#pro's: ill be caught up soon

[shenzuns]

OUR SONG OF HOPE, SHE DANCES ON THE WING, HIGHER OH HIGHER

[avatarchic]

TWENTY-SIX MONTHS

Before Todoroki Shoto came Pro Hero Shoto. You would be a fool to think he would pick the first before the other. You would be a fool to think that you, a citizen with no name, could ever stand by his side.

— starring. baby daddy!todoroki shoto x fem!reader

— tags. miscommunication trope, angst, pregnancy and giving birth, friends with benefits, vague relationships, running away, slight single parent!au

— warnings. ages are unmentioned, but shoto is in his late 20s/early 30s, smut, soft sex, cunnilingus, praise, p in v, use of petnames (baby, pretty girl), reader gets called a good girl once, shoto is highkey a munch

— word count. 8.2k

— requested? no

— notes. this one ruined me tbh LOL i have a nasty habit of slipping btw present and past tense so the tenses in this one might be all over the place :')))

Whatever you and Todoroki Shoto had together, you knew it wasn’t romantic.

You were his outlet. His source of relaxation when being a hero became too much to bear on his shoulders alone. You were fantastical. You were illusionary. With you, he was no longer Pro Hero Shoto, Number Three Hero. With you, he was just Shoto. And for your moments away from the world hidden beneath wrinkled sheets and closed curtains, that was enough for him. When morning came, and those curtains had to be drawn, he would become Pro Hero Shoto again, and you would wake up to an empty bed.

For you, he was everything.

For you, he was your hero before he became a Pro. He saved you from succumbing to the stress of standing out to survive as a support class student. He saved you from your insecurities and false ambitions, and he saved you from living a life you didn’t truly want. Todoroki Shoto was your best friend before he became the man shrouded in shadow — the man you hid away in secrecy to bed whenever he wanted.

He told you he would be gone for a while. A mission in upper Kyoto that took him away from your arms while you stayed safe in Tokyo. He assured you that he would be fine and return to you as soon as possible. If you were a fool, you might’ve taken those to heart and swooned under the pretense of love. But you knew better.

Before Todoroki Shoto came Pro Hero Shoto. You would be a fool to think he would pick the first before the other. You would be a fool to think that you, a citizen with no name, could ever stand by his side. In your eyes, Shoto put his work before himself. Admirable, strong, ever-the-reliable Pro Hero Shoto. The nights he spent with you as just Shoto made you wonder who else got to see his true self.

The second month of his absence came, and you were sick. An illness had overtaken you, leaving you bedridden for days on end. At first, it had just been nausea. You put it off as motion sickness — you often had to take the train to and from anywhere. Perhaps your stomach had simply met its limit and was taking it out on you with lashes of sickness and vomiting.

After a week of being washed away in your bile, you realized that you had yet to bleed that month. Rather, you realized you hadn’t had your monthly bleeding for a while. You weren’t stupid. You knew what it all meant, and you knew the consequences of your actions had finally caught up to you. You hid away from the world, only leaving to purchase tests from the store.

The answers mocked you. PREGNANT. TWO MONTHS+.

You considered getting rid of it. To keep it your dirty little secret. Shoto would never have to know — no one would ever have to know. But as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, your hand resting atop your stomach, you felt at peace for once. As if you finally had a reason to keep going.

Five months had passed since he was gone, and you felt it now more than ever. You never explained to any of your friends or neighbours who was responsible for the swelling of your tummy, nor about the packages of furniture fit for a nursery that showed up on your doorstep. They never asked. No one knew your trysts with Shoto, and you planned to keep it that way.

For his sake.

You wished. You desperately wished that he could stay by your side, that he could support you through this time of anxiety and worry. You daydreamed of welcoming him home, your little bundle of joy wrapped in your arms as you kissed Shoto on the cheek — a reward for working hard as he always did. You thought about spending more than just nights of pleasure with the two-toned man, about wearing his ring and raising your beloved child together.

As a family.

Thirteen months had passed since you last saw Todoroki Shoto.

Thirteen long, gruelling, and lonely months were spent mourning his absence, even though he was still alive somewhere. It felt like the clouds that followed you for weeks parted only when your son was born. He looked like you. He had your nose and your eyes. He had the same rounded cheeks you still adorn, even well into adulthood. His voice was like bells on a clear sunny day, and when he lay in your arms, you declared that you would love him for all you were worth.

Even if the tuft of red and white on his head brought you immense heartache.

A selfish part of you wished that nothing of your son, whom you’ve named Yami, would resemble his father. That way, you could truly hide his origins — your past that you refused to uncover. But the bigger part of you was overjoyed. The moment you laid eyes on his hair, matted down with blood and amniotic fluid, you sobbed uncontrollably. The nurses and midwife recognized the two-toned hair immediately and watched you with pitiful eyes as you clutched Yami to your chest.

You moved away the second you were discharged from the hospital, baby carrier in tow. You wished your neighbours well and thanked them for being so kind to you in the years you lived among them. You were gone within that same week.

You lived peacefully in your new home, tucked away in the countryside of southern Japan. You opted to stay away from TVs and the internet, worried that seeing his face might make you regret the rash decision to pick up and leave. Yami was growing quickly, already large for a four-month-old. His hair grew out, more red than white. 

You didn’t know if Shoto had made it back from his mission. If he did, you weren’t sure how long he had been back or whether he had sustained any injuries. You didn’t know if he went to your apartment to search for his fantasy. You didn’t know if he thought of you at all.

You didn’t know if he was alive.

The longer you spent away from the man, the more your heart yearned for him. Whenever Yami would quiet down for his nap, you stared out the window at the acres of empty farmland. In the vastness of space, you could only think of him. The man who had taken your heart from the tender age of fifteen. The man who possessed your life in his hands, though your essence seemed invisible to those blue and grey eyes. 

The fool in you wondered if he ever had feelings for you — if he ever burned for you the way you did for him. 

You felt like a dessert. Scorched inside and empty. Golden sands represented him—burning to the touch and yet all-encompassing. Even without him by your side, he was always there. He surrounded you, dragging you in, and you let him.

Yami’s babbling would always break you out of your reverie, the pangs of guilt and sorrow gnawing away at your still-beating heart. The routine remained the same, day after day. After he woke up from his nap with an incoherent cry for his mother, you would settle him onto your lap and cry. You sobbed into his soft tufts of hair, apologizing for taking him away from his father, for hiding him away from the world just because you were a coward.

Yami was your darkness. He was your uncovered secret. 

Two years and two months had passed since you last saw Todoroki Shoto.

Yami was seventeen months old and starting to look more and more like his father. He took his first steps earlier than any parenting book had told you he would, and it wasn’t long after when he said his first word. It seemed the world was against you, and the universe was punishing you for keeping Yami away. You broke down for the first time in a while when that first word hit your ears.

“Da… Dada…”

You weren’t alone in your silent, unspoken wishes to be at Shoto’s side. Poor Yami, who had never met his father, spoke Shoto into existence with that one word.

“My baby,” you sobbed, hugging Yami tightly to you as he babbled, repeating those two syllables over and over. “My poor baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Mommy’s so sorry, my baby…” You rocked back and forth, crying endlessly. Yami’s hands grasped at your clothes, hair, and face. His little round features twisted into a grimacing cry as he watched tears pour from your tired eyes for a reason he didn’t yet understand.

The day he spoke his first word was when you showed him a picture of his father for the first time. Recognition flashed behind rounded eyes, recognition for a man he’d never met.

While you were grocery shopping — Yami balanced on your hip, a paper bag full of produce in the other arm — you heard Shoto’s name.

“Didn’t you hear? Pro Hero Shoto is here! In town!”

“Isn’t that weird? Why would such a hotshot be here, of all places? We aren’t even on most maps…”

“Who cares?! Do ya think I can get an autograph?”

You break out into a run without paying attention to the rest of the conversation. You hold Yami to your chest, supporting his head as you run with all your might. The paper bag of fruit and vegetables lay forgotten behind you, surely to be crushed by any passing vehicles. You run until you can’t run anymore, chest heaving in exhaustion. Using your object manipulation quirk, you open the front door to your house without taking your hands off Yami.

You whisper sweetings into his ear, telling him everything would be okay. Maybe you were telling yourself.

Not long after you returned home, the door rattled with a gentle knock. The very door you locked moments ago. You hold your breath, not wanting to see anyone. You didn’t want to see him.

Your name was spoken in that soft voice you missed so much. Before you could stop him, Yami started sobbing, his high-pitched cries alerting the person outside that you were there. You shush Yami desperately, rocking him back and forth in an attempt to calm him down. You kiss his forehead, silently begging him to stop crying.

Your name was called out again, this time panicked and louder. Yami’s cries increase in volume, and you feel your eyes water all the same.

The door hinges begin to frost over, and it’s knocked down in seconds. The loud noise scares your son, causing him to sob uncontrollably as he grasps painfully at your hair. You hide him behind you as you face the intruder head-on. Without blinking an eye, you use your quirk to lift the door off the ground, pushing it against the intruder, hoping to push him out completely.

The door is pushed away easily. After all, you are no match for Pro Hero Shoto.

He has gotten larger in the twenty-six months since you last saw him. His shoulders grew broader, his hero uniform barely hiding the dense but lean muscle that hid beneath it. His hair was longer, falling into his eyes as if he didn’t have time to take care of it. The man in front of you looks different from the man you knew, but it is undoubtedly him.

He breathes out your name, steam rolling off his left side and icicles glistening atop his skin on his right. He steps over the forgotten door, into your house, and into your safe haven, large and commanding of your attention. You try to make yourself bigger, to hide Yami from his eyes, and perhaps to hide your shame as you stare at the father of your child.

“I looked for you everywhere,” he gravels, his voice deep and crackling with emotion. “I came home, and you were gone. Do you have any idea how fucking scary that was?! No one knew where you were, and your apartment was empty. I didn’t know if you were safe, I didn’t know if you were alone…” Shoto steps closer to you, anger seeping into his expression. “For fuck’s sake, I didn’t know if you were alive!”

Your heart hammers in your chest as he grows closer, his fists clenching angrily by his side. His eyes search you desperately, searching for any sign of injury or abuse. They trace over your wrists and ankles, perhaps looking for signs that you were held here not on your own will, that you didn’t leave him just because you wanted to.

You pick your brain for the right words to say. You have thought about this day for years, and now that he’s in front of you, you don’t know what to think. Your mind is a mess of shame and joy, your heart struggling in a fight against itself. Analyzing him, your eyes rake over his body. There were a few more scars you don’t remember, some fine lines on his face that weren’t there before, but it was him.

As your brain wraps around the fact that Shoto was really there after over two years, Shoto collapses to his knees in front of you. He all but crawls over to you as he shoves his face into your thighs. Hot, stinging tears hit your skin as he cries into your lap, his hands reaching to hold you. Large, calloused fingers grasped at your thighs, pulling you closer to him.

“I was so scared,” he admits, his body shaking as he cries silently. “I thought… I thought a villain had taken you.”

Your hands hover behind you, keeping Yami hidden. His cries have thankfully subsided the second Shoto entered the room, but you weren’t sure for how long that would last. You can feel him grabbing at your shirt, trying to peek around you. Resisting the urge to wipe away Shoto’s tears, you grip onto your son tightly.

“How did you know I was here?” You lick your dry lips, wincing at how raspy your voice is. The first words spoken to this man in over two years are painted over with wariness and caution, very unlike the words of encouragement and longing you had given him your last night together. “No one knew I was here. Not even my family, so how did you…” You trail off, unsure if you want to know the answer to this question.

Shoto pulls away from your lap, looking up at you with bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “I searched for you every day. I never stopped once I realized you were gone. I was in communication with every hero in this fucking country, hoping that one day one of them would spot you.” He hastily wipes his cheeks, his trembling hands remaining at your side.

“Why did you go?” he asks in a whisper. His voice, low and cracking, is broken as he speaks. “Why did you leave me? Did I do something? Was I…” Shoto swallows thickly as his insecurities taint his mind. “Was I not good to you? Did I make you leave?”

His endless questions send you for a loop. In front of you was not Pro Hero Shoto, but just Shoto. Your Shoto, the one you long for in your dreams. The one who paints your every happy memory and the one whose name you whisper into the dead of night.

And yet, as you feel Yami’s tiny hands grab your arm, you can’t answer any of his questions.

“Dada…!”

The both of you freeze, and the world stands still for a moment. Shoto’s trembling gaze slowly left yours, meeting the eyes of the toddler behind you. The first thing Shoto notices is his hair — bright red with streaks of white bleeding through. He feels his heart stop and start again, his hold on you finally slipping as his body goes somewhat limp. He falls back onto his heels, fully kneeling before you now.

Snapping out of it, you turn around and take Yami into your arms, facing away from Shoto as you shush the poor baby, calming him down quietly. Shoto can only watch as you handle him with a gentle care he isn’t privy to.

Without sparing another glance at Shoto, you start to walk away. He calls out your name hastily, and you can hear him clamber to his feet. Swallowing harshly, you look at him over your shoulder. Shoto looks out of place in your cozy living room, too large for the space. And yet, he appears small. His shoulders are hunched in as he reaches out to you with a face that begs you not to leave.

“He… needs to be put down for his nap,” you whisper, kissing Yami’s temple. “We… can talk after.”

Before you can regret your words, you head into his nursery, painted a soft yellow. You coo at your son, gently resting him in the large crib that took up most of the room’s space. You hum a lullaby to him as you stroke his hair, looking down at him with nothing but love.

Even long after he fell asleep, you don’t move. You stay there for a while, watching Yami so closely you don’t notice the presence at the door.

Shoto’s voice comes in a whisper. “He… He is mine, isn’t he?”

You can only nod, shame filling your soul as tears slip from your watery eyes. “His name is Yami,” you speak, your voice cracking.

Shoto flinches but waits patiently as he watches you come to a stand. He doesn’t rush you as you place Yami’s favourite stuffed animals by his side, leaning down and kissing his forehead before approaching Shoto.

“Let’s talk in my room,” you whisper, glancing at Yami before shutting the door behind you. 

The two of you enter your room, the stifling air suffocating you as you shuffle over to your bed. Shaky hands reach for your pillows as you keep your back to the Todoroki, fluffing them to keep yourself busy. Your throat feels grating as you swallow down harshly. The room feels both hot and freezing, which you assume is his doing.

He doesn’t say anything either as he stares at the back of your head. Your hair looks different from the last time he saw you, and the clothes over your body aren’t articles he can remember you own. He thinks back to that night when quiet goodbyes were whispered between sweaty sheets. He wonders what went wrong.

His eyes wander, his frightful gaze tearing away from you only to look around your room. There are remnants of you everywhere. Family pictures hang from the walls, and old posters he vaguely remembers from your apartment are pasted against grey paint. It was you, but different. It wasn’t as colourful as your old room, and your trinkets are either out of sight or gone altogether.

When his eyes rest on you once more, a million questions run through his mind. Why did you leave him without a word? Images of your child, the very one who bore a striking resemblance to himself, flash in the forefront of his mind.

“How have you been?” you croak out after too many beats of silence. Hugging a pillow to your chest, you turn ever so slightly, only glancing at him from the corner of your eye as if it were painful to even look at him. Perhaps it is. 

Shoto can only stare at you in disbelief, his brows curling upward as his heartache shines through. “How have I been?” he repeats breathily, his low voice raising half an octave. His mouth opens, but the words die on his tongue. Only after an excruciatingly long moment does he find the words again. “I’ve been miserable. You were gone.”

You wince at the strain in his voice, gripping the pillow even tighter. Your knuckles whiten under your tight hold. “I’m sorry,” you whisper pathetically, swallowing the lump in your throat painfully.

“Why?” he asks again, his voice cracking as he takes a tentative step toward you. “Why did you disappear?” Shoto reaches for you, stopping just short of grabbing you by the shoulders. He can’t tell if he wants to shake you until you see sense or hug you and never let go.

“I had to,” you urge, finally meeting his eyes. Your breath hitches, and you regret turning to him, but now you can’t look away. Those mismatched eyes that used to bore into yours with unreadable emotion as he draped his body over yours were tired, dull, and pained.

Shoto is the first to break eye contact, staring at your floorboards as he attempts to string together his thoughts. “Was it me?”

With furrowed brows, you shake your head no. “Shoto—”

“If I knew,” he rushes out, interrupting you. His gaze drops to your stomach, and he imagines what you might’ve looked like, swollen with his child.  “If I knew, I would’ve come back sooner. Fuck the mission, you needed me and I…” He cuts himself off, bringing his hands up to your shoulders. His grip is tight enough to force you to look at him straight on, yet gentle. You think you can feel them trembling over your clothes, but you aren’t sure if you’re imagining it or not. “I’m so sorry,” he almost cries. The pillow in your hands falls to the carpeted floor, but neither of you cares to pay attention to it.

“Shoto, no,” you whisper, cupping his cheeks as you press your lips together. You thumb away his unshed tears. “That’s not why I left.”

“Then why?” he breathes.

You purse your lips, biting at the inside of your cheek as you reflect on those lonely nights spent under cold blankets. “You’re a hero,” you speak slowly. “I never had a place in your life, Shoto, not really. I’m a nobody. If… If I stayed, I would have been holding you back. You deserved more than that.”

Shoto narrows his eyes at you. “I deserve you,” he blurts, his tongue stained with vexation at the mere implication of your words. You watch as his lower lip wobbles momentarily before he steels his expression. “It isn’t your place to decide whether or not you should be in my life. That’s something for me to decide, but you took that away from me.”

“Took what away, Shoto?” you exclaim, raising your voice for the first time that day. “The sex? The comradery? You could have easily found that in someone else.” It hurts to admit, but you know it’s true. During those days together, you were a mere placeholder for someone better than you. Someone who could relate to him more than a nobody civilian could ever hope to.

After all, Pro Hero Shoto could have anyone he wanted.

Any anger left in his body dissipates as his body tenses. His face scrunches into something painful, mouth ajar and eyes wide as his grip on your shoulders tightens slightly. “What?” he whispers, the word dripping from his tongue like ice water. “What are you talking about?” The room feels like it’s dropped a few degrees, and if the frost that clings to his skin is any indication, it might have.

Averting your gaze, you try to wedge yourself out of his tight hold, but he doesn’t let you, taking another step forward. You’re practically chest-to-chest as he shakes your shoulders gently. “What are you talking about?” he repeats with an urgent tongue. “Someone else? What are you talking about?”

You heave a sigh. “Don’t play dumb, Shoto. You’re… you. You could easily find someone to replace me.”

“Is that what you think?” he breathes harshly, steam rolling off his skin, melting the frost. “That you’re just some replaceable body in my bed? Do you really think that lowly of me?” His expression twists as he reaches up to cup your jaw. His touch is burning, and yet you find yourself leaning into his palm.

“Isn’t it the truth?” you murmur, your voice catching. “I’m not anyone special, Shoto.”

“You’re my girlfriend,” he spits out, angry at the notion that you were a nobody. “You’re special to me. Isn’t that all that matters? I couldn’t care less about the fact that you’re not a hero. That never mattered to me, so don’t give me that bullshit.”

Your eyes snap open as you stare at Shoto in shock. You feel your body freeze over, and suddenly, your lungs are empty. “... What did you call me?” you croak.

Shoto stares deeply into your eyes, his own darting back and forth as he tries to read you. “My girlfriend.” His voice wavers as he tries to understand why you look so confused.

“We weren’t dating,” you cry incredulously. “What are you talking about?” You watch Shoto as realization washes over his distraught expression and something within you cracks. “Shoto, what are you talking about?” you ask again with a frantic pull to your voice. Shoto’s hands slip from your shoulders.

“Weren’t we?” he whispers quietly, any strength sapping from his body as he limply stands before you.

With your heart beating faster than ever, your breath leaves chapped lips in uneven puffs of strangled air. “We never talked about being anything more than just…” You trail off, the past couple of years draping over your shoulders, weighing you down heavily.

“You thought I was with you for the sex?” Shoto doesn’t know how to feel or how to act. His face twists as several emotions run through him before his mind settles on heartache. His multicoloured eyes try to meet yours, but you’ve already looked away. He moves his body, craning his neck to take a good look at you. He wants to see you. He wants you to see him. He utters your name in a broken whisper. “It was never just sex for me, baby,” he declares, his voice cracking in sorrow. “You had to have known that.”

He moves closer, cradling your face as he gently forces you to look at him. When he sees the indecisive glaze that’s taken over your eyes, he feels his heart break just a little more. “Please tell me you knew. That you know it was more than that.”

You blink away tears, your chest rising and falling quickly as you meet his intensive gaze. “You’d only come to me at night,” you mutter, caught between wanting to lean into his touch and wanting to pull his hands off of you. “You never stayed. You were always gone in the morning, Shoto. What was I supposed to believe?”

Shoto fights back a wince as he mulls over your words. He sighs, absentmindedly rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs. “I was so busy with hero work,” he murmurs in horror-filled realization, frowning at himself. He shakes his head, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. “That’s not an excuse. I should have tried harder to be around. But it was never just sex for me.”

His throat bobs as he swallows thickly, his forehead coming down to rest against yours. His eyes flutter closed, wet eyelashes sticking together as he lets out a trembling breath. “Please believe me, baby,” he pleads quietly. “I’ll be better. I’ll show you I love you. I’ll make sure you know this time, so please…”

Those three words pull the air from your lungs, but when he opens his eyes, you’re left truly breathless. Love, sorrow, and regret swirl in his blue and grey hues. You don’t remember the last time you’ve looked at Shoto like this. “Please come back to me.”

“Shoto—”

“I’ll stop being a hero,” he interrupts you, a deep frown tugging at his lips. “If that’s what it takes.”

You make a face, your brows knitting together tightly. “Don’t be stupid, Shoto,” you hush. “Being a hero is your life. I’d never ask you to throw that away for me.”

“You’re my life,” he presses. One of Shoto’s hands moves to cup the back of your head, carding through your hair. “Our child will be my life. You matter more to me than anything else.”

