.

Merlin finally reaches the thrones.

He wipes the thick dust from the armrests with shaking, but reverent hands before sitting down on the steps, slightly to the side of the golden seats. He runs his fingertips over the stone, remembering every bump and crack and texture, and Thornway stands behind him, in line with the thrones, putting a hand on his shoulder and muttering:

“Now this brings back memories.”

Merlin nods, looking up at him, tears no longer flowing, but still gathering in his eyes:

“I... I don’t remember much, but I still... know. I know this is where I sat, with you behind me, ma and dad next to me on their thrones. I remember dad promising that when I was older, they’d have a throne made for me, so I could sit with them.”

Thornway nods, slowly moving to sit beside him, ignoring the creaking in his bones as he lets his weight fall onto the stone steps:

“Hmm. foreign royalty and dignitaries thought it odd that the King and Queen let you sit in on meetings, even as a young child, but they were always adamant; they didn’t want to hide you away. You were always safe, of course, but they wanted you exposed to the people and the people exposed to you. I suppose they wanted to nurture a natural love and protectiveness of your people in you; how could they expect you to serve the Kingdom well if you were only doing so out of duty, and not genuine love?”

Merlin hums thoughtfully before smiling briefly up at Arthur, still stood on the other side of the room. When Arthur tentatively returns the smile, despite not hearing the hushed conversation, Merlin looks to Thornway next to him, bumping shoulders with a short giggle:

“Probably why I’ve always been so disrespectful to Arthur, everyone in here was equal, no matter what. I guess that’s why the treatment of servants and commoners was such a shock when I moved to Camelot, I don’t really remember much of home, but it definitely felt different.”

Thornway nods as Merlin stands, holding out a hand to the knight and pulling him to his feet. Merlin’s gaze moves around the room, though he stays rooted to the spot, and Thornway asks his question quietly:

“What do you want to do? Do you want to finish clearing the castle and the city first, or fetch your mother and uncle first?”

Merlin gulps before taking a deep breath, staring at the floor and saying in a small voice:

“I don’t know... what do you think I should do?”

Thornway chuckles and shakes his head:

“This is your decision, Little Falcon. You are the Crown Prince, this is your Kingdom, your city, your people, trust your instincts. What should be done?”

Merlin looks to Arthur once again, reminding himself of the King’s promise to catch him should he fall, before looking back at Thornway with a determined expression:

“Send Kilgharrah to fetch ma and Gaius. We no longer need him as a deterrent, and we’ll still have Aithusa. He can make the journey to Camelot and back in a week at most, knights, even on horseback, will take at least twice that. It’s been a while since either of them went flying, but they’ll remember soon enough, and I trust Kilgharrah to keep them safe. We can keep clearing the city and start rough plans for rebuilding whilst we wait.”

Thornway grins and nods proudly:

“Exactly what I would have suggested. See? You’ll be just fine.-”

Merlin returns his grin shyly, blushing slightly as he rubs the back of his neck. Thornway rolls his eyes good-naturedly before gesturing to the others:

“-Come, My Lord, we should let the others know and head out to send Kilgharrah off as soon as possible.”

Merlin pushes the older knight’s shoulder playfully at the use of a title, but Thornway just smirks and waves Merlin ahead of him.

~

Arthur, Leon, and Mordred were told of the plan as the group made their way out of the castle again, having to cover their eyes when they step into the bright sunlight. They all smiled fondly as they saw Merlin’s growing confidence, though Arthur had to stamp down the growing anxiety swirling in his stomach; he refused to be sad for himself.

Kilgharrah was flying back towards Camelot within the hour, and Merlin was separating the army into groups and assigning tasks with a strong voice and straight back, taking every question and suggestion in his stride and organising hundreds of people without issue.

Arthur knew that there was still a conversation to be had between himself and Merlin, though with every day that passed he questioned whether it was the right thing to do. He wasn’t oblivious enough not to notice the way Merlin always asked for his council, even when he didn’t need it, always searched for his eyes in the crowd when he addressed his people, but that didn’t mean that his... affections, were returned.

Everyone, even Thornway now, kept shooting him pitying looks, and he figured out fairly quickly that he wasn’t as subtle as he’d like to believe. Leon was the only one he could rely on to convincingly pretend nothing was wrong, and Arthur used that to back up his deliberate ignoring of his stupid emotions.

Six days had passed and the clearing of debris from the lower town was well on its way when Kilgharrah landed in the castle courtyard, his two passengers tense and teary. Only Hunith, Gaius, Merlin, and Thornway took the journey through the castle this time; the others continued to help with the work in the town, not quite feeling that they would be welcome on the emotional tour.

Hunith decided fairly quickly that she would move on to become Queen Mother. Merlin would be crowned King (though he put his foot down and insisted that it wouldn’t happen until everything was properly sorted, and the people were settled back in the city), and though Hunith would still be the most senior of the royals, Merlin would technically have the most power. 

Arthur had mixed feelings about that. 

As King, Merlin would be a lot busier, would have a lot more responsibilities, but equally, he would have much more control over the use of his time; somehow making it both harder and easier to organise visits between the two of them. Though Arthur, of course, didn’t mention such feelings, just pulled Merlin into another tight hug and congratulated him with a grin.

With the help of Merlin and Mordred’s magic, and the few sorcerers scattered throughout the army they had brought, clearing the town of debris and rebuilding what they could with whatever was left went fairly quickly. Soon enough, the blacksmith’s and an infirmary were up and running, and the farms were ready for work to commence, just as soon as the resources from Camelot arrived.

The castle, whilst it had been fully explored by Merlin, Hunith, Thornway, and Gaius, had yet to be opened up to others or cleaned properly, but no one mentioned it. The gang slept happily in homes rebuilt in the upper town, and accepted Merlin’s excuse of wanting to focus on the people’s infrastructure first.

It was a week or so after Hunith and Gaius had arrived, Kilgharrah and Aithusa had disappeared into the mountains with Merlin’s approval, and Arthur once again found Merlin stood in the otherwise empty, still dusty throne room, staring at the golden seats with his hands in his pockets and his face tense.

Years ago, Arthur would’ve been wrong in his assumption that Merlin hadn’t heard him approach, but just this once he knows that he’s right. Arthur had slowly become an expert on picking up Merlin’s ticks, and even in the low light of the evening the blonde could tell that Merlin had no clue he was there.

Arthur didn’t want to feel like he was intruding, so cleared his throat quietly, only walking closer to the other man when his head whipped around, smiling slightly when he saw it was just Arthur.

Arthur stepped up next to him, and they both stared at the thrones in silence, shoulders brushing ever so slightly. Everything had been so busy in recent weeks that, other than the conversation two weeks earlier, Arthur and Merlin had spent barely any time together, just the two of them; every other time Arthur had found Merlin alone in the throne room he had shut the door quietly behind him and left, too afraid to intrude, not quite ready to start a conversation. The conversation.

After a few minutes, he clears his throat again and speaks in a quiet voice, not looking to the Warlock next to him:

“What’s on your mind?”

Merlin responds almost immediately, but like Arthur, he speaks quietly and doesn’t move his gaze from the thrones:

“Nothing, everything. I’m... doing ok, I think.-”

Arthur nods with a small smile, but Merlin continues before he can say anything:

“-But I’m scared that I’m only doing well because you’re here. You have to go back to Camelot eventually and... it sounds stupid, but I... I don’t want you to go. I need you, Arthur.”

