#I know kids are not their parents of course | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seosracha · 15 hours ago

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⸻ SAINT MATTHEW'S ACADEMY

─"do you know about all the filth that goes on in here?"

SYNOPSIS ⸻ being a smart kid comes with a lot of advantages; one of them being a full scholarship to one of the best schools in the country. one of the best school's that's filled to the brim with disgustingly rich teenagers. Heeseung knows you're not like them, and he also knows that'll be easy to take advantage of.

PAIRING ⸻ toxic!heeseung x innocentfem!reader

GENRE ⸻ strangers to lovers, private school au, smut, fluff, angst (idek tbh)

TAGS ⸻ characters are all 18 or older, toxic relationships, misogyny, alcohol abuse, smoking, marijuana/cannabis mention, partying, underage drinking, foul language, cheating (not really though) power imbalance, abuse (punches are getting thrown..) , kinda love triangle?? , making out, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), virginity loss, p in v, pet names, unprotected sex, creampie, tell me if i missed something!

WORDCOUNT ⸻ 21k

everything here is FICTIONAL, it is not real. this was created for entertainment purposes only. MINORS DNI.

“No Eunseok, I don’t want to go anywhere!” you grit your teeth, backing away from your older brother.

He sighed, and with his hand pulled your wrist towards the doorway. You were acting like a brat, and he had absolutely no interest in fighting with you right now. From your standpoint, you had every reason to be behaving this way.

“There are thousands- no, millions of people your age who would die for an opportunity like this, and you're going to act like a child? Grow up, Y/n” he let out a steady breath as an attempt to calm himself down.

In some way, you put yourself in this situation. Flawless scores on all your exams, juggling multiple extracurriculars and excelling at every single one of them, participating in every Model UN you could get your hands on, making a name for yourself- being somebody. It all led to you being noticed by prestigious schools, who practically begged to host you, even though deep down, you were a nobody.

Your parents weren't snobby rich people, who thrived off of other people's ideas and failure. They weren't greedy either, working normal 9 to 5 jobs.

When you were merely 12 years old they had left to go work at your uncle's company overseas, hoping that it’ll allow them to make enough money to pay for your brother’s med school tuition and potentially have the money to fund a future clinic of his. They promised to come back as soon as Eunseok finished school and started a stable job. But they never did.

Eunseok, who was 7 years older than you, was always the favorite child. No matter how well you did or how bad he did, Eunseok was number one in your parents' hearts. There was never a family reunion where Eunseok’s medical career as a surgeon wasn't brought up- and when it did end up getting shoved into the conversation, it didn't stop until all the lights turned off.

And of course, you felt bad for your brother. He had to balance taking care of you and being a surgeon for fucks sake, but that didn't mean you couldn't feel lonely most of the time. You had a free hand when it came to inviting friends over, but unfortunately their strict parents and every other circumstance never allowed them to stay longer than one night. Your only family, your older brother who you looked up to was just never there, and you just sank deeper into your loneliness whenever he called and apologized for a sudden surgery that came up.

But still, Eunseok, was just perfect, you had no choice but to try and keep up with him.

So when the letter from Saint Matthew’s Academy came in the mail, offering you a spot in their school, with the tuition fully paid for by them, you didn't even think twice.

And now you regret that, badly.

St. Matthews Academy was a private school next to the town you grew up in. It was also an exceptionally expensive place, with tuition fees racking up to about $80.000 per year. Going there would be a privilege to most people your age, but the students there saw it as a regular school without anything special to offer them. Even if they weren't going to inherit their parents’ company's, they were truly set up for the rest of their lives anyways.

You hadn't really done any research on the school before accepting their offer, only aware of their students academic achievements and high level of education. The more you found out, the more the idea of being a student terrified you.

You would stick out like a sore thumb amidst the successful people who had a chairman position prescribed before birth.

“It’ll be okay, do you think if I let the fear get to me, I’d be a SNU alumni now?” Eunseok asked, focused on the road as he drove you right into the gates of your own, personal hell.

“We get it, you finished SNU and are a surgeon now, blah blah blah” you said, and he rolled his eyes playfully.

“I’m just trying to help you. I doubt those kids are going to be that bad. They have a reputation to upkeep anyways, can’t be caught bullying” he tried to calm you down, but everytime he opened his mouth, he just made it worse.

“Eunseok, you’re making it worse” you murmured, tucking at the skin of your thumb. He placed his hand on yours, preventing you from continuing with your bad habits “That’s exactly why I’m scared. These kids are disgustingly rich, and people like us- well we're like ants compared to them. They have an image to polish, and I have none of that” you continued, and he frowned lightly, his heart breaking at your, his little sisters, words.

“Do you seriously think you got to be in this position cause you’re a nobody? I don’t think regular and undeserving people have been given a full scholarship to a school like Saint Matthew’s. Nobody has been given a scholarship from them really” Eunseok said, making you feel slightly more confident “I can turn around, you can withdraw, but I think you’ll regret that” he said, with a light smile which you reciprocated.

Maybe you should have told him to turn around back then, maybe you should've denied the offer or thrown it away the moment you saw the letter with that heinous stamp.

_____

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't stop thinking about what your first day was going to be like. Some dreams portrayed you as the future top 3 of the school, and some seemed to make you out to be the outcast loser who can’t seem to find anyone who’d befriend her.

It was nearly impossible to get those images out of your head. You thought about lying about your background, falsifying stories about your parents who own giant multi-utility corporations that supply petrol and energy to half the country, but that was pointless.

You could either be made fun of for lying or made fun of for being a ‘poor nobody’. None of them seemed right, but one didn't lead to being incredibly embarrassed for the rest of highschool.

The building did not have any correlation with the one that you imagined, the one that you constantly dreamed about. It looked nothing like the modern, smart, couple story construction that clouded your mind beyond arrival, and because of their strict laws, pictures and videos of both the inside and outside were strictly prohibited.

So all you had left was to make up your own assumptions, and the old fashioned, palace looking property was definitely not one of them. You assumed that the millions of dollars in tuition that flow into the headmaster's account every year could at least allow him to renovate the building.

But it seemed as if the gray, dirty, moss covered outer walls had a special meaning you didn't quite understand.

You definitely weren't a sucker for historical architecture, and this building looked more like a nightmare than a dream to you.

At the front office, the lady had confiscated your phone, with a smile explaining why they do it, and asking you to pick it up after classes are over. She had a creepy aura surrounding her, and you begged for her small introduction to finish as soon as possible.

“I’ll let Wonyoung, your class president, give you a tour around our school. She should be here in a moment, dear” she smiled eagerly at you, and you found it hard to reciprocate her seemingly innocent expression.

You never expected Wonyoung to be an actual angel, her figure already shining brightly as she strides towards you. You wondered how it was possible for someone to make a school uniform look this good. Her hair was long and silky, and her bangs just looked fake with how fresh and bouncy they were.

You smoothed down your uniform and fixed up your hair as she got closer to you and the eerie lady next to you.

“You're the new student, right?” she waved at you, and shot you with a pretty smile.

You had no idea how to behave, acknowledging that she probably came from a wealthy family that practically owns the country.

But Wonyoung was a little different. Her parents didn't own any big corporations or participate in any other money making schemes. Both her mom and dad met on the set for a movie that later led them to become the highest paid actors in the industry. It was pretty comical to say she was different as she still was considered a product of nepotism in the modeling world that she was so active in. She hadn't even finished highschool, but had already walked for brands like Gucci, Prada, Louis Vuitton, Maison Margiela and more. Maybe it was her pretty face or just her parents' wild connections.

“Mind if I give you a small tour? It can get complicated around here” she asked, her tone so delicate.

If anything you should be thanking her for sparing you with a little bit of time, thanking her for even allowing someone like you to be in the presence of someone like her.

You nodded your head not able to let a single word out, afraid to embarrass yourself. With a smile Wonyoung locked her arm with yours, and kept you close by her side as she showed you around the place.

“This is the cafeteria, but I wouldn't recommend you going there, the food is awful” she said, and you laughed lightly at her expression.

Was it awful cause it wasn't a three course meal with caviar, steak and truffles for dessert or was it actually not that good. You really did not fit in here and you haven't met anyone else.

“Well I see that guy is enjoying it” you commented, noticing a tall, skinny boy laughing with his friend as he consumed something you couldn't quite recognize.

Wonyoung laughed, in the most elegant way possible, and her cheeks flushed a light shade of pink “That’s Park Sunghoon, my boyfriend. He will eat anything, seriously” she stated and you nodded with a chuckle.

Park Sunghoon was son to Park Jiwon, the CEO of ParkJin Electronics. His mother had worked hard all her life to build up her own empire, resulting in him being raised mainly by nannies and his cousins. Still, he was spoiled and cocky, his family allegedly had royal roots, and even though he didn't know himself, he boasted about it every single occasion he got. He didn't seem to care much about studying, since he was the only child his mother ever had, he was next in line to inherit her electronic empire. Yet something in him felt the desire to prove to everyone that no matter what, he deserved to take over.

He also surrounded himself with people of the same social status and net worth as him, so that’s probably why he treated Wonyoung so differently, even though she was his literal girlfriend. Wonyoung was rich, but she could never compare to the millions his mother earned yearly.

Yet he was so good at pretending and gaslighting the girl into believing she's the bad person for lashing out on him after he called her ‘the type of person who polishes shoes for people like him’. He was just joking around, right? But the poor girl took it because the good moments overshadowed the absolute idiot Park Sunghoon was capable of being.

“And next to him? Who’s that” you asked, politely pointing towards the blond boy next to him who’s jawline looked like it was shaped by Micheal Angelo himself.

“That’s Jongseong, but we just call him Jay,” Wonyoung answered, looking at you with a pretty smile. Did everything she does have to be so annoyingly beautiful and perfect?

Park Jay was born in Seattle, so he was the American heartthrob that flexed his posh English skills in order to pull girls he had no interest in having serious relationships with. His dad owned the biggest hospital in the country, and on top of that had plastic surgery salons opened in practically every city. His parents had divorced when his dad's businesses started to gain popularity and bring in more money. His father assumed that his wife no longer appealed to him, and she would just be like a parasite- living off of his success. And since Jay had been harshly raised by his rough father, he shared the same opinion about his mother. Not having a motherly figure present in his life, surrounding himself with his fathers girlfriends who were only 10 years older than him, he became a Andrew Tate worshiping incel who’s main focus was making money and convincing everyone to join his self-betterment program.

“He’s nice, but I think his political and social views are a little far from the ones that girls like us have” she attempted to explain, and pretty quickly you understood he’s a misogynist.

“I see, is your boyfriend the same?” you asked, trying to sound as polite as you can, since you didn't quite know where Wonyoung wouldl draw the line.

“No, at least I’d hope he isn't” she chuckled lightly, and slowly tugged you towards another large hall in the school “He was raised by women, his dad passed away when he was around 3, so I guess he has at least some respect for us” she added, and you nodded in understanding.

“This school is really freaking big, I don’t know if I’ll be able to find my way around here” you commented and she chuckled at your use of words.

“You can say fucking, I really don’t mind” Wonyoung looked at you, and you breathed out a steady breath “I don’t want you to think of us as some posh, elegant and royal like teenagers who use a fork and knife every time they eat. I genuinely think most of us are pretty normal considering our backgrounds” she explained, and you had to stifle a laugh.

Although Wonyoung seemed like an incredibly nice and sweet girl, she truly had no idea how privileged she was. Truly, her only worry was you not thinking she’s a snobby rich kid. And that applied to all of them, you just didn't see yourself empathizing with these people, seeing how you were raised in two completely different worlds.

“It’s my first time talking to people like you, don't have much experience” you smiled and raised your hands in guilt.

She laughed at your action, and asked “What do you mean, what do your parents do then?”

You didn't want to answer that question, you didn't even want anyone to ask it in the first place. But you had to answer honestly.

“Both of my parents live overseas, but they're no one special. My dad is a construction worker and my mom has a simple office job” you said, and she didn't seem to laugh or find your parents’ profession amusing in any way “I live with my brother, he’s a surgeon” you added, and she seemed to light up at the mention.

“I want to be a surgeon too!” she beamed and you smiled as she ignored and didn't care about the fact that you weren't the future heiress of a major conglomerate “I need to speak to your brother one day, maybe he’ll give me some advice” she added and with a smile you assured her you’ll set up a meeting for the two of them one day.

She pulled you through a dark, narrow, dimly lit hallway to a giant room with a high ceiling where most of the students were currently spending their time.

“This is the common room” she said, as the two of you stood in the entryway.

Laughter ringed in your ears as you attempted to examine every student present in the area.

“Let me introduce you to Niki!” she beamed and pulled your wrist towards the unknown boy.

Niki was the son of the owners of the biggest pharmaceutical company in the country. Even though he had no interest in taking over the business, his younger sister wasn't seen as competent enough to take over, so he was forced to be the next CEO. His parents and Jay’s father were close friends, planning on merging the two companies by arranging a marriage between Jay’s younger sister and Niki. His true passion was dance, he hated everything that had to do with medication, but he knew there was no chance he’d ever get to pursue his passion for a living.

“Niki!” she called to the boy, and he turned around, swiftly taking off his headphones.

“Not gonna go shop for makeup with you today, forget it” he claimed, not even noticing you standing right next to her.

“Oh please, as if I’d want to go with you” she sneered and he chuckled under his breath. “I wanted to introduce you to Y/n, she’s new here!” she continued, and he took a judging look at you.

Or at least it felt as if he was judging you, scanning you up and down as if you weren't wearing the same exact uniform as him. But quickly he shot you with a small smile, and stuck his hand out for you to shake. You applied and as nicely as you could, returned the expression.

“You’ll regret coming here, Y/n” he warned with a laugh, and you chuckled, but deep down felt like maybe he wasn't joking.

“Stop scaring her” Wonyoung said sternly, and he looked at her with a raised eyebrow “I like it here, don’t listen to him Y/nnie”

“Maybe because you're a fucking nerd who’s a teachers pet?” he asked sarcastically, and Wonyoung just rolled her eyes playfully.

You stood there listening to their bickering, already getting a weird feeling that you didn't really belong here, these people were not the usual kind you surround yourself with.

“What brings you here?” he asked, which turned your attention back to the two people in front of you.

“I got an invitation, full ride scholarship and all” you explained and his eyes widened.

“You're a smart girl, aren't you?” he asked, and you chuckled lightly.

“You could say that, I guess” you said, and he looked towards Wonyoung.

“I guess you’ll finally have a smarty pants friend to talk to about the theory of relativity, or whatever you call it” he cooed, and she flipped him off.

“Jake used to be my nerdy bestie, well until he started hanging out with Jay and attending his dumbass courses” she laughed looking towards you, and he did the same nodding his head.

“Let’s be honest, ever since they created their little frat circle with Heeseung and Sunghoon, they suffered insane brain damage. But the courses were also bad enough” Niki inquired, and she laughed, agreeing with him.

Jake’s parents were real estate giants, owning at least half of the properties in the city. He had been raised with the thought of taking over his parents’ business, so he was actually the only one in his friend circle that studied and strived to achieve something. His mother or father would never let him take over if he had nothing in his head. Jake actually wanted to become a real estate agent, because after seeing his parents succeed, he wanted to be just like them.

“What exactly are these courses about?” you asked, and Niki quickly opened his phone to show you the website Jay and his computer geek friend Jungwon set up.

You didn't even bother asking the boy how he managed to sneak a phone in, assuming the one lying in the basket at the front desk, was probably one of his many devices.

“He tries to convince men that they need to unleash their inner sigma to fully embrace their manliness or something like that” he explained as you grabbed his phone to look through the website.

It looked like a failed IT project they had to do in class, and honestly you didn't understand why anyone would trust him enough to receive life advice.

“I can't believe that people actually listen to his advice” you commented, handing back Niki his phone.

“That’s not even the worst of it, he genuinely thinks that if men were to become pregnant, they would give birth in two weeks since they’re stronger, something along those lines” Wonyoung added, and you couldn't help but burst out laughing.

Maybe you were getting along with them, but the eerie atmosphere around you and the blank stares you received from other students grounded you.

“Yo new girl, wanna come to a party tonight?” Niki turned towards you with a questioning expression.

You have been studying your whole life, cramming information until late hours of the night, which resulted in you having to give up your social life or anything of that sort. You had friends, but never the time to go out with them. So this would be your first party ever, and you had no idea how to behave.

“Sure,” you replied, not giving it any more thought. If you started overthinking it, you’d probably deny the request.

“Put in your number, I’ll send you the address” he gave you his phone once again, and you swiftly typed in your digits, saving your contact under ‘Song Y/n’.

“Show me your schedule, I’ll walk you to your next class” Wonyoung turned to you, and you dug up the crumbled piece of paper you received at the front office.

_______

Niki had eventually texted you the address, offering a ride along with it, unless you already had one. You gladly accepted his offer, although his kindness seemed weird and suspicious to you.

Maybe you just weren't used to people being nice to you simply out of human decency and without any ulterior motives, but someone as high up and rich as Niki or Wonyoung should not be bothered by someone like you. They definitely shouldn't be offering you rides in their expensive sports cars.

“Oh c’mon Wony, we gotta give our transfer the princess treatment” he said, shooing her away from the passenger seat with his hand.

She rolled her eyes playfully, but agreed to give up her front seat, which you tried to convince her to take back for a little over a minute.

“No Y/nnie, you're probably going to meet our little devil tonight, you need as much peace as you can get before that” she assured, and you just shook your head at her reluctance.

“And who exactly are you talking about?” you asked, turning around to once again face Wonyoung who already got comfortable in the back seat.

“I’ll ask you that question tomorrow morning, it’s more fun that we keep it a secret for now” she giggled childishly, and Niki nodded his head approvingly at her idea.

You sighed sarcastically, and tried to remember any person they didn't go into full detail about just a couple of hours ago. Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, all of them kept getting mixed up in your head as you had no real idea as to what the three looked like. You passed by the cafeteria with Wonyoung earlier, where you didn’t quite register what Jay and Sunghoon looked like. Maybe it’s someone completely different, or someone affiliated with the three guys you had a fair amount of information about.

“You drink, don’t you?” Niki asked, turning his head to face you for just a mere second, before focusing his eyes back on the road.

“Not really” you answered unbothered.

Drinking was nothing to be proud about anyways, and assuming Niki doesn't want to lose his recently acquired drivers license, he probably wasn't going to do it either.

“Same here. Me and Wony don’t drink” he smiled “But the rest of them, their a different kind of fucked up. Especially your precious, sweet, innocent boyfriend, Wonyoung” he added, and looked at the girl through his rear view mirror.

She screwed her face jokingly “Sunghoon doesn't drink that much, at least now that he’s with me” she defended, and he scoffed.

“And you’re stupid for thinking he’s not getting shit faced every weekend with his demonic cult of a friend group” he commented, and she huffed in annoyance crossing her arms.

“Y/nnie, you know what Hoon looks like, right?” she turned her attention to you.

You shook your head, causing her to pull out her phone in order to present you with pictures of her beloved boyfriend.

He was smoking fucking hot, but his expression and lack of emotion on every picture made you think that maybe Niki was right, he truly looked like he didn't give a single fuck about the girl. Well it seems to be working out for them so far, so who are you to butt in.

“Keep an eye on him, I need to prove that my boyfriend is not the alcoholic and druggie you-” she pointed her finger at Niki “make him out to be”

“No problem” you smiled and she excitedly held your hand.

“Just when you do catch him chugging down shot glasses like a pig, don't tell her cause she won't believe you anyways” he murmured, but the both of you heard him anyways.

You turned to Wonyoung and rolled your eyes playfully which she gave you a hushed giggle at, agreeing with whatever you were thinking about.