Sighing, you close your eyes as you lean into his touch. “I’d be even more upset if you gave up,” you murmur. “I understand that being a hero leaves you with little free time. So—”

“No,” Shoto cries out. “Don’t make excuses for me. I should’ve tried harder. I should have realized things between us weren’t clear.” He pauses for a moment, his brow bone tensing as he bites at his lip. “Do you love me?”

With a softened gaze, you knock on his forehead with a weak fist. “You’ve always been it for me, Sho.”

Shoto smiles at the nickname, a slight tick of the corner of his mouth. If you hadn’t been so close and hadn’t known his expressions as well as you did, you might’ve missed it. He leans closer, his nose brushing against your cheek as he kisses your tear-stained skin sweetly. “I love you,” he hushes, tugging you closer. His fingertips trail up your spine until they’re entwined in your hair. “I love you.”

A shiver runs down your spine at the sensation as you curl into him. Your hands trail up his broad chest as you wrap your arms around his neck. Inhaling deeply, you stare at him in hesitation. “Is this real?” you murmur, your mind swirling with the vivid dreams you’ve procured over the years. “You’re really here, right? And you really…”

“I love you,” he says again. He says it one, two, three more times, whispering into the side of your neck and he nudges himself into the empty space. His lips, which are cold against your blistering heat, brush against your earlobe as he all but whimpers your name. “This is real. I’m here, baby.”

You can’t help but believe him, your eyes closing as he presses kiss after kiss on your skin, moving down your neck until he’s reached your collarbones. He nips at the spot, his tongue jutting out to soothe the darkening mark he’s left behind. “Sho,” you scold weakly, your nails scraping against his scalp gently as you brush his hair out of his face.

Shoto grins boyishly at you, his hands resting on your hips as he guides you backwards, stepping over the forgotten pillow you dropped. “Let me show you,” he breathes out, looking down at you with wide eyes until he has you sat on the edge of your unmade bed. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

Then, he pauses, a brief flash of bashfulness flickering behind his embering gaze. “Please?”

You’re reaching out for him before you can answer, tugging him down to your height. You don’t reply with words, pressing desperate lips against his as you pull him over you until he’s pinned over your trembling body. Strong forearms rest beside your head, his skillful tongue swiping along the seam of your mouth. You almost moan at his taste—a taste you never forgot.

Shoto slants himself against you, your bodies resembling a mess of limbs. He flips you over with ease, strong hands gripping your hips to seat you atop his shaking lap. The shivers that run down the expanse of his body don’t go unnoticed, and you peck his lips once, then twice, before pulling away. He’s staring up at you breathlessly, lust-blown eyes dark but widened as he takes in the sight of you.

“Are you okay?” you whisper, stroking along the edge of his scar. Shoto leans into your palm, his eyes briefly fluttering closed, relishing in your warmth that he was deprived of for so long.

“I’m okay,” he murmurs back, brushing his lips against your palm. “I’ve just missed you so much.”

Your heart aches at his soft-spoken admission, and you kiss him again to tell him I missed you, too. This kiss is sweeter than the last, softer in its closed-mouth motions. His hand reaches up to palm your jawline, his other remaining on your hip. He sighs into you, breaking the kiss to leave fleeting pecks over your cheeks. “My pretty girl,” he whispers into your skin.

His hand trails up and down your side, as he gently pushes you against his growing erection. You let out a whimper at just how hard he already is, the tent pushing against your clothed cunt teasingly. Grinding your hips down, you relish in the gasp Shoto lets out. Busying his hands with the hem of your loose tee, he pushes himself off of the bed to chase your lips.

Shoto kisses you with a fervour you damned yourself for running away from. He kisses you like he needs your taste on his tongue to live, like you’re a lifeline, and he’s teetering on the edge. Gentle teeth scrape against your bottom lip, just barely grazing your swollen skin. Pulling away to rid you of your top, Shoto bites his lips at the sight of your bare chest. He lays back, propping his head up on your pillows. Tracing a hand down his strong pecs, you tilt your head back at the sight of his complete enamour.

Red cheeks hollow as he takes in a shuddering breath, looking up at you with nothing but love and adoration. “You’re perfect,” he breathes out, his hands tracing your sides so slowly. His thumbs, calloused from years of hero work, barely graze the underside of your breasts before his hands trail back down to your thighs.

“Take these off f’me,” Shoto urges, tugging gently on the fabric of your shorts. Those dark eyes never leave your face, as though he’s committing it to memory. 

You don’t hesitate to obey his request, shifting off of his lap just enough to tug off the last of your clothing, fingers dipping beneath the band of your panties to take them off as well. Shivering, you sit back down on his lap, biting down on your bottom lip as you lean back. Shoto makes it clear how much he appreciates the view you’ve given him, his lustful gaze caressing your entire self. His eyes land on the apex of your thighs, and his bitten lips part in admiration.

A wide hand rests on your tummy, just below your belly button, as he gently pushes your hips back and forth. His other hand finds its way to your ass, gripping and rubbing the skin there in tandem with your movements. 

You let out shallow breaths at the feeling of his rough jeans against your bare clit. You’re sure you’re sopping wet already, soaking the front of his pants with your slick, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when he’s looking at you like he’d cry if you stopped grinding down on him.

His eyes stay glued to where your hips meet, and he whispers your name lovingly. “C’mere,” he rasps out as he sits up with haste, wrapping those big arms around your midsection and pulling you even closer to him. Shoto kisses the tops of your breasts, moving up and up until his lips meet yours again in a searing kiss. 

“Missed you s’much,” he gravels out against your lips, reaching up to cup your left tit. You whimper out when his thumb brushes against the hardened bud, his tongue following shortly after. His lips curl around your nipple as he kneads into you. Breaths leave your throat in shortened huffs as he bites down gently. 

Pushing you gently, you find yourself on your back again with Shoto hovering over you. He lets go of your nipple with a pop, lips shiny with saliva as he kisses down your stomach. Arching into his affections, all you can do is lay there and bask in his gentle touches and sweet kisses.

“Sho,” you whimper out when he mouths your skin lower and lower. Strong hands push your hips up until your dripping cunt is in front of his face, and your legs are dangling over his shoulders. Your back arches deeply, his fingers digging into your sides to keep your bottom half suspended in the air. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you’ve gotten—you can’t recall the last time you’ve felt this aroused. “Please…”

Shoto smiles at you softly, looking at you through his lashes as he brushes his lips against your clit, making you jolt. “Patience, baby,” he chuckled. “I haven’t tasted your sweet pussy in too long. Let me take my time with you, yeah?”

When he asks so nicely, how can you refuse?

He leaves open-mouthed kisses where your inner thigh meets your pelvis, kissing and licking just around where you need him most. Pathetic moans slip through your wobbling lips as you press them together, trying not to be too loud. Your body is goo in his hands, and he knows this well. He easily keeps your back arched up off the bed, his beefy arms not straining at all.

When his lips finally close on your weeping cunny, you cry out louder than intended. “Shh,” he whispers, sitting back just far enough to leave you whimpering for more. “Don’t wanna wake the baby, do you?” Those teasing eyes meet yours again, and his teasing expression softens ever so slightly at your already fucked out look. “Be good and quiet f’me, love.”

“Okay,” you stammer out, screwing your eyes shut when he kitten licks at your slit.

Shoto kisses your inner thigh with a grin. “Good girl.”

Without missing a beat, he attaches his lips to your pussy once more, his skilled tongue licking and prodding exactly where he knows it makes your legs shake in pleasure. He eats you out with such expertise as if it hasn’t been over two years. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had a map of your body memorized.

Long, thick fingers push at your entrance, just barely pushing in before pulling out. “More, please,” you beg under your breath, arching into his mouth. “Please, Sho. I can take it.”

Shoto hums as he sucks on your clit gently, drawing circles over the bundle of nerves immediately after. “I know you can, baby. This pussy was made just for me,” he sighs into you, the loud slurping noises coming from the point of contact making you curl in on yourself. “You were made just for me, baby.”

He finally pushes two fingers in, curling up just how you like it. He groans as his tongue moves with ardour, his eyes rolling back behind closed lids as he savours your taste. “Fuck,” he mumbles. “Missed this s’much.” 

Shoto’s fingers push in and out, in and out, your slick gushing around them as the filthy sound of your clenching cunt fills the room. His lips are glued to your clit, drunk on your wetness as he fingers you deeply. 

“I’m close,” you warn him, gripping the sheets tightly. Your body jerks, your thighs shaking and closing around his head as you feel the string in your tummy grow taught. “Sho—”

“I know,” he growls, kissing your clit again as he looks back up at you. He watches your face twist and scrunch in pure pleasure, moaning at the sight. Pushing a third finger in, his eyes slip closed at the feeling of you clenching tightly around him. “Come for me, baby. Need to feel you come.”

His voice drips with honey, coating your body in its warmth as your back bends. “Fuck,” you cry, slapping a hand over your mouth as your thighs tremble hard. “I—”

Before you can say anything else, you’re cumming around his fingers harder than you ever have in the time away from him. Fat tears line your lashline as he fingers you through your orgasm, lazily licking figure eights around your clit as he continues to push his fingers into you gently. He doesn’t stop, making you come again and again until you’re weakly pushing his head away.

His tongue laps your pussy clean, the lower half of his face covered in your slick when he finally sits back. You watch with lidded eyes as he wraps his lips around his fingers, his tongue jutting out to lick them until they’re no longer soaked with your essence. Moaning, you reach up for him, grasping weakly at his clothed chest. “Need you,” you plea, pushing at his clothes in a sad attempt to take them off.

Shoto only chuckles, leaning over to kiss you. He tastes of mint and musk, the taste of your come on his tongue making your eyes cross. He holds you tight, pressing you against his chest, and his hands run up and down the length of your spine. His head tilts, his mouth ajar as he licks into your wet cavern. 

Leaning back, you kiss and lick at his face, cleaning him of your juices. He only sighs blissfully at your ministrations, stroking your hair out of your face as he presses his lips against your temple. “I love you,” he murmurs. “God, do I love you.”

You leave one more kiss along his jaw, settling back onto the mattress as you look up at him. His hair is messy, tousled from the many breathless kisses you’ve exchanged in the last hour. His rouge-tinted cheeks make him look younger than he is, yet you can see fine lines at the corners of his eyes and between his brows. 

“I love you, Sho,” you declare softly, tucking his long bangs behind his ears. He gazes at you with more affection than you think you’ve ever seen him express, and it takes everything in you not to combust on the spot. You trail one hand down his chest, dropping down to his tented pants. Palming his clothed hardness, you glance at him pleadingly, smiling at the moan he emits the second your hand grazes his hard-on. “I need you now, please.”

Shoto nods, kissing the crown of your head before leaning back. You watch with careful eyes as he undresses, his hands moving with less grace than he’s known for. As he fumbles off his shirt, you unbuckle his belt, throwing it haphazardly across the room. You barely register the thud it makes as you tug down his pants. His hard cock slaps against his abdomen, coated with precum. 

Fully nude, you sit back to admire Shoto in his entirety. There are many scars you don’t remember littered over his muscled body, and your fingers trace them gently. “I almost forgot how pretty you are,” you say, sitting up to kiss his collarbone.

“Pretty?” he repeats, laughing softly as he grips at your waist.

You hum. “Very pretty, Sho.” 

Unable to wait any longer, he manoeuvres you back onto the pillows, adjusting you as he places one beneath your hips. “Gotta have you now, baby,” he groans into you, reaching down to fuck into his fist. You watch with wide eyes as he rubs himself for a moment more, pushing your thighs up against your chest. 

Pushing his angry cockhead against your slit, he thrusts shallowly against your soaked pussy. A low moan rumbles out of his throat when his head catches on the hood of your clit. He uses a thumb to guide his length to your entrance, a whimper of your name tumbling from those bite-swollen lips once he finally pushes into you.

Your jaw drops as a wanton noise claws out of your throat. Shoto is sure to move slowly, only moving in an inch of his dick at a time before pulling out. You had forgotten how thick Shoto’s cock is, the stretch of your swollen pussy around his length burning through your body. “S-Sho…”

He groans at your voice, dropping his head to your shoulder as he fucks into you slowly. “I know, baby,” he lets out breathlessly. “I know. You’re doing so well f’me.” 

His hips finally press against you after some time, his dick pushing against your pulsing gummy walls. He stills, letting you get used to the intrusion as he kisses you again and again. Propping himself on his elbows, he shakily brushes your hair out of your face, kissing your forehead. “You okay, baby?”

Nodding fervently, you wrap your arms around his neck, pushing his chest flush against yours. “Yeah.” Your voice comes out weakly, barely above a whisper. “You can move—” correcting yourself, you look up at him with pleading eyes. “—please move.”

Without another word, he pulls out slowly, only to thrust back into your hole nice and deep. A loud groan leaves his lips as he settles into a quick tempo, his hips slapping against the back of your thighs as he starts to really fuck into you. 

Barely keeping your eyes open, you watch his expression twist with gratification, his brows tilting upwards as his lips part. With lidded eyes, he watches you, too. “You’re—fuck—so pretty,” he whimpers, pressing his forehead against yours as his thrusts become faster. “Missed you. Missed you s’much.”

Sitting up, he grabs at your waist as he fucks you zealously. His thumb flicks at your clit, rubbing tight circles that leave your legs shaking. His cockhead rubs at that spongey spot in your cunt with every thrust, making your eyes roll back. “Sho,” you cry out, the thought of keeping your voice down long gone in your pleasure. “Sho, Sho—!”

His mouth opens as he lets out a stunted shout riddled with lust and overstimulation. “You’re so fucking tight,” he grins down at you, his stomach flexing with each movement of his hips. “Fuck, baby. Can feel you clenching around me s’tight. Are you close?” His words come out harshly, exertion tugging them from his throat sluggishly.

His thumb never stops over your clit, moving in tandem with his hips as he slams into you. Unable to form coherent words, you can only cry out in vague confirmation, grabbing at his forearms. You can feel your slick dripping down the slope of your ass, soaking into your pillow and the sheets beneath you. 

Shoto’s smile falters as he feels his own orgasm near, his rhythm becoming desperate as his eyes screwed shut. His head drops, his mouth opening slightly as he chases his high. When your cunt grips tightly around him, he’s sure he’s going to lose it. Harsh breaths heave out of him, his flushed skin causing his hair to stick to his forehead. 

“Come for me again, baby,” he begs, barely able to pry his lids open to look down at you. “Please, come, please, please… Gotta feel you…!”

Whether it’s from his words, the whimpering tone that tugs at his voice, or the way his cock throbs inside you as he nears his own high, you feel your orgasm crash over you in waves. “Shoto,” you sob, your body jerking violently as you come hard. He lets out a high-pitched groan as he releases inside you, his thick seed filling you up in seconds. His hips tremble and twitch as he keeps shallowly thrusting, pushing both you and himself into overstimulation.

“I love you,” he mewls, pressing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss as he wraps his arms tightly around your middle. Without pulling out, he slumps over you, knocking the air out of your lungs.

Laughing quietly, you weakly push at his shoulder. “You’re heavy,” you complain, still breathless from the countless orgasms he’s pulled you through. “Get off, Sho.”

“No,” he murmurs into the nape of your neck, cuddling into you tightly. “Don’t wanna let go.”

You roll your eyes. “You can hug me without crushing my ribs.”

Huffing, he rolls off of you, taking you with him as he lands on his back. You both groan lowly at the movement, his dick twitching inside you once you settle onto his lap again. “You’re insatiable,” you comment, feeling him thrust weakly up into your wetness.

Shoto only grins up at you, showing off that rare smile you missed so dearly. “You can’t blame me,” he tells you, wrapping his arms around you. “I have so many years of love to show you.” He kisses your shoulder. “I meant it. Before, I mean. You are everything to me, and I know our baby will be too.”

Your eyes wet again, fresh tears bubbling at the corners before dribbling down your cheeks. “Shoto…”

Looking up at you, he stares with an indescribable look in his mismatched eyes. “I wanna be in your life. I want to be in his life, too, if you’ll let me.” Leaning up, he kisses you sweetly. “So, please, come back to me.”

You only manage to nod tearfully before the shrill cry of your baby echoes throughout the house. Shoto eases you off his messy cock, watching as his release dribbles out of you. He lets out a breath, kissing you sweetly before moving you off of him gently. No words are exchanged as Shoto throws his clothes back on, wrinkled and unkempt. He pauses to wipe you clean, using your shirt, after throwing you an apologetic glance.

A smile reaches your eyes as you watch Shoto bound out of the room to get your child.

©AVATARCHIC please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

[lizzy06]

Shouta Aizawa Fics Recs!!(Tumblr/Ao3/Wattpad)

My Hero Academia Fic Rec Masterlist

Shouta Aizawa x Reader

FIVE TIMES ✨by @damnzawa (oneshot, fluff) In which the faculty at U.A. — ehem Present Mic and Midnight — and 1-A tried to get the two of them together, only to find out they were together all along.

How Convenient by mighty-mighty-man (Pair_Up)(oneshot, humor(?))The night shift at the convenience store was going so well. You got to hear some good tunes, you made a sale, you made conversation with a handsome hero. But then a robber shows up. [COMPLETED]

Lazy Egg ✨✨by mighty-mighty-man (Pair_Up) (slice of life, fluff)You work at an animal shelter.When Aizawa Shouta adopts your favorite cat, your lives become inexplicably intertwined. And strangely enough, it all seems to be for the better.[COMPLETED]

“did he steal two babies?”✨ by @bakugohoex (oneshot, fluff)in which you’re aizawa’s secret wife, aizawa gets a call in the middle of class that you’re going into labor and eventually leaves, the class being noisy pricks follows him to a hospital, feeling worried they continue to follow until they see him holding two babies with a smile at his new family. [COMPLETED]

Victory by @bnhascribbles (oneshot, fluff) Just a fluffy story about you and your husband. [COMPLETED]

Chocolate hearts✨ by LetheSomething  (fluff, sloeburn, angst, serial killers)A group of villains calling themselves the Valentine Killers are going around murdering people.Their target? Pro hero loved ones. Aizawa Shouta is utterly convinced he has nothing to worry about. He's wrong. [COMPLETED]

Stray Cats. Aizawa Shouta x fem!reader ✨by http_vanished (kinda enemies to lovers , fluff, angst)A man under the alias ‘Eraserhead’ is your favourite author of all timeAs part of your bucket list, you write him a letter expressing your admiration. Never in a thousand years did you expect a rely, inviting you over for dinner to meet him, all-expense paid for. However things don’t go exactly as you planned as the man you idolised for years turns out to be grumpy, scruffy man with an appalling attitude.[COMPLETED]

Lucky Cat ✨by kalpa (oneshot, fluff, humor, slice of life, smut)You're utterly convinced your quirk is having shit luck and attracting trouble everywhere you go. Thankfully, a certain underground hero is always there to save the day.[COMPLETED]

Hurting Together by  @dira333 /Fogfire(oneshot, sorta humor(?))You meet in the waiting room of a Clinic, but opening up about your respective illnesses isn't as easy as you might have thought. Or how Aizawa makes an ass of himself because he tries to flirt on painkillers.[COMPLETED]

Caught in Love by @mooncademia (oneshot, fluff, kinda secret relationship)After getting a job offer at U.A, your love life w/ Aizawa has officially transferred to school. And you loved it.

