#(well. now that i'm out i know that's what i did and why but i DEFINITELY didn't have that self awareness in the moment) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

joemama-2 · 18 hours ago

Text

velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader

synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. wc: 12.3k

tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation

series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter < spotify playlist

YEAR: FEBRUARY, 2018

You don’t think you’ve ever felt more scared than you do at this current moment. No screams from your mother, preparation for a big exam, nothing. None of it compares to the way your hands tremble, your heart racing faster by the second, followed by a sinking feeling in your stomach. You gulp, sweat falling down and stinging your eye, but you don’t wipe it. All you’re focused on is the tiny, white stick in your hand. The even tinier two lines stare back up at you, laughing in a taunting way that almost makes you hurdle it across your room.

Pregnant.

You’re fucking pregnant.

“God…oh…oh my god, no…no, this can’t be—”

“Y/N! Did you not clean the rice like I asked?!”

Your mother’s angry voice snaps you semi-back into reality. You gasp with a jolt, head swiveling around. “Shit, shit, shit,” you mutter to yourself in a dazed panic, hearing the approaching steps of hers coming to the bathroom door. Without any other solution, you lodge the pregnancy test into the pocket of your sweats, flattening out your oversized sweater and praying to whatever gods that are watching that it doesn’t slip. You open the door just as she’s about to yank it open. “Sorry, I…I forgot.”

She eyes you with suspicion, her sharp gaze flickering over your face. "Forgot?" she repeats, arms crossing over her chest. "What could possibly be more important than doing what I asked you to do?"

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to meet her eyes despite the suffocating weight pressing down on your chest. "I just—I'm not feeling well," you lie, trying to keep your voice steady. "I was gonna do it in a minute."

Her frown deepens. "Not feeling well?" She clicks her tongue, shaking her head. "You're always holed up in here, wasting time. Get out of the bathroom and go wash the rice before my date gets here."

You nod quickly, brushing past her, heart hammering so hard you're sure she can hear it. The test in your pocket feels like a burning secret, each step making it press heavier against your thigh. You rush to the kitchen, hands clammy as you reach for the bag of rice.

Pregnant.

The word echoes in your mind, taunting, terrifying. You grip the edge of the sink, squeezing your eyes shut. This isn't happening. It can't be. You don't realize your breathing has turned shallow until you hear the faintest of footsteps behind you. "Y/N," your mother's voice is sharper now. "Why are you just standing there?"

Your eyes snap open. You force your fingers to move, pouring the rice into the bowl, submerging it in water. The grains slip between your fingers as you swirl them around, but your mind is far, far away. “Sorry, Mom.”

She scoffs and walks over to plop onto the couch.

What are you going to do? And the better question is, how in the fuck are you going to tell Satoru?

You remember going over to his that night, considering his parents were once again out of the country for business. Even driving there, you felt the need to pull over because your wobbly hands were inhibiting you. Somehow, you persevered and made it to his estate. Quickly hopping out of the busted-down 2001 Toyota pick-up truck, striding over to the front door. He must’ve seen you through the window, opening it before you could knock, with his usual smile. “Hey, baby, I mis—”

You push past him to go inside, scrubbing a hand over your face.

Satoru pauses mid-sentence, blinking as he watches you storm inside. His usual playful demeanor falters when he catches sight of your expression—wide, panicked eyes, lips pressed into a thin line. “Uh… okay?” he mutters, shutting the door behind you. He turns, arms crossing as he watches you pace back and forth in the grand foyer, your hands running through your hair like you’re trying to hold yourself together. “Are you gonna tell me what’s going on, or do I have to start guessing?”

You stop abruptly, looking at him. Your throat tightens, and your nails dig into your palm. Just say it. Get it over with.

But the words refuse to come out.

Satoru’s brows furrow. His teasing lilt is gone now, replaced with something softer—concerned. He steps toward you slowly, hands reaching out but stopping just short of touching you. “Y/N… what happened?”

You take a deep breath, fingers curling around the pregnancy test still hidden in your pocket. Your heart pounds so loudly that you swear it echoes off the expensive marble floors. Your eyes water, but you force yourself not to shed any tears. Not now, at least. “I…there’s something I have to t-tell you, Satoru.”

He tilts his head slightly, white lashes fluttering as he studies you. The concern in his expression deepens, but there’s something else—anxiety, maybe. You’re not sure, and you don’t have time to analyze it. Your fingers tighten around the test like a lifeline, the plastic digging into your palm. Your entire body is tense, stiff like a tightly coiled wire that could snap at any moment. The air between you is thick—too thick—like the walls of the estate are pressing in on you, suffocating you beneath their weight.

Satoru notices. He always notices.

His hands fall to your shoulders, firm yet gentle, his thumbs grazing over the fabric of your sweater in slow, soothing motions. “Y/N,” he says your name again, softer this time. “You’re scaring me.”

You swallow hard, willing yourself to look up at him. His gaze is piercing, searching for something in yours, and it only makes this harder. He looks so young, so unburdened, like he hasn’t even considered the possibility of the life-altering news you’re about to drop on him. And that makes you feel even more terrible. Your breath hitches as you pull the test from your pocket, your hand trembling as you hold it out between you. The two little pink lines stare up at him, just as they had at you hours before.

Silence.

Satoru doesn’t move at first. He just stares, like his brain is struggling to process what’s right in front of him. His lips part slightly, then close again. The usual easy confidence, the endless supply of teasing remarks—it all vanishes in an instant. His hands slip from your shoulders, falling uselessly to his sides. “...Is…is this real?” he finally breathes out, voice uncharacteristically quiet.

You nod, your throat too tight to speak.

His eyes dart back to the test, then back to you, something unrecognizable flickering across his face. For the first time since you met him, Satoru looks… lost. The strongest man you’ve ever known, the boy who never seems to falter, suddenly looks like a scared kid. That terrifies you even more.

“Shit,” he murmurs in thinly veiled panic, grabbing the test from your hands and looking closer. As if doing that will magically make the two lines revert to just one.

You almost want to scoff at his initial reaction. Shit. The word you say when you do something wrong or when you make a mistake. Though, you’re not surprised. How could you be? Why would he be happy right now? Why would he want a child at just twenty-one with someone like you, of all people? But the reality starts to sink in even more as you gauge his reaction. The furrow of his brows, the way his lip pulls downwards, the agitated hand he runs through his messy hair, then the shaky exhale he lets out when he looks at you. Nothing is said, not that it needs to be. Your eyes blur with tears, and your heart twists at the fact that he looks this close to telling you to get rid of—

“What do you want to do, Y/N?”

His voice cracks slightly, low and steady, but the tension in it is unmistakable. The words hang in the air between you, heavy, unspoken fears weighing on both of you. It’s not a question of blame—there’s no accusation in his tone. But there’s a raw vulnerability in it, as though he’s searching for an answer he doesn’t know himself. You swallow hard, struggling to find your voice again. You almost don’t want to answer. You don’t want to say the words out loud because hearing them could make this all feel too real. Too permanent. Your eyes drop to the test in his hand, the two lines mocking you like they were always meant to be there, unyielding, undeniable.

You don't know what to do. You don’t know what the right choice is, and that's the part that terrifies you the most.

“I—I don’t know,” you whisper, your voice cracking on the words. It’s the truth. You don’t know what you want. What you can want when the ground beneath you feels like it’s shifting, crumbling. But you should know, right? You know, having a kid right now is the last thing you should ever think of, especially with a boy you’ve only been dating two years. So then, why are you still hesitating?

The silence stretches long, and all you can hear is the rapid pounding of your heart, the heavy rhythm of his breath matching yours. You watch him closely, his gaze flickering between the test and your face, eyes searching, unsure. His lips press into a thin line, his jaw tightening with the weight of something neither of you wants to confront but both of you can’t avoid. For a second, he doesn’t speak, just looks at you. He seems to be considering something, maybe weighing every possible outcome, every potential consequence. Then, as if making up his mind, he shifts closer to you, his presence overwhelming, his warmth enveloping you. You didn’t expect it, but the way he steps into your space feels grounding—like he’s silently promising to bear this weight with you.

“I’ll be here,” he says, his voice quiet but firm. “Whatever you decide... I’m here. We’ll figure this out.”

His words feel like both a relief and a burden, and you can’t help the hot tears that sting your eyes as you look up at him. You want to believe him. God, you want to believe him. But there's a part of you that feels like this is the moment where everything could fall apart. The moment where reality finally crushes everything that was once easy between you two. “I don’t know if I can do this, Satoru,” you confess, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I don't even know if I want to." The weight of your words crashes down on you both. You never expected this. You never thought you’d be here, standing in front of him like this, unsure of everything.

Satoru doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he gently squeezes you tighter, his grip steady and warm. It’s all he has to offer for now. And, somehow, it’s enough. For the first time, you realize he’s not trying to force an answer out of you. He’s just... here. And for the moment, that might just be the thing you need the most.

The air feels charged, thick with unspoken promises.

Satoru takes a step closer to you, his eyes searching yours. “You don’t have to make any decisions right now,” he says, but his voice cracks at the end, and it feels like he's trying to convince himself more than he's trying to comfort you.

But you feel it in your chest—the fear, the doubt, the uncertainty of everything. “I just… I don’t know what to do,” you whisper, your breath hitching with the weight of it all. "I never thought this would happen. I never thought—god, we’re so stupid, so…so fucking stupid. If my mom finds out—"

“She’s not going to find out,” he cuts off your rambling, his hands cupping your face. A mix of uncertainty and determination is written on his face. “She…she won’t okay? You, um—you stay here until we figure things out. The guest house in the back, it’s yours for now. I’ll make up some shitty excuse to my parents, and you do the same for your mom. O-okay?”

You blink rapidly, trying to make sense of his words as they rush past you. His hands on your face are warm and grounding, but you can feel the tremble in his fingertips. His words, though filled with urgency and a bit of fear, somehow settle inside you like a strange, fleeting comfort. He’s offering you a solution, a way out of this terrifying uncertainty, and yet the weight of it still feels like it could break you at any second.

"I don’t... I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be doing, Satoru," you whisper, your voice cracking at the end. "This isn't... this isn’t how I imagined it. I can’t even look at my mom, I—" Your voice trails off, caught in the overwhelming mess of emotions swirling inside of you. The fear of disappointing her, the panic over the future, the terror of doing something you might not be able to undo.

He shakes his head, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears still trailing down your cheeks. His touch is steady and soothing in its own way. “I know, baby. I know,” he says, his voice low, as if the words themselves are meant to protect you. He presses a soft kiss to your lips. “You’re not alone in this. We’ll figure it out, okay? Together.”

But even as he says it, you can see the doubt in his eyes, the fear that lingers beneath the surface of his reassuring words. You don't know what’s worse—the fact that you two got yourselves in this predicament or the way Satoru looks at you like he’s already bracing for the worst. You want to believe him, you want to believe that this—all of this—can somehow work out, but you're not sure how to convince yourself. Satoru’s hands move from your face to your shoulders, pulling you into him, his arms wrapping around you like he’s trying to hold you together. "I won’t let you face this alone," he mutters against your hair, his voice thick with emotion. "We’ll figure this out. I don’t care how hard it gets...we’ll get through it. You and me."

For a long beat of silence, all you can do is hold onto him, the only thing you know you can rely on right now. The tears continue to fall, but this time, you don’t feel as alone. You don’t feel as scared. But the reality still sits heavy in your chest, and you can't push away the nagging feeling that nothing will be the same after tonight.

PRESENT TIME:

Satoru wakes with a small groan, the morning sunshine rays doing their duty of rousing him from a very deep sleep. The first thing he feels is an annoying crick in his neck. The second thing he feels is the reason for that crick. You lay on top of him, a cover hiding both of your bodies from the rest of the world. Your hair tickles at his nostrils, causing him to wiggle his nose a bit. Legs tangled with one another, his arms rested securely around you, one hand on the small of your back and the other on top of your ass. The way your sleeping face is positioned has made him sleep most of the night with his head turned to the left. Usually, he would’ve been annoyed. But all he feels now is a deep sense of reverie—happiness.

He lets out a wistful sigh, shifting carefully so he can get a tiny look at your face. It’s relaxed. Though there’s a small crease in between your eyebrows, and he wonders what you’re dreaming about. He spends a few more minutes just looking. In any other situation, this would’ve probably been creepy.

Technically, it still is.

But can you blame him for wanting to admire your beauty?

His thumb hovers, reaching out to soothe the skin between your eyebrows before a tiny, stifled giggle catches his attention. He looks to his left. There stands Koji, still clad in his matching pj’s. Holding his two hands to his mouth, but he can still make out the way his lips upturn at the edge, the hint of his dimple peeking out, and how his eyes crinkle with delight. His hair is messy; he must’ve just woken up.

He looks like you when you used to deny having witnessed him do something so utterly embarrassing like missing a step when walking up the stairs.

God, I’m in heaven.

“And what are you doing, huh?” Satoru asks, keeping his voice low so as to not wake you. His tone is still tinged with a raspy sleepiness, however, he still laces it with a faux annoyance at his son. “Spying on us?”

“Noooo,” Koji replies, dropping his hands to his sides. “I’m watching.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You and Mama are sleeping together.”

“We are.”

“Why?”

“Because it was too late to go home yesterday, so Mama let me stay.”

“But Mama usually sleeps in her room.”

He sighs. Damn curiosity. “She does, but things can change too sometimes.”

Koji makes an “oh” sound, nodding. He pads his tiny feet closer, craning his neck to get a look at you. His hand reaches out in an effort to touch your face, but Satoru stops him short.

“Careful, buddy. Mama’s sleeping. Will you be gentle?”

“I’ll be gentle,” Koji pouts, wiggling his hand in his father’s grasp.

“And quiet?”

Koji pauses for a moment, his tiny white brows knitting as he considers the request. “Like a ninja?” he whispers, his eyes lighting up with the excitement of his new plan.

Satoru lets out a quiet chuckle, his hand loosening just enough to allow Koji to slip his small fingers free. “Exactly like a ninja,” he says with a grin.

The little boy nods vigorously, his excitement evident in the way his body practically vibrates with energy. He tiptoes closer to the couch, his steps exaggeratedly careful as he approaches you. Satoru watches him, both proud and amused, as his son carefully reaches out, his fingertips brushing lightly against your cheek. You stir slightly at the touch, your face softening in the way it always does when Koji’s close. Koji freezes, holding his breath for a second before smiling at the success of his mission.

Satoru watches the scene unfold with warmth in his chest, his mind replaying everything that’s led to this moment—how, after everything, this is what he has now. It’s not perfect, far from it, but it feels right. He looks down at you, his heart full. He could get used to this. "Good job, ninja," Satoru whispers, his voice full of pride.

Koji beams, looking back at his father. "I didn’t wake her up."

"You didn’t," Satoru confirms, his eyes flicking back to you, your peaceful face still nestled in sleep. "Now, let’s keep it that way, okay?"

"Okay, Papa!" Koji whispers enthusiastically.

Koji climbs onto the couch, settling down on Satoru’s free side. His father sighs, playfully rolling his eyes and wrapping an arm around Koji to stabilize him. Koji watches you sleep, and they’re each lost in their own thoughts. Satoru rests his chin on top of Koji’s head, the weight of his emotions settling in quietly. Life is a bit of a mess, but moments like this? That is everything. He’s already dreading the time you wake up, plus the inevitable conversation you two will have about last night, but he’ll greedily enjoy this while it lasts.

You woke up to the sound of pots clanking together and bacon sizzling on the stove. Normally, you’d question why Satoru was up, let alone cooking for you, but after last night, it felt more like a silent offering—maybe a ‘thank you’ or an attempt at normalcy. Whatever the reason, you had more pressing matters to focus on.

Stepping outside, you lean against the cool railing of your apartment floor, phone pressed to your ear. In your free hand, you toy with the sleek black business card, running your thumb over the gold-embossed lettering. Evelyn Carlisle. The name alone carries weight. Your stomach tightens as the dial tone rings, your finger tapping anxiously against the back of your phone in sync with the robotic sound.

For a moment, you think the call won’t go through—until a woman’s voice answers, curt and businesslike.

“Who am I speaking to?”

You clear your throat, straightening up instinctively. “Uh… Y/N L/N.”

There’s typing on the other end, quick and efficient. You hear the faint sound of gum popping. “And your business for today?”

“I’m trying to reach Ms. Carlisle. She gave me this number about a job opportunity.”

A pause. More typing. You grip the railing a little tighter.

“Uh-huh,” the woman drawls, followed by the unmistakable crack of her gum. There’s another beat of silence, long enough for doubt to creep in. Did you dial the wrong number? You glance at the card again just as the woman speaks up.

