#yet a week and a half later i still can barely walk without support

[sonicsbfwannbe]

#1 DAD MUG

A/N: enjoy this little north/sonic/kim (They're all together bc i can) gifting Alan a #1 dad mug on fathers day thing I threw together.

-------------------------------------------------------

*Kim pov*

"We should go in here I've been wanting a new jacket,"  Sonic says gesturing to a little vintage shop.

"You're got it," North pipes up bolting to the door so he can hold it open for us.

We've been together for a few months now and decided it would be nice to have a nice shopping date where we walk around a bunch of small shops and just exist with each other. I started liking them when I was staying with Alan, they were just such a different energy than I was used to. They're always so lively and happy all the time and it's hard to not have it infected you too.

When we told everyone about our relationship they were all so supportive, though a little shocked that North and Sonic hadn't been together for a while and hadn't told anyone yet. I had been too honestly but what matters is we are all together now.

We walked around the shop together for a while before North got distracted by the wall of trinkets on the side of the store and wondered off. I stayed with Sonic helping him pick out some jackets. At one point he slips his hand out of mine to grab some bright green and black jacket so I slip my hand in his back pocket.

He gets the jacket half off the hanger when we hear North start giggling so loud it was like he's right next to us. We look over at him and he just waves us over.

"GUYS HOW FUNNY WOULD IT BE IF WE GAVE THIS TO ALAN!!" He shouts bouncing up and down like a kid who just ate a shit load of candy.

"TOMORROWS FATHERS DAY!" Sonic chimes in instantly matching his energy.

"We could get him a card too," I add while I set my elbow on Norths shoulder.

"YES!!" they both shout.

After that's settled we walk around the shop and pick out a few more things before I pay for it all and we head home.

-------------------------------------------------‐---------‐-------------------

*the next morning*

*Alan's pov*

"Wake uuuuppp," I barely hear some voice call for me as I'm shaken awake. After recognizing Norths voice I ignore him and tuck my head into Jeff's neck.

Unfortunately he doesn't get the signal and continues pestering us or should I say me, he's leaving Jeff alone. I look at the alarm clock and see it's 9:30 which is later than we are usually up but we didn't have to be at the garage until the afternoon so we wanted to sleep in.

However it doesn't seem like I get to be granted that wish today. I prop myself up and see North, Sonic, and Kim sat up and snuggled at the end of the bed.

"What is so important that you couldn't wait until work?" I ask them. By now Jeff has also stated to wake up but still leans on my shoulder from drowsiness.

"So rude we come here to bring you A PRESENT and this is how you treat us," North places his hand on his chest to mock offense.

"You could have at least knocked."

"To be fair I knocked one time and you acted like I had three heads," Kim inputs.

"You know when you three got together I thought you would reign those two in a bit and calm them down. I miss those days."

"Get over it and open your present," Sonic says shoving a bag at me.

First thing I pull out is a "#1 dad mug" under it I see a cheesy card with an ice cube on it that says "ur a cool dad" with all their names signed in it. I hate to admit it but it was so cute I got over the fact that they woke me up just to mess with me.

"IM NOT YOUR DAD!!" I say throwing the now empty bag at them.

"You kind of are," Jeff says now that he's fully awake.

"You do realize that makes you their step dad."

"I can live with that."

"Anyway we have brunch reservations so we need to go," Kim says and they all tackle us in a hug and run out the bedroom door.

The last thing I hear is them shout "love you dad" before the front door closes.

"You act all annoyed but you know if you ever had to go week without their chaos you wouldn't know what to do with yourself. You absolutely adore them and their mischief as much as they love you and pestering you. Anyway I'm going to shower," Jeff says before kissing me on the cheek and heading to shower.

He's right but honestly I don't mind I love this family I have around me and wouldn't change a thing about it. I wipe away the tears that started building in my eyes before propping the card up on my bedside table and going down to make breakfast.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*some morning a couple weeks later*

"Wow Alan you're really leaning into the whole dad friend thing aren't you?" Babe teases gesturing the the mug North, Sonic, and Kim gave me as I fill it with coffee. Everyone's over for our monthly movie night a tradition started as a way to relax after everything with Tony.

"AWWW you use the mug we got you, you do love it," North taunts from the couch.

"He uses it every day," Jeff adds from beside me.

A chorus of "awww"s sounds from the living room and I shoot Jeff a playful glare.

"And he keeps the card on his bedside table."

I swear they all drive me crazy I think and smile to myself.

[jaegonsmoon]

Yes! I love how their bond would go to Sunfyre and Vermax too itd be so cute!! Omg I love the could have been ideas cause like imagine down the line if Jace becomes King and since him and Aegon would have grown so close he'd either make Aegon his hand or maybe they could even get married! I love that idea so much!

wait, WAIIIIITTTTTTT, Hand of the King Aegon?!!!!!!!!! You— your mind!!!!! let’s go.

We Are the Gods Now

Imagine, Rhaenyra (loml) passing away relatively young, when Jace is in his late twenties (or barely thirty), and even though the queen made sure to prepare him for this, the weight of it all sends him spiralling. That week has got to be the most overwhelming of his, and the entire family’s (since they’ve grown close ever since Rhaenyra’s coronation) lives.

Upon learning about his mother’s (because she never stopped being their mother first and queen second) passing, Jace goes to Aegon, his childhood companion (because of course they’re Alicent and Rhaenyra’s doubles).

He storms into Aegon’s rooms, looking visibly ill and pale and it downs on Aegon quickly. He doesn’t know what to do, so he just silently opens his arms and Jace walks to him. Aegon holds him through the first wave of his grief, where he’s uncontrollably crying. Then Aegon gets up, some time later when Jace has calmed down a bit, and serves them two cups of wine. Aegon half expected Jace’s reaction to his mother’s death to be more explosive and violent. Jace could be hot-headed when provoked, and even though he knew control, sometimes he couldn’t hold it in. But this, this proves how broken Jacaerys is about the situation, it makes Aegon’s heart ache.

Jace downs his wine in a few gulps and hands it back to Aegon, who silently keeps refilling it until there’s no more wine in the jar. He knows Jace’s never been one to get lost into his cups, but right now it’s all he can offer to calm him and soothe him—that and his arms, as Jacaerys, eyes red and throat raw from all his crying and screaming, crawls back into Aegon’s embrace.

They were close when they were little, but after Viserys’ death they grew even closer. Aegon was one of the very few people that ever witnessed Jacaerys’ vulnerable side, Rhaenyra being the main one. But now she was gone and there was a hole in his chest and the heaviness of a crown that hadn’t touched his head yet.

“I can’t do this alone,” Jace mumbles against his chest, where his face rests.

“You’re not alone. You have your brothers, you have my family’s support,” He runs his fingers carefully through his nephew’s tangled curls , pushing them out his face. “You have me.”

“I need you, Aegon. I need you by my side. I can’t— I can’t do it without you.” Jace’s voice cracks, and Aegon feels new, hot tears dampen his doublet.

“You have me. Jace…” He cups his nephew’s face in his hands, gently forcing him to look at him. “You have me.“

A broken sound leaves Jacaerys’ mouth when he feels Aegon’s lips on his forehead. Aegon peppers kisses along his temples, his wet eyes, his tear stained cheeks, his beautiful jawline, and finally his plump, red lips.

He rests his forehead against the other’s. “You have me and I have you. Always.”

Jacaerys’ coronation comes the day after Rhaenyra’s funeral, and it’s not without challenges. The rumours of him being a bastard never truly went away. Many lords that still, after all this time weren’t happy to have Rhaenyra sitting on the Iron Throne, started protests along the kingdoms, they don’t want a bastard to rule over them. Some still root for Aegon to take over the throne, as they still believed him the true heir of the house of the dragon.

Decisions are made, and they are not done lightly, there were things Jacaerys discussed with his queen for some time, long before sickness took over, and even after. His coronation takes place in the dragon pit, and when he arrives is on Vermax’s back. The dragon lands gracefully in a corner of the stage where he is to be crowned—opposite to where his remaining family stand loyally, awaiting for him. He climbs down from his dragon, petting him and praising him, before the dragon obediently backs away, but doesn’t take off—he remains patient and well behaved, but by no means less threatening, in a corner as the coronation of his rider takes place. It is a statement in his own right, really. To not be fooled by the heir’s unruly brown hair and and honey eyes, he is no less of a dragon despite what the impression of his features might tell some.

He is the son of the rightful queen, who birthed him and raised him to be the king he would begin to be today.

When the event began, it was Aegon Targaryen, second of his name, who placed the crown of late Queen Rhaenyra, previously Viserys’ and originally Jaehaerys’, on Jacaerys’ head. It was Aegon the first to bend the knee to his king, gasps and whispers could be heard among some in multitude. It was his uncle the first to pledge fealty and loyalty to him, looking up at him with a twinkle in his eyes that not only showed Jacaerys his devotion, but something more; something open. Deep and raw. Everyone else followed right after Aegon.

“All hail to king Jacaerys Targaryen, first of his name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.” Aegon announced and the kingdom roared in cheers, for they had a new king.

It was Jacaerys who then honoured Aegon back, by naming him Hand of the King—to the shock of some and the none of others, and kept him close by his side for the rest of the festivities.

And times.

[A CLEANER AND LONGER VERSION OF THIS IS NOW ON AO3!]

[outerbankies]

okay SO i know you said be more specific about steamy content. i feel like a steamy back of truck make out with new light rafe seems v on brand

anon understood the assignment! here u go bestie

—

new light blurb: the wonder of you — rafe cameron

new light masterlist

this is just new light!rafe and y/n making out tbh! let’s say this takes place like part 3ish?

“Work was fine.”

Kiss.

“My dad and Ezra let us off early to go golfing. Got to work on my project until you were free.”

Kiss.

You push Rafe’s head back just a little, your hands holding both sides of his face so he’s looking right at you, no longer hiding his face in your neck to press more kisses into your skin. His hair’s a bit messy where you’ve been running your hands through it, lips spit slicked and a little red, perfectly matches the rouge dusting his cheeks. You can’t help but admire your handiwork.

Half of you just needed him to pull off of you before your pulse point gave away how much his touch was affecting you, but the other half of you is intrigued by what he said.

“When are you gonna tell me what your project is?”

“When it’s done, sweetheart,” he grins, shifting up your body to kiss you on the mouth. “How many times do I have to tell you that?”

You tug him down to get lost in him for a little longer, feeling one of his thighs press into your own to push your leg up just a bit higher, giving him more room to settle in. You pull back when another thought comes to mind; you half expect him to be annoyed, just want you to stop talking so you can keep kissing. But Rafe is pulling off immediately, hand reaching up to tuck some stray hair behind you ear.

“And did you say you were waiting until I was free?” you ask. You expect a blush on his cheeks but he just laughs, pecking your lips again before quirking an eyebrow.

“What else would I do?”

“You have so many things you could do here, Rafe.”

“But none of them are you,” he says, like it’s obvious. “Why would I waste my time?”

“Rafe,” you whine, feeling the skin of your cheeks burning. Your bodies are pressed right together where Rafe lays over you, supporting himself with his elbow on the side of your head. It’s warm tonight, so he’s got on athletic shorts and an old t-shirt, hair originally tucked under a college hat. You were dressed casual too, in leggings and a t-shirt, at this point wishing you’d worn shorts just so you can feel more of his skin against yours—just so you could feel more of Rafe.

The two of you had laid together on your backs for just a little while, innocent enough but still with your sides pressed all the way together. But then there was a lapse in conversation, your intertwined hands stilling where you’d been tugging on with his rings—Rafe had flipped his hat backwards before he leaned into kiss you.

But as soon as he rolled over you and situated himself between your thighs, it’d been knocked off to the side, your hands tugging on his hair.

“Did you go golfing with them after work?”

“Nah.”

“Hm, we should go.”

“You hate golf. How, I’ll never understand. I can’t believe you grew up on Figure 8 and still can’t play a decent game of golf.”

“S’boring,” you shrug, fiddling with his shirt collar. Rafe narrows his eyes. “I like the pilates classes better. Yoga’s fun too.”

“You went with us all the time in school,” he says, stopping suddenly to look back up at you, hips fully pressed into yours at this point. “Just wanted to sit and watch me, huh? In your little skirt, asking me to pay for your mimosas—”

“Raaaafe,” you groan. “Stop.”

“No, you’re so cute. Fuck.”

You just roll your eyes, letting him slip a hand under your shirt, his thumb slipping under the high waist band of your leggings as he splays it across your stomach. “Get down here.”

Rafe leans down and lets you kiss along his jaw, only shying away a little bit when you get to the ticklish spot near his ear, smiling when you laugh. He’s got a hand in your hair, cradling your head in his hand so you don’t have to lay it on the ground, your ponytail long ago tugged off by Rafe (he slid it on his wrist for you to take back later).

“What?” he asks, when you pull off and smile up at him. His thumb strokes along your jaw, eyes searching your face. “What are you thinking about, baby?”

You roll your head to the side to kiss his palm. “That I can’t believe we’re both 21 years old, making out in your truck like teenagers.”

The way Rafe’s smiling down at you makes you just have to surge up and kiss him again, thumb swiping over his bottom lip when you pull back.

“You would’ve never, ever let me bring you up here when we were teenagers. But don’t tell me you never thought about it,” he says confidently.

And this fucking boy—of course you had thought about it.

When Rafe had texted you this afternoon to ask if you wanted to take his truck up to one of the lookouts that night, you blushed like the teenager you used to be, the one that was always wishing Rafe would notice you. Of course, a few weeks into this summer romance you’re starting to see all it would’ve taken was you being a little less blind.

But here you are all the same, if a few years late, letting him drive you up the mountain, spread a few blankets out in his freshly cleaned truck bed and casually take you apart with his lips on your skin while you two just chat about your days. And you can’t even wrap your mind around it now, but you know you would’ve let him mack on you in high school, too—not that he needed to know that, at least not yet.

When you don’t say anything to his accusation, biting back giggles until he realizes you’re fucking with him, his head snaps up. He catches your smile, rolling his eyes. “You think you’re so funny. Jesus, Y/n/n.”

“M’sorry,” you giggle, sucking in your breath when he tugs your t shirt collar down. “You’re just so cute when you’re oblivious. Of course I thought about it.”

“Oh, I’m oblivious?” he laughs incredulously, eyes flickering over your face. “C’mere.”

It’s a useless command, because he’s the one hovering over you, in control while you lay under him. But you still feel a shiver at the way he just can’t seem to contain himself, can barely pull off of you to say something before it drops off to a murmur that his lips are pressing into your skin.

“Wait, not on my neck this time,” you pant, hand tugging at the hair on his scalp. “Please? I’m almost out of concealer and it’s gonna take forever to ship out here.”

“Did you not buy any before you moved home?”

“When I came home, I didn’t exactly plan to spend the entire summer letting you bite me,” you laugh.

He narrows his eyes. “But you like it.”

“A little.”

“Well. Since you said please,” he says lowly, moving to suck a hickey into the front of your shoulder instead, blunt nails digging into your skin a little while he stretches the collar of your shirt. “Here good?”

“Mm. Mhm,” you hum, feeling his teeth brush your skin, before he’s pulling back and pressing kisses from the mark back up to your mouth.

His thumb immediately presses into your shoulder, smirking when you let out another whine.

“A little, huh? That’s what I thought,” he laughs, his breath fanning across your neck. He leans back abruptly, rising to his knees and holding his hand out to pull you up. “What are we gonna do with you?”

You follow his lead, leaning up to give him one more kiss that’ll leave him in a daze, moving around him to hop out of the bed. Rafe balks at you doing it without his help. You just shoot him a look over the side of the bed as you walk to the passenger seat. “You could take me home.”

He scrambles to open your door for you.

[unhealthyfanobsession]

Can I ask for drunk Nesta flirting with Cassian in front of the ic and him getting all flustered but being secretly pleased about it???

Hell yeah you can! I love this idea! It wasn’t specified so I’m going modern here just because I’m not really sure where this could’ve happened in the canon timeline without a bunch of other factors impeding. Also I’m throwing in a dash of my fav jealous Cassian 😏

It wasn’t that Cassian didn’t want to be there. Well, no, actually that was exactly what it was. Cassian didn’t want to be there. He was exhausted and he hadn’t gotten to the gym that morning and he had a massive deadline that Rhys kept insisting they could push back but Cassian didn’t want to. He just wanted to go home and finish his report and maybe have a glass of whiskey to close off a truly awful week.

But Feyre’s art exhibit opened earlier that week and he hadn’t even gotten to see it yet and so it wasn’t like he could blow off her big party when he already felt like the world’s worst friend.

And he was completely lying to himself and everyone else. He didn’t want to be there because he didn’t want to watch Eris Vanserra’s slimy ass mill about the elegantly decorated, high ceilinged, natural light dripping, beautiful space, with his eyes glued to Nesta’s ass as if it was the art they were meant to be appreciating.

Did Cassian also appreciate every inch of her body like it had been sculpted by Michelangelo? Yeah but that was besides the point. And he had the respect to do it subtly.

“Remind me why he’s invited,” Cassian grumbled into his overpriced merlot. Because apparently only wine was classy enough for these fancy, classy, art events.

“He’s Lucien’s brother.” Azriel also didn’t look impressed by Eris’ uninvited hand on the small of Nesta’s back. Or the way he kept refilling her glass before she asked or was even done. “And he’s richer than Midas and spends a lot of that money on art.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “We have as much money as he does.”

“Yes but you know Feyre’s rule. No family purchases. She doesn’t want to be a success just because Rhys could buy and sell this entire gallery.” Azriel was stoic as usual. Betraying no opinion on the matter.

It was several hours of carefully constructed comments where Cassian pretended he knew anything about art and pretended his neck wasn’t getting increasingly hot under his collar as Eris kept glued to Nesta’s side.

Cassian had no right to be jealous. He knew that. He and Nesta weren’t anything. Casual flirting. Witty banter. Eternal, pining, unrequited love on his end that she didn’t even seem to notice or care about. So fine. Maybe Eris was her type. It wasn’t his place to interfere.

Except that she really needed a glass of water right now and-

Cassian’s hand darted out on instinct as Nesta walked past him, wobbling a little on her completely impractical shoes.

“Careful sweetheart.”

He braced for the hissed don’t call me that, but When he looked up Nesta was blinking slowly through a hazy wall of the wrong wine.

The wrong wine because Eris had been giving her a Nappa Cab Sauv all night when she preferred old world Syrah. Which was probably why she kept drinking it so quickly, looking for her opportunity to get what she really wanted.

“Cass,” she smiled. It was a little lopsided and definitely off kilter, but even through her wine brain he could see that she was playing at something. Nesta had never called him Cass in his life. “It’s so good to see you!” Her voice went up a full octave and she pressed her entire body against his as she hugged him.

The display turned a few heads in their direction. It was mostly just family at this point, and Eris who couldn’t learn how to take a fucking hint. Technically, he supposed, Eris was family. Nesta’s fucking brother in law. Was that how it worked? Was the brother of the person your sister married also your brother in law? Brother in law once removed?

Not important, moron. Drunk Nesta. Body. Wrapped in a tight sheath dress and clinging to him. Cassian closed his hands around her back and got lost for a minute.

Holding her against him like she was made to fit in his arms. Breathing in her scent like he could capture it in a bottle and spray it on his pillow every night before he went to bed.

Someone cleared their throat. Feminine. High pitched. Mor.

Nesta had already let go and was smirking at him a little. He dropped his hands immediately. “Um, yeah, always a pleasure.”

“Interesting choice of words,” Nesta’s grin was feline. She was definitely up to something. And normally he would make a stupid remark, probably something about how much more pleasurable the evening would be back at his apartment, except that she was drunk and his entire family was staring and Eris was still standing there.

“Can I get you a glass of water?” It seemed like the right thing to say. To offer. Feyre smiled a little, a silent thank you. Azriel was covering a laugh, Mor was watching them both with narrowed eyes like a hawk, and Rhys honestly couldn’t have cared less. Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “Or maybe throw you into a pool,” Cassian joked stupidly.

“You should probably buy me dinner before offering to get me wet.” Someone dropped a glass. Cassian honestly thought it might have been him and he wouldn’t have noticed. Not in that moment. Not with Nesta looking at him through hooded eyes and talking about…

He could do this. His pants were not getting tight. Not at all. Because he wasn’t a damn teenager.

“I- um- do you-”

Nesta burst out laughing. It was a sound he’d never heard from her. She was usually all sultry under her breath snorts or ironic guffaws. Full, deep, angels singing, laughter was not usual for Nesta.

As evidenced by the fact the no one was even pretending not to be watching them anymore.

“I’ve got her.” Eris pushed himself back to Nesta’s side.

“Does he?” Nesta looked straight at Cassian, one eyebrow raised. “Because I’m willing to bet he wouldn’t have made it past glass two if your family wasn’t here.”

Azriel coughed. Amren cackled.

“You… do you want him to have you?” It came out wrong. The words. He meant did she want Eris to take her to get some water. Like he offered. He didn’t mean, he couldn’t, he wouldn’t…

“I want you to have me.” She was drunk. She was so drunk and it shouldn’t have been hot but fuck him it was. It wasn’t some sloppy college night out messed up drunk. It was a woman whose inhibitions had been soaked in wine just enough that every word out of her mouth was low and hot and honest.

“Find somewhere else to be, Vanserra.”

“Hey man what the fuck? We were talking-“

Cassian scoffed, snapping out of whatever flustered mess Nesta had put him in. “Anyone who gave her that much Cab Sauv doesn’t deserve to talk to her. Get lost.”

“I saw you eyeing the bottle,” Nesta laughed a little, swaying on her toes. Cassian moved his hands from a support on her bicep to a full arm around the waist support. Even if she did try to fall he could lift her with one arm easy. “Thought you might say something after…”

After the night they spent in her apartment with a bottle of her favourite Syrah only a week ago. It hadn’t been on purpose. Feyre and Elain and Azriel and Lucien were all supposed to be there. And they all conveniently cancelled only after he’d already showed up.

Which, judging by the barely contained grins on their faces, was even less of a coincidence than he thought. Busybodies.

“I’d offer you a glass of Syrah now, but I think what you need is a coffee.”

“Oh but then I’ll never sleep. And I do think I’m ready for bed.”

Sensing that he’d lost, Eris swore under his breath and stomped off.

“Let me take you home, Nes.” Cassian whispered into her hair.

“Hmm, your place or mine.”

“Yours,” he kissed her temple, pulling her legs out from under her and not even paying his family a backwards glance. “For a nightcap of 2 big glasses of water and a bottle of aspirin that I’m going to leave on your nightstand for the morning.”

“You don’t want to be there in the morning?”

Cassian groaned. “You said it yourself, Sweetheart. Dinner first.”

“You’re never going to let me live this down.” Nesta sighed, head lulling onto his shoulder.

“Actually go for dinner with me next week and I promise to never bring this night up again. And bribe our friends to do the same.”

“Deal,” Nesta said immediately.

An hour later after Cassian had supervised Nesta drinking her water he was about to leave her apartment when she yawned.

“Hey Cass,” she mumbled, half asleep.

“Yes sweetheart?”

“You made a bad bargain. I would’ve gone out with you either way.”

Cassian chuckled, a low rumble. “I’m satisfied with the bargain I made.”

“Cheesy as hell.”

“You love it.”

Nesta laughed, “I am prepared to tolerate it at best.”

“Good enough for me.”

[songmingisthighs]

[14.01] hongjoong × roadie!reader × yunho

⇀ when hongjoong realized you've been spending quite some time with yunho, he felt threatened. you thought he'd appreciate you more than this, but boy did he have to prove you wrong once again.

⇁ tw : joong being an asshole

⇁ part 1 / 2 / 3

Feeling lighter than usual, you walked into Hongjoong's studio with a spring in your steps, obviously showcasing your happiness. Maybe it was the weather that day, maybe it was the favourite shirt you wore. Or maybe it was the fact that you were at a very lovely low-key lunch with Yunho.

Ever since the unfortunate event a couple of weeks ago (i.e. Hongjoong leaving you behind and Yunho rescuing you), you had been spending quite some time with Yunho. When you both went out to get dinner that day, he had somehow convinced you to give him your phone number.

You had your reservations initially, telling him that it wouldn't feel right for someone with your status as a nobody to have an idol's number. But he sweet-talked you by saying that he doesn't have many friends other than his pre-existing group of friends that he formed back when he was still just a trainee. He put on his best puppy eyes and guilt you into promising that you'd be his friend.

Of course, he kept his words even to a stranger. You had even met his friend group.

99z was everything you assumed and even more. You've got tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum, the tsundere who's secretly a nerd, the gentle giant, and of course him, the heartthrob with bad luck in romance.

Surprisingly, you made an immediate connection with them and they dubbed you the honorary member.

Yunho had never missed a day of contacting you. Even with his very busy schedule, he never missed checking up on you. Of course, the simple gesture made you feel all warm and fluttery, you felt appreciated and cared for.

"What took you so long?"

Your train of thought broke when Hongjoong called you, eyebrows furrowing as he stared at you with a weird expression. You smiled at him nevertheless as you put the food you bought him on the side of his desk, "Sorry, I got caught up a bit," you told him vaguely.

Hongjoong kept staring at you as if you had sprouted a second head.

"You were with him, weren't you?" he asked.

You turned your body to him, nervous about what to answer. But you nodded nevertheless, confirming his assumption, "if by him you meant Yunho, then yeah, I was," you said.

Seeing how happy you looked after a short lunch with Yunho somehow struck something in Hongjoong. He felt his left eye twitch as he scoffed, "You've really been neglecting what you promised to do around here," he complained.

Initially, you thought he was just joking or being sarcastic, so you shrugged it off by chuckling. It wasn't until a few moments later that you realized he was being serious.

With furrowed eyebrows, you decided to make sure that you weren't imagining things, "Are you serious? You really think I've been neglecting my duties? The duties I've been doing so splendidly with minimum pay since the beginning of your gig?" you didn't mean to sound harsh, but it just slipped.

Hearing your harsh tone seemed to irk Hongjoong as he stood to size you up with his hands on either side of his waist. If it weren't for the sudden tension, you would've surely broken into a fit of giggles by now.

"Yes, because if you haven't noticed, you've been nowhere around when I needed you to do things for me," he stated so daringly. You sighed in an attempt to remain calm, "Hongjoong, I don't think you realize that I do have my hours. I've always been present during working hours, more than other people in fact. Other than your manager who works 24 hours a day, seven days a week, four weeks a month, and twelve months a year, I work from eight to eight, sometimes twelve if things are crazy, six days a week. But I've never taken a day off because I know you'd need me," you told him.

Maybe it was the heat of the moment, or maybe it was his anxiety talking, but Hongjoong didn't know why he uttered his next words. By God, he could swear that he blacked out momentarily.

"Then maybe I don't need you," he spat. Your eyes widened, unable to believe what he just said to you. But he wasn't even close to being done.