Arthur gulps, finally looking to Merlin’s sorrowful face, though the other man refuses to meet his gaze. He takes his hands out of his pockets, fiddling with them roughly, rubbing his knuckles together and scratching his palms harshly. Arthur clenches his jaw, taking one of Merlin’s hands in his own gently and running soothing fingers over the younger man’s callouses:

“I know what you mean.-”

Merlin looks to him in surprise, his eyes widening, and Arthur continues with a small smile:

“-I told you, Merlin, I’m only a good King because of you. I’ve never had to rule on my own before and I’m dreading going back to Camelot without you.-”

Merlin shakes his head roughly, but Arthur continues once again, before he can disagree:

“-No, Merlin, don’t argue, it’s true. I... I need you as well, I don’t want to be without you, and I’ve no clue how I’m going to cope with a week’s ride between us. Leon tried talking some sense into me back in Camelot, and I know he was right, that all relationships take effort and we’ll have to work incredibly hard to stay in each other’s lives in any significant capacity, and I’m absolutely willing to do anything to keep you close, if not physically then... otherwise, but I’m still...-”

Arthur sighs and looks away, his cheeks just a little bit pink as he continues quietly:

“-I’m still scared to be without you.”

Merlin gulps and squeezes Arthur’s hand in his own, waiting for the blonde to finally look up at him again. The Warlock smiles at the eye contact and Arthur returns it weakly as Merlin finally replies:

“The last ten years of my life have revolved around you, completely and utterly, and I know it’s selfish of me to... not want that to change. I know I’m staying here, with my people, as their King. I would never consider abandoning them, not really, but I desperately want to, just so I can stay with you. We... we’ll figure something out, find some way to communicate quickly. I’m magic incarnate, there has to be a way, I... I’ll make a way, if I have to.”

The tears in Arthur’s eyes finally overflow at Merlin’s determined tone, but before the other man can say anything about it, Arthur pulls him into a tight hug, clutching his cloak in shaking fingers and burying his face in his shoulder, for once feeling grateful for the extra inch in height that Merlin has on him. Merlin returns the hug without hesitation, closing his eyes against the tears, though not managing to stop them from falling as he quietly speaks, his voice thick:

“I promised that I would stay with you until the day I died, but I... I have to leave, I... I can’t-”

Arthur tightens the hug as he interrupts him:

“No, Merlin, you owe me nothing, you don’t have to explain. You’ve already given me my kingdom, now it’s my chance to return the favour. I would never ever ask you to leave this behind just for me.”

Arthur can feel Merlin’s body shaking with silent sobs, and he runs a hand through his hair softly, breathing deeply in an effort to hold in his own bawling. 

They stand wrapped in each other for a while, neither willing to let go even when their tears dry up and their breathing evens out. Eventually Merlin rasps out a whispered:

“I don’t want to lose you.”

Arthur pulls back at long last, but doesn’t go far, leaning his forehead against Merlin’s and closing his eyes before replying:

“You won’t. We’ll take turns hosting Yule celebrations, and I can visit on your birthday, and there’ll be tournaments of course, and trade routes, and shared patrols near the border. I refuse to let you slip from my grasp, Merlin, you’ll never be without me, not for long anyway.”

Merlin huffs out a gentle laugh, and Arthur thinks the flutter of his breath over his cheeks and through his eyelashes is the most beautiful thing he’s ever felt. Both of them open their eyes, but they don’t move away from each other, even as they stare, becoming increasingly aware of the very little amount of space between them. Arthur’s brows crease slightly but he ignores the concerned question in Merlin’s eyes, instead lifting a hand to gently cup his jaw, gulping as Merlin’s expression falls into a soft smile.

The King takes a deep breath as he summons his courage, eyes filling with tears again as he clears his throat, whispering so quietly that it’s a miracle Merlin hears him, even with only inches between them:

“Merlin, I... you mean a great deal to... I mean I... -”

He cuts himself off with a quiet huff, and Merlin smirks at the slight blush dusting his cheeks, patiently waiting for him to continue. Arthur shuts his eyes tightly, taking another deep breath before opening them with a newfound determination. He meant it, he’d come this far, he was not going to let Merlin slip away:

“I love you, you are the single most important person in my life, and I would go to the ends of this world just to see you smile. I owe you my life, and so much more than that; you’ve been making promises and swearing oaths to my crown for years-”

Merlin interrupts him quietly:

“To you, to Arthur, not the crown, to you.”

Arthur huffs slightly and rolls his eyes:

“I’m trying to confess my undying love here Merlin, and I’m not very good with this whole... expressing shit, so shut up and let me finish.-”

Merlin snorts but stays otherwise silent, raising an eyebrow to prompt Arthur to continue:

“-Like I was saying. You’ve been swearing things for years, and now it’s my turn.-”

Arthur steps back, taking Merlin’s hands tightly in his own as he lowers himself to one knee, pressing his forehead to the Warlock’s knuckles:

“-I swear on my crown and in the name of Camelot, that I will always love you, that I will always be ready catch you, and that I will never stop putting the work in to make sure I don’t lose you, that you don’t lose me.”

The blonde can hear Merlin’s stuttered breathe and barely has time to process Merlin’s whispered-

“I accept your oath.”

-before he’s being pulled to his feet and urgently kissed.

One of Merlin’s hands settles on the side of Arthur’s neck and the other grips his hip. Arthur’s arms flail for only a moment in his shock before he moves to clutch Merlin’s collar tightly, closing his eyes and kissing back, pushing as much of his devotion into the action as possible and wanting nothing more than to sooth the stress-induced bite marks on Merlin’s lips.

They pull back far too soon, as far as both of them are concerned, once again resting their foreheads against each other as they catch their breath. Arthur’s face slowly morphs into a grin as he says:

“And to think I was stressing over whether I should tell you for weeks.”

Merlin rolls his eyes in response, snorting in amusement as he admits, much to Arthur’s chagrin:

“Believe me, I already knew, you weren’t very subtle. You’ve been sulking.”

Arthur lets out an incredulous huff and pulls back, still holding Merlin’s collar but staring at Merlin’s amused raised eyebrow with wide eyes:

“I am a King, Merlin, I do not sulk.”

Merlin chuckles:

“Well so am I, and yes you do.”

Arthur narrows his eyes slightly:

“Not yet you’re not. That’s besides the point, if you knew... why didn’t you say anything?”

Merlin’ face falls slightly, and if Arthur had to guess, he’d say that Merlin looked a little guilty. The blonde furrowed his brows but pulls his Warlock close again, stroking his jaw softly with his thumb as he waits for an answer:

“I... I love you, Arthur, more than anything, but... I wanted see if you would do anything about it. I knew I would do anything for you, but I needed... I needed to know if you thought I was worth the distance, the effort. If I said something first, I never would have known... I would always be second guessing if you were about to... to break it off, because you didn’t want to put in the frankly ridiculous amount of effort it’s going to take to keep things... good.”

Arthur smiles and shakes his head disbelievingly, landing a quick kiss to the tip of Merlin’s nose and smirking at the way his face scrunches in response:

“Well, now you do know. I will do anything, everything, to keep you happy and safe and loved. You will always be in my heart, if not by my side.”