“Ms. Carlisle has a meeting in thirty minutes. I’ll be redirecting you, but use your time wisely.”

You barely have time to process her words before the line clicks and the dial tone starts again—only for a familiar voice to answer almost immediately.

“Evelyn speaking.”

Your breath hitches.

“Oh, hi,” you start, trying not to sound as flustered as you feel. “This is Y/N. I’m not sure if you remember me, but you gave me your business card not too long ago…”

Evelyn doesn’t respond right away. For a split second, you think she might not remember you, but then she hums in acknowledgment. “Y/N,” she repeats your name as if testing how it sounds on her tongue. “Yes, of course. I remember you. The woman from the café.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“I wasn’t expecting your call so soon,” Evelyn continues, her voice smooth and professional. “But I’m pleased you reached out. Are you still currently employed?”

“Yes,” you answer quickly. “But… I’m looking for a change, better opportunities.”

“Good,” she says, as if that’s exactly what she wanted to hear. “Well, yes, as I mentioned briefly before, we’re currently hiring for a personal secretary position. Given the nature of our clients, discretion and adaptability are crucial. With experience in service, that tells me you may be able to handle fast-paced environments, but I’d like to know—how comfortable are you with high-profile clientele?”

High-profile. Meaning rich. Possibly powerful. Maybe even dangerous.

You grip the railing tighter, thinking about your answer. “I’m comfortable,” you say, steadying your voice. “I’ve worked with all kinds of people for many years now.”

“That’s what I gathered.” There’s the faint sound of papers shuffling on her end. “I won’t waste time with formalities. If you’re interested, I’d like you to come in for an interview. How does tomorrow sound?”

Tomorrow? So soon?

You swallow. This is happening fast—faster than you expected. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. You’ll hopefully be moved in completely within the next couple of weeks, and if you can secure this job now, that’s even better. “That works,” you say, keeping your voice even.

“Good. I’ll have my assistant send you the details. Be prepared, Y/N. This is more than just a desk job. I’ll explain everything when we meet.”

And with that, the call ends, leaving you staring at your phone. More than just a desk job? Everything seems so vague, and that doesn’t do very well to reassure you. You’ve never exactly been a secretary before, especially for a company as luxurious as this one.

Your fingers tighten around the phone as you glance down at the business card again. The elegant gold lettering seems to mock you, reminding you that this isn’t just some ordinary job opportunity. You’ve worked in fast-paced environments before, dealt with demanding customers, and handled your fair share of stress—but this feels different. More exclusive. More… intense.

What exactly does she mean by more than just a desk job?

A part of you wonders if you should be cautious, if maybe this isn’t the right move. But then you think about your dwindling savings, the past bills stacking up, the debt collectors calling nonstop, and Koji’s future. Stability is a luxury you can’t afford to second-guess.

With a deep breath, you tuck the card away and turn back toward your apartment. Whatever this job entails, you’ll find out soon enough. But for now, you have a morning to get through.

You step back into the apartment, closing the door behind you. Koji is in the living room, playing with his action figurines and little playhouse. Glancing to the left, Satoru is washing your dishes. He must’ve cleaned up in the short time you’ve been outside. The sight is domestic—cute, even. You did always have a thing for men doing household chores.

With a determined nod, you walk over, standing beside him, ensuring your voice is not too loud for the nosy child to hear. “Thanks for the food. You didn’t have to.”

Satoru glances up at you with a soft smile, a dish towel draped over his shoulder. His movements are fluid, like he’s done this countless times before, even though he’s far from being a regular guest in your home. “No problem,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a light, teasing edge. “Figured I’d help out after crashing your place all night.”

You nod, your arms folding across your chest. “I didn’t ask you to. But…” You hesitate for a moment before continuing, your gaze drifting back to Koji, who’s deeply engrossed in his playtime. “It was… nice.”

He looks over at Koji, too, before focusing back on you, his expression unreadable for a second. Then, that familiar smirk of his appears. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress the small smile tugging at your lips. “You don’t have to try so hard to be charming, you know. It’s a little much.”

He chuckles, the sound light but genuine. “I’ll tone it down for his sake.” His eyes flicker toward Koji again before meeting yours. “But seriously, if you ever need help, just ask. I can’t exactly be around all the time, but I can make myself useful when I am.”

A small part of you wants to brush it off, to remind him of the boundaries between you, but the other part of you—the part that’s constantly stressed about everything and everyone—feels comforted by the offer. Not to mention, you two have already crossed said boundaries in just the span of a night. You nod once more, slower. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He gives you a quick, half-hearted salute, returning to the dishes with a hum. The atmosphere between you two is light and easy, but there’s something heavier hanging in the air. The space between your words says a lot more than either of you care to admit.

Satoru clears his throat, breaking the silence that was settled too thick. “So… what’s next for you today?” he asks, clearly trying to keep things casual.

You consider the question for a moment, still distracted by the thoughts swirling in your head about the job opportunity and everything that comes with it. “Nothing much. I guess just prepare for a meeting I have tomorrow,” you finally reply, your voice steady but the unease barely hidden. “With someone who could… offer me a job.”

Satoru glances at you over his shoulder. “A job, huh?” His tone is light but curious, and you can’t tell if it’s genuine or just his usual flippant nature.

“Yeah,” you reply, your gaze flicking back to Koji. “It’s nothing permanent, yet. Just something to help out.”

Satoru doesn’t respond immediately. You can feel his eyes on you, but when you look back, he’s already back to the dishes, like he’s trying to give you space without making things awkward. Still, there’s a noticeable tension in his shoulders—something he’s not letting show.

Which reminds you…

“Hey, so…” you start off, fidgeting with your fingers. “I have a little question for you.”

“Mhm?” He hums, turning the sink off and drying his hands, body facing you now as he gives you his full attention.

You tilt your head, a little unsure of how to bring this topic up. “The company it’s for, it’s called Carlisle & Harlow. Have you heard of it?” Play dumb, play dumb.

He blinks, then nods. “Yeah, I have. Why?”

“Well, I was looking through their website and saw they’ve been in partnership with the Gojo Group for a good few years now.”

“They have been.”

You bite your lip. His nonchalance is annoying you a little bit, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s feeding you just the right amount of information on purpose. Maybe he knows something you don’t? “Well, she—Evelyn—approached me during my shift a while back and gave me her business card. That’s how I got this opportunity in the first place.”

His hands reside in his pockets, eyebrows raising with a small hum. “Wow, that sounds like a lucky offer.” His tone is light, like he’s trying to make a small joke. You make a noncommittal chuckle, eyeing his reactions.

But he’s giving you nothing.

Maybe you really were just being superstitious about this all.

“It’s just…it seemed a little too good to be true, you know? Almost like someone put in a good word for me.”

You force a small laugh, hoping the remark can ease him into revealing a possible clue. However, you start thinking to yourself: Would it be better to know that Satoru played a part in getting you a job with his business partner? Would that make you feel more inadequate of your own abilities? Would it just lead to another argument about him doing something without considering your feelings first? Or would you rather be left in the dark?

Satoru’s eyes meet yours again, but this time, there’s a flicker of something you can’t quite place. He leans back against the counter, his posture relaxed, though there’s a quiet tension in the way he watches you. For a second, it feels like he’s weighing something in his mind. “You’re a hard worker,” he says, his voice still light but with a hint of something deeper, like he’s carefully choosing his words. “I don’t think you need someone to put in a good word for you. If you’re getting an offer like that, it’s because you’re capable. Simple as that.”

You nod, your eyes lingering on him, not quite convinced by the simplicity of his answer. But he’s always been the type to brush things off with a smile, to make everything seem like it’s no big deal. Still, there’s that nagging feeling at the back of your mind, the thought that he knows more than he’s letting on. Maybe he didn’t have a hand in it. Or maybe he did, and he’s just not ready to tell you because he knows you better than anyone else.

You’ll take things at a surface level—for now.

“I guess,” you mutter, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “But it still feels… a little too perfect, you know? I mean, why me? Of all people?”

Satoru’s smile softens a little, and there’s a quiet intensity in the way he looks at you now. He steps closer, closing the distance just enough that you can feel the heat of his presence. For just a split second, your heart skips a beat, but you quickly brush it off. “Maybe it’s just your time,” he says softly, his voice low, like he’s trying to soothe you. “Sometimes, things just fall into place when they’re supposed to.”

You nod again, though it doesn’t really make you feel any better. It’s just too easy, too convenient, like someone’s pulling strings behind the scenes. But you can’t quite figure out who. Or why.

Silence follows, and you practically force yourself to tear your eyes away from him because you can already feel the magnetic pull they have on you. You clear your throat, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Well,” you say, forcing a lightness into your tone, “guess I’ll find out soon enough.”

Satoru hums, but he doesn’t say anything else. He’s watching you again, that unreadable look back in his eyes, and you hate how easily it makes your stomach twist. You should be used to this by now—the way he always seems to see right through you, the way his presence alone makes you feel like you’re standing too close to a flame.

And, of course, there’s still the silent, lingering question of when you two will discuss what happened last night. However, even saying that question out loud makes you nervous—guilty even. Like you’re coming to terms with the fact that you did something you know wasn’t the best thing. It complicates things even more, and you distinctly remember him saying something along those lines to you a while back—back when you tried kissing him.

You’re feeling the embarrassment all over again. But the embarrassment starts turning to fascination when your eyes rove over the way his shirt fits so perfectly around his waist—his biceps. He opted for just putting on one of the old shirts you still had of his from years ago, waving off your protests of how it hasn’t been washed.

Black does look sexy on him.

And if you look closer, you can even make out the slight perkiness of his—

“We should head out soon.” Satoru’s voice snaps you back into reality. “Got to drop off the donation stuff in the car and head to my place to grab some of Koji’s things.”

“Right, right,” you respond, a little breathlessly, shaking your head free of lewd thoughts. “I’ll go get ready.” You turn on your heel, eager to put some distance between yourself and the weight of his gaze. It’s frustrating—the way he manages to make you feel so self-conscious without even trying. It's almost like he’s waiting for you to bring it up first, like he knows you won’t.

The moment you step into your bedroom, you let out a slow exhale, pressing your palms against the dresser. Get it together. Last night happened. You can’t stop thinking about it. You can’t change it. But you can control how you handle it moving forward. You two are grown adults who can hash out their shit maturely and respectfully. You rummage through your drawers, pulling out something casual but presentable. Something that makes you feel like yourself—whoever that is these days. As you slip on your shoes, you hear the faint sound of Koji’s laughter from the other room, followed by Satoru’s easygoing voice, and it tugs at something in your chest.

This fragile balance you’ve built—it’s dangerous, isn’t it? Because every time he fits so seamlessly into your life, it becomes harder to remember why he shouldn’t.

That thought stays with you longer than you’d like. It lingers as you pull your coat on, as you grab your bag, as you catch your reflection in the mirror before heading out. There’s something unsettling about the way things feel almost… natural with him again. Like muscle memory, like something you once knew by heart but tried to forget.

Now, if that isn’t the truth.

You step back into the living room, and Satoru is crouched beside Koji, helping him tie his tiny sneakers. His voice is light, patient, as he guides him through the motions, and Koji is beaming up at him like he’s the whole world, nodding along to his father’s explanation of the great process of tying your own shoelaces.

It makes your throat tighten.

Satoru looks up just then, like he can feel your eyes on him, and for a second, neither of you speaks. There’s an understanding there, something unspoken but felt. Then, he straightens up, brushing invisible dust from his pants. “You ready?” he asks, voice even.

You step closer. “Yeah.”

Koji cheers, raising his arms as Satoru effortlessly lifts him, settling him against his hip. It’s so natural, so easy, and you hate that your heart aches at the sight. How you start imagining how it would’ve been coming home to Satoru holding an infant version of Koji.

It is dangerous.

And yet, you still follow them out the door.

Your smile doesn’t feel forced as it slowly creeps its way onto your face. You don’t flinch away from the hovering of his hand on the small of your back as he guides you to his parked car. Maybe it’s just the fact that it’s a nice, sunny day out. Or, the more optimistic side of you, believes that it’s a possibility that maybe things don’t have to be as complicated as you make them out to be. That for once, you can just exist in this moment without thinking too hard about what it means.

The drive to Satoru’s place offers you enough time to sit back on your current decisions and more so, trying to decipher whether or not he was just lying to your face. Because no matter how smoothly he played it off earlier, there was something about his reaction that didn’t sit right with you. The way he barely blinked at the mention of Carlisle & Harlow. The way he didn’t seem surprised at all. Almost like he already knew. You glance at him from the passenger seat. He’s focused on the road, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting lazily on the gear shift. Sunglasses perched on his nose, shielding his eyes, making it impossible to read him. Maybe it’s best not to dwell on things and just enjoy the opportunities that have been cast your way.

Before you know it, he’s parked and carrying Koji out his car seat, plopping him down onto the ground and holding his hand while he leads you two up the way to his penthouse, a route that’s becoming vaguely familiar to you now.

You’ve already dropped off boxes of donations to your local thrift store in order to make enough space to fit whatever was left at his place into his car. Inside the elevator, Koji chatters excitedly about something—you’re not entirely paying attention—his small hand still wrapped securely in Satoru’s. The sight of them together, so natural and effortless, is something you’re still working toward getting used to. Your mind wanders to six months ago, fascinated just over how much things have changed. For the better, yes. But there are also some things or people you wish hadn’t entered your life. You keep your eyes trained on the ascending floor numbers, trying not to let your mind spiral. It’s too easy to overthink, to read into every little thing, to get caught up in what-ifs and maybes. But as you steal another glance at Satoru—still effortlessly cool, still impossible to read—you can’t help but wonder if you’re the only one doing that.

When the elevator chimes, doors sliding open, Koji tugs on Satoru’s hand eagerly, practically bouncing on his feet. “Can I see the big TV again?”

Satoru chuckles, ruffling his hair. “Yeah, buddy. I’ll put on whatever you want.”

You exhale softly, following them down the hall and inside his place. It still looks the same, you haven’t been here since you slept over.

The familiarity of it all unnerves you. The faint scent of his cologne still lingers in the air, mixing with something warm—probably the remnants of whatever coffee he drinks. The living room is neat, save for a few stray items Koji must’ve left behind during his last visit. A toy car sits near the edge of the coffee table, a small sweater draped over the back of the couch. It’s the kind of lived-in mess that makes the space feel less like a showroom and more like… a home.

You hesitate in the doorway for a moment before stepping inside, watching as Koji makes himself comfortable, already climbing onto the couch, eyes lighting up as Satoru turns on the massive flat-screen TV.

“Want anything to drink?” Satoru asks, his voice casual, as if you’ve done this a hundred times before.

You shake your head. “I’m good.

He nods, but his eyes linger on you for a second longer than necessary, like he’s waiting for you to say something more. Maybe you should. Maybe you should bring up what happened the last time you were here. Rip the bandage off before it festers into something worse. But instead, you cross your arms, glancing toward the hallway.

“I’ll, um, start packing up Koji’s things,” you say, shifting the conversation elsewhere.

Satoru doesn’t argue, just hums in agreement before following you toward the spare bedroom, where most of Koji’s stuff is still tucked away. “There’s a couple things in my room too, I’ll come help after I’ve put his show on.”

“Got it.” You shrug off your jacket and turn around, walking down the long hallway and into the room where your son’s toys reside.

The room is neatly organized but still carrying traces of Koji’s presence. His small clothes are folded in the drawers, and one of his favorite stuffed animals is sitting on the bed like it’s waiting for him to return. You let out a quiet sigh as you step inside, running a hand over the soft fabric of his tiny hoodie.

This shouldn’t feel so strange. You should be used to this by now—the quiet moments, the back and forth between two spaces. But standing here, gathering your son’s things from a place that feels more and more like a second home, there’s a weight in your chest that you can’t quite shake.

You hear Satoru’s footsteps before you see him. He leans against the doorway, arms crossed loosely over his chest, watching you with that unreadable expression of his.

“You alright?” he asks after a beat.

You force a small smile, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”

He hums, pushing off the doorframe and stepping further into the room. “Thinking about?”

You hesitate. Because how do you explain this feeling—the unease of being in limbo, of not knowing where you stand with him, of feeling like you’re caught in a current you can’t control?

Instead, you opt for something easier. “Just how much stuff he has,” you say, motioning to the half-packed bag on the bed. “I swear it multiplies when I’m not looking.”

Satoru chuckles, crouching down to help you pack. “Yeah, well, that’s kids for you.”

You work in silence for a while, folding clothes, stuffing small toys into the bag. It’s easy—too easy, the way you move together in sync, like you’ve done this a thousand times before.