The Cat and the Key (Aizawa x Reader) by EVoDanger (oneshot, fluff, slowburn)The most wanted woman in town has announced that she'll only marry the one who can open her front door with the key around her cat's neck. Many men try to hunt the cat down, chase and trap it, but to no avail. The cat is simply too quick, smart and clever, and always finds a way to evade and avoid them.[COMPLETED]

suffer the signs ✨by advantagetexas (oneshot, hanahaki au, angst with happy ending)You begin coughing up petals soon after beginning work as the new UA nurse. You know what they are, you know why they're afflicting you, but you refuse to let them control you.[COMPLETED]

Quirk Smirk by Meldy_Writes (fluff, humor)Quirkless Female Reader moves to Musutafu to reconnect with her estranged sister, Inko, and her newfound nephew, Izuku. everything is going fine until she learns that her kind-of-attractive-kind-of-a-dick neighbor is a pro-hero… and also her nephew's homeroom teacher.[COMPLETED]

But they're soft... by coffee_dessert (fluff, humor)When a black cat is found unconscious in the pouring rain, what's a good samaritan to do? In which the reader takes care of Aizawa after he's been affected by a transformation Quirk.[COMPLETED]

What a Cliché by kingyohna (flowershop au, fluff, slowburn, mutual pinning)Aizawa doesn't know much about pop culture, but he knows it's a definite cliché to fall for someone working in a flower shop.[COMPLETED]

Together, Always. by kalpa (oneshot, soulmate au, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst)Ever since you were young, you've done what's expected of you. But after a chance meeting with a hero and after saving two cats, you begin to wonder just what you truly want out of life.[COMPLETED]

Fill my little world (right up) by tsumoo  (single parent aizawa, nanny! reader, fluff, family feels)you are employed by aizawa shouta to nanny for his vulnerable adoptive daughter eri while he’s at work. as time passes you find yourself equally smitten with them both, longing for a more permanent place in their family.[COMPLETED]

Breathless by Mishme(oneshot, fluff, hurt/comfort) In which you experience the different types of kisses from the pro hero, Eraserhead.[COMPLETED]

Chocolate Milk by MariaTheBrave(oneshot, fluff)“Mr. Aizawa,” Mina broke from the others and made a beeline to her teacher, “why didn’t you tell us you have a kid?!”[COMPLETED]

The Reaper (Aizawa x female reader) by Emltar (fluff, smut, enemies to lovers, trauma)You're a teacher at UA with a tragic past trying to keep some semblance of peace in your shattered life. Can a grumpy caterpillar break through your defenses or will you lose yourself completely?[COMPLETED]

Newfound by mysoftestecho (strangers to friends to lovers, smut, fluff)You move to a new town to start teaching at UA. It's a new life for you and you're excited to see what it brings.[COMPLETED]

Home is where you are by speia(oneshot, fluff, comfort)Just a casual Valentine's Day[COMPLETED]

Puzzle Pieces ✨by iimber(fluff, angst, mutual pinning, stalker)Years of piecing together your life to the point were it's near perfect come crashing down when you gain an extremely dedicated stalker. After coming to a head, you leave your life in Tokyo to seek safety back in Musutafu. [ONGOING<idk could be discontinued too😭>]

Shouta Aizawa x Emi Fukukado(Ms. Joke)

But I remember you✨✨ by JackieMoonshine (oneshot, fluff, humor)A fun EraserJoke one-shot that struggles with whether it wants to be a comedy or drama. Either way, I like it.[COMPLETED]

A Happy Family with Never-Ending Laughter ✨by Yojimbra (domestic fluff, humor, smut)In order to raise Eri properly, Eraserhead seeks help from the one person he can trust. Ms. Joke.Eri is so screwed.[COMPLETED]

Nature, Nurture, and Chocolate Milk  by  Nuclear_Equipped_ Walking _ Battle_Tank (oneshot, fluff, humor, izuku and shinsou are brothers)The Aizawa family goes shopping . An appropriate amount of tomfoolery ensues. [COMPLETED]

this sudden burst of sunlight, and me with my umbrella  by  lettersfromnowhere (fluff, angst, family feels)the one where Eri gets a mom, Aizawa gets a headache, Emi adopts half of UA, and laughter really is the best medicine.[COMPLETED]

he hadn't the time by ohmytheon (oneshot, friends to lovers, bad at feelings)Over the ten years that Shota has known Emi Fukukado, she has been far too loud, bubbly, bright, and positive for his taste. She's probably one of the most annoying people he knows. She is also an extremely capable hero and an excellent teacher. There has to be a reason that their paths keep meeting and it has to be more than just to drive him crazy.[COMPLETED] he took the time by ohmytheon (oneshot, smut, fluff)If Emi keeps joking about Shouta taking her home, one of these nights he's going to take her up on that offer. Turns out, it's not a joke at all, not one bit.[COMPLETED]

Bursting with Laughter, Blooming in Flowers✨ by dracula420 (hanahaki au, angst with happy ending, fluff)Emi Fukukado loves jokes. She’s got a million of ‘em. You ever heard the one about the girl that repressed her unrequited love until it turned into a disease? That ones a classic.[COMPLETED]

The Last Laugh ✨✨by FeralPen (friends to lovers, temp. unrequited love, fluff, light angst) Emi Fukukado had two goals in life: become the hero who makes everyone smile, and crack Eraserhead's shell to make him laugh. Getting a date along the way would just be a bonus.[COMPLETED]

Sands and eyelashes by Iamanormalperson(misunderstanding, pinning) Eraserhead and Ms. Jokes had taken down a villain. That's it, but the others saw something else.[COMPLETED]

Inside Joke by Huinari  (oneshot, fluff)Five times Ms. Joke asked Eraserhead to marry her, and one time she didn’t.[COMPLETED]

Subtle Like a Lion’s Cage by aactionjohnny(fluff, mutual pinning, hurt/comfort)Ketsubutsu is under construction, so the students are staying at UA. Unfortunately for Aizawa, that also means Ms. Joke will be around.[COMPLETED]

Never Again (but maybe I'll give you a chance) by SplashingInPonds (oneshot, feels)After a disastrous mess of emotions and a big joke at his expense in high school, Shouta Aizawa decided that he was never going to let himself feel that way again. That is until he meets a persistent woman with sea green hair that seems to actually hold something genuine underneath her overly jovial hero persona.[COMPLETED]

I’m Ms. Joke: Ask Me Anything! by dracula420(oneshot, humor) Aizawa lurks the internet and finds a rather interesting topic on a very famous forum site.[COMPLETED]

make your move by velvari (smut)Mr. Aizawa finally makes a move on Ms. Joke.[COMPLETED]

Drinking Makes the Truth Come Out by The_Sensei_Simp (oneshot, jealousy, fluff) Two years after the war, the Pro-Hero teachers of U.A. High School go out for drinks to celebrate their summer vacation, since they had not in a while. What happens when Shouta Aizawa runs into Ms. Joke the Smile Hero AKA Emi Fukakado, who catches his attention when a coworker of hers is too friendly with her and it makes him jealous?[COMPLETED]

[azaarchiive]

fanfic bakugou vs real size

sypnosis; katsuki finds you reading a fanfic about him

notes; suggestive, gn reader, fluff with katsukiii, long term established relationship, bakugo is a little ooc. 733 words

inspired by: @officialabortive (i tried to find the drabble but i couldn’t find it! anyways go show them some loveee)

‘katsuki’s muscular arms trapped you in between him and the kitchen island, his hot breath caressing your neck before you felt him speak.

“do you know why i call myself dynamite?” he whispered seductively.

“why?” you meekly responded, slowly turning to face him.

he leans closer to your ears before whispering,

“because i blow my load in bitches like you.” ’

soon, a loud laugh could be heard behind you, ripping you from your very steamy fantasy. only for you to realise the man himself was behind you, laughing his ass off.

“suki, w-what the fuck?! you scared me!” you stumbled over your words, shame spreading across your whole body.

“i can’t fucking believe i walked in on my partner reading this shit! oh fuck, i’m getting abs!” katsuki continued to cackle while you covered your face in embarrassment. this was the worst way to get caught.

“i was just interested! i was online and i saw that this was apparently the dynamite fanfic that everyone was raging over!” you attempted to defend yourself, but your excuses fell onto deaf ears and the sound of his obnoxious laughter getting louder to drown you out.

“i just can’t believe this, baby, you have the real thing right here!” katsuki climbed onto the couch with you, leaning his arm on the top of the couch while resting his chin on his fist.

“i know that, like i said, i was just interested!” you huffed.

“that line was insane though, maybe ill steal it next time. would you be into that? me ‘blowing my load’ into you?” katsuki smiled, trying to hide your laughter.

but your shy smile as you looked away just broke any restraint he had, and thus, he was bursting out laughing again.

“oh my god, you liked it, didn’t you?” katsuki accused.

“no i didn’t!” you whined, playfully pushing katsuki who barely even moved an inch.

“yes you did, look at how flustered your getting!” katsuki pointed at your face.

“oh come off it!” you slapped his finger away, picking up your phone again and turning away to have him face your back.

“going off to read more?” katsuki teased.

you stayed silent, sighing playfully as katsuki (unbeknownst to you) widened his mouth in shock.

“listen… the writing is really good!” you defended yourself whilst laughing.

“it was probably written by a 14 year old girl!” he exclaimed back to you.

“no actually, the writer here just turned 20.” you huffed.

“im still in shock, you have the katsuki bakugou in front of you, wiling to do whatever you want, yet you chose him. the guy with cheesy lines!” katsuki complained.

“don’t be jealous katsuki, it’s just that the storylines are so captivating. like, in one of them, you were a barista and i was a ceo- can i please explain the storyline properly without you laughing?” you paused while smiling as katsuki wheezed in front of you.

after a few second, he nodded, covering his mouth to contain whatever laughter he had left in him so you could continue.

“thank you, anyways, i was a ceo and you were the coffee barista and we fell in love over time since i kept coming back because the coffee you made was always really good. but then, your jealous ex, which was me actually, came and told me that you both were still dating and that you were just using me for my money. so then, i fell out of love for you, but then, 2 years later, you had graduated from UA and became a pro hero and saved me, so then we fell in love again and got married.” you explained.

“wait, they include you in these little stories?” katsuki asked.

“yep, im usually the jealous ex or the supportive best friend.” you replied.

“these people are so pathetic, you’re mine and always will be.” katsuki said, lunging at you, trapping you in a bear hug.

you screamed in laughter as he trapped you in his lethal hugs, the scent of his cologne wafting in your nose.

“you’re right, i’m your forever!” you giggled in his arms.

“exactly, don’t need no fanfic to tell you otherwise.” his voice was muffled as his face was in his neck.

god, you loved this man and no other fanfic version of him could ever capture how he was with you.

[tinyidle]

Alr I've thought about this a lot: Dom Yuqi x Fem reader smut fic (Yuqi is g!p only if your comfortable with it) where R is a former stylist and is now manager for G-idle and during a concert, (can't decide between Nxde era or Tomboy era so your pick) there's a wardrobe malfunction with Yuqi's outfit and all stylists already left so R has to help her and Yuqi seduces her and it ends with the members going where tf are they and they see both of them and realize what actually went down cus it sure as hell wasn't R helping Yuqi (not in that way at least ;) )

(Also R calling Yuqi mommy bcs she is and no one can tell me otherwise)

degradation kink if possible

word goal: 1000

goal accomplished?: yupp; 1.3 k

😁😁

I Just Know You Did This On Purpose - SYQ

WARNING: smut ofc, public-ish sex (they sort of get caught), begging, inappropriate horniness, mommy kink, praising degradation bratty!yuqi, switchdom!yuqi, g!p yuqi, b!g d¡ck gigi all my 'characters' with d*cks will never have small ones, bratty-yet-compliant reader, switchsub!reader, fem reader, fiction

it was the 'tomboy' promotions, the first comeback they had in over a year, yet (g)i-dle were being warmly welcomed by all the loving support from fans and idol counterparts alike. you especially liked it since you get to see your girlfriend in action while in korea, not just china.

they had tons of gigs and shows to do, and were to have a world tour soon. what you loved about all this was that you were managing the entirety of their schedules, making sure they got adequate rest and had tons of fun while practicing and performing.

in one college concert, the staff were running back and forth for yuqi-- specifically the stylists. one by one each one was leaving for their lunch break, while one was particularly struggling with the costume piece.

"ugh! i cant find shorts that'll fix this problem," you heard one of the stylists exclaim. you were about to walk over to ask what the problem was until you saw the stylists towards you. "can you please help us with this problem, sunbaenim?" you nodded and headed towards yuqi.

checking to see what the problem was, you asked the rest of the members and staff to clear the room. "i can handle this, but i need everyone to leave and go to the practice stage and monitor the girls as they dance to make sure their clothes don't malfunction. got it?"

idle and the staff politely agreed, bowed, and left to do practice. when the room was silent with only the two of you, you kneeled down. "okay, let's see what's the pro-

-blem," you rolled your eyes.

what made you and the stylists concerned was literally nothing more than a yuqi-problem than an actual wardrobe malfunction.

your girlfriend was horny.

unfortunately, when the brightly-colored haired girl got hard, her bulge would be all but unnoticeable. and no other place would be appropriate for her to be having thoughts to encourage her current wood than here, but alas, here it was, straining against her jeans.

you frowned and began to scold the taller woman. "how the fuck am i supposed to get this fixed before your stage?" as you felt a hand come and caress your face, you quickly swatted it away. "not now gigi," you warned.

yuqi pouted as you snorted at your cockblocking your girlfriend. "pleaseee," she tried pleading with you. "i need my baby in order for this to go away."

you weren't having it. "go rub one off and then ill see you later." you got up and attempted to head out the door. until you found out it was locked. you turned around and saw yuqi's pants to her knees, panties also down; her thick, long shaft slightly swinging back and forth like a pendulum. "did you-"

"i told shuhua to lock the door on the way out," yuqi explained. with a stretch of her hand and a curl of her finger, she motioned you to 'come hither', or, in layman's terms, come towards her. there was no way you could get out of this now, so you decide to heed to the action and, well, hither.

"you know that my cock's too big to 'rub one off,'" yuqi quoted you mockingly with air quotes as you scoffed. "besides, the only thing that get me off is your, tight, warm pussy."

you, getting instantly turned on by yuqi's expletive seduction, tried hard to not show it. but it failed because you found yourself kneeling down, pumping yuqi's aching cock.

"mmh, just like that, sweetie," she praised you. "stroke it just like that. my perfect whore." you were swift yet precise: not a crevice of skin was left untouched, the base was given as much care as the meaty tip, and your hands felt like baby's skin to yuqi.

she was soon to bust on your face if you didn't put it in your mouth. "put my dick in your mouth, sweetie," yuqi instructed you. and so you did. at first you struggled to get her girth in, but with tons of practice (which is what the chinese woman should have been doing with her members at the moment), you were deepthroating her within the one minute it took for yuqi to lose it and nut in your tight mouth.

as you pumped yuqi back to full hardness, yuqi whined. "let me taste you," yuqi begged, her hands going up and down your smooth legs through your tight-fitted jeans..

"oh no, yuqi. i gave you a blowjob; that's all you're getting from me." and yet, here you are now, bent over while yuqi was equally bent over your backside. she held each side of your ass cheeks, spreading them open to plunge her tongue deeper into your fluttering hole. you found yourself whimpering when you felt a manicured finger glide unto your clit and started rubbing small circles.

"s-ss-shit," you gasped, your essence pouring out of you as yuqi started kissing around your cunt and under-part of your thighs. after gaining your breath back, you turned your head around to look at your girlfriend who was still kissing you all over your bottom. "im done, gigi. now let's get you ready to practice. you only have about ten more minutes before- HEY!"

the woman wasn't having any of it, pushing you back down and putting your hands behind your back, securing it with her own two hands. "no way, sweetie," she said smugly, letting one hand go to hold her still-hard cock, rubbing it along your slit. "i need you. all of you."

you felt the surge of her dick into your hole, making you moan louder than you wanted. you did your best to whisper, "you planned this all along, did you?" instead of getting an immediate answer, you got to hear the frantic and pacing thrusts of yuqi into you, which made your eyes roll into the back of your head.

your girlfriend chuckled as she was hearing you fall apart for her. "maybe it was, maybe it wasn't," she finally answered, right when your mouth started quivering at your impending orgasm. "but it's worth it if i get to stuff you full, isn't it?"

using one of her hands again, she went to rub your clit, lowering her mouth down to suck marks into your skin. you started panting heavily. yuqi started to breathe heavily too, nearing her release, but she needed you to break first. "look at my perfect whore, all worked up because of my cock," she degraded towards you. you started whining. "aw, is she getting impatient? maybe you should beg for what you want."

as much as you wanted to scoff and tell the woman to 'fuck off', you couldn't take how your bud was being abused by her skillful slim fingers. not to mention her huge cock practically pounding in your hole. you decided to put your pride to the side and break. "please, mommy. please let me cum! i need it," you cried.

with a smile and a couple of angled thrusts, yuqi was satisfied. "good job, baby. now cum for mommy like the perfect whore you are."

..

by the time it was time to get ready for the show, the girls didn't see yuqi and was worried.

"shuhua, go get yuqi, please," soyeon instructed the maknae. bowing slightly, she practically ran to the dressing room, stunned to see both you and yuqi looking as if you were getting dressed.

when yuqi was about to explain herself, shuhua just put her hand up while closing her eyes. "it doesn't matter," she said, her eyes squeezing tight. "just get ready. we're all waiting for you."

both of you laughing, yuqi nodded and went outside. you, on the other hand, had to head to the bathroom as you felt your girlfriend's cum soaking through your panties.

might as well have titled it "perfect whore" or simply "no" lol. hopefully this gives anon what they wanted

[vipersiia]

XYX HEADCANONS

i have recently joined the bloomic discord and talked abt xyx, with,,, so many people and here r my headcanons, there are,,, a Lot of them and they are so so so fluffy i promise

OKAY SO FIRST OF ALL - he has such a thing for petnames, and will Melt if u reciprocate

absolute pro at not being able to take what he can dish out, dont fret though, he absolutely builds a tolerance

ironically uses terrible pet-names in public, if you use some on him he Will make it a competition and he Will win ("snookums here wants a refund on this." "yes sorry, mcdreamy here said it didn't look good on me" "oh schmoopy , how you wound me i did not sa that")

xyx is such a people-pleaser, so he Knows what you like and what you don't, he'll keep an eye on your expressions subtly ("hey babe why is there so much snack you really like in our pantry?" "it was on sale!")

he will Spoil you, he's not the type to spend a lot of money on himself but on You?? oh you better watch out

still careful with his money but if you're eyeing that bag, or pair of shoes, or poster, he will buy it for you.

even if you off-handedly comment wanting something, expect it in your arms Soon ("i saw this really cool poster at the mall today?" "oh really? what did it look like doll?" "it was like, of my favourite character holding their love interest" "oh thats very cool" schemes)

will absolutely do the evil villain chair in dark thing with Cat if you come home late ("i've been,, expecting you" "babe its 1 am what are you doing up?")

he knows your favourite drink, exactly how you like it, and it tastes perfect everytime. YOU NEVER TOLD HIM EITHER, he just had you try a buncha things and watched your reactions ("hey love, im trying out a new recipe, wanna try?" "of course!")

dont think about it but seeing him playing with cat, watching the muscles in his arm flex??? him Noticing you noticing and flexing a lil harder, before going all out, Cat meowing indignantly over his bicep???

stop thinking about xyx coming home from work, seeing you and Cat cuddling on the couch?? being so in love that he scored someone as amazing as you?? he is just, so so so, in love with you at the moment?? that he just, comes over, picking u both up and twirlin you around. Cat immediately, outraged bats him the face but he doesn't notice because you're giggling so hard rn

if he's meeting your parents??? ohhh be prepared, he is such a smooth talker and hes Proud. He comes in, nicest most neutral cologne, nice powersuit, a subtle chain necklace with your initial???

he is All smooth talk, keepin an eye out for any cues of like or dislike on topics, always complimenting whoever cooked

when getting to the Interrogation? oh he's Ready ("so what do you do for a living" "oh well i work as a lawyer, it makes me elated to be able to provide for mc like i can" "nice, nice" *visibly impressed*)

the car ride home after??? oh he is Menace, he is all grins, puffin out his chest like a bird ("doll they loOoooveee me" "did you see that? arent you proud love?") you're gonna have to keep saying yes but its okayyy because you're both sickeningly in love with eachother

him being hella cheesy, tellin u one day ("hey doll, i bet i can hold the entire universe in my hands" "what??") and immediately cupping your face??? pulling you into a soft kiss??

you keeping that in ur mind,,, ready to strike back?? sitting on the couch with him laying between them, cheek pressed into your thigh as you both play with Cat? when Cat leaves, leaning down and cupping his face in your hands??? ("you are so gorgeous babe") and he goes Red (mc - 1 / xyx - 4million), his breath Stops.

leaning down to kiss him??? catching him even more off-guard?? absolute knock-out. he tries so hard to play it off ("ill never be as gorgeous as you doll") but being sooo off his game? so caught off guard??

a sunshower happening, cue you, dancing in the rain like a madman??? him coming over and seeing you?? glad u cant see him because he is Positive he looks so sappy rn. eventually meeting his eye?? running up to him and grabbing him by the hand?? leading him into the rain?? he immediately takes over the dance, spinnin and twirlin you around.

pulling you into his arms?? arms resting on your hips as you grab him by the face?? pulling him into a kiss???? laughter breaking out between you two, as he peppers your face in kisses??

doing research on filipino wedding customs, finding out that you traditionally ask the parents for their blessing

ASKING XYX'S PARENTS FOR THEIR BLESSING?? going over to their house for a dinner plan, getting him distracted and asking his parents for their blessing??? planning the wedding with them??? burning the unity candle?? the rice toss?? the money dance???

at the altar, can't even get though the first line of his vows before he cries ( "and i, xyx tak-" *literally sobbing*)

DOING HARANA FOR HIM??? getting all the members of the bloomic server to participate, as you sing his praises? good at singing or not he is so choked up in giggly, hands over face ugly bawling

lighting the unity candle with him is a whole ordeal, neither of you can stay still long enough to keep the flame steady, almost lighting the tablecloth on fire

him holding you as close as you can fit against him?? teary eyed all over again because wow, he cant believe that you really wanted to marry him??

post first dance, as the night wanes, hiding behind the couples table, on the floor, in his arms??? as he feeds u mango sticky rice and vice versa???

sayin sum cheesy shit like ("oops i missed a spot, hold still love") before leaning in for a kiss??? not realizing the photographer AND videograper saw this and got it all in 4k??

the discord prompts that inspired me, thank u i luv u all(real)

[lu-sn]

Gremlin Macau for the prompt ? Or ramble on about Macau? 😬

huh. how the heck did you know i think about macau 24/7 😂

here's a post-canon headcanon for you:

neither vegas nor pete are any good at taking photos. vegas will obediently point a camera in macau's direction whenever macau asks ("uh, yeah, hia, i can and will shove all fifteen of these marshmallows in my mouth, are you doubting me") — but vegas doesn't have the instinct to take photos on his own, and the only selfies he's ever taken are thirst traps and dick pics as part of his ill-advised seduction attempts (not that macau knows this, bless his soul). pete, on the other hand, wasn't allowed a cellphone as a bodyguard, and cellphone technology evolved eight times over during his tenure, so pete can't take a good photo to save his life. stray blurry fingers in the corners of photos, light glare, terrible framing, that sort of thing.

what this means, of course, is that neither vegas nor pete have a ton of great photos of each other.

but macau is a fucking pro at this shit, okay, macau has studied the blade. so macau takes more than enough photos for the three of them, because he's great, and someone needs to document all the shit they do, and hia and phi better be thankful—

and they are. they'll linger over his shoulder as he's going through his photos, and they'll go "macau, that one's really good," and "can you send that to me?" and macau will start to sense a pattern. namely, his brother and his (soon-to-be!) brother-in-law are gross sappy dorks, and are farming him for photos of each other.

so macau, because he's the bestest little brother ever, starts to deliberately sneak shots of each of them to send to the other. totally unprompted, he'll send vegas these stunning candid shots of pete — pete playfully biting into a chicken skewer, pete waving at macau from a distance while leaning casually against their car, pete smiling off into the sunset. and vegas is down bad for these photos, macau sends him one when they're in the same room and gets to hear vegas make the most embarrassing strangled noise when he opens the notification and macau busts a lung laughing at him about it. (vegas does not put him in a headlock over it, because vegas is an addict, and vegas knows better than to piss off his dealer.)

the catch?

the photos that macau is sending to pete, of vegas... are terrible 😂 meme-worthy levels of cringe. vegas caught mid-snore, vegas's face scrunched up mid-blink, blurry chipmunk vegas with his mouth full of some food or the other. macau even manages to get a shot of vegas tripping and almost faceplanting over a loose branch on the sidewalk, and macau and pete cannot stop giggling about it for a straight fifteen minutes. (vegas is extremely suspicious, and also doesn't want to know, thanks very much.) pete eventually starts setting these photos as his phone lock screen and it drives vegas insane, but of course in the end he lets pete do whatever pete wants. of course he has no idea macau is the real culprit. (this con goes on for years.)