Merlin smiles, and the two of them resolutely ignore the tears gathering in their eyes as he whispers his reply:

“As will I. I’ll talk to the Druids, Kilgharrah, Thornway, I’m sure we��ll be able to figure out some magical way to communicate.”

Arthur just smiles and nods, taking Merlin’s hands in his own once more:

“Ready to head to sleep? It’s late, and I know you’re tired.”

Merlin takes a deep breath, glancing to the thrones before walking towards the door, keeping Arthur’s hand securely in his:

“Yeah. Though unless we sneak past the others I doubt we’ll get to sleep for a while. Morgana’s been speaking to me in my head and teasing me for weeks and my mum keeps hinting at how politically beneficial a marriage between the kingdoms would be.”

Arthur doesn’t even try to hide his snort, but nods in agreement and squeezes Merlin’s hand, following him out into the star-lit evening with a newfound enthusiasm to see what the future will bring.

~

THE END OF PART 2!!!

I think I’ll write one more reeeaally short part, a ten years later sort of thing, just because I have a few more ideas about this, but no real huge plot points, just cute little things I want to add in but haven’t found space for yet.

This took a little longer than I expected to come out, but I hope y’all enjoyed it!!

(and yes, I may have taken a little inspiration from The Hobbit movies, sue me (pls don’t, I’m kidding))

[whumperooni]

God at this point ill give you both an arm and a leg just to see more about katsuki forcefully marrying and fucking todoroki! reader stupid till she's his sweet stupid cum dump wife

m-maybe at some point ;u;

i have so many things i wanna write, but I definitely want to flesh this out more at some point!

Let’s ramble under the cut a lil though. Just for fun ♡

The whole is a mess. 

Natsuo is so worried when he finds out and Shoto is absolutely fucking furious- he knows how bad Katsuki is, knows just how timid and weak his little sister is.

He knows how it will turn out.

Rei is, of course, distraught but there’s absolutely nothing she can do. Fuyumi is quietly panicked but she’s too weak and desperate to hold the family together to protest.

There’s no preventing and it’s all done up so neatly- a marriage contract, a tiny wedding complete with a weeping bride, a fistfight between Shoto and Katsuki, and Enji’s hand gripping his daughter’s arm tight enough to leave bruises so she can’t just run away like she so desperately wants to.

The honeymoon is no better. Katsuki at least has the sense to whisk her off to somewhere nice, somewhere private. A small island, a beautiful cottage secluded away where no one can hear her screams and cries- it’d be so lovely if it weren’t for the way he demands she strips down as soon as they enter their home for the week. It would be perfect if it weren’t for how roughly he throws her onto the bed, the way his teeth set into such a greedy grin as he ignores her tears and pleas to take it slow, that it’s her first time and please be gentle.

The sex is more like rutting- animalistic, feral. She’ll come but it won’t be by her own free will and no amount of scrubbing between her thighs after will allow her to feel clean and good again.

The whole week is sex, sex, and more sex. Coupled with flinches whenever his temper explodes, shaking hands as she tries to make him breakfast, whimpers that she can’t hide whenever his voice gets a little too loud.

Sometimes, maybe, he’ll just hold her close- big arms wrapped around her trembling form and hugging her close to his chest, his whole body so warm as he silently runs his hands over her stomach, sighs with something that’s almost content.

Those times breed a tiny hope that maybe it won’t be so bad, that she can survive this and be okay.

That just makes it worse later when he turns broody and snarling, rough and so very vicious.

Back home, everyone will be so excited about Dynamight and his new bride. So many articles about her, the marriage. So many people interested to catch a glimpse of her, to talk about the way the man is shaping up to be such an exquisite hero- how he’s so reminiscent of her father.

It’ll remind her of her mother and the way she stood so quiet at her father’s side while growing up, how she had always felt sad when looking at her mother.

Once home, a routine will quickly settle. He goes to work and she stays home. Her job is to keep the house spotless, to have dinner waiting on the table by the time he comes home, to do the laundry and fold it and put it away neatly, to keep her legs open and her mouth shut.

Her biggest job, though, is to get pregnant.

Katsuki is a perfectionist. Her diet will consist of everything meant to make her more fertile- whether it works or not. Somewhere, he might read that stress is bad for babies and that it could make conceiving harder- so he has to force her into something content.

And forced means forced- whether she knows it or not.

So that means careful spoiling- not too much, not too little. Rewards for good behavior will start to crop up- money pressed into her hand and a grumble to go shopping, allowing her to visit her family, a small gift, some kisses pressed to her cheek that don’t lead to his teeth tearing into her soft neck, and sometimes- sometimes- eating her out until she’s shaking, letting her fall limp against him after and drift off to sleep without him ravaging her.

It’s careful, calculated. Is it in his nature? No. But he can work out the way it grates at him by being a little too rough with villains, by going harder at the gym.

And slowly, slowly she might begin to relax just a little. It’s not too bad being married too him. He’s still violent, he stills fucks her so hard she aches for days after, he stills yells at her and makes her cry whenever she doesn’t meet his impossible standards and is acting like a “shitty woman.”

But, she relaxes. Relaxes enough that she can enjoy the sex a little. Relaxes enough that sometimes she starts to want him- that sometimes she’s eager for him to come home.

And that’s when he’ll start to rile her up before he heads off to work. That’s when he’ll leave her on the edge of orgasm and flustered throughout the day. Leave her unsatisfied and desperate for him even if it makes her feel so ashamed.

Denial starts to be a common theme. No, he’s not going to fuck her- he’s had a long day and he’s fucking tired. No, he’s not going to come home- he has a dinner with Endeavor to talk business. No, he doesn’t have time to stay “just a little longer”- he has villains to crush.

And it’s so calculated- even if he’s throbbing and so hard it has his hackles rising he denies her.

Just to make her desperate.

Just to make her fall into something needy.

She starts instigating sex- pressing against him whenever he comes home and pressing her mouth to his with a tiny whimper, waking him up with her mouth around his cock, wearing lowcut dresses and tight skirts just to try to get him to fuck her.

And the sex becomes good, better. Still rough. Still possessive. But finally getting the orgasms she craves makes it better, leaves her begging for more and mewling instead of crying and pleading no, please stop.

He’ll fuck her, fill her up to the very brim and past it. Rumble in her ear after about how she’s going to give him a baby, has her nodding her head- cumdrunk and sleepy, soft in his arms.

And in those moments, it might all seem okay- the marriage, his hunger for success, the way his hands are always so rough and his voice is always so angry.

The thought of a baby seems okay in those moments.

And, maybe, all her sadness is her fault. She could be a better wife to him. She could be sweeter. Of course he’ll be angry and frustrated if she’s always just a sad, teary, moping thing. It’s her fault.

She can be better. She can be better for her husband.

It’s what he deserves, right?

And maybe a baby will make everything alright. Maybe Katsuki is right- maybe that’s just what they need.

She can give him a baby. She can be good.

A baby- a baby will make everything better.

And it’s so hard not to feel that way when his cock is buried inside of her, when she’s coming and being filled with his seed and her brain is going dumb, her mind is going blank.

Weak, stupid, desperate- she won’t even realize the way he’s training her to bend to his will without any fuss, without any of those tears that had plagued her before.