And maybe that’s what scares you the most.

“He doesn’t even stay here that much, and he has so many things. Maybe I should donate some of these toys, he doesn’t use them anymore,” you comment, picking up a figurine from one of his favorite TV shows he hasn’t watched recently.

Satoru glances at the toy in your hand before shrugging. “You could, but you know how kids are. The second you give it away, he’ll suddenly remember it’s his favorite.”

You huff a small laugh, rolling the figurine between your fingers before setting it aside. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

He zips up one of the bags, sitting back on his heels. “If it makes you feel better, it’s not that bad. Koji having a bunch of stuff here just means he’s comfortable, yeah?”

You pause at that, fingers lingering over the next item you’re about to pack. It’s such a simple statement, but something about it makes your chest tighten. Koji is comfortable here. He has space here. Enough for his clothes, his toys, his laughter to fill the rooms. And maybe, a quiet part of you wonders, that’s why it’s starting to feel like you do, too. You shake the thought away, focusing on finishing up the packing. “I guess that’s true. But I still think I need to cut down on the clutter. When we get to the new place, I really want to emphasize cleaning with him.”

Satoru smirks. “Good luck. Just don’t expect me to help if he throws a tantrum about his missing toys.”

You roll your eyes, nudging his arm playfully. “Some protector you are.”

He grins, the easy warmth of the moment settling between you. But underneath it, there’s still that lingering feeling—that nagging question you’re not ready to ask. And finally, after more minutes of pure silence and bags rustling, you decide to bite the bullet. Your lips pursed with a big sigh escaping you, turning to face him wordlessly. He feels your gaze and simultaneously looks over.

Just do it, before you pussy out.

“Look, I—” you scratch your neck. “I really don’t…like all this weird tension between us. And it seemed we came to a good agreement yesterday. But I…I just want to know if—if what happened between us…changed anything.”

Satoru's expression flickers—just for a second. So quick that if you hadn’t been watching him so closely, you might’ve missed it. But you don’t. You see the way his fingers pause in their movements, the slight shift in his posture, like he’s bracing himself. Then, just as quickly, he exhales, a slow, measured sound as he leans back on his hands, tilting his head slightly. “Changed anything, huh?” he repeats, almost like he’s testing the words on his tongue.

You nod, throat tight. “Yeah.”

Another beat of silence. And then, “Did you want it to?”

Your stomach twists. Because he’s throwing the question back at you, forcing you to answer first. Classic Satoru. Never giving anything away unless he absolutely has to. But the way that question has heat pooling in your stomach, like he’s testing the waters, just barely revealing his true thoughts, it makes you wonder if it has changed things for him.

You shift awkwardly, arms crossing over your chest. “I—I don’t know.” It’s the truth, as frustrating as it is. “I just… I don’t want things to get complicated.”

Satoru lets out a small, humorless chuckle. “Too late for that, don’t you think?”

Your chest tightens, but you hold his gaze. “I just need to know where we stand, Satoru.”

Something in his expression changes then. Softens, just a little. He exhales through his nose, sitting up straighter. “We’re still us,” he says finally, his voice quieter than before. “Whatever that means.”

“I need a better answer than that,” you admit. “We’re supposed to be doing this for Koji, not our own selfish desires. I want to be on an equal playing field with you, but we can’t have that if we’re….ya know.”

Satoru watches you carefully, his gaze sharp beneath the shadow of his lashes. You’re asking for clarity, a definitive line in the sand, and yet… you don’t even know what you want the answer to be. His lips press into a thin line, tongue running over his teeth as he considers his response. “So what, you think we’re being selfish?” His voice is even, but there’s something unreadable lurking beneath it.

You exhale, shaking your head. “I think this—whatever it is—could make things messy. And Koji is the most important thing in all of this.”

Satoru hums, rubbing his palm over his chin in thought. “And what if I said I don’t think it changes anything?”

You frown. “How can you say that?”

“Because it’s the truth,” he says simply. “You and I? We’ve been complicated from the start. One night doesn’t change the fact that we’re still trying to figure things out. It doesn’t change that I want to be in Koji’s life—or yours, for that matter.”

Your breath hitches slightly, and you hate the way your pulse flutters at his words. “Satoru…”

He leans forward then, resting his elbows on his knees. “I don’t know what you want me to say. That it meant nothing? That I regret it? I won’t, because that’d be a lie. But I also know we can’t afford to lose sight of what really matters.”

You swallow thickly, fingers tightening around the fabric of your shirt. It’s not a declaration of love, not some grand confession, but it’s honest. And that almost feels a tad bit worse.

He sighs, raking a hand through his snowy hair. “Look, if you want to draw a line, I’ll respect it. If you want to figure this out, I’ll meet you halfway. But I won’t pretend like nothing happened, and I sure as hell won’t act like I don’t care.”

His words sit heavy between you, the weight of them pressing into your chest. The choice, as much as you hate it, is yours. That should be a good thing, right? He should be letting you take control, steering your “relationship” into wherever the hell you want it. But the pressure of it all feels more drowning by the second. “What about Himari? What happens when she finds out?”

Satoru's jaw tightens just slightly, the only visible crack in his composure. He exhales through his nose, tipping his head back against the wall, as if trying to gather his thoughts before speaking. “What about her?” he finally says, voice low.

You blink, momentarily caught off guard by his casual response, confused. “What do you mean, what about her? She’s your girlfriend, Satoru.”

His fingers tap idly against his knee, a slow rhythm, measured. “She and I… it’s complicated.”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “Sounds like your favorite word.”

Satoru huffs out a quiet laugh, but there’s no real amusement behind it. “Maybe. But it’s the truth.” He turns his head to look at you then, eyes sharp. “You think I don’t know how messy this is? That I don’t realize what this means? But you keep asking me where we stand, and I’m trying to tell you—we’ve never been simple, and I don’t think we ever will be.”

“But what if I just want to be simple for once?”

“Then we can try.”

We. Your throat feels tight. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

Satoru watches you for a moment before sighing, dragging a hand down his face. “When—if—Himari finds out, I’ll handle it.”

There’s a finality in his tone that makes your stomach churn. Your eyebrows furrow, pushing for more. “Handle it how?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze flickering away for a second before landing back on you. “You don’t need to worry about her.”

That should bring you some relief, but instead, it just unsettles you further. Because deep down, you know Himari will find out eventually. And when she does, the consequences won’t be something either of you can just walk away from. You run your hands through your hair, shaking your head as you stand to your feet. “I’ll go get the rest of the stuff from your room.”

Satoru doesn’t stop you as you step around him, making your way down the hall toward his bedroom. But you can feel his eyes on you, watching your retreating figure, like he wants to say something but chooses not to. The air in his room is cool, the faint scent of his cologne still lingering in the space. Koji’s things are tucked neatly in the corner: some folded clothes, a few toys, his favorite blanket. You bend down, gathering them into your arms, but your mind is still racing.

What happens when Himari finds out?

Satoru’s words replay in your head. You don’t need to worry about her.

But you do worry. How can you not? Satoru might not think much of it now, but Himari isn’t just going to sit back and accept this. She’s from his world—a world that doesn’t take kindly to secrets or betrayal. And whether you like it or not, you’ve just stepped right back into it.

You hear the sound of glass crunching under your shoe, which momentarily halts your running mind. Peering down slowly, you remove your shoe from the shards. The sight you’re met with makes your mouth dry instantly, stomach dropping. A picture stares up at you. But not just any picture. The one of you and your son on one Christmas back then, the same picture you specifically remember framing before wrapping it into a small gift for him.

Then why is it on the floor?

Why is the glass of the frame broken?

Why is the picture itself dirtied, the mark of a footprint staining right on top of your face, the side with your son crumpled?

You look up, a disbelieving scoff sounding from you. You’re then met with the sight of his king-sized bed. But the sheets are all rumpled, the pillows thrown about. And if you focus hard enough, there are a few noticeable stains that could really only mean one thing.

You look between the bed, the picture on the ground, the bed, the picture, the bed, the picture, and before you know it, you’re calling him in. “Satoru.”

No response.

“Satoru!”

Heavy footsteps echo down the hall before he appears at the doorframe, his expression unreadable. “What?” he says, though there’s something in his voice—something hesitant, wary.

You bend down, picking up the shattered frame, holding it up for him to see. “Care to explain this?” Your voice is tight, barely holding back the storm brewing inside you.

His eyes widen, brows furrowing as he steps forward, blue eyes flickering between the picture in your hands and the mess of his bed. Then, something shifts in his face—realization, maybe, or something darker. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair.

“T-That’s all you have to say?” You let out a disbelieving laugh, shaking your head. “This was a gift. A gift, Satoru.” Your fingers tighten around the cracked edges of the frame. “And it’s stomped on. Crumpled. What the fuck happened?”

He exhales sharply, shoulders tensing. “I don’t know. I didn’t—” He stops himself, jaw clenching. “I didn’t do that.”

“You didn’t do it?” you repeat back, incredulousness in your voice. “That’s the excuse you’re coming up with?”

He stays quiet, a look of confusion and anger present on his face. But for some reason, it’s only making you even more pissed. You scoff and push past him, but he grabs your arm. “Y/N, I’m serious. I didn’t do this.”

“Then who did?” You attempt to yank your arm back, glaring up at him with eyes of fury. “I–I gave you this as a gift. I did this for you, I—and you just treat it like it’s nothing? How could you?”

Satoru’s grip tightens on your arm as you try to pull away, his eyes not meeting yours as he steps closer. His expression shifts again, like he's processing something, but it’s not a calm reaction—it’s frustration, maybe guilt, and it's doing nothing to calm the storm inside you. “Y/N,” he says, his voice lower now, like he's trying to de-escalate the situation. "I didn’t stomp on it. I didn’t break the frame. You think I would do that?” He doesn’t let go of you, but the way his thumb rubs over your wrist is almost soothing—almost, but it doesn't make the anger fade.

“You didn’t do it. Then who the hell did?” you snap, tugging your arm again, but his grip holds firm.

He exhales sharply, his chest rising and falling with the effort to keep himself calm. He opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, then closes it again, his hand falling from your wrist as if he’s choosing his words carefully, but you’re not in the mood for careful right now. The room is thick with tension, and you can barely stand to be near him, especially when his presence is only making everything feel more complicated.

“Maybe you didn’t do it,” you say, your voice shaking with suppressed rage, "but something about this—this situation—it doesn’t…."

He looks at you for a long moment, then seems to give in, running a hand over his face as if tired. “I don’t know what’s going on, Y/N. I swear, I didn’t touch the damn picture. Please just listen to what I’m telling you, I didn’t—.”

“Then who did?!” You swiftly cut him off.

He exhales deeply, trying to tone down the situation. “...I don’t know for sure. But I think I do.”

You bite your lip, your fingers still wrapped tightly around the broken frame, your heart pounding. “You think, you think?” You shake your head, momentarily looking up. “You’re the one who keeps making things more complicated,” you reply softly, glaring at the crumpled picture again, the smile you once wore in it now tainted with every bit of the hurt you feel.

Satoru’s face softens, but the regret doesn’t make you feel any better. If anything, it only makes everything more confusing. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he mutters, though it doesn’t exactly reach your heart.

You set the frame down carefully on the dresser, not trusting yourself to hold it any longer. “Then why does it feel like you’re always doing it, even when you’re not trying to?”

Satoru stays quiet for a long moment, looking between the bed and the shattered picture, the distance between you growing as the weight of everything hung heavy in the air. His lips twitch, as if he’s about to say something else—but you don’t need more words right now. You need actions.

“Just fix it,” you finally whisper, your voice raw. "I can't do this anymore, Satoru."

You turn to exit the room, feeling hot tears sting behind your eyes. You barely make it two steps before he’s once again hauling you back to him, cupping your cheeks in his hands, and delivering a sweet, but firm kiss to your lips. He swallows your surprised squeak. However, it’s short-lived, and you didn’t even have the chance to reciprocate. He pulls back, looking down at your widened eyes with his own set of determination. Leaning down to rest his forehead against yours and you almost hate the way you tilt your head up, a sad attempt to chase after his lips.

“I'll fix things. For us.”

The lights above cast a soft glow, but nothing about the setting seems to calm the sharp edges of her demeanor. Himari is flanked by assistants, one adjusting the hem of a sleek, modern black dress while another fusses with her hair, tugging at the strands to give them more volume. But Himari’s patience is thin, and her mouth, a thin line of frustration, shows no sign of softening. She pulls at the fabric around her waist, glaring at the assistant. "This doesn’t look right. It’s too tight here,” she snaps, voice laced with annoyance.

The assistant hesitates, clearly uncomfortable with her tone, but follows her orders. "We can adjust it, Ms. Nakamura, just a few more minutes."

“No," she cuts in sharply. "I told you last time. I don't like anything that pinches or restricts me.” She lifts her hand, a clear signal that she’s done with the discussion. “Start over. I’m not going out like this.”

The assistant stammers out an apology and steps back, fidgeting with her fingers as she goes to fetch another dress from the rack. Himari’s eyes shift to the mirror before her, taking in the sharp lines of her reflection—perfect, poised, and controlled. It’s the version of herself she’s always put forward, a product of her family’s brand, her father's influence, and the high standards that come with it.

Her gaze flickers briefly to the phone on the nearby counter, buzzing with an incoming message. Her eyes narrow slightly as she sees the name. Gojo. A smirk plays at the edge of her lips, but it's cold and calculating. She’s been holding her ground, making sure that he knows she’s still here, still the one in control. Yet, a small, insidious part of her can't help but feel a twinge of unease, something she won’t admit even to herself.

“I should be the one to get everything right, not them,” she mutters under her breath, frustrated, as she adjusts herself in front of the mirror. The moment passes, but the irritation lingers in her sharp expression.

She has half a mind to just throw a fit in the middle of the studio, no matter what other pompous bitch is here for the same reason she is. Everyone here should know by now that when Himari visits, there’s no time for screw-ups. She whips out her red lipstick, reapplying some in the mirror just as the assistant and stylist come back. Himari’s eyes flicker over the mirror as she reapplies her lipstick with deliberate, steady strokes, her fingers so controlled it’s almost an art form. She’s not looking at herself, not truly. She’s too busy calculating—how she can assert her dominance here, how she can make everyone bend to her will.

The assistant and stylist stand quietly in the corner, their movements hesitant, trying not to disturb the storm brewing in Himari’s gaze. The silence between them stretches, thick with tension, before Himari finally breaks it.

"You should have known better," she snaps, voice sharp as a blade. "I’m not here to babysit, I’m here to be seen, and seen perfectly. Do you get that?" Her tone makes it clear there’s no room for mistakes. The weight of her presence, her reputation, presses down on the studio like a vice.

The assistant tries to salvage the situation, taking a few cautious steps forward. "I’m terribly sorry, Ms. Nakamura, we just—"

"No excuses," Himari interrupts, eyes flicking to the stylist, who’s now stepping forward with a different outfit. "This had better be right. If you can't get it together, I’ll find someone who knows how to make me look good."

The stylist immediately holds up the new dress, his fingers trembling slightly. "This one is different, I made sure the adjustments were perfect this time."

Himari doesn’t even look at him, just taps her finger on the counter impatiently. "Put it on me, then. I don’t have all day to waste here."

The assistant exchanges a quick glance with the stylist before moving to remove the current dress from Himari. The whole room feels like it’s walking on eggshells now, every movement a little too slow, too careful, as if they’re afraid to provoke her. Himari watches it all unfold, satisfaction curling in the corner of her lips. She relishes in this—being the center of attention, holding the power. But under all the poise and control, there’s that small, gnawing voice. The one that wonders if her grasp on Gojo’s attention is starting to slip, even if only slightly. She pushes it down quickly, focusing on the next move. The game isn’t over. Not yet.

“Shit!” she gasps, pushing away the stylist. “You just pricked me, you idiot!”

The stylist stumbles back, his face paling as he fumbles with the needle in his hand. "I-I’m so sorry, Ms. Nakamura," he stammers, eyes wide with fear. "It was an accident, I—"

“An accident?” Himari hisses, her voice sharp with venom. She reaches up to press a finger to the small puncture mark on her arm, staring at him like he’s the source of all her frustration. "You people can’t even do the simplest things right." Her voice oozes contempt as she glares at the poor man, who is frozen in place.

The assistant, clearly distressed, starts to panic. "Please, just let me get you something to stop the bleeding—"

“I don’t need your help!” Himari snaps, her eyes narrowing. She turns away from them both, walking toward the mirror. "Just fix the damn dress, and keep your hands away from me. If you mess up again, I’ll have your job. Do you understand me?"

The stylist, his hands shaking now, nods vigorously. "Yes, of course. I’ll be more careful."