Hongjoong looked at you with such intensity that you could take it as hate. "You said you wanted to be my roadie because you admired me and you wanted to be a part of my crew, but what are you doing now? You're slacking off to cater for a guy who you barely know. Isn't that just pathetic?" he scoffed.

At the mention of being pathetic, something finally snapped in you. You felt your left eye twitch, there was something bubbling in your stomach and you felt like you were going to puke.

Before you could even stop yourself, you slapped Hongjoong across his face.

When he registered the impact, he stared at you with eyes wide as saucers. The expression on your face was one he had never seen before. Around him, you were always bright and smiley, never had you showed him your anger or annoyance.

"Me hanging with Yunho is pathetic? PATHETIC!?" you asked, voice getting louder by the second. Hongjoong so wanted to reply with something snarky, but the slap you delivered seemed to have shocked him more than he would ever care to admit.

"You know what's pathetic, Hongjoong? Me following you around for two years. You had never spared me a glance, never thanked me for anything, and you even belittled me for literally EVERYTHING I do. THAT's pathetic, Hongjoong. I knew Yunho for like what, half a month? And not only had he thanked me even for small things, but he also asked me about my day and my feelings, Joong! I know! What a concept, right?" you told him sarcastically.

The situation was rather foreign to him. None of his staff had ever told him off like this. Or at all for that matter.

Hongjoong opened his mouth to defend himself but you raised a hand to stop him from saying anything else and continued, "I... I have always admired you, Joong. I never stopped. Not even when you humiliated me in the staff meeting by calling me an obsessive delusional fan, not when you called me a tone-deaf lay when I had an opinion about that one song your CEO didn't even let you release, and not when you left me at that broadcast station because YOU were pissy, so don't you question my loyalty when you're supposed to question your manners and actions towards the person who you know cares about you more than just as an idol but also as a person,"

You spoke at such speed that you couldn't even remember what you told him.

But saying all that felt like such a relief. It was such a rush that you never thought you'd be able to feel.

It was exciting, your mind had never been clearer, and your chest never felt lighter. There was a fluttering feeling in your stomach and your heart beat faster than before. Suddenly you felt like you could do anything you want, anything at all. Then a thought popped into your head, an idea that never popped into your mind until that very second, an idea that you know was right for you.

Without thinking twice, you blurted out.

"I quit," you told him.

Hongjoong's eyes widened and his mouth opened and closed like a fish. He never thought that you'd ever quit on him yet there you were, proving him wrong for the second time that day.

As you processed what you had just told him, you exhaled shakily and nodded your head, "I fucking quit, Joong! I-I-I- I'm gonna go out there and do something where I'd be appreciated, where I can make my own mark, you know?" as you spoke, you walked closer to him and when you were toe-to-toe with him, you grabbed his hands and gave him a gentle smile, "thank you so much for everything, Hongjoong. Without you, I don't think I would've gotten here in the first place, take care, okay?" you told him genuinely.

Before he could question how serious you were being, you leaned in and gave him a peck on his cheek. A peck that to you, was a symbol of you finally moving on to the next chapter in your life, whereas to Hongjoong it was a symbol of his screwup.

The peck you left him lingered for a bit before you pulled away. Your lips felt warm and comfortable on his skin, it made him feel fluttery inside. Which was why he was so dejected when you pulled away to give him one last goodbye.

"I hope you'll keep being great and you'd find the perfect people to work with, Joong," you told him as a single tear dropped from one of your eyes without you even realizing it.

As your hand left his, Hongjoong's chest suddenly felt heavy. As you turned your back and walked out, most likely forever, out of his studio and his life, Hongjoong's head suddenly spun. And when the door of his studio slammed shut behind you, Hongjoong felt like something cracked in him.

You left that day with much hope and excitement.

Whereas Hongjoong felt like the sturdy pillar that was supposed to support him was demolished by a wrecking ball and he didn't know what to do with the foreign feeling.

[alwaysmarveling]

Milestones

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

Warnings: None that I can think of, but please let me know if you think I’m forgetting any!

Word Count: 3.9k

Summary: You and Nat are starting a family. It’s challenging, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A/N: Welcome to the first series I’ve ever finished! I was a bit hesitant to publish this because, it being my first series, I’m not too sure how good it is and it does hold a special place in my heart, but if just one of you ends up liking it too, it’ll be worth it. This part is all fluff, but there will be angst in future parts. If you’re not a fan of that, this can just be read as a fluffy one-shot :) And big thanks to @vancityfire13 for talking this through with me, I really appreciate it <3

“He’s beautiful,” you sniffed, tears swelling in your eyes and spilling over the edge as they built up. Your wife squeezed your shoulder, and a drop landing just shy of your collarbone told you that she was crying too.

“He’s ours.” You cradled the baby boy—your baby boy—in your arms as he drank from your breast. “I still can’t believe they did it.” You let out a watery chuckle in response.

-

When Fury approached the two of you after he “accidentally” overheard your and Natasha’s conversation about having kids, you weren’t sure how to react. It was no secret among SHIELD that the two of you were together. In fact, you two had become somewhat of the organization’s power couple immediately after the many rumors claiming you were together were proven to be true. Still, the thought of all their best scientists working together just to give you two a biological child seemed a bit extreme, especially since the two of you did want to adopt someday. Nat, being the overprotective partner she was, was ready to launch herself at Fury, but you managed to pull her back before any real harm was done (Nat later got her revenge, and she made sure Fury didn’t tell you about it; she ended up confessing when you caught her looking just a bit too happy the next day though). The two of you had many long nights of talking over his offer, and before you knew it, you were pregnant with your first child, a child that would be biologically related to you and Natasha.

You guys had spent many nights talking about what your baby might look like, whether they’d have your laugh or her athleticism, your humor or her determination. Nat hoped they would be all you, while you could easily say the opposite.

When it came time to find out the baby’s sex, it took some serious convincing on Natasha’s part to get you to agree. In her mind, having a baby was surprise enough; she had to remind herself everyday that you really were pregnant with your child, her child. She did not need another surprise when the baby came. She wanted to be prepared, and who could blame her? You, on the other hand, wanted to wait. It was just the sex, after all. That didn’t change the preparations much. Nevertheless, after some bribery and more talking, you reluctantly agreed to learn the sex before the baby was born.

Hearing the words “it’s a boy” sent both of you into a tizzy. Nat wasn’t expecting it, and neither were you. Sure, there was a 50% chance of having a boy, but both of you were just so sure that it was a girl. After getting the doctor to check for the third time, you finally accepted that you were wrong.

Then came the discussion of names. What to name him, should he have a nickname, what would he call your friends and family?

One night, you took Natasha out for a walk around the park (this was before you got so big you couldn’t see your own feet) and a nice dinner on the waterfront. With the lights forming a halo around her already glowing face, you told her what you wanted the baby to be named: Igor. The minute you found the name, you knew it was perfect, and when you found out it was Russian and meant “warrior,” well, that was just icing on the cake.

“I’ve already got one Russian warrior who I love and adore more than words can express, and I can’t wait to have another. You’re everything I love and everything I want him to be. I think that’s what his name should be. And I know that, with a mom as perfect as you, he’ll live up to it.” You barely had time to get those last few words out before Natasha leaped over the table, silverware clinking and glasses wobbling as she lunged to pull your face into her hands, the two of you melting at the lips and forgetting about all the other patrons eating around you.

“I love you more than you know,” Natasha let out between breaths, finally letting you go.

“I have a feeling I do,” you giggled, “because I love you more.”

“Impossible.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yeah huh.” You two “argued” about that for the rest of the night.

Then came the nursery. Nat insisted that you only be allowed to help in designing. You were already seven months along, she said, and that was seven too many. Plus, she pointed out with a not-so-subtle wink, she didn’t need help when she had “guns as big as these.” With some not-so-gentle persuasion from Clint, you settled on a farm-themed nursery. Less than a week later, Clint had gone out to god-knows-how-many stores and came back with more than enough decorations and furniture to fill the baby’s room, the many leftovers spilling out into the hallways and even your bedroom (much to his dismay, you made him return more than half of what he bought). The nursery was completed within weeks, and then all the two of you had to do was wait for your little bundle of joy to arrive.

-

Insistent ringing from Natasha’s phone pulled the two of you out of your peaceful moment.

“It’s Fury,” Natasha huffed playfully. “He’s asking if ‘the gross part is over yet.’ You ready to show him off to the world?”

“My world is all right here,” you murmured, fully sincere in what you were saying.

“As is mine.” The redhead’s finger lifted your chin up, your gaze shifting from your little boy to the prettiest woman in the universe. “I’m the luckiest woman in the world.”

“I tell myself that every day,” you smiled, meeting her lips in a sweet kiss.

---

“Nat! Come quick! Hurry! I think he’s going to do it!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” your wife responded with equal urgency. “You going to do it, Igoryok? You going to walk for Mamas?” The baby boy giggled, nothing but pure glee on his face as he pushed himself to stand. You held out your arms to your son, cooing words of encouragement as he stumbled his way towards you. He started maybe only four feet away, but when he finally made it to you, you swung him into the air and you and Nat cheered like he had just finished first in the 400 metres at the Olympics. You could’ve sworn your life couldn’t get any better than it was at that point, safe, happy, and healthy with the two people you loved most in the world right by your side.

“Did you get it on video, Natty?”

“Of course, malyshka. Such a big milestone needs to be kept forever, isn’t that right, Igoryok?” Igor laughed when the redhead reached over and tickled him just under his chin. The two of you soon joined in, his joyous giggles impossible to resist.

-

“You’re an amazing mother,” Nat murmured to you that night as the two of you laid in bed. “And you’re raising an amazing son. I love you.” She tilted her head down to meet your lips.

“I love you too, Nat, but you’re also raising an amazing son. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.” She nodded slowly, reluctantly. “What is it?”

“I just… Being here today with you and Igor, it was perfect. Everything was perfect. And I hate how I have to throw us out of that every time I leave.” You frowned as you turned onto your stomach, pushing yourself up on one arm and using the other hand to cup Nat’s face.

“You’re not the only one working, you know. I feel that way too, every time I have to go on a mission or even just leave for the office.”

“I know,” she sighed. “But I’m gone so much more often than you are. Especially now that you’ve switched to mostly training others.”

“Just because you’re not here all the time doesn’t make you a bad mom, Tash. You’re the best mom because you love him with all of your heart and you’ll do anything for him. And-“

“I want to retire.”

“What?” Out of all the things that could’ve come out of Nat’s mouth, that was not the one you were expecting or prepared for.

“I wanna be there when he says his first words and when he loses his first tooth and when he goes to school for the first time. I want to be here.”

“But… you love your job.”

“I know,” she whispered, her eyes shining. “But I love Igor more.”

“And Igor will know that. Igor already knows that. Sweetheart, part of doing anything for Igor includes protecting him from bad guys. You do that every day you go to work. You show him you love him by fighting to give him the best life possible. If you want to retire,” your hand finally slid down from her cheek to hold her hand, “then I will support you every step of the way. But if you’re doing this because you think you’re a bad mother if you don’t, then you need to know that that is not true at all.” Natasha bit her lip as she thought over what you said. You gave her the time she needed, rubbing small circles into the back of her hand.

You would be lying if you said you never had those same thoughts. Both of you felt awful every time you had to hand Igor over to one of the nanny or even one of the Avengers or their families. The two of you loved them and Igor loved them, and they always took amazing care of him, but it was hard to not feel bad knowing your child wanted nothing more than to be in your arms. The first time Igor wailed as you handed him over to Laura, you filled out all the retirement paperwork the next day, keeping it on your desk for weeks before you eventually talked yourself out of it.

Just as Natasha was opening her mouth to respond, she was interrupted by Igor’s cries from the baby monitor.

“I’ll get him,” your wife reassured you. You nodded reluctantly, not wanting to stop the conversation but knowing you’d have to regardless of who left.

---

“Guess who’s coming home today, buddy?” Igor babbled random syllables back at you, grabbing onto your hair as you lifted him out of his crib. “Gentle, Igor, gentle,” you winced, slowly pulling his hands away from your locks. Sounds from downstairs had you looking away from Igor and towards the hallway.

“That must be Mama!” You weren’t too sure if he understood you, but he definitely fed off of your excitement, letting out another string of syllables and clapping his hands together.

“Hellooo! Anybody home?” Natasha’s red hair was the first thing you saw as you rounded the corner to see the front door. “Hi, rybka! How are you doing?” Your boy held his hands out to Natasha, obviously excited to see her. She grinned back at the two of you, but both of your eyes grew wide when he opened his mouth.

“Mama!” With that one word, you could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating. Nat’s eyes met yours, the love she felt for you and your son overflowing in the form of crystal droplets that filled her green orbs.

“That’s right, Igor, Mama. Can you give Mama a kiss?” You smiled as you handed Igor to Nat, your little boy puckering his lips dramatically to plant a wet kiss on her cheek.

“Thank you, Igoryok,” the redhead laughed. “He said ‘Mama,’ Y/N. His first word! He called me ‘mama.’” She was smiling so hard her cheeks were practically trembling.

“Because you are his mama. The best mama in the whole wide world,” you murmured, kissing her other cheek.

“No one could ever be as good as you. I love you so much, malyshka.”

“I love you too.”

“Mama!” The two of you laughed once again, your intimate moment interrupted but neither of you could complain.

“How was the mission?” you asked, both of you somewhat preoccupied with the bouncing babe in Nat’s arms.

“Good. Clean.”

“No injuries?”

“Not even a bruise.” You scanned her face and body to see if she was lying, and eventually nodded once you were satisfied.

“Good. Now, I believe it is someone’s dinner time.”

---

“Hi, Igoryok, how was school?”

“Hi, Mama. It was good. We learned about the letter ‘m’ today. Mama, did you know ‘m’ goes ‘mm’?”

“It does? I thought it sounded different.”

“No, Mama, you’re silly. Your name starts with an ‘m.’”

“Huh, I think you’re right. Did you know that, babe? Mama starts with an ‘m,’” Natasha winked at you.

“No, I didn’t know that, but thank you for sharing that with me,” you smiled back. “You're not going to say hi to me, Iggy?”

“Hi, Mom. Your name starts with ‘m’ too.” Igor bent over the center console in between the two of you. “Can we get ice cream? Please?” Your wife laughed before turning to you.

“I’m not too sure what that has to do with letters, but what do you say, Mom?” Nat asked, a smirk on her face as she emphasized the first letter.

“Um, it does because…” The two of you watched, amused, as Igor’s face scrunched up in concentration. Suddenly, he lit up, a grin overtaking his expression. “It does because ice cream starts with an “i”! And my name starts with an “i” too, Mamas. Which means I should get some ice cream.” He paused for a moment upon seeing the two of you glance at him expectantly. “Please?”

“You’re very right, Ig,” you smiled. “And for that, we can go get ice cream. But I thought you would’ve wanted to go to the park. We brought your bike.”

“You did?” His baby-tooth grin only grew when he turned to see the lime green metal and black handlebars peeking out of the trunk. “Yes! Mama, c’mon, let’s go!”

“You need to buckle up, Igoryok, or we’re not going anywhere.” The four-year-old rushed to his car seat. The minute he was settled, he began squirming again.

“Can we still get ice cream after?”

“Sure, Iggy,” you laughed. Nat removed her right hand from the steering wheel and rested it on your thigh.

“Alright, let’s go.”

-

“Mama, you took the training wheels off, right?”

“Yep,” your wife grunted, lifting the bike out of the car and placing it on the pavement.

“Mom, watch me! I’m going to ride it all by myself! Today’s the day, I can feel it!” You managed to grab him by the shoulders just before he could hop on the bike.

“Not so fast, what are you forgetting, buddy?”

“Uh, a positive attitude?”

“That’s important, but I think you have plenty of that right now,” you smiled. “Try again.” Igor bit his lip as he thought about what he could possibly be missing.

“I love you?”

“I love you too, but still not it. You remember this?” He groaned when he saw the helmet in your hands.

“I don’t need it, Mom. I won’t fall, I promise!”

“I like that promise, but I still need you to promise to wear this. Okay?”

“But I don’t want to,” he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. Your wife bent down to reach Igor’s eye level.

“Igoryok, can I tell you a secret?” Igor’s tresses bounced as he turned his gaze to Nat, his eyes filled with skepticism. “Well, you know how Mama wears her helmet whenever she goes out on her bike? You wanna know why I do it?”

“Why?” he asked, his skepticism fading into intrigue.

“It helps me balance and makes me go faster. I can’t ride as well as I do without it. In fact, I think I might even fall off.”

“Really? But you’re so good, Mama!” Eyes closed, Nat shook her head.

“Only with my helmet. And only when I wear it correctly. Otherwise I’d fall right off and get hurt. So can you promise to wear your helmet correctly so that you go faster and don’t fall off?”

“Okay, Mama. Can you put it on for me though? I think you’ll do it better.”

“I’d love to, Igoryok.” You flashed Nat a grateful smile as she took the helmet from you to secure it on his head. “Alright, all set. You go get warmed up, yeah?”

“Okay, Mama, but hurry up!”

“I’ll be there in a second, rybka.” Natasha stood up and wrapped an arm around your waist. “Don’t let him see me riding the motorcycle when I’m on a mission.” You stifled a laugh, letting your head rest on her shoulder as you watched Igor waddle around on his bike, his sneakers lighting up every time they hit the pavement.

“I’ll try my best. Have I told you how good of a mother you are?”

“Yes, you have. Multiple times.” You didn’t have to look at Nat to know her cheeks were quickly becoming the same shade as her hair. “I just hope he’ll be this easy to convince when he’s not four.”

“We’ll, uh, cross that bridge when we get to it. Besides, it’s a little easier to convince him when he sees you as his hero.”

“Stop with the flattery,” the spy groaned, now extremely flustered.

“But you make it so easy. And so fun.” You squealed immediately after the last word and pulled yourself away from your wife. “Why’d you poke me?”

“Don’t act all innocent, you know exactly what you did.”

“I’m not acting innocent, I am innocent.”

“Are you now?” Natasha stalked towards you, a smirk on her lips and a mischievous glint in her eye. Before she could reach you, though, Igor pushed his way in between the two of you with his bike.

“C’mon, Mama! I warmed up!” With one last glance at you, Natasha sighed.

“Alright, let’s go, Igoryok. You just watch your back, babe. I’ll get you.”

“Ooo, Mom’s in troubleee,” Igor chanted, and with that, they were off.

-

“Mom! Look at me! I’m going to get it on this one, I can feel it!”

“I’m watching!” you promised despite having never taken your eyes off of Igor and Natasha the whole time. Igor flashed you a grin in response before putting his feet on the pedals. Natasha murmured something in his ear as he started pedaling. She had one hand on the handlebars and one on his back to keep him steady. The pair moved together for a few seconds until Igor began to speed up. Half-running, half-jogging, your wife finally let go of the bike with a firm push to your son’s back, and much to everyone’s delight, he kept going.

“Mom! I’m doing it! I’m really doing it!”

“Pay attention to what’s in front of you, Igoryok!” Natasha called when he began to swerve. Eyes wide, Igor managed to correct himself before he crashed into a tree. You got up from the bench and ran to meet the former assassin, but you kept your eyes on Igor the whole time.

“I guess this family has two biker babes now.”

“I guess we do. Look at him go, malyshka.” Her chest was puffed out, obviously proud of her son, his tongue poking out of his mouth slightly as he concentrated on turning around. Your eyes shot open when it seemed like he was going to fall, but he regained his balance and increased his speed twofold on his return to you. “Maybe we should try for another.”

“What?”

“Another, uh, what’d you call it? A biker babe?” Natasha barked out a laugh as you moved to slap her shoulder. “I mean, Igor’s been asking for a sibling for a while now. Maybe it’s time.” Natasha maintained her glance on your son, too nervous to meet your eyes.

“Another biker babe, huh? Or maybe another little fish?”

“Another rybka, yes,” Nat chuckled.

“Maybe it is time.” The former assassin’s shoulders relaxed as you slipped your hand into hers. “A girl this time?”

“We’ll see. It is what Igor’s been asking for, but...” A smirk played on your wife’s face as she remembered when you two first learned you’d be having a son.

“Natasha Jr.?”

“Oh god, no!” your wife laughed.

“Natalia? Natalie?” Natasha buried her face in your neck so that her lips were pressed to your shoulder. She still peeked out slightly to keep an eye on your son.

“Babe, we are not naming the baby after me.”

“What about for her middle name?” Your wife groaned as she hit your arm, but you could feel her lips curving upward.

“No.” Natasha paused, her lower lip stuck between her teeth. “What do you think about Karolina? It means ‘free man.’”

“Karolina,” you repeated. You would’ve teased her about already having a name picked out, but the constant shifting of her right foot told you this maybe wasn’t the right time. “I like it.”

With Igor quickly approaching, you ended the conversation with a peck to Nat’s cheek and bent down to greet your son. When he made it to the two of you, he immediately hopped off of the bike and ran into your open arms.

“I did it, Mom! Did you see me? I turned around too!”

“I did, Iggy! You did so, so good!” You pulled the boy onto your hip. “Don’t tell Mama, but I think you might’ve gone even faster than her.” Igor giggled, wrapping his arms around your neck.

“You think so?” he whispered.

“I know so.”

“Ahem, what are you two saying?” Nat had her hands on her hips as her foot tapped the ground, this time out of fake anger rather than nerves.

“Nothing, Mama. Did you see me? I did good, right? And my helmet helped me stay on!”

“I’m very proud of you, Igoryok. Both Mom and I are,” she murmured, tilting her head to avoid the helmet and kiss his cheek. “So now that you know your helmet is good, you have to promise us to wear it whenever you go on your bike, you got it?”

“Got it.” His locks bounced as he nodded his head. “I’m going to go again, okay, Mamas? And then later we can get ice cream?”

“You got it, bud.” You let him down, his legs wiggling before he reached the ground. The second he hit the surface, he was off.

---

You cherished every time you got to see Igor hit a milestone. You and Nat had each missed some—like you being away the day he scored his first soccer goal or Nat going on a mission during his first Halloween—but when you did, the other made sure to talk about it in so much detail you felt like you were there.

And when you were all there together… Your heart filled with pride whenever Igor did something new, but that feeling was nothing in comparison to seeing your son’s pride in himself and having Nat there next to you to experience it. Each milestone of Igor’s was so much better than you could’ve ever imagined because, with each one, you got to see your little boy growing, thriving. For each new accomplishment, you could feel the love between the three of you, practically pull it out of the air, make a cocoon out of it, and wrap yourself in it for weeks on end. Your little boy’s milestones weren’t just for himself, but it was for your family as a whole, the three of you growing closer and stronger with each step. You couldn’t wait to see what he would do next.

-----

Read Chapter 2 here

[ghostdrew22]

More || Draco Malfoy

Requested: No Pairing: post-war Draco Malfoy x fem!reader Warnings: Pregnancy, miscarriage, some swearing, a bit of angst and so much flufffff

WORDS : 2786

~~~

Song - More by Halsey

“A couple years of waiting rooms“

“They told me it's useless, there's no hope in store But somehow I just want you more“

“I sit and I stare at your clothes in the drawer I cry and my knuckles get sore 'Cause I still believe it won't be like before“

“And nothing could stop me from giving a try I've loved you for all of my life“

~~~

“I’m sorry to tell you this but, you’ve lost the baby.” Dean Thomas- Head Healer in the pediatric and maternal division of St Mungo’s- says to Y/N and Draco Malfoy as they both sit in silence in his office.

“Do you know why this keeps happening?” You ask- barely able to blurt the words out without sobbing.

“I’m afraid not- Y/N, you just might not be able to have children.”

Draco tenses and draws in a breath- “That’s outrageous, isn’t there something you can do?”

You notice his frustration and place your hand on his thigh to calm him down- even though a sea of rage and grief is currently flowing through you as well. You’d always thought that you’d be a mother by now- your own having easily given birth to three children by age 32- and yet here you are, eight tries and four miscarriages later.

“We’ve tried everything…” Healer Thomas sighs and offers you both a solemn look. “It’s beyond our control.”

“So now what?” You rasp- tears tugging at your throat with every word.

“Honestly? Just keep trying.”

“You said that to us a year and a half ago.” Draco grits out.

“That was when I thought I could help- it seems that I overestimated my own abilities.”

“That’s unprofessional.”

“I know, I apologise.” Healer Thomas sits up in his chair, “Cases like this are so rare- I didn’t think it was this serious.”

“That was your fault then.”

“It was, I know… Look, adoption is always an option if Y/N can’t-“

“There’s nothing wrong with my wife, so don’t phrase that sentence like there is.”


“I’m not, I’m jus-“

“You don’t think she’s having a hard enough time without your two cents?”

“Draco, it’s oka-“ You start- wanting to calm him down but he’s already fuming and there’s nothing you can say that will help.

“No Y/N, it isn’t- he can’t condemn you for something that you can’t help, especially when it’s his job to find a way to make this easier for you.” Draco gets out of his chair and pulls you out of yours as well before turning to Healer Thomas once more. “You’re a right knob, you know that?”

You send Healer Thomas an apologetic eye as your husband turns on his heels and walks you both out of the office. Once you’re back in the busy hospital hallway you turn to face him with a huff- ready to have a go at him for being so rude- but before you know it he’s pulled you into his chest and you’re sighing into his arms.

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too Draco…” You whisper into his chest and start to pull away slowly, “But-“

“Don’t ask me to apologise, I won’t do it.” He says adamantly as he crosses his arms like an angry toddler. “He was being an arsehole and he let us down- after months and hundreds of galleons.”

“So you’re angry about the money?” You raise your eyebrows at your husband who rolls his eyes and lowers his arms so that he can grasp your hands in his own.

“You know that I don’t give a shit about the money- I only care about you and you’ve been crying yourself to sleep over this crap for months, I’m sick and tired of having to watch you blame and hate yourself for something that isn’t your fault. I understand what he was saying but he should’ve picked his words better, there’s nothing wrong with you and I don’t want you to continuously feel like there is.”

“But then why-“

“I don’t know why Y/N. I’d do anything to find an answer for you- I’d do anything for us to start our family right now and you know that. But we clearly have a mountain ahead of us and I need you to believe in yourself if we’re going to climb it, yeah?”

“…” You look up at your husband in silence for a second- observing the look of hope consuming his features- “Yeah.”

“Good. Now we’re going to go home-“

“We have dinner at Harry’s-“

“We’re going to go home.” He repeats- indicating that it isn’t up for discussion and you nod slowly in agreement. “I’ll run you a bath and while you enjoy it, I’ll cook your favourite. Then after dinner we cuddle on the couch and eat ice cream.”

“And Harry’s?”

“I’ll owl him and let him know that we can’t make it this week cause we’re sick.”