[dameronology]

love in a time of p.t.a meetings {marcus moreno}

one shot #3 - 4am

summary: you’re used to it just being you & your kid, and you’re even more used to taking on the world on your own when it gets hard - so, it’s difficult to let marcus in, even when he wants to help {series masterlist}

warnings: parenting themes, very brief mentions of loss, probably the nearest thing you’ll ever get to angst in this series and it’s not even angst 

sorry about the huge gaps between the one shots!! life is v hectic at the moment and i am running around like a headless chicken 24/7. what a vibe. enjoy :) 

- jazz xx

Things had been going smoothly - too smoothly. 

That meant it was only a matter of time before your mini demon child decided to kick up a fuss and do something completely, irretrievably wild. He’d done it before - there had been the fire incident, the shaving the dog incident, the you can’t re-enact the final scene from Revenge of the Sith with pencils incident. You’d taken them all in your stride and tried to learn from them; what else could you do, other than roll with the punches in life? Nobody was born knowing how to parent and you had to constantly remind yourself that. 

But this? This was fucking exhausting. Jack’s sudden refusal to sleep was absolutely kicking the life out of you. And even though he seemed to enjoy living in the Moreno house, you couldn’t help but feel your big move had been something to do with it. You were plagued with guilt at the thought of ripping him away from his childhood home, despite the fact he’d been excited to live with Marcus and Missy. You knew it was all in your head but still, his sudden misbehaviour was really bad for your guilty conscience. It was one thing having your parenting questioned by the minivan mums on the playground but something else entirely when it came from your own mind. 

‘Jack, please!’ You reached out for him, pulling him off his bed and forcing him to lay down. ‘It is 4am. Go to sleep!’

‘No!’ He thwacked your arms away. ‘I don’t want to!’

This was the fifth night in the row that he had refused to sleep. Whether it was loudly banging on the walls or playing Life Is a Highway at full volume from his iPad, the little human had taken it upon himself to deprive the entire family of sleep. Normally, you could have handled it (just about, at least) - but work had been beyond busy and with the loss of an elderly family member, everything was beginning to pile up on your shoulders.

‘I cannot do this tonight!’ You tried to suppress your frustration. ‘Jack, please.’

You didn’t want to cry. They weren’t even tears of sadness, more tears of frustration. Frustration that you couldn’t seem to get through to your own kid, and frustration that he wouldn’t listen. You were sleep deprived as fuck and it was out of your control. The temptation to wave your white flag and let Jack have what he wanted was almost overwhelming. 

‘I don’t want to sleep!’ He yelled. ‘I don’t have to do as you say!’

‘Fine!’ You flapped your hands in the air. ‘I’m done, Jack. Do whatever the hell you want.’

Tossing the stormtrooper you were holding to the floor, you turned your back and stalked out the room, shutting it behind you. 

Your back hit the wood with a thud as you slid down it, the formidable pressure on your shoulders finally prolapsing. You rested your head in your hands, letting out a silent cry. Fuck, you hadn’t cried in ages. Most of the time, you were immune to the absolute craziness that came with your child, but you just needed a break. It had just been you and him for so long that you were used to handling it all on your own and you hadn’t had a day off since he was born. Even when his dad had been in the picture, you’d still practically been a single parent. Doing it on your own was all you ever knew. 

You hadn’t even realised that Marcus had come to sit beside you; not until you felt a warm pair of hands on your shoulders, and the softness of his pyjama shirt against you. For a man who had been losing as much sleep as you and running a superhero team, he was surprisingly with it. His ability to hold his shit together was astounding. 

‘I am so sorry.’ You murmured. ‘His behaviour has been bad but not this bad.’

‘You don’t have to apologise, sweetheart.’ He replied. ‘Kids are stubborn as hell.’

‘It’s not even that.’ You sniffed. ‘It’s just that he won’t listen. And I’m the one person he should fucking listen to.’

‘You don’t have to have the solution to everything.’ Marcus reminded you. He gently wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb. 

‘What if it’s my fault?’ You leant further against his side. ‘What if me uprooting him from the apartment messed him up?’

‘No decision as a parent is easy.’ He said. ‘Especially not ones like that, but you did what’s best for you and him and that’s all you can do. It’s a lot of change for you both but it was the right choice, I promise you.’

‘Maybe.’ You murmured. ‘It’s just...I’ve always been his only parent. Like I am single-handedly responsible for the way he turns out and I do not want to accidentally screw up.’

Marcus softly chuckled. ‘It’s gonna take a lot more than you moving house for him to be a screw up - besides, I’m here to help now too.’

You peered up at him. ‘You don’t have to deal with his shit.’

‘Maybe I want to.’

‘Yeah, but you don’t have to.’

He thinned his eyes at you. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Nothing.’

Marcus moved his arms from you, shuffling around so that you were facing each other. He had a way of holding your gaze that nobody else quite managed; even his brown eyes were tired from exhaustion, he still managed to look right into your fucking soul. Maybe it was part of his job, or maybe he just saw through your bullshit. 

‘Please don’t shut me out.’

You let out a small sigh. ‘I don’t want you to feel like you have to get involved with my kid’s crazy shit. You had a peaceful life before this and-’

‘- I’m not gonna do what his dad did.’ Marcus suddenly cut you off. You could only blink in surprise. ‘I know that’s not you’re saying but it is what you’re saying.’

You’d got got pretty good at your little juggling act over the last five years; it was like you had three balls - Jack, work and everything else the universe had to throw at you. And maybe you weren’t just juggling, but you were doing it on a unicycle. Sometimes it felt like you were going to lose your balance and drop everything, but you’d managed it this far. The idea that Marcus wanted to help you and actually, genuinely had your best interests at heart was an alien idea. You were used to doing everything on your own. 

‘I’m sorry.’ You murmured. ‘We were let down and it’s gonna take time to heal. That’s on me.’

‘No, it’s not.’ Marcus took your hands in his. ‘We’re a family, okay? Nothing is ever going to change that now.’

You gave him a watery smile. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’ 

He stood up, pulling you up with him. 

The fact that not even Marcus and his unusual talents to get your child to behave were working was a testament to Jack’s rough patch. He was normally obedient as hell when it came to listening to him - probably because he was a superhero, you figured. Either way, you both just wanted to sleep. 

Marcus slowly creaked open the door - the sounds of Jack jumping up and down on his bed had stopped, but the godforsaken song from Cars was still blaring in the background. You peered over his shoulder on your tiptoes, trying to get a view at what was going on. By some miracle, the child was now passed out in the middle of the floor. Five nights of no sleep had finally caught up with him, in the same way they were about to catch up with you. 

You gently crept inside and tugged his iPad from his hands, giving him a soft kiss on the forehead. If you moved him from the rug to the bed, you would have woken him; instead, you pulled his blanket from his bed and tucked it over him. 

‘C’mon,’ you took Marcus’ hand as you exited the room. ‘Before we wake the sleeping dragon.’

He tossed an arm across your back, pulling you into his side as you walked down the hallway. 

‘The only person who can wear that kid out is himself.’ He reminded you. ‘Maybe we just need another Jack.’

‘Please don’t give me nightmares.’ 

[chemicalpink]

512 ♡ Jung Hoseok

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Words: 1.5k

Genre: fluff, kinda neighbours to lovers

Warnings: none

Summary: There's just something so captivating about the man living inside the apartment at the end of the hall, so what if there's a whole zoo inside your belly whenever you see him, at least there might be a chance to get with him, right?