She sneers at his response before looking at herself in the mirror, rubbing her arm as if the sting of the prick is the least of her concerns. But deep down, there’s a simmering unease, a feeling of being off that she can’t quite shake. Everything has to be perfect, especially today. She’s had enough of feeling like things are slipping through her fingers.

She fixes her gaze back on the assistant and stylist. "I’m not leaving here until I look flawless. Fix it. Now."

The assistant and stylist exchange nervous glances before scrambling to comply, working as quickly as possible to avoid the wrath of the woman who could ruin their careers with a single word. Himari watches them with a predatory calmness.

“Such a shame my father pays you,” she scoffs, eyebrow raising as the stylist kneels by her side to focus on the hem.

The stylist’s hands tremble as he adjusts the fabric of her dress, trying to avoid eye contact. "I'm just doing my job, Ms. Nakamura," he murmurs, not daring to look up from his task.

Himari rolls her eyes dramatically, letting out a sharp sigh. "Your job is to make sure I look perfect, not to give me excuses." She takes a step back, examining herself in the mirror again, as if she can already sense the imperfection of the dress lingering in the air. "But I suppose that’s what happens when you hire amateurs desperate for dimes and nickels."

The assistant, sensing her frustration, hurries over, offering a forced smile. "We’re doing our best, Himari. The fit will be flawless in no time."

Himari doesn’t even glance at them. She crosses her arms, her lips pressed into a tight, thin line. "Best? Best doesn’t even come close. Don’t make me regret bringing my business here."

The assistant’s face flushes, but he keeps his voice steady. "Of course, Ms. Nakamura. We’ll make sure it’s exactly what you want."

Her gaze shifts from her reflection back to the stylist, who looks like he might crumble under the pressure. "You should be thankful my father is paying for this. He could have gone elsewhere, but he chose you. Don’t waste his generosity." Her voice drips with sarcasm as she smirks, watching the man scramble to finish his work. The tension in the room thickens, and for a moment, it feels like the entire studio is holding its breath, waiting for her next move.

“Mr. Gojo! It’s nice to see you again.”

The name snaps her out of her stupor in the blink of an eye, and she whirls around. Oh, he looks so sexy today. Satoru doesn’t even bother greeting the worker who called out, his steely gaze focused solely on her. Usually, she would’ve been flattered, joyous even that she’s being spared the accurate amount of attention she so desperately needs. But today feels different.

He feels different, looks different.

“Satoru,” Himari puts on a charming smile, nonchalantly pushing the stylist to the side, holding her arms out. “You’re here, you didn’t tell me you were comi—”

“What the fuck did you do?” his cold voice startles her, his hands pushing her inviting embrace away with not much of a care.

Himari blinks, tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear. She gulps and shakes her head. “I…what are you talking about, Satoru?”

“Don’t play dumb right now, because I have zero patience for you,” he cooly grits back out.

The studio quiets, the stylist and tailor awkwardly going silent at the public display of an argument between their client and her boyfriend. The two look away, though that’s not saying much. Himari’s lip trembles, biting down on it. “Satoru, I really don’t know—”

“You come into my place, you trash my bed, and then you leave the evidence all over the floor.” Satoru steps closer, invading her personal space. She’s forced to take a small step back, wide eyes staring back up at the man who’s looking at her like she’s worth nothing more than gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe. That thought angers her more than she’d like to admit. “I let you get away with a lot of things, Himari. A lot. More than I should. So why shouldn’t I have you arrested for breaking and entering?”

Himari gasps, eyebrows shooting up. “W-what?! You’d never.”

“Keep trying me, and I will.”

Her face pales, her throat tightening as a mix of guilt and frustration rises within her. “You can’t—no, you’re being ridiculous. That frame… it’s just a thing! A stupid, insignificant thing of you and that—that leech!” She forces a laugh, though it sounds hollow and brittle. “You’re making a mountain out of a molehill. It’s not like I—”

“Not like you what?” Gojo steps forward again, closing the space between them. His towering figure looms over her, eyes locked with hers, piercing through her, tilting his head. “Not like you’re jealous? Because from where I stand…” he leans his neck down, voice lowering, “it looks like you’re trying to erase the one thing you’ll never be."

Himari’s breath catches in her throat, her eyes flashing with anger, but her lips remain tight. The words he’s throwing at her feel like daggers, each one sharper than the last. She doesn’t want to admit it—doesn’t even want to acknowledge it—but the sting of his words is undeniable.

She forces herself to stand tall, pushing down the fluttering in her chest. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she spits, a slight tremor in her voice betraying her. “You think I’m jealous of her?” The words come out in a cruel laugh, but it’s weak. A façade. “Please. She’s nothing. You should’ve let her rot in impoverished obscurity. I never wanted anything to do with her.”

Satoru’s eyes narrow, his posture unwavering. “But you still do, don’t you? You can’t stand that she’s still a part of my life. That she’s always going to be a part of it.”

The silence that follows is thick with tension, suffocating in its intensity. Himari’s chest rises and falls with quickened breaths, her fingers flexing at her sides. The reality of the situation is dawning on her—this isn’t about a broken picture frame. It never was. This is about something deeper, something she refuses to confront. The jealousy she’s spent so long hiding. The truth she’s tried so hard to bury. She forces a smile, trying to mask her vulnerability with arrogance. “You think I’m scared of her, Satoru? You think she matters to me? She’s just some pathetic little woman you got caught up with. A mistake you’re too proud to admit. But I will be the one who gets everything you’ve worked for. I’ll be the one standing beside you. I’m the one you chose, remember?”

Her words feel empty, hollow. She doesn’t believe them anymore. And Satoru knows it.

He steps back, his expression unchanged, cold and calculating. “If you’re so sure of that, Himari, then why don’t you start acting like it? Because right now, you look like a jealous little girl throwing a tantrum. And I’m done with it.”

Her breath catches again, and for a moment, she feels small. Smaller than she ever wanted to feel. Her fingers twitch with the need to lash out, but the weight of his words keeps her still. He’s right. Her limbs shake.

“You’ll never be her,” Satoru adds, his voice low, almost pitying. “And that’s something you’ll have to live with.”

Himari’s eyes flash with something unreadable, and for a second, the mask she’s worn for so long falters. But she quickly regains control, lifting her chin with a defiant snarl. “I’ll make you regret this, Gojo. I’ll make you regret ever even meeting me with the shit I’ll send your way if you do this to me.”

Satoru doesn’t flinch, doesn’t react. He simply turns on his heel, walking toward the door. “You already are,” he says over his shoulder, the words hanging in the air between them like a final nail in the coffin.

Her breath hitches, fingers curling into her palms. “C-Come back here….you’re—you’re not doing this! You’re not breaking up with me, Satoru! You’re not! I won’t allow it!”

But he says nothing, continuing to walk, and then, he’s gone.

Himari stands there, rooted to the spot, the silence around her deafening. The anger, the humiliation, the fear—they all swirl inside her, a storm she can’t control. But beneath it all, there’s something else. Something she won’t dare admit.

She’s lost him.

A gut-wrenching scream sounds out through the floor, with employees flinching. The stylist and assistant cover their ears, grimacing and not even daring to look her way.

But the reaction of a white haired woman, holding back a laugh, differs from all. Looking at herself in the floor-length mirror, the elegant, silk purple dress was not nearly as satisfying as the dramatic scene she had just witnessed. She’s glad she decided to indulge this very fine afternoon.

Things are getting good, she thinks to herself, pressing the button on her phone to stop the voice recording.

Very good.

a/n: i’ll be releasing the first chapter of the levi fic after this. everyone who has commented to be on the taglist, u have been noted lol (i swear im not ignoring). anyway, hope u guys enjoyedddd :)

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dwarf-vader-of-middle-earth · 2 days ago

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Just 2 years ago I visited a Pet Smart with my mother. The cashier was a cool dude with these gauges in his ears, and tattoos all over, a real rugged punk type like myself!

But as we approached, my mother outright asked him if it was hard to get a job with all of that. She asked if it's impractical to have gauges and tattoos because what if people think poorly of him?

Completely unprompted. She just suddenly began drilling him.

The cashier, gods be with him, brushed it off and took it like a fucking champ, expressing his love for how he appeared and I can't blame him!! He looked badass as hell!! Yet my mother kept pressing and causing obvious discomfort to not just him and myself but others in line as well, as if somehow her berating questions would get him to change. But that man defended himself relentlessly but kindly and with an upbeat attitude!

My mother literally didn't stop trying to push her point until I ushered her out of the store.

Once, as a little kid, I saw a cashier at the art store with blue hair, and seeing that blue is my favorite color, I wanted to compliment her!!

Before we even got in line, my mother pulled me aside and told me, word for word, "Do not say anything about her hair."

I ignored her, of course, and a few seconds after we arrived at the register, I told the woman I liked her hair a lot!

And my mother just exhaustedly sighed and held her head in utter dismay, IMMEDIATELY reprimanding me verbally for having said anything!!! That cashier told my mother it was fine and she was so happy to hear somebody say something nice about her hair!!

While I was walking with my mother through our neighborhood as a kid, we'd passed by a boy shooting hoops or something, but he was making every shot and well, so I said aloud as we passed, "Wow, that boy is REALLY good!"

And my mother SCOLDED me!! She harshly said, word for word, "Magnus, you DON'T do that!" And she was VERY relentless and angry in how she said it.

I was so confused. I still am.

My grandparents were the exact same. I encountered many situations like this when with them growing up. My aunts did the same, reprimenading me for giving a compliment. But all of them found it completely ok to berate a stranger for any reason at all, prompted or unprompted.

I tried asking my mother why I couldn't say something nice, and she couldn't give a valid explanation no matter how much I asked. All my mother did was continuously insist I don't do that (complimenting a stranger), and that it's rude to say anything of the sort.

Why is it so abhorrent to say someone is good at something? Why is it horrible if I tell someone their appearance is cool? If their talents are great? Why is it acceptable to berate somebody and call them out for any minor reason completely unprompted, but it's not acceptable to voice unprompted kindness and support with genuine desire to share love???

Why is rudeness acceptable but kindness isn't????

Now, I'm autistic, and I don't even pretend to understand social norms. But I do know how kindness can literally save lives, and how it genuinely just makes shit better for everyone no matter if they're having a good day or bad, when they are given a genuine compliment. So I was never sure if this is just some double standard or if it's something deeper, either or obviously being ingrained over many generations, but I say fuck it.

I compliment strangers constantly these days. I tell folks their tattoos are awesome, that I love their earrings, their outfits are so cool and well put together, their hair looks perfect! I compliment folks on their talents, and I'm genuine and heartfelt about it, meaning every word I say with sincerity!!

Strangers have given me hugs! People have broken down crying and hugged me for my I kindness!!! So many people have told me word for word, "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me!" And I'm not kidding.

I find every possible reason to compliment somebody, to voice kindness, especially for things such as piercings and hair dye and talents and the sort, especially those that many would disapprove of.

The way I see it is that if nobody ever hears support, then how will they know they're being supported at all? And if all anyone voices is disdain and berating, then how does anyone feel loved and supported??

So yeah. I don't get the whole belief of compliments = rude, and berating = fine. I don't think I'll ever know why this is normalized here.

But I'm damn tired of this because it's the precursor to allowing folks to walk all over you. If you can't voice a kind compliment to another without being shut down, then you're never going to be able to vocalize support of someone in need when they're being berated harshly and given shit left and right.

weird as fuck living in a culture where it's considered more impolite to speak up and defend yourself against someone treating you unfairly than it is for someone to be rude to you in the first place

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22ayla21 · 1 day ago

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A Royal Evening with a Bold Accent

Many times Leona reminded himself that he had chosen not just a woman, but a fire that could scorch anyone who offended her husband.

The vast hall of the royal palace was flooded with the soft light of chandeliers, reflecting off the polished marble floors. Gold, velvet, crystal—everything screamed of luxury, but the air was filled not only with solemnity but also with hidden tension.

Leona, as always, looked as if he wanted to escape at the first opportunity. He lazily sipped wine from his glass, standing away from the crowd. Beside him was she—the only reason he had come to this evening at all. Her hand rested on his forearm, her presence keeping him from complete indifference.

But no royal evening was complete without trouble.

"As always, Prince Leona plays the role of his elder brother's shadow," someone's venomous voice rang out.

Leona didn't even turn around. He knew who it was. The same nobles who had been trying to provoke him for years, hoping for a reaction. But he simply stretched lazily, as if he hadn't noticed them.

She tensed.

"Frankly, I'm surprised someone accompanies him," one of the offenders continued, tilting his head mockingly. "You're out of luck, dear. You could have chosen someone... more worthy."

Leona barely audibly exhaled and was about to retort, but before he could open his mouth, she stepped forward.

"You know," her voice was soft, but there was steel in it, "I've always wondered how easily people judge others without understanding what they're talking about."

She took a step forward, her gaze cold, but her smile serene.

"You consider Leona unworthy?" she tilted her head coquettishly, making her interlocutors stumble. "Then tell me, on what is your 'worthiness' based? On a loud name? On a legacy you did nothing to earn? Leona, unlike you, knows the value of strength, the value of independence."

She smirked, seeing her interlocutors' lips twitch.

"Oh, did I accidentally bruise your egos?" her voice was full of false regret. "How awkward."

Silence fell over the hall. Some guests pretended not to eavesdrop. Leona, tired of this performance, merely smirked.

But she wasn't finished.

"You don't understand why I chose Leona?" she took a step back, but instead of simply returning to him, she grabbed his tie and pulled him down.

And before anyone realized what was happening, she pressed her lips to his in a confident, bold kiss.

The crowd gasped. Ladies theatrically covered their mouths with fans. Someone coughed nervously.

Leona froze, then smirked through the kiss. Now that was a blow to the inflated egos of the pompous aristocrats (and a blow to Leona's heart).

When she pulled away, her eyes sparkled with challenge.

"That's why," she whispered loud enough for everyone to hear. Leona straightened up, lazily adjusted his tie, and hummed, looking at his speechless opponents.

"Well, is it clear now?" he smirked.

The nobles, red with anger and humiliation, chose to leave, while the crowd began to whisper. She shrugged and, taking Leona's arm, led him away.

"I think they'll leave you alone now," she said with a satisfied smile. Leona laughed.

"You just enjoyed that, didn't you?"

"Well, let's just say the cherry on top was especially sweet." And he agreed.

Bonus

Farena stood aside, arms crossed, enjoying the spectacle. Beside him, his wife covered her mouth with her hand, trying not to laugh.

"Darling, are you seeing this?" Farena whispered, unable to hide his amusement. "It's a masterpiece!"

"Look how stunned he is," his wife nudged him with her elbow, barely holding back laughter. "Did you think you'd see someone tame your brother?"

"He looks like he doesn't understand how he ended up in that kiss!" Farena bit his lip to keep from bursting out laughing, but his shoulders shook with laughter.

Meanwhile, the nobles had left, and Leona was recovering from the sudden display of affection. Farena nodded approvingly, as if watching his favorite show.

"That's drama!"

His wife giggled. "I bet ten thousand he'll claim he planned it all along by the end of the evening."

"I won't take that bet, it's obvious."

And they continued to enjoy the show, watching Leona, trying to maintain his dignity, adjust his tie, while his beloved led him away, pleased with the effect.

Farena smirked. "I pity anyone who tries to mess with her."

"I'd say I pity Leona."

"Oh, he's thrilled."

And indeed, even with his usual lazy grin, Leona didn't look displeased. Quite the opposite.

#twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland leona #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader

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azzo0 · 10 hours ago

Note

wait can u write about like katsuki and the readers son getting into an argument and when the reader tries to like console him he says something uncalled for or like touches them harshly (like shoving their arm away, nothing abusive) and it makes the reader all sad and when katsuki finds out he gets like super mad and defends his partner

idk what about it but im obsessed with dad katsuki right now

— My Wife; Your mother

AN: I'm sorry this request took so long, but thank you for being patient with me. I hope you enjoy, anon <3 Paring: Bakugo x f!reader wc: 1.4k

You hummed to yourself as you plated your son's favourite food— chicken alfredo. It was the weekend, which meant he did not have school today, but Katsuki was still at work, given that he did not have Saturdays off. You set the plate on the dining table and washed your hands in the sink, calling for your son to come downstairs.

"Fuyuto, lunch is ready!"

You waited a minute and sighed, assuming he was probably wearing his headset. You dried your hands and went upstairs to his room, knocking before opening the door. He was busy at his desk, clicking away on his keyboard with one hand busy with the mouse.

"Lunch's ready, Fuyuto. It's going to get cold." You reminded the teenager.