The road felt like it had been going on forever, you swore you already saw the same street signs and lanterns a couple minutes back. It felt like Niki had been going in circles, but those thoughts were most likely caused by your absence in this area of town.

After what felt like an eternity in Niki’s uncomfortable low-floor car, that was impossible to get comfortable in, he had finally pulled over into a gravel filled space. In the distance a modern house was illuminated by colorful lights, and the music could be quietly heard from the place you were standing in.

The interior of the place was suffocating you, the music giving you a headache, the smell of cigarettes, weed, alcohol and sweat seeping into your skin, as you and Wonyoung pushed through the crowd. Wonyoung didn't seem to be affected as she pushed through the bodies in order to find her boyfriend who she must have missed terribly for the past five hours.

“Sunghoonnie!” she beamed, and his body instantly turned to the sound of her squeaky voice.

He was hard to read, you didn't exactly know if he was excited to see her or praying for her to leave him and his friends alone. He held a glass with a brownish liquid in his hand, and you knew for a fact Wonyoung was trying to ignore it or pretend it wasn't what everyone else knew it was.

Sunghoon was obviously drinking whiskey.

Even they're choice of alcohol was so different from what you knew back in your public school. Those kids could barely afford the cheapest liquor, and here you were witnessing Sunghoon and his friends downing bottles worth more than the pocket money your brother gave you every month.

“Oh great, two Wonyoung’s. Can’t women just stick to painting their nails and doing their makeup? This is not the place for you” Jay commented as he finally noticed the two of you.

“Did your daddy teach you that? I wasn't talking to you, dickhead” the girl next to you answered with a sarcastic pout to her face.

“I’m Jake” the brown haired boy stuck his hand out “You're new, right?”

Wonyoung had already let you go to entertain her boyfriend who obviously was not having it. Even as she was eating his face, he wasn't half as passionate about it as she was.

“Yeah” you took his hand “Y/n”

He had a devilish grin as he and the blond boy exchanged glances.

“So where are you coming from?” Jake asked, but his eyes weren't even focused on your face, instead staring right into your partially exposed chest.

You sighed, and leaned against the wall “Doesn't matter” maybe you had a terrible judgment of character, but you knew that admitting to coming from a public, low income school would end you right then and there.

“You’re right, it doesn't” he smirked, hoping that you had understood his intentions by now, “Want a drink?” he asked, turning around to unveil a couple glasses and a bottle of Dalmore whiskey.

“I don't really drink” you explained, trying to keep up with your nonchalant facade that you prayed would spare you some embarrassment tonight.

It felt stressful to be around them, their demeanor intimidating.

“Oh c’mon, one little glass never hurt anyone” Jay uttered, already pouring a glass that he was shoving into your hand a couple seconds later.

He looked incredibly hot doing so, his slicked back blond hair and white button down almost making you forget he’s a mentally unstable and misogynistic idiot.

Did they all have to be so irresistibly hot? Was being rich not enough?

“Drink it, there’s a reward afterwards” he added, as his attempts to place the glass in your hand turned out to be successful.

“Only if you’re a good girl” Jake added, and Jay with a devilish smile hit his shoulder.

You examined the glass, remembering all the stories of boys spiking drinks with drugs that Shotaro told you about, but all that seemed so unimportant right now.

You promised yourself to never go against what your mind told you, but that was broken the minute you downed the glass, the unfamiliar, burning flavor coating your throat.

“Atta girl” Jake praised, as he took the glass from your hand.

“Women are so easy, it’s crazy” Jay whispered, assuring you wouldn't hear his words “Let me pour you another one” he said, his voice a little louder this time.

You shook your head, but he seemed to ignore that all together, grabbing the cup and filling it to the brim once again.

“Drink up” Jake slurred, and focused his eyes onto the way your throat looked while you swallowed the liquid.

They were disgusting. The way they objectified you, the way they looked at you like you were going to let them hit without any problems.

The boys you knew would make jokes, but they’d never act on it like Jay and Jake did.

You slammed the glass on the table where it was previously laid, and without a word turned away from the two men who were clearly confused about your sudden departure.

“We’ll see each other soon, yeah?” Jake called, and with a forced smile you mouthed a ‘Maybe’.

“She still doesn't know about all the filth that goes on in here, eh?” Jay chuckled devilishly, and Jake smirked, pouring himself a drink in the cup you left behind.

You had already thought that Wonyoung and Niki were completely different from the people you used to surround yourself with, but after meeting Jake and Jay, you cursed yourself for even thinking that. You had given up your social life, so meeting new people regularly was never something that you did, but you never met someone so deranged. Were the girls at this school all so easy and compliant to their orders? You just wondered where their ego came from.

Squeezing through all the damp bodies was definitely a challenge, but finding a quiet and empty room surely made it worth it.

The room was practically empty, you assumed something that was supposed to resemble a guest bedroom, but you doubted any guest would wanna sleep here. A single bed in the middle of the large room was not enough.

You closed the door behind you with a quiet squeak, and threw yourself on the bed, your eyes facing the ceiling.

Amongst the weird smell that surrounded the room a voice called you “You're the new girl, aren't you?”

You didn't notice the open balcony door upon entering.

Your body automatically turned to face the voice, a handsome and presumably tall boy sat on one of the plastic chairs. Smoke circled around him as he looked at you with heavy eyelids, taking another hit from the joint between his fingers.

You leaned your head on the palm of your hand “How do you know?”

“News spreads fast around here. You don’t know, do you?” he gave you a childish smile, and with a nod to his head he without a word offered you to smoke with him, which you declined.

“What’s your name?” you asked him, his dark eyes bringing discomfort to your body.

“Why should I tell you, transfer?” he laughed, and you stiffened up at his answer. “It’s Heeseung” he said after a moment, noticing that you were not enjoying his jokes.

Lee Heeseung was the youngest son of Lee Guwon and Kim Shinhye, the founders and owners of the largest hotel line in the country. They just recently went international, opening yet another hotel-restaurant in the heart of Singapore. His older sister, Lee Rina, had no interest in the company, firmly convinced that it's a greedy industry. She moved to Norway to study and just never came back. But his older brother, Lee Haejun, was different. He was stuck on the idea of becoming the next CEO. After both him and Heeseung were old enough to understand what benefits came with being a leader of a major hotel line, they stopped treating each other like brothers, instead focusing on the rivalry that was brewing. They wanted so badly to prove to their father who's more competent, who deserves it more, that at one point it became too much.

Heeseung at one point no longer wanted any of it. He just wanted his brother back. Haejun just never was the same brother Heeseung learned to love. He didn't care. Heeseung felt like he lost both of his siblings although they weren't actually gone.

“I don’t think they mentioned you” you murmured, trying to recall the conversations you had with Wonyoung and Niki.

“Wonyoung and Niki? Probably because they don't like me” he laughed, and put out his blunt on the tiles of the balcony, throwing what was left into a jar filled with water.

“They like everyone, I think it’s a ‘you’ problem” you assumed, and he scoffed.

His body sluggishly stood up from the chair, as he tried to not fall over the balcony “Both of them are fake as fuck, and I don’t think you’re one to judge”

You sighed “You don’t know them”

“I know them better than you, transfer” he chuckled, “They always cuddle up to new students, just like Wonyoung did to Jake, and whenever they go slightly out of line, they drop them” he explained, and you foolishly didn't believe his words, choosing to stand with your new friends who you in reality, knew nothing about.

“I don’t know, I don't think the Jake that I just met, and got forced to drink by, is a good example” you murmured, playing with your hair, avoiding eye contact with the boy.

He had this dark aura surrounding him, his hooded eyes just adding into his image, making him look much more scary.

He slowly moved towards you, accompanying you on the silk covered bed. That’s when you could truly analyze his face; bloodshot, brown eyes, a curve to his lips, his nose slightly pointed and eyebrows straight. His skin was glistening, a soft tan to it. He looked at you so intensely, and you couldn't quite reciprocate, scared of his intimidating presence.

“Jake was always like this, they just didn't know how to handle him” he smiled, his hand inching closer to where your legs lied “They love saying that Jay ruined him, but he didn't even have to do that”

“What do you mean by having to do that? Why would he have to?” you asked, as your body froze, not allowing you to move further away from him.

He didn't stop attempting to close the gap between the two of you “You know what I mean” he smirked “This isn't the place you think it is, pretty girl. We can't have a goody two shoes prancing around” his smile was straight, as his hand moved to sooth your lower thigh.

You never were this close to a boy before.

“I still don't get it” you said, your voice trembling as he moved further up.

“You don't need to, you’ll see for yourself. Soon, don't worry” he cooed, and you could feel his sinister words burn through your skin.

“You like this? Tell me” he asked, his grip on your thigh tightened, and you felt words get stuck in your throat.

“ I don’t know you, Heeseung” you answered out of breath.

He liked the way his name slipped from your lips, your tone mellow and soothing. He could definitely get used to it.

“You don’t need to know everyone you want to have a little fun with” his eyes twinkled slightly, as he spoke softly, trying to distract you from his touch moving to places you probably wouldn't like him being in.

“Do you do this to every girl you just meet?” you piqued, and he chuckled, finally taking out his hand from under your dress in order to move a strand of hair out of your face.

“Only the ones I find pretty” he answered.

Heeseung was such a lightweight, he couldn't stop his smile and laughter as he played with you, knowing you could pretend, but not resist him. He wanted to undress you right there and then, behind an unlocked door, which he’d hoped some disgusting pervert like Jake would open, they could perhaps have you together, share your body. But he was smarter than that. He couldn't alienate you so early on.

“Maybe another time” you murmured, giving up your previous position to stand up from the bed.

He didn't let you, standing up with you, blocking you from walking to the door. He stumbled a little bit, but managed to hold you down.

“You wanted to get to know me, what happened to that?” he whispered.

“I never said that” you replied, and attempted once again to leave the room.

No one has ever had this effect on you. You didn't truly want to leave, not only his firm stance was keeping you away from that door.

You had boyfriends, but all of them were too scared to even hold your hand in public, not to mention kiss you. So you were aware of these things, but not familiar with them.

“Why do you have to be so tough? I just want to make you feel good? What’s the crime in that?” he cooed, and brought his hand up to caress your cheek.

“I always wanted it to be special, not some one night stand” you voiced, and he hummed.

It felt so weird and embarrassing to talk to him like this. You didn't know him. You also couldn't say no, cause some part of you wanted it too.

Maybe it’s because you wanted to fit in, maybe because you didn't want to be any different from the people that went to this school. But you’d always be different- as long as your parents weren't owners of a giant conglomerate or business, you’d always be different.

“My sweet girl is a virgin? That’s okay, don’t be embarrassed” he cooed, and squeezed your hand tightly.

You never knew how hard it is to be sober and talk to a high person. He just didn't fully comprehend the environment that surrounded him, not a single ounce of fear or embarrassment in his veins, just nothingness.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked with a soft voice.

Heeseung knew exactly what he was doing, he knew exactly how his slurred words sounded and how they affected you.

You nodded, and he grabbed your jaw, pulling you into his embrace. Nothing could have prepared you for his wet, plump lips that molded perfectly into yours. You felt so good against him, and he couldn't find himself pulling away, the bulge in his pants growing as you fingers slightly brushed along the longer strands of hair on the back of his head.

It was all so new to you. Maybe it was the alcohol that Jake and Jay forced down your throat, or maybe you just couldn't help but naturally feel attracted to Heeseung. It’s been barely 24 hours, and you’ve broken all the promises you made to yourself.

While you were overthinking, Heeseung wondered just how long until he gets to fuck your pretty, virgin hole.

“Mmm, it wasn't that hard, was it?” he smiled as he was forced to pull away out of lack of air, his eyes practically closing on him.

You avoided his gaze, a small smile on your swollen lips. He laughed softly, and grabbed your hand in his.

“I just want to help you. You’re a big girl, you should know how the world works” he cooed, dumbing you down. But you accepted it. Every word of his you took in and analyzed. Maybe he was right.

He was this big, important rich guy from an important family, and you were just living in his world. You were nothing like him, his worries surrounded taking over the company or not, while you had to wonder if you had the money to go out with your friend on the weekend. You could try, but you’ll never be the same.

And Heeseung knew that. He knew how much power he had over you simply because his bank account was decorated by nothing less than quadruple digits.

“I don’t think you should be hanging out with Wonyoung and Niki. They're fake, you know?” he whispered, and focused his eyes on you “Let me be the one you come to when you need help, okay?”

You nodded, and he just hummed in approval, liking the way you agreed with anything he said.

You knew he was treating you like a child, babying you and bossing you around like he even had any right to do so, but you didn't find yourself stopping him either.

To you he spoke with such delicacy, and he paid attention to you in a way no one ever has. Heeseung was different from anyone you encountered, and that’s exactly what pulled you in, forcing you to uncover more about him.

But he just liked how you gave into his words way easier than he thought you would. He never knew it would be this easy to manipulate you. Heeseung never expected you to so naively believe that Wonyoung and Niki were the ones who were going to do you wrong, that they were the ones to cuddle up to new students in order to drop them just moments later. He had you where he wanted you and it didn't even take him a full hour.

______

“You didn’t text me last night, did you get home alright?” Wonyoung asked, settling down next to you in the study hall.

You ignored her gaze, her shuffling and moving, making an annoyed groan escape from your lips.

“Yeah,” you replied swiftly, turning your attention back to the worksheet in front of you.

Heeseung’s words had stuck with you. You couldn’t fathom the idea of Niki and Wonyoung, one of the nicest, most welcoming people you have ever met, being bullies. But perhaps that was the reason for their warm introduction. They wanted you to trust them.

Niki, noticing that Wonyoung had finally joined you in the study hall, turned around in his chair, taking out one of his airpods.

“Did you find who we were talking about in the car? A special someone told me they saw you together last night” Niki smiled widely like an idiot, and Wonyoung giggled, awaiting your answer.

You scoffed “The so-called devil” and murmured “Heeseung, right? He was very nice, I don’t get it”

They laughed, and you felt something twist inside of you at the sound of their forced posh, and elegant laughter.

“That’s the point. He’s nice at first, to get you to like him, trust him, and then he strikes” Niki told, and to you it sounded like he was describing his little mutual admiration circle with Wonyoung.

“I don’t know, honestly. He seemed like a good person” you inquired quietly, trying to focus on the work you had to do.

“Let me guess, he asked for consent, or said he ‘just wants to help you’, and you believed he’s a respectful guy? Y/n don’t be so naive” Wonyoung said sternly, and you scoffed, remembering how her boyfriend’s best friends treated you. Sunghoon was probably no different, so who was she to judge?

“You're dating Sunghoon, Wonyoung. Mind you, he’s one of the all so bad Heeseung’s friends”

Niki and Wonyoung looked at each other confused, wondering why you were suddenly being so cold and distant.

“He wasn’t like that always,” she said, and you looked at her questioning.

“You think people can change so drastically, just like that? He always had it in him, he just found the right people to unleash it with, that’s all” you answered, and she felt her body shift slightly.

Sunghoon transferred to Saint Matthews in his sophomore year, after studying abroad in an international school in Singapore. No one could really know if Sunghoon was any different before he joined, because he almost immediately hit it off with Heeseung, and his friend group.

“You don’t know what you're talking about” Niki said, with an annoyed look on his face.

“Oh kill me then. All I know is the shitty little gig you’re playing on me. I know what you guys do to new students- shape them to be your perfect little servant, and then drop them when it stops being amusing to you. Just like you did to Jake. So stop trying to blame everything on Heeseung when you know damn well he's not a bad person” you replied frustrated, collecting all your things, and standing up to leave the space.

Niki and Wonyoung were stunned at your words, following you until you disappeared out the door.

They realized you truly had met Heeseung, and that there was no turning back now.

Just like any girl, he had you tied to his leash, and they were powerless.

____

“Yeah, it’s crazy. I didn’t expect her to fold so easily” Heeseung laughed, as he downed another shot of tequila Jay stole from his dads alcohol cabinet. His father owned so many bottles he probably wouldn’t notice one of them went missing.

Just like he didn’t notice his son's worsening alcoholic tendencies.

“No trust me, she didn’t even fight back that much when we offered her whiskey” Jake sneered, and Jay grinned evilly.

Jay was the first one to notice you. He caught a glimpse of you as you stood so shyly in the cafeterias entryway, Wonyoung happily talking to you, as you looked around the place. He didn’t recognize your face.

You were pretty to him. Your face gleaned with innocence, and he could smell the way you were so intimidated by the people and sinister atmosphere of the school. He couldn’t even bother listening to whatever Sunghoon was going on about next to his ear, focused on only you. He knew exactly what happened to sweet girls like you, and he couldn’t wait for it.

And maybe at one point in time he could have you too. His big hands would slowly take off your shirt, his fingers slipping down under your jeans, pressing against your pulsing core. You’d tell him to stop, and he’d only laugh in your ear, unbuckling his belt.

“Wonyoung said she flipped off on them today when they mentioned you” Sunghoon tuned to Heeseung, pouring himself another shot “Niki said it’s like this with every girl, and she totally went bonkers on them or some shit” he laughed before his face twisted as the burning liquid slid down his throat.

“That’s so pathetic. She doesn’t even know him” Jake chuckled, and leaned back in his seat, his back melting into the soft cushion.

“That’s like the whole point, she isn’t supposed to know,” Heeseung noted, and they nodded slightly. “And I don’t think that’s more pathetic than Wonyoung leeching onto Sunghoon even though he doesn’t even hide the fact he doesn’t like her in the slightest”

Jay scoffed sarcastically “Defending her so quickly, sure” he hummed, and Heeseung rolled his eyes.

“My mom got her a campaign with our company, and now she thinks we’re gonna get married. It’s so annoying” Sunghoon explained, and they laughed.

“Then just breakup with her. She needs you, but you don’t need her, dude” Jake commented, and Sunghoon shook his head lively.

“She’s nice to have around. And it’s not like I don’t like her at all, she just gets on my nerves” he explained.

“When my mom pissed off my dad, she got divorce papers handed to her, and kicked out the door. Women are supposed to serve men, not be an obstacle. All she is, is an obstacle. You’re taking over your mom’s company, you can’t let her get in the way” Jay turned to Sunghoon, who just pretended to listen to his nonsense.

Maybe Jay was one of his best friends, but he couldn’t bear listening to his bullshit. He grew up around women- a single mother, his nannies who were strictly women (since his mother didn’t trust men around her only child), and cousins who were practically only girls. He knew women could achieve things alone, his mother being his best example.

“So, what is your plan?” Jake averted his gaze to Heeseung, who didn’t seem to be amused by the conversation surrounding you and Wonyoung.

“Was there ever a plan? She doesn’t even put up a fight, and already blew up on her new friends. This won’t be hard” he answered, and Jake nodded, satisfied with Heeseung’s answer.

“I think you guys are wasting your time, honestly” Sunghoon commented.

Jay looked at him annoyed “You and your feminist bullshit again” he murmured, and didn’t even bother pouring the substance into his shot glass, drinking straight from the bottle.

“Jesus Christ, Jay. Just cause I have the tiniest percentage of respect for women, doesn’t mean I’m some fucking feminist. I’m not stopping you from seducing that girl, I just think it’s a waste of time. If you want pussy so bad, just find yourself a hook up, it’s not that hard” he answered, and Jay seemed to accept his answer, too tired to start another fight about this with his friend.

“We’re only 19, Sunghoon. It won't hurt to have some fun while we can” Jake piqued, and with a swift movement of his hand, grabbed the bottle from the floor, tilting it to pour the rest of liquid into his mouth.