A/N: Inspired by Selena Quintanilla's song el chico del apartamento 512, part of BCC Summer Games.

You feel exhaustion taking over as you were making your way to your apartment building after being dropped off by a taxi, the way you always did, mind already deciding which movie to pick as you eat dinner, half a mind to really drag yourself all the way to the elevator, the modern, yet somehow overcrowded living complex giving you a sense of comfort and dread at the same time as you hear someone calling out your name.

“Y/N!” you turn your head towards the man, a cute guy by the name of Jungkook of whom you only knew two things for sure, one, he had the most obvious, yet somehow endearing, crush on you, making it a habit of waiting for you outside his own apartment just to greet you as soon as you got home, and two, that even though he was very cute, he was also considerably younger than you. You sighed to yourself, the same way it was customary for you now, turning towards him and smiling just a little bit, although to some it might have been a bit infuriating to go through such a routine on a daily basis, you just couldn’t seem to help to be friendly with the guy, knowing he’s never ill-meaning on his actions. As soon as you acknowledge his existence, you could clearly see him blush and immediately rush inside his home, having you giggle to yourself at his actions

Just a few more steps. A few more steps until you could comfortably be enveloped in a familiar warmth, munching off of whatever leftovers were on the fridge. Just a few more steps until “Y/N! How nice to see you around here!”

“Seokjin, we’ve been over this, I live here, you see me literally every day” you go for the arm had wrapped around your shoulders in the overly flirty way that he always seemed to greet you with whenever you two crossed paths, placing it back down on his side as he laughs your reaction off. The man had always been everything but subtle about his flirty ways, not that you were complaining really. Kim Seokjin was one hell of a man, not just visually, although you were soon to find out that his seemingly romantic advances were merely part of his own charming personality, Kim Seokjin, was as beautiful as he was afraid of commitment, so really you had just stuck by as friendly neighbours that would sometimes turn into drinking buddies.

“Yah, I just wanted to invite you over for dinner, I made kimchi fried rice and it’s so good” and really, it did sound nice, perfect even, Seokjin was one hell of a cook that almost never shared his delicacies and the man knew very well how to play his cards with you. As if the evening couldn’t get more eventful than that, the elevator doors ding open, a man walking out rearranging his black blazer as the world seemed to slow down, the light hitting the right places on his face to make him look even more handsome, hair pushed back, brilliant smile thrown your way as Seokjin acknowledges him “Hoseokie, going somewhere?”

“Oh yeah I’ve got this thing from work” Jung Hoseok, not that you were a stalker, since the two of you weren’t exactly formally introduced, but he lived on your same floor, a few doors down on apartment 512, your schedules didn’t quite overlap so it was a rare occurrence for you to run into him, although you very much treasured every small glimpse you could get of the man, really, it should be a crime not to see that much beauty on a daily basis. Your heart seems to stop beating for two seconds too long when he poses his eyes on you “Hi”

Your ears are ringing and you robotically say a polite goodbye to the man when he takes off, if years of friendship with Seokjin were anything to go by, you should really just skip the dinner invitation in favour of not being questioned any further about what had just happened. “So… someone’s got a massive crush”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you start your original path towards the elevator, forget homemade kimchi fried rice, it was definitely not worth the teasing that Kim Seokjin was capable of, although you might have underestimated his love for meddling with your life as he stops you right before you enter the lift, dragging you unceremoniously towards his apartment like a mother handling her petulant child. It really wasn’t worth the fight.

“I’ll even throw in a homemade bingsu if you spill all the tea” And you were a goner.

Apparently, Seokjin, that little social butterfly, has pretty much become Hoseok’s closest hyung ever since the man arrived at the building, and as soon as he heard your lovesick stories over him, and buckled down in laughter with tears coming out of his eyes, he dramatically pursed his lips saying something along the lines of having the right to remain silent. At least the free dinner was nice.

Surprisingly enough, your crush on Hoseok was a topic that wasn’t really talked about any further, most probably due to the fact that said man was nowhere to be seen, even if the holidays had so much as come around during summer, leaving you that much time to lounge around your apartment, deal with a one-sided lover boy and leech of off Seokin’s cooking skills.

“I’m just saying Y/N” your friend turns to look your way “don’t question me any further, but if you were to ask Hobi out, I’m sure he would say yes”

You groan for the umpteenth time, making a big fuss out of something that you had long deemed like something that was meant to just stay inside your head, so close to making you feel like you could reach it, yet so far away. “You don’t know that”

“I really don’t” Seokjin cough uncomfortably, straightening up on his seat the way he always did when something made him uncomfortable, the way he religiously seemed to be doing whenever you two talked about Hoseok, making you wonder just how much effort he was putting in not spilling his guts on whatever it was that he definitely knew but was adamant on telling you.

So perhaps Seokjin had hyped you up a little bit too much, whatever stratospheric ego he had, he had rubbed off on you, which was probably the reason as to why you were currently hyping yourself up in front of a mirror “Come on Y/N, you’ve got this” you whisper to yourself as you make sure your look is put together but not overly done either. After months of pinning over Hoseok, you were finally just going to go for it, what’s the worst that could happen? Probably a lot of things, you two lived on the same floor after all, so hopefully if he rejected you, it wouldn’t be too awkward when running into each other. Or when you got to use the elevator at once. He might even go ahead and try to evade you like the plague. But none of these thoughts were useful on the bright Sunday morning you woke up determined to make the day to finally ask him out.

You walked down the hall, all too aware of the fact that this was indeed happening. Your heart seemed to pick up its pace as soon as your eyes locked on the small golden number ‘512’ for a few seconds as you fixed your hair and just went for it. Your fist connected with the wood, knocking three times in a row, not too loud but loud enough for anyone inside to hear you clearly calling at the door. Your stomach seemed to get all warm and fuzzy as you heard the lock turn, only for that lovely feeling to turn into a need to contain your stomach contents and your heart seemed to break when an unfamiliar, and very much female face, answered the door. Of course, Hoseok had a girlfriend. What type of man that even remotely looked like he did would have done it single? Screw Seokjin and his stupid way of working your courage and hopes up to do this. He was most definitely going to pay for it. You took a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm yourself down when the girl spoke up “Oh..you must be looking for my brother”

[datleggy]

Post-demise At Hand

TW: mentions of past OD, past drug use, off screen death of character (Alex), grief, anger, misunderstandings 

TK isn’t sure how to react to the news, if he’s being completely honest with himself. 

He learns about the death of his ex through a post on Instagram via an old mutual friend of theirs that he hasn’t been in contact with since even before he packed up his life and moved to Texas. It’s hashtagged: #RIP #gonetoosoon and TK almost laughs out loud like some kind of maniac, because is that all Alex's life amounted to in the end? 

Two half-assed hashtags and a badly edited picture of Alex smirking at the person who took the stupid photograph in the first place. TK remembers that day; Alex had finally passed his drivers test and gotten his license. He remembers telling Alex to smile, remembers his ex boyfriend turning to him, rolling his eyes, saying something like “Why did I bother with this again? We live in New York.” except TK can’t remember what he said to Alex to be on the receiving end of that knowing little smirk. 

The one he can’t stop staring at now. 