You sigh and nod. Draco grabs your hand in his and pulls out his wand to apparate you back home. He fulfills his promises and cancels dinner with the Potter’s- deciding that it would be too difficult to sit through dinner while mini Harry and Ginny’s crawl around the floor. You snuggle into the couch instead to watch Disney movies in silence- trying not to think about how empty your house on the cul-de-sac is without the sound of tiny feet scraping against the floor.

~~~

“Well?” You raise your eyes to your husband as he eyes the muggle pregnancy test in his hands.

He sighs and shakes his head- turning behind him to drop the contraption into the bin and wash his hands.

“I’m broken.” You mumble and drop your head into your hands as you sit on the closed toilet- cursing yourself for thinking that it would be different this time.

“You’re not broken Y/N.” Draco chuckles and makes his way onto his knees so that he can look up at you. “It’s hard getting pregnant.”

“Not for everyone else.” You say exasperatedly and bring your head up to look him in the eyes as he kneels below you. “Ginny and Hermione and Luna are popping out children like it’s a bloody competition.”

“You’re not any of them.” He cups your face in his hands, “And the Weasley’s have genes like rabbits- don’t compare yourself to them.”

“I’d like to have genes like that.” You mumble and pout at him which makes him roll his eyes.

“You want to have genes like that? Then what- you produce the next era of the Weasley clan?”

You giggle and shake your head at him.

“Exactly love.” He plops a kiss on your forehead and releases your face to stand up.

“You know what sucks?” He hums in response as an indication for you to continue, “I keep thinking that it’ll be different next time. We order new clothes, we make plans for the nursery, we start to plan our lives around this baby that we’re so sure that we’re going to have and then every time it doesn’t work out. And every time, I love this baby that we don’t have, even more.”

“I know, it’s like the yearning just makes your heart bigger to hold more love for them.”

“Yes, exactly!” You exclaim with a sigh, “What are we going to do?”

“I was thinking…” Draco starts nervously- fiddling with his fingers- “Maybe we should expand our horizons beyond St Mungo’s.”

You look up as he towers above you and raise your eyebrows at him in questioning, “Expand them to what?”

“Muggles- gynecologists.”

You draw in a breath and observe the look on his face- taking note of how serious and thoughtful he appears to be. “I don’t kn-“

“Look, I’ve already found a few that are willing to meet with us.” He puts his hand out for you to grab, “Let’s just have a sit down with them, hear what they have to say and decide whether or not it’s worth a try afterwards. Yeah?” He asks you with his eyebrows raised.

You process his words and nod slowly- agreeing with reluctance- as you clasps his hand in your own and hoist yourself up off the toilet. “We can hear them out.”

“Thank you love.” He whispers and brings you into him for a kiss.

~~~

“We’ve met with some muggle doctors that say they can help us.” Draco replies to parents as he takes your hand and smiles nervously- worried about how his parents will take the news.

“But we’re probably not going to do it.” You whisper in addition quickly and look down at your plate of food- much to Draco’s dismay as he sends you a disappointed look.

“Why not?” Narcissa furrows her eyebrows in confusion, “Don’t you want children?”

“Yes…” You mumble and look up to glance at your in-laws, “But I don’t know if muggle medicine is the best option.”

“No one said it was the best option,” Narcissa starts as she offers you a smile, “But it’s an option.”

“Which is better than nothing, Y/N.” Lucius finishes for his wife and gives you a soft look of encouragement.

“That’s what I’ve been saying.” Draco responds quietly- squeezing your hand in an effort to comfort your nerves.

“But what’s the likelihood of muggle doctors fixing the problem when our own best and brightest, can’t?” You choke out- tears starting to claw their way up your throat.

Lucius begins with a sigh, “A muggles perspective might grant some clarity.”

“Look, how about you give it a try, and if it doesn’t work then you keep looking?” Narcissa beams and you feel a wave of relief wash over you at the overwhelming support of your husband and his parents.

If this had been your own parents they would’ve ridiculed you for being unable to naturally produce a child and completely shunned the idea of using medical assistance- let alone muggle medicine- to get pregnant.

“Okay.” You sigh and smile- your hand squeezing Draco’s back and dragging a smile from him. “We’ll try it.”

~~~

“Well?” You asks Draco as you sit on the closed toilet. It’s been three months since that night at the Malfoy Manor when you agreed to use muggle medicine- the very next morning you went back to meet doctor Kiran who got you started on a treatment plan immediately- and this is the first test you’ve taken since.

“I’d like to point out that these are a bit dehumanising- is there no better way than to piss on a stick?” Draco mumbles as he pulls the test out of the container he’d dropped it into after you’d taken it.

“Draco!”

“Hmm?” He looks back at you.

“Focus.”

“Oh! Yeah.” He chuckles nervously and brings up the test so that he can read the results. “Y/N…” He starts solemnly and you look down at the ground and sigh immediately in disappointment.

“This is bullshit.”


“It really is.” Draco breathes out as a smile creeps out onto his face, “I don’t think seven months is nearly enough time to come up with the perfect dad joke.”

“What?” You look up at him suddenly- hope glistening in your eyes- and see that he’s got the brightest smile on his face.

“You’re two months along Y/N.”

“Don’t fuck with me.” You respond with a smile- unable to contain the excitement you’re feeling.

“On my life- both tests are positive.” He says as he hands them both to you so that you can see the ‘+’ and ‘2’ written in bright red on the sticks. “We’re going to have a baby.” He breathes out.

“We’re going to have a baby!” You exclaim as you jump off the seat and into your husband’s arms.

~~~

“I’m delighted to introduce you to your daughter.” Dean Thomas exclaims in excitement as he brings the new addition to the Malfoy family in to the room after she’s been cleaned up. “You did really well Y/N, a true champ.” He pats your shoulders as the nurses hand you your daughter.

“That’s my wife.” Draco watches you endearingly as you hold your newborn.

“I’m so sorry that I couldn’t be more help before.”

“Don’t worry about it- we figured it out.” Draco says with a smile on his face.

“I’m really happy for you both- you deserve this.” Dean utters as he pats Draco on the back.

“Thank you… for everything.” Dean nods at Draco.

“I’ll leave you to it then.” Dean says as he makes his way out of the hospital room so that you can be alone.

“Come look at her, Dray.” You rasp out- your voice still raw from all the yelling you were doing only hours before during the delivery- and Draco swiftly makes his way to your side so that he can pick up his daughter.

“Ew, we’re crying.” You say in mock disgust as you note that tears are falling from both you and your husband’s faces.

“This is disgustingly cheesy.” Draco chuckles as he lifts one hand from underneath the baby to wipe the tears off of your face.

Weeks of long nights spent in muggle hospital rooms and copious amounts of medication finally paid off- you have your beautiful daughter, to hold and to love, right in front of you. It almost feels too good to be true.

“Can we please meet our grandchild now?” Narcissa asks excitedly as her and Lucius walk in beaming. Draco nods at them with a laugh and brings his daughter toward his parents for them to hold her.

“Here’s your granddaughter.”

“She’s perfect.” Lucius chokes out as he stares down at the bundle of blankets in his arms- feeling a wave of happiness wash over him that is similar to the one he felt at his own son’s birth. “She has Y/N’s eyes.”

“And Draco’s face.” Narcissa whispers with adoration- love washing over her features completely. “Congratulations my love.” She utters as she moves away from the baby and goes to catch her son in a hug- who still has a few tears running down his face.

“Thank you mother.” He whispers into her shoulder.

“And Y/N.” Narcissa walks toward you with a smile so bright it could blind the heavens, “I’m so happy for you darling.”

“Thank you Narcissa- for everything.” You breathe out with a smile as you melt into the warmth and affection of Narcissa’s arms. “We wouldn’t have been able to go through with it if it wasn’t for your support.”

“What is family for?” Lucius perks up from his spot next to Draco with a chuckle- handing the baby back to his son so that he can also hug you. “You did good.”

“I tried.” You chuckle back into his embrace.

“You succeeded, exceptionally.”

“Will there be any more?” Narcissa asks with a smile as she cooes at her granddaughter that she’s holding in her arms- already imaging all of the ways in which she can spoil the child rotten and clasp her love as the favourite grandparent.