“I just think that's kind of unappreciative” he murmured, and all of them turned to him. Jay rolled his eyes and with a sigh ushered Sunghoon to continue “A shit load of kids our age don't get to have half the opportunities we do, so if I were you I wouldn't fuck around so much, but actually put in the work to maybe prove that we aren't fucking imbeciles who just sit around and get chauffeured all day” he explained, and they all looked at him with a confused gaze.

“Says the one who is failing practically all his classes. And what does any of that have to do with Y/n? What do you like her or something? You can hit if you want, it’s an open game” Jay laughed, and Sunghoon sighed.

But he wasn't annoyed, just incredibly frustrated that none of his friends understood what he was trying to convey to them.

He didn't study, at least not much, and even though he was always aware of the fact that he will most definitely take over his mothers company, he didn't quite like the idea of people thinking he only did because there were no other options. In some way he wanted to earn it, or at least feel like he did deserve it.

“It’s most definitely not an open game” Heeseung commented, and Jay looked at him with wide eyes.

“What? C’mon dude, she’s some public school transfer, it’s just fun and games. Don't start being all protective and jealous over her” he scoffed, this being the second time that Heeseung made a comment of that sort about you.

Jay didn't like this new found protectiveness Heeseung had acquired for you even though barely 24 hours ago he was making equally nasty and perverted comments about you.

“You're being an asshole today, you know that right?” Heeseung started, his eyes scanning the room, avoiding Jay.

“I’m being an asshole? All of you suddenly started acting like some fuckass henpecked husbands, when this would be the exact behavior you’d make fun of just a month ago” he groaned, gritting his teeth.

“I’m sorry Jay that your mom doesn't love you, and your dad only sees you as a token of business, but we weren't raised like that” Sunghoon said, standing up from his seat, ready to leave.

“That’s fucked up Hoon” Jake whispered, looking at Jay’s spechless expression.

“You know what else is fucked up Jake? That Jay is a fucking misogynist and Heeseung is some otherworldly type of addict and no is trying to help them. I have been the only person who has been putting in the slightest amount of effort to try and get them help, but I can't possibly do it alone. That’s fucked up Jaeyun. I’m leaving” he blew up, grabbing all his things, and with a tired sigh he left the living room, going straight for the door.

It was true. Maybe Sunghoon was an idiot and sometimes acted like a huge asshole, but he was right. He loved his friends and seeing them ruin and throw their lives away hurt him. But everyone who was caught up in the same wind, didn't seem to notice.

“Call me when you fucking grow up, Sunghoon” Jay shouted, an angered expression plastered all over his face as the door slams abruptly.

All three of them sat in silence as they tried to figure out what happened in the span of just a couple minutes. How did the conversation come down to Jay and Heeseung having issues, and why was Sunghoon suddenly trying to act all sweet and caring when he never did care.

Or at least they didn't notice the countless times Sunghoon tried to stop them, but to no avail.

“I think I’m gonna go too,” Heeseung said, after a moment of dead silence.

Without a word, Jay and Jake nodded, still not quite present in the moment.

That’s exactly how Heeseung ended up in your home, dumping all his issues onto you as you attempted to comfort him with a slight brush of your fingers against his soft hair.

Your outbreak with Wonyoung and Niki, left you feeling alone once again. Those thoughts kept eating you alive, but you knew that's exactly what they wanted. They wanted you to desperately crawl back to them, begging for another chance as you cried out an apology.

You knew that coming back to them would only prove this (untrue) point of them using you and many others for their own pleasure. Turning around, and apologizing would hurt your pride beyond repair.

And it wasn't like Heeseung was making this up either. His heart genuinely cracked at the sight of his friends fighting.

They fought, all the time, but there was no comparing this to a fight over who gets to take the first hit or who gets to play the better character, to Sunghoon leaving completely, his harsh words still lingering in the air.

He wasn't an addict. He was a normal teenager doing normal teenager things. He wasn't wrong for being curious.

“I’m happy that you stood up for me today, at study hall” he said, his voice low as your touch was putting him in a sleepy state.

“How do you know about that?” you asked, not even having the time to tell him about it.

He smiled, rolling on his side to face you “Sunghoon told me”

“Are you really not mad at me?” you tilted your head curiously.

He laughed, and lifting himself from your lap, he grabbed your hand in his. You could feel his warm touch embrace you fully, the action alone was enough to calm your uneasy heart.

“No one stands up for me. I could never be mad at you for being on my side even though you barely know me” he admitted, and it made your plush lips form into a small smile.

“Your friends never stand up for you? I find that hard to believe, Hee”

He likes the way his name slips from your lips, the usage of the nickname forcing him to stifle the growing, uncomfortable feeling in his pants. He hated the fact that he had to control himself around you. But still, he loved the innocent look on your face as you were so oblivious to the boner in his pants.

“They just don't know how to, I think,” he said in a whisper. “They're too caught up in their own lives, and I don't blame them. They have a lot on their plate as it is” he added, his lips forming into a straight smile, as he tried to look apologetic in front of you.

Heeseung wanted you to see him as this complex, emotional being that's only purpose on earth is to help others. His financial situation wasn't helping him create this image, he feared that you’d think he’s just searching for problems, wanting to experience life with all the hardships that a person like him doesn't usually get bothered by.

But you never thought so, you viewed Heeseung the exact way he wanted you to. You believed in every word he said. If only he knew that though, his cocky nature would probably fight its way to domination.

“You’re a good friend, Heeseung” you smiled, squeezing his hand tighter. He chuckled lightly, looking at you with the same straight smile “You have me now, you know that? You said you’d help me whenever, and I want to do the same for you”

You vividly remember his lips on yours. You can recall exactly how he tasted and how he felt against your own skin. He helped you reach some otherworldly ecstacy without going further than a simple touch. You knew you wanted him to be more, but it was too early for that admission, too early to let yourself sink in that feeling.

You didn't understand what was going on between the two of you, where this connection was heading, and in some way it thrilled you. You couldn't possibly be friends, not after what he said that night.

“I hope you know I meant everything I said” he uttered, and you slowly nodded, trying to recall every word that slipped from his pretty lips “I think you’re special” he added.

Heeseung didn't know himself if this was all fake, cause at that moment it felt too real to him. He was speaking from his heart, in some way.

Lee Heeseung was beautiful, the closest you’ll get to any godly figure. He couldn't possibly be flawed in any way.

But there were some things the boy wouldn't even admit to himself. All the fighting, and neglecting, made him out to be this way. He always longed for the type of love no one but a parent could give him. He wanted to be loved so much it picked him apart. Heeseung never experienced what it’s like to care for someone so much, to care for someone unconditionally.

And as the youngest sibling, no one had that love for him, because there was someone before him.

“I’m definitely not special, Hee. It’s all you” you smiled, and he laughed softly, his eyes falling onto his lap as a rosy tint decorated his cheeks.

“It could always be just us. You could come over, and stay till morning” he turned to you, a newfound sincerity in his eyes, as he spoke to you.

“You’d want that?” you uttered quietly.

The faint melody playing from the radio became muffled as you sat next to him. You never felt closer to another person, and it was all so new to you.

“Mhm, really” he confessed, and you believed.

It was all so domestic- he wanted to escape his family line, but he behaved just like them. Heeseung could never change the blood he was born with, blood of condescending, arrogant, manipulative, money hungry assholes.

“Will you promise to stay with me?” he asked, ending the comforting silence that embraced you.

You laughed lightly, finding his worries sweet “I promise” you said sticking out your pinky finger.

“You still do that?” he said with a soft chuckle. You pouted awaiting his finger that could solidify the promise.

He laughed and intertwined his pinky with yours.

_______

Spending time with Heeseung was easy. He just always knew what to say and what to do. He was like the sweetest thing bee’s like you would fly towards.

He had eventually introduced you to Jake, Jay and Sunghoon who eagerly apologized for coming onto you and forcing alcohol down your throat at the party, and stupidly you laughed it off not wanting to give them reasons to dislike you.

You wanted to fit in with them. Eunseok wasn't as happy, trying to keep up with your new lifestyle, but something deep inside him didn't want to stop. He knew he owed it to you after the years of neglect his parents had presented you with. After the years of living in his shadow maybe this was the only way to repay you.

Jake had seemed awfully desperate when you first met him. He looked and acted like one of those sleazy guys who adds girls on snapchat and sends them unsolicited dick pics, but he quickly managed to prove you wrong. You rarely spent time alone with him, almost never, but whenever that moment came, Jake became a completely different person. He was nice. He was actually so painstakingly nice to the point where you would ponder his existence in that friend group.

And Jay- you felt nothing towards the boy. The one thing Wonyoung and Niki got right was his obvious desire to become a Korean Andrew Tate. He had nothing to give except misogynist comments he’d pretend were only jokes, and if you dared to be offended then you simply had no sense of humor.

Sunghoon, it was hard to describe him. He just didn't really talk much. He was never there, he wasn't present although sitting just across from the ongoing conversation. Maybe he always was this way, or maybe you were the problem.

But Heeseung, he felt some kind of obsession towards you. He wanted to carve his initials deep into your skin until you bleed a deep shade of red, all out of love for him. He wanted to touch you in the places your mere, inexperienced fingers couldn't reach. He couldn't understand you, he couldn't bear the fact that you didn't fit into the pattern, and it made him sick.

“Get a fucking grip Y/n!” Wonyoung screamed, tugging at the thick material of your blazer.

She pulled you discreetly into a dark hallway that connected the music hall to the rest of the school.

“Don’t touch me” you uttered, trying to peer away from the girl.

Wonyoung didn't look mad, angry, her face was full of desperation as her glassy eyes looked at your tired face.

“Don't you see what he’s doing to you? He’s trying to ruin you. Why are you being so fucking stubborn!” she begged for understandment but your face was blank.

“Are you jealous? What is this about, Wonyoung? God, If you want Sunghoon’s attention then go ask him for it. I don’t know you, and you don't know me” you grit your teeth, as she looked at you terrified.

“What are you even talking about?” she uttered, her voice cracking.

“I’m done playing your game. Find another person to play with, I’m sure there's plenty” you replied.

“Y/n you're not one of us. You never will be, so stop trying so hard. Getting with Heeseung won't help you fit in either. And you better not come to me when he destroys whatever reputation you have left” her words were harsh, and it seemed like your mention of Sunghoon riled her up completely.

Wonyoung and Sunghoon have been dating for a while now. Only Wonyoung would know the exact timeline since Sunghoon had no interest in celebrating milestones with the girl.

It wasn't like he didn't like her at all, he wouldn't give her the time of day if that was the case. He just found it thrilling and entertaining, the way she called his name, the way she’d give up everything for him if he asked. Sunghoon’s mother had set him up with the eldest daughter of Taesung Group the moment she found out he’d be a boy, so to him, Wonyoung was just a distraction from the tiring business life his mother engulfed him in.

“Give it up, Jang Wonyoung” a male voice echoed, footsteps coming closer.

She looked disgusted when the vision of the boy became clearer.

“Didn't manipulate her enough today, so you had to come do it here? Fuck off, Heeseung” she sneared.

Heeseung laughed, and grabbed your hand ostentatiously. Her gaze was glued to your intertwined hands. It made you smile slightly, the way her lip twitched at the vision, it was satisfying.

“No one’s manipulating anyone. Sorry if that messes up your little narrative” he replied, with a smile that made her want to throw up.

“I’ve been here long enough to know that's bullshit. You’re full of shit, Lee Heeseung”

Your eyes flew back and forth as you tried to analyze everything about the situation.

“Open your eyes, Y/n. Can’t you see it?” she whispered, her expression changing as she turned towards you.

“I’m not like you, remember? So stop trying to give me advice, it’s pathetic” you voiced, and she scoffed.

“Did she say that to you” Heeseung looked down at you worriedly, and as soon as you nodded slightly, he looked back up to Wonyoung “And I’m the bad guy? At least she didn't have to convince Kim Sunoo’s parents to forcibly get her into the school” he smirked, and Wonyoung with a frustrated groan, positioned her body towards the music hall, leaving you two in the eerie hallway.

Wonyoung was the best scoring student, but things used to be completely different. She despised studying, keeping a large distance from all sorts of books. But her parents couldn't fathom the idea that Wonyoung would not attend Saint Matthews. So with a bottle of expensive wine and some sweet words, the girl's parents got her in using their connection to Kim Sunoo’s parents who were major politicians in the country.

She didn't like people bringing that up ever since it drunkenly slipped her while at a birthday party, so Heeseung exposing it in front of you had her embarrassed for the rest of the day. She wanted you to believe her badly, but the revelations only confirmed all your speculations about the girl, making it practically impossible for you to listen to anything she has to say to you from now on.

…

“God Wonyoung is such a bitch! Is she jealous? What is her issue seriously” you complained, pacing around Heeseung’s terrifyingly large room.

It was your first time over at the boys house. It was unusual for you, all the maids showing you around, treating you like royalty, guiding you to every room. Their fake smiles, and forced acts of kindness made you sick.

His house was colossal, massive, it extended into a vast land and the drive up to it alone was long-lasting. The walk from your apartment to a nearby store wasn’t half the length of his home, and it was appalling to you in a way.

Heeseung’s room, for contrast, was bright, warm and welcoming. The sunlight shined down on his belongings from the ceiling high window, creating a special space where all his piano, guitars and other musical instruments lay. You recall him telling you about his passion for music, but you took it as more of an underground soundcloud rapper type of situation.

“It’s just Sunghoon. It’s always been about Sunghoon” he answered calmly, sitting down on his couch, and with his wrought hand, patted down his lap, beckoning you to come to him.

“Your friends are nice, and all, but you know nothing can substitute a girl best-friend. I just hoped she would be different” you sighed, and placing yourself on Heeseung’s lap, your arms automatically wrapped around his neck, head slightly leaning on his shoulder.

His hands instinctively encased your waist, his head moving along with his eyes, as he tried to get a better look at your worn out face.

For a moment Lee Heeseung felt bad, seeing how much comfort the two of you found in each other, knowing he can’t possibly let this go on longer. It started off with pure lust, a need to ruin the scholarship student that knows nothing about life from this side. Now he was finding himself wanting more, knowing he can’t give it.

Heeseung wanted to wreck your innocent image, but found himself losing it far before he even had the chance to start his plan.

“They’re your friends now too, Y/n” he whispered, the moment feeling way too sacred “She’s lying, you know that right?” he asked after a moment of silence. He looked at you once again, checking for your expression.

“I know, Seungie” your voice is muffled by the material of his jacket, but he can hear your words loud and clear.

He feels like all the air in his lungs has been vacuumed up, as his last breath hitches in his throat. He feels sick. Your pretty eyes look at him with so much sincerity, trust, yet all he can think about is vivid images of your small frame under him. He can't help but wonder just how much prettier you’d look with tears in your eyes as you’d tell him it hurts.

His fingers slightly slide over the buttons of your blouse, as he continues to stare deeply into your face, searching for signs to stop. But you look towards him indifferently, a calm expression decorating your features.

Heeseung’s hand hovers over your uncovered thigh. He wants to feel the wetness that seeps through your panties on his fingers so badly. He wants to slowly unbutton your blouse, his eyes scanning your figure, his hands grabbing onto anything.

“Do you want to smoke with me?” he asked, hoping that his lessons on how to properly inhale would lead him to something a little more intimate.

“I haven't done that yet” you admit, and he chuckles.

“I know. This could be your first” he smiles “Remember, I told you I want to help you. Well I’m doing it now” he added, quickly

“Am I going to be fine?” you asked, peeling your head off his shoulder to look at him properly.

Heeseung smiles leaning back on the couch. His fingers delicately push stray strands of hair behind your ear “I’m fine, so I’m sure you’ll be okay” he assures and you nod moderately.

You deliberately slide off his lap, as he stands up to rummage through the bottom drawer of his dresser. He pulls out a tin box with an adorable puppy on it, and you find it humorous in a way, considering the pretty design is hiding something so toxic inside.

You remember the sight of high Heeseung very well. He seemed to scare you a little back then, his words slipped from his mouth with so much ease and confidence.

“You don't have to worry, nobody really gets high on their first try” he places the box on his coffee table, carefully opening it up.

“Well that’s no fun” you comment.

“It isn't the case for every new smoker, but still no one really knows why,” he explained, using his extensive knowledge to educate you.

It wasn't the ideal area of knowledge to know everything about, but it made Heeseung feel good. It made him feel safe whenever he smoked with his friends or new people. He always knew what to do and how to act if something were to go wrong.

“This weed Jay sold off to me is hella dank, maybe you will feel something after all” he smiled, and even though you had no idea what he was saying, you reciprocated.

Heeseung pulled out one of his filters, folding it and rolling it into a cylinder. He placed it at the end of his paper, filling it with cannabis and sprinkling just a bit of tobacco inside. He tightened it and with his tongue moistened the shiny edge of the paper.

“You need to feel the smoke travel down to your lungs” he explained, searching for a lighter in his pockets “Inhale for like 2 seconds, and take smaller hits so you don't cough so much” he smiled, finally pulling out a green lighter.

You never were interested in smoking or drinking, but some part of you couldn't deny Heeseung. It was stupid, but perhaps this was your one way ticket to his heart.

Heeseung lit the joint, staring intensely as the flame moved across the surface, waiting for the right moment to take the first hit.

He inhaled, his teeth slightly gritting as he exhaled the smoke, the familiar scent hitting your nose.

He held the blunt between his fingers, and moved closer towards you “I’ll guide you”

Heeseung propped the lit cannabis next to your lips and with a nod to his head, ushered you to take it into your mouth. You assuringly looked at him, counting down the two seconds in your mind as a burning sensation coated your throat. You felt the smoke travel down to your lungs, pulling away to take a deep breath. With a small cough you exhaled, making Heeseung smile.

He didn't know he’d enjoy seeing you like this “Good girl”

You took a long sip of the water that has probably been on his coffee table for a long time, the liquid tasting a little weird. But you didn't care, the need to moisten your throat overpowering the unfresh taste.

“Was it good?” he asked, taking another rip.

The smoke hit you in the face “Not the best” you answered honestly and he chuckled.

“It gets better” he assured, and passed you the blunt again.

…

It felt weird. Weird in a good way.

Your eyelids felt heavy, the laughter coming to you naturally. Obviously you didn't feel half as high as Heeseung who swore he was walking in slow motion, but you most certainly were enjoying yourself.

To Heeseung it feels like an attack on his fragile ego, the fact that he has gotten so far but not on top of you just yet. And even with the minuscule bit of confidence he has earned right now, he needs to at least try.

Your purity radiates off of every one of your laughs as you intently look at him, just slightly fiddling with the loose string on your skirt. If he moved just a little bit he would probably be able to see what's under the navy material.

Heeseung’s pants start to feel uncomfortable against his skin once again as you keep on laughing so innocently at his ambiguous jokes only a virgin like you wouldn't understand.

He wants to feel your lips against his again but this time he knows he won't stop at that. He can't.

“I want to kiss you so bad” he admitted, and you felt an unknown wave rush through your veins, his face slowly inching closer.

He waited patiently for a response, his mind well aware that any sudden move would cause his plan to backfire.

But instead of letting him take the lead, you nearly closed the gap between the two of you, letting your lips just slightly graze against his, smiling as he waited impatiently.

“Such a tease” he murmured before pressing his pretty mouth against yours, his hands traveling to the back of your neck, holding you still against him.

He smiled into the kiss, his tongue tasting the familiar vanilla chapstick, the scent of your perfume hypnotizing, making a blur of Heeseung’s mind. The way your lips felt against him even though you were so inexperienced, it felt much more special to him.

Heeseung’s lips never left your skin, traveling so delicately down to your jaw, placing chaste kisses everywhere he could. His ivory fingers held tightly onto your waist, his other hand cupping your cheek, as he continued to slide down to your neck.