He lifted the headset off one ear and glanced at you before fixing his eyes on the monitor again, "I'm in an online game, ma. Just give me fifteen minutes!"

You raised your eyebrows and leaned against the doorframe, your arms crossed across your chest, looking at him with a look that said, 'We both know it's not going to be fifteen minutes.'

"Just fifteen minutes. I swear." He reassured.

"Don't forget. You had breakfast quite early, so don't skip lunch." You said, leaving him to his game.

You made yourself a cup of tea and got busy with the new book you'd purchased last week. This was your favourite spot in the house. The sofa you currently sat on might be old, but it was still as comfortable as ever and held countless memories.

It had witnessed you and Katsuki move in together in your early twenties. The cushions sagged quite a bit from both of you cuddling on it. It had witnessed Katsuki's proposal for you to marry him while you were still sitting on it. It witnessed you caress your baby bump and the first time you held newborn Fuyuto in your arms. This sofa had watched your family grow, which was one of the many reasons why you refused to replace it.

You hadn't realised two hours had passed by when you remembered that Fuyuto still hadn't eaten. You put the book down and pinched the bridge of your nose. It wasn't that he disobeyed you. He tidied after himself, did well at school, had an organised schedule, and the only time he had for leisurely activities was the weekends, so you did not stop him from doing what he wanted to, but you grew concerned whenever he forgot his meals.

You got up and went to his room, determined to make him get up. You opened the door and frowned, "Fuyu. I believe it's been twelve ten minutes now."

"Wow." He replied absently from the bed, nose buried deep in a manga.

"I'm serious. Get up and eat." You said firmly.

"Tch, I'm not even hungry. I had two sandwiches for breakfast."

"Yes, and look at the time now."

"I'll eat with dad."

"If you don't come down for dinner, I'll personally-"

"Come and drag you down to dinner." He finished for you, giving you a cheeky smile. "Okay, ma. I get it."

You shook your head and went to your bedroom to fix your hair before Katsuki came. You'd just finished setting the dishes on the table and reheating the food when you heard the doorbell ring. You couldn't help but smile as you opened the door, knowing all too well who'd be behind it.

Katsuki stood there, still in his hero uniform, his eye mask brought up to his forehead, pushing hair out of his face. He gave you his usual wolfish grin and stepped inside, snaking a strong arm around you and pulling you into his chest. He leaned down and gave you a sweet little kiss, his lips lingering on yours for a few seconds too long, as if to say, 'I missed you.'

"Hey, sweetheart." He greeted at last, pulling away.

"Hi." You kissed his cheek and took off his eye mask, "How was work?"

"The usual," he replied, taking off his boots and neatly setting them on the shoe rack. "Not much action these days."

He stepped into the living room, catching a whiff of the aroma from the kitchen, "Mm, something smells good."

"Chicken alfredo." You smiled.

"Fuyu's faviroute, eh?" He caught you rolling your eyes at his words and raised a brow, "What was that?"

"It's his favourite, but he won't eat. He said he'd eat once you were home." You handed Katsuki his eye mask back and patted his arm. "Go get changed. I'll get him in the meantime."

You marched up the stairs and went straight for Fuyuto's room. The door was open just a crack, so you pushed it and stood at the entrance, "Your dad's home."

"Oh, okay." He replied, still in the same position as you previously left him. He still seemed to have no intentions of coming out of his room.

"I'm not here for an 'oh, okay.'" You scolded. "I've been begging you to eat since the afternoon, which I shouldn't have to be doing since you're almost a grown man."

"Well, then stop begging!" He yelled, looking up from the manga and giving you a glare.

Your eyes widened at him, a pang of hurt jabbing your chest at your own son, giving you a rage-filled glare. You took a step closer to his bed, "Fuyuto, I am your mother."

"I'm well aware."

"Fuyuto." You warned.

You could see a muscle in his jaw flicker as he stopped himself from firing back. Your shoulders sagged, and you exhaled slowly, gathering yourself. You gave him a small smile and gently took the manga out of his hands, placing a book bookmark between the pages. "Come on, meet Dad, have dinner and then do what you want. You have a whole other day off school, alright?"

You set the volume on his bedside table and turned to him to pat his hair. Except you did not get to pat his hair because your hand was shoved away before you could even touch him. You stood frozen in shock, your hand still mid-air.

You could see panic take over his eyes, the same colour as yours. He shifted uncomfortably, opening his mouth to say something but closing it again since he couldn't find the words.

"Fuyuto." An older, deeper voice called from the entrance and you both looked to see Katsuki. His lethal cardinal gaze was set on the teenager, his fists clenched tight with the veins protruding out.

"Did my eyes deceive me, or did you just fucking shove her hand?" Katsuki slowly stepped inside, and Fuyuto gulped, a sheen of sweat tricking down his temple.

"I didn't mean-"

"Don't give me that." Katsuki hissed, towering over Fuyuto's bed.

"I'm sorry, dad."

"The fuck are you apologising to me for? Do you realise whose hand you just shoved? My wife's. Your mother's. The same woman who carried you inside of her for nine months, and this is the shitty treatment you give her?"

Fuyuto's eyes remained on his sheets, too ashamed to say anything as Kasuki went on. "Yeah, she doesn't have to be caring about whether you eat or not because you're a grown-ass man, but she does because she's yer ma."

Katsuki continued to glower at him, "Apologise to her. Now."

Fuyuto lifted his eyes, almost unable to meet yours. You knew he regretted shoving your hand as soon as he'd done it, but you still waited for the apology. He got up from the bed and stood before you, almost as tall as his father.

"I'm sorry, Mom," he said, his voice cracking.

"That was hurtful, you know?" You said, putting a hand on your hip, observing his features overtaken by guilt. You lowered his head to your shoulder and patted his back lovingly. "I accept your apology."

"Thanks, ma." He whispered.

"Let's go downstairs." You kissed his cheek and left the room, leaving him with Katsuki.

Once you were out of earshot, Katsuki clapped a hand on his son's back and ruffled his hair. "That's not how you treat your mother." Saying these words felt odd to him, and he wondered if Masaru used to feel the same way as he did a few moments ago. It made him want to show up to his parents' place and give Mitsuki a hug.

"Or any woman." He added. "Got it?"

"Got it. Sorry, dad."

Katsuki smiled and briefly pressed Fuyuto's head to his chest before patting his back again, "Let's go then. She's waiting for us."

#azzo writes #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #dad!bakugou #dad bakugo

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yrluvjane · 3 days ago

Text

Father's Daughters

Summary: We all know Sirius Black is good at the baby making part, it's time to how good he is at keeping them alive.

The first time Sirius Black held his daughters, he forgot how to breathe.

The hospital room smelled of antiseptic and sweat, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead like angry hornets. Sirius stood frozen in the doorway, his leather jacket still damp from the rain outside, his throat tight as he took in the scene before him.

You were propped up against the pillows, exhaustion etched into every line of your face—but smiling, Merlin help him, smiling like you'd just conquered the world. And in your arms...

Two.

Two tiny, squirming bundles wrapped in identical blue blankets. Two sets of miniature fingers curled into fists. Two perfect noses scrunched in synchronized protest at the cold hospital air.

"Sirius?" Your voice was hoarse, but warm. "Come meet your girls."

His boots squeaked against the linoleum as he crossed the room in three strides, his hands hovering uselessly over the bassinet. "I—" The words caught in his throat. "Fuck."

You laughed—a tired, breathless sound that made his chest ache. "Eloquent as ever."

One of the babies chose that moment to let out a piercing wail. Then the other joined in, because apparently twins did everything together.

Sirius's eyes widened in panic. "Why are they—what do we—are they broken?!"

The mediwitch smirked as she adjusted your IV. "They're hungry, Mr. Black. Perfectly normal."

"Normal," Sirius repeated faintly, watching in horror as you calmly guided one infant to your breast like this wasn't the most terrifying thing he'd ever witnessed. His knees buckled. James caught him before he hit the floor.

"Breathe, mate," James whispered, patting his back. "You're doing great."

"I'm not doing anything!" Sirius hissed, staring at the tiny human currently latched onto your nipple with the determination of a starving hippogriff. "What the fuck is that?!"

You shot him a look—the same one you'd given him when he'd tried to convince you a motorcycle was a perfectly reasonable mode of transportation for a pregnant woman. "Biology, Padfoot. Keep up."

Three Months Later

3:17 AM.

The scream that shattered the silence could have curdled milk.

Sirius bolted upright so fast he nearly headbutted the mobile hanging over the crib. "Which one?!"

"Does it matter?!" you groaned from beneath the mountain of pillows you'd buried yourself under.

Lyra—because of course it was Lyra—was currently attempting to shatter the sound barrier with her lungs. Her sister Cassie, ever the opportunist, had somehow wriggled out of her swaddle and was trying to eat the crib bars.

Sirius stumbled toward them like a man marching to the gallows. "Merlin's balls, it's like living with a pair of drunk pixies," he muttered, scooping up Lyra with one hand while attempting to block Cassie's escape with his foot.

The bottle warmer beeped. The dog barked downstairs (because yes, they'd gotten a dog, because apparently sleep deprivation murdered common sense). Somewhere in the distance, a neighbor started banging on the wall.

Lyra's tiny fist connected with his nose.

"OW— okay, that's fair," Sirius conceded, adjusting his grip. "But if you could not give Daddy a black eye before his meeting with the Wizengamot, that'd be swell."

You appeared in the doorway like a vengeful spirit, hair sticking up in twelve directions, dark circles under your eyes. Without a word, you plucked Cassie from the crib and collapsed into the rocking chair, your nightshirt slipping off one shoulder as you guided her to your breast.

Sirius stared.

"What?" you snapped.

"Nothing," he said quickly. "Just... you're really good at that."

You blinked. Then—miracle of miracles—laughed, the sound bright and sudden in the predawn gloom. "That's what you're focusing on right now?"

Sirius grinned, shifting Lyra to his other arm. "Well, I was going to mention how sexy you look covered in baby vomit, but I didn't want to sound weird about it—OW!"

The thrown pacifier bounced off his forehead.

Four Years Old

The kitchen looked like a bomb had gone off in a flour factory.

Sirius froze in the doorway, taking in the scene: two tiny carbon copies of himself standing atop the counter, their dark curls dusted white, their grins unrepentant. The bowl of cake batter they'd been "mixing" was currently upside down on the floor. The dog—the traitor—was licking it enthusiastically.

"...We helped," announced Lyra, her chin jutting out in that terrifyingly familiar Black family stubbornness.

"Lots," added Cassie, nodding so vigorously her flour-powdered pigtails bounced.

You leaned against the fridge, arms crossed, covered in what appeared to be blue frosting. "They insisted it was your recipe," you said sweetly.

Sirius opened his mouth. Closed it. Then—

"Prongs!" he bellowed over his shoulder. "We need backup!"

James appeared instantly—because of course he'd been lurking in the living room waiting for this exact moment. He took one look at the disaster and burst out laughing. "Mate, they're mini-yous. This is karma."

Sirius scowled, but it was hard to maintain when Cassie launched herself off the counter and into his arms, leaving a perfect floury handprint on his favorite leather jacket. Lyra, ever the opportunist, seized the moment to stick her entire hand into the remaining batter.

"Daddy," she said, with the gravitas of a seasoned politician, "cake is important."

You snorted into your coffee.

Sirius looked down at his daughters—flour-covered, batter-smeared, and utterly delighted—then at you, frosting in your hair and a smirk on your lips, and felt his heart do that ridiculous squeeze it always did when he remembered how lucky��he was.

"Yeah," he sighed, kissing Cassie's floury forehead before reaching for you. "Yeah, it is."

And if he may or may not have charmed the remaining flour to explode into glitter when Remus walked in later—well. Some traditions were meant to be passed down.

#sirius black x reader #sirius black #harry potter x reader #marauders era #sirius x reader #sirius x you #sirius orion black #sirius black x fem!reader #harry potter #marauders x reader #sirius black blurb #sirius black drabble #sirius black fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black x you #marauders #the marauders

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dakusan · 3 days ago

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How skz texts you when they're in love.

stray kids ot8 x reader | comfort, soft angst

🌙 synopsis: how skz would text if they were your boyfriend and down bad. i’m talking unhinged voice notes, emoji abuse, and random deep confessions between memes.

💌 a/n: After seeing how much love the mini shots I did yesterday got, I was like... why not make more! Plus I was brainrotting about how skz would text if they were like… hopelessly in love with you. Might make this into a series, like how they text when they're jealous, etc etc. ps. reblogs = love pss. if u want jealous/skz texting you at 3am or other versions… say less. or, if u want another mini fanfic like I did for Hyunjin's bday, idk, whatever you want, send me your prompts might as well advertise my songs too lololol leave me alone T.T

📍credits: @cafekitsune for the divider

🎶 Now Playing: "Unwind" — VX

Bang Chan // 방찬

type: text-after-text typa guy

response time: fast unless he’s in the studio, then apologizes like you ghosted HIM

voice notes? yup, especially for soft rambles or late-night confessions

emojis: overuses the 😂, ❤️, sometimes the 💀

chaotic habits: sends memes at 2AM, randomly asks deep life questions mid-convo, follows up a heartfelt message with “ignore me lol”

texting vibe:

"yo" "wait" "i saw a puppy n thought of u wtf" 2 min voice note about how your laugh is stuck in his head "don't replay that i'll actually combust"

Lee Know // 리노

type: dry until he’s obsessed—then he gets lowkey clingy

response time: elite. replies instantly unless he’s annoyed (playfully)

voice notes? rarely. only when teasing or if he has something to prove

emojis: the cat ones. 👍🏻. dramatic use of dots (…)

chaotic habits: sends photos of his cats and says ��this is us.”

texting vibe:

"do u even like me" "jk unless" "come over. soonie wants to see you" "also me. i want to see you. but soonie first"

Changbin // 창빈

type: tries to act chill but texts like a man who's in deep

response time: fast. suspiciously fast. like he had the convo open already

voice notes? yes. raspy and low when he's tired = danger

emojis: lots of 🐷 (ironically??), 😭, 💪, and the occasional 🖤

chaotic habits: pretends he's not clingy but sends 10 messages when you don't reply in 4 minutes.

texting vibe:

"are you eating?" "no i'm not checking up on you shut up" "but also don't skip meals or i'll show up" sends gym selfie with the caption: 'working out so i can carry your future' "delete that last msg. i was joking. (i wasn't)"

Hyunjin // 현진

type: romantic poet in a silly man’s body

response time: varies—he’s either blowing up your phone or forgot what a phone is

voice notes? yes, and they’re beautiful, emotional, and sometimes dramatic as hell

emojis: 🌟, ✨, 💘❤️, random aesthetic ones

chaotic habits: sends blurry selfies with “do i look like ur soulmate or”

texting vibe:

"i dreamt of you again" "you were dancing in the clouds" "and then u tripped over a squirrel lol" "still romantic tho" sends 37 Pinterest boards dedicated to your aura

Han // 한

type: overshares. overshares again. disappears. comes back with a meme

response time: fast but forgets mid-convo then apologizes with a TikTok

voice notes? only unhinged ones

emojis: chaos. 🍥 . 🤡, 😭, 🙈

chaotic habits: texts “i love you” at the most random times, like when he’s eating cereal

texting vibe:

"babe" "i just saw a frog and it reminded me of ur ex" "anyway what u doing" "miss u so bad it's medically concerning" sends 12 memes in a row "btw did u know u're my entire world okay bye"

Felix // 필릭스

type: sunshine in text form, but gets lowkey flirty when he’s really into you

response time: pretty fast, unless he’s baking something (which he tells you about in detail)

voice notes? yes, and his voice is so soft you’ll play them 20x

emojis: ✨, 🌞, 🤍, sometimes random food emojis

chaotic habits: sends selfies with “do i look cute enough for u today?”

texting vibe:

"hey angel" "just made brownies and i wish i could feed u one rn" "missing you more than coffee and you know that's serious" sends a selfie with hearts drawn on his cheeks "rate my cuteness out of 10 (be honest but also lie)"

Seungmin // 승민

type: sarcastic menace until he realizes he’s obsessed

response time: elite. scary good.

voice notes? sometimes, especially to roast you

emojis: very minimal. he’s a punctuation man.

chaotic habits: says “you’re so annoying” when he actually means “i miss you”

texting vibe:

"you're insufferable" "also i got u something, check ur door in like 2 mins" "don't cry. i'll block u" "jk. kinda" "be safe. i love you. don't make me say that again"

I.N // 아이엔

type: cute chaos. teases you constantly but gets shy when you flirt back

response time: quick, unless he’s gaming

voice notes? yes, but he re-records them 5 times before sending

emojis: 🥺, 😭, ✨, chaos combo

chaotic habits: sends TikToks that are somehow always lowkey him confessing

texting vibe:

"hey loser" "jk i like u a lot please don't block me" "wanna vc? i need to hear ur voice to survive" "do u think we'd survive in a zombie apocalypse or would u trip and make me die" "nvm i'd save u"

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #minho x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han x reader #jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #in x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz as your boyfriend #how skz texts you #skz texting style #soft chaotic energy

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heavyhitterheaux · 2 days ago

Text

Girl Errands

See Me Through You Blurb

Synopsis: You try to distract your husband from the multiple bags piled up in the back of your car, which was the result of you running "errands"

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Glancing down at your dashboard in your car, you saw that it was now around two in the afternoon and figured that Joe would probably be making his way home soon.