You and Draco catch each other’s eyes and smile- already knowing the answer.

~~~

“You’ll never catch me alive!” A small voice says before a body jumps onto the bed and lands above the blankets beside you- startling you awake suddenly.

You shuffle about in the bed- feeling that something above the covers is weighing them down and making it difficult for you to shift them around- and finally peer your head out of the blankets in defeat.

“Oh look, it’s my little chocolate frog.” You exclaim once the fog of sleep wears off and you can see your daughter peering down at you with a bright smile.

“Hi mum.” She giggles out as she moves to climb beneath the covers with you.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m running away from dad.”

“Wh-“

“I thought we agreed that we’re letting mum sleep, peanut?” Draco cuts you off as he stands in the doorway and questions his daughter with furrowed eyebrows- his toddler son trailing on all fours behind him.

“That deal was cancelled.”

“Why?”

“You know what you did.” She mumbles menacingly as she glares softly at her father.

“What did you do, Draco?” You asks from the bed with a laugh.

“I tried to give her a bath.” He deadpans in amusement and you laugh back.

“I’m beyond cleanliness!” Your daughter exclaims in response, “Besides, I thought mum could use some cuddles.”

“I do love cuddles, Dray.” You replies very seriously- even though there’s a huge smile plastered on your lips.

“Well, might as well give her what she wants.” Draco chuckles as he reaches down to carry your 14 month old son off the ground and walks toward the bed to join his two favourite girls. “Happy mother’s day, Y/N.”

Draco settles into the bed- putting his son in first so that both children are sandwiched inbetween you two- and leans over the kids to place a kiss on your lips. Your little display of affection earns a disgusted groan from your daughter and you both pull away with amused expressions.

“Mommy!” Your son exclaims in excitement as he climbs over his sister and lands on your lap.

“Hi bubba.” You giggle and place a kiss on his forehead. He smiles cheekily and tries to recite the words he’d been rehearsing with Draco only minutes before.

“Happy mommy day.”

“Thank you, bubba.”

“I hope you love us because we’re the reason it’s your day.” Your daughter adds in a matter-of-fact tone that has both you and Draco laughing.

“Oh angel,” You finally breathe out with a smile, “I’ve loved you for all of my life.”

[kpopfanfictrash]

Raise the Barre (Ch. 7)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: mention of vomit, intense physical training, blood blisters 

Word Count: 6,829

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.  

Fifteen minutes later, Jimin pulled to a stop at the edge of the curb.

Stepping from the sidewalk, you hastened to the passenger side and opened the door. Your wait had mostly been uneventful, but you hated standing alone in the dark for any longer than necessary. Sliding into the passenger seat, you pulled the door shut and turned sideways to face him.

“Thanks,” you exhaled, seeing him for the first time tonight.

Jimin looked sleepy, as though your call had woken him up – which it probably had, since it was near 1:30 AM. Yesterday when you spoke, Jimin had said he planned on going to bed early. He was dressed in what Noelle would’ve called a groutfit – grey sweats, grey hoodie and silver-framed glasses. You blinked at these, not having realized Jimin wore contacts.

“No problem.” Jimin stifled a yawn. “Seat belt.”

“Huh?”

“Put on your seat belt.” He nodded at the strap by your side.

“Oh – right.” Hastily, you pulled this across your chest. “Thanks.”

Silence fell as you did, the awkwardness increasing with each passing second. Usually, you were better about things like car safety, but everything about this moment felt surreal. Jimin had given you his number barely twenty-four hours prior – you highly doubted this was what he had in mind when he said he’d call.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted, unsure what to do.

Jimin’s lips twitched. “It’s fine, Y/N.”

Glancing his way, you found Jimin’s profile dimly lit by the streetlights. He sat spread-legged in the driver’s seat; one hand placed casually on the shift. When he caught you looking, Jimin arched a brow and shifted the car into drive.

Pulling from the curb, he merged into traffic headed away from the club. As the bright lights of Excelsior disappeared into the rearview mirror, the cars on the road became few and far between. You drove in silence, city lights striping Jimin’s profile in black and white.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Is everything okay?” Jimin asked, too casual to be normal.

It took you a moment to answer.

Usually, you would’ve responded yes even if it weren’t the case, since no one truly wanted to hear about your problems. Asking someone how are you? in the city was the same as a nod hello. It wasn’t genuine interest in another person’s well-being.

Tonight though, your usual responses caught in your throat. Tonight, you felt tired, frayed and dangerously thin at the seams.

Everything was not okay, and you weren’t sure how to say otherwise. Your usual walls had been torn, leaving you with this sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your fight with Finn had been a big one, even worse than the argument a few weeks ago.

Still, Jimin was a newer friend to you – if you could even call him that. It wasn’t fair to unload all your problems on him. Especially at such a late hour and especially not when he was the one doing you a favor.

“Yeah,” you said at last. “Everything’s fine.”

Jimin paused, as though he knew this to be bullshit.

“Let me rephrase,” he said, shifting in his seat. “Anyone’s ass I should kick?”

You laughed a little, surprised by his threat. “No, no,” you said, shaking your head. “Nothing like that.”

“Good.” Jimin’s smile faded. “So, what happened then? How’d you get stranded?”

He didn’t ask why you called him, but the implication was clear in his voice. Honestly, it was a question you had no good answer to. All you knew was when you were standing on the curb, staring at your phone and wondering who to call, Jimin was one of the first people to pop into your mind.

“I was out with my boyfriend,” you sighed. “I said I’d go to the club with him and his friends, but it got late and we have class tomorrow, so I told Finn I wanted to leave. He… didn’t.” Pausing, you swallowed. “I ended up leaving, but I didn’t realize the trains had stopped running. Uber surcharge was ridiculous, too.”

“Oh.” Jimin’s grip on the wheel tightened.

“Anyways.” You slouched lower in his seat. “You’re the only person I know with a car, so…”

“Ah. Right.”

Curious, you glanced sideways. Although Jimin was responding in one-word answers, they seemed somehow loaded, as though they contained hidden meaning. Even his profile seemed cautious, full of a tension you couldn’t quite place.

Jimin frowned. “Your boyfriend just… let you leave like that?”

“He didn’t let me,” you said as you straightened. “I can make my own decisions, Park.”

“I know, I just…”

“You just what, Park? Spit it out.”

“I don’t know.” Jimin shrugged. “It just seems kind of cold. That’s all.”

“Yeah, well.” Truth be told, it seemed cold to you, too. “I’m not exactly… thrilled with the situation, either. He turned off his phone,” you muttered, turning to face the window.

In the reflection, you saw Jimin grimace.

“Sorry,” he said quietly.

“What for?”

“That just sucks, that’s all.”

“Yeah. It does suck.”

Jimin made an indiscernible noise of agreement before lapsing into silence.

It was strange to be in a car with him at this late an hour; oddly intimate for a multitude of reasons you pushed aside.

The last time you’d seen Jimin dressed so casually had been when you walked in on him with Sabrina. It had been nearly a month since then, but you hadn’t heard any gossip of them being together on campus. 

Maybe this was something you could’ve asked Jimin, but it wasn’t like you had that type of relationship. Sure, you were ballet partners and sure, you’d been getting along lately, but you didn’t usually interact outside of class. Yet another line you’d crossed by calling Jimin tonight.

Thus far, you’d mostly managed to keep Finn and Russet separate. Noelle had met Finn a couple of times – you’d gone to dinner once and gotten coffee together another time, but otherwise, nothing. Finn wouldn’t have wanted to come to one of your Grace Hall rom-com marathons or take a pilates class on Sunday morning.

Mixing personal life and dance felt strange to you, as though two separate halves of yourself were colliding. It was odd to see Jimin outside of Russet’s walls. He seemed more at ease in his car, like the lines of him had blurred more from dancer to person.

Something about the nighttime made things seem fuzzier. Tired from the day and just beginning to thaw from the cold, you found your lips and mind looser than usual.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Jimin said, interrupting the silence. “But I didn’t even know you had a boyfriend.”

With a humorless sort of laugh, you turned to face him. “Yeah, well. I do.”

“Huh.”

Hearing his skepticism, you insisted, “I do!”

“I believe you!” Jimin chuckled. He paused. “Is it new, then? I don’t remember anyone coming to watch your dance competitions in high school.”

Warmth spread through your body, realizing Jimin must’ve kept tabs. He’d watched you at dance competitions. He knew your usual crowd of supporters.

“Finn isn’t new,” you said slowly. “He just didn’t come to a lot of competitions. They got repetitive, you know? Lots of waiting around for three minutes of watching me dance.”

“I guess.” Jimin shrugged. “I used to go to my ex’s tennis tournaments all the time, though. That was the same thing, except no AC.”

“Right,” you laughed. “You’re right, at least our competitions had air conditioning.”

Jimin turned on his blinker to switch lanes. Pulling onto a side street, he glanced in the rearview mirror. Another moment passed, and then –

“We broke up before college.”

Surprised, you glanced in his direction. “Oh. Okay.”

You stared at his profile, wondering if you were supposed to say something more. You could think of many questions to ask, but they didn’t seem appropriate coming from you. You hadn’t realized Jimin was dating someone in high school – although, come to think of it, you did seem to remember a blonde girl cheering for him in the audience at Applause Dance Competition.

“It seemed like time,” Jimin continued quietly. “She went to a school across the country and we just never assumed we’d stay together. That sounds bad,” he said with a half-laugh. “I kind of figured though, if we were meant to be, we’d figure it out. The fact that we didn’t try spoke volumes.”

“That makes sense. Honestly,” you said with a sigh. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if me and Finn had been long distance.”

As soon as the words left your lips, you blinked. The statement hung before you in mid-air, forcing you to consider it for the first time.

This wasn’t something you’d allowed yourself to imagine before; what would’ve happened if you’d gone to a different school. Going to college so close to Finn had just seemed like a sign. You didn’t have the college break-up talk because you’d simply assumed you didn’t need to.

“Yeah.” Jimin sighed. “It’s hard, right? Everything is changing so quickly. You want things to stay the same, but isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? Change. Grow. I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Everyone keeps telling me change isn’t a bad thing.”

“Sure seems like it, sometimes,” you said softly.

Jimin nodded. After a moment, he reached out for the stereo. A familiar song filled his car and something uncertain unfurled in your stomach. You weren’t sure what you were even talking about anymore – change was a dangerous topic without Finn around.

When the chorus of the song kicked in, you smiled.

“I love this song,” you said, turning to Jimin. “I almost choreographed my solo to it senior year.”

“Really?” Jimin glanced at you in surprise. “Same.”

“No way!” you laughed. “Wow – that would’ve been awkward. Imagine if we’d both had the same solo.”

“It would’ve made us even more competitive.”

“Not possible.”

“You’re probably right.” Jimin smiled. “We were really at each other’s throats for a while, weren’t we?”

“Yeah, we were.”

Settling back in your seat, you couldn’t help but frown.

Something about this statement bothered you, although you couldn’t put a finger on what. Maybe it was what Jimin had said yesterday about your mutual competition pushing each other forward. Maybe it had something to do with that night in Danley Hall, when Jimin stopped by and said he loved watching you dance.

If you really stopped and thought about it, Jimin was the sole constant in your dancing career. Every year, at every dance competition, you’d make sure you were available to watch Jimin’s solo. You told yourself this was because he was your competition but really, you just loved watching him dance.

You could remember the cool air of the theatre as you snuck in, sinking into a plush, velvet chair and hoping you wouldn’t be seen. You’d loved watching Jimin near the front, close enough to see his facial expressions but not close enough to be seen from the stage.

If your solos were close to one another in timing, you tended to watch Jimin from the wings. This had been a different kind of intimacy, hidden behind the first leg while you watched him dance. Lights dim, you recalled Jimin’s silhouette while he would walk to center. The opening notes of his music would sound, and you’d stifle a shiver while you watched him, entranced.

As it turned out, Jimin had been watching your solos as well, but you hadn’t known this for some time. Not until he’d told you the other night.

Suddenly, you turned in your seat. “You know I think you’re talented, right?” you blurted. “There was a reason I was always trying to beat you.”

Jimin’s brows shot up so high, they nearly met his hairline.

“I – uh, no,” he said. “You’ve never said that to me before. In fact, you kind of said the opposite. You told me the only reason I won was because I’m a guy.”

Hearing your words thrown back in your face, heat began to creep up your neck. 

“Listen, about that –”

“I’m kidding.” Jimin shot you a smile. “It’s fine, Y/N.”

“I – okay.”

“Look, I know men have an advantage in the dance world.” Returning his gaze to the road, Jimin’s smile disappeared. “I’m not dumb. I know we have higher centers of gravity, and all that. It’s just… you’re also talented, Y/N. People love to watch you dance, myself included. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Staring at him over the console, you felt oddly moved by this speech.

It was strange; many people in your life had called you talented. Your parents, your teachers and Finn, of course. Each of those compliments had meant something to you, but this one felt different. It felt different coming from Jimin – more important, somehow.

Maybe it was because you admired him most of all. The realization didn’t shock you as much as it probably should’ve.

“Thanks,” you said quietly.

Jimin nodded, continuing to scan the road. His car was clean, you realized as you glanced around. There were no water bottles on the floor, no napkins hastily stuffed into the glove compartment. The only sign of being lived-in was a keychain dangling over the dashboard; a small, plastic photo frame with two people inside.

“My parents,” Jimin explained, noticing where you looked.

“Oh,” you said, bending a bit closer. “They look nice.”

He laughed, unable to help it. “I’ve always thought so. My dad is the one who encouraged me to be a dancer, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Fondly, Jimin smiled. “He’s always loved music. When I was a baby, he loved to hold me and jump around the living room to songs on the radio. My mom has tons of videos of it.”

You smiled at the image. “That sounds adorable.”

“And embarrassing. My dad’s not that great a dancer.”

Without meaning to, you snorted.

Hearing this, Jimin’s smile widened. “When I started memorizing all the dances I saw on TV, my dad convinced my mom to put me in classes. Things kind of spiraled from there.”

“That’s nice,” you said, settling down in his seat. “My parents have always been my biggest supporters, too.”

Jimin nodded, about to respond but then a blast of AC hit you and you shivered. You’d nearly forgotten what you were wearing – or more accurately, what you weren’t wearing. The thin tank top you had on did little to hide the bare skin underneath.

Jimin’s gaze darted sideways. “Are you cold?” he asked, reaching out for the heat. “You can have my hoodie in the backseat, if you want.”

“Oh. No, that’s okay.” Hastily, you untied your cardigan from around your waist. “I have this,” you said, sliding both arms into the sleeves. “Completely forgot about it.”

Silently, Jimin nodded – and then his lips twitched.

“What?” you demanded.

“Nothing!” He shook his head, fighting to keep his face even. “It’s just… you wore a cardigan out to the club?”

Glancing down, you felt your cheeks begin to heat again. “Yes,” you said, somewhat defensive as you looked up. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing. It’s just, you know.” He paused. “My grandma has that sweater.”

“Well, your grandma sounds like a cool lady.”

“Without a doubt,” Jimin assured. “Not much of a clubber, though.”

Leaning your head to the window, you smiled. “That makes two of us then.”

You knew the city well enough by now to recognize you were only a few blocks from Grace Hall. Somehow, you found yourself not wanting the car ride to end. Talking to Jimin outside of dance practice was nice – even fun, you realized with some surprise.

It was a shame it’d taken you so long to recognize this.

“Seriously, though.” Jimin laughed. “Clubs can be a good time! There’s dancing, there’s music… rumor has it you like dancing.”

“Not that kind of dancing,” you sighed. “That kind of dancing is just a dry version of a lap dance for people who don’t know what to do with their hips.”

Jimin hid behind a smile. “Ouch, on behalf of your boyfriend.”

“Oh!” Straightening, you glanced at him in alarm. “That’s not – I didn’t mean…”

Stricken, you realized the obviousness of what you had said. Forget about your face heating, your entire body felt like an inferno. You had just told Jimin, in so many words, that Finn didn’t know what to do with his hips.

Jimin waved this admission aside. “Don’t worry about it, Y/N. I’ll forget what I heard the instant I get home. Up until tonight, I didn’t know the guy existed, right?”

“Right,” you agreed, settling back in your seat.

Rather than reassure you, this only gave you further pause.

It didn’t seem possible Jimin hadn’t known about Finn. Racking your brains, you tried to think of a time they would’ve crossed paths – only to come up short. Finn hadn’t ever stopped by the studio to pick you up, he hadn’t ever come to mutual hangouts with your Russet friends. Admittedly, Jimin had only recently started attending the same ones as you, but it still seemed unthinkable.

You and Finn had been dating for over two years. Finn’s name should have come up at some point and yet, it hadn’t.

Before you could respond, Jimin pulled to a stop outside your dorm. Glancing over the console, he smiled and again, you were struck by the image.

With his grey sweats, mussed hair and those glasses – you swallowed. It was a side of Jimin you hadn’t seen and something about the visual made your stomach lurch. Before you could launch into full-blown panic, Jimin raised a brow.

“Here you are,” he said with a grandiose wave. “Home sweet home.”

Glancing past him, you took in the steps of Grace Hall.

“Thanks,” you said, pushing open the door. Before exiting the car, you paused and looking over your shoulder. “Seriously, Jimin, thank you. I don’t know how I would’ve gotten home without you.”

In the darkness, you saw his expression soften.

“Anytime,” Jimin said.

You could tell he meant it. There was something to his gaze which made you nod. Jimin wasn’t the type to mince words or say things he didn’t mean. Just like when he said he loved your dancing, you knew Jimin was telling the truth. When he said anytime, he meant it.

Nodding, you resumed exiting the car. Waving goodbye, you stood on the curb until he was out of sight.

Once Jimin disappeared, you sighed and turned towards the building. Grace Hall was silent this late at night – it was nearly 2:00 AM and again, you were thankful Jimin had answered his phone. As you let yourself in and climbed the steps to your room, your thoughts began to race with all the what-ifs.

What-if Jimin hadn’t answered, what-if you’d had to walk home alone, or walk to find a cab. Pressing your eyes shut, you shooed these thoughts away. None of that had actually happened, so it wasn’t worth worrying about.

As soon as you got upstairs, you stepped in the shower – the stickiness of that girl’s drink continued to linger on your skin. After changing into fresh pajamas and brushing your teeth, you wearily climbed into bed. The last thing you did before falling asleep was call Finn again in case he’d returned home.

His phone went straight to voicemail though and, with a sinking stomach, you rolled over in bed and turned off the light.

After sleeping until the last possible moment, you managed to roll yourself out of bed around seven the next morning. This only left fifteen minutes before you needed to leave and even then, you felt like a zombie as you rushed out the door.

Grabbing coffee at the place down the street, you and Noelle entered class with barely ten minutes to spare. Jimin was already present but he was talking to Louis, so you stuck to your side and didn’t interrupt. You wanted to thank him again for his help, but all this flew out the window when a familiar woman followed Mr. Vlad into the classroom.

“Class.” Mr. Vlad set his things down by the window. “You remember Anna Hodelle, I presume – principal dancer at the New York City Ballet. She’s in town for a different master class and has graciously agreed to lead ballet this morning.”

The news was simultaneously exciting and nerve-wracking. Anna had taught a master class several weeks prior which left you sore for days following. Her classes were exciting though, and she was Anna Hodelle, one of the youngest principal dancers for the New York City Ballet in at least forty years – so there was that.

Her introduction didn’t require any response. Scrambling into place at the barre, the class waited while Anna shed her warm-ups and Mr. Vlad left the room. As soon as the music began, you found yourself grateful you hadn’t drunk the night prior.

Similar to her last master class, you found Miss Anna relentless in her pursuit of perfection. Her expectations were high and as a result, everyone gave their best effort – and then some. By the time you broke for water, no less than three students had already run for the bathroom.

It wasn’t pretty, but vomiting was something which happened with dance. Class could be such a grueling workout that occasionally, younger students pushed themselves past their limits. If you ate a big meal before practice, it was increasingly likely you might throw it up after.

You could count on two hands the number of times this had happened to you in high school. There had been some days you practiced so hard, sweat ran down your forehead and blinded your vision. On other days, the floor was so slippery, your bare feet couldn’t grasp the floorboards. Dance, despite being hailed for grace and glamour, tended to be exactly the opposite.

One of your teachers used to say you weren’t using your muscles if they weren’t shaking by the end. Ballerinas were seen as delicate, but this couldn’t be further from the truth. Ballet only looked effortless – this was a carefully cultivated image for the audience. At all times, all muscles in a ballerina’s body were engaged, yet even when sweat dripped down her brow, she had to smile.

You’d seen dancers finish their combination, give a sweeping bow, walk gracefully offstage and vomit into the nearest trash can. Everything was for show, everything was for the audience – one of your favorite parts about dance was knowing the brutal behind-the-scenes effort everything took. It made you appreciate the final product all the more.

By the end of class you were exhausted but happy, wiping sweat from your brow while you applauded the teacher. After Anna’s dismissal, you immediately exhaled and trudged towards your bag. Noelle chattered on about a TV show you were watching, reminding you to catch up before Monday.

As you picked up your bag, you felt its front pocket vibrate. Fishing inside for your phone, you pulled this out and felt your eyes widen.

Five missed calls and eight missed texts. Once you opened your phone, you saw they were all from Finn.

Finn: hey [8:18 AM]

Finn: Y/N, I’m so sorry [8:19 AM]

Finn: I don’t know if you’re ignoring me because you’re angry, or if you’re in class right now [8:25 AM]

Finn: you’re probably in class [8:30 AM]

Finn: if you’re not though, please call me back [8:31 AM]

Finn: fuck [9:01 AM]

Finn: I was such an ass last night, Y/N. I’m sorry [9:03 AM]

Finn: … please call me [9:35 AM]

With each text you read, you felt your heart sink. Up until this point, you’d gotten through class by pretending last night hadn’t happened. Now though, you were forced to remember every detail of the night prior.

Finn had left you at the club.

He’d stormed away from your fight, turned off his phone and left you alone. Each time you remembered the night, your fury only grew. This morning when you woke, you’d still been pissed off – even more so, when you turned on your phone and saw zero texts from Finn.

Had your roles been reversed, you never would’ve done the same to him. Sure, it had been a bad fight but who did that? Just took off in the middle of a conversation and shut everything down. The worst part was him turning off his phone. As soon as things didn’t go as planned, Finn simply washed his hands of you.

That was what hurt most of all, the shame burrowing deep into the crevices of your heart.

Beneath everything was a strange twinge of guilt at having called Jimin to pick you up. This was easily brushed aside, though – Finn had left you stranded. If anyone had a right to be mad here, it was you.

“Y/N? You okay?”

Noelle’s voice pulled you from your reverie. Blinking, you lowered your phone and realized you were alone. The rest of the room had cleared out after class – this probably wasn’t the first time Noelle had said your name.

“Shit, sorry!” Hastily, you shoved your phone in your bag. “Yeah… yeah, everything’s fine.”

Noelle gave you a look. “Really?”

After a moment, you sighed. “No,” you said, turning to walk towards the door. “Why pretend? It’s Finn.”

Following you from the classroom, Noelle fell into step alongside you.

“He’s not hurt, is he?” she said carefully.

“Unfortunately, not.”

Noelle snorted. “Okay, so he’s in the doghouse.”

“Yep.”

“Want to talk about it?”

At the top of the stairs, you paused. “Finn and I got in a fight last night,” you admitted. “He wanted to stay at the club, and I wanted to go home – so he told me to leave. I did, but then I realized I had no way to get there.”

Noelle’s mouth dropped. “Are you fucking kidding me? He just… left you there? Wow. The next time I see your ‘boyfriend,’ I’m going to – wait,” she said, pulling up short. “How did you get home, then?”

“I – uh, well… Jimin picked me up.”

Noelle stared at you a moment longer. “Huh. Didn’t expect that.”

“Neither did I,” you said, beginning to walk down the stairs. “Finn turned his cell phone off, so I couldn’t get ahold of him and by then, the trains stopped running. Uber was surging and Jimin is the only person I know with a car, so…”

“Ah, gotcha. That makes sense.” Noelle nodded. “Nice of him to come get you.”

“Yeah, it was nice. Anyways, Finn’s been texting me all morning.”

“Oh!” Noelle groaned. “That was your phone! I kept hearing something vibrating while I was waiting to go across the floor.”

“Yep, that was him,” you said glumly. “Apparently he’s sorry.”

“Of course, he is.”

“He said he was an ass last night.”

“Of course, he did.”

“… I’m still pissed at him.”

“Of course, you are!” Noelle cried, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Listen, tell him you got home alright – not that he deserves that much, mind you – but you need some time to cool off. He can wait until you’re ready to talk, right?”

Nodding, you saw sense in what she was saying. “You’re right.”

Despite Noelle making sense though, part of you didn’t want to wait.

Part of you wanted to call Finn back right now and give him a piece of your mind, but you knew if you did that, things wouldn’t end well. He deserved to be cussed out, but you were completely exhausted. The idea of fighting with your boyfriend left you feeling drained.

Noelle was right – Finn could wait until you were ready to talk, whenever that was.

Pulling out your phone a second time, you texted Finn you were safe and that you’d talk when you were ready. Once he responded okay, you shoved your phone in your pocket.

Noelle looked sympathetically on. “Why don’t we have a girl’s night?” she said, arm back around your shoulder. “We can invite Irene and Ari and just watch dumb movies and eat brownie batter in fancy lingerie. You know, like every guy’s sleepover porn fantasy.”

You couldn’t help it, you laughed. “Sounds like a plan,” you said with a grin. “God, what would I do without you?”

“Be super bored, probably.”

You snorted, but the thought stuck in your mind as you left the building. It really would be awful without Noelle by your side. Without meaning to, your thoughts strayed to Sabrina. Aside from Katie and Allison, you had no idea who she hung out with.

It had to be lonely for someone like her. Russet was intense enough without a support system. You quickly pushed these feelings aside – even if Sabrina was lonely, she had no one to blame but herself. You’d offered the olive branch enough times by now to know when to stop.

“I guess only one question remains,” you said slowly.

Noelle glanced your way. “Oh, yeah? What?”

“How dumb are the dumb movies we’re watching? Like, From Justin to Kelly dumb – where it’s a guilty pleasure? Or, more like The Kissing Booth dumb – where things are just bad dumb.”

“Why choose?” Noelle shrugged. “Let’s do both!”

“Deal!”

As you climbed the steps to Grace Hall, you continued to ignore Finn’s texts in your bag. He could wait until tomorrow, at least. After what he put you through, a single night of not knowing what you were thinking seemed appropriate.

When you finally gave in and called Finn the next day, you weren’t sure what you were hoping for. Finn had already texted his apology, so at least he knew he’d been in the wrong. As to what degree he was aware, you didn’t know, but you got a fairly good idea once he picked up the phone.

Short answer: very wrong.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” Finn blurted, as though afraid you might cut him off. “I was such an ass to you Friday night. I – I don’t even know what to say. I don’t even know where to start. I fucked up so bad, Y/N and I’m sorry.”

Silence followed this outburst as you frowned, leaning back on the bed.

Noelle had graciously left the room to study at the coffee shop on the corner. Secretly, you knew this was mostly to flirt with the barista, Namjoon, but you couldn’t begrudge her for that. Namjoon did have the most adorable dimples you’d ever seen.

Focusing your thoughts on Finn, you played with a stray thread of your sheets. “I mean… that’s a good start, I guess,” you muttered. “But what are you really sorry for, Finn?”

His sigh was soft. “Everything.”

“Specifics would be good.”

“I was drunk,” he exhaled. “That’s not an excuse, but… I honestly don’t remember everything that I said to you. I remember the gist of it though, and I know it was terrible. I know you didn’t deserve it.”

You remained silent, even though you agreed with him.

“I wanted to stay out,” he continued. “That doesn’t really matter, though. I was a dick. I was stubborn and angry, and I took that out on you. You’re the last person I would ever want to hurt, and I just… I left you. Something could’ve happened to you. God, if something had happened, Y/N…”

Finn trailed off and you heard his voice crack but forced yourself to stay silent. Hearing him break was hard, but you reminded yourself what you’d felt Friday night – all the anger and terror when he completely disappeared.

This memory hardened you enough not to melt at his apology.

“Yeah, well,” you said tightly. “You’re right – something could’ve happened. The trains weren’t running and Uber was crazy expensive. I couldn’t get back in the club. I ended up waiting outside for nearly twenty minutes before someone came to pick me up.”

“Fuck.” Finn sounded strangled. “Fuck… Y/N, I’m sorry…”

In your mind, you envisioned him shoving a hand through his hair. Finn did that when he was stressed or upset and right now, he sounded a little of both.

“Yeah.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Who picked you up?”

Immediately, you stiffened. “Do you seriously think you deserve an answer to that?”

“No, no, I – you’re right, it doesn’t matter. Thank them for me, okay?”

You remained silent and again, Finn sighed.

“Are you… are we going to be okay?”

It was a loaded question. Closing your eyes, you leaned your head to the wall. In all honesty, you didn’t know the answer to that.

On the one hand, you loved Finn. That hadn’t changed. On the other hand, it was becoming more and more apparent your problems weren’t going away. It would be foolish to pretend otherwise – but all couples had problems, didn’t they?

In the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but think a break-up should be more obvious than this. A break-up should be something big, something irreversible. You were beginning to wonder though, at what point were problems considered insurmountable. Everything about this seemed grey and right now, you really needed black and white answers.

Both your lives were changing, as Jimin had said. Freshman year was a cacophony of change; in order to succeed, you and Finn needed to learn to grow with each other. Hiccups were to be expected, bumps in the road were to be expected, but if you wanted to stay together, you needed to learn how to fight for this relationship.

“I think so,” you said, opening your eyes. “I think we’ll be okay. I just… Finn, you really hurt me that night.”

“I know.”

“It can’t happen again.”

“It won’t.”

“You know… I want to spend time with you, right?”

“I… do.”

He paused for longer than you would’ve liked, but you brushed past it. “I know you like going to clubs and all that,” you said. “But that’s not really me. Maybe next time we can do something different. Something a little more low-key.”

“Yeah.” Finn chuckled. “That sounds nice, honestly.”

“Good.”

“At least my friends really liked you.”

Taken aback, you snorted. “Oh, come on, Finn. I was barely there.”

“I’m being serious! Ben told me he thinks you’re funny.”

“Ben,” you groaned. “Has all the humor of a wet sock.”

Finn laughed and this time, it sounded like him. His laugh had been watery before, a restrained version but now, his true mirth broke free. As soon as the sound hit your ears, you began to relax. Truthfully, you hadn’t been sure things would be okay until then. Hearing him laugh, you knew Finn meant it. He wanted this, too.

“You’re right,” he agreed. “Ben sucks, but at least he has the taste to know that you don’t. Next time, we’ll do something more fun.”

“Next time,” you agreed.

“Next time.”

Despite your conversation having gone as well as it possibly could’ve, uncertainty continued to linger in the back of your mind.

You spent Sunday evening watching TV, but still slept restlessly before your class the next morning. Mr. Vlad’s ballet was definitely not one you wanted to arrive at ill-rested, but Monday you showed up with bags under your eyes.

You tried to push all negative thoughts from mind while warming up at the barre. By the time class broke for water, you were feeling marginally better. Ballet was soothing that way. The repetitiveness of barre helped to put things in perspective. Your ankle had almost completely healed by this point and now, two weeks after the fall, your technique had finally begun to improve.