He wasted no time leaving small, and visible marks, his teeth slightly biting into your skin, the quiet breaths that left your mouth, riling him up even further.

“Can I?” he asked, Heeseung’s eyes going back and forth from your face to the buttons of your dress shirt.

With your mouth parted and an unsteady breath you nodded.

He smirked, and continued to attack your collarbones, his fingers unbuttoning your blouse with ease.

“You’re so hot” he breathed onto your chest, pressing you down onto the mattress fully.

The sweet noise that slipped from your lips, made a sly smile reappear on Heeseung's face, his cock twitching in his pants, the material suffocating him.

If he moved down even a little bit, he’d probably be able to notice the soaking wet patch on your panties.

The way his lips felt against almost every part of your body, the soft yet sudden touch of his fingers, it all felt way too good to give up.

Heeseung gave you a knowing look, his face just a couple centimeters from your heat, his hands digging into your thighs.

He noticed your relectuance “You know I just want to help you” he cooed, soothing down your skin, crawling right back up to face you “Let me make you feel good, pretty girl”

You weren't afraid of many things in your life, but most importantly, being unraveled by Heeseung and him finding nothing he wants in there.

You nodded slowly, his smile growing with each one of your nods. You didn't know what he’d do next, the blood in your body pumping faster as you anticipated his next move.

Heeseung moved up your skirt, and as the fabric moved up, your skin burned with anticipation. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of your covered cunt, begging for his attention.

“So wet” he commented, his hand gently pressing your sensitive core “I barely even touched you” he added, chuckling.

He gave you one last glance searching for confirmation, which you once again gave him, before sliding off your underwear. Heeseung didn't even bother removing your skirt, his mouth wet with desire.

Heeseung’s fingers barely hover over your folds, the sole heat that radiates off of him making you squirm, twitching slightly.

He laughs “So sensitive and for what? Relax, pretty thing”.

He positions himself against you, his eyes locking with yours as he places swift kisses on your inner thigh. His lips move down in a slow pace, and you have to stop yourself from pushing his head forward. Each peck burns on your shivering skin, overwhelming you to the bone. His breath felt soft on your bare flesh, fingers digging into your thighs.

His tongue flicked out, coming in contact with you after what felt like eternity. Your legs fight the urge to close on him, his mouth sending shockwaves of pleasure down your body.

You grab at the nearest pillow, covering your face with it, embarrassed at how exposed you felt in front of him. His tongue delved deeper, lapping up all he could taste of you.

The heat of his touch, the place that warmed you. The pulse, he could hold onto it alongside other rythmns. He just couldn’t get enough, he wanted to pry you open. Time faded away slowly, as he continued to devour you.

You were on the edge, teetering between pleasure and pain, your body begging for release, as the knot in your stomach tightened.

His mouth latched onto you, sucking and flicking with expert precision. He was enjoying himself, the sweet taste of innocence lacing his tongue. The sweet taste of crimson red innocence that he worked so hard to diminish, that he worked so hard to scrape you of.

Heeseung was probably the closest you'll get to heaven in this lifetime. He was God's favorite, right at your thighs giving you the most beautiful form of pleasure avaliable.

“Fuck” his chest heaves uneasily, his fingers gripping tightly onto your thighs “I could eat you out everyday”

You wanted to beg him for more, beg him to let you release as it became even harder to hold it in. Completely and utterly lost in the new sensation, you roll your hips, gliding against his parted lips.

“Keep doing that, fuck” he slurs, lost in a trance, his only goal being making you feel good.

You caught a glimpse of him for just a moment- his pretty eyes so focused, his lips swollen and covered in your arousal. With every sound, every small movement, his actions became rougher, the feeling in your stomach becoming unbearable.

“Cum for me, please” he mumbled against your skin, his desperation to make you cum fueled by the way you can't even form a proper sentence in response.

Your fingers grip his bed sheets, his name falling from your lips multiple times before you feel the knot in your stomach quickly coming undone, a wave of intense pleasure washing over you.

“Oh my god” you cried before fully releasing onto his face, his tounge desperately trying to lap up every single drop of his own hard work.

Your whole body twitched in the aftermath of your climax, Heeseung still holding you down, his pretty lips back on your thighs and stomach, as he waited out your high with you.

“So pretty,” he murmured, looking at you with lovesick eyes.

With just a small blunt that barely got any of you high, Heeseung managed to get you just halfway where he needed you. Obviously, he’d rather have you on your knees in front of him, tears filling up your eyes as he pushed your head further down his cock, but this was enough to satisfy him, for now.

He was peeling apart your innocence slowly, but surely, and his ego was never higher.

______

It’s been a long time since you’ve talked to Aeri Uchinaga.

Aeri, or how everyone liked to call her, Giselle, was one of your closest friends from the “lower class” school you used to go to. She was like a sister to you, the only ‘family’ you ever truly had in your life.

You promised yourself to never let go of your values and never let your relationship with Aeri falter, but both of those things went down the drain a long long time ago.

Seeing the messages between the two of you lose all their momentum, become less frequent, and come down to ‘How’s Saint Matthews’ or ‘How are you holding up over there?’ frightened you.

Would she even want to talk to you? Would she pick up if you called? Would she care?

“I don’t know. Maybe I should just let it go?” you said, scrolling through all the messages you and Aeri shared over the past month, noticing how you could probably count them with two hands.

Heeseung hummed, turning away from his calculus worksheets “I think if she cared enough she’d reach out. She should understand you're busy with your new life and be the first one to initiate conversations and all”

It was partially true. Why should you be the only one to care and keep the friendship going? She should also try more, shouldn't she?

“I’ve known her for years, Hee. I can't just let go that easily” you murmured, and he scoffed quietly.

“But you have me now, isn't that enough?” he asked, his expression emotionless.

Heeseung didn't even realize his words came out much more arrogantly than he intended.

“I know, I’m sorry” you looked down “I just still want her to be in my life, that’s all” he hummed in approval, finding it annoying, the way your words implied like he wasn’t satisfying you in every sector.

Jay, who sat opposite of you in the study hall, sighed ostentatiously.

“Then just text her? I don't see the issue, seriously” he commented, pulling one of his airpods out of his ear, apparently tired of hearing you complain about such an ‘easy matter’.

“It’s not that easy, Jay” Sunghoon mumbled, not taking his eyes off the work in front of him.

Jay gave him a questioning look, deciding not to continue the conversation, way too tired for another fight with Sunghoon.

Sunghoon had been behaving awfully weird ever since the fight at the apartment. He suddenly felt the need to comment on everything slightly negative that Jay or anyone else said towards you. That was one of the primal reasons for the group's continuous fighting.

“Let’s get out of here” Heeseung turned to you after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

You nodded reluctantly, still not finished with the stacks of papers you had to complete by tonight. But you could never deny Lee Heeseung. Not with the way his eyes glare at you intensely, and definitely not with the way his hand grips yours tightly, pulling you away from the table, not leaving a second for goodbyes. Not like you’d want to fakely smile at Park Jongseong with a wave; you fucking hated his guts.

“You’re being weird today” you notice, his body facing away from you, pulling you towards an unknown destination.

You still haven't fully addressed the lingering tension that stuck to you after what happened. But since Heeseung didn't bother mentioning it, you decided that it probably would be better to leave it at that. Sex, with all the ways it came in, was normal, and you were sooo normal about it too.

“I’m not”

Heeseung couldn't avoid the growing pain in his heart, recalling whatever the fuck he did back at his house, seemingly starting to realize that it probably wasn't something he needed to do, but something he wanted to do.

For fucks sake, he never came out with the initiative to eat a girl out, and he most definitely never just left it at that, not even getting his dick wet in the process.

The usually loud and bustling atmosphere of the student common space seemed to be gone, the bean bags and couches empty, no student in hindsight.

“I just can't be around them anymore,” he added after a rather long moment, sitting down with a thud on one of the black couches.

“Did you fight again?” you asked, placing yourself down next to him, your hands almost automatically finding their way to his own.

“You could say that” he chuckled, recalling how Jake once again brought up your topic, which led to yet another heated discussion.

“You should talk to them, this has been happening way too much recently” you ushered, and he shook his head with another small laugh.

“They are most definitely not those kinds of people. Don't think I've had a serious conversation with them like ever”

Heeseung, Jake, Jay and Sunghoon have been friends for quite a long time now, especially Heeseung and Jay, and their lack of communication was astonishing. Every fight would be brushed off, they’d just pretend nothing happened and laugh it off. Every hard decision would have to be made individually because asking for advice was pointless. It wasn't easy with them and Heeseung knew that.

“Either way, I’m happy you talk to me about it, maybe it can ease your mind just a little” you smiled, and he reciprocated, looking at you.

“Yeah, it does help” he confirmed, and leaned back.

Heeseung lived by night. As soon as the sun set it was as if his sins were disguised. So he hated the way his mind was slowly coming to the realization that the stupid plan he made was set for disaster the moment he sought out for you in the morning.

“Do you want to come over after classes?” he asked, playing with the hem of your skirt, the seemingly innocent action making your heart flutter nervously.

“I’m over there almost everyday” you laugh, and so does he, a snide smile on his lips.

“You know your fate then” he says, his hand still inching closer, the public space that surrounded you having no effect on him.

“Why are your parents never home?” you ask, and he finds it humorous in a way. Obviously owners of a multimillion company would never find time to spend back at home with their adult sons.

The difference between you and Heeseung was that you knew your parents wouldn't be there to welcome you home everyday. You knew it was impossible. Heeseung could only suspect or assume, because his parents had given up on telling him when they’ll return from a business trip a long time ago.

“They’re busy, I guess” he said, with a small sigh “Or at least they pretend to be, I wouldn't be shocked if the multiple business trips were just vacations” he laughed, his gaze falling onto you again.

“At least you have your brother there” you smiled and he chuckled, he most definitely did not have a brother in reality.

“Honestly, if he wasn't there it wouldn't make much of a difference” Heeseung sighed, and even though he’s gotten used to the relationship he shared with his brother, it still saddened him in a way.

“It’s about the company, right?” you asked, and he nodded with a chuckle.

“Smart girl” he cooed, ruffling your hair softly. You laughed, and shoved his hand off playfully.

It wasn’t so hard to assume after all. What else could rich siblings be fighting over, who gets to sit in the passenger seat? Who gets to have the last slice of pizza? That's so fucking humorous. He was fighting with his brother over millions and a couple more millions, and didn’t even realize how materialistic and stupid that sounded to someone like you.

Heeseung pulled your body closer to his, feeling an otherworldly connection course through his veins as you gave away your warmth to him. And how much tighter did you need to be pressed against each other before he finally admitted that he wasn't doing this for warmth.

How many times did his thumb have to press against the edge of your mouth for him to realize he's gone too far?

“Did you hear that Sunghoon broke up with Wonyoung?” he asked, his body melting into yours with every passing second.

You looked at him with wide eyes, but on another note, you would be lying if you said you didn't expect it. And it most definitely didn't shock you that Sunghoon was the one to initiate it.

“Why?” you asked, even though it wasn't a hard deduction to make yourself.

“I think me and you both know why” he huffed, a hint of humor lacing his tone “Honestly good for him, that girl is insufferable”

“Oh I know” you agreed, and he smiled “Go easy on him, still”

“I'll try my best” he rolled his eyes playfully “We should definitely throw him a celebration party” Heeseung inquired and you chuckled.

“Is that really something he’s celebrating, or just us?” you asked and he smiled.

Sunghoon was so incredibly hard to read, and knowing if the breakup is impacting him negatively or positively was something nobody would ever know.

“It’ll still help him get back up on his feet, if he even needs to” he replied, and you nodded smiling.

You had no idea about the status between you and Heeseung. Things happened, and things were most definitely still happening, you both knew it, but nothing changed within the label itself. But then again, you took Heeseung as the type that didn't like labeling things.

Of course you wanted to be his girlfriend. You wanted people to start knowing you by “Lee Heeseungs girlfriend”, not “Broke Transfer” or “Poor Scholar”.

You relied heavily on Heeseung. He was like your life support in the walls of this school. He helped you make decisions and was there for you whenever you needed him. He felt just like flying too close to the sun, and it was addictive. You knew that very well.

He truly was the only person you had. And well, you assumed that maybe calling Aeri isn't that good of an idea.

Well, that’s what Heeseung agrees with anyway.

__________

You were so out of it.

You had told Eunseok that you’ll be staying the night at a new friend's house, but would he really care if he were to find out you’d actually be getting shit faced at a massive house party in a mansion you didn’t really know the owner of.

Probably not.

The music was so loud you could barely register the words Kim Sunoo spoke to you so enthusiastically. You had come here expecting to spend some time with Heeseung, but no matter how much you wanted to go look for him, the never ending white hallways that led to countless guest bedrooms frightened you.

From your comfortable position on the couch, you could spot Sunghoon’s lonely figure at one of the tables. He was supposed to be the main attraction, the whole event centered around his new found freedom, but it seemed like everyone around him was having much more fun than him.

You quickly waved off Sunoo, unsure of what he truly was going on about for the past 10 minutes, heading towards Sunghoon.

“Are you okay?” You asked without having to shout in the boy's face, finding the corner he sat in much quieter.

He looked startled, he didn't catch the moment where you came to him “I’m fine” Sunghoon replied swiftly, blinking a few times.

You found it cute.

“Why are you alone? Where is everyone” you asked him another question and for the first time you saw him smile so sweetly.

He always had the same emotionless expression on his face, conversations with him felt like a punishment. Seeing him like this made your knees weak, a slight pain in your heart as you wondered what he was thinking about.

“I hoped you’d tell me that” he said, his small smile never fading.

You chuckled “I thought all this was supposed to be for you”

He shook his head with a laugh “I never wanted any of this. They just used my situation as an excuse to get black out drunk, I guess”

Even though it was sad, he never stopped smiling at you. His head rested on his knuckles, his eyes twinkling as his gaze was focused on you.

“That’s rude” you inquired, and he laughed again, but this time it much more resembled a scoff.

“Heeseung has done and is doing things much worse” he murmured, and even though the music was still very much blasting through the speakers, you heard him.

You thought about it before questioning him again. Did you even want to know? Or are some things better left unspoken.

“Like?” you finally said, and that’s when Sunghoon went quiet.

With a thud he slammed his glass on the table, and stood up. He nodded his head towards one of the rooms at the end of the hallway signaling for you to follow him. He extended one of his hands towards you, and with the smallest bit of hesitation you took it, allowing him to lead you towards the space.

Park Sunghoon looked so beautiful that night. His ivory skin glowed under the bright, colorful lights, his gaze was so piercing, and his lips just begged to be kissed. The pair of glasses hanging off his nose complemented his white fitted dress shirt, and his black pants showed off his perfectly long legs. You saw a different side of him and didn’t exactly like the way it made you feel.

He closed the door behind you after assuring that the two of you would be alone. He didn’t know why he was doing this, why he was betraying one of his closest friends.

But he thought about it all the time. He couldn’t get peace of mind. He couldn’t let his heart hurt for you, watching you fall for a fraudulent man that didn’t deserve someone as loyal and caring as you.

“What is going on Sunghoon?” you asked, standing above him, as he placed himself on the leather couch with a sigh.

“I know you like him, I know you believe everything he says and I know you won’t like what I’m about to say” he started explaining, and the suspense was killing you “But he’s not the guy you think he is. You’re not the first one, Y/n”

“What the fuck do you mean I’m not the first one Sunghoon. First, what?”

He was trying to stay calm, but you were already getting annoyed and he hasn’t even dropped the real bomb on you.

Sunghoon thought about it for a second. Was using Pham Hanni a good example or should he reach deeper inside his mind to find another person Heeseung has used to fulfill his own perverted and psychotic desires.

“I mean you’re not the first girl he has used this way” he uttered without looking at you, too scared to see your expression.

Were you scared? Or were you mad? Hurt or in disbelief?

You didn’t respond, letting the silence devour the two of you for a moment.

“Please say something, Y/n” he whispered, grabbing your hand.

His hands were cold, his fingers long and ivory. His touch was so smooth, and welcoming. He managed to pull you down next to him, yet you still couldn’t slip a word out of your mouth. He wondered if you’d ever reply or if you would just sit there, forever, next to him in silence.

He’d like that. He’d like that more than he should. He was already betraying his friend, but his heart still wanted more. He wanted you to be more.

“Why are you telling me about this, Sunghoon?” you finally said, and he looked at you, his gaze softening.

“Because I like you” he said, his gaze falling to your intertwined hands “And I can’t stand looking at you getting lied to like this” he added after a short moment.

It didn’t hit you when he said it. It felt like a moment that passed by quickly, it felt like it wasn’t anything significant. But looking at him, feeling the coldness radiate off of him, and feeling his scent made you realize he actually said it.

“Don’t say that, Hoon” when the usage of his nickname slipped off your tongue, and he knew you didn’t mean it.

He knew you felt it too, you just couldn’t say it, right? There was this invisible string tying you tightly to Heeseung’s grip, holding you back from giving into him. You wanted to. You’ve always wanted to, and so did he. From the moment he saw you, standing there with Wonyoung on your first day.

Neither of you moved, caught in each other's closeness, both aware of it, both unsure.

Sunghoon’s slender fingers grazed your jaw, softly pulling you to face him. His lips were slightly parted, and you could feel his breath, laced with alcohol and cigarettes. His gaze was heavy on yours and you could feel your heart racing in your throat- but you couldn’t pull away.

He traced the curve of your jaw, his hand slipping down to your throat. His grip was firm, his lips grazing over the edge of yours.

‘Tell me to stop” he whispered, smiling when he only heard a faint breath slip from your mouth. “Tell me and I will” he smiled against your cheek.

“I want you so bad” he murmured, his voice low “You don’t even know” His nose was pressing against your cheek, his breath hot on your skin. You could feel him all over you.

All at once, the restraint you had, faded away. His back fell to the soft padding of the couch, your legs straddling his lap, keeping him still and open for you. A slow smile tugged at the corner of his lips, eyes dark and hooded.

His hands slipped down to your lower back, pulling you in closer, skin to skin. You felt dizzy, his mouth eating at your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. He grabbed your waist tightly, moving you back and forth on his growing bulge.

His hands moved up to your jaw as you rode his clothed crotch without his assistance.

You felt shivers down your spine, an uncontrollable force pushing you for more. You wanted him whole, completely forgetting about the boy that was somewhere in this house, laughing with his friends.

But you didn’t want him to stop, finally closing the last breath of distance between you and Sunghoon, pressing your lips to his.

The kiss was sloppy, he met you with even more eagerness, your hand moving down to his chest, feeling his carved muscles against your fingertips. His tongue pried your mouth for entrance, deeping the connection between you. He held you as if he had been waiting forever for this moment, holding your body firm against his own.

You pulled away, your faces inches apart, your forehead resting against his. Your lips coated in his saliva, trying to catch your breath, he looked at you with so much passion and longing.

The regret started to settle in, but you couldn’t move away, even when his fingers caressed your cheek, you leaned into it.

“You should be with me,” he whispered, a hint of desperation coating his voice “We’d be so good together, I’d make you feel so good” he added, his hand slipping past the band of your small skirt.

“Sunghoon” you breathed out, your face falling to the crook of his neck as he played with the material of your underwear.

“You were made for me to love, let me please” he pleaded, his breath shaky.

You could feel his soft touch caressing your skin, his erection firmly against your clothed heat, it all felt like a dream. If you looked at him, it would all become real again.

“We shouldn't” you said, your words muffled by the silky material of his dress shirt.

He heard you, he didn't want you to stop, he was so desperate to have you, he wanted to show you just how much better he was than Heeseung.

“It’s not wrong when he doesn't know” he took your jaw into his fingers, forcing you to look at him. You looked so pretty and innocent, your lipstick slightly smeared around your lips.