So, that left you with one task.

Beat him home so that he doesn't see the multiple bags that are a result of you telling him that you were going to run “errands”.

You in fact did not run one errand according to Joe if you were to ask him since they consisted of Target, TJ Maxx, Starbucks, JoAnn Fabrics for more things to crochet, and last but certainly not least browsing the Savage Fenty website for new lingerie which you knew would end up getting torn and would make Joe buy you more.

As you pulled out of the Target parking lot, you were met with a stop sign before turning on the main street and coming to a red stop light. You just so happened to glance to your right to see no one other than your husband drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and waiting for the light to change.

“Shit!” You muttered as you glanced behind you to look at the multiple bags in the backseat.

When you turned back around, Joe just so happened to catch your eye and you smirked before you gestured for him to roll down his window.

You might as well distract him.

“Hey handsome! You got a girl? I'm trying to go on a date with you tonight.” You said as you winked at him while he couldn't help but to laugh at your horrible attempt at a pick up line.

“I have a wife actually and I highly doubt she would like that very much.”

“Well, I won't tell if you won't.”

“I'm trying to save us both from ending up being six feet under. She's short, but don't let that fool you.” He replied as you turned up your nose and glared at him.

“I'm sure I can take it. So what do you say?”

Before Joe could respond, he glanced in the backseat of your car and made a face before turning his attention back towards you.

“Uh oh.” You said quietly before you heard your husband's voice.

“Baby! What do you have in the backseat!?”

“Nothing! Bye!” You told him as the light turned green and you pulled off without another word.

But your luck ran out when you were once again caught at a stop light literally less than a mile from your house right next to Joe as he gestured for you to roll your window down and you shook your head no.

So as soon as you told him no, your ringtone for him started blasting throughout the car and you hesitantly hit accept.

“Princess….”

“Oh thank goodness. There's this weird dude who keeps following me in his car and pulling up next to me every time I'm at a stop light.”

“I am not doing this with you today. I refuse.” Joe said as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Refuse what, babe?”

“Don't act dumb. Now what is in the backseat?”

“Stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“For me to know and for you not to find out because I was supposed to beat you home and hide everything.” You honestly told him.

“Hmm, and how's that working out for you?”

“It'll be fine once I get home before you do.” You replied as you hit the gas once more and sped away from him.

“I am literally right behind you and you better slow down before you get a ticket.”

“I'm pretty and I'll be let off with a warning. Works every time.”

“Why do you love to stress me out on a daily basis?”

“You're the one who asked me to marry you so you did this to yourself.” You replied as you pulled into the garage with Joe right behind you.

Joe got out of his Porsche before coming over to the driver's side door of your car and opening it, seeing you smiling at him, but he did not look amused.

“Hi baby!” You greeted him as you wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs wrapped around his waist.

Placing a kiss on his lips, he didn’t return it which made you frown.

“Give me a kiss and fix your face.”

Joe rolled his eyes before kissing you and continued to make a face at you as he pulled away.

“Is this supposed to be serving as a distraction?”

“A little bit, but I can take my clothes off if it isn't working. Now how about that date you promised me?”

“I never even gave you an answer.”

“You're undressing me with your eyes so that's a good enough answer which obviously translates to yes.”

“We can go on a date... right after you show me what's in the backseat.”

“No.”

“Fine. I'll just get my hair cut and run errands in my gray sweatpants.” Joe told you as your eyes then went wide.

“I… Just get the bags please and I'll tell you.”

“That’s exactly what I thought.”

#joe burrow #joe burrow blurb #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x black reader #joe shiesty #joey burrow #joe burrow fanfiction #nfl imagine #joe burrow fluff

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lily-sofii · 18 hours ago

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Hii! I am in love with your Raf nsfw alphabet. I can't imagine him being any other way cause you were so accurate. If you want, could you write a Caleb version? Thank you very much anyway byeee

Caleb NSFW alphabet

I am madly in love with you anon for this ask, we should get married fr

Warnings(?): I'm not the most familiar with his personality yet so it might be ooc, Caleb being weird and obsessive, slight mentions of drugging without your knowledge (just like canon lmao), the fanfic is just 𝔣𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔨𝔶, step-brother Caleb

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Caleb would rather die than to not treat you like a princess after sex. I mean, what kind of step-brother doesn’t want to take care of his sister? He does everything and anything you ask of him. Do you need a shower Pip-squeak? You got it. Want a snack or a drink? Caleb is on his way already! Wanna just fall asleep and stay in bed? Caleb will wash you down and cover you with the softest blankets. Don't worry about him, you're the only important one right now.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Caleb's favorite body part of his is the one which you like the most. Do you like his hands? So does he! Do you like his abdomen? He does too!

(Although if you did force him to pick a part himself, he'd pick somewhere where you left a lasting mark on him. Like the bite wound on his hand from when you were both kids)

As for his favorite body part of yours?. He'd say everything, he doesn't need one favorite part when he can just love all of them. But truly? He's obsessed with your chest. Any time of the day he grabs your chest, his hands sneaking under your shirt and your bra. His brain is addicted to how soft your breasts are under his fingers, how your nipples harden under his touch.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

Caleb will cum inside of you, no matter what. Everytime you two are in bed, he cums inside automatically, not even asking. The only way for you to get him to cum anywhere else is to push him off of you just as he's about to cum or to say that you'll forever hate him if he cums inside.

D = Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

When you were teenagers and both still lived under one roof, he'd always jerk off to the thought of you, his lovely step-sister. Now, of course his friends and he used to talk about pornography and porn stars all the time, but Caleb never understood it. He tried it, he really did! But nothing could compare to the thought of you being with him as he was jerking off. Did he feel disgusted? Absolutely, I mean, he's jerking off to his step-sister. But it felt the best.

A dirty secret from the present? He's obsessed with the idea of feeding you an aphrodisiac. I mean, he's given you pills before without your consent, why not try it more? Although it is worth noting that he hasn't done it yet, nor will he have the courage to do so in the next 6 months or more.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Caleb knows what he’s doing because he knows you. He has no experience outside of you, because as cheesy as it sounds, he was saving himself for you and you only.

F = Favorite position (This goes without saying)

Caleb is okay with any position as long as you like it, although he does prefer positions where he can see your face. He enjoys seeing the pleasure on your face, the pleasure he’s giving you. Plus he also enjoys kissing you non-stop, leaving you out of breath.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Caleb is as serious as he can be in the moment. Sure, if anything embarrassing happens he’ll laugh at it, but otherwise he’s rather serious.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I was gonna say that he only trims his hair, but in his design it is implied that he shaves, as seen here:

As for the hair itself? I’d say it’s slightly darker than the hair on his head and that it is thicker.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

Caleb is romantic with you 24/7, and it does not change when he’s intimate with you. If anything, it ten folds.

J = Jack off (Masturbation headcanon)

He'd jerk off almost every day when he was a teen, always thinking only about you. But upon becoming a fleet officer he didn't have time to do much. The only time he'd get to jerk off is when he had a free day (few days a month), and once again, his head would only be thinking about you no matter how hard he tried to think of anyone else.

As for the present? He jerks off anytime he gets needy and you’re not there. No matter where he is. Is he in a meeting and you text him? Well, he’s already hard and making his way to the bathroom to rub one out.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Due to Caleb's profession, I think he'd have a thing for bondage, especially handcuffs, and he'd be into uniforms, along with marking, like bites and hickeys.

For handcuffs, he'd cuff you and never let you cuff him.

For the uniform, it wouldn't matter. Sure, he loves to wear the uniform and to act higher than you, but you wearing the uniform turns him on the same, if not more.

Also, I am convinced he'd try to make you levitate up to his face to eat you out with his Evol while jerking off.

And there’s a slight chance that he has Dacryphilia, but he won’t admit it.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

I honestly think he’d want to do it anywhere if he was needy enough and if it was private enough. Most often he takes you in his home since it’s private and you barely leave anyways, but there have been times (far too many times) where he bent you over the control panel of the fleet’s airplane, or on a random wall in a public space where no one could see you two.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

YOU. Anything and everything about you is what gets him going, innocent or not. Oh, are you wearing his shirt? It's because you love him so much you wanna look like him, right?

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I believe he’d try almost anything for you, as long as it gives you pleasure/turns you on. He just loves you so much that he’d do it even if it was odd to him,

Although a thing that he’d never do, is take you with anyone else. You’re his, just his. No one else can ever see you in the ways he does.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Caleb loves giving oral. Sure he enjoys it when you give him oral too, but he’s much happier giving you the pleasure.

As for his skill? Well, given the fact he has no experience before you, I’d say he’s definitely sloppy in the start. He does get better with time, noting how each of his movements make you louder or quieter.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

This mainly depends on Caleb’s mood. He’d rather enjoys slow and sensual sex, but if something happens when he’s at work, he’ll come home and fuck you until you are on the verge of passing out.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Caleb most certainly prefers to take you in the confines of his home, taking his time with everything, but that isn’t too common due to his always-packed schedule. Thanks to him being a fleet officer who barely gets any time off, there are many times that quickies between you happened, much to his dismay.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Caleb isn’t the biggest risk taker, but he does take them sometimes. I mean, whenever he asks you for a joined ride in his airplane you end up bent over the control panel with Caleb fucking you from behind, your face pressed against the glass of the front winndow.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Caleb feels like he has infinite stamina, being able to go all night long if not longer. Although, if you start feeling exhausted, too overstimulated or like you’re gonna pass out, he will stop for you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

When he was a teen he tried to DIY a fleshliight/pocket pussy, but failed horribly due to being terribly untalented in the crafts. So he just continued jerking off with his hand and until now that had stayed the same. Sure, he had the idea of buying a fleshlight, but he’s grown accustomed to simply using his hand.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

As much as Caleb loves to have soft and sensual sex with you, he also loves to tease you. And as much as he’d hate to admit, he finds it utterly hot when he makes you cry with his teasing.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

The first few times you were intimate, Caleb was rather quiet. Although after you asked him if he’s even receiving pleasure during intimacy, he let his voice go. Now most of the times when you have sex he whines and whimpers as he kisses you, moaning in your ear when the kisses break.

W = Wild card (A random headcanon for the character)

I think the step-sibling aspect of your relationship turns him on beyond belief. The forbidden aspect of it fueling his love (obsession) for you even more

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Caleb is much bigger than average, and much thicker too. His cock has a curve to it with the tip being an angry red color.

And for the record, he knows more than well how to use it. Well, after the first few times at least.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Before you? It was honestly low (not counting when he was a teen) and he’d actively have to get himself horny but now? He’s horny almost 24\7 when he’s with you, when he thinks about you, or when you text him.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Caleb makes sure you're okay. He watches you as you fall asleep and if you can't? He's gonna get you a nice drink that assures you will sleep. After all, he doesn't want you to be tired tomorrow, does he?

It also is rather common for Caleb to not sleep much himself. He just loves watching you sleep. Sometimes he can spend the whole night just watching your chest rise as you breathe calmly. He'd love to watch you like this every night, but he is the fleet's commander after all, so there are bound to be distractions.

Idk @scarasdarling wanted to be tagged, there ya go bud

#caleb love and deepspace #love and deepspace #love and deepspace caleb #caleb #love and deepspace x reader #caleb x reader #caleb x you #love and deepspace smut #lads caleb #lads smut #lads

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cheriladycl01 · 8 hours ago

Note

hi love!! i just read your "Funny Gaming moments with Lando and Max (F) x QuadrantStreamer! Reader" and I absolutely loved it. this is me requesting more content like that! specifically again lando x streamer who plays val. maybe lando showing up to her competing in vct and its in the same city as a grand prix weekend. if not then maybe stream moments (thinking of like Tenz and Kydae🥹)

i love your content so i'm excited for literally any content you put out!! thank u!!❤️

Chat, what is this? - Lando x Streamer! Reader Part 1

Plot: More moments of you, trying and failing to teach your boyfriend Lando how to play games as good as you

Warning: This probably wont be for everyone but if you love gaming and Lando fluff you will enjoy this. It is very technical about Valorant as a game, but this request despite being sat in my drafts for a while has been one ive wanted to complete for ages! Its based around VCT 2023, Sao Paulo. Reader takes of from FNC Leo so if your confused why he isn't there thats why!!

"Chat, how good was that game? We Match MVP'ed and what did we go, 34 - 12 - 8. God climbing has been hard but did we finally do it chat?" you ask looking at the comments rolling in before you click to see if you rank had changed and finally put you back in radiant.

-Yes lmao

-Radiant time <3

-Gorl we know its gonna be good, just show us!!!!!

-Bits Donated

"Okay chat and omg Radiant Number 346! Now i don't know how long ill keep that for because ... well I've got to leave for VCT soon because my team actually made it through!" you exclaim, you'd been in game changers for a year when Fnatic asked you to become a sub for their team. Leo going on longterm sick meant that you were currently playing with them.

It was perfect timing for VCT Lock in if you were being honest. It was running from February till the start of March which meant that Lando could join you before you went to his first race with him in Bahrain. He was to stay in the hotel with you, which was payed for by the team but he wasn't invited to the team meal that Riot payed for, for each team.

"Ahhhh baby" you come back to the hotel after your meal out with the team having had a few too many drinks.

"Hello beautiful, did you have fun" he smiles running his fingers through your hair as you place your bag on the sofa.

"So much fun, its nice to just hang out with them you know? Sometimes even when were playing games it feels like its my job" you sigh in your drunk voice that Lando couldn't help but find adorable. He helps you take your shoes off as he continues to talk to you.

"Mmmmm well it kinda is your job baby" he chuckles knowing that he enjoying goofing around with his friends like George and Alex when they'd go cart together or he'd go out clubbing with Max or biking with Daniel.

"I know but i still should have fun right?" you almost moan as your shoes finally come loose and you can breathe. He helps you take your makeup off and change you into an oversized shirt off his before bringing you to the bed and tucking you in placing a kiss on your forehead before climbing in himself.

February 24th 2023.

Lando was there cheering you on as you went into your first match against Sentinels. Which was funny as you were actually really close to TenZ who was the star player of the opposing team and always made a pretty hard match for you whenever you guys played together or against each other. You were first friends with his girlfriend Kydae who you'd met streaming and then when you met irl was when you met the legendary TenZ.

"Ready?" you ask over to him after your walk on and he chuckles nodding.

"You bet i am, bring it on" he grins first bumping you before heading to his seat.

"It's so nice to see despite them being on opposing teams, NA and EMEA that they are still really good friends and ... you know what Bren its just nice seeing this level of Sportsmanship in our sport" Commentator Sideshow says.

"I agree but the question is, will Y/N be able to finally put an end to his streak? He's never been outplayed by her and maybe that is the downfall of playing with the enemies, he knows her and what she thinks and how she plays because who knows how many hours they have played outside of the teams, so this will really show" Brenn adds.

Haven was the first pick and Lando watched on anxiously as his girlfriend talked to her teammates through her headset, discussing strats going forward and what was going to be best for them.

He'd never admit it but he didn't know what he preferred, seeing her in her own team shirt or in his team gear but right now you looked so beautiful to him, the way your glasses sat perched on your nose and the team top tucked into your trousers.

Pearl hadnt been a map that you guys were doing well on when practicing so it was your first ban against Sen who'd been doing well in Masters through the year. You were hoping that they wouldn't ban Icebox as you guys had a pretty cohesive agent line up but to all your dismay it was Sen's first ban.

The first map pick was Haven, a three site map, different from the standard two which was your guys go too. You as a team when it came to practicing found that you guys commed better on this map than any other and with the amount of hours put into it, it would be hard not to have this as your guys best map.

And as if the Valorant gods were listening you see Sen's pick of Split come up, you hadn't been playing it much in front of people but behind closed doors you guys actually had your second best map on split. You guys ban Ascent knowing TenZ was a chamber demon on that map and you guys didn't wanna risk a throw away.