“Earth to TK!” 

TK almost drops his phone onto the floor, blinking up at the person waving their hand in his face. “Huh?” 

Judd gives him a curious look. “Been calling you for like a straight minute, kid, you doin’ alright?” 

TK nods. “Yeah, sorry, yeah, I’m good, I was reading an article, I uh, got distracted.” he shakes his head. “What’s up?” 

“Your boyfriend’s downstairs lookin’ for you--” Judd tries not so subtly to peek at whatever it is that’s got TK so enraptured and catches a glimpse of a familiar face, one that gives him pause. 

He frowns. “TK, what the hell? Stalking your ex, seriously?” he blurts the accusation outloud without thinking, which is of course the very moment Carlos and Paul come gallivanting up the stairs, their laughter at something one of them said dying out abruptly. 

Paul’s eyes dart between the two men and he clears his throat awkwardly before motioning for Judd to skedaddle with him. Judd, who couldn’t take a hint if it hit him on the side of the head like a tire iron, simply folds his arms across his chest expectantly. “Well? Your fella’s right over there, so what’re you doing all up in your ex boyfriends business?” 

Paul sighs. Jesus. “Judd. Maybe we should give them some privacy?” Carlos is scarily silent next to him and Paul just knows shit’s about to hit the fan, and he’d rather be far far away when it does happen. 

Carlos swallows hard, wipes his hands against his uniform pants, and says, “It’s fine. I’ll um, I’ll see you at home.” before turning around and going back the way he came. 

“Man.” Paul stares at TK, who hasn’t uttered a single word as of yet. “You’re not gonna go follow after him?” 

Judd scoffs. “And do what? Tell him it’s not what it looks like?” 

TK blinks rapidly a few times, as if coming out of a daze. “I--” His eyes go wide when he realizes what’s happened. “Shit.” he runs over to the edge of the railing to call for Carlos, but his boyfriend apparently bolted, because he’s nowhere to be seen. 

Judd whistles loudly behind him, arms still crossed disapprovingly. “Carlos is a good catch, TK, shouldn’t be messin’ around with him if you’re not--” 

TK whirls around to face him, the look on his face mutinous. “I wasn’t stalking my ex on Instagram Judd! Get your head outta your ass and outta my business!” 

Judd takes a step forward and Paul can see where this is headed; he immediately gets in between the two men, arms raised. “Hey! Enough! You two need to relax.” 

Judd huffs. “I’m not the one tryna step out on my--” 

“Alex is dead.” Saying it outloud is surreal. 

Alex is dead. 

What the fuck. 

Paul and Judd both give pause. 

“What?” 

TK sighs, aggravated, and shows them the post he’d been caught looking at earlier. 

“TK...” Paul gulps. “I’m sorry man.” 

TK nods but doesn’t utter a word. 

Judd cringes. “Crap, I--” He wants to smack his head against the palm of his hand as hard as he can. “I’m such a heel, Jesus TK, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed--I’m so sorry.” 

TK leans his back against the railing and this time it’s his turn to cross his arms over his chest. “Yeah, well...tell that to Carlos.” 

“TK I’ll call him right now and tell him I misunderstood, I swear--” 

TK interrupts him again with a shake of his head. “No, no, it’s better if I just explain it myself.” he looks up at Judd through long lashes and manages a half hearted grin. “I guess I should be happy you respect my boyfriend enough to snitch on my ass?” 

Judd knows TK’s throwing him a bone, but still, he doesn’t feel he can take it. “I do,” he admits. “But that don’t mean I should’ve went ahead and assumed the worst. You deserve better than that and for that I’m especially sorry.” The whole thing with his own father in law stepping out on his Grace’s mother is still messing around with his head, but that was no excuse to think the worst of TK, of all people. 

But TK tells him not to sweat it, he’ll call Carlos and tell him everything, no big, really. And then he asks the two men not to mention anything about any of this to the Captain or to any of the rest of the team, if it can be helped. 

Paul frowns. “TK, it’s not good to try and go through these types of things alone, you know.” 

TK shakes his head. “I’m not trying to, really. I just,” he shrugs, looking a little like a lost lamb. “I don’t really know how I feel about it yet? So I’d rather not deal with everybody’s sympathies right now, if that’s ok.” 

**********************

He calls Carlos but gets sent straight to voicemail every single time and when that doesn’t work he texts him that whatever he thought was going on, there was nothing to worry about, that he would explain if Carlos would just pick up his damn phone. 

Work gets progressively busier after that and TK barely has time to catch his breath, much less to try and get into contact with his boyfriend, and so it’s not until the very end of his shift, hours later, that he’s able to rush home--that is, he thinks sullenly, if Carlos hasn’t changed all the locks on him.

TK shakes his head; Carlos wouldn’t do that. He’s probably stewing though, and that thought doesn’t make TK feel any better as he steps past the threshold and inside. He’s had such a long and tiring day he hasn’t even had time to properly process what’s happened to Alex. 

Carlos has cooked dinner, if the wonderful smell coming from the kitchen is any indication. He’s at the table eating alone with the TV on in the other room for background noise, and he doesn’t even look up to greet TK, only motions towards the stovetop vaguely. “Help yourself.” he mutters. 

TK ignores the food and takes a seat right across from Carlos, leans over the table with a grimace. “Babe, I swear to you it’s not like that. Judd misunderstood what happened--” 

Carlos sets his fork down with a clatter that startles TK into jumping slightly. “Look, I get it, moving in is a huge commitment, it’s scary, I know, but I didn’t think you would--” 

“Please,” TK stops him. “Please let me just explain, please.” he hastily takes his phone out of his back pocket and opens the app. He can hear Carlos sigh above him but it doesn’t deter TK from finding the post and holding it up to his face. “This is what Judd saw me looking at.” 

Carlos reluctantly lays eyes on the photo, his irritation and hurt only peeking when he sees that it’s a photo of TK’s almost fiance. That is, of course, until he reads the caption, notices the hashtags below, and suddenly it all makes sense. He doesn’t know quite what to say, except: “Oh.” 

TK nods. “Caught me by surprise. I um, I haven’t heard from him since, well, you know. So I didn’t really know how to react when I found out and then Judd came up behind me and I mean, you know the rest of the story…” 

“Oh.” Carlos says again, because he’s still trying to process the news. 

“Yeah.” TK shrinks back in his chair and the wounded look of him finally snaps Carlos out of it.  

“Crap,” Carlos groans. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He gets up and rounds the table, kneeling down in front of TK. “I was hurt and I ran off without letting you even get a word in, that was messed up and I’m sorry. Are you ok?” He makes a face at his own question, because of course TK isn’t ok. The man he’d proposed marriage to a little over a year ago now has passed, after all. 

There’s no way he’s ‘ok’. 

“I uh, I don’t know.” TK admits quietly. 

Carlos puts a hand on his knee and squeezes gently. “It’s ok to be sad, Ty.” 

TK shakes his head. “It’s--I’m not. I’m not sad. I think? I mean...it’s not like we were on friendly terms, you know? I’m more surprised I guess, than anything else. He was still so young.” 

Carlos nods solemnly. “How did it happen, do you know?” 

TK clears his throat and scratches at the back of his head. “The obituary I found online said it was some kind of car accident near PA. I didn’t really find out any more details than that, though. The funeral was earlier this afternoon.” 