Sunghoon pressed his hungry lips against yours once again, and you complied with his movements. The kiss was messy, sloppy, and at that point, he lost any control that was left in his body.

Dazed, he didn't even hear the door jerk open. Neither did you, focused on his lips that have moved down to your neck once again.

“What the fuck is this?” a familiar male voice shouted angrily, causing you to pull out of Sunghoon’s touch, scared to look at the man standing in the doorway. You knew it was him.

“Heeseung” Sunghoon murmured, his eyes wide as the realization started to settle in. He stood up from the couch, walking towards the boy who looked like a ticking time bomb.

You sighed, hands in your hair, no words left to be spoken. You felt nothing, Sunghoon’s touch still lingering on your skin, and Heeseung��s words in the air.

“Calm down, Heeseung” Sunghoon said softly, still unsure of the situation that surrounded him.

Instead of that, he got hit with a punch to his face, harshly stumbling backwards, his back pressing against the glass table. He touched his cheek, the sensation causing him to flinch. He could feel the taste of blood in his mouth.

“I’m sorry” he said, looking down, spitting into the glass cup that someone left on the table.

Heeseung smiled seeing his friend's reddish saliva slide down the walls of the glass.

You stayed quiet, hoping the same fate wasn't waiting for you. You wanted to disappear, already creating the monologue you’d spill out to Eunseok as soon as you came home. ‘Please, I need to go back to my old school’ you’d plead until he’d finally give in.

“I’m sure you are, Hoonie” he chuckled, slapping his forearm, taking the cup from his hand “I’m sure you regret it, don’t you” he looked intently at his friend who was struggling to keep eye contact.

Heeseung slammed the cup on the floor, the glass shattering across the wooden panels, causing both you and Sunghoon to flinch.

Sunghoon nodded his head, trying to stand up straight, but failing miserably as Heeseung kicked his lower abdomen with his knee.

“You think it’s okay to mess with your friends girl behind his back?” he asked, holding Sunghoon’s bleeding jaw in his fingers “Is it?”

“No” Sunghoon spat out, looking at Heeseung with his watery eyes, the pain in his stomach unbearable.

“Heeseung, please stop, just stop it” you pleaded, looking up at him from teary eyes, unable to watch anymore “I came onto him, it’s all my fault” you lied, trying to somehow fix what was already broken.

“Is that true” his gaze shifted back and forth from you to Sunghoon, waiting for one of you to give him a straight answer.

You nodded ferociously, while Sunghoon kept his gaze plastered on the floor.

“Get out” he turned to his vunerable friend, his lips dripping in blood, his hand holding onto his stomach.

The view didn't move him one bit.

Sunghoon looked at him and then at you, stumbling on his way to the door, slamming it shut when he finally managed to exit.

“You came onto him, yeah? Did you like it?” he chuckled, a devilish grin on his face as he looked at you, so fragile and afraid of him.

“I’m sorry Hee, I wasn't thinking straight” you explained, mentally preparing for him to strike you at any given moment now.

You should be the one asking for an apology, he should be the one saying sorry for using you.

“Get up” he ordered, extending his hand to you. You looked at him sheepishly, his dark figure standing over you.

You obeyed, taking his cold hand, frightened a little bit by his intimidating and unpredictable behavior. He led you to the bathroom that was placed just across from the couch you were making out with Sunghoon on, stopping in front of the sink.

He looked at you through the mirror, his lips falling to your ear “Spit”

“What?” you asked, your voice cracking.

“You heard me the first time” he said sternly, his gaze never falling from your eyes.

“W-why?” you mumbled, and his small smile dropped.

His fingers squeezed your waist painfully, his other hand shoving your face down towards the sink “When I tell you to do something, you do it” he groaned, and with your eyes shut, you completed his order.

“Wash your mouth” he ordered after a moment, his body pressing against your ass as he held your head in place “Wash all that’s left of him”

You just listened to every word he said. He let go of your hair, letting you look at yourself again. Heeseung smiled, his hands wandering from your waist to the band of your skirt.

“Did you like it when Sunghoon touched you here? Did you feel taken care of? Tell me, pretty girl” his hand slipped down lower, his fingers easily slipping past your panties, hovering over your core.

“I asked you a question” he said more sternly, as you refused to reply to him, your brain fixated on the feeling of his fingers on you.

“I liked it,” you replied truthfully, and he smiled.

“You like when my friends take care of you, don’t you? You’d let Jay fuck you, you’d blow Jake if he asked, wouldn't you?” he asked, and you winced at his words, the sound mixing with the way his fingers played with you.

“But you’d come back to me. You’d come back all swollen from their house to me. Cause you love me” he said, and you nodded, your hips riding his hand that was buried deep in your underwear.

“Want me to fuck you now? Show you who you actually belong to?” he whispered in your ear sweetly, his fingers still teasing your entrance.

“Yes” you managed to utter. Your heart was pounding so hard, a part of you craving Heeseung’s touch, while another one trembled with fear.

He turned you around, you could finally face him. His eyes were dark, his anger mingling in the air. His lips were wet with desire.

“Playing with my best friend, making me watch, you loved it, didn't you baby?” he laughed, his hand escaping your skirt, finding its way to your hips. He pressed himself against you, his hands wandering under your top.

“You’ll get what you want, don’t worry” he smiled, his fingers caressing your lips “That pussy wouldn't give it to you anyway” he laughed, catching you in a sloppy kiss.

“Get on your knees, baby” he said, his tone soft, a caring facade covering his internal rage.

You nodded, softly, sliding down to your knees in front of him. The dimly lit space made him look so beautiful, his harsh words leaving with Sunghoon a while ago.

“You can take it right?” he asked, unbuckling his belt, the material of his black dress pants brushing against your skin as he slid them down.

You felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation as he teased you, palming himself through his boxers. You could see his pulsing erection, the way his face twisted as he continued stimulating himself.

“You wanna see, huh? Dirty girl, you love every second of this” he laughed, his voice laced with innuendo.

Finally, with one hand he slid down his underwear, freeing his thick, hard cock. It slapped against his sculpted torso, and he smiled seeing your face light up.

“You like what you see, yeah? So fucking hard just for you” he asked with amusement, grabbing your jaw.

You nodded, finally being able to see him whole, raw in front of you.

He was now completely exposed before you, fully vulnerable and at your mercy.

“Good. Feel how hard I am for you. Touch me” he said, his eyes never leaving yours.

You reached out tentatively, unsure of your actions, your cold fingers wrapping around his rigid shaft, coating its surface with his arousal as you slowly stroked him. He was hot and pulsing with his heartbeat.

He groaned “Yeah, like that” his eyes closed with pleasure instinctively “Now put it in your pretty mouth” he ordered after a moment.

You leaned forward, as he pulled your hair aside, twirling it in his palm. Your breath tickled his tip, his teeth gritting as he watched you open your mouth for him, and wrap your sweet lips around the head of his cock.

He groaned, your warm mouth hugging him reluctantly. You could taste his bittersweet pre-cum on your toungue, the sensation of his hardness making shivers go down your spine. Your head began to move deeper down his length, finding it difficult to fit all of him inside you.

“Fuck, s’good, suck me nice and slow just like that” he moaned, slightly pushing your head down his cock. He could see the tears forming in your eyes, and it made him twitch in your mouth.

You did as he instructed, taking your time with him, finding the spots that made him react the most, teasing his sensitive underside. Hollowing your cheeks, going faster, Heeseung’s grip on you only tightening with every movement.

You looked so helpless and lost, your mouth full of him. He fought to keep quiet, his other hand gripping the counter, his chest heaving unevenly. Your head bobbed up and down, sending jolts of pleasure through his body.

“Fuck, keep going, I’m close” he whined, his lips parted as he guided you back and forth on his length.

His cock twitched, your movements becoming sloppier as you awaited his climax. You could feel him deep down in your throat, the feeling accompanied by his intense breathing and hoarse moans. His hand gripped your hair tightly, he began to thrust gently, fucking your mouth with slow, deliberate strokes.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck” his voice was strained, his heart racing in his chest “Gonna cum in your mouth, take my load baby”

He groaned, his warm, thick cum spilling all over your tongue, Heeseung’s body shuddering as he emptied his load down your throat.

“Swallow it,” he said, his breath shaky as he rode out his high.

He pulled out after a moment, his cock glistening with your saliva and his juices.

“You’re so perfect” he breathed out, still trying to steady himself “Get up, sweet girl” he instructed, and with an ache to your knees you managed to get up.

His lips hurried to connect with yours, tasting himself on your tongue. Your lips were so soft and wet, your eyes watery. He wiped a salty tear that slipped from your eye. The look on your face took him back to the day he first met you, so pretty and untouched.

“Let me make you feel good now” he whispered, guiding you to the bed, his pants and boxers left abandoned in the bathroom, as he got rid of his shirt while locking the door.

He remembers just how much he fantasized about fucking you behind an unlocked door, hoping one of his sickly perverted friends walked in. But he no longer wanted to share you.

He yearned for you, needed you just like the flesh that wanted to knit itself back together after a fresh wound. His desire was so primal, so intuitive. He was peeling his skin back, the layers slowly unfolding before your eyes.

“Undress for me” he waited, his eyes tracing your every move, his body shivering as he watched you.

If you were ready, he wanted to make you shiver like that too.

You pulled down your black skirt, squeezing your thighs together as you were left only in your underwear. He came towards you, helping with your top half. He puts your hands up, the material gliding against your shaky skin. The fabric falls to the floor with a small thud, leaving you bare for him to adore.

He stood back, admiring the beauty of the girl in front of him. He regretted every spoken word at that moment, every curse, every joke and everything that led up to this moment.

Those words stained his mouth like a pomegranate, the lingering sensation still on his tongue as he took you in.

Heeseung’s lips crashed down on yours, his shivering hands roaming down to your enclosed thighs, spreading you open enough for his fingers to slide through. He explored you with rough urgency, his mind blank as he focused on you and only you.

He moved you down to sit on his lap, his hard on pressing against your ass. He trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck to your chest. Desperation sat heavily on his tongue.

“You’re so pretty, all mine, all this is for me” he mumbled into your skin, his fingers digging at your hips. Your teeth grit, hands pulling his dark hair.

Heeseung was so hungry for you. Hungry for your lips, your flesh, your bones that he wanted to intertwine with his. He was so drunk on love.

His hand slipped down your body, his thumb circling small circles on your clothed heat. He felt the wetness seep through.

He lifted you up, lying you down on the mattress swiftly. He situated himself in between your legs, his eyes scanning your body. You were such a pretty girl, so obedient and welcoming to him. You didn't protest, just did what he asked you to.

“Heeseung, please..” you whispered, and he could feel his heartbeat speed up “I want you inside me” he was amused by your eagerness, the way you were so direct with your words.

“Sweet girl” he murmured, his fingers hooking the band of your pretty pink underwear “So fucking ready for me”

He looked at you one last time, his fingers pulling at your panties, and with a nod to your head, he rolled the fabric down your legs, throwing it next to his abandoned shirt.

“Already this wet?” he raised an eyebrow questioningly “I barely even touched you” a smirk adorned his lips.

He could come just by looking at you, your greed only fueling his own desire to fuck the shit out of you. But he'd hurt you, wouldn't he?

Heeseung’s heart was racing just from the sight of you, his body reacting instantly to the view in front of him. His breath came out in ragged gasps, his pretty blue veins popping out from under his skin.

He aligned himself with you, coating his length with your arousal. His throbbing cock glided in between your folds, your body trembling at the new feeling, as heavy breaths slipped from your mouth. His tip nudged against your entrance, your heart racing. You had never felt anyone this closely, and nothing made you more excited than it being Heeseung after all.

“I won’t hurt you, yeah?” he laughed, his tone low “You think you can take it?” he teased, his tip slipping in and out, each time going just a little further.

“Mhm” you nodded your head, looking at him with your mouth slightly parted.

He leaned down to squeeze your cheeks “Yeah? And you won't cry?” you attempted to nod again, but his grip on you was firm. You just blinked eagerly, and he chuckled, shaking his head.

His tone was inciting, it could almost seem as if he was making fun of you. Yet no other man had ever made you feel so wanted, so good. No man has ever touched you like Heeseung did.

He pressed you down underneath him, holding onto your lower back, his lips wandering all over your damp skin, His touch was rushed, he wanted this just as much as you.

“Ready?” he asked, stroking himself, his gaze glued to you. You breathed out a short conformation, grabbing into his arm that flexed under your touch.

Heeseung nodded, his eyes dark with desire and need. His hands were shaking, his body trembling with the effort of restraint.

He grabbed onto your leg, and with a slow movement, buried himself deep inside you. You gasped, pleading for your body to adjust to the sudden invasion. Heeseung’s cock filled you completely, stretching you out in a way you’d never experienced before. He didn't move, waiting for the look of discomfort to wipe off your face.

You had wanted this. You waited impatiently for Heeseung to take away the one sacred thing you owned- your virginity. You wanted him to be the man that gets to have you first, the love and thirst for him overpowering any rational thoughts.

“Fucking tight” he breathed out, as his head fell back, a low, gutteral moan escaping his lips as he continued to move, his body conusmed by the sheer pleasure.

It didn't take him a long time to bottom out, groans falling from his slightly parted lips. The pain of his thickness was almost exciting, your nails digging at his skin, eyelids becoming heavy. His cock buldged in your stomach, making him moan out loud with no sense of embarrassment.

Your walls gripped onto his length “Feels s'good, shit” his thrusts were slow and delicate, not wanting to break your fragile frame “See this, so fucking deep inside you” he took your hand and pressed it down on your stomach so you could feel him.

“Does it feel nice?” he kissed your neck, his face hugging the side of yours as he picked up his pace.

You turned to look at him “It d-does” you whispered.

He rammed into you, his strokes becoming more frequent and sloppy. His face twisted with pleasure, a stream of euphonious sounds slipped from your lips, powering his own arousal. The music slightly entered the room through the shut door, the sound of skin slapping and heavy breaths overpowering it.

“That’s it, baby” his hands gripped your hips as you moved with him in sync, his body almost automatically responding to any of your movements. Your breathing became increasingly uneven and ragged “Just like that, just like that”

“Fuck, Heeseung” you struggled for breath, his pace becoming infernal.

His eyes ran down your body like never before, his face looking down at you intently, almost like a wolf looking down on its prey. His fingers continued to grab onto anything he managed, his mind going blank as the sound of your cries filled his ears.

The sight and sensation drived you further into ecstasy, his warmth so strong on your skin. You couldn't help the pleasure, a small, salty tear escaping your glossy eyes.

He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a desperate, rough kiss, his body shaking with need. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. His thumb wiped down the tear from your cheek, his eyes hooded as he stared down at you, analyzing the state he had put you in.

“You’re so perfect, so perfect for me” he whispered, his body on fire, every fiber of his being consumed by the overwhelming ecstasy of being inside you, of feeling you beneath him.

Your moans become guttural, body shuddering with overwhelming pleasure at his words, at the thought of having him like this all the time.

“I’m so in love with you, fuck” he breathed out, his heart pounding in his chest.

He knew he was in too deep, knew that he couldn't stop this even if he wanted to, not when he felt like this, burried so fucking deep inside you.

“I’m close” you managed to articulate, your voice strained.

Heeseung nods, his body feeling like he’s on the edge, too. He speeds up his movements, his cock pounding into your tired core at an almost demonic pace. His own senses are overwhelmed by you, his mind and body consumed with desire and pleasure.

He gasps, his mouth moving down to your chest “I’m close too. Just a little more, you can do it. Just a little more” his voice a low, raspy whisper.

You grip his hand tightly, a low moan escaping your lips as Heeseung pushes himself closer to the edge. You were hanging on by a thread, desperate for release, desperate for him.

“I can’t hold back” he groaned, his thighs shaking, control slipping him completely “I’m going to fill you up so deep with my cum, baby. Don’t move”

Heeseung took your heart, his mouth stained red. He kisses you with that mouth, he’s all over you again. He can no longer control himself, each movement throwing him over the edge, his own bravery breaking as you look so much sweeter and smaller under him.

With one last thrust, his body shuddered as he shot his load of cum inside your pulsating walls. His body collapsed on top of you, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath. He continued to move inside you, his fingers holding onto your body, helping you chase your own high.

You close your eyes, releasing your own arousal on his length. Your body shivers and arches beneath him. He groans against your neck, gripping your hip tighter, his own body trembling with pleasure and exertion.

He buries his face into your neck, his breathing slowly starting to even out after a few moments. He can feel your breathing start to even out under him as you came down from your own climax. He held you close, letting the waves of otherworldly pleasure wash over the both of you.

“You were so good” he whispers, his voice still laced with a hint of breathlessness “I love you, so much. I love you so much it hurts”

He couldn’t help it. Those three words have never fallen from his lips, and this time he couldn't blame it on the slip of his tongue. Every bone in his body, his flesh, his tissue, the sinews that bound him together, it flowed in his veins- the uncontrollable desire to love you.

His words struck you to the core. It felt so real, Sunghoon’s confession long gone as you couldn't help but reciprocate his words. With the way he cared for you, it couldn't be true. Heeseung wouldn't use you, he loved you, and you loved him.

You look down at him, and this time he looks much less scary. His eyes aren't so dark and hooded, his hair is messy, and his lips are puffed out.

It’s been so long since you first saw him, your mind completely swapping the first impression he made on you, to something much sweeter and beautiful. You remembered him so well, he was your precious, doe-eyed baby deer. He was never wrong, he was never the bad guy.

The world turned on him, he was innocent. He didn't have a drinking problem, he wasn't smoking too much, he just gave into his teenage curiosity.

He continues to lay on top of you, arms wrapping around you, his face buried into your neck. He takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent, savoring the feeling of you beneath him.

“I’m sorry, baby” he whispers, his voice laced with a hint of shame and regret. “I’m so sorry” he repeats and you look at him, confused.

“What? Is everything okay?” you ask, caressing his hair, twirling small pieces in your fingers “You're scaring me”

He sighs, his heart breaking “Sunghoon was right. I told him to do it. I told him to tell you the truth”

taglist: @deobitifull @yunhoswrldddd @parksunghoonsgf @itgirlalisaa @alienqbrain @cyjhhyj @missycheif1404

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creamflix · 20 hours ago

Text

ONCE MORE TO SEE YOU — toji fushiguro x female reader [oneshot]

summary: you’re a single mom with a schedule that leaves little room for anything but work and longing. twice a week, you get to hold your daughter close, pouring all your love into moments that always feel too short. across the hallway, there’s toji — a single dad who watches from a distance, arms crossed, jaw tight, as he wonders how you juggle work and parenting and still manage to make your kid so happy. at first, he’s envious. envious of your composure, your warmth, the way your daughter looks at you like you’re her whole world. but slowly, that envy shifts. what happens when two broken hearts start to lean on each other, finding strength in the spaces they thought would stay empty? can you let someone in without fear of breaking again? can he?

content warnings: fluff, slight angst with comfort. strangers to friends to lovers. slow burn. single parent/divorced (female) reader. single parent toji. reader has a girl [aged 8-9] no name specified, megumi is the same age as well. reader has a toxic/manipulative ex husband. happy ending. lot of feels. very personally penned </3 mentions of other characters: nanami, yuuji, nobara, gojo & sukuna

read on ao3!

toji didn’t usually care much about other people’s business, but you? you were impossible to ignore.

it wasn’t just because your door slammed too loud when your kid came running out, or because you always seemed to be lugging some heavy-ass groceries up the stairs with that determined scowl of yours. it was how you did it all like some damn perfectionist.

toji hated it.

hated the way it made him feel like he should be trying harder too, especially when his kid, megumi, was busy leaving trails of destruction like a little tornado.