(but macau loves his brother too, so every once in a while, he'll do his brother justice. and he'll send something to pete, and he'll see the most gentle smile spread across pete's face, and he'll think, hell yeah. nailed it. best bro award goes to ME.)

[averysmolbear]

“I’ll stay right here, okay?”

CW: mentions of anxiety and depression (and some centering on those sorts of experiences and feelings so definitely don't read if that's triggering for you!). absolutely not proofread since I wrote it a few minutes ago (so it's very self indulgent). female reader with she/her pronouns used and a brief mention of menstruation. very hurt/comfort centric. pro hero Shoto (in his 20s). established relationship with the reader.

A/N: I was having what I refer to as a "bad brain day" because I allowed all my little anxieties recently catch up with me so I wanted to write a little something with Shoto (one of my faves) comforting the reader who was going through something similar.

Pairing: Pro Hero Shoto Todoroki x fem!reader

The moment that you didn’t respond to his text, Shoto Todoroki was on his way to see you. It wasn’t like you to ignore him when he sent you an afternoon text to remind you that he loved you and that he couldn’t wait to get home to see you. Like clockwork, Shoto had sent the text and slipped his phone into a pocket in his hero costume. He knew that there would be a familiar little buzz soon enough with the phone vibrating to let him know you had texted back.

For a moment, the young hero thought that he hadn’t felt the phone go off. Sometimes it was 45 minutes later before you could send him a text after all but it had been almost 2 hours and by now, Shoto knew he should have heard something. Sometimes you would just text back that you loved and missed him too, complete with some cute heart emoji or another. Sometimes you would send him a picture of yourself, even if it was just you sitting on the couch at home. Today, the lack of response from you made Shoto feel sick to his stomach.

He had pulled out his phone a few times to make sure he hadn’t missed the message but eventually he was done waiting. Something had to have happened between the time he left this morning for his shift at the agency and this very moment. He still had a couple of hours left to keep patrolling but he didn’t care. It was Shoto’s own agency after all which meant that he was the boss and if the boss needed to go home early, he was going to do it. You meant more to him than anything else after all.

He didn’t bother to change into his street clothes, hopping into his car after returning to the agency so he could head straight home. He tried calling once he was in the car but you didn’t answer, causing panic to rise within the young hero. What if something had happened to you? It wasn’t as if the two of you kept your relationship a secret. Shoto doubted that a villain would leave you alone in an effort to get to him. You were a target and in Shoto’s racing mind, he ran through every person he had recently caught who might have a vendetta against him.

By the time he got home, Shoto felt like he was a wreck. He burst into the front door, calling out your name in a panic. He didn’t even bother taking off his shoes, rushing straight for the living room first. When he saw you laying on the couch, cocooned in a plush blanket from your shared bed, he let out a soft breath. You looked like you were safe but that didn’t explain why you hadn’t answered his text.

He began to run through the things that it could be. Was it because you were menstruating? No, he actually knew your cycle probably better than you did and it would be another week at least before you might be dealing with cramps and the like. Was it because you were sick? He hadn’t noticed you sniffling recently and you hadn’t complained about feeling ill so Shoto didn’t think it was that either.

“Y/N?” Shoto softly spoke your name before sitting on the couch at your feet. He noticed that you didn’t even look at him when he said your name but your eyes were puffy and your cheeks were a little red. “Is it … one of your bad days, love?”

You slowly opened your eyes only to have tears start to stream down your already tear-stained cheeks. You didn’t have the will to sit up but you let Shoto help you anyway, trying to bite back the little sobs that were building up in your throat. You let him carefully put an arm around your shoulders and your head immediately fell to the side to rest against Shoto’s shoulder. He had his cool side to you and something about it felt soothing right now.

Soft, hiccuping breaths gave way to your shaky voice. “I’m sorry,” you said, closing your eyes tightly. “I … I don’t … I don’t mean to …”

“Shh,” Shoto soothed, shaking his head as he pulled you closer. “You don’t have to explain. I already know.”

You had tried to hide some of your lower moments from Shoto when you first started dating. The first time that you had wound up letting yourself get overwhelmed to the point that you broke, Shoto had nearly had a panic attack himself. He hadn’t been sure what to do but eventually had settled on sitting with you quietly, holding you in his arms while you tried to explain that it wasn’t his fault, that you had gotten overwhelmed and it would be fine. Now he was well versed in these moments although they happened less and less because Shoto also had gotten very good at being able to tell when you were nearing that point of being overwhelmed.

Somehow he had missed it this time but he didn’t say that. Blaming himself wouldn’t help you feel better because Shoto knew you would just end up trying to comfort him instead when you were the one who needed to be comforted.

“I’ll stay right here, okay?” he finally said as he pulled you on to his lap.

You let the blanket fall off of you as you curled up on your boyfriend’s lap, nuzzling your nose in his neck. Breathing in his familiar scent was calming and it helped you center yourself. Even without saying anything out loud, you had started going through the things you could see, hear, smell, taste, and touch as you worked on slowing your racing mind. You knew that you were clinging to Shoto but he didn’t seem to mind.

Your breathing started to even out, matching his own breathing pattern. Being this close to Shoto caused your body to naturally fall into sync with his. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head but didn’t speak until he felt your body completely relax in his arms. He didn’t care how long that would take and he waited quietly as he held you and let your mind and body settle back down again.

“We’re ordering dinner and you can pick a movie for us to watch, okay?” your boyfriend said as he brushed some of your hair out of your eyes. Shoto smiled down at you as you looked up at him with bloodshot and puffy eyes. “While we wait for the food, I’m drawing you a bath.”

“Shoto,” you said, ready to argue that he was doing too much but you could see that he was serious about this so with a sigh, you nodded. “Fine.”

With you still in his arms, Shoto stood up, cradling you to his chest as he walked to the bathroom. Again you wanted to protest but you knew he was going to do all of this anyway. You were also too exhausted to fight the pampering that you knew you were about to receive so you just placed a couple of soft kisses on Shoto’s jaw and gave in. There were worse ways for you to end your night on a day like today. And at least you weren’t going through it alone.

[hockeynoses]

fix me up along the line (Ste/ddie snz fic)

Summary: Another Ste/ddie snz fic! (Will I ever stop? Only time will tell.) Inspired by @sneezeshame's post here. Steve is traveling for work and is super sick. He calls Eddie from his hotel room. Future fic.

Rating: Other than snz stuff, this could be rated PG. I thought about making Eddie have the kink here, but I didn't. 1k.

Warnings: Mess. Implied future contagion.

Notes: The title is a line from the full version of the ancient song Hello My Baby. I've loved that song ever since I saw that frog singing it. 💖

-

Eddie fiddles with the strings on his guitar, killing time while he waits to hear from Steve. He’d promised he’d call Eddie once he got settled at the hotel up in Seattle; some conference his fancy job was making him travel for. Eddie had just gotten back to their house in LA from a gig that kept him away for the weekend. Their schedules caused them to just miss each other, Eddie arriving home the afternoon Steve left.

The shrill ring of the phone pulls him from his thoughts. Finally!

“Hey!”

“Hey babe.”

“You made it! Wait, you did make it, right?”

“Yep, checked idn a bidt ago,” Steve says. Eddie hears what he thinks is a squeaky, congested sniffle. “I’b godda have a shower soon and thedn head down for dinner.”

“Nice. How was the flight?” Eddie asks.

“Idt was… haah… hold odn… ihhh … hih’YEEHIISSHHH’oo!”

Eddie hears a wet, spraying sneeze explode on the other end of the line and blinks in shock. It sounds like Steve had time to twist away from the phone and has now set it down in an attempt to find some tissues.

“Shiiihh- ugh. SNF. Shidt.” An ill-sounding noseblow gurgles down the line, and concern pierces through Eddie.

“You feelin’ alright, sweetheart?”

“I’ve just beed sneezing all day,” Steve groans. “And I thigk the plane gave mbe a headache.” He follows that up with a few desperate, soupy sniffles, trying to stop his nose from running freely. “The cabidn pressure was bmessing with bmy sinuses and I couldn’t stob sneeziiii-hih… Hiiiih-ZZSSHHESSH’iue!”

“It sounds like you’re sick, babe.” He knows how stubborn Steve can be on the rare times he does get sick. Steve was already stressed about this trip, and Eddie doesn’t want him to overexert himself if he really is feeling that poorly.

“I dod’t… huh… I dod’t have tibe to be …haah… het’GGKSSHHH’uh! Hep’TIISHHH! Ughh. To be sigg.” Judging from the sound of those, Steve was just letting them fly, sneezing openly and spraying his hotel room with everything he had. The scrape of several tissues being pulled from a box fills the air, followed by a long, crackling blow.

“I hate to break it to you, but I think you might be. You sound awful already.” Eddie cups the receiver to his face with both hands. There’s a tug in his heart and he wants nothing more than for Steve to be back home so he can take care of him. He’d force him to stay in bed and would wait on him hand and foot, bringing him anything he asked for. “Did this just start today?”

“Dno…” Another sickly sniffle. “I’ve felt rudn down for a couble of days. Then last night I started sdeezing and I-iiihhh huh’KKSSSHH’IUE!” An exhausted sigh. “I didn’t gedt mbuch sleep.” He pulls a handful of tissues out, one after the other, and buries his face in them. “I thigk the pressure on the plane mbade it worse and then ihhh- HEH’TSSCHUH! Idt’s jusdt so damp here.” He clears his throat, his voice starting to go a little ragged. “I got caught ind the rain tryigg to hail a cab, which pro-ahh-bably didn’t h-he-hih’AEEISSHHah! SNF. Helb.”

“Poor thing. I wish I was there with you.”

“Probably best thadt… thadt you-ooo… huh’NGGSSHHiggh! Guh. Thadt you aren’t.” Eddie doesn’t think he’s imagining things when he hears the sheer mess of that one, thick and telling. “I thigk I’b pretty condagious. Huh… hih’YEIISHH’IUE!”

The line crackles as Steve sneezes uncovered, directly onto the receiver; the wet, viscous mess of it contaminating everything. Eddie flinches back on instinct. Steve sounds so cold-ridden and contagious that Eddie almost believes he could catch it over the phone, halfway across the country.

Steve moans, “SNF. Oh god. I’b so sorry. I cadn’t stob.”

“Steve… you sound really, really sick. Are you sure you should be going out like that?” Steve’s too busy abusing another tissue with a drenching noseblow to respond, so Eddie adds hopefully, “You should just come home.”

“Cadn’t. The bmanagement team specifically chose bme to represent the compady at the conference, and if I – if I – hih’kgxshht! Ugh. ‘Scuse bme. If I wandt the promotion I have to keeb bmy shit together. Ha-k’ISH’IGSHH’uh!”

“I don’t think anyone’s going to appreciate you getting them sick.” Eddie says, appealing to Steve’s vanity in a last-ditch effort. Everyone who comes within ten feet of him is going to be at risk of catching this thing. He’s going to be shaking so many hands, sharing so many meals, sitting in so many crowded conference rooms…

“I dod’t really have mbuch of aahh…Ha’AEESHHH’IUE! SNF. Mbuch of a choice.” Another miserable blow travels down the line, straight into Eddie’s ear.

There’s a beat of silence where Steve must be dazed after such a heavy noseblow, trying to catch his breath. Eddie can hear his open-mouthed, congested panting crackle over the phone receiver. If they don’t sanitize every inch of that place after he leaves, whoever stays there next is going to be in for a world of misery.

“I still wish there was something I could do,” Eddie says. “You sure you don’t need some food delivered? Or a care package? I can check if a delivery service would go to the pharmacy-”

“Eddie,” Steve says, and Eddie hears the smile in his voice despite everything. “You’re sweedt, but I’b good.”

“Okay…” Eddie’s still going to see about that pharmacy, just try and stop him. “You’ll let me know if it gets any worse? I could always fly up there and come rescue you.”

Steve chuckles, which turns into the beginnings of a cough. “I’ll be finde, really. Jusdt have to power through a few…heh…days…heh’RRIISHHH’IUE!” Another careless, wet sneeze bursts from him, dousing the phone in droplets, making Eddie wince again.

“May God bless your soul,” Eddie says, with exaggerated sincerity. Steve is too distracted to thank him.

“Ugh, whadt a bmess,” he says, pulling more tissues from his dwindling supply. “I’ve godda get these under condtrol.” His words are muffled into the bundle of tissues before he releases a long, squelching blow.

“Good luck with that.”

“Thaggs,” Steve responds, matching his sarcastic tone. He swallows around his burning throat. “Well, I’ve godda gedt in the shower and gedt cleaned up before dinner.”

“Alright, I’ll let you go.” Eddie has to stop himself from pouting. “But call me before you go to bed, yeah?”

“Assumbing I don’t gedt back and immediately pass oudt. Hih-kxxngt!” Steve says, smothering another sneeze in his full, slimy tissues.

Eddie huffs a laugh. “Okay. Take care of yourself, sweetheart.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

The last thing Eddie hears is Steve’s breath hitching before the clunk of the contaminated phone being placed back into its holder cuts off the call. Eddie immediately starts looking into getting a care package from the pharmacy delivered…maybe some soup, too. Steve’s gonna need it.

[mermaidsirennikita]

So You'd Like to Fuck a Villain: Romance Novel Recommendations

Have you gotten caught up in a villain ship? Are you, perhaps, what might be called a villainfucker?

The issue with stanning for villains and wanting them to have romantic love and happiness and possibly group sex, is that they often don't. At least, not onscreen. Some of the most popular romantic ships, obviously, have been villain ships--Reylo spawned a wave of romance novelists (though, I might add, many do not actually write villain-centric romance novels, which is fine), Darklina powered no small part of Shadow and Bone's publishing success... and let's be real, the success of the soon-to-be-ill-fated-from-what-I'm-hearing TV show. On a darker level, Interview with the Vampire took off in no small part because people love the tainted love that is Louis and Lestat, where maybe? They're both villains? (Definitely more Lestat, but you know.)

You know what the great thing about a romance novel is? The villain has to get a happy ending. They just must. It's a rule. If a villain is a lead, the HEA is guaranteed (rhymes), or it's not a romance novel.

So, for Cupid's birthday, I'm recommending some of my favorite villainfucking romance novels. I just think that we deserve it.

CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE

Wicked Villains by Katee Robert.

As you might guess, this series is in fact about villains getting their happy ending, full stop. And it does so by adapting Disney villain ships and placing them in a contemporary setting full of organized crime, sex clubs, and deals gone wrong. It is fun, it is campy, and it is very, very sexy. Check the trigger warnings (which Robert typically lists for each book on her website)--some of these do feature heavy BDSM and CNC.

The diversity of the pairings is so appreciated--while my favorite thus far is the first, Desperate Measures (Jafar/Jasmine with a mob wife "you killed my father" spin, for those curious) you get several triads (Hades/Hercules/Meg, Beast/Gaston/Belle, Ursula/Ariel/Eric, to name a few) and the ever-coveted sapphic Maleficent/Aurora moment. I don't think there's a straight person in this collection of characters. Contemporary romance can be a hard sell for me, especially in terms of villainy... But these are just a ride.

HISTORICAL ROMANCE

Devil in Winter by Lisa Kleypas.

Obviously, if you haven't read Devil in Winter yet, you need to read Devil in Winter. It's a classic--not just of historical romance, but romance in general. Though, pro-tip: I would recommend reading the preceding It Happened One Autumn first, as that's where the villainy takes place. Devil in Winter is about a recovering villain--a rake who did a very, very bad thing (kidnapping his best friend's lady love) simply because he did not want to get a job. I mean.....

Sebastian St. Vincent is a soft touch villain, and not just because he's super good at touching. You know he's going to roll over and beg for it with his seemingly-gentle, secretly-iron-willed heroine; but it's watching him get there that's so fun. His bark is worse than his bite, but he does deliver quite a bark (and quite a bite). If you like 'em snarky and slutty, read this book.

Duke of Sin by Elizabeth Hoyt.

If you like a blond villain who seems better at lounging about than doing manual labor, Valentine Napier takes what St. Vincent was doing to another level of insanity. St. Vincent is sane; Valentine is not, and he's a lot less fun about his kidnappings. Fortunately, his heroine (dispatched to spy on and steal from him) does not take any shit.

This is a book for those who like them loony, because I really don't think Valentine reforms in the least. He just falls in love, all while running around naked in bedazzled, open robes and brandishing a knife. At least he's good in bed and keeps giant, nude portraits of himself in his own house. Keep in mind that this book does delve into some pretty massive childhood trauma, including all kinds of abuse.

Villain I'd Like to F...

This anthology of novellas delves into five stories of historical romance villainy, by five great authors. I'm going to list each novella and its author, as these collections typically disband after a period of time, allowing the authors to sell the novellas individually (though you often can find the collections in online libraries like Libby). In the brackets!

[ Lady Viper and the Bastard by Eva Leigh.

Do you enjoy Dangerous Liaisons? Try this delightfully sexy Georgian-era novella about a widowed vamp and an illegitimate libertine, teaming up to break apart two young lovers (for a price). Except what happens when these two assholes start to catch feelings? Notable in that these characters are in their forties, know themselves, and do engage in some fun role-playing.

Seven Sinful Nights by Nicola Davidson.

Our young-but-ready widowed heroine is toiling in the service of her dickish in-laws... Until the owner of the local gambling hell (who isn't above murder and torture, and does enjoy dominating a bit) shows up demanding payment for her brother-in-law's debts. Those who love an innocent heroine lured by the darkness will love this one, a she very much goes willingly to her "doom" of being his mistress for a week, and loves every minute of it. It's sexy, it's sweet, she also loves a torture moment, there's some exhibitionism.

The Gangster's Prize by Joanna Shupe.

A Gilded Age gangster is thrown off balance by the young woman who comes to him demanding help in finding her missing father. But wait... who's in his dungeon as we speak? Could it be? Her dad? Joanna doesn't pull her punches here, and it's delightfully wacky. Watching our hapless villain hero be like "uhh, what screams from the dungeon" while our heroine looks for her father... who he has captive.. is hilarious.

The Bootlegger's Bounty by Adriana Herrera.

Did someone say sort-of pirates? Our heroine is a nightclub singer, and she books passage to New York with a dangerous rum runner. There's a lot of sex in this one, and--delightfully--a triad, as there happens to be a young gentleman who catches the eye of both our singer and our rum runner...

The Conquering of Tate the Pious by Sierra Simone.

Hedonistic nuns? A Norman invader (in more ways than one) who turns out to be a lady conqueror? As in, a conqueror who is a lady and conquers ladies? I think yes. Our proud abbess Tate is ready to stand up to the Wolf, but what happens when the Wolf is very sexy and cruel in the best possible way? ]

The Prince of Broadway by Joanna Shupe.

If there's one thing Joanna Shupe loves, it's a hero (or a villain turned hero) who hates your dad. This book opens with our casino-owning hero beating the shit out of someone, and when he meets the headstrong spoiled rich girl who wants to open a casino for ladies and needs mentorship... He takes her up on it. All while planning to take down her father (as revenge!!!).

While Clay isn't a super hardcore bad guy, he is pretty violent and pretty diabolical. What makes this book is, of course, his dynamic with Florence, and her defiance of norms that quickly has him completely besotted. This book has a very good grovel, and it should. Does anyone deserve Florence?

... and after reading this one, you can mosey over to Shupe's next book, The Devil of Downtown, in which a bad, bad gangster gets his ass emotionally kicked by Florence's goody goody angelic sister.

The Dragon and The Pearl by Jeannie Lin.

This is another one that benefits from reading its previous book, Butterfly Swords, first. In that novel we're introduced to the treacherous warlord our heroine is fleeing--Li Tao. Lin doesn't shy away from his intimidation factor: he even gets into a sword fight (that turns into an outright brawl, lmao) with the hero. In this novel, Li Tao gets full focus, kidnapping a former emperor's concubine to get information out of her.

What follows is a match of wits that gradually gives way to two manipulative, emotionally closed off people falling madly in love with each other while being unable to say it. Li Tao is a cold, seemingly-unfeeling villain-as-hero, and he really pushes how far he's willing to go to reach his end goals in this book. Also, there's a sex deal. If that matters to you.

Daring and The Duke by Sarah MacLean.

Again, one that does in fact benefit from reading the two preceding books, Wicked and The Wallflower and Brazen and The Beast (fortunately, they're both good!). Ewan, our titular duke, is the villain of both--and he is completely batshit insane in his pursuit of his childhood sweetheart, Grace. Who, for reasons relating to villainy, wants absolutely nothing to do with him.

This is a book-long grovel the way Sarah MacLean does it best--with abject shame and humiliation. Ewan is put through the ringer: and he should be, because he did a really bad thing! And was legitimately a nutjob of a villain! But that's what makes it so, so good.

PARANORMAL/FANTASY ROMANCE

The Four Horsemen by Laura Thalassa.

This series has the rather bold take of "what if the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse Fucked". Starting with Pestilence, bleeding into War and Famine, and ending with Death, this series is a bit bonkers. But it doesn't let up on the extent of the villainous heroes' determination to lay waste to the world. There is a lot of gore. There is a lot of moral ambiguity.