Carlos blinks. “Oh. None of your friends from New York said anything? Before today?” The fact that TK had to find out through Instagram is probably half the reason his boyfriend is finding it so hard to react properly to the tragic news. 

“I didn’t really bother to keep in contact with a lot of our friends when I left, to be honest. And plus, they were all Alexs’ friends before becoming mine. So he kinda had the right to keep them after the divorce...in a manner of speaking.” TK runs a hand through the greasy locks of his hair and grimaces. “Anyway, I should probably go shower, it’s been a long day and I’m kinda gross.” 

Carlos nods, letting TK worm his way out of the conversation without too much fuss. 

**********************

In the shower TK stands under the spray of hot water and stares blankly at the tiled wall in front of him, irritated by the jumbled thoughts plaguing him. God, he thinks, I could really use a drink right about now. 

What exactly is he supposed to be feeling right now? 

Grief? 

Anger? 

Or perhaps regret. 

It’s not as though TK ever got any real closure with Alex and now he never would. After being rejected by the man and worse yet, told he’d been replaced, TK hadn’t wanted to feel any of that pain and had gone to great and dangerous lengths to make sure he was good and numb that night. 

He hadn’t meant to overdose. But he’d popped a couple of pills initially, so sure that he could control himself this time, that this time it would be different. But twenty minutes later when the two little white pills had done nothing to soothe his aching heart TK thought, what’s two more? And then two more after that, and then maybe two more, and then he’d lost count, but fuck it, if he hadn’t felt better in the moment. 

The pills had worked! He couldn’t feel a thing, his head was blessedly empty and suddenly this giant weight had been lifted from his chest and he could breathe again. Until he couldn’t. 

The water is cold by the time TK steps out of the tub. He dries himself off and slips on a pair of boxer shorts and an old gray t-shirt. 

Carlos is waiting for him in the kitchen with a full plate, reheated, and normally the smell would be appetizing, but tonight it makes TK a little sick. “You alright? You were in there a while.” 

TK nods. “M’good.” 

“Here, sit, you should eat something before going to bed.” he sets the plate down in front of him and TK just stares at it like it’s the first time he’s seen food in a while and he’s not quite sure what to do with it. 

“Thanks, but I’m not really hungry. I think I’m just gonna go to sleep. I’m tired.” 

Carlos nods, his lips pursed like he wants to say something more, but instead all he says is, “Ok.” 

******************

It’s nearly three in the morning when TK wakes up in a cold sweat, gasping for air. He’s not sure how he does it, but he manages not to wake Carlos up as he sneaks out of their bed. 

A few minutes later he’s outside in his sweatpants and a hoodie, mindlessly jogging along his usual route. It’s not drugs or alcohol, but running does help. He runs and runs and runs until it hurts and even then, he keeps on running. It’s not until the cramping in his stomach is too much to bare that he finally stops and lets his body rest on a park bench. 

And it’s then that he feels his phone vibrating in his pocket and realizes he’s got three missed calls. “Shit.” he picks up immediately, holding the phone up to his ear with a shaky hand. “Hey.” 

“Where are you? TK, it’s almost five in the morning. What’s going on?” Carlos sounds frenzied on the other end of the line and TK can’t say he blames him. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep, I went out on a run and I lost track of time. I’m headed home now, sorry. Go back to bed.” 

“I can come pick you up, where are you?” 

TK sighs. “Carlos, seriously, I’m within walking distance, don’t worry, I’ll be there in like fifteen minutes.” he hangs up without letting the other man get another word in, which he knows isn’t right, but can’t really find it in himself to care. 

His legs feel like jello when he gets up and the trek back to their place is torturous enough to make TK regret telling Carlos not to bother getting him. By the time he makes it home he’s limping slightly and his stomach is in knots. 

The door swings open before TK can even take out his keys, and Carlos is standing there at the entrance looking a mixture of concerned and annoyed. 

TK rolls his eyes and ignores the look, pushing his way inside and kicking off his shoes at the door. “What?” he snaps, when Carlos won’t stop staring at him. 

Carlos frowns. “Stop that.” 

“Stop what? What are you talking about? I went out for a run. You’re acting like I went out to shoot up at a meth lab or something. I was gone for less than two hours!” TK half shouts, his frustration spiking up a notch. 

“Stop shutting me out. I know you’re upset about what happened to Alex, but you can’t just-” 

“About what happened to Alex?” TK scoffs incredulously. “Nothing happened to Alex, Carlos, he died. That’s not something that happens to someone and then they like, get the fuck over it! He died! He’s dead! Gone! Never gonna see him again, didn’t get to say bye or even fuck you to the guy, he just went ahead and died and that’s that!” TK lets out a choked little laugh that sounds more like a cry than anything and covers his face with both hands, tries his best to get his shit together and under control, but it’s no use. 

It’s quiet for a long time and then TK speaks again and it's soft and agonized, “I loved him.” 

And Carlos nods, takes him by the shoulders and leads him to the stairs, where they both sit down and TK buries himself into Carlos, into his safe haven, and his breath hitches loudly and Carlos says, “I know.” and TK lets out a big broken sob. 

“I’m here.” Carlos assures him gently, “I’m here. It’s gonna be ok.”

.

[missturtleduck]

The Girls of Ba Sing Se - (Sokka x f!Reader) Pt.1

Part Two│Part Three

Toph Beifong is her parents’ greatest secret, so they require the upmost discretion. That’s where Y/N comes in; as Toph’s etiquette teacher, she lives within the Beifong estate, training the sole heir in being a suitable lady of society. However, when the Avatar comes knocking, Y/N respects her duty to Toph. In leaving the estate, she’ll become a great asset in the war, and a greater asset to her friends around her.

Knelt in her white robes, Toph Beifong tapped the floor in front of her with two fingers, gracious but silent for the tea that she had been poured.

“Good, Toph,” Y/N smiled, pouring her own green tea. “I’m glad you’re keeping up your basic etiquette. Your father will be very pleased.”

The blind girl snorted into her cup, sipping at it as gracefully as she could manage. It was a loud enough sound that it woke Kuai from his slumber; yawning, the wrinkled dog shuffled along the floor to come to Toph’s side. A grin overtook the apathy on her face as she fussed the dog’s head. As much as Y/N knew Toph had little need for a guide dog, it was comforting to know that she had Kuai if she ever felt alone in that big estate.

Placing down her empty teacup, Toph placed her hands innocently in her lap. 

“May I be excused for today’s lessons?”

“Of course, Toph.”

The noble stood, not very tall above the kneeling Y/N, and bowed low. She left, Kuai nipping at her heels as she went. Once she had left the room, Y/N’s pleasant smile fell from her face; she knew where Toph had been going for the past few weeks. Everyone who anything about Earth Rumble knew it was as coarse as river shingle, often dangerous for its competitors. The Gecko, the Hippo, and the Boulder? They were all bad news, and yet Toph had handed their egos back to them in swift and brutal fashion.

Y/N cleared away the dishes from tea. What if Toph got hurt? Or, perhaps even worse, what if her father found out? These thoughts had plagued her mind for a while now, leaving her torn between going to Lao, or dealing with it herself.