“megumi, stop throwing the damn ball against the wall!” he bellowed one evening, slumping further into his couch. the kid ignored him, of course.

then, as if the universe hated him, your door creaked open, and there you were, strolling into the hallway like you had nothing better to do. arms crossed, brows raised, you peered down at him with that no-nonsense air of yours.

“maybe he’s bored?” you suggested, leaning casually against your doorframe.

toji snorted. “maybe he’s just an asshole.”

your face scrunched in disapproval, the kind he’d seen a million times from the PTA moms who used to glare at him when he showed up late to pick up megumi. but you didn’t launch into a lecture like he expected. instead, you glanced at megumi, who had paused mid-throw to stare at you, and crouched down to his level.

“hey, buddy,” you said, voice softening in a way that made toji’s stomach twist. “why don’t you try aiming for that spot over there?” you pointed to a section of the wall that wouldn’t drive everyone insane. megumi actually listened, and toji couldn’t decide if he was impressed or pissed off.

“what, you think you’re some kind of kid whisperer?” he muttered, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket.

you stood, brushing off your knees, and looked him dead in the eye. “no, but i know how to talk to them.”

toji scowled. “yeah, must be nice, being born with that magic ‘mom gene.’”

you blinked, then burst out laughing, and for some reason, that annoyed him even more.

“mom gene? toji, i only have my kid on weekends. the rest of the time, it’s just me and a bottle of wine trying not to lose my mind.”

he frowned, caught off guard. “wait, what?”

“yeah, divorce does that to you.” your voice was breezy, but your eyes flickered with something darker for a split second. “not that it’s any of your business.”

toji chewed on that revelation, something prickling at the edges of his brain. you weren’t some perfect supermom after all. you were just...getting by, same as him.

the realization didn’t sit well — it made you seem less annoying and more...real. vulnerable, even.

“huh,” he grunted, looking away, suddenly too aware of how quiet the hallway had gotten. megumi was still tossing the ball, but it was softer now, more controlled. “guess you’re not as put together as you seem.”

“and you’re not as big of a jerk as you seem,” you shot back, giving him a pointed look before retreating to your apartment.

toji stared after you, jaw tight, until the door clicked shut. something about you made him itch, made him feel like he needed to either punch a wall or figure out why he couldn’t stop thinking about how you smiled at his kid.

damn it.

toji sat at the edge of his couch, one hand wrapped around a cold beer and the other flipping through a stack of bills. the TV was on, low volume, playing some mindless sports recap he wasn’t even watching. megumi was somewhere in his room, the faint clatter of toys filtering down the hall. the kid had been sulking since this morning, muttering about how “nobody does anything fun.”

he grunted, rubbing a hand down his face. it wasn’t like he didn’t want to take the kid out, but hell, it was hard enough keeping the lights on. trips to the park felt like a luxury he couldn’t afford — time or energy.

and then he heard it. your laugh, loud and unapologetic, echoing in the hallway like it owned the place. toji tilted his head back against the couch, scowling at the ceiling as if that would make the sound go away. it didn’t. instead, it was followed by the high-pitched giggle of your kid, shrieking with joy as the two of you stomped down the stairs.

“hold on, mama needs her shoes!” your voice floated up through the doorframe, playful but firm.

“hurry! we’re gonna miss the swings!” your daughter yelled back, her excitement enough to make toji wince. he could practically see the image of you two — hand in hand, all smiles, making your way to the park like you didn’t have a care in the world.

his jaw tightened. perfect. just another reminder of how much he sucked at this parenting thing.

he took a long swig of his beer and stared at the stack of bills like it was their fault he couldn’t be the kind of dad who made his kid laugh like that. no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t just...be you. he didn’t know how to make life look that easy.

“megumi,” he called, his voice rougher than he meant it to be.

there was a pause, the kind that made him think the kid wasn’t going to answer, before a small, reluctant “yeah?” drifted back.

toji sighed, setting the beer down. “you wanna...go outside or somethin’?”

another pause. then: “what for?”

the response hit harder than he cared to admit. what for? shouldn’t his kid want to? shouldn’t he be the one excited to spend time with his old man? but megumi sounded skeptical, like he’d already decided it wouldn’t be fun.

“never mind,” toji muttered, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “forget it.”

the sound of the door to megumi’s room clicking shut made toji’s shoulders sag further.

outside, your laughter faded, replaced by the echo of your footsteps retreating into the distance. he leaned back on the couch, staring at the flickering TV screen, feeling something in his chest tighten and pull.

toji didn’t know when exactly it had started bothering him — this stupid, begrudging little alliance the two of you had. you’d come over when megumi refused his medicine, talking to the kid with that low, steady voice of yours until he opened his mouth like it was no big deal. and toji would come over when your sink started leaking, muttering under his breath the whole time about how you should’ve called a damn plumber.

but this? this was different. it wasn’t about fixing a sink or calming a tantrum. it was about the fact that you always seemed to do better — better at this whole parenting thing, better at making life fun, better at...everything.

and he hated that. hated how it made him feel like he was doing it all wrong.

maybe tomorrow would be different. maybe tomorrow he’d try harder. but for tonight, toji sat in the dim light of his living room, beer in hand, listening to the muffled sounds of megumi’s toys clattering in the other room, and let himself wonder — just for a second — what it’d be like to get it right.

your neighbors thought you had it all figured out — the strict yet cool mom who always had her shit together. you weren’t the one scrambling for groceries or apologizing to the pharmacist because you forgot to refill a prescription. no, your pantry was always stocked, the fridge had every snack your daughter loved, and there was always a pack of pads tucked in the bathroom cabinet, just in case. because if there was one thing you were going to do, it was prepare. even if it was only for two days a week.

but those two days weren’t enough. not for you, anyway.

your daughter was happy, blissfully unaware of how unnatural this arrangement felt to you. she was too young to see what you saw, to feel the cracks in your chest every time sunday evening rolled around and your ex-husband came to pick her up. you watched her climb into the car without a second thought, giggling about whatever they had planned for the week ahead, and you stood on the curb with a smile that felt like it might crack your face in half.

because this wasn’t the norm. at least, it shouldn’t have been.

but she didn’t know that, and how could you tell her? how could you explain that the only reason the divorce had been so clean and quick was because you’d made sure it was? no yelling, no lawyers, no drawn-out battles over custody. you wanted it over before she could develop memories sharp enough to stick.

and it worked — she was happy. unbothered. as if this was just how life was supposed to be.

you hated it.

you hated it almost as much as you hated sitting alone in your too-quiet apartment for the other five days of the week, waiting. hoping. praying for something, anything, that would keep her with you longer.

sometimes, you’d stare at your phone, willing it to light up with a text from your ex. something like hey, last-minute work trip, can you take her this week? or she’s asking to stay with you, is that okay?

but those texts never came. and your little girl never asked. she loved you, you knew that, but she didn’t need you in the way you wished she did. not yet.

not like you needed her.

so, you waited. and in the waiting, you heard everything else.

the muffled shouts of toji and his kid through the walls. the occasional crash of what was probably a wrestling match in their living room. the bark of laughter when megumi said something funny. the kind of noise that used to fill your own apartment, before the silence settled in like an unwelcome guest.

you missed that noise. you missed the mess of it, the chaos, the constant reminder that there was life happening right in front of you.

some nights, you’d hear megumi’s voice drift into the hallway, arguing with his dad about bedtime, and you’d feel a pang in your chest so sharp it made you suck in a breath. you didn’t even know what you were hoping for anymore — a reason to knock on toji’s door? an excuse to borrow sugar or offer some unsolicited parenting advice? maybe it was just the idea of not being alone that called to you, the longing for that noise to become a permanent fixture in your home.

but the door stayed closed, and you stayed on your side, waiting.

thanksgiving wasn’t something you cared much for anymore. your daughter was off with your ex, being doted on by her grandparents, and you were left standing in the middle of your apartment wondering what the hell you were supposed to do with yourself. the thought of spending the day bouncing from bar to bar, pretending like you didn’t care that you were alone, felt more pathetic than liberating.

you had just grabbed your coat, keys jangling in hand, when the knock came. not a gentle knock, either — a heavy, impatient pounding. opening the door, you found megumi standing there, arms crossed and wearing a scowl that was all too familiar.

“you need to come help my dad,” he said bluntly.

you blinked. “uh, what?”

“the turkey,” he clarified, rolling his eyes like you should’ve already known. “he’s gonna burn it. again.”

you almost said no. you really did. it wasn’t your problem if toji fushiguro couldn’t figure out how to roast a turkey. but then megumi fixed you with a look — stubborn, determined, his little fists clenching at his sides — and you saw your daughter in him. that same unyielding resolve she’d inherited from you.

before you could stop yourself, you sighed and grabbed your shoes.

“fine,” you muttered. “but only because i don’t wanna smell burnt turkey through the walls for the next week.”

megumi led the way, not bothering to wait for you to catch up, and by the time you stepped into toji’s apartment, the chaos was already underway. toji was in the kitchen, glaring at the bird like it had personally insulted him, sleeves rolled up and hair a mess. megumi darted off to the living room, immediately digging through his toys, leaving you standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“you planning to just stand there, or are you gonna help?” toji barked without looking up.

“oh, i’m sorry,” you shot back, shrugging off your coat and stepping into the kitchen. “i didn’t realize i was signing up to save thanksgiving.”

“yeah, yeah, just don’t touch the knives,” he grumbled, handing you a bowl of stuffing. “last thing i need is you slicing a finger off.”

“cute,” you deadpanned, elbowing him out of the way to check the turkey. “you’re supposed to baste it, you know. not drown it in oil.”

toji huffed but stepped aside, muttering something under his breath about know-it-alls. for the next hour, the two of you worked in tandem — him grumbling every time you corrected him, you rolling your eyes every time he ignored your advice only to realize you were right. it was messy and loud, and megumi kept wandering into the kitchen to ask if he could “decorate the turkey” with his action figures.

“no,” you and toji said in unison, making megumi pout and stomp back to his toys.

you hated to admit it, but it felt...nice. domestic, even. like the kind of thanksgiving you used to dream about before everything fell apart.

when the turkey was finally done, golden and steaming, toji leaned against the counter, wiping his hands on a towel. “well, guess that’s not a total disaster,” he said, nodding toward the bird.

“you’re welcome,” you replied, smirking.

toji glanced at you, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. then, in a tone that was almost shy — almost — he added, “you, uh...you should stay. for dinner, i mean. since you helped.”

you hesitated, the instinct to say no already on your tongue. but then megumi poked his head around the corner, grinning as he asked if it was time to eat yet, and something in your chest softened.

“yeah,” you said, surprising even yourself. “yeah, i guess i could stay.”

for once, you didn’t worry about whether it was selfish to want this — to sit at a table with someone else’s kid, someone else’s dad, and pretend, just for a little while, that it was your own family.

you barely had time to put your keys down when your daughter bolted out the door, still wearing her ballet costume — tutu, tights, and all.

“where are you going?” you called after her, already regretting the question as you hurried to follow.

by the time you reached the hallway, she was standing in front of megumi, who looked as though he had just rolled out of bed. his hair stuck up in every direction, and he was clutching a carton of milk he’d clearly just retrieved from the grocery bag hanging outside his door. the poor kid froze like a deer caught in headlights as your daughter crossed her arms and declared, “you’re the same height as me. you have to practice with me.”

megumi blinked at her, then at you, then back at her. “what?”

“pirouettes,” she said matter-of-factly, pointing to her little satin shoes. “you just have to stand there and twirl, like this.” she spun in place, her tutu flaring out as she executed a clumsy turn.

“uh...” megumi glanced at the milk in his hand, clearly weighing his options. then, with a defeated grumble that sounded eerily like his dad, he said, “fine. but only for five minutes.”

you were about to step in, to scold her for bothering someone she didn’t know, but then megumi set the milk down and mimicked her spin, his movements stiff and awkward but surprisingly cooperative. the sight of the two of them twirling in the hallway — her with all the determination of a drill sergeant, him with the resigned patience of a kid who had long since accepted the absurdity of his life — made you pause.

“no, no, your arm’s supposed to go here,” she corrected, pulling his hand up into what you assumed was a ballet pose. megumi didn’t protest, just followed her instructions with a tiny scowl on his face.

you leaned against the doorframe, half-amused, half-stunned. the hallway was hardly the place for this — the flickering overhead light and slightly dingy carpet hardly screamed “dance studio” — but neither of them seemed to care. they were kids, after all. they didn’t need permission or a proper setting to make something fun out of nothing.

toji’s door creaked open, and he stepped out, rubbing the back of his neck. his eyes landed on the two kids, and his brows shot up. “what the hell’s goin’ on here?”

you smirked. “your kid’s being recruited as a dance partner.”

toji snorted, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. “looks like he’s takin’ it seriously.”

“he’s a good sport,” you admitted, watching as your daughter adjusted megumi’s stance like a tiny ballet instructor.

“yeah, well, don’t let him hear you say that. he’s already got enough of an attitude,” toji muttered, though there was a trace of pride in his voice.

you laughed softly, watching as the two kids twirled down the hallway like it was the most natural thing in the world. for a moment, you felt that familiar pang in your chest — the one that came from watching your daughter interact with someone so freely, so innocently. it reminded you of something you’d almost forgotten: kids didn’t care about the social rules adults imposed on them. they didn’t worry about boundaries or appearances. they just...were.

and maybe, just maybe, you could learn something from that.

you had rules. hard, fast rules you swore by, especially when it came to relationships. your daughter was your priority, and anything — or anyone — that complicated the fragile arrangement of custody and weekend visits was a hard no.

you’d learned that the hard way.

it was supposed to be just another date. nothing serious, nothing special. just someone you’d met through a friend of a friend, someone who seemed decent enough at first glance.

but “decent enough” didn’t cut it when he started poking around your home like it was his, asking invasive questions about your parenting and making himself far too comfortable in the space you shared with your daughter.

the final straw came when your girl, barely out of her toddler years, tugged on your sleeve and whispered, “i don’t like him.”

you snapped. you didn’t care about niceties or keeping things civil. your voice was sharp and unrelenting as you told him to leave, not sparing a second thought for his protests or excuses. when he didn’t take the hint, standing there like he had every right to argue with you in your own home, the commotion must have reached the hallway because toji showed up.

he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his eyes hard and unwavering. “you heard her,” he said, his voice calm but carrying an edge that could slice through steel. “get the hell out.”

the man hesitated, glancing between you and toji, before finally storming out with a string of muttered curses. the door slammed behind him, and you exhaled, your shoulders sagging under the weight of your anger.

toji didn’t say anything, just gave you a curt nod before disappearing back into his apartment. but his presence lingered, a silent reminder that someone else got it. someone else understood that when it came to your kids, there were no compromises. if they didn’t like someone, that was the end of it. no debate, no second chances.

because the truth was, kids had a steadfast sense of people. they could see what adults often ignored or rationalized away. and if your little girl didn’t like someone, then that was reason enough to show them the door.

it wasn’t about being strict or overprotective. it was about being selfless in the way only a parent could be — putting your child’s comfort and safety above your own needs, no matter how lonely or frustrating it could be.

and as much as you hated that night, as much as it left you raw and questioning your own choices, it also reaffirmed something you already knew: your girl came first. always.

toji didn’t see the point of relationships. not when all he needed was a night of sex and no strings attached. a quick call, a casual meet-up, and back to their place or the backseat of his car — it was simple, clean, and didn’t involve his son.

rules were rules. no bringing anyone home, ever. it wasn’t just about protecting megumi’s innocence; it was about maintaining some semblance of order in the chaos of their lives.

megumi wasn’t clueless, though. he’d catch on when his dad had a “special lady friend,” his young mind putting two and two together. but he never lingered on it — he was too preoccupied with his toys or his own little world to ask questions. still, toji made it a point to keep those two parts of his life separate. or at least, he tried to.

then there was that night. the one he wished he could erase entirely.

it started with a hookup — someone he barely knew, someone who got a flat tire on the way to meet him. she called him in a panic, and toji, feeling half-responsible, told her to wait downstairs while he scrounged up some cash to help her out. it was supposed to be quick, a simple transaction before he sent her on her way.

but when he opened his apartment door to check on megumi, there she was, standing in the hallway, looking between him and his son like she’d just uncovered some dirty secret.

“seriously?” she snapped, her voice rising. “you have a kid, and you didn’t tell me? what kinda man are you?”

toji froze, his jaw tightening. “it’s not like that,” he started, already regretting everything about this situation. “he’s my son, yeah, but —”

“oh my god,” she interrupted, her voice dripping with something he couldn’t quite place.

“you’re a single dad? that’s so...hot. like, wow, you’re doing all this on your own? it’s inspiring.”

toji stared at her, horrified. was this some kind of joke? how the hell did she jump from being pissed to romanticizing his life? did she think being a single parent was some kind of aesthetic?

before he could say anything, you appeared from your apartment, drawn out by the commotion. one look at the scene and you put the pieces together — the woman’s flirtatious tone, toji’s visible irritation, megumi standing awkwardly behind his dad.

“are you serious right now?” you said, your voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “do you even hear yourself? you don’t just barge into someone’s home and start fantasizing about their struggles like it’s some rom-com plot.”

the woman blinked, clearly taken aback, but you didn’t stop. “being a single parent isn’t some cute little quirk, okay? it’s hard work. it’s messy and exhausting, and you don’t get to stand there and act like it’s sexy or whatever weird thing you’re doing right now. you’re embarrassing yourself.”

toji folded his arms, leaning against the doorframe as he watched you with something close to amusement. “yeah,” he added, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “what she said.”

the woman huffed, muttered something about how she “didn’t mean it like that,” and stormed off, leaving behind a cloud of awkward silence.

you turned to toji, your arms crossed. “seriously, fushiguro? what the hell was that?”

“don’t look at me,” he grunted. “i told her to wait downstairs. didn’t think she’d take it as an invitation to meet my kid.”

“well, maybe next time, screen your hookups better,” you shot back before glancing at megumi. “you okay, honey?”

megumi shrugged, holding his pillow like it was a shield. “she was weird.”

toji sighed, running a hand through his hair. “tell me about it.”

as you headed back to your apartment, you muttered loud enough for him to hear, “unbelievable.”

toji couldn’t argue with that.

pta meetings were never on your radar — your ex had made sure of that. "you don’t need to stress about these things," he’d said, his tone dismissive, as if your role as a parent didn’t extend to showing up for your own kid. but the moment he insisted one too many times, you knew it was less about easing your workload and more about him basking in the spotlight of being the ever-dedicated single dad.

you weren’t having it anymore.

so, there you were, shuffling awkwardly through the school halls, feeling like a stranger in your own child’s life. asking for directions to the third-grade pta made you feel ridiculous, but not nearly as much as the sight that greeted you when you finally found the room.

your daughter sat next to her father, the picture of poise and politeness. her hands folded neatly in her lap, her back straight, nodding along as if she’d been practicing for a commercial. for a moment, you wondered if you’d walked into the wrong classroom.

but then her eyes flicked to the door, and the facade crumbled. she leaped out of her chair, her tiny legs carrying her toward you as she yelled, “mama!” loud enough to turn heads. the force of her hug nearly knocked the wind out of you, but you didn’t care. this — her joy, her excitement — was worth every awkward second of wandering the school halls.

your ex, however, looked less than thrilled. his jaw tightened, his smile turned brittle, and you swore his ears went red.