But it's also legitimately funny. Pestilence discovers the joys of a bathtub. Death receives his first blowjob and is like "I don't know, maybe the apocalypse is bad". It's campy, and it's fun, and it leans the fuck in to the concept. I would recommend reading these in order, as the love stories stand alone but the overall arc leads to a big finish (and there are lots of finishes in between, if you know what I'm say--)

The Tenebris Trilogy by Kathryn Ann Kingsley.

If you're interested in the occult and some Lovecraftian vibes set in a pseudo-1920s world, this is it. Our heroine is on the search for her brother, and who is to assist but his stuffy-hot professor who happens to be a cult leader and has perhaps merged his body with that of a Cthulu monster?

What's interesting about this series (which cannot be read as standalones, and must be read in order) is that our hero is legitimately loony tunes, and our heroine is into it. She falls in love with him and his monsters, and that does... extend to the physical. (Tentacles, everyone! Shadow tentacles! Think Venom.) I will add that there's a lovely secondary romance with a trans heroine (with a hero that's not a villain) and it is excellent, but at one point an antagonist is transphobic towards her. An attempted off-page forced detransition occurs. The main heroine is totally supportive of the secondary heroine and stops it, but read with caution.

Kiss of a Demon King by Kresley Cole.

This rare villainess/hero romance sees a sorceress heroine take a deposed demon king captive to coerce him into impregnating her so that she can bear his heir (all for villainous purposes, of course). Yes. So this book is heavy on the dubcon--lots of edging, lots of people chained to beds--but to be frank? He is into it. We have a stern, morally upright hero being driven to the brink by the baddest of bad girls, and it's great.

This book is a bit controversial because of the content, and I do recommend checking out my IAD Cheat Sheet before reading for a full list of triggers/details about the world of Immortals After Dark. But it reads fairly well on its own, and I personally adore it. The sex is hot, the romance is angsty, he gets back at her in every possible way, and it's so fun to see a villainess take center stage and bring out the dark side of such a noble hero.

Dreams of a Dark Warrior by Kresley Cole.

Here, we focus on an immortal valkyrie heroine who's had centuries of near-misses with her would-be Berserker love--every time she kisses him, he remembers his past lives with her and promptly dies in increasingly gruesome ways. He's always be good and loving to her... which is why she's so shocked when he returns to her, this time in the form of an immortal-hating torturer who's taken her captive.

This one is dark--yes, he does torture her (not that badly, but there are other scenes of torture at the hands of different villains which are... bad). But if you can hang in there, I think you'll find a very compelling romance with a legitimately troubled, intense hero and a woman he can't get out of his head. There's also a very, very good bathtub scene that turns into "let me blindfold you so you can't see my hideous scars".

Lothaire by Kresley Cole.

The villain romance to end all villain romances (best read after Dreams, so you get the one-two punch of a pair of very different villainous heroes). What happens when you mix a 3,000-year-old megalomaniacal vampire with a 24-year-old whip-smart human woman he believes houses the soul of the goddess he's supposed to wed? A fucking ride, and possibly my favorite romance ever, that's what.

Lothaire goes HARD. It goes hard on the villainy (this is a story of a villain falling in love, not a villain finding redemption), it goes hard on the sex (with possibly one of the most infamous sex scenes in romance, and I love every word of it), and it goes hard on the angst. As much as Lothaire fucks with Ellie's head and is determined to deny his love for her, she's determined to one-up on him and will never, ever break. I think this book is always best summed up in a scene early on where he kisses her, bites her lip, and draws back, smugly expecting horror--only to find her grinning through the blood and pulling him in for another kiss. Tell me that isn't villain romance perfection.

Sworn to the Shadow God by Ruby Dixon.

Not so much a super hard villain romance as it is a "falling in love with Death himself" book, this wacky romance finds our gamer girl heroine falling through a portal to another land and... yes, sworn as the mortal companion of the God of Death as he attempts to complete a trial set before him by the father god. It is funny, it is sexy, it's adventurous, and it is for the Reylos.

You think I'm joking. No. He is very clearly modeled after Kylo Ren, and he sweeps around in dark cloaks and emo smashes about being the God of the Death, and it is glorious. He's less bad than he is detached and uncaring, but, you know... Death. By the end of the book, though? He cares very much about one particular person.

Look, man. Check your triggers always, especially with romance novels about villains. These won't work for everyone. But I imagine... if you like a villain... some of these are for you.

[whumpsmith]

OC talk~

Jaime Fetcher

If I had to label her I think she's technically a caretaker, but in essence she's mainly just the daughter of and best friends with the main characters of the story, and doesn't even make an appearance until the sequel, but she's still very dear to my heart and a rebel with a capital R~

More about she under the cut

Jaime Fetcher is everything she isn't supposed to be (according to her mom and aunt). Both her mother and her aunt wanted her to grow up as a respectable young woman, but the harder they tried to push her into a mold the more she broke out of it.

She thrifts for high-quality grunge outfits instead of shopping for the latest fast fashion. She wears dark makeup to scare people off instead of pretty makeup to attract men. She's an artist instead of a scholar. She protests instead of conforming.

And worst of all; she takes after her father instead of her mother.

Jaime's parents divorced when she was only little, but she was old enough to see the truth despite what her mother tried to tell her. She managed to convince everyone that her father shouldn't be allowed near her, except for Jaime herself. She managed to keep in touch with her father despite her mother trying to do everything to prevent that, including revoking his parental rights by pointing out his alcoholism and unemployment.

But being a daddy's girl at heart, Jaime only saw the good in him and as soon as she figured out how postage worked, she kept sending him letters without her mom finding out. When her mother got terminally ill, she sought his comfort, even running away from home to finally see him again. However, her father had fallen in with various criminal activities at this point, and talked her into going back.

Before she passed, Jaime's mother named her sister as legal guardian to look after Jaime, and since her father never fought for custody after she passed, she remained in the care of her karen aunt.

Jaime starts spending as much time away from home as she possibly can, hanging out with her friends after school who are all seen as misfits in their small rural town, and onoccassion she runs away back to her father, who lets her stay a couple of days to cool down before sending her back.

She's considered a delinquent back home, much to her aunt's horror, but manages to stay out of trouble because the town sherrif is a big ol' softie, and all Jaime and her friends really do is make some really good points regarding social justice, just in the wrong ways; (vandalising offensive signs and landmarks, attacking pro-lifers at a protest, calling out karens in public, and starting fights with homophobes).

She forms a squad with three queer friends and their one token normie, and are often caught smoking pot in a resident's scrapyard because there is literally nothing for them to do outside of school. The sherrif knows this and usually sends them on their way with some breath mints and a joking "see you next week." Knowing they'll wind up back there eventually.

After years of kicking up trouble in her town, she eventually escapes by attending college for an art degree, her provocative paintings eventually appreciated as powerful commentary on society, but most importantly she doesn't have to be sneaky about being in touch with her father anymore.

Read all about her whumper of a father right here~

[chargetheintruder]

I may stand slightly corrected, hold on.

No really, I didn't want to believe this was so, but well . . . our President Joe Biden currently has COVID-19. And he's been prone to repeat infections with the virus because he's like EIGHTY-something.

Of course, Paxlovid is a thing, and while it keeps you alive and mostly safe, it also sets you up for repeated infections, particularly since the viruses under the "COVID-19" umbrella keep mutating into new forms.

Look, I'm not going to soften this much. I'm like fifty-something. I caught one of the early strains of Covid shortly after my second vaccine shot. The illness itself was mild for me . . . but the Long Covid I got from it was not. I had shortness of breath and massive Brain Fog for MONTHS after the first infection, and It took me getting on and staying on some over-the-counter anti-histamines for a month-plus to clear that out on my own.

But still. The point is, you can get Long Covid from one infection, never mind several. It gets worse with age. Brain fog--cognitive impairment--is a part of Long Covid REGARDLESS of age. And there's a fix for that. These are known knowns.

So in that context: what the actual cornholing blue FUCK was this White House thinking, when they didn't disclose all of this SOONER? Nono, when Trump had COVID-19 everybody knew he was quarantined poorly and on the inhaler for it steadily--with Biden we don't even know that?

Look, here's what needs to happen:

1-- Katzenberg has to go, he clearly doesn't have one clue how to manage human beings, never mind sitting Presidents prone to COVID-19. That's its own rant. Point is the new management needs to be more transparent about these matters so Trump and his don't always get the first word in.

2-- Kamala Harris needs to be made President Pro Tempore ("pro tem", for the time being) under the 25th Amendment of the Constitution, as you do when the President has a health issue. And there may even be a suitable Vice President for her, it turns out.

3-- As soon as President Biden is clear of the virus, he needs to be kept quarantined and put on a 1-2 month anti-histamine regimen to clear out all signs of Long Covid, and THEN he needs to take a Cognitive Impairment test to insure he doesn't have Covid-related Brain Fog. If he passes the test and shows no signs of Long Covid, he runs, I'll apologize, and God have mercy on us all.

4-- If this can't be implemented in time, then yes, we have to run with Kamala and her VP. And we have to be ready to play EXTRA ROUGH with Trump and his for being so damned predatory and for exploiting someone with clear and present coronavirus symptoms.

5-- And as God is my witness, if we don't push for a return of an updated Fairness Doctrine for this damned fool Press, then what are we even doing here? Trump and his get no more softballs. Not unless people die on their side.

And seriously? I'm not surprised but I am appalled by how much intentional incompetence the Media has shown on this.

Good God. Now can these people we voted for actually get off their asses and actually DO what they can to save society? Because we voters can't shoulder the whole burden.

[tianazlater]

This makes me stop and think.

But if CHARACTER is missing…it’s usually not resolvable.

People should make sure not to reward those who act out.

It’s like giving a screaming kid a sucker to get them to shut up. You teach them to scream for what they want…and they will get it.

People that don’t have character problems are not going to have much patience with this.

This is a very…walking on egg shells situation. Because these troubled kids are going to look for other troubled kids…favor them…all kinds of nonsense.

You have to be careful you don’t backwards reward them…and you don’t become an enabler.

Maybe their behavior will get better if they scream and I give them what they want!

Please don’t.

Maybe their behavior will get better if I teach them skills!

Umm…is this the same ordeal?

Maaaaaybe…

Please at least don’t make the fallacy of thinking that teaching missing skills is the panacea for bad behavior. I can tell you this much…misbehavior can be due to a LOT more than just missing skills.

Missing parents. Missing conscience. Missing healthy/safe home…neglected…lack of cognitive development due to this…which ACTUALLY takes PHYSICAL toll on the mind, not just chemical. Spoiled rotten…addictions which eat away at the brain as well…and straight up mental illness as we know it. Not WANTING to learn. Not WANTING to work.

Kudos to being positive and trying to help. But good luck to you.

It’s not for me.

Reminds me of trying to save my dad all over again.

Sometimes that Entropy Phenomenon is just infesting even little people…and there is no stopping it.

I very much believe there is a point of no return.

Maybe if it’s caught and reversed soon enough? But to me it seems like a cancer that we haven’t identified almost.

SOMETHING is just eating away at them that we haven’t identified.

And I think it’s contagious, almost, as well.

Worse than cancer. Like contagious cancer.

And THIS…and the EXPERIENCE I’ve had with all this…lands me SOOOO seriously PRO-Choice. Because this stuff isn’t a joke.

Kids need to be properly nurtured. Or they don’t need to exist.

I very much think something gets in there when they’re not.

And this takes a toll on society.

I feel bad…

Like I used to gravitate towards troubled people…wanting to help.

Now I’m just like, Why hasn’t that thing been quarantined?

Maybe y’all are ok w it, but just wait until it coughs on you and you end up the same. But still, that’s on you. Just keep it TF away from me at least.

Just watch. In 1000yrs they will find out what actually causes contagious mental illness or contagious poor behavior…like we have that saying one bad one will ruin the whole batch?

They’ll find scientific evidence and I’ll be blowing around in the wind after being long gone and the wind will be like, “I told you so…”

And THEN…THEN…the one bad one that ruins the whole damn thing…will finally… 2+2…be quarantined instead of given special treatment…or treated like they’re normal even.

It’s so funny…that we used to exclaim that everyone was insane. And we pendulum-ed the other way after we were tragic w that…and now we think mental illness is not a problem.

It is.

It will always be a thing.

We just need to stop being absolute morons about how we handle it.

Missing skills…

Yes. WE are missing them.

And when we find a way to test for it…I imagine people will at first cry out that it’s inhumane.

No. It’s not.

Inhumane is not figuring out people are sick and then submitting others to it.

This is why I keep moving…and don’t stay anywhere too long. I don’t want to TURN.

So until we figure out how to keep the rotten out of the batches of people…

I don’t stay in one place too long.

I’ve proven I can HANDLE it. I’m damn near immune. My childhood was toxic AF.

I’ve said on repeat and I’ll say it again…I really shouldn’t have been born given the situation. But here I am.

But it should come with hazard pay at least. And if I don’t get that…or it doesn’t get cleaned up…I won’t stay put.

[hazardsofspikesandnevadeans]

A small Dark Boo shifted as he laid on the couch. He noticed that Kid hadn't returned for so long and he knew that the Guy wasn't on a journey. Something had to be wrong...

His nubs patted against the cushion under him, eyes shifting before he jumped onto the back of the couch to look at the computer in the corner of the room. The rainbow glow making him aware that his 'buddy' was active, if not just on sleep mode. He soon looked toward the camera in the other corner with a frown.

"What's the matter, DB? You seem irritated..."

He knew the turned virus when he heard it, relieved even to see someone had caught his worry.

"I'm worried about Kid, Blue...he should be back by now."

Dark Boostah heard the hum before the camera seemed to nod in agreement.

"I've noticed that too. It doesn't help that he's been without his raw steak for so long either. So that's another worry."

The alternate virus seemed to shift a bit with how that lens looked, making it look like he was looking to the side. Dark Boostah's eyes narrowed before he hopped down from the couch finally, crawling toward the door with little issue.

"That does it then. I'm looking for him."

A different voice caught his attention making him glance back toward the computer screen now. He even seemed to flinch a bit.

"You sure you should do this, Jason? We don't even know if he's, you know...human enough for how long it's been."

The Dark Boo gave a huff as his tail seemed to thrash on the floor at this. Not that he felt it. The issues of his death that caused him to be a ghost, floor bound at that!

"We have to find him, Gza! You know that as well as I do. He housed us, dang it. Without him we would be erased and you know it!"

The once black screen shifted to a large orange mechanical eye of sorts to nearly glare at the small ghost but he knew the Boo was right. Ever since his death that world would've been completely erased...all due to a horrible carnival 'incident' with the poor ghost.

"Alright, alright...just wait a minute and we'll go find him. I swear though if he's turned I'm sending you both to the nearest Save."

Dark Boostah just waved him off at that. He knew otherwise.

~ Kid gave a quiet groan as he was still very much stuck in the ground, the glitched soil having expanded. This wasn't good. He should've been unstuck by now. His mind was foggy but not due to the usual. He was just hungry and with this soil blocking entrance to his inventory he couldn't just reach in and grab even a small piece of dried Fruit wrap.

He could only hear the sound of his stomach past the silence around him otherwise. Had he given up on calling out? Sadly, he did. He gave a huff though as he was just letting his chin rest against his crossed arms. Hell, even his dad had gone quiet.

Kid finally spoke up after giving a stray blade of grass a flick.

"You doing alright, Dad?"

Again, silence. The little Guy gave a frown as he waited, eyes shifting a bit as he was straining to listen to his inner being.

Huh? Oh, yeah...just peachy.

Kid's frown deepened as he knew that tone all too well. Yeah, Fauver wasn't the only one hating this lock down that this illness had pushed on him.

"Someone will come. I just know it..."

He was trying to reassure the soul that was bound to his subconscious. Kid soon perked up as he swore he heard someone calling his name. Two people at that!

He squinted as he swore he knew who those belonged to, well aware that Fauver gave a groan that held the tone of 'oh Kayin, rekill him now'. Kid gave a grimace at the tone but he was more than happy to see someone had come to find him.

"Over here!"

The sight of a certain Dark Boo that was hitching a ride on a Protobot's shoulder was more than welcoming. The two had slowed to a stop just outside the glitched area. They both looked startled about how bad it was before Gza gave a look of disbelief toward Kid.

"DB, Gza! You're the last I expected to see...uh...you might need to call someone. Hank probably not because this is...bad."

"No one data based, that's for sure. Holy circus tents on fire."

Dark Boostah tapped his chin with a nub in thought. Just who could they call? Nearly everyone they knew was data based in one way or another. "I...think I got an idea..."

[ktheist]

(why) we got married | m

synopsis. they say the 7th year of your marriage is always an uphill battle - but with the existence of your prenup coming to light thanks to taehyung’s lawyer slash family friend’s slip of tongue - first it reached your and his families, and then your family’s close friends and then your family’s close friends’ friends until - almost everyone is speculating on the grounds of you and taehyung’s marriage being anything but love.

you’re not sure if you’re even going to make past the second year mark in your marriage. but is the reason you got married really as important as why you choose to stay or leave?

muses. chairman!taehyung x stewardess!reader

alternative title. as you are.

inspired by. the 1 by taylor swift

genre. arranged marriage au with a pinch of drama and angst

words. 12.5k

warnings. explicit content

verse. knj. ksj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs. story time.

x

in your defense, neither you nor taehyung made an elaborated plan to deceive both his family and yours with the marriage which yes, had been founded upon a contract. but that’s not the point - the point is, your father and brother never sat down with taehyung and had a man-to-man talk. and his mother never sniffed out your reason for marrying her son being his abundance of wealth. but when all comes to light, thanks to taehyung’s lawyer slash family friend who made a slip of tongue - your parents and his were the ones most vindictive about who’s digging whose gold.

and to be completely frank, you were one article away from calling up your mother and telling her that you seduced taehyung into marrying you - just so she’d stop baring her fangs at mrs. kim. these days the headlines keep blowing up your mother and mrs. kim’s completely-by-chance meeting at a five star restaurant that erupted into manic yelling and pointing fingers.

“what did you say, you-” the audio bleeps for a split second before your mother in law’s voice comes back on, “-it was your daughter that seduced my son!”

“you crazy-” the audio bleeps again, “-you better watch your mouth or i’ll-”

the remaining seconds of the video are filled with bleeps that make it hard to even understand what either woman was saying. a wave of regret floods your chest as you scroll down the words strewn out into a juicy, tea-spilling commentary on your and taehyung’s past - the writer seems to pick up the minor little details that, in hindsight, leaves a big fat question mark out in the open.

when exactly did ___ ___ and kim taehyung start dating?

the answer was never.

the two times you and taehyung were photographed together was at a cafe near your office and the other, near his penthouse wherein you were discussing the terms of the contracts by yourselves. the one near taehyung’s penthouse being the final stage where you both signed it on your ipads. to the naked eye, you probably looked like you were on a date and being young professionals, it was only a given that both of you had some sort of electronic on you at all times - even during dates.

everyone just assumed you were together and with the assumption of being together, comes the conclusion that you were deeply, madly in love. was it the way the picture caught you two looking at each other with smiles on your faces? was it it’s sister picture that stilled you in a frame where you’re looking at your ipad and taehyung looking at you with the same - possibly remaining - smile from the moment the first picture was taken? that, you will never know.

but so it goes, you started going to socials together because taehyung needed some cleansing from his... charm-filled past. he used to go to those with different partners each week, and the previous woman that went with him always ended up refusing to talk about it or boasting about her ‘relationship’ with him. that was of course, after yoo now-kim jeongyeon got married three years ago. he used to attend those socials with her for the most part.

but someway, somehow, his public record was clean of any drama.

you would know, you’ve seen the man in action with your very eyes. on your 7th social event together, son chaeyoung had marched up to you and him like a ticking time bomb, red-faced and flaring nostrils and all. you were about ready to stand your ground when taehyung softly touched your hand that was around his arm and asked if you minded if he left for some fresh air.

of course you didn’t - respectfully, you couldn’t care less what taehyung does as long as it didn’t bring a negative light to you and him and the dynasties you both carried over your shoulders. everyone had their eyes wide open and ears perked for what was to come when taehyung walked chaeyoung out to the hallway. but nothing happened, and you were left to mingle on your own until he returned, looking devilishly handsome as always and strutted up to you with an air of refined sureness.

chaeyoung didn’t come back with him but everything remained quiet - not even a dramatic “stay away from my man!” at any point of your contract. you never asked how he did it - you thought it involved money, but over time, you realized it was just kim taehyung and all the things that made those women attracted to him. and just like a flame, he’d burned the moths’ wings until they couldn’t flutter over to him anymore after your wedding.

“uh, miss, we’re here,” the driver calls, meeting your eyes through the rear-view mirror.

it takes you a few moments to close the cover of your ipad and shove it into your handbag before pulling out bills that’s worth more than your car ride, “thanks, keep the change.”

and with that, you hop out of the cab, ready to put on a facade of grace and confidence. the staff who knows you greets you with a range of emotions, some with unhinged admiration from day one, others with curiosity on what’s truly hidden beneath those darken ray bans - without a doubt, aware of the drama going on between their boss’ mother and their boss’ wife’s mother.

either way, you make sure to return each smile and greeting like you always do. red lips sewn across your face like an ever smiling doll.

it’s only once you’ve entered the elevator and luckily left to your own devices, do you let your shoulder sag, the smile downturned into a frown all the way until a ding echoes into the small compartment and a red ‘8′ flashes on top of the doors.

you don’t fail to fix the secretaries a smile, relief flooding over you at how their warm - or was it profession-required - greeting hasn’t changed even after the rumors spreading about your inevitable divorce - of course, purported by you and taehyung’s mothers.

“son, if you don’t divorce that woman right away, i-i,” and here you see for yourself, the woman who called you ‘my daughter’ with the most loving voice, stuttering into a fit of rage, “i don’t think i can face my friends anymore - that bitch jihye has been slandering our family saying you used her daughter to get hold of the company!”

mina is about to knock on the door and announce your arrival when you hold a hand up before placing an index finger to your lips. she doesn’t need to be told twice when she nods once and steps back to leave you eavesdropping on your mother in law and husband.