No longer were you the last one to catch onto combinations and Mr. Vlad only yelled once about your turnout at barre. This was a marked improvement from the start of the year and although you still were far from the top, you felt relatively good about your standing. You had a feeling once you and Jimin began to practice, the moves would come even easier.

The first combination at center was a slow adagio. It wasn’t particularly difficult aside from a lift in the middle, but despite the familiarity of the moves, Jimin was being oddly hesitant.

Mr. Vlad showed the combination with his dance assistant, Mina. After they demonstrated a particularly difficult lift, they gave everyone time to practice – which, in your and Jimin’s case, turned out to be necessary.

“Ladies, pique to arabesque!” Mr. Vlad called from the front. “Lift your leg higher and – the man lifts! He walks you in a promenade. Then you’re lowered, exhale – and bourrée!”

Brian immediately raised his hand for help, so Mr. Vlad left to assist in his corner. The lift was proving itself to be tricky – it required most of your weight balanced against Jimin’s side while he gripped your thigh, lifting you up.

You and Jimin began to practice, but no matter what you did, nothing seemed to be working. After the fourth failed attempt where Jimin nearly dropped you on your ass, you shakily landed and whirled around.

“Alright,” you said, both hands on your hips. “What’s going on?”

Jimin’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, how’re you supposed to lift me if you’re barely touching me? Look at Sabrina and Paulo!” you said, gesturing in their direction. “He’s got his whole fucking hand under her leg!”

Jimin’s cheeks turned red. “I – uh, right. Yeah. Let’s try it again.”

Staring at him another moment, you nodded and returned to your spot. Jimin settled into fifth position, jaw clenched and looking as though he were in pain. You stared at him in the mirror, considering calling him out before thinking better of it.

Taking a deep breath, you piqued into arabesque. Leaning your weight to Jimin, he reached again for your thigh – only to falter, leaving you hanging.

“Jimin!” you half-laughed as you slipped down his leg.

“I’m sorry!” Jimin blurted, stepping away. Looking thoroughly distraught, he shoved both hands through his hair. “It’s just… well, I…”

“It’s just what?”

“You have a boyfriend,” he said, a bit pained.

In response to this, both your eyebrows shot up. That had not been the answer you’d expected.

“I… okay?” you said, failing to grasp the point. “So what?”

“So.” Jimin glanced furtively around. “I don’t know, it’s just weird! I don’t want to… overstep my boundaries, or anything.”

“But…” You stared. “I had a boyfriend last week and it wasn’t a problem.”

“Okay, but last week I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”

Again, you looked at him as though he was crazy.

“This is stupid,” you said, stepping closer. “Ballet is our job, Jimin. It’s the least sexy occupation on the planet. Right now, I’m bleeding from three different blisters inside my pointe shoes. I’m sure my deodorant has long worn off by now. Would you just fucking get over yourself and grab my thigh?”

Jimin’s upper lip twitched. “Well. When you put it like that.”

“I am putting it like that,” you said with a grin. “Now, let’s go again.”

Nodding, Jimin followed when you walked backwards. Taking another deep breath, you piqued to arabesque and this time, Jimin didn’t flinch when your weight transitioned to his. Hand sliding beneath your thigh, he lifted you easily into a promenade.

As soon as you turned your head, you caught Jimin’s gaze and felt – something.

Something other than the white noise of the room. Something other than the thud-thud of your heart, other than the music on the stereo and Mr. Vlad yelling counts from the corner.

Despite what you had just finished saying, something unknown seemed to bloom in your chest. In the middle of the lift – blood blisters and all – you felt an errant spark where Jimin’s front pressed to yours.

You barely had time to recognize this before the moment was gone. Slowing his walk, Jimin set you back down – and you wobbled. 

This time it had nothing to do with his technique.

“Ah, shit.” Jimin frowned. “That’s my bad – I can do better! Let’s try it again.”

Nodding, you felt a bit wooden as you followed in his footsteps. When Mr. Vlad started the music, you fought the surging tide of emotions threatening to overwhelm. It had been nothing, you told yourself. Nothing of importance, anyways.

Shoving whatever you’d felt in a box, you pushed this to a corner of your mind and firmly shut the door. Forcing a smile to your lips, you lifted your chin as you began the combination.

It was lucky everyone else found you a talented performer, since beneath all your smiling, all you could think about was what was hidden in the box.

Something unknown, something tentative – and something which could be dangerous, if it ever came to light.

Author’s Note: I was so close to re-writing this chapter with Mr. Vlad picking her up LOL just kidding, but thank you for reading! 😊 New chapters of Raise the Barre are posted weekly; dates are listed on the series Master List. Requests for updates will be deleted.

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST 

© kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission. 

[burnedbyshoto]

quirk mastery

— In which Mirio gets his quirk back and he’s desperate to show you just how well he’s remastered permeation.

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pairing: togata mirio x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, cursing, pwp-ish, semi-public sex, clothed sex, anal, size difference, finger sucking, fingering

word count: 4,021

a/n: day three of kinktober and here we be!!! this was based on the concept of mirio being the perfect candidate for have clothed penetrative sex LMAOOO. make sure to comment (even if its a simple emoji) on any fics you like, authors super appreciate it.

main kink: anal

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To be quite honest, you never thought Mirio was going to get his quirk back.

You remember when it happened in high school.

The cold fall morning as you had woken up earlier than usual for a school day, deciding that maybe you should get a cup of tea given that it had been cold and something just felt off.

Nearly three years ago, when you had arrived through the doors of UA as a hero student, you had taken your seat in class 1-B, and almost immediately, your class became your family. Everyone was so talented, lively, and brimming with their own excitement of being here, but one person always just seemed to be brighter than the rest.

His smile captivated the first moment he looked at you, his blue eyes so precise and accurate you knew immediately he was someone to trust. 

His name was Togata Mirio, and true to his sunshine hair, his own sunshine personality allowed the entire class to address him by his first name within hours of meeting him. It was no surprise that you felt your heart skip a beat when he placed a strong arm around your shoulder later in the year because you had fallen for your classmate.

As a third-year, you still harbored deep feelings for your classmate and now best friend. But you knew better than to enact on them at the moment. You were busy with your hero work, and his latest work-study with the former All Might’s sidekick kept him busy nearly every day.

He would still be there once you graduated, you always liked to remind yourself. But as energetic as Mirio was, he definitely was not an early riser. So it shocked you that as you reached the dorm's kitchen area, he was standing there quiet and fully dressed in his school uniform. His eyes were concentrated on his phone, and his face was serious, for a moment, the off feeling you had seemed to make sense as you stared at his solemn face.

“Mirio?” you had called out, suddenly feeling a bit underdressed in your pajamas, and you held onto your elbow as you stared at your flirt of a classmate. “You okay? We still have an hour and a half before classes start.”

It seemed that he had not even heard you enter the room based on how he startled just the bit before turning his gaze towards you. 

Blue eyes murky with regret and guilt. You hated that they weren't clear, and you always hoped they would be cleared soon.

“I’ve got my work-study today,” Mirio answers with a soft smile that doesn’t clear his eyes. “Something came up, so I'll be gone for the morning. We’ll probably be back before classes end today.”

You nod your head, already knowing who belonged within that we.

“Are you doing okay? You’ve been looking a bit… uh, worse for wear, and I don’t want you getting hurt because you’re distracted by other things,” you admit, venturing further into the kitchen so that you leaned against the opposite side of the counter of where Mirio stood. 

The smile on his face grows just a bit, a small spark dazzling in his clear blue eyes before he shakes his head good-naturally.

“You admitting you care about me?”

“Have I ever denied it?”

Mirio laughs softly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck before a heavy sigh passes his lips, “I guess not.”

You keep the frown off your face at those words, his inability to flirt back slightly concerning, but you stop before you can frown. By the front door of the dorms is none other than Tamaki and Nejire from class 1-A, two other close friends of yours, and equally involved in this case of theirs that they all refuse to tell you about. Guess that’s what happens when you join Edgeshot’s agency.

Mirio follows your gaze and motions to your friends that he’ll be joining them in just a moment before he turns back to you.

“Well, looks like it’s time,” Mirio speaks with finality, his shoulders as stiff as his smile, and your heart aches just the slightest bit.

“Be careful, Mirio,” you say firmly, your eyes locked on his that have become emotionless. That pit in your stomach is unignorable as you speak up on your concerns. “I know you’re strong, but please be careful.”

Mirio stills for a moment before he nods, and he walks around the counter. His arms stretching out, pulling you into a tight hug that you more than willingly return. It seems like the two of you stand there hugging each other for centuries before Mirio makes a soft noise in an unwilling attempt to tell you to let go.

“I know, I know,” you sigh, pulling away, your eyes meeting his for the millionth time. “You’ve To-gata go now.”

And for the first time in weeks, his blue eyes clear up, and a proper genuine laugh breaks through his lips as he shakes his head, already walking away. 

“You’re pretty amazing, y/n-chan!” he shouts as he opens the front door, and you can hear Nejire calling her hellos to you. “I’ll be back before you can even blink!”

“You better!” you call out, waving at your three friends who bunch up and walk off.

As you watch their retreating backs, the pit in your stomach remains as you whisper softly: please.

It’s within twenty-four hours that you find out the case they were working, and you feel sick when Mirio doesn’t return, confirming to you that he was the one to have lost his quirk that day. When Mirio returns two days later, it’s not with good news as he admits to you that he’ll be leaving UA now that his quirk is gone.

His eyes are clear again, not at all like he was two days ago as the two of you seem to only be talking to one another within the crowd of both class 3-A and 3-B. It’s later once everyone is gone that he admits that a young girl who was responsible for his quirks erasure could potentially bring it back, but it’s unknown at the moment.

You remember holding his cheeks and promised him that even if it doesn’t come back, he would always be a hero who, in the end, did what he set out to do, saving a million people. It was almost shocking to you as you watched for the first time since his teacher died in front of him, Mirio crying yet again, his face buried into the crook of your neck.

But that was five years ago.

Five long years of being a Pro Hero in a society that no longer looked the same.

Three years of finally being able to call Mirio your boyfriend.

One year of organizing the current hero gala, the two of you are attending right now.

One month of Mirio finally regaining his quirk.

In a heavily watched attempt, Eri-chan, who had been able to figure out a way to train her quirk. It was all due to the help of a young yet brilliant support engineer, Hatsumi Mei, without having to interact with real soul-having things. It took almost ten hours, but the young girl was both resilient and determined as you watched as she sat with her fingers pressed to Mirio’s cheeks and a warm yellow glow surrounded her. 

The shriek that ripped through you when Mirio suddenly fell through the floor, your initial fear of Eri completely rewinding him from existence flaring in your chest, and undoubtedly hers as she gasped in horror. You watched his clothes dropping from where he once sat, and then you could hear the familiar, distant sound of Mirio being rejected by matter, and you bolted at Eri. It was a frantic team effort response to make sure Eri would not see him in his naked glory when he resurfaced, and that memory still sent you in a round of uproarious laughter.

But a Heroes Gala was something that was occurring recently, and it wasn’t quite what it had once been before. Pro Heroes were not recognized within these events; instead, the common man was, and more importantly, helping those deemed as outcasts within society. With the reign of AFO gone, and the destruction of what the heroism did to society, it had been a weird shift in energy, but a needed one.

Pro Heroes Deku and Ground Zero being the trailblazers on that front, pushing to look at the reasons the world deemed villains as so, and doing their best to fix it at the source. 

It definitely wasn’t perfect, far from it actually, but these galas helped to keep energies high on many different fronts.

Speaking of high energy, if your face was able to emit heat energy similar to that of a sun, right now, you would be a supernova.

Located in some hallway in the back of the event, you sat on a marble table. Your legs somehow wrapped around Mirio’s waist, arms thrown around his neck, pressing his gliding lips even closer to you as he enthusiastically, carefully, and completely dominated your lips. To the rest of the world, it just seemed like the two of you were simply indulging into your horny twenty-three-year-old needs. There was nothing conspicuous about what you both were doing, not if your clothed states had anything to say about it.

But that was just the thing.

Like a wolf in sheep's clothing, the large, voluminous skirt of your evening gown easily covered Mirio’s powerful, thrusting hips, blanketing his ulterior motives with fabric from the rare eye that managed to come and look at the both of you.

Maybe if they had x-ray vision, they would know the truth; they could see it too.

For not even five minutes ago, you had teasingly whispered just how hot Mirio looked in his get-up. Your teeth nibbling on his earlobe about how excited you were that when you two would inevitably get home, his clothes would be gone in a matter of seconds. It seemed that your boyfriend wanted to jump the gun and just show you what both of you had been missing these past three years.

You could barely keep up with his quick, long strides. Your heels caught onto the length of your gown multiple times until he had brought you into this hallway and picked you up without so much of a grunt and planted your bottom on the exceptionally sturdy table. It still hadn’t hit you just what he had intended to do when his lips crashed against yours, and the world exploded into white static as he kissed you, consuming your mouth with every fiber of his being.

A gentle moan left your mouth when his tongue entered your mouth, but the prominent, hard bulge pressing between you and the many, many layers of fabric made you yelp. You pulled away from his lips, your eyes, wide, impossibly frantic.

“Togata Mirio!” you hissed in shock, your hand slapping across your mouth as you simply stared at your lover who was smiling at you brightly.

The smile and the clear blue of his eyes let nothing indicate just how fucking hard he was and how much he craved your cunt around his cock just as you had teased him about earlier. 

“What is it, sunflower?” Mirio asks, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face. Your spine stiffens up as he leans in close, his mouth pressing against yours for a small, seemingly chaste kiss before he presses the corner of his mouth to your ear. “I think I’m having some issues with my quirk control, and I think this is the perfect way to practice the uh… fine-tuning of my quirk. Right?”

“Mirio…” you warn as he softly begins to grind against you, his large hand shifting from your shoulder blades down to your lower back. The pressure of his hand provided such numbing heat to blaze through your core, and it only added to the feeling of his cock against your slowly seeping cunt.

“Dontcha want to help me practice?” Mirio asks, his teeth biting onto your earlobe, and a wanton moan reverberates from your chest at the feeling. “Help me master my quirk again?”

You’re not sure what makes you cave, what makes you say fuck it under your breathe. It could have been the heat of his breath on your ear, the way he kissed down your jaw, the clear blue of his eyes glazing over darkly with lust, and maybe it was the way you could manage to feel his cock through the miles of fabric between the two of you. It didn’t matter now anyway, it couldn’t because you turned towards his face, your lips desperately seeking his, and thankfully Mirio met you there immediately.

Hot desperate mouths clashing together, tongues meeting in the middle, and you could feel his hands shoving you towards him until there was no space between your meeting hips if you ignored the dress and his pants. 

Your hazed over mind chanted to be ready for anything, to be prepared for the feeling of his cock against your already soaked cunt, and to not be surprised. Nevertheless, when you felt the hot, heavy, and stupidly thick head of Mirio’s cock pressing between your desperately needy folds, going against all of your brain's logic of how this shouldn’t be possible with your panties still on. 

“M-Mirio!” you cried, head knocked back at the feeling of his cock pressing through your tight, clenching hole. His cock thick, veiny, and hot, even in your inner walls as he kisses you. You couldn’t focus on him, your mouth agape and lax, his lips pressing against your teeth, tongue curling on the roof of your tongue, and you wantonly moaned as he shifted outwards and slammed right back into you.

For the past three minutes, the two of you had begun this desperate, needy, over your clothes public fuck. Your hands feeling so small, pressed onto his back. Your mouth biting into his neck as he slammed into you over and over again. 

The heat in your stomach was throbbing, the soft thrumming of your orgasm about to tip as Mirio claimed you like this.

“So cute like this, baby,” he laughed as if his cock wasn’t stretching you out despite all your clothes still being on. You felt his cock head press up against your cervix, and a loud pathetic whine stumbled out of your lips. “Did you like that? Finally, got to that little spot you like despite this angle?”

He hit it again, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, all noises that so desperately wanted to be heard getting cut off. 

“Look at you! You’re so cute like this, sunflower! You can’t even look at me, and you’re babbling! I think I’m doing great… job… at this, fuck, quirk control…”

Your eyes flutter shut, a gasping, needy breath expelling into his mouth as he kisses you greedily, and the heat grows exponentially when his hand permeates through your dress to pinch and pull at your clit. You’re so close, so deliriously near that, you begin to seize up, your walls fluttering with the actions that you know mean that you’re about to nosedive off a cliff into orgasmic bliss.

But there were always issues with having sex in public with a man who could not shut up.

“Togata-senpai, Y/l/n-senpai!” A voice yells at the two of you. Even with the thrumming warmth of your pre-orgasm, the voice washes coldly over you. Rippling the start of orgasmic bliss right from beneath your feet as you snap your head away from Mirio.

A loud, choked gasp escapes you when for a split second, his cock disappears from your clenching, denied cunt in an experience you could not begin to explain.

“Iida-kun!” Mirio exclaimed jovially as if the two of you weren’t at all fucking moments before, but as he did so, he seemed to deactivate his quirk on his cock.

“What are the two of you doing here! It is quite preposterous for the two of you to be… canoodling within the gala when we are all awaiting your presence!” Iida exclaims, his hands cutting and chopping at the air as he seems to frown at the both of you.

But you were busy with other thoughts.

With his cock completely solid back inside of you, tears were leaking from your eyes as white, hot pain erupted in your stomach and curled all the way down into your toes.

Mirio returned his cock into your ass, and the lack of any warning due to his quirk nearly had you throwing up in this new sensation. Your fingers curled roughly into Mirio’s shoulders, your ragged breathing “I’m-in-so-much-pain” breathes alerting both of the men before you who turned their attention to you.

“Are you okay, sunflower?” Mirio asked, his voice filled with genuine concern as he brushed a tear that managed to streak down your cheek. “What’s going on?”

“Yes, what is going on? What can I get for you, Y/l/n-senpai?”

“It h-hurts!” you cry, eyes locking onto Mirio’s, who seemed to gather just what was going on as his eyes grow with worry and also knowing actions. 

He shifted slightly, and his cock that was already so big moved within your ass, and you balked. You leaned forward onto Mirio’s chest, feeling absolutely dwarfed by your boyfriend as you held onto him with trembling arms and soft groans of pain and growing, intense pleasure.

“Ah, Iida-kun, would you mind if you could possibly give us some room? I promise we’ll join the gala in less than ten minutes?”

You can’t even see Iida’s reaction given that your eyes are leaking with your tears and the fact that you can’t even raise your head to look at your old younger-classmen. 

“Of course, I’ll leave y/l/n-senpai to you, but if anything happens, please come and get me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you!”

Your sniffling doesn’t seem to stop as Iida’s loud footsteps confirms his exit, but Mirio’s mouth is by your ear again, his hips taking a tentative, shallow thrust that sends you whining like a bitch in heat. Anal was something that Mirio loved to do. He always confessed to you each and every time as his cock would line up to your muscled rim that there was just something indescribably hot about you taking his cock that way.

Mirio was a big dude with a bigger cock, and you usually could, in fact, handle — thoroughly enjoy —  anal with the proper steps to lead into it, but this was a cock appearing in your ass without warning or knowing of it happening. You could feel your tears streaming down your neck, but bubbling moans of pleasure had already started again. The pain of the surprise was already wearing off by the time Iida had disappeared, and Mirio was once again shifting his hips for your best pleasure.

“God, I can’t believe you took my cock in your ass that calmly,” Mirio whispers in pure admiration, his hips taking longer, deeper strokes into you. “That was so fucking hot, I’m sorry I lost control like that.”

“S-Shut up…” you gasped, hands fisting into his coat as you tried to ride out the waves of pain instead. “Fuck m-me already.”

The laugh that seems to grow right from Mirio’s stomach makes your skin crawl as he nods his head, his hands grabbing your chin to stir you into a kiss as he begins to thrust into your asshole with much more daring conviction.

“I always forget how much you like this!” he sighs against your lips. “Always so ready for my cock no matter where it is.”

You whimper loudly, teeth burying into your lower lip, the slick from your cunt slowly gliding down to his cock, allowing for partial lubing. 

In and out, he moves, his hips moving faster than a manageable speed. Even without him being a hero, Mirio had kept himself in pique condition, and moments like this proved it. His fast rutting and delirious power into every slam of his cock into your ass was commanding and revolutionary. Your eyes welled with tears at the constipated feeling in your asshole, your mouth pressing back into his neck, sobbing his name. His fingers dive down and permeate through your dress and panties, and you swear you’re drooling when his calloused, hot fingers tweak and pull at your clit, savagely teasing it. 

Mirio laughs softly at the way you’re trying to hide your cries of pleasure. How you’re burying your head into his shoulder, teeth biting into his clothed skin. His thrusting movements became quicker, harder, and more consistent until a familiar sensation of his balls slapping your skin burned your mind. 

He was—

Holy shit—

He was making sure you could feel his once concealed balls against your skin and the warbled, shameless scream that he interrupted by shoving his fingers in your mouth.

“More,” you beg around his fingers, staring straight up at him. Your saliva coating his fingers, lips sucking around his fingers in hopes that he’ll heed your command. “Fuck my asshole harder.”

Mirio merely groans the pinch on your clit, making your hips buck awkwardly and pathetically against his cock and balls because of the table. And he began to barbarically slam into you so that the soft thudding of the counter hitting the wall shudders down your spine. 

Your body shifts with his every movement, the counter rocking with the force, your slick pouring from your cunt, and he let go of your tongue. In your crazed state, you sob at the loss of contact, but his hand that had been playing and teasing your clit shifts so that his thumb resides on your clit, and three of his fingers curl into your throbbing, orgasm denied cunt. The force alone nearly sends your eyes flying open, your vision still blurred with tears when his fingers drag against your puffy walls that you knew would let you squirt if he manipulated it just enough.

His fingers work at double the speed of which his hips slam into you. His fingers pushing the limits of your heat radiating walls, dragging them deliciously against your clenching heat. Then there was his cock, and at times the thin walls that separated his fingers and his cock brushed together, sending you into a new frenzy while you sobbed his name.

Begging for more, pleading to make you come.

“You needa come, sunflower?” Mirio huffs, his sweaty forehead pressing against yours, and you moaned loudly, knowing that he was also close. “Then come for me. Come against my cock and my fingers!”

“I-It feels so fucking good, so good baby,” you garble. Your jaw is unable to move for its slack against his shoulder. Your cooes only adding to the electrifying pleasure singing through your nerves, and with a loud squelch from your pussy, you come hard against his fingers, your ass instinctively tightening up at well.

You could feel the more foreign sensation of wet heat fill your ass as Mirio collapses against you, his heart hammering in his chest as the two of you just sit there. Your hands shifting to thread into his soft, fluffy hair as his limp cock disappears from within you, and you groan at the loss of feeling.

“Gross…” you mumble as Mirio stands straight up again after some time.

“Wha—”

“You came in my ass,” you sigh, although not at all displeased with it.

“Oh, sorry! I got a bit overexcited!”

It takes an additional three minutes for you to be willing to move to return to the event, but as you do, Mirio has an arm around your waist, readying to keep you upright all night if needed.

“Ne, Mirio?” you call as the both of you return to the main stage.

“Hm?”

“I think you’ve pretty much mastered your quirk again!”

[ilydenji]

Please do a pt 2 of toxic traits that had kenma, kageyama, and Tsukishima. Please make it fluff in the end🥺. I loved it

❝toxic pt. 2❞

↳haikyuu boys toxic traits part two

characters: kenma kozume, kageyama tobio, tsukishima kei

warnings/tw: toxic relationships

a/n: I'm so glad you loved the first one !! I hope this is good enough afndjsmsj

(this kinda long sorry lmfoaodjrnf)

part one here

kenma ;

-its been a few weeks since the two of you had talked properly.

-you did what he wanted, you had broken up with him.

-it felt weird going back to your regular life as if nothing had happened. as if you didn't spend half a year with him.

-it did hurt when you realized he didn't even care. that day when you walked away from him, you doubted that he gave it a second thought.

-but, unknowingly, the whole situation was slowly eating kenma up with guilt.

-after your breakup, he briefly had talked about it with kuroo and that’s when he realized how much of an asshole he really was.

-he missed it when you watched him practice, apparently, the other members of his team did too.

-“where’s y/n? are they okay?” lev would ask the most.

-“they broke up idiot- if you’re wondering how they are ask them yourself” of course, yaku would hit him for even mentioning them.

-up until now, kenma never noticed the little things that you did for him. how you would praise his hard work after practice or a game.

-how you would softly comb your fingers through his hair while playing games. or how you would bring him lunch every day in case he forgot to eat.

-not only that, but he started missing the little things about you as well.

-how your nose would scrunch up when you laughed,

-when you would hold his hand, you’d always rub circles on his thumb.

-how you would hum when playing with his hair.

-all those things, why hasn’t he realized them before? why did he let you go?

-why did he hurt you so bad?

-he wanted to— no, he needed to apologize to you.

-he wanted to be with you again, though he didn’t really think he deserved you anymore.

-he wanted to try anyway.

-you received a text from him in the afternoon. you were hesitant to answer. what could he be asking for? his hoodie that he left a month ago?

-when you finally decided to answer it, it read-

-“Can I please talk to you.”

-he wanted to talk now? he had a chance weeks ago. months even.

-you just sighed and texted back saying yes. he asked if he could come over and you agreed, maybe things would end off on a better note? you’d be lying if you said you didn't miss him.

-when kenma came over, he looked different than how he usually did. he didn't have his psp and he didn't use his phone once.

-he slowly walked to your bed and motioned you to sit next to him.

-“I’ve been a big fucking asshole to you, y/n. I'm so sorry I treated you like that.” he would start.

-he ended up apologizing for everything and told you he never realized how much care relationships need.

-“you deserve so much better. it’s selfish of me to even consider the fact you’d take me back but. I missed you a lot, I'm so sorry for hurting you.”

-you wanted to be with him again, to hold him and tell him it’s alright.

-instead, you rest your hand on his shoulder with a squeeze.

-“it's okay, it’s fine. I messed up along the way as well.” you’d start. kenma kept the same stoic expression he usually had. but you can tell in his eyes, he was hopeful.

-“but maybe we don’t belong in a relationship. maybe not yet at least.”

-kenma understood what you meant.

-in the end, the two of you had agreed that to ever get back into a relationship again he had to work on letting himself be vulnerable around you.

-he had promised to be better for you, and wait until you were ready to be with him again. although you had promised to be with him sometime in the future, the pang in his chest didn't fully go away.

-the day ended with him in your arms, comforting him.

-his arms were wrapped around you, his head in the crook of your neck.

-“kenma, I still love you. you know that right?”

-kenma didn't exactly answer. instead, he pulled you closer to him. you could feel his smile against your neck.

-you both still loved each other but decided to take it slow this time. not wanting to hurt each other.

kageyama ;

(reader is into photography bc that's the only thing I could think of I'm sorry lfmsoakedjdnsn)

-it’s been a few days since his last game, where he basically told you that you “clearly didn’t love him”

-in those few days, kageyama couldn’t explain what he was feeling.

-he always had trouble expressing his emotions. so he often ignored them.

-but this time, there was a pit in his stomach that just wouldn’t go away. whenever he looked at his phone he would be tempted to call you.

-he wasn’t so sure if that was a good idea, but the silence was killing him.

-one day during practice he had asked hinata if he had seen you.

-hinata nodded and told him you were out in the courtyard doing club activities.

-kageyama didn't know you were in a club? though, he hardly payed any attention to that stuff.

-he wondered how he could be so clueless, you two have been together for months.

-that day, he skipped practice. that on its own was a whole different story.

-he managed to find you outside, taking pictures of the flowers and anything remotely interesting you could find.

-but no matter how mundane, kageyama didn't fail to notice the smile you had.

-he recognized that look in your eye, that was the look he had whenever it came to volleyball. how could he have not realized how happy your little hobby made you?

-he wanted you to be happy, to see you smile with so much passion like that.

-kageyama approached you cautiously, trying not to scare you.

-“what do you want kageyama?” you started. it startled him a little.

-you didn't need to turn around for you to know he was there. hinata had texted you that kageyama was coming, of course.

-“Nothing... I just.. missed you I guess” he sat down next to you. neither of you had talked, it became awkward fast.

-“so... you like photography? I didn’t know”

-“of course you wouldn't.”

-kageyama cringed at the words. you weren’t wrong in the slightest, he had been ignoring your interests for the longest and he feels like such an ass for it.

-“I'm sorry for not paying attention” he stated. you nodded at his words. but that wasn’t enough for him.

-“I should’ve payed more attention to you, it’s my fault I got so caught up in my own head” still, you didn’t say anything but you did turn your attention to him. progress he thought.

-“I should’ve realized that this, is just as important to you as volleyball is to me.” he rested his hand on top of yours. in return, you squeezed his a little. he smiled softly.

-“I’ll give you more of my attention from now on. okay? I'm sorry y/n. I love you, I really do.” he finished. and that’s what you wanted to hear.

-you wanted him to acknowledge his wrongs and apologize. you knew kageyama struggled with his emotions sometimes but he would eventually come around.

-you rested your head on his shoulder.

-“did you really skip practice for me?”

-“of course I did”

-by the end of the day, kageyama had learned that relationships aren’t just a one-sided thing. that you cant constantly be supporting him without him supporting you.

-he promised to you that no matter what it is that you would do, he would be right by your side cheering you on.

tsukishima ;

-the days had turned to weeks, and tsukishima was barely paying any attention to you. after your little fight, it was clear that he wouldn’t say a word until you said something first.

-but you were scared to.

-how could you not be? his teasing crushed your self-esteem.

-you would notice things about yourself that you never saw before. picking at your skin for the tiniest imperfections.

-or even trying to change your appearance in any way you could to seem different, but in the end, tsukishima didn't pay attention.

-but someone else did, yamaguchi. he was close to tsukishima and knew what was going on.