“you’re not supposed to be here,” he hissed, his voice low but venomous. “we agreed —”

“you decided,” you cut him off, your voice calm but firm. “i have just as much right to be here as you do.”

your daughter, oblivious to the tension, looked up at both of you with wide, curious eyes. “but daddy said you don’t like school stuff,” she said, her little brow furrowed. “is that true?”

you knelt down, brushing a stray hair from her face. “of course not, sweetheart. i love being here for you. don’t ever think otherwise, okay?”

her face lit up again, but the moment was short-lived. your ex scoffed, muttering something under his breath about boundaries and making a scene. you felt the familiar heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck, the weight of the other parents’ stares pressing down on you.

and then, as if on cue, toji strolled in with megumi trailing behind him, looking as uninterested as ever.

toji’s eyes scanned the room, landing on the little drama unfolding between you and your ex. a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “looks like i’m not the only one dreading this circus,” he drawled, loud enough for everyone to hear.

megumi, clutching a slightly crumpled report card, muttered, “dad, can we just sit down?”

toji ignored him, stepping closer to where you were standing. “need backup?” he asked, his tone teasing but with a glint of seriousness in his eyes.

your ex bristled, standing a little straighter. “this isn’t any of your business.”

“maybe not,” toji said, crossing his arms, “but if you’re gonna start a scene in front of your kid, might as well make it entertaining for the rest of us.”

you bit back a laugh, your shoulders relaxing for the first time since you’d walked into the room. your ex muttered something incoherent before storming back to his seat, clearly deciding he’d rather sulk than argue with toji.

“thanks,” you said quietly, glancing at him.

“don’t mention it,” he replied, waving a hand. “besides, i could use the distraction. these meetings are the worst.”

megumi sighed dramatically, dragging his dad toward the nearest empty seats. your daughter tugged on your hand, pulling you toward her spot. “sit next to me, mommy!” she insisted, her voice brimming with excitement.

and just like that, the weight of embarrassment lifted. maybe the pta wasn’t so dreadful after all.

stationery shopping ranked high on toji’s list of things he’d rather not do. it wasn’t just the hassle of navigating cramped aisles and overly enthusiastic sales clerks — it was the quiet longing he saw in megumi’s eyes. his kid had always been practical, never asking for much. a pencil and eraser were all he ever said he needed.

but toji wasn’t blind. he noticed the way megumi’s gaze lingered on superhero-themed pouches, colorful erasers, or fancy gel pens that clicked in three different colors.

today, however, megumi wasn’t eyeing superheroes. he stood rooted in front of the store’s most ridiculously pink setup — hello kitty galore. pink pouches, glittery pens, stickers with cartoon bows and sparkles. “what’re ya staring at, brat?” toji grumbled, leaning against the cart.

“nothing,” megumi mumbled, looking down at his sneakers.

toji raised a brow. “yeah, sure. ‘nothing’ has you glued there like a statue.”

“it’s for...her,” megumi muttered, barely loud enough to hear.

“her?” for a second, toji wondered if his kid had cooked up another imaginary friend. but then it clicked. “her” wasn’t imaginary — it was your daughter. ever since she had dragged megumi into practicing her ballet routine in the hallway, she’d been on his radar. toji had caught him talking about her in passing, dropping little comments about her sparkly shoes or how good she was at balancing on her toes.

toji scratched the back of his head, sighing. “alright, pick something out.”

megumi’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. “really?”

“yeah, really. just don’t make me regret it.”

a few minutes later, toji was standing in line with a glittery-pen set, the kind of thing he never thought he’d buy in his lifetime. at checkout, he stared at the receipt longer than necessary, grumbling about how overpriced stationery had gotten. still, he couldn’t shake the thought of megumi’s sheepish little smile when he picked out the pen set.

later that day, toji knocked on your door, the pen set in hand. when you opened it, he held the package out awkwardly. “here,” he said gruffly. “megs wanted to give this to your girl.”

you blinked in surprise, looking between him and the gift. “oh, uh, thank you. that’s sweet of him.”

“yeah, well, don’t make a big deal out of it,” he muttered, already turning to leave.

“wait.” you disappeared into the apartment for a moment before coming back with a box in hand. “give this to megumi. my daughter won it in a raffle at school and insisted it was for him.”

toji frowned, taking the box. when he opened it, his jaw nearly dropped. inside was a limited-edition action figure of megumi’s favorite superhero, still in its pristine packaging. “seriously?” he asked, glancing up at you.

you shrugged, smiling. “she said he deserves it for helping her with ballet.”

when toji handed the box to megumi later, the boy’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “this is for me?” he asked, his voice almost disbelieving.

“yep,” toji said, leaning against the doorframe, a smirk tugging at his lips. “from her.”

megumi cradled the box like it was made of glass, his face lighting up in a way toji hadn’t seen in a while. “she’s...cool,” he mumbled, his ears turning red.

toji snorted, ruffling his son’s hair. “yeah, kid. guess she is.”

it started with the clatter of plastic pots and pans echoing in the hallway. toji peeked out, ready to bark at whoever was making the ruckus, only to see your kid — a whirlwind in a frilly dress — dragging megumi out of the apartment by his wrist. toji frowned, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “what’s she up to now?” he muttered to himself.

your girl had plopped her miniature kitchen set right in the middle of the hallway, setting it up with an authority that would make a professional chef jealous. “okay, megumi,” she declared, hands on her hips. “we’re playing house-house.”

megumi shuffled awkwardly, glancing at the scattered pink cookware. “uh...i don’t know how to play,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

your daughter waved off his hesitation with a dramatic flourish. “it’s easy! you’re the dad, and i’m the mom, and we make dinner together.”

toji suppressed a snort. the dad, huh? poor kid.

but then megumi, shifting uncomfortably, mumbled, “what’s...a dad supposed to do?”

your daughter blinked at him, pausing her bustling activity. “you don’t know?”

he shook his head, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“well,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact, “my dad doesn’t play house-house much. but it’s okay! we’ll just figure it out.”

toji’s chest tightened at her words, his grip on the doorframe unconsciously tightening. he didn’t think a kid’s game could hit so close to home, but there it was. she said it so simply, so innocently, like it was a fact of life. and megumi just nodded, kneeling down next to her and fumbling with a tiny plastic frying pan, like he was trying to make sense of a concept he couldn’t quite grasp.

when he glanced across the hall, he saw you standing there. you weren’t smiling. the look in your eyes was a mirror of his own — quiet, pained recognition. you knew. how could you not? this was your life too, wasn’t it? this strange, fragmented version of what a “home” was supposed to be.

and for once, toji didn’t have a quip or a grumble. he just stood there, watching his kid try to figure out what “playing house” meant, wondering if maybe the real problem wasn’t the game at all.

there were days when the weight of work pressed so heavily on your shoulders, you didn’t know if you’d make it to bedtime without breaking. days when you stared at your laptop screen, the relentless deadlines pounding in your head, and wondered if anyone cared enough to ask how you were holding up.

your daughter? what could you even tell an eight-year-old? that mamma’s work feels like it’s swallowing her whole? your ex? let’s not kid anyone — he didn’t give a damn.

so when you heard the faint knock on your door, you sighed, ready to dismiss whatever delivery or inconvenience had shown up at your doorstep. but it wasn’t a courier. it was megumi, standing there awkwardly, holding a casserole dish that looked far too heavy for him.

“uh, hi,” he mumbled, not meeting your eyes. “my dad said you should eat this. and, um...are you okay?”

you blinked, caught completely off guard. “i — yeah, i’m fine. why are you —”

“dad said you looked ‘off.’” he shifted his weight, staring at the floor like the words were a script he was forced to read. “so he made food. and, uh...he said you should eat it. or something.”

you stared at the casserole, the steam fogging up the glass lid, before your gaze moved back to megumi. “your dad sent you?”

megumi nodded, still not looking up. “yeah. but also...uh, you shouldn’t be sad. ’cause my teacher says work is like a big test. and you can’t cry during tests.”

you let out a soft laugh despite yourself. “is that so?”

“yeah,” he said, more confidently now. “and also...you should have cookies after tests. or...or, like, cake. something sweet.”

you crouched down so you were eye level with him, your exhaustion momentarily forgotten. “thank you, megumi. you’re very thoughtful.”

he shrugged, his ears turning red. “it’s just what people do, right?”

“you’re absolutely right,” you said, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “tell your dad thank you for the food, okay?”

megumi nodded, suddenly eager to escape, and darted back toward his apartment. as you stood, watching him go, you caught a glimpse of toji leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed, pretending like he wasn’t paying attention. your eyes met, and he gave a half-smirk, a silent acknowledgment that, yeah, he sent his kid over to do the emotional heavy lifting.

you didn’t know whether to laugh or roll your eyes, but as you brought the casserole inside and inhaled the warm, comforting aroma, you realized it didn’t matter. the gesture had worked.

and for the first time that day, you felt a little less alone.

toji leaned against the garbage chute, the crumpled bag dangling from his grip like the weight of his entire day had been stuffed inside it. his head was pounding, his nerves frayed, and the sheer mental load of keeping everything together made his chest feel tight.

just one drink, he thought. one drink to take the edge off.

but the thought of megumi catching even a whiff of whiskey on his breath, of being the kind of dad who needed an escape like that, stopped him cold.

that’s when you showed up, bag in hand, hair disheveled from a long day. you gave him a quick glance, your usual mixture of mild irritation and casual acknowledgment, before tossing your garbage into the chute.

“you look like hell,” you said bluntly, folding your arms.

“gee, thanks,” toji shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. “needed that.”

you didn’t flinch. instead, you just leaned against the wall beside him, watching as he seemed to wrestle with something internally. you weren’t dumb — you could tell when someone was running on fumes.

“you ever feel like you’re drowning?” he asked suddenly, surprising even himself with the admission.

you blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. “constantly,” you replied, your tone softer than usual. “but i’m guessing you mean with the whole...single parent thing.”

toji chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “ding, ding. i don’t know how you do it. you make it look...effortless.”

“effortless?” you raised an eyebrow, almost laughing at the absurdity. “you think i have it together? newsflash, toji: my kid’s with me two days a week. that’s not parenting perfection. that’s a weekend babysitting gig.”

“still,” he muttered. “you make those two days count. i see it. i hear it.”

you exhaled, running a hand through your hair. “look, i don’t have all the answers. but what i’ve learned? you can’t do it all. not perfectly. no one can. and pretending you can is just setting yourself up to fail. so...cut yourself some slack. you’re not screwing up as bad as you think.”

he stared at you for a moment, the words sinking in like drops of water on parched earth. it wasn’t a grand revelation, but coming from you — iron mom of the year — it hit different.

“you really believe that?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

you shrugged. “not always. but it’s what i tell myself when i feel like i’m about to lose it. sometimes it helps. sometimes it doesn’t. but it’s better than drinking yourself stupid.”

toji’s eyes flicked to you, his brow furrowing. “how’d you —”

“please,” you cut him off. “you think i don’t know that look? seen it in the mirror too many times.”

he huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “you’re something else, you know that?”

“so are you,” you countered, nudging his arm lightly. “whether you believe it or not. and whether you’ll admit it or not.”

he didn’t respond, just stood there for a moment, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. and as you turned to head back to your apartment, he found himself standing a little taller, the crushing weight of the day feeling just a little lighter.he still wouldn’t call it respect. but maybe, just maybe, he didn’t hate you as much as he thought.

your ex’s text had felt like a sucker punch, the kind that knocked the wind right out of you. you’d stared at the message for far too long, rereading his smug little declaration: “taking her on a trip she’ll never forget. don’t worry about the details.”

no invite for you, no mention of her asking for you — just a cruel reminder that he still had ways to hurt you. and for her birthday, of all things.

you spent the next two weeks in a fog. the silence in your apartment was deafening without her, no shrieks of laughter, no tiny footsteps running to show you her latest masterpiece. it felt like someone had pressed pause on your life, leaving you stuck in this unbearable limbo. every day you’d get up, go to work, and come home to the same aching emptiness. you even avoided the hallway, unwilling to face anyone — not even toji and megumi.

but then, one evening, as you were sorting through yet another pile of takeout containers, you heard a soft knock on your door. when you opened it, there stood megumi, clutching a piece of paper in his small hands. he shoved it toward you without a word, his face unreadable, before bolting back down the hall.

you closed the door, confused, and unfolded the note. it was written in uneven, colorful crayon strokes, the kind only a kid could produce:

dear y/n, pls come to my bithday party. we having cake and maybe pizza dad said okay i want you to come :) from megumi

your breath caught in your throat, and before you knew it, hot tears were streaming down your face. it was the kind of pure, innocent gesture that knocked down every wall you’d tried to build over the past two weeks. megumi didn’t know the weight of what he’d just done — how he’d given you a reason to get out of bed, to care about something again.

you clutched the note to your chest, letting out a shaky laugh through your tears. for the first time in weeks, you felt a flicker of warmth. maybe you couldn’t be there for your own daughter’s birthday this year, but for megumi? you’d show up.

and maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t feel so alone.

toji swore he hadn’t stopped pacing since he woke up that morning.

megumi’s birthday.

the kid had been talking about it for weeks, dropping subtle (and not-so-subtle) hints about what he wanted. toji had done his best — got the decorations, ordered the cake, and even splurged on superhero-themed plates and napkins. but standing in the middle of his living room, now transformed into a battlefield of action figure balloons and capes, he couldn’t help but feel like a superhero himself — one on the verge of a breakdown.

megumi had insisted on handling the invites, which in hindsight might’ve been a mistake. the first arrivals were fine enough: yuuji and nobara, two of megumi’s classmates. yuuji was all boundless energy and chaos, while nobara strutted in like she was already running the place. “where’s the cake?” she demanded, hands on her hips. toji grunted and pointed toward the kitchen.

then came the wild card. the bane of his existence.

“tooojjjji!” gojo’s voice echoed through the apartment, loud and grating as ever. “heard there’s a party! didn’t wanna miss out.” he waltzed in, sunglasses perched on his stupidly perfect nose, a massive gift bag in hand that screamed overcompensating. toji pinched the bridge of his nose. why me?

and then, you. you stepped in, looking a little hesitant, holding a neatly wrapped present in one hand. megumi practically lit up when he saw you, rushing over to tug you inside. “you came!” he exclaimed, grinning ear to ear. toji froze for a moment, then scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“didn’t think you’d actually show,” he muttered, avoiding your eyes.

“megumi invited me,” you said simply, smiling down at the boy. “couldn’t say no to the birthday boy, now could i?”

toji grunted in response, but deep down, he was relieved. somehow, having you there made the chaos of the day feel a little more manageable.

the party was... chaotic, to say the least. yuuji inhaled pizza like it was a sport and promptly threw up in the kitchen sink, much to nobara’s disgust. “ewwwww, you’re so groooossss!” she shrieked, dodging as yuuji stumbled past her. toji was already on the phone with yuuji’s older brother, sukuna, who arrived not long after, looking pissed as hell.

“i told him not to eat like a damn vacuum,” sukuna growled, hauling yuuji out the door.

megumi, meanwhile, didn’t seem fazed by any of it. he was too busy showing off his new action figures to your daughter, who somehow managed to make it to the party just a few hours before her flight. you and toji exchanged a glance — a silent acknowledgment that, despite the chaos, the kids were happy.

and somehow, so were you.

with your daughter off on her dad's two-and-a-half-week escapade, you found yourself with something rare and unsettling: free time. the emptiness of your apartment felt heavier without her laughter filling the corners, so you did what any sane, lonely adult would do — you forced yourself to go out. and somehow, somehow, you ended up on a date with nanami kento.

god, he was perfect. the kind of perfect that made your chest ache. polite, well-mannered, and respectful, with a quiet intensity that felt... safe. he opened doors, listened like you were the only person in the world, and didn’t even bat an eye when you cried mid-dessert about how surreal it felt to be treated so kindly. nanami kento was a unicorn in human form. you left the date with a full heart and a nervous little hope tucked away in the corner of your mind.

but with that came distance. maybe you didn’t mean to pull back from the chaotic warmth of your hallway interactions with megumi and toji, but it happened all the same. when megumi called out a soft “hi” as you passed him by the mailboxes, you offered a quick smile but kept walking. the sink had been dripping for days, but instead of knocking on toji’s door, you’d booked a plumber. you weren’t doing anything wrong, you told yourself — they were just neighbors. neighbors.

not friends. not anything more than the people across the hall. right?

toji, though, noticed. the absence of your knock, the way megumi seemed a little more sullen, staring at the hall like he was waiting for someone. “you think she’s mad at us?” megumi asked one evening, poking at his rice.

toji’s response was a noncommittal grunt, but the truth was, he didn’t know. for some stupid reason, the distance stung. not that he’d ever admit it. not that he had any right to care.

you were just neighbors, after all.

when your girl came bounding through the door, her face glowing from the trip, the first thing she asked wasn’t about you or the gifts she’d brought back. no, it was, “how’s gumi? how’s uncle toji?”

the question hit harder than it should’ve. you realized with a pang of guilt how much distance you’d put between yourself and the fushiguros. brushing it off with a casual, “they’re fine,” didn’t sit well either. so, when your daughter insisted on running over to their apartment to see megumi, you didn’t stop her.

watching her skip down the hall, you thought it’d all smooth over naturally. kids were resilient like that, weren’t they? but then she came back. and she was crying.

between her sobs and hiccups, you managed to piece together the story. megumi, sweet, awkward megumi, had exploded in a torrent of childish frustration. how your daughter hadn’t been around. how you hadn’t been around. how he thought you both didn’t care anymore.

you felt your heart shatter as your girl bawled into your arms, her small hands clutching at your shirt. “why’s he mad at me, mama? i didn’t do anything!”

meanwhile, across the hall, megumi was in tears too, angrily wiping at his face as he sat cross-legged on the couch. “i hate her!” he shouted, voice wobbling. “she didn’t even say hi! she just left like everyone does!”

toji sat there, looking at his son, the beer he’d been nursing now warm and forgotten. the kid’s words were like a punch to the gut. he realized, with sinking clarity, that megumi wasn’t just upset with your daughter. the boy was lashing out because he felt abandoned.

when the knock came at the door, it was no surprise. you stood there, your girl clutching your hand, both of you looking just as frazzled as toji and megumi.

“we need to talk,” you said.

“yeah,” toji muttered, stepping aside to let you in.

the conversation wasn’t easy, with both kids sniffling, glaring at each other, and clutching onto their respective parents like lifelines. but as you and toji sat there, stumbling through apologies and promises to do better, you realized how much you’d hurt them by pulling away.

“friends don’t do this,” your girl said, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

“yeah,” megumi added, glaring at his lap. “friends don’t just leave.”

and in that moment, you and toji exchanged a look. it was one of understanding, of shared guilt and resolution. you weren’t just neighbors anymore, were you? whether you liked it or not, you’d become something more — something messier, but ultimately worth fighting for.

the fight left behind a new set of rules — some spoken, others understood. your daughter would spend one hour with megumi every weekend, no negotiations. an additional hour was set aside for assisted ballet practice, with megumi reluctantly twirling around like an uncoordinated giraffe under her direction. and then, as if her creative pursuits weren’t already ambitious, she insisted on an hour of practicing makeup.

on a very, very unwilling toji.

the first time she smeared blush across his cheekbones, a bright pink mess, toji grumbled the entire time. “this is ridiculous. i look like a clown.”

“no, you don’t,” your girl countered with all the confidence in the world. “you look beauuuutiful.”

megumi snickered behind her, holding up a hand mirror so his dad could see the finished product. toji groaned, but the corners of his mouth betrayed him with the faintest twitch of amusement.

you leaned against the doorway, watching the scene unfold. the shared giggles, the clumsy but earnest teamwork — it was loud, chaotic, and beautiful in its own way. this was right. this was what you hadn’t even realized you were missing.

and kento? well, the date you thought could be something turned into a friendship you didn’t know you needed. he became a quiet presence, someone who checked in, who made you laugh when work got overwhelming, and who offered sage advice about life when you needed it most.