“that’s fair,” there isn’t even a stuttered beat in his response.

“what-”

“that’s part of the reason we got married,” he goes on, “and ___ needs some help setting up her brother with some connection so it works out - and mom, please refer to ___ and mrs. jeon by their names, ___ is still my wife and mrs. jeon is the woman who raised her.”

“y-you-” mrs. kim stutters out in disbelief just when you decide to make your presence known, hand on the door, “you ungrateful child, oh my- oh my-!” you walk into the sight of the woman falling backwards with mr. ji the kims’ lawyer stretching his arms out to catch her, shouting “madam!” while taehyung launching himself across the room, “mom!”

mrs. kim ends up hospitalized.

“it was a case of stress and overworking that should go away with a good few days’ break,” chairman kim who also opts to assume his seat as part of the hospital’s doctor and a family friend of taehyung’s, fixes you with a reassuring smile.

the stethoscope and white robe gives off a more professional vibe than the sophisticated air you see him wear at family dinners.

“that’s a relief - it’s nothing life-threatening,” the smile you return doesn’t seem to sit right with him as his eyebrows knit together and a cloud seem to loom over his face.

“it’s really not in my place but,” he pauses, probably weighing out the pros and cons of offending you with what he’s about to say - but he doesn’t need to worry too much because after today, you probably won’t be seeing each other at dinners any time soon, “me and jeongyeon,” he means his wife and taehyung’s childhood friend, “are here for you if you need to talk - i know mrs. kim can be a little unreasonable at times, but give her some time. don’t give up on her.”

you nod once, murmuring a hollow ‘thanks for that, seokjin’ before watching the man strut down the hallway, the sound of his footsteps accompanying his leave. only when you’re left with the sound of your breathing, do you finally allow chairman kim’s words to sink into the deepest depth of your heart.

it’s not an easy task to keep your heart still and unbothered by your own mother in law’s words. even now, you can still hear her embellishing her headache, back ache, joint pains and every sort of non-fatal pains she has enough to get taehyung to stay by her bedside - so he doesn’t go home. doesn’t go back to the place where you two have built for yourselves.

and yet you can’t help but agree that - “if you’d divorced her just like i told you, i wouldn’t have fallen so ill!” she sighs, just as you’re about to slide the door open.

all of a sudden, the image of the delicate woman swaying and tumbling towards the ground flashes at the back of your head and you instantly recoil, as if the door was made from fire.

the fear of worsening mrs. kim’s health at the sight of you has you backing away, choosing to wait at the seat in the hallway instead. seconds stretch into minutes and minutes into hours until you feel your body being shaken.

your eyes which you never noticed fluttered close - snap open only to gaze at the face of an angel - a concerned one at that judging from the way his eyebrows knit together. and then you’re hearing the smooth baritone of his voice. you almost pulled out your phone from your purse to ask if you could have it recorded so you could listen to it as a lullaby.

that is, until you realize the angel’s disheveled wavy hair and eyes that look like they’re well on their way to falling asleep standing.

“taehyung,” the name slips out of your mouth with a surprised gasp as you note the pristine pastel background of the vip section, body jolting to sit up from your previously slumping position.

“have you been waiting all this time?” he takes a seat next to you - and only then do you notice the unkempt mess that he is.

the first few buttons of his shirt is undone whilst it hangs over his shoulders, untucked, tie hanging loose over his chest as he drapes his blazer over his arm. the sight is almost alien, especially coming from someone who can’t even stand a crease in his shirt.

“what time is it?” you wonder, reaching for your phone while he checks the rolex on his wrist - which proves to be faster than rummaging through your bag.

“seven-thirty - you’ve been waiting here for more than five hours,” and just your luck, right as the words hit the air, your stomach decides to remind you of the meal you’re about to miss if you stay here any longer.

the heat rushing to your cheeks a second later is immeasurably hot, “o-oh, okay.”

clearing your throat, you ask, “so how was mother? seokjin already told me but i wanted to hear it from you that she’s okay.”

“you know how mom is - keeps saying her head hurts from the fall even though mr. ji managed to catch her halfway,” in any other circumstances, you and him would have found humor in how your mother in law’s overembellished diagnosis to gain attention from you and taehyung - but this time, it’s only one of you she wants that from.

it doesn’t stop you from chuckling though, “it sounds just like her - maybe i should make some ginseng chicken soup to help her get better... or beef seaweed, you know, her...”

swallowing the lump in your throat is a feat - and unfortunately, you’ve failed terribly as taehyung gather you his arms.

only then, do you realize you’re sobbing like a child, emotions running wild as everything comes crashing in like a storm - his mother, your family, the whole fucking tabloids that’s being written and ready to be posted in the next few hours and the fact that the marriage may have been a fraud, but the bonds you made along the way had been more than just business. mrs. kim was a mother to you as much as yours is to taehyung. there may have not been any love between you two but you cherish his family like he cherishes yours.

“i’m sorry - for causing a- a scene - for causing mother to f-faint-” you weep and weep.

in your crying fit, you barely notice the way his arms tighten just the tiniest bit as he sways you left to right gently, one hand on the back of your head caressing your hair as he whispers something along the lines of “it’s not your fault” and “we’ll figure it out together.”

and so for the nth time in your one year of marriage, you’re banding together to capture mrs. kim’s heart again. the first time you visited her with taehyung, she narrowed her eyes at you and demanded taehyung explain as to why he didn’t come alone through the very same eyes next second.

when the man pretended not to notice and even placed a hand on your lower back just as your steps faltered in a ‘i’m with you’ kind of way, she opted to stare out the window while you unpack the broth you made onto the table. the portion you poured into the bowl you brought was getting colder by the minute as you spoke to her, “mother, i made beef seaweed soup, it’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

the only indication that she was listening was the way her eyes scanned the bowl of broth in front of her and proceeded to keep them on the window until you had to leave.

and so goes your second and third visits being received with shoulders made of ice a kind of silence that never fails to make your stomach churn with a sort of nervousness you should have felt when you meet your future husband’s parents for the first time. but the first time you met mrs. kim, your chest was filled with nothing short confidence and woo her you did along with taehyung’s relatives and closed friends. at the time, you didn’t think what you were doing - fooling everyone into believing that you’re marrying each other for love - would come biting you in the ass.

if karma existed then this probably you getting what you deserved.

on your fouth visit, you’d come alone because taehyung had an urgent meeting to attend. mrs. kim spared you a once over just like a rabbit who voluntarily and follishly hopped into the lion’s den.

“mother,” you offer her a smile, “how are you feeling?”

when silence is the only response you get, you quickly rummage through the paper bag you’d brought with you, “have you eaten? i made chicken soup-”

“don’t bother,” her voice cuts through the air like a blade. eyes as piercing as spears, “sit down, i know taehyung has an urgent meeting - it’s the only way to get him off my back.”

you’re not quite sure what she means but you have an inkling that the reason her hostility has yet to reach its pique is because taehyung has been giving her subtle looks to ‘mom, be nice to my wife’.

with a nod and a smile that seems to be glued to your face, you ask, “how was the bibimbap yesterday?”

though she didn’t cut you off, her response doesn’t exactly shed hope to your efforts being paid off when she dismissively says, “i gave it to mr. ji.”

the immediate ‘oh’ that tumbles out of your mouth is purely reflexive even though you know she’s never touched the meals you packed for her. but having her admit it is a different kind of heartbreak.

“i see,” is all you can say as you feel tears prick your waterline, a lump in your throat.

“this,” she places a folder of documents she seems to have ready by her bedside into your hands and without any explanation, sends you off with, “if you have any conscience at all, you’d sign these papers and stay out of our lives.  even though i never read the contract but i’m sure a smart woman such as yourself would’ve thought to include the alimony as well - you understand what i’m saying right?”

you tried to say something - anything but at that point, the look in her eye already paints a picture of you clinging onto taehyung’s wealth. and yet you still tried, “m-mother, i-...”

but no words come out and as though her point had been proven, she’d huffed out a sigh and tuned you out like she always did on your previous visits.

so you walked down the hallway with shades covering your tear stained eyes and a skip to your step that oh-so-badly wishes to break into an unceremonious run to a place where nobody knows you. where nobody looks at you with rounded eyes for the briefest moment that easily translates to mrs. kim ___, wife of kadore’s chairman who married her husband for money.

but all you can afford to do is keep your head up until you reached the bathroom door, check each stall one by one to make sure no one’s inside before you finally set down the document and your handbag on the sink. the first sob hits the air as soon as you see the woman in the reflection’s reddening eyes and smudged makeup.

it takes you several breath-holding, eyes-shutting and a couple more sobs breaking through the cracks of your walls before you can finally pat some powder onto the patch of skin under your eyes and on your cheeks where most of the damage was done. by the time you’re back in the hallway with shades darker than the night sky, you find your feet melting and becoming one with the floor at the sight of a man with jet black hair standing at the reception.

and almost as though sensing the heat of your gaze through your ray bans, the man turns around to reveal a pair of doe brown eyes and the smile you’re so used to seeing now missing in action and replaced with a straight line.

“jungkook...”

“how’d you know i’d be here?” you start once you’ve both placed an order for your drinks at the counter.

“how long are you going to keep doing this?” instead of answering your question with a real answer, jungkook heaves out a sigh, eyebrows knitting together in vexation as he fixes you with one of those ‘i’m not telling mom and dad but this is our problem now’ kind of look.

“how ever long it takes,” is all you say, reverting your gaze to the smooth surface of the table.

“are those the divorce papers?” you refuse to look at him but you know he’s burning holes inside the beige colored folder sitting underneath your handbag on the seat between you and him.

“i don’t know,” you shrug, shoulders squared as you meet his eyes through your shades, “i haven’t opened it yet.”

but jungkook being jungkook, he takes that as a bare affirmation, choosing to interrogate you on a different topic, “have you seen what people have been saying about you?"

“i don’t really care about what people say,” is all you have to offer.

“you haven’t,” he nods in conclusion, “they’re saying you can’t have enough of your husband’s money... they’re saying you’re coming here everyday to grovel over his mother’s feet to let you stay married - that’s how i know you’d be here. and judging from the looks of it, they’re not too far off.”

it takes you a good solid minute to stomach the new found information. you haven’t been checking social media because of those same exact malicious comments but that was just the beginning of a downward spiral of your reputation - you never thought your efforts and hard work of burning your fingers on hot stoves and redoing dishes to get a perfect one would be met with an assumption of groveling over mrs. kim’s feet all for your husband’s money.

“god, i need a smoke,” jungkook huffs, receiving a look from the waiter that’s setting your drinks down. only after she’s gone does he present you with another set of questions. “was he the one that paid off dad’s debts? all of them? even the loan sharks?”

“that...” you nod once, failing to keep your head high as you twirl the straw of your frappe around but don’t even take a sip, “and the money i said i had saved up and lent you to start your company,” you quickly add,“- but taehyung doesn’t care about that - he wouldn’t accept it even if you wanted to pay him back twice the amount.”

“then why are you...” it’s the way his voice breaks at the end that makes you look up only to see a man whose eyes are a little sunken and cheeks a little hollow - almost as if he hasn’t been sleeping nor eating well because of his foolish sister, “why are you letting that woman trample all over you like this? wouldn’t it be easier to just get a divorce-”

“that woman is my mother in law, jungkook. at least, practice the same level of respect you’ve been preaching about,” you speak over him - it’s funny how taehyung once stood up against the same woman you’re standing up for, for you.

when all that follows is silence, you go on. this time, in a much demurred tone, “and it’s not about letting myself get trampled over... if mom found out you lied about something and she’s acting like mother does because she’s hurt, would you just go on with your life like nothing happened?”

it takes a moment for him to register what you said before taking on a much less hostile tone though still just as firm, “___, this is your life... i don’t know what kind of ‘happy family’ delusion you’ve been living in but i’m willing to bet all my money that it’s not taehyung that gave you those papers to sign and made you cry in the bathroom stall for thirty minutes-” he throws you look, “yeah, i saw you go into the washroom after coming out of her room. i was gonna call you but you looked like you had to take a huge dump so i waited but we know that’s not the case now.”

silence lapses between you for the umpteenth time before you stubbornly announce, “i could’ve been taking a dump - you don’t know.”

the sight of jungkook’s jaw dropping and hitting the ground is laughable, if not for the fact that he’s shaking his head five seconds later. vexed. irritated, “this is getting ridiculous - we’re going home. now.”

and he doesn’t mean the penthouse that you and taehyung shares.

shooting up, his hand grasps your wrist and he would have dragged you all the way to the car if you hadn’t protested.

“jungkook, no - i’m not going anywhere,” pulling your hand back, you stand a good one head shorter in front of your brother which doesn’t do much for your cause.

“___, if not for you then do it for mom and dad - they’re getting too old to be worrying about their one and only daughter’s marriage prospect,” he tries to coax, knowing full well your heart would wither like a flower at the mention of your parents worrisome nature - especially when your business is out in the open no matter how hard you try to hide it, “and you haven’t been answering their calls either.”

“i know, i just-” before you can even finish your sentence, a flash of garnet and bridal pink catches your eyes.

“____... jungkook, i didn’t think you’d be in korea. how are you?” taehyung’s warm baritone is laced with confusion as he stares at your brother and then at you for a sort of explanation but before you can even open your mouth, jungkook’s already has his hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, “yeah, well someone’s gotta clean up the mess you started. ___’s coming back home with me - back to her real home.”

“i’m not - stop saying that and let me go,” you tug on your wrist only to wince at the pressure of his grasp, “jungkook, you’re hurting me!”

“hey, let my wife go,” taehyung takes a peaceful step forward, “we can talk ab-”

“oh no,” the laugh tumbling out of jungkook’s mouth drips with malice, “no, see, you lost your knight in shining armor privilege after you quite literally lied to our faces about how you’ll take care of my sister until ‘death do you apart’ when all it took was mommy dearest pretending to get sick while everyone labels my sister a gold-digging wh-”

you taking a step forward with a balled fist, is completely instinctive and you would say taehyung prancing towards the dark haired man with a fist that actually hits the mark, was also instinct-driven. except that he probably has better aim and his punches hurt more than yours ever would.

the first one, you admit was satisfying but when your brother ends up on the ground with your husband throwing blow after blow, you have no choice but to intervene.

“taehyung, stop!” the shriek that echoes against the walls almost burst your eardrums. you would have believed it to be mrs. kim if not for the fact that she’s nowhere in sight and you’re the one with your hands grasping onto your husband’s arms, trying to hold him back from sending blow after blow onto your brother’s half-conscious face.

“taehyung, don’t stop,” you frown, taking a seat next to him while swiping the ice bag off his lap before gently pressing it to his darkened jawline, “seokjin said to keep the ice on the bruise for at least an hour.”

“ahhh - ow - ow-!” the man whines, eyes screwed shut as his grits his teeth together but doesn’t recoil from your touch.

“maybe you should’ve thought twice about throwing a punch at a trained boxer,” you shake your head, lips curling into an inevitable smile.

after taehyung’s had a round of punches in, jungkook managed to flip them over so that he’s the one pinning the elder man down. the events that unfolded after that were the least bit pretty. the nurses and doctors attending nearby patients rushed to the two struggling men and then there’s you, shifting the shouting to your brother to “god damn it, jungkook! stop being a dick!”

it took five men - doctors and just-arrived guards alike - to pry your brother off your husband who still tried to get a punch in and was held back by seokjin who finally arrived at the scenes with half a mind to knock the both of them out as he calmly orders for jungkook to be dragged into one of those empty rooms akin to the one mrs. kim is staying at.

because taehyung was the one who started the fight, seokjin decided that an ice pack would do for the taller man whilst he treats jungkook and orders the other doctors to go back to their post.

picking up the mixture of garnet and bridal pink roses, he stares at their wilted petals for the longest moment, face painted with dejection. they must have been specifically ordered for mrs. kim-

“these are for you,” your train of thoughts halts in its track at taehyung’s words. his hand levitating midair as though unsure of whether to hand the bouquet to you or toss them away, “or were,” then he captures your gaze and you don’t think you can ever find your way out of the maze he’s able to hold you captive in with just his eyes, “you deserve fresh flowers specifically plucked from its stalk - you deserve a whole garden, actually-”

“taehyung,” your free hand covers his as if to say, “they’re lovely, thank you.” placing the ice pack down, you cup both hands around the flowers, bringing them to your nose, “and they smell wonderful - i love pink roses.”

“i know,” the tiniest smile peeks from his lips, “you told me that.”

“i did?” you blink, surprised.

“at our wedding reception, you got a little tipsy and started sobbing because the roses were blush pink and not bridal pink,” the sound of his chuckles drums in your ears like hymns just like it did a year ago.

back when you were decked in an elegant off shoulder white gown after changing out of your wedding dress. you’d stood in the sidelines while your families and friends danced to their hearts’ content to the sound of the music. white champagne in your hand, the background beginning to turn fuzzy and your thoughts began to get louder.

it didn’t help that the object of your frustrations was smack dab covering every inch of the vicinity from the gargantuan rose covered backdrop, to the tiny vases in every single table.

the sob hits the air like the first raindrop. you had to clasp your hand to your mouth as if you were about to cough to hide your mouth stretching into your crying mouth - you don’t know how to explain it but your lips tend to morph into an unshapely sight whenever you cry and covering it when you feel the waterworks coming has always been second nature. as for the tears - they were concealable because the lights were dim enough.

but then there was someone next to you - he just popped up out of nowhere really and because you were standing in the darkest corner, you couldn’t pick out any defining features besides his height but you didn’t have much time to ponder on that as his question fills your eardrums, “so, how does saying goodbye to the bachelorette life feels like?”

“it’s terrible,” you’d wept some more and he shifted on his feet slightly, as though noticing the tear in your voice but luckily for him, he didn’t even have to ask because you were spilling your innermost thoughts out loud, “they- they gave me blush pink and garnet roses- i want bridal pink and garnet roses.”

“oh,” distinctively rang in your ears among the sound of instruments and joyful laughter.

then comes another input, “i didn’t know they messed up your request,” and you didn’t know why he’d sounded like he was about to murder someone.

“yeah and,” you sniffle, “- and i didn’t wanna say anything because- because i don’t wanna be that bratty bride who picks on every little detail.”

that morning, you woke up to a box full of roses and they were the lightest shade of pink. taehyung was already awake and offered to ring up breakfast for the both of you after he’d bid you a good morning and a “something came in for you.”

the gifts were prearranged to be sent to the penthouse instead of your suite but then again, there were chocolates and champagne bottles that made past the hotel doors because of its edible nature - the roses too... their fleeting livelihood seemed like you’d enjoy them better in your hotel room than a week later after you’d come back from your honeymoon.

the card didn’t even leave initials but had ‘roses for a rose’ playfully written in cursive black ink. your heart blooms a garden but your head is what makes you search for your newly wed husband, only to see him looking at you with a tender smile - one that you thought manifested because of your own involuntary smile when you’d read the note.

“i don’t think these are for us,” you could feel the frown setting into your features, causing taehyung’s own brows to furrow.

“i think these are for... me,” and so you told a tale of a woman with ambitions rather than stars in her eyes, who felt a compulsion to at least tell the truth to her husband and the stranger whom she met at her wedding. of course, omitting the teary eyed part and the blush and bridal pink roses part.

taehyung had easily chuckled while the staff set down plates of delicacies on the round meant-for-two-people-on-a-honeymoon table, saying, “he has fine taste - they’re from halls & tara,” after the staff left.

it didn’t occur to you that the h&t initials on the top right corner of the card stood for the most well known florist in seoul until he’d pointed it out, which could only mean he’d been suspicious enough to take longer than a glance at the flowers.

“do you mind if i keep them? at least, until they’re not as fresh anymore.” you quickly added the last part.

“you can keep them in a vase and have them live longer... why? are they not the shade of pink you wanted?” he blinked once, hand halting midair as he was about to take a mouthful of pancakes.

“well- no, they’re perfect actually - i love them,” you almost stutter in your haste to explain while trying to be casual about how devastated you would be if- “it’s just that... i really didn’t know him or who he was- but he obviously knew me because it’s hard not to know the lady of the day- i’m not breaching any terms-”

it’s the way the trickles of laughter filling the otherwise silent room that got you to clamp your mouth shut. the way kim taehyung looked so ethereal and majestic in the pristine black and white setting of the room.

“i don’t mind,” he’d clarified a moment later, eyes twinkling with the remnants of laughter, “i understand why he’d want to desperately send you these if only to see you smile softly like you did - you look beautiful when you smile, by the way.”

the compliment had caught you off guard and your heart might or might not have somersaulted but if there’s anything seven years of becoming a stewardess has taught you, it was to always prepare an adequate response to every situation - and at that time, kim taehyung was infamous for his quick wits and reputation with the ladies. of course, words sweet as honey would come easy for him.

“thank you,” and so were the words of gratitude on your part as you schooled a smile and dug into the pancakes your husband made.

but sitting on the black leather couch, holding onto a similar colored bouquet, you can’t help but blurt out, “that was you? i was bawling my eyes out because of some mismanagement to my husband who didn’t even recognize?” something between a disbelieving scoff and an irony-induced laugh escapes your mouth, “why didn’t you tell me?”

taehyung’s shoulder line shakes as he shrugs, hand going up to scratch the back of his head as he drops his gaze, as if searching for the answer only to look back up into your eyes with a, “i didn’t think you’d be as happy if you knew it was me,” his gaze falters, like a bud of fear blooming behind his irises,

“why wouldn’t i be?” you blink once, not quite understanding where he’s coming from.

that is, until a small smile slips onto his lips and it’s heartbreaking to witness and even more devastating to know you’re in no place to let your arms gather him into a hug like you wish. to kiss his forehead until his worries disappear.

he twines his fingers with yours, thumbing the diamond on your fourth finger, “i’m sorry that i took away your choice to marry for love - that’s a bit corny isn’t it?” he scrunches his nose and you can’t help but giggle, “it’s not just some short term contract since we both agreed divorce is never in the equation,” neither of you believe in tainting the sanctity of marriage - no matter what cause it was founded upon - with separation, “but god, the things you’re going through right now - i promise i’ll make things right.”

taehyung’s eyes tend to appear in different shades along with his emotions - though you know it’s most probably the lighting. dark brown is for when he’s scrutinizing the hollow smiles and empty compliments he gets at functions. but sometimes you find yourself catching hazel.

like right now, as they capture yours and look at you as if you’re the only one he sees.