-he was the first one to comfort you after your fight with your boyfriend. he promised to you that the things he said weren’t true and he never meant it.

-yamaguchi was slowly replacing tsukishima as the days went by. still, the two of you remained friends.

-“I think you should talk to him, y/n. he misses you I know it” he told you one day. he was on his way to practice and asked you to come with.

-you didn't know if that was really true but you decided to put your trust into him.

-instead of going into the gym yourself, you waited for practice to end nearby. you didn't want to be a distraction.

-when practice did end, tsukishima and yamaguchi ended up being the first ones to come out. yamaguchi was smiling as he yelled out for you. tsukishima stayed silent.

-walking towards the two made your anxiety rise. it was nerve-wracking honestly.

-the three of you ended up walking to the gate before yamaguchi told you that he had somewhere to go first and he’d meet you two later.

-after that, it was just the two of you. you noticed how although his house was in the opposite direction, he still walked with you. you smiled a little at that.

-“So what’s up with you and yamaguchi?” he said bluntly. the abrupt interaction kinda scared you a little.

-“Nothing, we’re just friends. why?”

-“nothing. I just don't like seeing you all friendly with him.”

-“Are you jealous?”

-“I guess so”

-his words were so blunt it left you confused.

-you asked him how he could say something like that when he’s been ignoring you for days. and not only that but just straight-up bully you.

-tsukishima stayed silent at that. he had stopped walking at this point, and so had you.

-“listen. I'm sorry for saying those things to you, I was just stressed and took that out on you. I never meant to hurt you y/n, I mean it” you knew tsukishima wasn't the type to talk so openly about how he felt.

-he probably meant it.

-it doesn’t take away the fact that it hurt you. you told him what his words had done to you, that you had tried to change yourself for his approval.

-at this, tsukishima brought you into a hug. he held you close to him, softly petting your hair.

-“I'm sorry y/n, I’m sorry for taking it too far, for making you think so low of yourself. I promise you I never thought those things about you, I was just mad. I should’ve never taken it out on you.”

-at this point, you didn't know if you should be happy about it or cry.

-“it hurt tsukki.” was all you said to him.

-“I know. I'm so sorry y/n, I understand if you cant forgive me.” he pulled away from you to move your hair away from your face, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead.

-“I understand that I’ve hurt you. you don't need to forgive me. but please know that I love you so much.”

-afterward, tsukki ended up walking you home, holding your hand the rest of the way.

-he knows things might not go back to being the same, but he’s willing to work on letting you past his walls, being nicer towards those he loves, you especially.

-you know old habits die hard and that relationships aren’t always easy. but this was a journey you both were willing to take. both learning from each other to make sure this never happens again.

——-

I'm really hoping this is okay uh- I tried to make this as wholesome as I could but continuing the theme from last time. I might have to just make fluff has for these three after HANDFJDNN (i’m also very sorry for my terrible english @(*$@*(24)

[morganaspendragonss]

fic request because i am d e s p e r a t e : tarlos carlos whump with supportive gabriel reyes ??? if you’re down to write him that is. i love ur work n ur whump n i think u would write a p good gabe. 🥰

holly’s august extravaganza day 1: against all odds (we're still here)

i'm always down to write gabriel! thanks for the prompt trick, i hope you like it!

ao3 | 2k | car accidents, whump, major character injury, angst with a happy ending

“I told you we should have brought the car.”

Carlos scowls over at TK, shifting one of the many bags he’s carrying higher on his arm. It cuts painfully into his skin, his good mood from earlier long since soured. The knowledge that TK is, of course, right isn’t exactly helping matters.

“In my defence,” he starts, for probably the fifth or sixth time, “when we texted your dad to see if he wanted us to pick up anything from the store, I wasn’t expecting a full list.”

“We could have told him no.”

“TK, he’s your dad and we are literally crashing his home right now. I’m not gonna tell him no.”

TK opens his mouth, presumably to retort with a comment about how his dad loves Carlos and loves having them around. Both of which are things Carlos knows perfectly well, thanks, but he’s still not interested in testing it by refusing to get Owen’s kale chips or that specific brand of shampoo which took half an hour—and two stores—to track down.

Whatever TK was about to say is abandoned when one of his own bags slips out of his grasp and falls to the ground with a depressing thud. It bursts open—because why wouldn’t it—and spills their purchases across the sidewalk. The only solace is that nothing breaks, but that’s where the good news begins and ends; Carlos’s eyes track a can as it rolls down the street and into the gutter, landing in a puddle of dirty water. TK looks forlornly between the dropped bag and those still balanced on his arms, then heaves a long-suffering sigh and crouches awkwardly, easing the other bags down as carefully as he can manage.

“Call an Uber,” he grumbles. “We are not walking home like this.”

On that point, they’re in agreement. Carlos spares himself a moment of idle amusement at TK’s predicament before beginning the arduous task of extracting his phone from his pocket without dropping any of his own shopping.

He’ll hate himself for it later, but he’s so focused that the screech of tires coming around the corner barely registers as a blip on his radar. He doesn’t notice anything until TK suddenly barrels into him, throwing Carlos to the side just before something else, something heavy, crashes into them with a blinding flash of pain, and then—

Nothing.

*

Oh my god!

Someone call 911!

Are they even alive?

Just hold on, son, you’re going to be just fine.

*

Beeping.

Carlos frowns, slowly blinking his heavy eyelids open. It takes a minute to register his surroundings for what they are—a hospital room—and a further minute to notice the presence at his side. It’s his father, looking exhausted, turning his cowboy hat in his hands as he stares at the floor.

“Dad?” he croaks, wincing at the soreness in his throat. “What happened?”

His father’s head jerks up, his eyes going wide as he sees Carlos awake. “Mijo. It’s good to see you awake.”

“Dad, why am I here? What happened?”

He sighs, reaching out to pat Carlos’s arm. “There was an accident,” he explains. “A drunk driver lost control of his car and mounted the curb right where you boys were standing. He was speeding, so he hit you pretty hard. Your foot was crushed under a wheel, you have a fractured wrist, and you bumped your head when you fell so you probably have a concussion. The doctors say you should heal just fine, though, gracias a Dios.”

Carlos lifts his head to look down at his body, only just registering the casts on his arm and foot. There’s a dull ache radiating through his entire body and his head is pounding in time with his heartbeat, but he’s alive and he’ll heal. He should be happy about that, but the only thing occupying his mind is his dad’s silence on TK.

“What about TK?” he asks, part of him dreading the answer. “I remember him pushing me; is he okay?”

“He’s…” His dad hesitates, sending a cold slither of fear down Carlos’s spine. “Alive.”

Carlos stares, the beginnings of panic stealing his breath. “What does that mean?”

His father blows out a long breath. “It means you were right,” he says, meeting Carlos’s eyes. “He did push you, so he took the brunt of the hit. He suffered a serious open pelvic fracture and broken ribs, which punctured his lung. Last I heard, they managed to fix him up and they’re not expecting any further complications, but we won’t know for sure until he wakes up.”

“He hasn’t woken up?”

“Not yet. He will, you’ll see.”

“I want to see him.”

And Carlos knows what the answer will be to that—a resounding no. He also knows that he won’t be able to argue; his father is incredibly stubborn, and when he digs his heels in, there’s no moving him. But he needs to at least try—he’s not going to stop worrying about TK until he sees him, and probably not for a long time after that.

His dad sighs and fixes him with a firm look. “Carlitos, you and I both know that’s out of the question,” he says. “You’ve only just woken up, you need to give yourself time to heal before exerting your body even more. Besides, he’s in good hands and Owen is with him, so we’ll know as soon as there’s any change.”

“Joder, Papá, I know all that,” Carlos cries, frustrated, barely able to refrain from throwing his head back on the pillow. “I just hate that he’s here, hurt, and I can’t even see him.”

“Lo sé,” His dad smiles gently, something that’s probably supposed to be comforting, but really only gets on Carlos’s nerves. “Escúchame, hijo. Descansa. Cúrate. Then you can focus on TK.”

It’s easier said than done and his father knows it, but Carlos has no choice. The conversation is effectively put to an end by his dad reaching over and pressing the call button next to the bed. A nurse comes in and quickly sets about checking his vitals and asking enough questions to make Carlos’s head spin. His probable concussion becomes definite, but otherwise he’s in good shape, all things considered.

He can’t help but wish he weren’t.

*

Two days later, Carlos is deemed fit to be discharged, providing he has someone to help him and providing he agrees to rest and not do anything even close to strenuous. TK is also awake now but, according to Owen, he’ll be kept in the hospital for at least another week. The break to his pelvis was bad, so he’ll need a wheelchair for a while even after discharge, and his refusal to take strong painkillers means his recovery is going to be long and painful.

Carlos is itching to see him. It’s been torture cooped up in his room without knowing how TK was doing—there’s only so much relief messages passed through their fathers can bring. It had only been his father’s stern and steady presence that had kept him in that bed when he felt like he was losing his mind with worry.

But now, finally, he’s being wheeled into TK’s room and helped onto the chair next to the bed. Owen stands off to the side, watching the two of them with a mixture of affection and sadness in his gaze, and his dad hovers behind him, but Carlos only has eyes for TK.

He looks incredibly tired, but he attempts a smile when he rolls his head to look at Carlos, extending his hand out across the distance between them.

“Hey, Ty,” Carlos says softly, taking TK’s hand in his good one. “How are you feeling?”

“Been better. Not sure if I’ve been worse. I think this might just beat getting shot to that title.”

“That’s not funny.”

TK just hums, his eyes drifting closed for a second. “Maybe not.”

“Why did you push me?”

TK’s eyes fly open at the question, confusion overtaking his expression as he stares at Carlos. He moves as if to sit upright before groaning in pain, his face screwing up. Carlos reaches out for him, but he’s beaten to it by his father, who places a reassuring hand on TK’s shoulder.

“Take it easy, son,” he says gently. “Don’t move too much.”

“I hate this,” TK mutters, his body relaxing bit by bit. His gaze is still clouded when he looks back over at Carlos, but he manages a soft smile all the same. “I pushed you because I didn’t want you to get hurt. The car would have hit me either way; I’m just sorry I wasn’t able to get you out of the way in time.”

Carlos blinks at him, dumbfounded. “You’re sorry?” he asks, disbelief colouring his tone. “Ty, you’re in the hospital, seriously injured, because you chose to save me instead of yourself. Why would you do that?”

“You know why.”

Carlos does; of course he does, but it’s not enough to assuage the guilt still bubbling in his stomach at the sight of TK in the bed.

TK sighs, squeezing his hand. “You would have done the same for me,” he points out. “We both know you would have, so don’t you dare ask me to apologise for my choices.”

“I know. I won’t.” Carlos closes his eyes, deflating a little. “I just hate seeing you hurt.”

“And I hate seeing you hurt, so maybe you can do us both a favour and go home. I’ll be fine.”

Carlos must need his hearing tested, because there’s no way TK just said that. There’s no way his boyfriend told him to leave right after calling him out for hypocrisy. Except apparently he did, because he’s trying to disentangle their hands, and Carlos is not having that.

He grips onto TK even tighter and glares at him. “TK, if you think I’m leaving you here—”

“Carlos,” TK interrupts quietly. “I get it. But, babe, you need to rest and heal, and you can’t do either of those things sitting here.”

“Watch me.”

“No.” TK shifts his gaze over Carlos’s shoulder, a slight smirk playing at his lips. “Mr Reyes, can you make sure he rests?”

His dad laughs, leaning over to pat TK’s shoulder. “Of course. I’m sure once his mother sees him, she won’t let him out of her sight for a week anyway.”

TK grins. “Good to know.” He yawns and resettles himself slightly in the bed, his eyes fluttering shut. “Carlos, if you’re still here when I next open my eyes, I’m not kissing you for a month.”

“You shouldn’t make threats you know you can’t follow through with.”

“Don’t make me make it two.”

Despite himself, Carlos laughs. He leans over and presses a lingering kiss to TK’s temple, then stands as well as he’s able, leaning on his dad for support. “Alright, I’m going. I’ll see you soon. Love you.”

TK already sounds half-asleep when he mumbles, “Love you too,” back, and Carlos can’t even be embarrassed by how ridiculously smitten he must look, even though he’s in front of both their fathers.

He allows his dad to move him back to the wheelchair and says a quick goodbye to Owen, keeping his eyes on TK for as long as he can. Just as they reach the door, he catches TK’s eyes opening to slivers, obviously checking to see if Carlos is actually leaving. Carlos shakes his head at him, causing TK to flush at the knowledge he’s been caught. His eyes slam shut again, his tongue poking out childishly, and Carlos laughs, a lightness settling in his heart even as TK’s room disappears from view.

It’s going to be a long few months for the both of them, but they have family behind them to help them get through it.

And they have each other. Which, given everything, Carlos thinks is nothing short of a goddamn miracle.

[dreampathic]

❥chapter 02-beefy strong arms

❥masterlist

❥warnings: suggestive themes, sexual jokes, cursing

❥a/n: there’s a written portion 😉😉😉 also my best friend @katiea03​ helped me out a ton with this chapter so please check her stuff out!

-written portion-

Iwa walks through the front door, running a hand through his hair. He sees Makki and Mattsun on the couch watching a shitty 1980s horror movie.

“Hey,” He nods.

Makki takes a handful of popcorn and turns to Iwa, “Hey baby daddy.” He bites his lip jokingly.

Mattsun turns his head, “Bringing your sugar babies back some money?” Iwa walks up to the couch and slaps both of them on the heads.

“Stop calling me daddy you fucking dumbasses!”

Makki rubs the back of his head, “I know you can hit harder daddy.” Giving a devilish smirk to him.

Iwa grabs the throw pillow next to Mattsun and chucks it at Makki’s face.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Mattsun starts cackling with laughter, but abruptly stops once Iwa takes another pillow to hit him. “OKAY OKAY WE’LL STOP WE’LL STOP!” Iwa throws the pillow next to him, “Fuck you guys.”

He walks away, heading to your room. Your door is wide open, you’re sat on your hardwood floor wearing sport shorts and a black tank top fanning yourself with the dresser instructions.

All of the parts of the dresser are out of the bags, separated in two piles. One with the screws and bolts, and one with all of the wooden parts.

“What the fuck?!” Iwa looks at the unbuilt dresser in disbelief. You look up at him, “huh? what?” He gestures his hands to the floor, “Why is everything out of the bags??”

“The bags were taking up too much space.”

Iwa couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He tried his best to hold in his anger, “YOU DUMBASS WE NEEDED THOSE!” It didn’t work out.

“Why??”

“IF YOU READ THE INSTRUCTIONS YOU WOULD KNOW EVERYTHINGS NUMBERED”

You open the instructions for the first time, read a section, and look back up at him, “Ohhh I thought it was saying how many bags there are.”

Iwa rubs the back of his neck, “I never thought I would say this but YOU’RE WORSE THAN OIKAWA.”

You gave him a look of disgust and stood up from the floor. “How DARE you say I’m worst than Oikawa!”

Iwa rolls his eyes, “I’M NOT WRONG!”

You furrow your eyebrows and grab your phone from your bed, “Don’t make me call him on his date. I’ll do it.” You threaten.

He crosses arms and smirks, “Do it I dare you.” He wanted you to call Oikawa because he knew it would piss him off for you being a cockblock.

“FINE! I WILL!” You scroll for Oikawa’s contact and hit ‘audio call’. Waiting for him to answer, you stare at Iwa with one hand on your hip. When Oikawa picks up he is clearly agitated, “What the fuck do you want? I’m tryna get laid.”

“Iwa-Chan is being mean to me!”

“The fuck you want me to do about that? He’s been bullying me my entire life.”

You frown, “He likes you the best.” Iwa lets out a loud laugh that makes you punch him in the arm. He looks at you with a taken back look because no one ever tries to punch him, because he always punches back harder. But you’re the exception.

“Since when?” Oikawa asks, there is no way he’s the favorite.

You throw your free arm up in frustration, “Since ever!”

Oikawa sighs on the other end, annoyed at his roommate calling him for something so unimportant, “So you’re telling me, you interrupted my chances of getting pussy for THIS?”

Iwa howls of laughter, holding his stomach. You roll your eyes, “Do my feelings not matter?”

“NO not right now!” All Oikawa wants to do is hang up and go back to his date.

“Oikawa-” You try to make him stay on the phone but he cuts you off, “BYE!” He hangs up, leaving you with your mouth agape.

Iwa can’t stop laughing but you punch him again, “Shut up! Help me please!” He sighs, “Fine, I’ll help.”

You give him a wide smile, clapping your hands together, “Thank you Iwa!”

“Yeah yeah whatever,” He mumbled as he took off his work shirt, revealing him in his white tank top showing off his biceps. Of course you always joke around with him about his beefy arms but, wow. You wouldn’t be lying if you said you didn’t imagine those arms wrapping around your-

“Where’s the L screw?” Iwa says, pulling you out of your trance.

“Uhh,” you scratch your head, a bit flustered. “What’s that?”

He sits down, opening the instructions. “You know the metal piece that looks like an L?”

“Oh…” You fucked up.

“Where is it?” He asks, concerned.

“I threw it out.”

This man prayed.

---

Eight hours later, Iwa has been screwing everything in with a knife, almost cutting himself twice. You’re half asleep, leaning on his bicep. You yawn and Iwa looks down to you, “go to bed I got it from here.”

You shake your head, eyes closed, “noooo im helping,”

“you’re not doing anything.”

You open your eyes, looking up at him, “i'm here for moral support!”

Iwa rolls his eyes, glad you can’t see the blush forming on his cheeks. “Just go to sleep”

“No I can't.” You felt bad leaving him to fix your dresser without any company.

He sighs, “It’s fine, just go to sleep.”

You groan, leaning closer into him. “Your biceps are so nice though.”

He really hated the effect you had on him. Making him blush over sleepy confessions, he felt like an idiot getting flustered over you, no matter how much he wanted you to touch him again. “Shut up.” He mumbles.

“It’s a complement!”

“Go to sleep.” He demands.

“Hmph! Fine.” You get up, holding onto his arm for support and plop on your bed, mumbling some nonsense then instantly falling asleep.

Iwa looks over and grins, he wouldn’t have minded your company for a bit longer.

When Iwa finishes up the dark oak dresser, he admires the work he’s done and looks over to your bed, he gives a small smile and leaves your room.

He yawns as he takes off his tank top, throwing it near his hamper and plops onto his bed. He shuts his eyes. Before drifting off into sleep he hears Mattsun from his doorway say, “you’re a fucking simp.”

---

You wake up around the afternoon, first thing you see is your finished dresser. You jolt out of bed smiling wide. You run out of your bedroom and go across the hall into Iwa’s, jumping on top of him yelling, “IWA THANK YOU SO MUCH!”

He opens his eyes right away, “GET THE-” He was about to pry you right off of him, thinking you were one of his other idiot roommates. But he just stood still, cheeks flushing red as your boobs are against his bare chest, trying his hardest not to get a boner.

“THANK YOU THANK YOU! YOU’RE THE BEST!” You shout over and over again pulling him closer to you. He wanted to hug you back, but that wouldn’t be the smartest thing to do.

“LEAVE” He shouts. You don’t budge, “WHY.” You could stay like that forever, but you knew at one point you would have to actually leave. “BECAUSE I SAID LEAVE” “YOUR BED IS COMFY”

Mattsun walks by, half-asleep and grumpily says, “simp.” Makki walks behind him scratching his head saying, “you’re just mad you don’t have a hot girl jumping on top of you in the morning.”

Mattsun punches him in the shoulder, “Ow man!”

Oikawa struts in the apartment, hair disheveled, hickies on his neck with a cocky grin on his face, “Guess who got laaaaiid” He announces going straight to the ‘ACTION BOARD,’ erasing ‘2 weeks’ next to his name and writing ‘0’.

“Nobody cares,” Makki exclaims from the hallway. Oikawa quickly turns to Makki and Mattsun, surprised they’re awake at this hour. They usually sleep in till 3pm.

He takes his jacket off and puts it on the rack, “why are you guys up?”

“Y/n is screaming, we’re all up,” Mattsun yawns.

“Especially Iwa,” Makki snickers.

This instantly sparked Oikawa’s attention. No one ever has the balls to wake Iwa up, they know it’s a deathwish.

“She woke up Iwa-Chan??”

“yep” Mattsun nods.

“where's the blood?”

“the only blood around here is in Iwa’s dick.” Makki laughs.

Oikawa instantly runs into Iwa’s room, being the nosey bitch he is. “Aww Iwa you finally have a girl in your bed!” He cheekily says.

As soon as Iwa heard his voice, his blood started to boil and pried you off of him and pushed you out of his room, “LEAVE ME ALONE!” He shuts the door in all of your faces.

You pout, “Why didn’t he want me in his room?”

All of the guys look at each other, knowing the real reason Iwa didn’t want you in his room. Yet all they could tell you without ruining your innocent gesture was, “don’t worry about it.”

---

❥fun facts: 

-they have a ‘sex board’ (well they call it an action board) in their house where they write down how many days they went out without sex on a white board

-Oikawa is NOT Iwa’s favorite

-Mattsun wants a hot girl to jump on him in the morning

❥tags: @pockyxx @cece-lives-here @psychedelicwh0r3 @elianetsantana @elephantloser @reina-de-tay @agaashesmilktea @navymacaroons @victor-criss-bish @langalvr @bakugouswh0r3 @killlerqween @tsukkiswifeey (send an ask to be added to the taglist!)

[thefanficmonster]

Breathing In

Sequel to: “In Too Deep”

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Cheating (Past), Mentions of toxic relationships

Genre: Romance, Angst

Summary: It’s not just about leaving a person behind, it’s about leaving behind what feels to be a separate world, one you want to detach from yet you still want to hold onto for the twisted comfort it gives you, the familiarity of it all. But then again, you’ve been drowning in the deep too long to still want to hold on, and all you want is to swim up to the surface and breathe in.

Requested by the lovely readers who showed the first fic “In Too Deep” so much love and support. I’m so glad to be writing a sequel for this piece because I enjoyed writing it so much! I love the storyline and I can’t express how grateful I am the Anon who sent in the request for it in the first place. Love you all, Vy ❤ 

A romantic relationship should never be a responsibility. A person should never be another person’s responsibility. One cannot be a pillar and stand strong while the other is falling apart, leaning on them and depending on them for everything in their life. That’s not love, it’s hell. It’s a job you get paid for with nothing but exhaustion, pain and emptiness. Your mind’s constantly flooded by images of all those times you could’ve experienced had those ‘what if’s happened.

What if she didn’t turn up to class late that day? What if she didn’t need anyone to distract the professor for her to get in the classroom undetected? What if when Kaylor asked for sex as a repayment she refused and slapped him across the face?

Well, things would be different. She wouldn’t be living like this, that’s for sure. She’d be working her ass off, just like she’s wanted to all her life. Coming from a family of drunks and bums, she’s always wanted to prove her worth, not to others but to herself. To prove that ‘the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree’ doesn’t always apply. She’s always been terrified of that saying, never wanting to become like her parents and older siblings. Never wanting to become like Kaylor who started off as her acquaintance, proceeded to become a guy she regularly hooked up with and then became her boyfriend. And then, the worst decision among all she’s ever made, she allowed him to slip that ring onto her finger and a few months later exchange vows with her in front of an altar. Had her phone not died the night prior to meeting him, none of this would’ve happened. She’d have several normal jobs instead of one barely-paying one and one she didn’t know she ever even signed up for - taking care of Kaylor.

She’s been drowning in the deep for so long, she can barely remember. Long enough to forget how breathing in feels.

However, she’s not the only one.

He has his own fulfilled ‘what if’s as well: what if he hadn’t left his apartment that night? What if he had stopped after the second beer like he originally intended to? What if he didn’t choose exactly that night to socialize with the stranger who sat down on the bar stool next to him. What if he simply paid for his drinks and left?

But he didn’t, he didn’t do any of that. Didn’t manage to preserve himself, didn’t manage to keep it in his pants or hide the lust in his eyes. Still, the hook-up on its own wouldn’t have been so horrible had it not led to what it did afterwards. Had it not led to a relationship with one very fragile girl. A girl much like him, too much like him. Constantly insecure, fearful, paranoid, dependent, distrusting. A girl always in need of a firm grip on her hand and an external voice telling her it would all be alright because her internal voice is never optimistic. Her own mind doesn’t like her, she can barely stand it, and he got caught in that crossfire.

He can’t really picture what he would be doing with his life if it wasn’t for Ida, he’s that sucked in. He’s that deep into this mess. It’s not water he’s drowning in, it’s quicksand, the type that’s taken form with his regret and self-hatred as a base. Breathing in would result in sand-filled lungs but at this point his only wish is to breathe in, no matter the consequences. After all, if it doesn’t save him it’ll kill him and he can live with that.

Still, it hasn’t all been dark for our broken lovers. There are several ‘what if’s Corpse and Y/N don’t ever wanna imagine or know the outcome of. Such as, for example: What if the two of them never met? What if they didn’t strike up the relationship question? What if they didn’t share that kiss in that parking lot that night. That single contact between their lips was the only thing they didn’t regret that night. What they regret the most, however, is walking away from one another, spiraling their situation out of control, turning it into a twisted, sticky spiderweb, laced with the sin of cheating on a significant other. 

If it were as simple as people make it out to be - break up with the other person instead of cheating - they would’ve done it so long ago. They would’ve been far from here. Very far from this fucking place and these fucking problems had they been the ones holding the leash of their fate rather than let the current of events manipulate them.

Maybe they’re a little late with the grasp of this realization, but that’s not what matters. What’s important is the here and now, the events that are about to occur or not occur. The actions that will or won’t be taken. Y/N and Corpse have been a will they/won’t they pair from the very start, always leaning more towards won’t because of how impossible it all felt. How hopeless the spiraling hell they were in made them feel.

But now the tables have turned.

Corpse was the first to leave his hell-cell. He did so by cutting things off with Ida a week ago. He did so rather gently and caringly, promising he’s always a phone call away whenever she needs him. It took a lot of preparation and guts he didn’t have but had to develop in order to execute such a delicate operation and make it a successful one. The response he got from her was rather surprising.

“I was hoping you’d call it off.“ She said with a small smile, shocking him to the point of letting out a small gasp, “I mean, you know me, I could’ve never done it. But I hated what I was doing to you and I hated myself even more for not being able to stop and...“ she trailed off, her lips pressing in a thin line, eyes glistening with tears, “...I’m so glad you did it. You’re saving both of us, trust me.“

As he was packing his stuff, he overheard Ida’s phone call with her parents, telling them she wanted to move back in with them for a little while but refused to answer any further questions, at least not over the phone. That was the biggest relief, a whole-ass boulder lifted off him, allowing him to finally breathe in. But he wasn’t breathing in at full lung capacity, he still isn’t even no as he stands outside a gas station, leaning on the side of his car which is loaded with all his belongings which he doesn’t have many of, thankfully. He’s waiting for her - the half of this relationship that’s still swaying between will it/won’t it. Corpse is all will, all in, ready for a new, fresh start, ready to be able to breathe the air of the real world, feel the breeze of a real life finally. Whereas Y/N is not as certain, not as prepared and a lot more emotionally attached. It’s understandable, she’s leaving behind a husband, not just a boyfriend.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Corpse. I won’t be able to live if something happens to him. I’ll forever feel guilty, I’ll hate myself forever. You gotta understand.“ She told him the same night him and Ida had their break-up. He called her, telling her he had some big news to share. His excitement was quickly shot down when she gave him this response, eyes glossy with sorrowful tears.

He understood.

She asked for time. He gave it to her.

He gave her an ultimatum. She gave dubious agreement.

The ultimatum? : meet him at this gas station, with her belongings, right at sunset, prepared for the adventure filled with struggles, the whole experience of starting new.

And so he waits, watching as the sun goes lower and lower, leaving the scene to be taken over by the moon and now dark and starry sky - just like his hopefulness is stepping aside for his depression and dread to take over.

She’s not here. She hasn’t tried to reach out to tell him anything. Even a rejection would’ve been better than to let him wait here, his heart breaking a bit more with each passing minute. All this time he’s been trying to convince himself he’ll move on without her if she doesn’t show up. He’ll skip town like the two of them planned to do together. He’ll leave and leave it all behind, Y/N included. But now, looking from this standpoint, being barely a minute away from having to put his foot down on the gas pedal and drive out of the city, pass the sign that’ll tell him he’s passed the threshold, he finds it brings him almost physical pain.

He’s not sure he can do it.

With a heavy sigh he spares the horizon one final glance to see there are only faint traces of the sun he was observing just minutes prior, the final reminder that he has to go now, has to stay true to himself and respect the ultimatum he posed, no matter how much it hurts emotionally, mentally or physically.

Just as he’s about to enter his car, he hears what sounds to be footsteps, but before he can even look up to check where they’re coming from a loud, cheery yell startles him.

“HEY! Look what I got!“ He’d recognize that voice anywhere and no matter what words it says, it’ll always grab his full attention just like it did just now.

Corpse whirls around to face the direction of the voice to see her, Y/N beaming at him brighter than the sun he just watched set. Over one shoulder she has a duffel bag and in the opposite arm she’s dragging a suitcase and if that isn’t confirmation enough, in her free hand she proudly wields what looks to be a document. When she gets closer, his eyes widen at the realization of what she’s holding - divorce papers.

“H-how?“ He stutters in disbelief, his jaw hanging, his heart beating like crazy, his eyes brimming with tears of joy that’s just exploded throughout his chest like a firework.

She rolls her eyes, dropping the papers, suitcase and duffel bag in the dust, “You talk too much.“ With that, she rushes over to him, throwing her arms and legs around him, her head nuzzled in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent.

Breathing in, they’re both breathing in, with full lung capacity at that - something they never thought they’d have the chance to do, but here they are. Here they stand, shamelessly in each other’s tight , loving embrace that they never want to have to let go of again, afraid of the wrong eyes seeing it.

They are finally free, finally out of the deep end and back to being afloat, floating towards the nearest island to make it their own. And on that note...

“Let’s get out of here.“ Y/N whispers in Corpse’s ear, her fingers tightening the hold of his shirt at his shoulder blades.

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

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[kpop-zone]

Red Velvet reaction to their s/o being insecure because of their weight

TW: unhealthy dieting

Irene

“Didn’t you like my stew?”

Confused, Joohyun looked at the container in the fridge that wasn’t even half empty. She had cooked you stew yesterday evening so that you had something to eat for lunch today, but for some reason, you had barely touched it.

“No, I did! It was just a lot, so I couldn’t eat it all because I’m on a diet.”

You replied hastily, causing Joohyun to frown.

“You are?”

She asked, surprised to hear that you were on a diet.

“Um...yeah.”

You chuckled sheepishly and Joohyun eyed you suspiciously.

“Why?”

You looked perfectly fine to her and she knew that you loved food, so it didn’t make sense to her that you would voluntarily starve yourself.

“Well... I mean I’m quite chubby and... you know how people are...”

You admitted hesitantly and Joohyun stared at you in disbelief. Your words had hit her like a slap, and she could immediately feel anger starting to seethe inside of her.

“People? Did someone say something to you? Was someone rude?

Joohyun tried to sound calm, but she could tell by the way that you wriggled about on your chair that she hadn’t been able to hide her anger.

“No, no one said anything. But they don’t really need to. It’s obvious what everyone is thinking.”

You mumbled while letting your head hang and Joohyun was quick to leap to her feet to rush to your side. She crouched down in front of you and gently cupped your face with her hand to make you look at her.

“Let them think whatever they want. They are so far beneath you. Vicious people like that have no right to judge anyone because they are the ugly ones. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