Sen then bans Fracture which you were glad about personally because it was one of your worst maps and you didn't have an agent you felt truly comfortable with there. Your goal for this year was to play more Fracture and make it a better map of yours.

And of course that left Lotus which three site maps seemed to be in favour of your guys team so this would be interesting.

Defending of Haven was up first.

"Okay im guessing were having Derke on Jett?" you ask knowing you'd be happy to Raze and Judge on Split later if it came to it.

"Yes, and I think we should go with Team C composition, how you guys feeling about that?" Boaster asks and you all nod before Chronicle changes his mind.

"I don't think double sentinal will work. Better doing double initiator" he argues and Boaster thinks for a second before agreeing.

"Okay so that leaves Plan B which is Derke on Jett, Chronicle on Breach, Alfa on KillJoy, Nyxie on Sova and me on Astra is that good with everyone?" he asks and you're all happy locking in your agents.

You spend your credits getting a Frenzy and two darts, knowing playing B should get you decent info you head there talking about darting first before you get any rotates to your site.

The round starts and with your reveal dart already loaded up you track two enemies seeing them in window.

"B Main smoke Boaster, two in window" you request and he places down a smoke hiding you on the left of site.

"Skye Dog coming through" you say as you here the yapping coming through the smoke making you and Boaster rotate to backsite. The dog thankfully doesn't grab anyone and leaves them with no info apart from the fact that you are on site.

TenZ dashes onto site right to where you and Boaster are immediately getting picked off by your British counter-part. As they rotate to C Chronicle and Alpha sit patenitly their util ready for use. Boaster gets another pick travelling on C site while you remian watching garage.

Derke flanks from A killing of the Skye meaning spikes down and only two are left as you play it safe moving back onto B keeping your eye on garage so you can swing off Boaster.

"There in garage, there in garage im holding from box" Derke says and you come through B to join him and by the time you've got there he's wasted no time and got the last two kills.

"Nice! Fnatic pistol round for the win!" you say fist-bumping Chronicle who your next to.

Your next buy is a Stinger, light shield and full util. This should be an easy win where Sen are on a save round but ... you never know. Shaking things up a bit you move to A with Derke positioning ready to dart down long.

"Util on C, coming long" Boaster comms and you start to rotate, knowing Derke can hold down A if they decide to Early rotate. And just as you get to B ...

"A, All A. What do you mean coming long, yes they are coming long on A! Not C" Derke shouts from Boasters earlier call out. Knife out and your running back to A as Derke gets another 3 picks.

"Okay Derk when i said hold the fort this isn't what i meant but pop off!" you say as you get your dart out, just as Chronicle gets the last kill in Sewers.

"Nice work!" you shout, a fist lightly tapping the desk. You pull a face at the camera on you with Boaster on the other side of you before buying for the next round.

Next round however goes to shit. Derke lerks Sewers getting picked off immedielty leaving you and Chronicle who had rotated early.

You replace Derke watching Sewers, Boaster smokes for you and you spam through the smokes getting two kills, switching to the classic seeing their Omen pushing you kill him off as Tenz kills you off after Chronicle and Boaster die on site. They proceed to win the round.

You boyfriend jumps up for joy seeing your 3k pulled back down by Max Fewtrell as you died to TenZ of all players.

"Guys what happened, I was watching sewers and before i know it TenZ is kissing my ass" you say looking between Boaster and Chronicle.

"It was just poor timing on our half sorry, but great round for economy guys!" Boaster tries to keep up Moral.

2 - 1

Next round was a blur, starting on A and dying over on C all within 15 seconds of the round was ... humbling to say the least.

However, it was close with TenZ being the only one standing once again as he trades off Zekken to get the kill on your teammate.

2 - 2

You remained on A despite it seeming like it wasn't working as its where you were getting the best darts and getting the most kills, Breach alt sent you sky high and not long afterwards with another kill under your belt it was a 2 v 1 situation with Sacy as the only one remaining and you with Alfa.

"Amir, swing off me, ill bait" you call and you both swing, you from behind box and Alfa in heaven, Sacy can only concentrate on one and thats unfortuanlty you.

"Nice one!" you say and Amir fits his hand on the air.

3 - 2

"Bit of jumping and running and gunning from Nyxie" the commentators says as you jump into and out of the smoke getting a kill before being killed instantly by their Killjoy who Boaster finishes off in a smoke.

"Despite some wacky moves from Nyxie this game, the comms from her have been phenomenal. The minute she dies her team are right there getting the revenge"

4 - 2

Your alt being available this round leaves Derke hard dashing up into window you think with the smoke he's got somewhere only to be picked off by their breach. With comms you pop your alt but the enemies seem to expect that managing to dodge it.

You all rotate to C using your reveal and then your drone you see three on site. Immediely managing to hit TenZ. You continue on, not thinking that you've just killed him in pro play.

Going deeper into cubby you get a pick on Skye just as Omen alts away probably onto A. Immedielty on the rotate heading through Attacker spawn and into Sewers, you're killed first and sit back comming for you teammates as Alfa clutches the round.

"Guys, i just got a kill on TenZ!" you exclaim and look over to Tyson, sending him a heart with your fingers where he rolls his eyes at your joke.

5 - 2

After some whiffs from both you and Derke, Boaster and Alfa clutch the round.

6 - 2

Again after some silly mistakes and being caught in util Alfa is the last one standing and left to save standing back away from site letting the bomb tick away.

Boaster is left a little frustrated asking what the hell we're doing despite having 3 plus rounds on Sen. IGL mentality for you! He knew you guys could and should do better.

6 - 3

You play safe with Chronicle on A trading kills off each other leaving Boaster a nice 3k on site, playing a little more aggressively than he usually would as the two of you die.

"Sorry Boaster, i don't know whats going on man" you sigh, knowing you arent playing your best right now.

"It's fine, it's all good we've got this!" he smiles at you, fist bumping your hand.

7 - 3

Next round you're told to early rotate straight to see thanks to Derke's spot and the fact that they stuck coming up C long rather than rotating worked in your benefit. You get a pick, before TenZ outplays you as your reloading.

Derke and Boaster clutch the round, cheers all around as you go to ...

8 - 3

A very slow paced round where both the Jett's were opping and so many ults were available. You were running between side, jiggle peaking and jumping to try get any info. You guys rotate to see when Alfa's alarm bot it destroyed seeing their coming through garage you wait at the top getting a kill on the Omen, just after Derke's op kill and Alfa's ratty move of hiding in cubby.

Alfa finishes them up in garage and you guys call it a day.

"YES! GOOD JOB!" you scream, fisting the air.

9 - 3

SWITCHING SIDES

Now it was your time to shine, you much preferred attacking on Haven. You guys agreed to start baiting A while the rest make their way to C. After a Sova reveal you guys make your way to C long Boaster in the back with spike.

After managing to plant TenZ gets onto sight with his Sheriff destroying the three of you remaining.

"FUCK THAT GUY!" you cry into your mic, head going into you hands hating the fact that you actually only did 20 damage to him.

9 - 4

You guys get fucked in sewers again.

9 - 5

This round you wiped the sweat from your forehead and locked in. Taking a quick swig of water before buying your util. You lurk getting a nice ratty kill on Skye before using the opportunity to reposistion gaining another kill. You peak TenZ but he avoids the fight leaving you to get a kill on Kill Joy instead while Boaster goes after Jett.

"Some incredible work there from Nyxie, she's really great at reading the map and once getting a kill repositioning to catch off her opponent and she's just incredibly quick with it too" the commentators admit.

Lando was biting his lips hard from how close this game was feeling despite it being 15 rounds in and 10 of them being for your team.

10 - 5

This round felt like it hadnt even started, you don't even know what you did but you were just there supporting. You tab to realise your actually 2nd on the leader board which only spurs you on further. You had this!

11 - 5

You and Derke wait together, storming onto sight getting three kills between you and managing to get the spike down. You guys have an incredible round all serving and keeping your guns, running off just as spike explodes killing the last player.

12 - 5

MATCH POINT

You wanted to cry, you were left standing last and whiffed so hard. Whiffed so hard not only did you let spike be diffused but you got yourself killed too. You could have finished this game there and then and called it a day.

12 - 6

After a stressful round you guys won the last round meaning you'd won the first map. You were the person who had the final kill which felt like a redemption after your previous bad round.

"YES LETS GO!" you cry pulling Boaster into a hug. Chronicle comes up fistbumping Derke before you hug him.

"Nice going Nyx" he grins. You use your hand to look out into the crowd spotting your boyfriend sat there with Max in the VIP section.

You wave at him as you leave the stage knowing he'll come see you in the room you guys had snacks and breaked in before the next map.

"You did so well, argh im so proud of you and i know you've got this next map!" he grins pulling you into a hug, kissing your forehead before moving down to hold your face in his hands bringing you into a full kiss.

"Ew" Chronicle comments smirking at the pair of your while Boaster covers Alfa's eyes.

"You guys all did really well. Got a feeling this ones yours!" Lando admits, keeping you close to his side.

"Thanks mate, oh wait have you guys seen Yinsu?" Jake (Boaster) asks.

"Mmmm she was in the crowd but haven't seen her yet!"

"Whose Yinsu?" Lando whispers to you.

"His girlfriend" you laugh.

"Mmmm she's with Angelina i think" Chronicle nods.

"Whose Angelina?" he asks

"Chron's wife?" you laugh as if Lando didn't believe your teammates had partners.

"You know ... this is a sport so technically you are my WAG... or HAB i guess?" you giggle before the others all tilt there heads confused.

"What is a WAG?" Derke asks head tipped to the side.

"Its a sports term, feel like its mostly used in F1 though. WAG is like Wives and Girlfriends of the sport person so im known on the screen when they show my face as Y/N FNC Nyxie Y/L/N Pro Valorant Player, Streamer and Girlfriend of Lando Norris" you explain and they nod.

"We should have something like that!" Alfa exclaims!

"Maybe" you laugh, preparing yourself for the next round.

Taglist:

@miffywoo @littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

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into-deepspace · 2 days ago

Note

hi there! i saw you are taking requests hehe So i have this idea, how would the Lads guys (in specific Sylus) react to your past situationships, lets suppose you just happen to mention your last romantic interest and the way he treated you before him and he's truly horrified and like ''did you really allowed that? sweetie, why? that's absolutely, no, not acceptable.'' bc obviously he is better and treats us as royalty, he would be horrified to find out the audacity some man have hahahaha if this is something you are comfortable with i would love to know your take on this, thank u so muchhh, mwa

hiiii oh my goodness tysm for the ask!! this is such a interesting premise, i've just written sylus's part for now but i have ideas (and some rough drafts hehe) for the other guys' parts that i hope to post in the next few days 🥰 so, without further ado:

sylus vs your (not-so-stellar) past relationships

690 words, mc/sylus, mini-fic format, mentions of (past) over-controlling relationships, they/them pronouns for MC, MC is described as wearing a dress, no smut but Sylus does get a lil handsy with it oops

request info • remember to reblog your authors!

zayne (coming soon) • rafayel (coming soon) • xavier (coming soon)

MC frowns at themselves in the mirror.

They don't look bad. Truly, they look good. Great, even, in the dress they'd picked out for tonight's auction. No doubt about it, the fabric hugs and flares in all the right places. It could be described as show-stopping, truly, with the way it suits them so nicely.

But, at the same time, it's clear that MC has some slightly different proportions to the online model. It doesn't affect how the dress fits, or how good it looks but it does affect how much of certain pieces of skin are showing. They run their fingers along the edges of the fabric, trying to pull a bit, wondering if half an hour is enough time to procure some fashion tape and tug the dress around so that the coverage is just a bit more... well, covering.

There's a knock at the door, more an announcement than a true request for entrance, and then Sylus is striding into the room, his neat suit jacket draped over one shoulder like a cape. He clasps an expensive-looking watch onto his wrist as he crosses the floor, smiling as his eyes drag up and down MC's figure.

"I was going to ask if you're ready," he comments with a quiet smile and a glint in his eye, as he steps up behind them and drapes his arms around their waist, "but now I'm not sure if I want to leave the house at all..." MC flushes, gaze breaking from the mirror and dropping to the floor.

"Yeah," they manage, breath tight in their chest, both from having him so close and from preemptive nervousness regarding any comments about their choice of dress. "This isn't super- uh- public-appropriate." Their gaze darts back up just in time to watch Sylus raise an eyebrow.

Once again, Sylus's eyes rake up and down their body, this time less of a flirtatious look and more of a genuine search. His thumbs brush gentle, idle circles over MC's hips.

"I don't see why it's not," he says, and MC almost believes him with how genuine it sounds. "Look," he says, tracing the lines of the dress with the smirk of a man that knows exactly what he's doing. "All the exclusive parts are covered, aren't they?" MC can feel their cheeks burn warmer.

"I mean- well, yeah," they choke out. "But... come on, I'm not stupid." They look up at Sylus in the mirror, trying their hardest to not think about the pleasant weight of his hands on their waist, not right now. "Not like I haven't had a boyfriend before. I know how guys think." Sylus's shoulders straighten a bit, and a slightly more serious expression crosses his face.

"Oh? Do you?" he says. "Enlighten me, then." MC huffs, feeling remarkably like an animal in a trap.

"You know. People don't like it when their partners, well, parade themselves around. I'm not stupid. I know this is a little too much to be wearing out and about."

Sylus gives a few slow blinks, then lets out a measured breath. He searches their face in their reflection for a moment, as if trying to figure out just what's going on. Finally, with a soft, serious voice, he speaks.

"I don't know what sort of insecure boys you've dated in the past," he says with distaste, "but I don't find myself in the business of telling my partner what they can and cannot wear." One of his hands moves to their jaw and cups their face, gently turning their gaze from the mirror to him. With a unique softness, he presses a grazing kiss to their lips.

"So," Sylus continues, "unless you yourself are uncomfortable with the amount of skin you are currently showing, I think it would be best to go ahead and get your shoes on so that we can begin our evening."

Well. MC's face splits into a relieved, grateful smile — they aren't about to argue with that. They relax a bit, leaning against Sylus as they gaze up at him over their shoulder.

"Sounds good," they breathe. Sylus smiles back.

"Good."

#love and deepspace headcanons #sylus x reader #l&ds sylus #sylus love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus qin #qin che #sylusmc #lnds sylus #jay's writing!#l&ds #love and deepspace #lads sylus #love and deepspace fanfic

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chrystal-ink · 2 days ago

Text

Shadow x GN reader

All cramped up

Shadow finds the one thing he can’t fix for you

Warnings: reader is on period, severe menstrual cramps, mentions of nausea, hurt/comfort

Note: so a fun (not really) fact about me is I suffer from debilitating menstrual cramps to the point where I can (very rarely) lose my ability to stand so this is based off of that

“I’m sorry honey I can’t go out tonight I’m not feeling well”

As you sent the text you felt a wave of guilt and frustration wash over you. Once again your body had decided to ruin plans and upend your life and for what?

The scraping in your lower abdomen continued as you waited for the ibuprofen to kick in you waited a half an hour, then an hour still nothing.

You clutched the heating pad close hoping it could soothe the cramp that you so desperately needed relief from. not caring weather or not it was starting to burn, so far it was the only kind of relief you could feel.

Just then you heard a knock at the door. You were too tired to move so you figured you could ignore it. let whoever was on the other side think you weren’t home , but then they knocked again.

Your phone chimed a text from Shadow appearing on the screen.

“Let me in I’m here to take care of you”

You heaved a sigh you should have known that he would be coming, he wasn’t going to let you suffer alone, even if he didn’t quite know that you weren’t suffering from any illness rather a particularly cruel joke from Mother Nature.

steeling yourself you got up from your couch making your way over to the door each step more taxing than the last. eventually you made it to your door.

❤️

Shadow stood patiently at your door anxiety flooding through his system, he hated when you got sick. he always made sure to do everything in his power in order to get you healthy again and today was no different, or so he thought.

You opened the door greeting him with a soft "Hey".

much to his surprise you looked just fine, no apparent signs of any fever, no runny nose or sore throat. aside from looking a bit tired you seemed just fine.

"Hey, what's going on?"

"Yah, I just don't feel like I can go out tonight."

"Are you sick? when was the last time you took any medicine?"

"Well I took some ibuprofen about an hour ago, but I'm not exactly sick."

"what do you mean?"

"Well I- it's sorta like." you seemed hesitant to answer like you were embarrassed or ashamed of what the problem was. he waited for you to continue.

but before you could give any proper answer you collapsed to the ground.

❤️

the sharp pain took your breath away like you had just been impaled the pain from your uterus now radiating through your spine forcing you to double over in pain. a bout of nausea twisted your stomach as you began to shake.