“taehyung...” you thought you knew what you wanted to say when you said his name but as you get lost in the midnight dessert of his eyes, you’re not sure if you can even muster so much as a squeak without falling apart.

and that’s when a knock reverberates into the air like thunder, forcing you to jolt away from the man until no part of you is touching any part of him.

“hey,” a somber voice greets as jungkook leans against the doorframe, “so they fixed me up and the chairman wants me gone in,” he looks down at his wrist, “two minutes and fifty-three seconds.”

blinking away the remnants of the emotions away, you stand up, giving the man a once over. his button up is marred with a trickle of deep red a few inches over his chest, hair matted and face sporting different stages of bruising. the bleeding’s stopped for the most part.

“you’ve definitely seen better days,” you announce, walking around the couch to get to where the man is rolling his eyes at.

“sorry for calling you the w-word,” that’s definitely wasn’t what you were expecting which prompts the belated, almost suspicion induced,“...okay.”

“i did that because i needed to confirm something,” he goes on, eyes flitting over your shoulder where you know your husband is staring right back, burning holes inside your brother’s head before he looks back at you, taking a full 180 in attiude, “and don’t worry about mom and dad - i’ll take care of them.”

it takes you a moment to digest his proclamation, all the whilst hyperly aware of the hand that makes its way on your lower back as a familiar dior scent fills your senses, “so you’re not gonna drag me home?” as though disbelieving the words that came out of your mouth, you add, “that’s all it takes? a few punches to the face?”

the twitch of his eyebrow doesn’t go unnoticed by you. nor does the deep breath he forces himself to take at the blatant insult and insinuation of your future boxing lessons to which he warns, “don’t get any crazy ideas,” then he turns to the man next to you, “i let you hit me - let’s get that out of the way first.”

and before either you or taehyung manage to get a word in, jungkook hand comes flying to your forehead, a loud sound of skin smacking against skin echoing throughout the room as you tumble backwards with an audible “ow- hey!”, barely noticing the much larger hand that’s covering yours. inspecting the patch of skin where jungkook just flicked.

without even an apology for the uncalled for assault, he nods at something over your head, probably taehyung, “you take care of my sister, you hear me? cause there won’t be a second time.”

and then he’s gone like the wind - you would have tracked down that wind and give him a taste of his own medicine like you did when you were children. you’d jump on his back and attempt to bite a chunk of his head if your nannies didn’t pull you apart  - but right now, you couldn’t escape taehyung’s hand on your waist even if you wanted to.

“let me see,” he instructs, gently coaxing your hand to unclasp the patch of skin on your forehead so he could softly blow on it.

you stay like that, standing at the doorway with your bodies too close and taehyung refusing to unhand you until your cheeks are replaced with a different kind of heat than the anger you felt for your god forsaken brother.

“god he’s an ass - you should’ve messed up his face more,” you huff, and you don’t know why - maybe it’s the way you stomp your foot, maybe it’s the way your cheeks tend to puff when you’re feeling vindictive or maybe it’s a mystery locked in taehyung’s head that you’ll never know but his chuckles sound like hymns in your ears.

and you thought that was the end of the electrified sensation on your skin where his touch lingers until you feel a pair of the softest lips on your forehead, right where the flick was supposed to throb. a grinning taehyung looking back at you as if asking, “my nanny used to do this to me when i bump my knee against a furniture...” a flash of worry blooms in his eyes for the briefest moment before he voices his concerns, “hope the magic still works.

the sight is heartwarming. endearing even. and you can’t help smile, cheeks hot, “it does - it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

and just as you thought he’s about to release you from the torment of having your heart skip multiple beats at a time and step back, he presses another peck on your forehead. a smile gracing his features, “another one for good measure.”

it’s a surprise your legs are still holding you up with how jelly-like they’ve become.

“th-thank you.”

mrs. kim discharged herself a week after the fight but not without standing in front of the hospital with her frilly fur coat and gucci handbag while she looks at the camera and consequently straight into the screen, “i have yet received a publicly apology for what jeon jungkook did to mine by the jeons. my taehyung couldn’t even kill a fly, let alone start a fist fight-” she shivers uncontrollably as though overcome with chills, “such a barbaric, uncivilized act can only come from-”

“you’re watching that?” a smooth baritone fills the room as a figure struts in beige slacks and oversized creme sweater, “again?”

he sits on the edge the backrest of the couch, looking down at you with an expression that makes your stomach churn. with butterflies or guilt for breaking your promise to stop checking out these articles, you don’t know.

“sorry,” you mumble, placing the ipad down a few inches from your feet as you bring your legs up against your chest, arms wrapped tightly around them, “worrying about how the press twists mother’s words comes from the plentiful of time i have on my hands after being sacked, i guess.”

it’s been a week since you’ve received your new schedule. to which you received a call right after to head to the headquarters in the heart of seoul only to be told that-

“___, you gotta understand, this whole fiasco going on with your family... it’s giving the airline a bad rep,” mr. bang leaned back against his recliner, his eyes hiding behind the beam of his glasses, “people are leaving bad reviews on the website that has absolutely nothing to do with our services but has everything to do with you and your husband.”

he meant the growing dissatisfaction upon the revelation of the artificiality of you and taehyung’s marriage.

nobody’s caught jungkook and taehyung in a video but there’d been witnesses and ‘sources’ affirming the two getting into a fistfight at the hospital. and so another record has been made in your long list of family drama.

“sir, please,” you could feel your eyebrows joining together from the sheer frustration and reality anchoring into the pit of your stomach, “i’ve been working for korean air -for seven years now- check my reconds,” hope blooms in your chest as you suggest the idea to your superior, “i’ve never been late, never had a customer complain about me, never made any mistakes prior to this-”

“it doesn’t matter what you did before this, ___,” he cut you off, voice heavy with emphasis.

but you weren’t backing out that easy, “please, it’s not fair to lay me off for something i have zero control in.”

at your wording, the man physically flinched, almost as though struck by a spear before he shook his head, denying your claims.

“you’re not fired,” he corrected, “you’re on paid leave... until everything calms down.”

it took everything in you not to let the frown slip onto your face. first it’s paid leave and then it a one month notice before they officially sack you - you’ve seen how this played out one too many times.

so you smiled, “with all due respect, mr. bang, how long is ‘until everything calms down’?”

the man’s shoulder line jolted as he shrugged, lower lip jutted out in a nonchalant nature, “that depends on how you choose to solve it, ___... i assume you are working on a solution, yes?”

it was a trick question. if you answered the affirmative, it’d be admitting what mrs. kim and almost everyone have been demanding - a divorce. if you answered no, then you’re as good as jobless.

“my husband and i are working on it,”  was all you say.

when taehyung found out later that night - he was livid. he was a phone call away from calling up mr. ji to sue the airline for discrimination. it took you stealing his phone away and running around the penthouse until you made him promise that he’d listen to you first.

he did, and you’d wanted to wait it out and see because, “there isn’t any damage to build our ground on anyway because i’m not fired yet.”

“well, dinner’s ready ” taehyung’s soft as silk voice tears you apart from your memroies, hand levitating midair until you take it, hoisting yourself up.

taehyung pushes himself off the couch, walking on the other side with your hand in his. it’s comical but endearing all at once and you giggle at how neither of you are willing to let the other go even though you’ll have to once you reach the four-people dining table.

“thank you,” you say as you lower yourself on the seat while he pushes the chair in for you.

home cooked meals have become a norm for the both of you ever since that day taehyung punched jungkook in the face. at first, you insisted that you should be the one cooking since he was injured but he stayed with you in the kitchen and you talked about your day and reminisced about your childhood and how you similarly had nannies that forbade you from coming into the kitchen.

then there was the peck on the top of your forehead he started doing a few days ago after you were sat and before he went around the table to get to his seat that’s across from you.

“did you go shopping today?” he asks in between cutting up the steak which he stole a whole plate from you into mini slices.

“yeah, with hwasa,” you nod - the woman had been all too delighted to see you after mismatched schedules and ghostly texts because of life and work getting in the way.

“the friend from high school?” taehyung surprises you yet again as he places your plate back in front of you, this time with the pieces all cut into edible bites. you’ve never mentioned hwasa to him - but it’s not a lie that she’s your closest friend from high school who got accepted into the same training programme as you at the beginning of your career.

“thank you-” you shoot him a smile before picking up the fork and knife, “and yeah, that’s her. we haven’t seen each other for months so we kind of went a little crazy with the dresses.”

he doesn’t look up when he speaks his next words which is why you have a trouble digesting them as you involuntarily blurt out a, “sorry- what?”

“the dresses you bought,” he reiterates, an amused smile on his lips - possibly because of your almost-choked state, “- can i see them?”

“oh,” clear your throat once, sipping down the red wine before chuckling nervously, “hwasa bought dresses - didn’t.”

taehyung hums, head tilting to the side as though trying to capture your avoidant gaze, “then put on whatever you bought that i saw lying on your bed - the door was open when i passed your room.”

at that moment, to say your heart quite literally crash against the floor, would be an understatement. it takes you a minute to gather yourself, another to force out a laugh as you attempt to brush the thought of taehyung seeing the black and red laces from savage x fenty hwasa adamantly insited you get after a story time on why you decided to get married to how something has definitely shifted between you and taehyung.

but no amount of gushing and squealing about made up scenarios brewing from hwasa’s little head could prepare you for what’s happening right at this moment.

“oh those?” a chuckle, “those are aren’t even worth showing.”

and just as you thought he’ll let the matter go like he would when you dismissively mention something that he inquired about, taehyung takes a full 180, eyes clouded with a sort of emotion you don’t dare delve into, “that’s for me to decide,” he takes a sip of the wine, pushing his chair back as he stands up, “i’m done,” with that, he places his plate down where geom, your mixed breen papillion and silky terrier shouts out an appreciative woof at the pleasant surprise.

patting the canine briefly, he turns to you, those clouded eyes seeping into your soul, “put them on - i’ll be waiting in my room.”

his footsteps echo against the walls as he ascends the stairs and disappears into the hallway where his room lies across from yours. it is a whole solid minute later, once you hear the door of his room click shut, that you make a beeline for the couch where your phone lies lonely.

dialing up the only person you know you can hold accountable for, you quite literally scream at the ‘hell-’ with a “hwasa, he wants me to put the lingerie on and show him!”

while your voice drips with dread, the other woman, choosing to be willfully oblivious, screams into your ears, “oh my god - oh my god. then what are you doing calling me?! go put them on!”

and that’s how you end up holding in a breath while deliberately repeating hwasa’s not so helpful pep talk of ‘you’re the hottest’ and ‘kim taehyung will be wrapped around your fingers by the end of the night!’

“but it’s been over a year - i’m not sure if i even know how to moan!” you’d protested while pull the strap of the garter around your thigh.

that was half an hour ago.

now, you’re debating on whether to knock like you would have before you started cuddling into the other while watching tv. but before that, you’d never did anything together unless it was family dinners and gatherings.

so you opt for pushing down the handle. the sharp ‘click’ being the only announcement of your entrance. taehyung’s walls are a deep shade of maroon almost black with the lights on its lowest setting. the sound of music playing in the background barely registers in your mind as you focus your attention to the figure that’s pushing himself up from his laying down position.

you resist the temptation to run and hide under the comfort your covers - an opposed response compared to your confident stride, placing one foot after the other until you stand a good two feet away from the bed and taehyung.

“what do you think?” the smile brandished over your face is nothing like your racing heart whlist you do a little twirl- but then again, you’ve always been such an actress.

“if the world were made of diamonds, i’d choose the rose before me... because you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever laid eyes on,” you wonder how he doesn’t even blink as those words pour out of his mouth, hand finding its way in the dip of your waist. staring. admiring.

“always the charmer,” you want to curse yourself for the unoriginal come back yet taehyung doesn’t seem to notice as he lets you push him to the bed whilst his eyes undress what little piece of clothing you have on as you crawl on top of him.

your toes curl at the sound of taehyung’s excruciatingly slow exhalation - almost as though he intends for it to caress your ears and seep into your pores before settling into the pit of your core.

the sharp charm of dior fills your senses as you place kisses on his neck, tucking his flesh between your teeth ever so gently, not expecting the delectable surprise that slips out of his mouth.

who would have thought kim taehyung was a moaner?

the giggle that trickles out of your mouth is blamelessly involuntary but catches his attention nonetheless, “what?”

“oh, nothing,” you nibble on his earlobe before whispering into his ears, “just thinking of how cute you’ll look moaning for me.”

and you’ve easily add to the long list of things you won’t forgive yourself in the morning. yet you still caress his growing size through his pants, giggling when the delicious sound hits the air for the second time.

“take it out,” he whimpers after one too many teases, “please.”

“only because you said please,” the way his chin tilts to follow your lips after you pecked them doesn’t go unnoticed by you but you clasp your hand against his chest, pinning him down with a shake of your head “uh-uh, you get up when i tell you to.”

the excruciating ‘fuck’ that leaves his lips is what truly lights up the flame in the pit of your stomach. you watch as his hand goes up to run through his hair in a sexually frustrated nature but doesn’t attempt to push himself up after that.

it only takes a few pumps for the clear fluid of precum to trickle over your hand, letting you smear all over his hardened dick and causing it to glisten underneath the luminescence of the room.

sparks shoot through your core and strike your heart into an erratic rhythm when you lower yourself over him, holding the slit of the black lace undergarment apart until he’s hitting every delicious inch inside of you.

you’ve barely even started to move when you break out into a cry, falling into his arms like a puppet whose strings got cut off. the arms around you are gentle as they hold you against him until you’ve come down from your high.

by the time you push yourself up, your knees are still trembling yet you nod when he cups your cheeks and forces you to look into those concern filled eyes, “are you good?”

“i’m fine,” the sniffle is probably the last thing you need to convince him, “i lost myself for a moment.”

this time, it’s his turn to chuckle, lips curling into a smirk, “it’s completely understandable to admit that you couldn’t hold out for more than a minute because i stretched you out so good.”

you want to protest - want to gain back the control you lost when he hit that sweet spot not even, yes, as he says, a minute into taking him in. but one single thrust right against that same exact spot and you’re whimpering in utter submission and devotion.

“that’s what i thought,” that damned smirk is the last thing you see before you succumb to his every wishes and command until you find yourself with a strong arm banded over your stomach, another arm reaching for a pillow and puffing it up before you feel yourself being gently lowered face flushed into it - the smallest gesture of tenderness that you didn’t expect to witness when you decided to tease him in the beginning.

the yelp when taehyung’s hands slip under the strap of the garter, doesn’t even manage to form fully when a moan replaces it as he yanks the garter and consequently, your ass against him, forcing you to swallow his entire length in one stroke.

“god, you’re so big,” if you were a little sober and a whole lot more conscious, you would have added that into the list of things you said that you would cringe at in the morning.

but you’re already one orgasm down in the foreseeable long list of orgasms that kim taehyung promises you as he sinks into you, moaning out your name like a holy mantra.

“i know you love it,” he agrees oh so innocently for someone who’s about to thrust into you like a godless being.

five strokes in and you’re cursing and screaming out in pleasure, hands gripping onto the duvet for dear life as you feel you convulse into a state of toe-curling euphoria. the way taehyung stops moving and trails down butterfly kisses down your back until the tensed muscles in your lower abdomen simmers down into pleasured twitches, doesn’t go by you.

“you can move now,” another sniffle, but this one has completely and irrevocably succumbed to your rawest desires.

it’s the soft chuckle and the one last peck on your left shoulder blade that has your heart stuttering. ungodly opposite to the way he moves his hips as he thrusts into you without so much as a warning - your last two orgasms were just preambles. ones out of the many that night that has you writhing and moaning in pleasure. some of which were incited by sides of you, you didn’t know existed.

the last thing you recall is taehyung gathering you in his arms like he couldn’t bear to be apart from you even in his sleep now that he’s had a taste. it’s endearing and daunting all at once. because for the first time since your marriage, you’re afraid of losing him.

a few days after that, you’re tying away on your macbook when taehyung comes home looking less like the man you knew. his hair, disheveled from having run his hand through them more than his hair gel allows. his eyes, carrying a sort of weight that latches onto him like parasites - or maybe that’s just the papparazzo that you noticed have been following you around. their numbers have decreased considerably after the rumor of taehyung hiring a team of lawyers which was no rumor at all.

it was the morning after you woke up with tingly legs barely able to function like it should and muscles sore but a sort of fullness in your chest when you noticed the man whose arms are wraped around you like a protective cocoon as he faintly snored away.

then came the muted sound of your phone from the other side of the hallway where your room door beckons you into its domain. it wasn’t as obnoxiously loud since it was at least twenty feet away and you would have ignored it and gone back to bed if not for the short interval signaling the person calling had finally reached the mailbox or hung up on their own. that was, before they hit call for the second time.

slipping out of taehyung’s arms, you trudged to your room with half a mind to give whoever this caller is a piece of your mind - god’s sake, the flashy red digits on your alarm clock stares at you at 5:23 in the morning.

“this better be good, hwasa or i swear-” before you can even finish the woman is already screaming into your ear like she’s being chased by an axe murderer.

“oh my god, oh my god - have you seen the news?!” except no woman chased by a murderer would sound this exhilarated, she went on before you could even get a “no one in their right mind would be checking the news at ass crack-” out.

“oh shoot, it’s still 5 something in korea, isn’t it?” she gasped - if you weren’t on paid leave, you’d be in hong kong, probably sharing rooms and getting tipsy in some club there, “but anyway, kadore’s chairman is suing insight, pullbbang and other websites for slander!” she shrieked.

"what?” you could feel the muscles on your face pulling into a contorted confusion but

after hanging up and telling hwasa you were going to look into the matter some more, you’d come up with multiple articles stating a similar fact as your overly enthusiastic best friend did. still in denial, you’d confronted your husband about it- he was still sleeping soundly when you strutted in and shook him up to which he confessed, eyes droopy and face puffy. the sight was so foreign to you because you were used to seeing him fresh and suited up but you’d found yourself making a little space in your heart for barely-just-woken-up-taehyung to reside in.

first came anger - you didn’t ask for him to do this, “what would everyone think if i went to you crying about a little bit of criticism for something i did do?” then came confusion because what exactly did you do that was so horrendously heineous to warrant these websites to write such malicious statements about you?

taehyung had seen every flash of emotions that pooled in your eyes and tugged on your fingers - you weren’t sure if he’d meant it but it successfully pulled you from drowning in your own thoughts, “i told you i’d make things right - these people won’t be able to say another word about you unless it’s the truth- that you’re a hardworking, amazing woman who deserves everything she has and yes,” he fixed you the most tender, sleepy smile “that includes the money i make - what’s the point of working if i can’t even provide my wife with the best?”

taehyung tosses the beige tuxedo onto the handrest of the couch adjacent to where you’re sitting with one leg up in nothing but a loose fitted sweater that hangs off your left shoulder. the half empty wine glass lies untouched on the coffee table since you’d put it down.

with a thump, he sinks himself into the leather material of the couch, hands cupping his face, as though if he rubs it hard enough, the deadset frown would go away.

before you know it, you’re padding over to the couch he’s on, hands finding their ways onto his shoulders, massaging the noticeable tension in his muscles until a grateful sigh slips out of his mouth, hand guiding your own to his lips where he presses a kiss on your knuckles.

only when you go around to take the spot next to him, hand smoothing out his hair, do you finally say, “is it the board again?”

mina has been keeping you updated on the turbulence that was caused by your fraudulent marriage being exposed. the chairman seat became taehyung by default when he got married as per his father’s will. but the board members have been vocal about abrogating his rights to succeeding kadore.

“there’s talk about votes demoting me to director,” he’s never sound so fragile - in taehyung’s long list of fluctuating interest from women and men to art and sculptures and to yatches and sports cars, kadore is probably the only thing he’s ever taken seriously.

you would know - seeing him decked in armani with soft wavy hair contrasting his strong features, weren’t your only reason for accepting his proposal of marriage. it had more to do with the way he spoke about the company. in a dimly lit room just like now, with a wine glass in his hand and the cityscape underneath that gave an illusion of stilled fireflies scattered all across the city, taehyung had spoken of his unforgivable regrets. the deals he’d let pass by. the merges he’d settled with instead of aiming higher. the brands he didn’t reach out to.

those regrets birthed fears and those fears were what made him even entertain the notion of a beneficial marriage.

or as the board likes to call it, an atrociously wickedly schemed marriage.

“they won’t have a ground to depose you to a director’s position if they can’t provide a solid reason,” you say and he blinks, clueless, hopeless.

it’s almost as if you’re facing a whole different man.

“what do you mean?”

“i’m talking about us doing what we do best,” you fix him a smile - one that probably needs a little convincing and grounding but a smile nonetheless, “we show them that the kims aren’t to be messed with,” you pause, letting the silence settle into brimming suspense before finally saying, “it’s been awhile since we’ve made a public appearance together, hasn’t it? how does lunch sound like?”

and so goes your multiple appearances in the most top notch restaurant together. the lack of chauffeur wasn’t intentional but helpful nonetheless to prove that the chairman was hopeless and irrevocably mad for his wife that he’d drive all the way to wherever she was to pick her up and then drive them to the designated restaurant instead of the convenience of meeting at said restaurant from wherever you both were prior to that.

then there was the hand holding, hip grabbing and not going a minute without smiling and giggling about what the other said. to outsiders, it would have looked as if things hadn’t been all that different - except you’d finally came out of your 1 billion doller cave after the whole ‘fiasco’ with your families. but it was the little hand kisses and forehead pecks in between taehyung making mini runs to get to your side to open your car door.

and the ‘how was your day’s and which are followed by a ‘you’re still deadset on working, huh?’s each time you told him about your in-the-work resume since you’re ‘at the risk of getting a notice of resignation any time soon’.