With the tea room clean, Y/N stepped into her quarters to prepare for a pleasant evening stroll. Loosening her hair from its rigid bun, it fell in relaxed tresses past her shoulders, easing the tension headache creeping in. On the inside of her jade cuffs, she slipped a small blade on the off-chance things turned messy on the streets of Gaoling. Throwing a thin cardigan over herself, Y/N set out to leave the house. Before she reached the door, a whine caught her attention.

Kuai was lying under a great circular window, the gentle sunlight not cheering up the gentle dog, nor the affection he was now receiving from Y/N. Perhaps it was sad look in those big brown eyes, or how his jowls seemed to emulate a crying face, but she convinced herself that bringing Kuai was a necessary thing to do. He could track her with his nose, she had argued. Clicking her tongue in command, the lump of a dog bounded to her feet and sat patiently, tail thumping a din against the floor.

Opening the door out into the gardens, Y/N stifled a laugh as Kuai practically fell through the open doors and onto the grass. He became caught up in the euphoria of rubbing himself into the peonies that he almost forgot she was there. Y/N chided him, struggling to keep the grin from her face. Now, they were ready to leave.

“Y/N, a lady shouldn’t be venturing out by herself,” A guard, one Y/N was friendly with, tutted.

“Lu, I am no lady,” She laughed, brushing off any status imposed onto her. “I am just a fifteen year old girl excited to spend my time drinking good tea in the city. And I have Kuai!”

Lu allowed the estate gate to be opened, albeit with some reluctance, Y/N leaving almost sated of the worry that tormented her mind. The streets of Gaoling were safer in the daytime, as with most places in the Earth Kingdom, but she had understood Lu’s objection. At any moment, the Fire Nation could launch an attack; the entire city buzzed with a quiet anxiety. Shops were closing earlier, people keeping their doors and window locked. What the city, nor the Beifongs, didn’t know was that if they truly launched an attack, Y/N could keep Toph safe. How, she couldn’t reveal to them.

It seemed that beyond being cute, Kuai had purpose. He hurtled far in front of her, darting back and forth at ungodly speed; he had found Toph. Following the dog – and cursing him for running so fast – she came across a tunnel burrowed deep into the side of a mountain. Its artificial shape, nothing like the natural caves in the area, told Y/N everything she needed to know. Here, she would find her earthbenders.

The dog bristled, whining lowly as he pawed at her leg. She hushed him, scratching behind his ears before venturing into the dark. Brushing her fingertips against the carved-out rock, Y/N guided herself through the dark until she could barely see a glimpse of orange light – flame.

As with most places in the Earth Kingdoms, the entire arena was formed entirely of rock. It was grand, if you ignored the complete absence of colour or natural light, big enough to make the largest warrior feel quite small. The bottom rows were completely devoid of people, bar three kids her age, maybe younger. They weren’t earthbenders. Y/N frowned, deciding to go with the earthbenders’ flow, clambering up with Kuai to one of the top rows.

She was right to do so.

A scream alerted the dog and girl duo, the boy with the wolf tail leapt back away from a large rock that had smashed into the seats a hairs breadth away from him. Perhaps she would have snorted in amusement if it weren’t for the shock.

“Welcome to Earth Rumble V!” A voice called above the commotion – though it seemed to only cause more, that being of the rowdy, excited type. “I am your host, Xin Fu!”

The sinewy man seemed as excitable as the crowd as he commentated on the matches. Each fighting man seemed to grow larger and more muscular as the night proceeded on with more matches; they fought dirty, and most were as immovable as the element they could harness. Well, all except the Fire Nation Man. He was a pitiful excuse for a warrior, Y/N decided.

As Kuai began to growl under her feet, Y/N perked up her head up.

They called her the Blind Bandit. Toph, her student and friend, stood proud in what short stature she had, a championship belt held high above her head. Not in her white robes, she wore proud green, a stark emerald. Her hair fell into her face, uncouth from an etiquette standpoint. Spirits, she was a little girl, tough but still so little. She may have had the best earthbending teacher that money could buy – money not being an object for the Beifong family – but it didn’t stop Y/N whispering a silent prayer, pulling Kuai onto her lap.

“The Boulder feels conflicted about fighting a young, blind girl.”

‘Yeah,’ Y/N thought, a sudden surge of rage filling her, ‘So you should.’

Toph, the meek socialite she was, curled up into herself, a quiver crossing her lips. “Sounds to me like you’re scared, Boulder!”

“Spirits, give me strength,” Y/N sighed, rubbing a hand across her face.

The ensuing fight was something spectacular. Every movement Toph made seemed entirely instinctual. It was over so quickly that Y/N almost thought she’d missed the fight. In a quick flurry of movements, Toph had humiliated, beaten, and confined the Boulder between three stalactites. Knuckles tightening as she grabbed the ends of her sleeves, Y/N didn’t know whether to be impressed or terrified. The terror, though, was not the kind etched on the Boulder’s face, but the kind that stirred in her stomach, boiling up nausea as she thought of what may happen if the Beifongs found out that their sweet daughter was an underground earthbending master.

Xin Fu entered the ring, provoking the crowd into roaring cheers as he held up Toph’s hand in victory. In his other was a hefty bag of what was likely gold; the crowd fell deadly silent the moment it was offered for a victory against the Blind Bandit.

“What?” He sneered, his confidence grating Y/N the wrong way. “No one dares to face her?”

Before Y/N could stand to volunteer, the youngest of the group nearly struck by a rock at the beginning of the tournament stood. “I will!”

Perhaps it was her imagination, but Xin Fu’s expression shifted to something sinister, only for a second before plastering on a smile. By Kuai’s growl, she assumed she was right. As the two fighters circled each other, they spoke, though not loudly enough for Y/N to hear way up away from the arena. The fight lasted longer than that with the Boulder, worrying Y/N and pleasing the audience. It was the final blow, however, that left Y/N speechless.

The boy, shorter and brighter looking than Y/N, pushed Toph off of the ring with the air.

He was an airbender – the Avatar.

Eyes widening, Y/N beckoned Kuai to follow as she hurtled down the seats as gently as possible. Calling after her, she worried that the Avatar’s shouts may have drowned hers out, but Toph merely stood in the mouth of the tunnel, seemingly ignoring the airbender.

“Bandit,” Y/N cut in, putting on her most menacing face. “We have a lot to talk about.”

As Toph closed the tunnel, cutting the two girls and their dog off from the tournament, Y/N could hear the indignant whining of the other boy, accusatory towards the girl who ‘cut off the Avatar’. She snorted, walking alongside the earthbender at ease now the fighting was done.

“So…” Y/N cleared her throat, a small smile playing at her lips. “Underground earthbending fights? Not very ladylike.”

Toph scoffed, fighting a laugh. “It beats staying home and reciting tea ceremonies.”

“I love a good tea ceremony!”

“That,” the girl said, “Is sad.”

There was an air of silence between them for a moment.

“Y/N, you won’t tell my dad, will you?”

At that, Y/N grasped Toph’s hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “No, but I will be coming with you if you decide to fight again. I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt.”

Toph laughed, clearly invincible, undamaged from her bruised ego. They snuck back onto the grounds easy enough, retiring to their separate bedrooms. Etiquette lessons seemed somewhat useless knowing that Toph was possibly the greatest earthbender Y/N had ever seen. On top of seeing the Avatar alive and in the flesh, the day had taken such strange turns.

Y/N had no idea of what was to come.