She stated with a serious face, trying to make you feel the sincerity of her words.

“Of course.”

You nodded in agreement while smiling, but Joohyun wasn’t so sure whether you really meant it. She knew that her words couldn’t have been able to make all your insecurities disappear for good. But she still hoped that it had been a start. From now on, she would try her hardest to build up your confidence. No one should ever be able to break it down again.

Seulgi

Pensively, Seulgi eyed you from the bed as you got ready for your monthly date night. You were already trying on your third outfit and she dated you long enough to know what that meant. You were not simply unsatisfied with the way that the fabric felt or how the shirt and the pants looked together. No, the outfits had been completely fine. You just hated how they looked on you. It pained Seulgi to see you like this. Especially because it wasn’t a onetime occurrence. Ever since she knew you, you struggled with loving yourself. Some days, you were completely fine. But on other days -like today- you could barely stand to look at yourself in the mirror. And till this day, Seulgi didn’t know how to help you. She wished that she could just say or do something incredibly wise and take away all your insecurities, but she just didn’t know how. All that she could think of doing was to praise you and to tell you how much she loved you every day. Therefore, she leaped off the bed and silently sneaked up on you from behind.

“You look so gorgeous today.”

She whispered into your ear after wrapping her arms around your waist, causing you to giggle.

“I’m not even ready yet.”

You replied shyly and Seulgi squeezed you tighter while peppering your neck with kisses.

“And? You could wear a trash bag and you’d still be the most stunning person in the restaurant later!”

She grinned cheekily, causing you to shove her lightly as you laughed.

“Liar! How could I be the most stunning person when you will be next to me.”

You smiled, but Seulgi didn’t allow you to take the focus off you.

“Me? Please, if I show up next to you looking like that, no one is even going to notice that I’m there.”

She pointed at her own outfit before checking you out shamelessly and you started blushing.

“You are such a sweet talker.”

You groaned while pushing her away in order to finish getting ready, but the smile on your lips betrayed your feigned annoyance. Your mood seemed to be a lot better now, causing Seulgi to grin proudly. Maybe she hadn’t found a way yet how to prevent you from feeling sad in the first place, but at least she was a professional in making you happy again.

Wendy

“Oh my god, Y/N. This was made for you!! You have to try it on!”

Excitedly, Seungwan pulled out a shirt from the clothing rack and held it in front of you. The color accentuated your eyes like it was meant just for you and she was sure that the soft fabric would hug your body perfectly.

“I can’t wear that.”

You mumbled shyly in reply while a light pink color started to decorate your cheeks.

“What?! Why not?”

Seungwan asked appalled before tightening her grasp on the shirt when you tried to hang it back on the rack.

“Because...because it’s way too tight. You’d be able to see every curve on my body.”

Forcefully, you ripped the hanger out of her hands to store it away and Seungwan stared at you in disbelief for a second before instantly fishing out the shirt again.

“That’s the point, Y/N! Your body is freaking hot! I want to see it! Please try it on. For me.”

She pouted while batting her eyes and your gaze darted back and forth between the shirt and her face as conflict reflected in your face. Eventually, you huffed in defeat and took the shirt out of her hands.

“Fine! I will try it on, but we won’t buy it.”

You eyed her suspiciously and Seungwan instantly nodded in agreement although she was crossing her fingers behind her back. Together you made your way to the fitting room where Seungwan sat down in front of your booth. Patiently, she waited for you to change while thinking about your words from earlier. Did you really think that certain clothes were off-limits for you? Weren’t you feeling comfortable in your own body? By the time you were stepping out of the fitting room, Seungwan was deep engrossed in thought and only noticed you once you cleared your throat. Nervously, you were standing there, trying to hide your upper body with your arms, causing Seungwan’s heart to crack a little. She couldn’t allow you to feel uncomfortable. Therefore, she quickly leaped to her feet and walked up to you while scanning your body as if she had never seen you before.

“Damn, baby. I hope you know CPR because you are taking my breath away!”

She cooed and you buried your face in your hands in embarrassment.

“I mean, there must be something wrong with my eyes. I can't take them off you.”

Seungwan continued to praise you while removing your hands from your face in order to look at you. A bright blush was glowing on your cheeks now, but you were smiling sheepishly.

“Is that so?”

You giggled while starting to show off the shirt a bit and Seungwan cheered loudly for you, causing you to double up with laughter. Seeing you like this made her heart flutter and she looked at you fondly before pressing a kiss on your lips without checking whether anyone was around. Why couldn’t you see yourself the way that she saw you?

Joy

“Should we order the spicy braised pork?”

Sooyoung asked while scanning the online menu of your go-to restaurant with a grumbling stomach.

“You can order whatever you want. I’m not hungry.”

You answered brusquely, causing Sooyoung to look at you over the edge of her phone. She narrowed her eyes as she thought back on the past weeks. This wasn’t the first time that you claimed not to be hungry and she was starting to grow suspicious.

“Did you already eat?”

Sooyoung probed and you shortly met her eyes before looking everywhere in the room but her.

“No...I’m just not hungry.”

You mumbled, confirming the suspicion that had started to develop in Sooyoung’s gut over the past weeks.

“Are you trying to lose weight? I’ve noticed that you’ve been skipping meals lately.”

She confronted you bluntly and you started to fidget with your fingers.

“Yeah...sort of.”

You replied hesitantly, causing Sooyoung to sigh. She had been through enough forced diets herself to know how you were feeling but also how wrong it was to skip meals. Therefore, she put away her phone and straightened up in order to reach for your hand.

“Babe...why are you torturing yourself like that? It’s not healthy to skip meals.”

She asked softly while intertwining your fingers.

“I don’t know...I’ve just been feeling a little insecure lately.”

You sighed and Sooyoung felt how a lump began to form in her throat. All that she wanted was for you to feel happy. She didn’t want you to have to fight those demons.

“But why? You’re perfect. You don’t need to be insecure. Can’t you see that?”

She tried to sound cheerful, but the trembling in her voice betrayed her. You looked at her in shock and Sooyoung was quick to smile at you. She couldn’t worry you right now. She had to be strong for you.

“Don’t torture yourself, Y/N. If you want to, I can talk with my personal trainer and we can create a workout and diet plan for you. But I don’t want you to lose weight for me or anyone else. You shouldn’t diet because you have the feeling that you have to. Because you don’t. You are gorgeous. If you truly want to lose weight though, you should do it in a healthy way. Don’t skip meals, ok?”

She stated calmly, hoping that she was making sense even though the thoughts were racing in her head right now.

“Ok.”

You agreed while smiling lightly and Sooyoung exhaled shakily before pulling you into her arms. She hoped that she could be the support for you that she had needed in the past as well.

Yeri

“Y/N, do you want to die of a heat stroke? Your clothes are way too warm!”

Yeri laughed at you when she saw you approaching her dressed in an oversized sweatshirt and jeans. The two of you had agreed to meet at a bike rental in order to make use of the beautiful summer weather by having a relaxing bike ride. But as soon as Yeri had spotted you, she wondered whether your plan was feasible. She was sure that you wouldn’t last a minute in this sudatory heat, but you didn’t seem to share her concerns.

“I’m good.”

You simply shrugged and Yeri looked at you in confusion. Everyone was wearing light clothing and she didn’t understand why you would dress so inadequately. Hadn’t you checked the weather before going outside or were you simply playing a prank on her? Either way she figured that you had to lose some layers, so she playfully walked up to you and lifted your shirt a bit.

“Are you wearing something underneath?”

Yeri giggled, but to her surprise, you instantly swatted her hands away, causing her to look at you dumbfounded. Bashfully, you avoided her gaze and tugged on the hem of your shirt.

“I’m sorry...I just don’t really like to flaunt my body. Not everyone has a perfect one like you.”

You mumbled and Yeri’s jaw dropped.

“Are you serious?”

She blurted out in utter disbelief, having had no idea about your insecurities. You were perfect in every way to her. Plus, you had always been the one telling her to think positively about her body. It just didn’t make sense to her why you would ever think badly about yourself.

“That you have a perfect body? Yeah, I’m absolutely serious about that.”

You joked in order to lift the mood before taking her hand and pulling her to the bike rental. You kept talking about random things, probably hoping that Yeri would forget about the incident, but she couldn’t. More than anyone else, she knew how it felt to be insecure about your own body and it killed her to know that you were suffering like that. The rest of the day, Yeri couldn’t stop thinking about how you had to feel and what a bad girlfriend she had been for not noticing earlier. From now on, she wanted to be better. She wanted to help you in some way, even though she knew that she couldn’t really do anything to make you be more confident. The only thing that she could do was to be supportive of you and create an environment in which you could feel comfortable, hoping that you would eventually learn to love yourself like she loved you. She was determined to do everything in her power to help you, even if it wasn’t much.

[marjansmarwani]

somehow we’ll be okay

9.3k || ao3

Gabriel and Owen process their guilt, the 126 comes together in the face of (another) tragedy, and Carlos and TK find comfort in each other. ---- A 2x12 coda, in 3 parts

This took me an entire week to write and I'm not even sure what it is anymore but here it is.

---------------

The shrill ringing of a phone shattered the silence of the Reyes home. 

They had just been settling down for the night when the call came and Gabriel muttered a curse under his breath as he rolled over in bed to grab the offending phone from the nightstand. He frowned when he saw the contact info on the screen. 

“Owen?” he said in greeting, “Is everything okay? It’s a little late for a social call.” 

“Gabriel!” The fire captain's voice was tense and distant. It sounded as if he was driving, and fast. “Have you talked to Carlos at all tonight?” 

“No,” he responded, sitting up in bed, nerves suddenly on edge, “Why?” 

“I don’t think Raymond was done. Do you remember what he said? ‘I’ll take what matters the most from you. At first I thought he meant the 126, but I think there was more; and I think he was talking to both of us.” 

It only took a moment for Owen Strand’s frantic words to process and when they did Gabriel felt a cold chill was over him. “The boys,” he said quietly, fearfully, and he felt his wife shift beside him, sitting up and facing him with a concerned expression.

“I think so,” Owen confirmed grimly. “I’m on my way there now but TK’s not answering. It keeps going to voicemail.” 

“I’ll try Carlos,” he said, desperately hoping there was some other explanation for them not answering, anything but the worst fear Owen had just painted for him. He went to hang up, but he hesitated. “Owen…” he said instead, not sure what exactly it was he wanted to say. 

“I’ll call you as soon as I know anything,” the other man promised and despite everything, Gabriel took comfort in knowing that he and Andrea weren’t alone in this fear. He thanked him again before ending the call and switching to his recent calls list. 

“What’s going on?” Andrea asked him, eyes roving his face for any clues. He didn’t answer right away as he tapped his son’s name and held the phone up to his ear, praying to hear his voice answer. Instead all he got was the mechanical ringing before his voicemail picked up. 

He lowered the phone and met his wife’s eyes. 

“Owen thinks that the arsonist isn’t done with revenge yet. He thinks that he had a more personal goal in mind; something that would affect both of us.” 

He knew he didn’t have to spell it out for her - Andrea had always been smarter than him, after all - and when she placed a hand over her mouth he grimaced, reaching over and squeezing her arm gently as he tried calling Carlos again. It was the same as the first time, so was the next. He could feel the fear and desperation growing within him, but he didn’t know what else he could do. Their son’s home was nearly 20 minutes away from their house - he’d never make it in time to make any difference. He could only hope that Owen would get there in time; that his actions wouldn’t cause him to lose what was most precious to him. 

He stood abruptly from the bed, pacing the floor of the bedroom as he dialed again. Again he got the voicemail and it took every single ounce of his self-control to not hurl his phone across the room in frustration. He took a shuddering breath and sank onto the bed, running a weary and shaking hand across his face. 

He felt the bed shift as Andrea moved closer to him, “Talk to me, corazón,” she murmured, a hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. 

“He’s not answering,” he told her dully, “and neither is TK.” He sighed again and leaned forward, putting his head in his hands. 

“That doesn’t mean we have to assume the worst,” she reminded him gently, “not yet.”

He nodded dully and reached up to cover the hand on his shoulder with his own. They waited in silence on their bed; joined together by their hands and their fear as they waited for Gabriel’s phone to ring. The moments passed like sand through a clogged hourglass; each one lasting for its own small eternity as they all piled upon each other. 

Finally, his phone rang.

He snatched it up from where it was resting on his knees but paused over the screen before answering. He needed to know - they both did - but this could very well be the moment that changed their life forever. With a glance at his wife who gave his shoulder another comforting, supportive squeeze, he answered, putting it on speaker. 

“Owen?” he asked in a shaky voice, “What happened? Are they okay?” 

“We’re okay, dad.” 

Nothing else could have made him feel the rush of joy and relief that hearing his son’s voice through the phone did in that moment. He sagged in relief, turning to Andrea to see her eyes glistening with unshed tears. He gave her a watery smile before he turned his attention back to the phone in his hand. 

“The house is gone,” Carlos continued; voice low, rough, and a little shaky, “but we’re safe.” 

“That’s all that matters right now, mijo,” he told him. “Everything else we can handle in time.” 

On the other end of the phone he heard Carlos make a noise of agreement that was cut short by a cough. He frowned and shared a glance with Andrea to see his concern reflected in her expression. 

“Are you sure you shouldn’t be in a hospital?” he asked. 

“The paramedics checked us out, dad. And then TK’s captain, when they were done. We’re fine, really.”

“Are you sure? Because…”

 “We’re fine, dad,” Carlos repeated; his voice soft, but firm.  

Gabriel took a breath, steadying himself. “Okay. Your mom and I are on the way, we’ll be there as soon as you can.” 

“Yes, sir, see you soon.” 

The almost professional tone in his son’s voice hurt. He knew that it was likely a shield; a way to keep himself together in the aftermath, but he needed him to know. He had come so close - too close - to losing him, he needed him to know. “I love you, son,” he said, voice tight as he said the words he didn’t say enough. 

“Love you, too.” 

With those words Carlos ended the call and Gabriel felt as if all the energy had just been sapped from his body and he sank down onto the bed once again. He heaved a deep breath and rubbed at his eyes. He could feel his wife looking at him, so he voiced the thought that has been ricocheting through his mind since the moment Owen had called: “This is my fault,” he admitted quietly. “I could have cost us our son, or could have caused him to lose someone he loves.” 

“That’s not on you, Gabriel.”

“Yes it is - of course, it is,” he argued. “He did this to get back at me, to make me suffer. It’s completely on me.”

“Did you want to hurt Carlitos? Or TK?”

Gabriel looked up sharply, meeting his wife’s gaze with wide eyes, “Of course not!” 

“Then that’s not on you. Yes, someone awful did this to hurt you; but that doesn’t mean you did it. I’m not saying I agree with what you and Owen did,” she reminded him in case he did not recall the rather heated discussion they had had earlier in the kitchen about keeping secrets and not considering the possible collateral, “but you didn’t start the fire. Someone terrible did it of their own free will and that’s on them, not you.”  

Her gaze was steady as she spoke to him and her words firm: she believed what she was saying and there was not a doubt in her mind. He wished he could say the same. 

But if there was one thing he knew about her after over 30 years of marriage it was that there was no arguing with her once she made up her mind. So he simply nodded and offered a weak smile. They sat in silence for another few moments before she stood up, walking up to him and placing a kiss on his forehead. 

“Get dressed,” she told him gently, “let’s go see our son.” 

He nodded and rose on shaky legs, sighing as he turned to his dresser. His emotions were still swirling inside of him; turbulent and unrestrained. He couldn’t believe they had come so close to losing their son and until he saw him with his own eyes a part of him would insist on believing they had. So he threw on the first shirt and pants he found, discarding the pajamas he had been wearing on the bed without a second thought. The small details could be handled later; all that mattered right now was getting to Carlos. 

They were in his truck a few minutes later and the half-hour drive to Owen Strand’s house was spent mostly in silence as they each worked their way through the night's events. When they arrived Andrea barely waited for him to put the truck in park before she was opening her door and climbing out and striding towards the house. He followed quickly behind and the front door swung open as they approached, revealing a tall man Gabriel had never seen before.

“You must be Carlos’s folks,” he said with a nod, “they’re in here.” He stepped aside without a word and Gabriel offered him a nod of thanks, but couldn’t find the words as he stepped through the doorway and got his first sight of his son: sitting at the counter, miserable and soot-covered with his hands clutched around a mug of tea as his eyes tracked something across the room. 

Gabriel followed his gaze to see TK - equally filthy and absently pacing as he spoke on the phone. 

“I’m fine Mom, I promise,” Gabriel could hear him saying even as his eyes traveled back across the room to Carlos. “We both are.” 

He offered Carlos a small, reassuring smile before he turned away, continuing to speak to his mother in low tones. Carlos hadn’t even noticed their presence yet, too focused on his boyfriend to catch much else, but when Andrea stepped closer and murmured his name he turned to face her quickly, eyes widening at the sight of them. 

“Mom,” he said quietly, “dad.” 

And then Andrea had her arms around him and he all but crumpled into her embrace, shaking as he let out a sob. Andrea whispered reassurances and Gabriel stepped closer, not wanting to intrude. But the moment he got close enough his wife released Carlos from her embrace and as he straightened he made eye contact with Gabriel. 

“Dad,” he began, but Gabriel didn’t give him a chance to speak. He simply stepped closer and pulled his son into a hug, clutching him tightly. 

“I was so scared, Carlitos,” he admitted, “and I am so, so sorry this happened.” 

“It’s not your fault dad,” Carlos muttered and Gabriel shook his head. He was about to argue the point further when another voice interrupted. 

“He’s right, Mr. Reyes,” TK said, joining them in the kitchen having finished his phone call. “It’s not your fault - or my dad’s. It’s just something that happened. It’s shitty, yeah,” he admitted, “but it wasn’t anyone’s fault. You couldn’t have known.” 

Any more discussion was halted by Andrea stepping forward to pull TK into a hug as well. 

“Who is or isn’t to blame doesn’t matter,” she said firmly as she hugged TK as tight as she had Carlos a few moments before, “what matters is that you are both safe.” 

“You’re right,” TK agreed from her embrace, his eyes finding Carlos, “that is what matters.”

There was more to his words, as if he was trying to convey a message that only Carlos would understand. Whatever it was, Carlos seemed to understand as his body - still in Gabriel’s embrace - lost some of its tension. A comfortable silence settled over the four of them, the low tones of the other man on the phone in the corner the only sound. 

Footsteps from the stairs soon interrupted that silence and a moment later, Owen Strand turned the corner. 

He smiled weakly at Gabriel and Andrea before he turned his attention back to the boys, “I put some stuff in the guest room at the end of the hall: some extra clothes and towels. I’m sure you’re going to want to get cleaned up, feel free to use whatever you find in the bathroom.” 

TK nodded as Andrea released him, “Thanks dad,” he said gratefully, stepping towards Carlos. He approached and Gabriel let him go as TK held out a hand. 

“Come on babe,” he said softly, “let’s go get cleaned up.” 

Carlos nodded and took the offered hand, allowing his boyfriend to lead him down the hall towards the stairs. As they walked by the other man ended his phone call and called out to them. 

“The others know now,” he said, “and they’re on their way, just so you know.” 

TK smiled fondly and nodded, “Thanks, Judd.” 

Then he and Carlos disappeared up the stairs. 

Andrea looked at Owen, “The others?” she asked.

“The rest of the 126,” Judd explained as he joined them at the counter. “I was about to call them anyways but they saw it on the news first so…”

“They want to come and see that they’re okay for themselves,” Owen concluded with a nod and a small smile, “They’re good like that.” 

His smile faded though as he looked at Gabriel and Andrea. 

“I am so sorry,” he said. “I should have realized it faster. It was right in front of me and I almost missed it. Even as it stands I was almost too late.” 

“You’re no more to blame than I am,” Gabriel told him, “I had the same information and didn’t even think of the possibility until you called me. But really we should be thanking you for saving them. From what it sounds like if you had been a minute later or if they had to wait for a fire company...”

He trailed off, the awful possibility settling over him. They had come so close to losing the one thing that was most precious and it was only thanks to either sheer luck or a miracle that they hadn’t. 

Owen nodded, but his expression didn’t change. They were silent for a moment before he spoke again, “I still can’t help but feel like this is my fault. If I hadn’t gotten involved maybe none of this would have happened - especially not this.” 

Gabriel went to reassure him, to tell the other man that he was wrong, but he stopped. He knew that Owen wouldn’t believe him, because he didn’t. This was their fault; regardless of whether or not their children blamed them. If they hadn’t gotten involved they wouldn’t have had a target on their backs and they would still have their home. 

“It takes two to make a team-up,” he said instead, nodding when Owen met his eyes. He saw understanding in his gaze; the knowledge that this was a guilt they were going to have to live with, but that they could shoulder the burden together - and make sure nothing like this ever happened again. 

---------

“Is it just me or does this place feel different?” Nancy asked as she surveyed the once familiar bar. 

“Does anything feel the same?” Marjan asked wearily from beside her, taking a sip of her water as she joined the paramedic in glancing around the room. 

“That’s because nothing is,” Paul reminded them, “and because it’s been a weird few weeks.” 

Marjan scoffed at that, “Weeks? It’s been a weird day. Our captain got arrested for arson, our fire station was blown up by said arsonist, and then it turns out that was in retaliation for the sting operation our captain secretly put together with our friend’s Texas Ranger dad and included his staged arrest. What part of that is not completely fucking bizarre?”

Paul titled his drink towards her in acknowledgment while Nancy shook her head. Mateo took a sip from his beer. “I’m just glad TK and I managed to get the house cleaned up before shift today so Cap didn’t have to come home to that,” he declared. 

“Speaking of which,” Nancy said, “has anyone heard from my partner? Or his better half?” 

Marjan shook her head, “He said he was heading home once we got the all-clear to leave. And given the discussion that he and Cap had before he left, I have a feeling he and Carlos have a lot of talking to do.” 

“They’re going to need some time,” Paul agreed, “after everything.” 

“I still can’t believe it was all a setup,” Mateo mused with a shake of his head, “I mean I knew Cap was innocent, I just had no idea he was in on a conspiracy.” 

“I just can’t believe they didn’t at least tell TK and Carlos. I mean…” Nancy trailed off, but they all knew what was left unsaid and they had all heard the scene at the firehouse. 

“I guess they did what they thought they had to do,” Marjan reasoned with a shrug. 

“Doesn’t make it right though,” Paul reminded her darkly.

“No, it does not,” she agreed, looking back down at her glass. 

There was silence then as they all let their thoughts wander, all processing the day. It’s only by chance that Majan looked up and happened to glance towards the bar. The hand absently stirring her water with her straw froze and her sharp intake of breath caught Nancy’s notice. 

“Marj?” she asked, looking over to the woman sitting beside her. “What’s up?” 

Marjan didn’t seem to be able to form words because she settled for gesturing vaguely to the bar, and they all followed her gaze to the tv playing idly in the corner. The news was on and there was footage of a structure burning brightly as crews battled the flames. The sight of a burning building would have been familiar to the assembled group regardless, but this particular building was familiar for an entirely different reason. 

Nancy paled and the grin abruptly slid off Mateo’s face, leaving a look of horror in its wake. Paul cursed and pulled out his phone, swiping it open and tapping on TK’s name. It went right to voicemail and they all watched tensely as he scrolled further down the list to Carlos’s name before repeating the process with the same result. The three firefighters exchanged dark, scared looks. The scene on the tv was grim and they all knew first hand that with flames like that, time was key. There was a very small window to escape before escape became impossible, and they all hoped their friends had managed to find that window because the alternative was too awful to think about. 

Nancy hadn’t said a word and Marjan turned to her only to see her trembling and clutching her glass too tight. 

“Nance?” she asked gently, only to get a vigorous shake of her head in response. 

“No,” the paramedic said softly, but firmly. “No. I can’t lose another partner. Not...not again. Not so soon.” 

Marjan glanced at the others briefly to see her own pain reflected on their faces. Then she turned to Nancy, placing a comforting hand on her arm, “Hey,” she reminded her bracingly, “we don’t know anything yet. And TK knows what to do in a fire, he would have done his best to get them out as quickly as possible. Don’t count them out yet.” 

She gave the other woman a smile that was shakily returned. She turned back to the other two, hoping they had a solution or an idea of what to do next but any conversation was interrupted by the sound of Paul’s phone ringing. 

He answered it the moment the caller id flashed onto the screen, picking it up before the first few notes of his ringtone died out. 

“Judd,” he asked quickly, “we just saw the news, do you…” 

He trailed off as their acting captain spoke on the other end of the line, listening intently. After a minute, he relaxed. 

“Thanks, man,” he murmured, “we needed to know. Yeah, we’re all together right now.” He listened for another minute before he nodded, “Yeah, we’ll head over there shortly. Thanks, man, really.” 

With that, he hung up the phone and the other three stared at him expectantly. 

“Do not make me turn to violence Strickland,” Nancy told him after a few more moments of silence, “because I will.” 

“They’re okay,” he told them and the resolution to the tension that had been pressing on them rippled across their table. 

“Alhamdulillah,” Marjan muttered softly and Nancy’s entire body seemed to sag as she leaned forward, placing her head into her hands with a shuddering breath.

“Do they know what happened?” Mateo asked, and Paul nodded grimly. 

“Arson,” he replied, “retaliation from Raymond; revenge against both the men who arrested him.” 

“Ranger Reyes and Cap,” Marjan provided softly, shaking her head. “Shit.” 

“Yeah,” Paul agreed, “it’s a whole mess. And the house is a total loss. But,” he reminded them all after another few moments of silent contemplation around the table, “they’re okay. Judd said they're all at Cap’s house now, and I told him we would head over there.” 

He looked around the table to see if there were any objections but as he expected, there were none. He nodded and took another sip from his beer before setting the still half-full glass down on the table and standing up. The others followed suit and they migrated to Marjan’s car in silent agreement that there was no need to take 4 separate cars and a shared desire to get there as quickly as possible. 

They drove in silence and when they arrived, Mateo led the way in through the front door. They followed him into the kitchen, looking around at the small gathered crowd at the counter. Owen stood up and offered them a smile, “hey guys.” 

“Hey Cap,” Mateo said while Paul added: “Good to see you not arrested.” 

Owen laughed weakly before gesturing towards the others at the counter, “These are Carlos’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Reyes.” They nodded at the tired-looking couple who smiled back as Owen concluded his introductions of the new arrivals to the Reyes. 

They all stepped further into the kitchen at Owen’s insistence before Marjan asked the question that was on everyone’s mind: “Where are they? Are they really okay?” 

“They are,” Owen confirmed, Judd nodding his agreement beside him, “but shaken, understandably. They’re upstairs now, trying to get cleaned up.” 

“It could take a while,” Judd said lowly and the others nodded in understanding - they were all too familiar with the struggle of trying to scrub the remnants of a fire from your skin but that was from a stranger’s fire; someone else’s tragedy. None of them could imagine what it must be like to have the reminder of your home being destroyed clinging to your skin. 

“Man, I can’t believe this,” Mateo said with a shake of his head and it was clear that was a sentiment shared by the rest of the group. 

“Is there anything we can do?” Marjan asked, looking from Owen to the Reyes. “I want to help, I just don’t know how we can.” 

Owen shrugged helplessly, “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “Give them time, I suppose. Be there for them. They’re going to have to start over and that’s not going to be easy.” 

There was a heavy silence over the group as they all considered the task before their loved ones. It seemed insurmountable; too much to take on. 

“But they have each other,” Andrea reminded the group, “and all of us. It doesn’t make it better, but it does make it easier.” 

There were small smiles and nods of agreement at that and before long they fell into comfortable chatter while they waited. The conversation wasn’t uncomfortable, but none of their hearts were in it. All of their collective focus was on the pair currently upstairs and despite repeated reassurances that they were fine, none of the newly arrived group would truly be able to believe it until they saw them with their own eyes. 

Nancy in particular seemed agitated, shifting on her feet and glancing up the stairs every now and then. Marjan could almost feel the anxious energy rolling off of the other woman from where she stood beside her. She knew that they were all worried, but she also knew that Nancy was still healing from the loss of Tim. It had hit them all, but none more than her; rightfully so. The thought now that she could lose her new partner - the one she had finally let into her heart - was clearly affecting her, manifesting itself into an anxiety that would likely not fade until she was able to see TK herself. 

Marjan held out a hand anyways, finding Nancy’s under the lip of the counter and squeezing it. She met her surprised look with a soft smile that widened when Nancy relaxed, some of the tension leaving her body at the touch and the knowledge that her burden was shared. 

Hand still clasped with Nancy’s beneath the counter and away from curious eyes, Marjan turned her attention to where Paul was talking through the case with Ranger Reyes and their Captain. Given everything she had heard she had expected more enthusiasm in the retelling of their sleight of hand to trick the arsonist into walking into their trap. But they were subdued as they talked, almost regretful in hindsight. Given everything, she supposed that was more than fair. She just hadn’t been sure they would feel the same way. 

There was nothing like almost losing the people you cared for most in a disaster of your own making to deflate an ego, she supposed. 

She met Paul’s eyes briefly and his expression told her that he had thoughts that she would likely hear later. She tried to tune into the conversation, willing herself to focus on what was happening right before her, but she couldn’t seem to pull her attention away from the stairs and her friends somewhere on the other side of them. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe Judd’s reassurance that they were fine, but she had been a firefighter for a long time. She had seen the footage of the flames and the skeleton left behind in the aftermath of their fire on the news and she knew that there was a wide gulf between fine and okay. 

And until she saw them she had no idea where in that gulf they were treading, or how well they were keeping their heads above water.

It’s still another few minutes until they hear footsteps on the stairs. All conversation dies in an instant and all gazes turn to the stairs to see them descending: hand in hand and miraculously in one piece. 

She’s the first to get over the surprise, dropping Nancy’s hand in favor of closing the distance between them and pulling TK into a gentle hug. He returns it and she allows herself a moment to absorb the fact that he is safe and whole before she moves on - both needing the same assurances from Carlos and knowing that Nancy is at her heels and needs this just as much as she does. 

Carlos’s smile is so dim when he looks at her that she squeezes him extra tight. He seems to melt just a bit in her arms and she feels a pang for her friends. Though they are both whole and mostly unscathed it was clear they were not okay. But that is something that would come, she supposed, with time. She couldn’t help but shake her head, voicing what everyone else was thinking: “I can’t believe this happened.”