“what if you started your own business? i could buy a whole building in nonhyeon-dong that you could make as your headquarters?” he offers in between twirling the pasta around his fork after you insisted that- “my job is the only thing that i’ve got going on for me to prove that i’m not a gold-digger that everyone thinks i am.”

“i was thinking more like travelling from place to place like...” you shoot him a ‘you know’ smile before adding, “a cabin crew.”

“one of korean air’s biggest shareholders are letting go of her stock because her color pencil business isn’t doing so well these days,” he nods, deeply contemplative, “they’re gonna be sacking a few employees if they don’t get buyers by the next two months,” he surmises with a concluding nod to which you end up laughing and almost choking on your food.

picking up the water on your right, you quickly gulp it down before clarifying as to why you found his statement so funny that you’d risk your esophagus in the process, “no, tae,” that nickname is also one of the little things that just happens - you don’t miss the tuck in the corners of his lips when it slips off your tongue, “it’s sweet of you to want to buy me a share of the airline i’m working for but that’s the thing, it’s your money,” you reach out for his hand, smiling when he meets yours halfway.

a warm pressure engulfs your hand as he squeezes briefly, “and i told you, what’s mine is yours.”

“likewise,” you fix him a grateful smile, “but i like flying. i like being a cabin crew - on top of holding onto my job to prove people wrong, of course.”

the longest pause hovers over you like a grey clouds with taehyung’s beautiful but contemplating eyes holding you captive. as though trying to take you out part by part, trying to figure you out.

“then, what would you like me to do?” the question catches you off guard, like being hit by a wild baseball even though you’re walking right next to a baseball field, “you’ve always been so good at taking care of yourself - when you broke down in front of me... at the hospital... i didn’t know what to do-” his lips quiver just the slightest bit, almost as though holding back invisible tears, “tell me what to do. because it feels like everything i do isn’t the slightest bit helpful. ”

all of a sudden, the sands of time seem to have stopped, levitating midair within the dip of the hourglass. it’s daunting but heartbreaking at the same time - the sight of raw fear and uncertainty that’s pooling within taehyung’d eyes like unmoving river - you never knew your attempts to hold up your values reflects as a declaration of nonessential to taehyung’s own attempts to reach out to you.

“i don’t need you - to fight my battles, to solve my problems for me - though i’m immensely grateful that you did,” you say after what feels like an eternity, “but i want you so... stay as you are, supporting me like you’re doing now.”

“i don’t know if that counts as support - i’m not doing anything,” he counters, eyes downcasted until you reach out your other hand to cover his that’s already holding your left hand.

“you are - you never invalidated my feelings of wanting to work, you encouraged me to do bigger things and that means you believe in me - maybe i will take up that offer in the future but right now, i want to keep doing what i always have been,” you fix him a smile, “and i want to do it with you by my side.”

the tiniest of smile that slips onto his face tells you that his heart is still in a state of unrest. unconvinced. but he’s trying as he nods, “if that’s what you want,” and you thought that’s the end of it. until the foreshadowing “but,” that comes a second later, “i’m not gonna stop worrying and trying to fix things - we’re married, your problems are my problems too.”

the chuckle escapes your mouth signifies the good natured jest of your next words as you summon your hands back, already missing the warmth of his much larger ones around you, “well we weren’t exactly on that term until just recently.”

a shadow casts itself over taehyung’s handsome face as he picks up his fork, “that’s something i’ll regret for the rest of my life - not getting to know you beyond the contract sooner.”

“everyone makes mistakes,” you shrug before taking a peek at his expression as you mention a certain free spirited woman, “besides, you were too caught up with jeongyeon on our first year of marriage.”

she had been one of the few people who’d managed to bring out a side of taehyung you never knew existed.

boyish. bratty. someone who actually bicker and whines about the littlest things and everything that was on the opposite spectrum the crisp, suit-wearing, slicked back hair, charming man you married. sometimes, when you go out to dinners or the little moments when you find yourselves alone while attending functions, you see glimpses of that playful, boyish side of him. the human side of him.

over time, you realize that that’s also part of what makes taehyung... well, taehyung. it’s just only recently that you start seeing more than glimpses of these sides behind closed doors.

the way his eyes widen is enough for you to know that you’ve hit the nail right on its head. if the incomprehensible stuttering isn’t, “that... i was... we didn’t-”

“i know,” you fix him a jesting smile, “you may be a certified charmer for the most part but you’re not a homewrecker, tae.”

lunch goes on with you talking about how your father and brother are thrilled to have you and taehyung over for your monthly dinner. to which the man was partly confused and partly shivered in his seat at the thought of sitting down at a table with two of your favorite men in the world no doubt shooting him daggers while you’re not watching - or pretend that you don’t notice.

“i can’t avoid father forever,” he laments, finally giving into his fate as you walk out the restaurant, “and i have a lot of owning up to do to your family.”

“as do i,” you hum in agreement once before murmuring a ‘thank you’ as he holds the car door open after tipping the valet.

it’s only five minutes into the ride, once the car rolls to a stop at a red light does he turn to you, “you know, you don’t have to... with mom, reconciliation is a two way thing and she...” you notice the way his grip tightens around the wheel, eyes darkening as he breathes in, grounding himself “- she even made you file for divorce.”

the papers she’d given you that day still lied in your drawer, hidden away from taehyung’s pyromaniac hands. you’d caught him almost setting them on fire when you he found it lying on the counter after he’d returned home. all because spent a good chunk of the afternoon staring at it before leaving it to take a hot bath, not realizing taehyung would be home any time soon. ever since then, he hadn’t been on speaking terms with mrs. kim. turned down offers for dinners and luncheons, as he had directly told her in front of you through a phone call, “...not until you apologize to ___ first.”

“tae, mother was hurt by our lies and i understand why, i can’t promise i’ll be as accepting if i found out the daughter-in-law i cherished so much didn’t marry my son for love like i thought they did,” you lightly pat his hand that’s on the gear but instead he captures your fingers between his and guide them to his lips as he traps you within those beautiful eyes.

“you’re too kind for your own good, you know that?” there they are again, hazel underneath the light. but clouded with a sort of emotion you can’t pinpoint.

but before you can even muster a word, his eyes are already focused on the road as the car propels itself forward. but he doesn’t let go of your hand. he keeps it twined with his between yours and the gear. almost as if he didn’t want to be apart from you if he could help it. and neither could did you as you rub tiny motions into the back of his hand.

in your defense, you’ve stolen a precious gem from her that no money or gold could ever replace. and no matter how much you cherish the bond that formed after hours spent on shopping, tea times and mother-daughter (in-law) vacations, you’re not kind enough to unwrap him from your little fingers.

a smile curls on your lips as you guide taehyung’s hand to yours, placing a kiss on his knuckles and watching as his own lips tuck at the corners.

you’ll just have to make it up to mother some other way.

x

note. if you enjoy this then please leave a comment either below or in my inbox! and check out the other members’ installments to the series filed under ‘verse’ on top!

[bakugohoex]

can you please write a fic where youre aizawas' wife and you're pregnant with twins, and while he's in the middle of teaching at UA you go into labor and you call him, and he leaves in the middle of their class, (the class dosen't know he's married and obviously dosen't know he's about to become a father) and the class thinks that something's seriously wrong because they saw panic on his face for a slight second when he got the call, so they end up following him to the hospital only to see him sniling and holding two newborn babies that look just like him and the woman who is on the hospital bed (you) and theyre in shock when they find out that you're his wife and those are his kids, but what shocks them most is the big smile on his face when he was holding his babies 🥺 idk i thought it would be cute

“did he steal two babies?”

pairing: shouta aizawa x female reader

cw: language, fluff

word count: 3000+

a/n: i live for domestic one shots, i might write some more depending on how i’m feeling, hope you guys like this have a happy new years eve people, the stupid tags arent working so if you could reblog it it would mean a lot 

summary: in which you’re aizawa’s secret wife, aizawa gets a call in the middle of class that you’re going into labor and eventually leaves, the class being noisy pricks follows him to a hospital, feeling worried they continue to follow until they see him holding two babies with a smile at his new family

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

Eight months, eight full fucking months of carrying Aizawa’s little spawns. Having spent your last term of pregnancy on bed rest, it had been the worst term ever, you would rather have taken the puking up last nights dinner then staying in bed. Even Aizawa had gotten annoyed with how frustrated you had got, you craved how he could get up and leave for work. You hadn’t gone into work since your maternity leave started and you were annoyed, being a pro hero it had been worse.

As soon as you told the agency you were pregnant, you were desk bound, unable to go on patrols. It was fucking annoying and you hated every second of it, and all Aizawa could do was smirk at your frustration. “I’m due any day now, just leave work and stay with me.” You plead grabbing the material from his neck, you wanted him to hold you. You already felt gross staying in bed 24/7 but now you didn’t have your husband beside you 24/7.

“Kitten, this is my last day, I’ll spend the rest of the pregnancy with you.” You were grouchy letting go of him and turning your head to face away for him. “Y/n.”

He tried to gain your attention but ignored him, “you should’ve gotten pregnant as well you’d understand.”

He raised an eyebrow, shaking his head as he crept his arms around your body, his hand resting on the baby bump. You shuffled closer to his body, before turning your head to see him softly rubbing back and forth across the bump.

“Be patient, my love.” It was a whisper which brought you comfort.

“If you’re not home by 4pm then I’m locking you out of the house.” You threaten.

He looks down at you with your fiery eyes, “sure you are.” He kisses the top of your head; you pout wanting a proper kiss. He looks at how perfect you looked with his babies, when you both found out you were having twins, the small apartment you had called home since dating. Had gone and a house in the country close enough to UA and still for you to do pro hero work was where the both of you had situated.

Your relationship have been very secretive, a small wedding ceremony which had been perfect with your family and friends. Of course people had noticed you had gone MIA but one day you’d come out and tell the world how you and Aizawa were an inseparable family.

He moved to capture your lips, grabbing his face you wanted to just drag him back to bed. But he quickly moved out of your grip, “patience Y/n.”

“Shouta.” You whine like a child would.

“Seems like ill be raising three babies now.” He mocked putting the scarf around his yellow goggles.

“I hope you break your goggles.” You huff again, he doesn’t speak only kissing your temple after the small peck he had given to your lips.

He starts to walk out the bedroom, your wedding photo situated on the cabinet. You were perfect back then and now with his kids inside of you, you became somehow even more perfect. He had never thought that the woman he had met all those years ago, who had showed of her quirk to the whole world would be the one he fell in love with.

He looked back at you, you were grumpy due to hormones but once the babies were out you knew you’d go back to being yourself (and both of you could fuck properly, but that was just a bonus.)

“Make sure to walk around the house.” He warns.

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow, “and what if I don’t, will you come home early?” Your extra clinginess melted his insides, he knew how bored your loud self was and being cooped up inside had took a toll on you.

“I’ll come home early.” The sound of your squeal lifted his spirits, it was adorable, and he loved how easily your mood changed. Your face was full, and you had something to look forward too as he left the room.

The day for Aizawa had been smooth sailing, having asked to leave at 2pm and being able to, he had been with the students whilst they were training. He could imagine teaching his kids everything to do with this world, he couldn’t wait for his own leave, to spend time with his future babies but also with his loving wife.

The sound of Bakugo shouting was something else he had gotten used to; how could a 16-year-old boy be louder than the babies he had heard on those stupid pregnancy videos you made him watch. You had shown him a woman giving birth and to say it was the weirdest thing he’s ever seen; he’d happily watch stuff go inside of you but the other way round was another issue.

He stood watching over them, they had gotten a lot stronger in the months and the events that had occurred. It was another reason for the secrecy, having to hide your relationship to prevent disaster from happening. He watched the time tick away; another two more hours and he could leave and spend the rest of the trimester with you.

The sound of running caught his ears, he looked up and saw Principle Nezu walking towards him. “Agh Aizawa, we got a call from your wife’s mother.”

He hadn’t checked his phone, but if your mother had been calling it must’ve been something serious, the class had noticed the principle and had gotten quiet even Bakugo who wanted to know why the principle was here.

“Finally, you answered, she’s going into labour.” He heard on the other liner, he was in shock, his phone dropping to the side.

“Sh…She what?” It was early, of course you both knew about early pregnancies but this he had just spoken you a couple hours ago and now here you were about to go into labour.

“In labour, her water broke whilst I came to see her.” He could hear you screaming on the other side, how you must’ve been in pain, he knew you had been dilated a couple days ago but this, this was sooner than he had expected.

Nezu got the hint that something had happened and so had the class, a flash of worry across Aizawa’s face. “We’ll send the students back to the dorms.” He was calm and Aizawa quickly rushed out of the gym, leaving nothing else to say. He needed to make it to the hospital as quick as he could, in an instant he called your mother.

“Is she okay?” He had ran outside going to his car to quickly rush to the hospital.

He heard screaming which he assumed was you, “she’s grouchy…”

Before he could hear the rest of what your mother said, he heard you shout, “if that’s my idiot of a husband tell him to get to the fucking hospital.” It was a wail and he regretted not taking the day off.

“Y/n.” Her mother scowled, “we’re at the hospital, I’ll text you the room.” Is all her mother said before hanging up. Aizawa was stressed to say the least but what he hadn’t seen through the chaos was class 1A following him.

The class had seen the worry and panic before he jolted out of the room, “you all are dismissed for the day.” Nezu spoke before leaving.

“What do you think happened?” Momo questioned worried.

“He seemed in a hurry; it was probably something important.” Kirishima retorted back.

The class watched him on the phone the question of ‘is she okay?’ being heard. “Who do you think he’s talking about?” Mina asked.

“Why do you lot care so much?” Bakugo angrily said pissed that training had been cut early.

“He’s our teacher, what if something bad happened Kacchan.” Midoriya answered but it just fuelled Bakugo’s anger.

“We should follow him.” Denki suggested. “It might be serious and if people need help, we can help.”

They nodded, all assuming it had something to do with hero work, seeing Aizawa in his car, they started to follow him on foot, “we should’ve taken one of the buses.” Bakugo scowled following.

“We cant drive.” Kirishima muttered back.

Bakugo huffed following them all on the long walk, it was easy enough to keep following due to the mass traffic occurring. Aizawa having got the room number, he didn’t care for his surroundings, his eyes fixated on the road.

He finally saw the sign for the hospital and breathed out hoping you hadn’t gotten into labour yet. “Why is he at a hospital?” Ururaka questioned, “do you think someone got hurt?”

“Maybe we should go back.” Momo said not wanting to intrude on something that could have no villainous intent.

“Shut up extra’s, we’re already here.” Bakugo muttered walking to the entrance, they all followed the angry boy who glared at the children coming out of that ward.

“When did you care about the injured?” Kirishima questioned the blond.

“I don’t, you dragged me with you so now we’re staying.” For one thing the boy was persistent.

Across the hospital, Aizawa had ran to the room and saw your eyes filled with fury, your mother holding your hand as he could see how much pain you were in. “Look what the cat dragged in.” You scowled in pain.

“You can take over now.” Is all her mother said, going outside and waiting. He took her place and in an instance your hands had grabbed his.

“You must be the husband, I’ll be helping your wife, can you wear these?” The doctor spoke passing the blue overall type to keep his clothes covered, Aizawa obliged still holding your hand. “Mrs Aizawa you’re about 9cm dilated once you get to 10cm I’m going to tell you to push, okay?”

You were breathless and felt dreary, it would’ve been fine if it wasn’t for the fact you were having twins. You knew you’d go through even more pain then normal and in that moment felt scared.

“Hey kitten, look at me, you’ll do amazing.” Aizawa tried to be encouraging but even he was scared for all three of you.

“It hurts.” You tried to hide the tears, but it mixed in with the sweat.

“I know kitten, but you can grab onto me as hard as you want.” He smiles moving the strands of hair away from your sweaty forehead.

“10cm’s.” One of the nurses spoke out, the doctor nodded before looking at the angry you and calm husband.

“Mrs Aizawa you need to start pushing.” The pain was excruciating, you tried to push your grip on Aizawa’s hands becoming tighter. It was the worst pain you’d gone through and you’d been stabbed before.

Aizawa gave words of encouragement but all you wanted to do was tell him to shut up, tears cascaded down your face whilst pushing. “I see a head.” The doctor spoke, “keep pushing.”

You pushed a long with what the nurses had told you, in time to make sure you weren’t just randomly pushing. Aizawa was the first to see it, first to see the baby come out, it was quiet before wailing out loud, it was his turn to cry. The baby being placed on your chest before the doctor continued, “one more push, let’s get the other one out.”

You felt the first baby on your ski grabbing your neck as you kept on pushing, “I don’t want too.” You cried out but seeing Aizawa and how he looked at the baby on your chest you knew you needed too.

“Come on kitten, one more push.” He spoke a loud, you suppresses the tears before feeling another hard push come and the head of another baby erupt out of you. The doctor but the second baby on your chest, both their crying having stopped.

They stayed on you, you let go of Aizawas hand as the doctor told him he could cut the umbilical cord, he happily obliged before looking at the two babies that you both had created. They were smaller then normal and there eyes were tightly shut clinging onto their new mother.

“We need to weigh and clean them.” The doctor spoke as two nurses took the babies ready to put tags on them, the oldest had been a boy and the youngest a girl. You missed there touch and hold wanting to hold them again but watching them being taken out.

“We did it.” You spoke sleepily as you felt yourself being cleaned up and ready to be moved into another room.

“Yeah, we did.” Aizawa spoke going in to kiss your temple, “we’re parents.”

Tears brimmed his eyes; this normal dry flat facial features had become happier and all he could think about was how you looked with his two children. How he had gotten a family that he had never expected to have had.

Being moved to a different room, Aizawa followed sitting on the chair beside you. You saw the two babies come back to you both, in an instance they were placed back into your arms. “You can hold them?”

You had seen Aizawa’s hesitance to even touch the babies, but he knew how to do it and with ease they both were situated in his arms. You could hear your mother outside, she seemed to be talking to some people, but you ignored it watching at how Aizawa’s eyes welled up at the two babies.

“Where are my grandchildren?” Your mother spoke a loud before having heart eyes at how Aizawa was holding your babies.

“Mum, please be quieter.”

“Hey, I had to handle your screams, let me be happy, they look adorable with their father.” She spoke moving to the bed.

“They really do.” You both watched him look at the two children, a tear falling from his face.

Your mother turned back to you and she smiled at you, “I’m proud of you.” You give a nod holding her hand before she speaks, “have you two got any na…”

Before she could continue you hear the door open with the doctor coming in, “it seems you two have more visitors.”

You were both confused on the matter, nobody really knew you had gone into pregnancy except your parents and his and your father was still at work whilst his parents were out of town. It was unexpected but your eyes widen when you see the group of 16-year olds.

“They were wondering around the hospital.” The doctor speaks, Aizawa hadn’t noticed his students, but you and your mother had.

The kids were in shock at seeing a pro hero in a hospital bed but there eyes went to Aizawa’s he had been looking at his babies, unaware of his surroundings.

Nobody spoke instead just watching Aizawa interact with the two new-born babies, a smile placed on his normal flat self. “Did he steal two babies?” You hear one of them whisper, you instantly begin to speak after that.

“Shouta.” You whisper.

“Yeah.” He was so out of dazed but once he turns to face them all, he’s in shock as well.

“I’ll leave you to handle this.” Your mother leaves not wanting to have to explain this scenario.

Aizawa was still in shock, you reach out for one of the babies, he passes you the youngest, who starts to grab at your fingers. He sits holding the boy, before the class start cascading you both in questions.

“Are they yours?”, “How do you know Pro Hero Y/n?”, “Who is she to you?”

Aizawa looks at them and then at his family, you nod a sign that he could tell them everything, “This is my wife, and these are our new kids.”

It was a simple but effective, the class in shock that there homeroom teacher who seemed to be detached had you the loving pro hero as a wife, but even more now had two kids.

“Congratulations.” They all spoke a loud. It was rehearsed and you could tell that it all came out due to shock.

“What are you doing here anyway, I thought we said go back to the dorms.” Aizawa scowled.

“Baby, it’s fine, it’s good they found out anyway, since you wont be teaching them for a bit.” You calmed the man down.

He shakes his head at how easily you calmed him down, “you’re an amazing pro hero.” Midoriya spoke a loud, you thanked him before they didn’t know what else to say.

“I’ll go call Nezu, he can get you back to UA.” Aizawa muttered handing you the other child as he left the room.

“You married Aizawa.” Mina spoke a loud everybody looked at her, “what? We were all thinking it?”

You laugh looking at them all, “yes I did.”

“And you slept with him.” Mina continued with ever more eyes growing wider.

You continued to laugh, “that is how I got pregnant.”

“What are their names?” Ururaka asked coming towards the two kids.

You sat upright, letting them have a closer look, they all came forward even Bakugo who saw children as devils spawn. They were fresh out and anew, so pure and innocent as they tugged onto your hair.

“We haven’t decided yet.” You said looking at the two kids, you notice Aizawa at the door looking at the class as they surrounded you and the babies. The way they were quieter than they had ever been around two new-borns, they spent time asking questions and looking at the two babies. Before being dragged back to UA, all smiling happily at having spent the afternoon with two new-borns.

“They look like you.” You mutter sleepily, the two babies being put to sleep on the other sides of the room. “We made them.”

“I love you.” He whispers kissing you softly, you kiss back, happily at the new family you had and Aizawa finally realised what his happiness was. You and your two babies were all he ever needed now.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world