Gentle hands caught you as he called out your name panic laced throughout his voice. "Are you alright? what's going on? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?"

"No, it's alright." you stated trying to clam his nerves. "trust me the hospital won't do anything."

"Why not? You're clearly suffering with something."

"Yes and that thing is having a uterus. I'm on my period." You explained through groans. "and I just so happen to suffer with really bad cramps. the most a doctor will do is send me home with some pain killers, which I already have, and tell me to do the same things I've been doing since this whole stupid thing started."

Shadow stared at you not really sure on how to proceed.

You sighed "Can we please move over to the couch I really don't want to have this conversation on the floor."

"Of course, can you stand?"

you began to rise carefully halfway up you felt a twinge of pain letting out a cry as you retreated to your previous position.

"Here let me help you." He scooped you up in his arms carrying you over to the couch.

as he carried you over you couldn't help but feel guilty. not only did you ruin his night but you caused him serious worry over you and now you were making him take care of you.

as Shadow gingerly placed you on the sofa all the frustration and guilt bubbled to the surface, tears began streaming down your face soft sobs escaping your mouth.

"I hate this" you started. "people have been doing this every day for thousands of years. going to work, living their lives, and I can't even stand up. I’m so sorry I really didn’t want to ruin your night, you already do so much for me and now this. I feel so pathetic.” Another wave of pain shot through you making you wince “I just want it to stop”

Shadow just stared at you for a moment unsure of what to do. He’s never seen you like this and it scared him. He’s seen you fight off plenty of foes, seen you sustain many injuries that you simply walked off. He never expected to see you brought down, and by your own body nonetheless.

Questions formed in his head unsure of how to ask them. Did this happen every time? How come he hasn’t seen this yet? How could he fix this?

The last question rang in his head the loudest. Memories of his past flashed through his mind, his purpose what he was created for. Was this another failure for him? Was there truly nothing he could do for you? The only thing he could do right now was watch you while you succumbed to your pain.

He had to do something but what?

Taking a breath he helped you lay down on the couch. He rested his hand on your shoulder in a gentle voice he said “it’s alright my love, just give me a minute.” He turned on your favorite show hoping it could distract you in his absence.

Exiting your apartment he called the only person he could think of.

“Hey handsome, what’s going on?”

“Rouge, it’s Y/N. I need your help” Shadow explained the situation he confessed he was in over his head and didn’t know how to proceed.

“Oh, the poor thing” Rouge commented “Alright big guy here’s what you do.”

❤️

Shadow had been gone for thirty minutes now. You felt horrible thinking you must have scared him off.

You should have explained your situation earlier before all of this happened. You thought you were getting better, your past few cycles had been manageable. You should have known better than to think the problem would go away on its own.

The next time you saw Shadow what was that going to be like. Did he think you were weak now? Did he pity you? You couldn’t stand the thought of shadow looking down on you.

Before you could spiral Shadow came through the door shopping bags in one hand and take out in the other.

He unloaded the contents of the bags onto the coffee table. Pulling out your favorite snacks and candies one by one. He brought a tub of ice cream to the freezer presumably for later. Coming back with some silverware he handed you the takeout.

“Here, I don’t know if you’ve eaten today so I got your favorite. If you don’t want it I also got some ingredients to make your favorite comfort food as well.” He pulled out a plushie in your favorite color and placed it in your arms.

“What’s this?” You asked the question being more rhetorical than anything.

“I don’t particularly enjoy them but I know you like your plush toys, you don’t already have that one do you?”

“No” you gave him a weak smile as you hugged your new squishy friend “thank you”

Shadow kissed you on the forehead climbing behind you on the couch wrapping you in his arms and pulling you close to him.

“Where does it hurt?”

You guided his hand to your lower abdomen resting on the source “Right there”

Shadow delicately worked his hands on the area giving it a gentle massage, untying some of the knots left behind by your uncaring reproductive system.

“Does this help at all?”

“Actually yes, it does, a little”

“Good” he continued his gentle movements. “ I want you to know that I take care of you because I want to, you’re not a burden to me and I never want you to feel like you are. If you’re in pain let me know I won’t think any less of you for it. You are such a strong and amazing person you don’t have to hide your struggles from me.”

“Okay, I promise I’ll tell you next time”

You felt some of the tension in his body melt as you snuggled further into his arms.

“I heard that new movie you wanted to see is streaming now do you want to watch it?”

You nodded

As the movie began to play you began to feel more at ease some of the pain finally slipping away disappearing into nothingness.

“Shadow”

“Yes?”

“Thank you”

“Of course my love, anytime.”

#shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow the hedgehog #shadow x reader #shadow #x reader #sonic fanfiction #not beta read #cw periods #tw periods #period #menstrual cramps #period cramps #hurt/comfort

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thevoidscreams · 1 day ago

Note

For the mating press march,what about Ferrus being a bit jealous so he made a necklace to his girlfriend?

I'm gonna keep it real with you. I have a hard time with Ferrus, so he's probably ooc in this. But I needed him to be jealous for the prompt so I had to. Day 27 Year 2: Warnings: Possessive behavior, trust issues, Ferrus basically putting a collar on you that you can't take off. Mentions of sex but nothing spicy spicy

Word count:2707

Fingers traced over your delicate throat as you slept, cool and metallic, your body instinctively trusted the sensation of the metal digits. Why would it not? They belonged to the man you loved and trusted. But Ferrus was not at ease as he looked down at the peaceful expression on your face. If anything it only made him angrier. That you should rest so well after what you had done, even if unknowingly. With great care he lifted your head from your pillow and slid the necklace he'd made around your throat. It had taken him all day to make, it had to be just right. The band of leather, which wasn't really leather but a highly durable synthetic replication, was a tiny marvel of engineering. Inside was a system that kept tabs, heart-rate, temperature and location would all be fed into a system he could check at any point he wished. Part of him regretted that it had come to this. But he felt he had no choice. He joined the two edges together, which when they met the metals bound to one another, welding the two ends for a permanent fit. It also made the insignia of his legion. Now everyone who saw it would know that you were his and that did ease his mind. As he thought back to the day prior his blood felt hot, he hadn't settled yet from the anger inside. Like an overheated forge it would take longer than most men for him to cool his temper. Fulgrim had stopped for a visit. He had been happy to know his closest brother would be close by again. But that was when the trouble had started. You ran to hug him, just as delighted to see Fulgrim as ever. He didn't know why that burned him so terribly, but it had not been helped by Fulgrim's careless joking. "Oh If I had found her first Ferrus, I am afraid it is you who would be the brother in law." The phoenician had laughed, mirthful in his teasing. Ferrus's teeth ground at the idea. You were his. And it nettled him so terribly to see you sitting there, smiling and making jokes and just getting on with his handsome brother.

Even if you had never made Ferrus feel unattractive, he knew that most would prefer his brother over him, after all he was the Gorgon.

You rolled over in your sleep, pressing your cheek into his metal digits and he felt such a sudden and terrible guilt. It had to be done. It was not enough for others to simply know, they had to see.

He bent low to kiss your lips. His manhood jumped at the soft whisper of a moan. You could ruin this man with only a sound and you weren't even consciously doing it.

He slid into bed behind you and ran his hand down your body, groping the softest parts of you as he did. You mumbled something, and began to stir. He waited with bated breath as you rose slowly from your slumber.

"Good morning." You mumbled still half asleep, and Ferrus pressed his cheeks to yours. You giggled and pressed back. As you moved you felt the tug of the choker and you hand shot up to touch the band. "What's this?" You asked, shocked and now very much more alert. "A gift." He said simply. "You are mine and I want everyone to know this at a glance." You touched the band again, and felt the metal at the front. You wiggled out of the bed and went to the vanity where you kept some of your personal effects. It was a pretty thing. All black leather and the clasp was silver, or at the very least the parts you could see looked to be silver. "Do you like it?" He asked and you were shocked by the question. "Yes it's very beautiful, thank you." There was an odd feeling churning in your gut as you looked at it. You ran a finger between your throat and the band, tugging at it. It didn't budge. "I had considered waiting till you awoke to explain, but I allowed myself a moment of impatience. Forgive me." It wasn't a question, and that surprised you as well. "Ferrus, is everything okay?" This wasn't like him. Of course he'd made you many gifts in your time together, but the choker wasn't coming off.

He stood from the bed and padded towards you. His hands reach for your shoulders. "I intended for it to be an engagement gift." It wasn't a lie, this was how he intended to show the universe that you belonged to him from now on. "Engagement?" You squeaked. The worry and panic drove from your mind as he took your much smaller hand in his. "If you would honor me with your hand in marriage I would be forever joyful." He kissed your palm and fingers. "Yes! Of course!" You practically jumped him, kissing his lips over and over as he held you. "Very good, I will begin preparations for our impending nuptials then." You held onto him and pressed your face against his. He was your iron giant and you did love him deeply. You felt foolish for having doubted him for even a moment. And surely he would remove it if you asked that of him.

Ferrus carried you back to the bed and set you down. Stepping back to remove his massive shirt and pants. You began to tug at your nightgown but he stopped you before you could. "Stay dressed for now." He reached down and touched your chin softly with one gigantic metal finger. "I will remove it myself." He purred. "Very well my lord." You replied, taking his cool hand and kissing it. Ferrus's silver eyes fluttered shut at the gentle touch, of all the affections you imparted on him. He loved the softest ones the most.

You spent the morning in his chambers. He was pleased that you hadn't questioned the necklace after. Though it may have been difficult given how thoroughly he fucked you. Even as he sat in his workshop, the general outline of the celebration laying open on his desk his cock hardened at the memory of you, splayed out under him, chest bouncing as he fucked you, the emblem of his legion shining at your throat. You were his.

He took scraps of precious metals that he'd set aside and began to work on a set of rings. The movement of his work easing his mind further.

The day drew closer more quickly than expected. And much to your sadness most of his brothers would not be able to make it in that time frame. But you had received back many congratulations and the promise that they would stop by in person when available to celebrate properly. However on a lighter note Fulgrim would be there, as would Perturabo and Vulkan. Given that they were close enough and their schedules allowed for it. Though Fulgrim wouldn't have missed it for the universe. In his own words.

You welcomed him back the day before your ceremony, Vulkan was not far behind apparently and Perturabo was with him. You sat, shaky from nerves as you poured Fulgrim a glass of red wine and sat across from him. His eyes fixed on the band around your throat and it was distracting you. "Is something the matter with my attire?" You chuckled, a bit jittery. Fulgrim seemed to come up from whatever trance he'd been in and shook his head. "No, of course not, you are as ever, most splendidly adorned." Fulgrim and always wondered about the pairing of yourself and his brother, such a dichotomy was unexpected. You were a jewel amongst the iron of the legion. Perhaps that is why Ferrus coveted you so fiercely. Fulgrim had been jesting with his brother some weeks prior but if he had a woman like yourself, surely he too would keep you close to his chest. Fulgrim didn't have to have the technical knowledge of his builder brothers to know that what was around your throat was not just a pretty bauble or fashion piece. It served multiple functions, and he knew that once Perturabo saw it, he would have an even greater understanding of the function than he. He kept his thoughts about it just that; thoughts. The pheonician had no reason to suspect his most beloved brother of anything uncouth. You had to know, and the black band had to be for your own safety.

He quickly changed the topic. "Have you prepared everything for the celebration?" He smiled cheekily, "May I see the dress?" You returned his smile and nodded. "Of course." You hopped up and Fulgrim downed the rest of his wine in one smooth motion. You led him back to the personal room you had been given free reign over. There were supplies for crafts and art and anything else your heart might have longed for. "I've kept it in this closet here so that it's out of the way and so that Ferrus wouldn't see it by accident before it was time." Fulgrim nodded sagely. "Did you know that on ancient Terra it was, in some cultures, considered bad luck for the groom to see his bride in her dress before the ceremony began?" You smiled up at your soon to be brother in law. "I did not know that. How did you come across that fact?" Fulgrim shrugged and sat on the lounge Ferrus had made for you. "I read it in a book in one of my father's expansive libraries. I found the information rather fascinating. As I had had six wives of my own in the past." You gasped softly. "I had no idea you were ever married." He nodded as you fetched the bag with the garment in it.

"Some political marriages, but others were for love." He explained. "Well perhaps I should consider asking you for some advice then." His eyes lit up as he saw the fabric, silver with black accents, the color of the Iron Hands. "Do you think he will appreciate it? I was so precise with the seamstresses, I just had to make sure it was perfect." Fulgrim didn't reach out for the fabric, though he might have liked to. "Oh it is absolutely stunning. I look forward to seeing it on you later." You blushed thinking about the upcoming ceremony, your heart rate jumping up in tempo as you imagined Ferrus in his formal attire.

Ferrus glanced down at the screen that displayed your vitals. Your heart rate had jumped up, he pressed the location screen and saw that you were in the private room he'd assigned to be your creative space. You were meant to be with Fulgrim while he finished last minute preparations and joined you. His blood began to heat and he tried to calm himself. He had to trust his brother wouldn't be doing anything with his soon to be bride. Yet the thought worried at him like a dog with a bone.

He stood without speaking and his sons turned to watch him go, only returning to work once he'd vanished from sight. His foot fell way heavy as he moved through the halls of his fortress, eager to find you and put his terrible thoughts to rest.

Fulgrim's laugh lilted through the air, a sound of amusement at your latest joke. You had taken to telling stories and jokes to pass the time. You too were chuckling at your own humor. The door burst open and you fell from your seat. You startled so hard. "Ferrus! Goodness, need you be so forceful with the doors?" You stood up, adrenaline making you a bit shaky as your body realized there was no threat. He scooped you up into strong arms and held you. "You were not in the place you should have been." You pressed a hand to his cheek. "I am sorry my love, Fulgrim wished to see the dress and time got away from us. I did not mean to worry you. I should have told you that we wouldn't be there." Fulgrim stood to greet his brother but something in your words gave him pause. If the choker had a tracker in it. Then why would you have needed to tell him where you would be. Ferrus saw his expression and the two shared a glance, silent understanding moved between the two men and Fulgrim felt a trail of ice run down his spine. You didn't know. He bit his tongue, he shouldn't have but he did. You had no idea that Ferrus had done anything additional to that band around your neck. The hardness in his silver eyes unsettled Fulgrim. He would have to discuss this with him later, but he didn't want to ruin the union before it even occurred. After a long few moments Ferrus set you down. You offered to run and grab the wine from before. Ferrus nodded, sending you away. "You disapprove." He accused, and Fulgrim huffed. "Of course. You put a collar on her, and you're using it to track her every move. Do you trust your own fiance so little that you need to know where she is at all times?" Ferrus growled, his hands balling into silver fists. "It is not her that I do not trust." Fulgrim reeled as if he'd been slapped. "I certainly hope that you do not mean what I believe you to mean. Brother." He spat the last word. "You expressed your interest the last time we were together. Why should I not be extra cautious?" Fulgrim felt his own anger rising. "Because I would never touch her, she is your fiance and soon to be your wife. And even if that were not so I would still not try and take her from you. I agree that I said what may have been in poor taste, but it was never to imply that I would take her from you. Only that you were lucky in finding a woman such as her." Fulgrim sighed exasperated. Ferrus's fists unclench and he takes a deep breath. "You are not the only one. I see the way men look at her, the way they stare." Fugrim huffed again. "Of course they stare, Ferrus, she is beautiful. It is only human nature to admire things of beauty." If anyone would know it would be his art hoarding fiend of a brother.

"I fear that I will lose her." Ferrus admitted. "She is not like me. But I love her so completely, Fulgrim." Fulgrim sat next to him. "I know that you do brother, but you discredit her by assuming she can be taken from you. She spent the whole discussion about the dress worrying and gushing about the details as she wanted to be reassured that you would be pleased by it. She loves you just as deeply, of that I am convinced." Ferrus felt a terrible stab of guilt. Perhaps the collar was a bit much. "You should at the very least tell her about the collar. Or take it off. She has the right to choose."

Ferrus sighed. "I will remove it tonight." He agreed and Fulgrim patted his shoulder. "Tomorrow she will be yours in a way no one could ever hope to match. Let that be good enough, and let her prove herself through her own actions." "Thank you, Fulgrim." Ferrus turned as he heard you returning. "You two having fun in here without me?" You chuckled and sat down on Ferrus's lap, passing off the wine to Fulgrim. "Never without you my love." Ferrus murmured into your hair and held you close. You had already decided you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. That was enough for him. He fingered the collar and reaffirmed his choice. Tonight he will take it off. And tomorrow trade the collar for a ring. It was the correct thing to do, and it was what you deserved. A husband who not only loved and desired, but trusted as well.

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