“I guess there’s no saying what a revenge-motivated arsonist will do,” TK said with a shrug. There was silence after as no one seemed to know how to respond to that until Paul, who had been studying them, spoke. 

“Are you sure you shouldn’t be in a hospital?” he asked them in a skeptical voice, “You don’t sound good and you look like you’re about to fall over.”

“Thanks, Paul,” TK said with a roll of his eye but his words only further served to confirm that his voice was still raspy from smoke. “And we were checked on scene: both by the 129’s team and Captain Vega. We’re fine, really.” 

“Maybe we should sit down though,” Nancy suggested, studying her partner and Carlos with a critical eye.  

TK shook his head at her but didn’t fight the migration as the group moved to the living room and they settled on the sofa together, just as they had at the intervention all those weeks ago. In some ways this was earlier similar: the group gathered in the Strand living room, the somber mood in the air. But it was TK and Carlos at the center now; both whole and unhurt, but so far from okay. 

They fell into easy conversation as they sat, falling into their usual patterns and habits like breathing. But Marjan made sure to watch them as they all spoke and she saw the way they clung to each other, even if it wasn’t physical. They were far from alone but it seemed that to each of them the other was the only one in the room that mattered. She couldn’t blame them for that and it didn’t surprise her. 

But a glance around the space revealed just how many people were in their corner and just how much love and support was ready for them to grasp onto whenever they wanted and whenever they were ready. She hoped that it was soon because she didn’t like the thought of them shouldering such a burden alone - even if they did have each other. 

She supposed they would come to see that and that they would take the hands that were offered to keep them from falling. All in good time. 

------------

They ascended the stairs in silence, hand in hand, neither of them speaking until the door to the bathroom was shut securely behind them. In the security and privacy of the enclosed and private space, TK stepped closer to Carlos, reaching out a hand to frame his face and gently run his thumb across his cheek. 

 “How are you feeling?” he asked gently. 

 Carlos shrugged non-committedly, “Okay, I guess. I just really want to get clean.”

 “If there’s one benefit of my dad’s obsession with skincare, it’s that there are plenty of soaps to help with that,” TK told him with a grin. Carlos gave him a smile in response, but it was clear his heart wasn’t in it by the way it didn’t reach his eyes; Carlos’s smiles always reached his eyes. TK let his own grin fade and let his hand fall from Carlos’s face down to his shoulder. 

 “Why don’t you get undressed,” he suggested gently, “I’ll go grab whatever my dad left in the bedroom for us.”

 He gave his boyfriend’s shoulder a light squeeze before stepping away. He was about to move to the door when Carlos’s hand reached out and grabbed him. He turned back to the other man, to see his surprise mirrored on his face. 

 “I…” Carlos began but trailed off as if he couldn’t quite find the words he wanted to say. TK had a feeling he understood though. 

 “I’ll be right back,” he assured Carlos, “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” 

 Carlos held his gaze for a moment before nodding, letting his hand drop as TK stepped away again, heading once more for the bathroom door. He opened it softly, slipping out into the hallway and closing it behind him. He crossed to the guest room and barely even stopped to glance at the items left on the bed. He simply gathered them all - a haphazard bundle of towels and clothes in his arms - before turning on his heel and heading back to the bathroom and Carlos. He knocked once, lightly tapping on the door before he opened it to reveal Carlos. He had removed his shirt in the time TK had been gone but now he was simply staring at his bare chest and arms in the mirror, his gaze tracing the lines of soot winding across his body. TK set down his bundle and stepped closer, his own reflection appearing besides Carlos’s as he met his eyes in the mirror. 

 “I always find it’s the smell that’s the worst,” he murmured. “That’s the part that always got to me.” 

 “It feels heavy,” Carlos said dully. “Like it’s clinging to my skin and it’s always going to be there.” 

 “We can fix that,” TK promised him.

 He gently pulled Carlos away from the mirror, helping him to remove the rest of his clothes before he turned on the shower. Then he removed his own clothes, tossing their smoke-filled and singed clothes into a heap next to the bathroom door to be dealt with later. He reached a hand back into the shower to check the temperature and when he was satisfied he reached for Carlos’s hand, guiding him into the shower and the stream of warm water. 

 He grabbed one of the soaps off the ledge and squeezed some into his hand before beginning to rub it against Carlos’s body. 

 “It may take a few tries,” he told him, “but we’ll get it all off.”

 He scrubbed at his skin gently, making circular repetitive motions up his arms and across his chest. Carlos watched him quietly, allowing him complete control as he washed away the remnants of the night. TK could see his eyes tracking the soot as it faded into the water and traveled down to the drain. 

 “And just like that, there goes what’s left of our home,” he said darkly. 

 TK froze, looking sharply up at Carlos and meeting his eyes. 

 “Hey,” he reminded him, voice firm, “as long as we have each other, we still have a home.”

 Carlos’s expression turned to one of surprise before he wilted, leaning closer to TK. TK abandoned his scrubbing in favor of wrapping his arms around the other man and allowing the warm water to wash over their intertwined bodies. 

 “My home is you, Carlos, it has been for a while,” he said, his words loud and clear in the confines of the shower and their embrace. “Nothing can change that. As long as we have each other, we’re going to be okay.”

 His words settled around them like the water droplets bouncing off their skin and Carlos nodded. TK tightened his embrace, clutching his boyfriend tighter for another moment before he pressed a kiss onto the top of his shoulder blade and stepped away; not straying further than the hand still on his shoulder would allow. He studied Carlos, taking in the glint of his warm brown eyes and the slump of his shoulders. 

 “Are you okay to finish?” he asked softly, receiving a nod in return. He grabbed the soap again and resumed scrubbing them both, methodically removing the reminders from their skin. 

 Carlos was quiet as he worked but TK had the sense he was studying him, almost as if he was trying to solve a riddle. 

 “How are you so okay?” he finally asked. “We almost died an hour ago and you’re fine. How?”

 TK slowed in his motions as he considered, trying to find the right way to explain. He settled on a shrug: “I don’t know if I am okay. I don’t think it’s really hit me yet. Besides,” he added as he moved his hands up to Carlos’s hair, “I’ve been trapped in fire hundreds of times. It’s scary but after a while, you get used to it.” 

 He paused to get more soap and to find the right words. He needed to explain, but he wasn’t sure how. He didn’t want Carlos to feel any less for his reaction, for his fear. 

 “I remember my first time in a house fire,” he said eventually as he squeezed the last of a bottle of shampoo into his palm. “I was maybe a week out of the academy and though you go through training and simulations, nothing can quite prepare you for the real thing. It was a bad one, too: an old house in Bushwick that went up like a tinderbox. I made it through fine, but I was probably shaking for at least an hour after. And that was with training and gear in a stranger’s home. That wasn’t my home, and I wasn’t trapped with the person I loved; worried I could lose them. You’re allowed to feel whatever you’re feeling, Carlos; however you are feeling it. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.” 

 “Logically I know that,” Carlos agreed. “But…” 

 “But knowing it is different from actually feeling it,” TK suggested, receiving a nod in return. He smiled sadly at the other man, placing his hands on his shoulders. 

 “Sometimes I wonder if your shoulders hurt from trying to carry the weight of the world on them,” he told Carlos softly. “And that’s who you are, I get that. You always want to look out for others; always want to make sure everyone else is safe and happy. It’s why you became a cop and it’s a big part of what makes you who you are. It’s one of the things I love about you.” He paused to smile, running his hands across Carlos’s broad chest: newly clean and red from the scrubbing before he continued. 

 “But sometimes you need to feel things too, Carlos. Sometimes you have to lean on someone else. And I know I might not always do such a good job of reminding you, but I can be that someone you lean on when you need it. I want to be. We’re a team, right? And that means we take care of each other. So whatever you are feeling now, you are not alone. I’m here for you - every step of the way. And if I need it later, when this whole mess finally processes, I know you’ll be there for me too.” 

 “We lean on each other,” Carlos agreed softly, and TK smiled at him again, reaching behind him to shut off the water.

 “Always,” he promised him, leaning forward to press a light kiss to his lips before he exited the shower, “no matter what.” 

 They dried and dressed silently, pulling on borrowed clothes that felt almost foreign against their freshly washed skin. TK spared a glance at their discarded clothes, still in a heap by the door. He debated throwing them out, but he couldn’t bear the thought. They were the only thing they still had that was theirs, after all. He gently picked them up and placed them in the hamper, making a mental note to try to wash them tomorrow, to see if they could be salvaged. Then, task completed, he looked back to Carlos. 

 “You ready?” he asked. Carlos took a deep breath and nodded, offering him a smile that still didn’t reach his eyes, but it was closer. 

 “Yeah, let’s go.” 

 TK nodded, but hesitated at the door. 

 “If it’s too much, if you need to step away,” he began, “tell me. I’ll find an excuse. And even if I can’t everyone will understand.” 

 Carlos nodded and reached for TK’s hand, winding their fingers together. 

 “I’ll be fine,” he promised. “Just, stay with me?” 

 “I’m not going anywhere,” he assured Carlos, squeezing his hand gently and holding his gaze for another moment before they headed downstairs to where their friends and family were waiting for them. 

 The sound of chatter drifted up the stairs as they approached, but it died as they reached the bottom of the stairs and when they entered the kitchen, all eyes turned to them. The familiar gazes were filled with sympathy and relief, and TK forced a smile; holding Carlos’s hand a little tighter. 

 “Hey guys,” he said and his words seemed to be the catalyst needed to break the spell. Marjan is the first to approach, pulling first him and then Carlos into a gentle hug. Nancy is right behind her, squeezing TK tightly and holding on for a few moments longer. 

 “You really need to stop with this almost dying every other week bullshit,” she muttered into his shoulder, “I need my partner.” 

 He chuckled softly, returning the hug, “I’ll try my best, Nance,” he promised. 

 “Good,” she told him, pulling away and blinking away the tears that were slowly filling her eyes, “Because breaking in a new one is a lot of work. I don’t have that in me again this year.”

 He gave her a smile as he pulled away, pulling Carlos into a hug and lingering there as well, murmuring something to him in low tones. He was pulled away from their moment by Paul appearing before him, wrapping him into a hug. The other man didn’t say anything, but he looked at TK for a long moment as he pulled away, his analytical gaze taking him in. TK offered him a half-smile, and Paul nodded before stepping closer to Carlos. The next hug was full of forceful enthusiasm and TK smiled fondly as he found his footing again after Mateo nearly bowled him over. 

 Once they had all gotten their hugs in his team stood back, taking them in. Marjan was the first to speak, voice low in disbelief, “I can’t believe this happened.” 

 TK looked past them to where his dad sat watching them. Their eyes met and TK knew that they were both thinking the same thing: this could have been avoided. He had meant it earlier when he said it wasn’t his dad or Gabriel’s fault. Neither of them had started the fire and he knew that. He didn’t blame them for the fire. 

 But there were other offenses and other hurts they had caused when they had charged into a situation with no regard for how it might affect anyone else. He didn’t feel up to broaching that subject just yet, he knew he would have to. He suspected Carlos would have some feelings on it as well, once the shock had worn off a bit. For now, they could dance around it and he could let his dad’s silent remorse be enough. 

 “I guess there’s no saying what a revenge-motivated arsonist will do,” he said eventually, pulling his focus back to the group before them. 

 No one seemed to know what to say to that, and he couldn’t say that he blamed them. Instead, he tried for a smile as he took Carlos’s hand in his own again. He could feel Paul studying them both and parried his questions about hospital visits. They were fine - or at least as fine as they could be. 

 The suggestion to move to the couch was a welcome one however and he tugged lightly at Carlos’s hand, guiding him to one of the couches. He let Carlos sit before he settled in beside him, pressing against his side to both provide and receive the reassurance that they were both there. The conversation ebbed and flowed around them and while TK interjected from time to time he mostly let it all wash over him. He and Carlow were both here; they were both safe. Their friends and families were with them and whatever would come they would face, just like he had told Carlos earlier. 

 Now if he could only get himself to believe it. 

 The conversation is light and not too hard to follow (purposefully so, he’s sure, and he appreciates it) and soon they are joined by their parents and Judd as they migrate from the kitchen. Judd comes up behind them and places a warm hand on TK’s shoulder. 

 “I’ve gotta get home to Grace,” he tells them. “She sends her love, and probably some food tomorrow too, if I know my wife. But hey,” he paused to squeeze TK’s shoulder, looking between him and Carlos as he spoke, “you let me know if you need anything, okay? Anything at all, just ask.”

 TK and Carlos both nodded. TK was about to thank his friend, but Carlos beat him to it, “Thank you Judd,” he said earnestly. “For the offer and for earlier. I…” he trailed off, looking at TK before clearing his throat and trying again, “I don’t know how to ever thank you for that.”

 “And you don’t need to,” Judd said firmly. “Not only is it my job, but it’s what you do for family and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I’d rather I never have to though, so let’s all try to avoid fires in our off hours from here on out, yeah?” 

 The last bit was directed at the room at large and pulled a few chuckles from the others, but when Judd looked back down at them his expression was soft and his smile sincere. He put his other hand on Carlos’s shoulder and gave them each a comforting squeeze before he moved his hands, giving the rest of the group a wave before he headed out the door. 

 “We should probably be heading out soon too,” Andrea said regretfully. “It’s getting late and you boys are going to need sleep after everything and I’m sure Owen doesn’t need a houseful.” 

 “On the contrary,” Owen countered immediately, “I love a houseful. And it just so happens that I have an extra guest room, if you’d rather stay.” 

 Carlos’s parents didn’t respond right away and TK watched as his dad’s expression softened before he spoke again, “I’m sure you want to stay close, because I know I do. There’s no reason you should have to leave just because we ended up at my house. You are more than welcome to stay, really. That applies to all of you, really,” he added in a heartier tone. “Obviously not Mateo because he already lives here but you all are welcome too, always.”

 “As tempting as that is and as much as I appreciate it, really, I’m pretty sure you’re out of guest rooms cap, and my place isn’t that far,” Marjan responded, and Paul and Nancy nodded. 

 “What Marj said, Captain Strand,” Nancy said awkwardly with a nervous smile. 

 “Likewise,” he said. “I do really appreciate it though, and you can bet I will be over here tomorrow to check in on you two.” At Marjan and Nancy’s pointed looks he sighed, “ We will be back tomorrow.” 

 Owen first glanced at TK and Carlos and upon their nods, he smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he confirmed, smiling at the group. 

 They all rose then, extending their goodbyes, reminding them of the standing offer. Anything you need was repeated over and over again but TK knew that they meant it. There was no false sincerity or empty words here - not with these people, not for them. Eventually, the three of them headed out into the night and Mateo headed off to his room leaving TK and Carlos alone with their parents. 

 There was silence in the wake of Mateo’s door closing, for a beat. Then Andrea Reyes, who had been studying the boys as the others made their exit looked first to her husband and then to Owen. 

 “If you really don’t mind…” she began, but Owen cut her off with a wave of his hand. 

 “I don’t mind,” he assured her. “In fact, it would make me feel better.”

 There was something unspoken that passed through their parents, confirmed with a smile from Carlos’s mother and a nod from his father. But his focus - whatever portion of it that wasn’t honed in on Carlos and the presence of him beside him - was soon interrupted by a yawn that caused all eyes to turn to him. He could feel his face turning red as he stammered. 

 “I’m sorry, I don’t want to be rude but…”

 “But it has been a long day, and you boys have been through a lot,” Andrea finished gently. “You should go to bed, you need rest. We’ll see you in the morning.”

 Carlos shifted beside him and TK could see him gearing up to argue, whether about his parents staying or the fact that they were fine, but his dad cut him off. 

 “Listen to your mother, Carlitos,” he said gently, “you know as well as I do she’s always right.” 

 Carlos still looked like he wanted to argue, but TK placed a hand on his knee drawing his attention back to him and he smiled. Carlos held his gaze for a few minutes before he relaxed and nodded before standing and offering TK a hand. TK took it with a smile, allowing his boyfriend to pull him off the couch. No sooner was he on his feet than Andrea Reyes was before them, offering them each a hug and a kiss on the forehead. 

  “Go get some rest,” she told them softly, “we can start to figure everything out in the morning.”

 TK glanced over at their dads who both wore sad but sincere smiles. He studied them all; their newly meshed families that had blended so well trying to place this in his head with everything else. He couldn’t but he knew that he would, in time. 

 For now, he allowed himself to be led to the stairs by Carlos and with one last wave to their collective parents, they disappeared up them; shutting themselves into the privacy of their temporary bedroom. The sight of the bed was enticing and TK flopped onto it, suddenly aware of how quickly all the energy had left his body now that there was no more goal to push towards. He heard a small chuckle and the sensation of the bed dipping beside him as Carlos sank onto his side far more gracefully and once he was sure he had settled he rolled so he was facing the other man. 

 “So,” he began, “our parents are having a slumber party.” 

 Carlos chuckled and TK grinned at him before the mood turned more somber again. 

 “This is all kind of surreal,” Carlos admitted after a moment. “Not only did our house burn down but I’m now spending the night at my boyfriend’s dad’s house with my parents staying in the other guest room. It’s just a lot to take in. Especially…” 

 Carlos trailed off and TK shifted so he had a better view of his face. “Especially what, Carlos?” he prompted softly, running a gentle hand down his arm, watching as he tried to get his thoughts in order. 

 “I’ve never doubted my parents love me,” he said after some time, “not for a moment. And I know now that they don’t have a problem with me being gay and they are supportive of that, and us. I even know how much they like you,” he added with a smile, pulling TK’s hand closer and pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. 

 TK grinned at him but knew that there was more he wasn’t saying. “But?” he prompted. 

 “But the thought that they are here, that both of our families are together? I’m just having a hard time processing that, I think. It’s a lot very quickly.”

 TK nodded, “That’s understandable, babe. So much has changed recently and you’re allowed to struggle with that, I will never judge you for that. But it’s a good thing, right? Our families getting along?” 

 “It is,” Carlos assured him quickly. “Though,” he added dryly, “I’m not sure how much of our dads scheming we can be reasonably expected to survive.” 

 TK groaned and tucked his head into Carlos’s shoulder, “Don’t remind me. I’d like to think they learned their lesson…”

 “But it is hard to say with them,” Carlos agreed. “Which is why I think we need to talk to them about it, soon.” 

 TK pulled back from Carlos and placed his head back on his own pillow with a sigh, “You’re right,” he agreed, “I’ve been thinking the same thing. I just couldn’t handle it tonight.”

 “Me neither,” Carlos confirmed with a nod. “But I suppose they’ll both be here tomorrow, we can try then.” 

 TK hummed in agreement before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. It wasn’t even that he was ready to sleep yet. There was just so much in his head and he didn’t know where to put it all. There was noise coming from every corner of his mind and he couldn’t seem to drown any of it out. 

 “Ty?” Carlos’s asked, his gentle voice cutting through the dark and silent room, “How are you doing?” 

 TK took a moment to think, to try to organize the mess in his mind. There was really no concrete answer to give, but he turned again so he was facing Carlos before he did his best to answer. 

 “I’m upset,” TK said after some consideration. It took some time to find the right words for everything he was feeling. “And annoyed at our dads and still so scared at what could have been. I’m overwhelmed with everything we have to do now, with the idea of having to start over. But mostly,” he added, knowing that what came next was the strongest truth of all, “I’m worried about you.” 

 Carlos furrowed his brow, “Why?” 

 “Because it was your home, Carlos.” He shook his head as Carlos opened his mouth to argue, “I know it was our home, but it was your home first. You’re allowed to be upset about that Carlos.” 

 Carlos was quiet for a moment, absentmindedly running a hand down TK’s arm as he considered, “You’re right,” he said eventually. “It’s hard. That condo was the first place I could really be myself, the place where I started to build my life. The place where we started to build our life. And I’m upset about it - it hurts to think about. But then I think about what could have been and...I really didn’t think we were going to make it out of there, TK.” 

 His voice grew thicker and tears filled his eyes once again but TK reached across the space between them to gently brush them away. 

 “But we did,” he reminded him firmly. “We did and we’re okay. We may not have a home anymore, but we have each other.” 

 “Which means we will always have a home,” Carlos agreed, echoing his words from earlier. “And I know it’s not ideal, but now we get to start something new together. It’s going to be scary and hard and it’s not going to happen quickly, but we’ll make it work. We have family and friends to help us, and we have each other.” 

 And as they lay there in a spare bed at TK’s father’s house; friends and family alike waiting in the wings to offer them love and support and the man he loved more than anything else in the world whole and safe right beside him, TK knew what Carlos said was true. He moved closer to the other man, readjusting so his arms were wrapped around his torso and his head rested on his chest; the steady beating of his heart a steady companion to help and hold off the fears hovering so close by. It was a reminder too; that they had both made it out and that he wasn’t alone. That he never would be.

 There were so many uncertainties and unanswered questions but there was one thing TK Strand knew for sure: as long as they had each other, they would be okay. 

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

Reading through your wedding post made me so happy, but then I read about Falco's family 😭 Do you think you could write some of your headcannons of you and Reiner watching Falco for a week while his brother goes on a business trip or something. I can only picture by the end of the week that the house is full of the kids because none of them want to go home because Falco misses his brother and hes sad!! 😭😭

I'm so happy you enjoyed it! And that's such a sweet and thoughtful request how could i say no :( my god it sounds like the perfect comfort fic to write and honestly Falco deserves it💛

And the kiddos comforting Falco is a really adorable idea especially since he's the one looking out for everyone and comforting them most of the time, i can only imagine how loved he'd be by them.

Falco spending a week with you and Reiner

{ Reiner x reader | tw:deceased parents tw:neglectful parents | reverse comfort, fluff | modern }

{ "Tales of Enchantment" by Frank O. Salisbury 1874–1962 }

Around 5am, you and Reiner were waiting in the living room, each holding a cup of coffee. In the past days you got a call from Colt, asking if you can take care of Falco for a week, he sounded really apologetic and so you reassured him it's not trouble at all.

Apparently him and Zeke had a work related trip to a far away town, being understaffed in that town and all, the situation was dire and they couldn't refuse without their rating taking a huge hit not to mention morally too. But as a compensation, the company promised a higher pay to make their effort worth it.

You didn't notice the repeated knocking on the door till a couple seconds later, lack of sleep delaying your senses.

Opening it, you were met with an anxious Colt carrying his little brother in his arms, still asleep in his pajamas. Zeke from behind him carrying a couple bags and backpacks, he waved to you with a smile.

As Reiner took Falco in his arms and some of the bags too, you carried his Marvel school backpack and a list Colt made for all the things Falco needed and liked. He seemed to put a lot of effort in it, somethings in it you didn't even know yourself.

While tucking Falco in your bed, Reiner couldn't help but express his worry over Colt working himself to exhausting, both mentally and physically.

Yeah it was only a temporary thing till Colt graduates college and finds a stable good paying job, whilst taking care of his little brother as much as he can. He's been carrying Falco's responsibility on his shoulder since the funeral without a twitch or a complaint.

You think back to all the times you saw Colt, most being for mere minutes when he came to drop off the kids or pick them up just as his classes ended and before his shift at work started, barely having time for himself yet he chose to spend that little remaining free time on Falco and his friends.

You sit next to Reiner on the bed, gently brushing Falco's hair away from his face as he's sound asleep. He always looked up to his brother more than anyone else and would never let anyone talk badly about him.

It's like his own personal superhero.

"Do you think he'll be sad knowing he didn't get to say goodbye before Colt left?" You ask, still looking at Falco.

Reiner thinks for a moment before answering, "probably, but won't show it" he secures the blanket more around Falco, "sometimes I wonder who's more stubborn with showing their emotions, Gabi or Falco."

"I'd say Zofia wins the acting Oscar" you turn the lights off on your way out, "wasn't it for Udo, we wouldn't know how she's feeling half the time."

Around 10am, a very sleepy Falco merges out of the dark bedroom. Making his way to sit between you and Reiner on the couch, while carrying a blanket around him.

He leans into Reiner's hand when he strokes Falco's hair while you secure the blanket around him. Seeming unusual quiet, you and Reiner shared a knowing concerned look.

Offering to make him his favourite food for breakfast got a smiles out of Falco, Reiner even let him choose what shapes he wants his sunny side eggs as.

While he went to cook and prepare food, Falco shyly leans into your lap as if testing the water.

Please assure him it's okay to seek physical comfort from you, wrap your arms around him and he'll be embarrassed at first to ask to sit on your lap but will love it afterwards.

Just don't tell anyone about it okay? It's something his parents used to do when he was little.

When he heard about Gabi coming over today, he seemed to light up. While Udo and Zofia have weekend music lessons they couldn't make it till tomorrow.

While looking away, he asked if you could watch teen titans go with him.

The rest of the day went smoothly after that, Falco was a good kid in general and a really helpful and understanding person. He helped you both with chores and even attempted to cook pancakes.

While it came out burned, don't tell him that! He's really worried so please make him know you loved it and it was super delicious.

You and Reiner even took him to the dogs park nearby, he had pet so many good dogs till he couldn't count, even played fetch with one. After that you got ice cream on the way back.

When Gabi finally arrived, full of energy and enthusiastic about Falco staying over meaning she too will be staying over

All hell broke loose, it's like a switch had been flipped and the well behaved good boy Falco you know was completely weoponised by Gabi as she pulled him into her mischiefs

By himself, Falco is a good kid, well behaved, polite and responsible for his age. But with adding Gabi to the mix? They're a force to be reckon with.

You could see that Reiner was trying his hardest to deny that his closest cousin Gabi, was the bad influence on other kids all along.

You know? The one leading you off a cliff that your moms tells you not to follow? The rebellious kid with very strong opinions and the will to fist fight god? Yeah that one.

Apparently, no one gave Falco the cliff talk yet because he seemed far too eager to follow her to the end of the earth and down that cliff, he'd even jump hand in hand with her just to protect her from the sharp rocks under.

Gabi was actually looking forward to Falco staying over, since either way she'd spend a couple of days with you and Reiner whenever her parents are away or are too busy. She can't handle feeling lonely in the house, it's one of the worst feelings she's ever experienced.

It reached a point that Reiner gave her a copy of the keys, just so she could come in whenever even if you were at work. He too didn't like the idea of her being alone in a house all by herself, yet her parents didn't seem bothered at all.

But now she has a friend to spend the time with!

Falco was finding comfort in the fact that him and Gabi are currently in similar situations, while his was temporarily he felt better knowing he wasn't alone in this.

By the end of the the day, they managed to build a pillow fort in your living room. No one allowed to enter unless they're bearing offerings snacks

Around 10pm, when both of them fall asleep inside the fort. Falco hugging a pillow to his chest while Gabi still had a controller in her hand.

Of course Reiner took some pictures, how could he not? Especially with the way Falco's fingers were tangled with Gabi's as she had cookie crumbs around her mouth.

He also sent it to the groupchat Zeke made, reassuring Colt that Falco is having the time of his life whilst also sharing their adorable cousins with the rest of his friends.

The week went by faster than anyone could notice, good times always fly fast eh?

Each morning you and Reiner would walk Falco to the school bus before watching him sit next to Udo, sending him off with packed lunch and waving as the bus went away.

After school the rest of the kiddos will come with him home, keeping him company and helping him with homework too. They'd make sure to play Videgames right after.

Porco actually took over the duty of taking Zofia and Udo back to their houses, let's just say their mothers didn't like him at all, but reluctantly agreed after Reiner assured them he's a close family friend.

Each day around 6pm, Colt would video call him on his work break, sometimes with Zeke and other times alone. Falco would tell him about his day and Colt would praise him for all the good work he's done, he'd even share stories of his own and remind him to brush his teeth and eat his vegetables.

After each call, Falco will be noticeably more...down. can you blame him? He really misses him brother.

Sit next to him and hug him close please, he really needs it but he can't bring himself to ask for it. Soothe away his worries and don't mention it if his eyes start watering, just pull him against your chest and let him cry his heart out.

On nights he's particularly sad, he'd sneak into your bedroom to sleep between you and Reiner. It's something he used to do back when he was little, he can't help but miss his parents.

It makes him feel safe so make sure to keep a space for him in there always.

Please stroke his hair till he falls asleep like his mother used to do each night, and let him lean against you while watching cartoons like his father did.

You also noticed how...dotting the kiddos are around him during these times.

Gabi is more gentle with him, even willing to play the games he wants instead of hers. She always teams up with him and her words whenever they win make him smile.

Zofia shares her food with him, something so scarce. She gives up her turn on the tv for him and even defends his choice in what to watch if the others complain.

Udo is the one making him space on the school bus and walking with him home too. Helping him with his homework and holding his hand whenever he seemed to get sad.

Udo and Falco are a great emotional support to each other, they're not afraid to speak about their emotions to the other.

And naturally they're the most comforting, with Zofia botteling up her own emotions and Gabi wrestling through it, it's the two of them who work as the group emotional support backbone.

Reiner couldn't stop talking to you about how proud he is of Udo when he saw him comforting Falco these days, you couldn't agree more.

By the end of the week, the three kids were surrounding Falco on the couch as they played Mario karts.

Zofia was threatening to throw hands with whoever threw that blue shell at her making her last place, Gabi was too busy securing her first place spot.

Udo was leaving strategtic traps in his trail while in third place, making Zofia even more frustrated as she fell into every single one.

Falco was racing with Gabi in second place, attempting to push her kart or power through to the finish line.

When the black and white line came into view, Gabi and Falco's karts were separate by mere inches, both of them attempting to outrun the other.

And when Gabi managed to get a hold of the first spot for three seconds, a flying blue shell knocked her away. Making Falco the winner as he crossed the line.

To this day, Gabi doesn't know if which one of Zofia and Udo were the cause of her demise, but oh she will find the traitor and they will pay.

After that intense scene, they all shared a bag of cookies she brought from home! It was animal shaped.