“you’re doing great,” he told you once over coffee, his calm reassurance soothing the doubts that often crept in.

between the budding chaos in your hallway ballet classes, the makeup artistry sessions that somehow always ended with toji pouting in pink lipstick, and the quiet stability kento offered, you realized that life had settled into something messy, imperfect, but undeniably nice.

maybe it wasn’t what you’d planned. maybe it wasn’t ideal. but as your daughter twirled around the room, megumi trailing after her with hesitant steps, and toji scowled half-heartedly at his reflection, you couldn’t imagine wanting anything else.

exam season brought chaos, but not the kind you'd expected. with your daughter spending extra time at her dad's house to focus on studying, the silence in your apartment felt foreign. that is, until megumi started showing up more often, knocking on your door with his usual grumbles.

"why isn't the test about superheroes or football?" he'd complain, dragging his workbook into your living room as though it carried the weight of the world.

you’d chuckle softly, pulling up a chair next to him. “if multiplication was about superheroes, what would the question even look like?”

megumi furrowed his brow, considering. “uh... like, if spider-man saved five people every day for a week, how many people would he save?”

you smiled, leaning in. “exactly. now, how would you solve that?”

somehow, tailoring the lessons to his interests worked wonders. before long, megumi wasn’t just tolerating study time — he was coming over more and more, plopping onto your couch like he lived there.

toji, on the other hand, didn’t know what to make of it. sure, he appreciated that you were helping the kid, but every time he walked past your door and heard megumi's laughter ringing out, he felt... off.

he chalked it up to jealousy at first. not the bitter kind, but the kind that made him wonder why megumi could so easily open up to you, share his frustrations and laugh like the world wasn’t on his tiny shoulders.

then there was the other feeling, the one he buried as quickly as it surfaced. it was... comfort. relief, even. seeing megumi so at ease with you, so happy, made something in his chest tighten.

it didn’t help that when megumi came home, he’d mention you in passing, the smallest smile tugging at his lips. “she said i’d ace the test if i think about it like superheroes. she’s kinda cool.”

toji would grunt, pretending not to care. “yeah, well, don’t get too comfortable over there.”

but the truth was, toji couldn’t decide if he envied you for being able to connect with his son so easily or if he was just... glad. glad that someone like you existed in megumi’s world.

he wouldn’t admit it, though. not even to himself. instead, he shut the feelings down, brushing them off like they were nothing. because, after all, you were just the neighbor who helped out when needed.

right?

toji had every intention of marching into your apartment to retrieve megumi with a grumble about bedtime. the kid was always strict about his sleep schedule — how the hell had he fallen asleep at your place?

but when he stepped inside, the sight stopped him dead in his tracks.

there you were, sprawled on the couch with megumi curled up next to you, both of you out cold. the TV flickered softly, playing megumi’s favorite superhero show. the coffee table was a chaotic mess of open textbooks, scattered pencils, and hastily scribbled notes.

toji stood there for a moment, unsure what to do with the weird tug in his chest. the scene was... domestic.

painfully so.

megumi’s head was resting on your shoulder, your hand loosely draped over his back like you’d done this a thousand times before. the way you were both nestled together was too natural for something that should’ve felt foreign. it made something warm and uncomfortable rise in toji’s chest, a feeling he wasn’t ready to name.

he took a step closer, leaning against the doorframe. his frown deepened, not out of anger but out of frustration — mostly at himself.

this wasn’t anything, right? this was just you being nice to his kid. helping him out with schoolwork and keeping him company because you were a good person.

but then why did his heart feel like it was trying to beat its way out of his chest? why did seeing you with megumi like that make his throat tighten?

toji ran a hand through his hair, sighing quietly.

“dammit,” he muttered under his breath.

he knew he should’ve woken the both of you up, taken megumi home, and gone about his night like this didn’t mean anything. but instead, he found himself lingering, watching the two of you for a moment longer.

did neighbors really do this? take care of someone else’s kid like they were their own?

and did neighbors treat each other with such quiet, subtle affection? the kind that slipped into actions rather than words — the casseroles when someone was too tired to cook, the soft smiles exchanged in passing, the way you’d text him about the latest sale on megumi’s favorite snacks?

toji shook his head, trying to shove the thought away. god forbid, he might actually like you.

it was supposed to be a normal monday morning. drop your girl off at her ballet studio, exchange a quick goodbye, and then head to work like it wasn’t eating you alive that she was growing up too fast.

but then toji came out, coffee in one hand and his other scratching the back of his neck as he leaned against the doorframe, clearly still waking up. “hey, kid,” he called to your daughter, motioning her over with a lazy wave.

what happened next made you freeze mid-turn, your keys jangling awkwardly in your hand.

toji knelt to her level, his gruff voice taking on an edge of sincerity. “listen up, girlie. when you’re up there, you give ‘em hell, alright? don’t let anyone tell you you’re not good enough. and don’t worry about messin’ up — just keep goin’ like it never happened.”

your daughter nodded with wide eyes, hanging on to every word, her little face lit with admiration.

and god, he was trying so hard to keep it clean. but every so often, a “shit” or “hell yeah” would slip out, sending her into a fit of giggles. she tried so hard to be serious, biting her lip to stifle her laughter, but the sheer ridiculousness of him attempting to be PG while still being him was too much for a nine-year-old.

megumi, standing nearby with his arms crossed, was clearly torn. his little scowl was stuck somewhere between annoyance at your daughter for monopolizing his dad’s attention and longing to be spoken to like that himself.

and your daughter? she latched onto toji like he was some kind of life coach, her arms around his neck, thanking him in that sweet, sing-song voice she always used when she was truly happy.

your fingers tightened around your keys as your chest did a stupid thing.

because here was toji, your grumpy neighbor who could barely keep it together when megumi so much as sneezed during homework time, and yet here he was giving your girl the kind of pep talk that should’ve come from her own dad.

and worse? she listened. eagerly.

you fidgeted with your keys like that’d distract you from the warmth creeping into your chest, from the realization that maybe, just maybe, this tough, foul-mouthed, perpetually tired man wasn’t just good with kids. he was good for you. god forbid, you might actually be falling for toji fushiguro.

it wasn’t your finest moment — double-booking a work meeting during your daughter's pickup. you were already spiraling into guilt, pacing the room while trying to find a way to make it work, when toji grumbled his way into volunteering.

“don’t make a big deal outta it,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “she’s comin’ over for megumi anyway. might as well save you the trouble.”

you barely had time to thank him before he was out the door, keys jingling in his hand.

but what toji walked into at your ex’s house was far from what he expected.

your ex was already on some power trip, standing in the doorway like he owned the world. the smugness on his face was palpable, and it only got worse when he saw toji, a man who didn’t give a damn about puffed-up egos.

“oh, so you’re her chauffeur now?” your ex sneered, leaning lazily against the doorframe.

toji ignored him at first, his sharp eyes scanning past him to find your babygirl. she was standing behind her dad, clutching her little backpack like it was a shield, her lips trembling as she peeked at toji with wide eyes.

“c’mon, kid,” toji said, his voice softer than you’d expect from a man like him. he extended a hand, but your ex stepped in the way.

“you got a lotta nerve coming here,” your ex spat, crossing his arms. “what, you think playing house makes you her dad?”

toji’s eyes darkened, his jaw tightening as he took a deliberate step forward. “nah,” he said coolly, his voice dripping with menace. “but i’m a helluva lot better at it than you.”

that set your ex off, his voice rising with insults and accusations, not even caring that his daughter was right there, watching the whole thing unfold.

and toji? he had it. his patience snapped like a brittle twig.

“y’know what’s funny?” toji growled, stepping so close your ex had to tilt his head back to meet his glare. “you’re standin’ here flappin’ your gums about bein’ her dad, but you’re too busy bein’ a selfish prick to realize what you’re doin’ to her.”

before your ex could stammer out another insult, toji hoisted your girl into one of his arms like she weighed nothing, shielding her with his broad shoulders as he glared down at your ex.

“don’t bother callin’. she’s got enough on her plate without dealin’ with your crap,” he bit out before turning on his heel and walking away, your girl clutching his shirt like it was her lifeline.

the ride back was quiet, your girl’s sniffles filling the air as toji’s hand rested protectively on the wheel. he didn’t say much — just an occasional grunt to reassure her. when they arrived, he handed her off to you without a word, but the fire in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

and you? you were floored. because for all of toji’s grumbling and rough edges, he wasn’t just stepping up when you couldn’t — he was fighting for your girl like she was his own.

evening walks were supposed to be your moment of calm, a chance to clear your head after a long day. but calm went out the window the moment you saw megumi in the park, his usual quiet confidence missing as a group of older kids cornered him.

his small frame was tense, shoulders squared, but you could see the way his hands trembled as he balled them into fists at his sides. it wasn’t like megumi to let himself be pushed around, but whatever the bullies were saying had struck a nerve.

you didn’t even have to get close to catch the cruel words that slipped out of their mouths.

“no wonder your mom didn’t stick around.”

“bet she took one look at you and ran.”

“you’re just some charity case with a deadbeat dad.”

your heart twisted at the look on megumi’s face — his jaw clenched, eyes glassy with tears he refused to let fall. you weren’t his mom, but you felt the instinctive flare of protectiveness that made you forget every rule of decorum.

marching over, you didn’t bark at the kids or shoo them off like some passerby might. no, you planted yourself right beside megumi, crossing your arms with a look so sharp it could cut steel.

“is there a problem here?” you asked, voice calm but carrying a weight that made the kids shrink back.

they glanced between each other, suddenly unsure. “we were just talking —”

“talking?” you cut in, your tone sharp enough to make them flinch. “sounds to me like you’re all just jealous.”

the kids froze, confusion written all over their faces. “jealous of what?” one of them finally asked, voice cracking slightly.

you placed a hand on megumi’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “jealous that you’ll never have the heart or the strength this kid has. it’s easy to gang up on someone when you’ve got a pack behind you. try standing on your own for once. but then again, maybe that’s asking too much.”

megumi didn’t say a word, but you felt him lean into your touch, his small hand brushing against yours as if testing its solidity.

the bullies sputtered, trying to save face, but one by one, they slunk away, muttering excuses as they disappeared into the distance.

the moment they were gone, megumi’s tough facade crumbled. his shoulders sagged, his head dropping as the tears he had been holding back finally spilled over.

you crouched down to his level, wrapping your arms around him as much as his wiry frame would allow. “it’s okay, sweetheart,” you murmured, brushing a hand through his unruly hair. “you’re okay now.”

and just like that, this tough, guarded nine-year-old melted into your embrace, his small sobs muffled against your shoulder.

you stayed there, holding him as the evening light faded, your heart breaking and swelling all at once. you weren’t his mom, but in that moment, you might as well have been.

toji wasn’t the type to lose his composure, not even when megumi brought home bruised knees or a bad grade. he was a man of steady hands and a guarded heart, but tonight? tonight was different.

he was sitting on the couch, beer in hand, when megumi hesitated in front of him, nervously fiddling with his sleeve. “dad, something happened today,” he mumbled, voice low.

toji raised an eyebrow, setting his drink on the table. “what kind of something?”

and then megumi started talking — about the bullies, about their cruel words, and then about you stepping in. how you stood there, firm and unyielding, pretending to be his mom without hesitation. megumi’s voice cracked when he got to the part where he cried in your arms, and toji swore he felt something shatter in him.

he didn’t know if it was anger, gratitude, or guilt — maybe all three twisting together into a storm that made his chest ache.

"you didn’t say anything stupid to her, did you?" toji asked, his voice rougher than he intended.

megumi shook his head quickly. "no, but... she was really nice. it felt... it felt okay."

toji sighed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back into the couch. he should’ve been mad. should’ve been upset at megumi for dragging you into their lives like that, but instead, all he could think about was the way his chest tightened at the thought of you.

he needed to see you. not because he owed you, not because of some sense of duty, but because the idea of you stepping up for his kid like that made him feel something he hadn’t let himself feel in years.

he stood abruptly, grabbing his coat. megumi looked up at him, startled. “where are you going?”

toji paused for a moment. “i’ll be back. don’t stay up too late.”

megumi didn’t ask questions, just nodded and watched his dad leave the apartment.

when toji knocked on your door, he didn’t even know what he was going to say. a simple “thank you” didn’t feel like enough, but what else could he offer? the way his hands flexed at his sides and the way his heart pounded in his chest betrayed the calm exterior he was trying to maintain.

when you opened the door, he saw the surprise flash in your eyes. “toji?”

he rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost sheepish — a sight you never thought you’d see. “can i come in?”

and that’s when you felt it too — something bubbling between you both, something that had been building for a while, but neither of you had been ready to face. until now.

toji stood there, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his eyes flicking between you and the floor like the words he was searching for might be scrawled on the ground. he wasn’t the kind of man who talked about his feelings, let alone spilled them out like this.

but he had to say something.

“look,” he started, voice low and gruff, “i’m not great with... this kind of thing.”

you tilted your head, waiting patiently, and that just made it harder for him.

he huffed out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “megumi told me what happened today. how you... stepped in. and, uh —” he paused, almost wincing at how clumsy his words sounded, “ — just... thanks. for being there. for him.”

you smiled softly, opening your mouth to respond, but he held up a hand, cutting you off. “no, wait. i’m not done.”

he shifted, clearly uncomfortable but pushing through it anyway. “it’s not just today. it’s all of it. you’ve done more for that kid than most people ever have. hell, more than i probably have, and i’m his dad.” his laugh was bitter, self-deprecating. “you didn’t have to, but you did. and i —” he faltered, swallowing hard.

you could see it then, all of it — the gratitude, the guilt, the admiration, the something more he was too scared to name. it was all there, plain as day in the way he looked at you.

he sighed, shoulders slumping as if the weight of his words had exhausted him. “just... thanks. for him. for me. for... everything.”

and maybe you didn’t need to say anything. because as clumsy and awkward as his words were, you understood. you really did.

so you stepped forward, just close enough that he couldn’t avoid meeting your eyes anymore, and gave him a small, understanding smile. “you don’t need to thank me, toji. i care about him. about you both.”

something flickered in his expression — relief, maybe, or something even deeper. he nodded, just once, and it felt like enough. no confessions, no big speeches.

just this.

something had changed, though neither of you dared to put it into words. it was in the little things, the quiet moments that made your lives blur together in ways that felt natural, almost inevitable.

like how megumi, who usually kept his friends at arm’s length, started demanding your baby girl's presence at every outing, loudly justifying it as “she’ll get bored otherwise,” when really, he just liked having her around. and during those movie nights, when the kids were too engrossed in the screen, you and toji sat closer than necessary, your fingers brushing as you both reached for the popcorn. neither of you pulled away.

it was in how you became megumi’s loudest cheerleader at his little league matches, rivaling even toji’s booming encouragement. and the way he’d grin at you like you were the reason he hit that home run, his awkwardly mumbled, “did you see that?” enough to warm your heart.

toji wasn’t any different. no matter how busy he was, he showed up to every single one of your baby girl's ballet recitals, clapping so obnoxiously loud at the end that even the other parents gave him side-eyes. and after each recital, he’d crouch down, looking absurdly out of place with his towering frame, to tell her exactly how amazing she was — always with a teasing grin and a “guess megumi’ll have to step it up to keep up with you, huh?”

and then there were the practices. toji, of all people, trying to mimic ballet moves while your daughter giggled at how his long legs never quite landed in the right positions. megumi tried to feign disinterest but ended up joining too, his face as serious as ever as he attempted a plié.

you’d think the makeup thing would’ve been too much for him, but no. those butterfly-drawn cheeks and glittery nails stayed with toji for hours after your daughter left, and he never wiped them off — not until bedtime. megumi pretended not to notice, but you’d catch him smirking when toji forgot to scrub off a particularly bright streak of pink before heading out.

it all felt so... domestic. so easy. yet, neither of you dared to name it.

because neighbors helped neighbors, right? neighbors went to movies together. neighbors cheered for each other’s kids. neighbors shared popcorn and let their walls crumble, piece by piece.

this was okay. just neighbors looking out for each other. nothing more.

...right?

until it wasn’t.

you barely managed to get out of the cab, your heels clicking against the pavement, your dress clinging uncomfortably after hours of fake smiles and firm handshakes. all you could think about was peeling everything off, crashing into bed, and hoping the world would let you sleep in for once.

but then you saw him — toji, leaning against your apartment door, his broad frame tense, his head snapping up the moment he heard your footsteps.

"where the hell were you?" his voice was rough, low, but not angry. it was something else.

you froze, your bag slipping off your shoulder. “what are you doing here?”

his eyes, bloodshot and desperate, locked onto yours, scanning every inch of you like he was checking for injuries. “it’s one a.m., on a thursday,” he said, his voice cracking slightly on the last word. “your lights were off. you weren’t answering your phone.”

it hit you then — he’d been worried. toji fushiguro, the man who grumbled more than he talked, who deflected every feeling with a snarky comment, was pacing the hallway outside your apartment because he thought something had happened to you.

“i had a business meeting,” you said, the exhaustion seeping into your voice. “it ran late.”

but your explanation didn’t seem to matter. he took a step closer, his shoulders sagging in relief but still stiff with whatever storm had been brewing inside him.

“you could’ve told me,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “what if something happened? what if —”

“toji.” your voice was soft, cutting through his spiraling thoughts.

he stopped, his hand dropping to his side as he looked at you, his expression raw and unguarded. he wasn’t just worried. he was terrified. terrified that whatever this strange, fragile thing between you might be, it could slip away in an instant.

and before either of you could think better of it, you closed the distance. your arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him into a hug that felt as natural as breathing.

he stiffened at first, his body caught off guard, but then his arms came up around you, pulling you closer with a quiet exhale that sounded like he’d been holding it in all night.

neither of you said a word. you didn’t need to. whatever this was — this thing that had been building between you — it was no longer just neighbors helping neighbors.

it was so much more.

sure, the hug wasn’t something life-changing, but it definitely shifted something, like a tiny crack in the wall that neither of you were ready to knock down completely. there was this... tension now. not bad, not awkward, just there. like some invisible thread pulling you two closer, though never quite crossing a line — both of you too cautious, too unsure, to see what might happen if you did.

and damn those kids. they picked up on it almost immediately, their sharp little eyes catching every glance that lingered too long or every time toji grumbled just a little less around you.

megumi, of course, was the worst of the two, his quiet observations turning into pointed stares and a knowing smirk that made you want to sink into the floor.

“so,” he started one evening as he watched you and toji navigate an unspoken argument over whether you’d be the one to drive the kids to practice. “are you gonna be my dad’s special lady friend now or what?”

you nearly choked on air, and toji’s head snapped around so fast you were sure he’d pull a muscle.

“megumi,” toji growled, the warning clear in his voice.

megumi just shrugged, completely unbothered. “what? i like her. she’s nice. and you’re less grumpy when she’s around. that’s what matters, right?”

toji pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath about smartass kids. but there was a faint flush on his face, one that made you glance away quickly before your own cheeks betrayed you.

megumi’s logic was simple, blunt, and so very megumi. but it stuck with you more than you wanted to admit. if he was okay with whatever this was between you and his dad, maybe... just maybe, that was enough.

you sat cross-legged on the couch, sorting through some old receipts and papers, while your babygirl sprawled on the floor with her coloring book. the soft scratch of her crayons filled the room, a soothing sound that made the evening feel warm and easy.

“mom?” she asked, her voice cutting through the quiet.

you glanced up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “yeah, baby?”

she didn’t look up from her coloring, her little fingers gripping the green crayon a bit too tightly as she focused on staying inside the lines. “i like him.”

you blinked, confused at first. “like who, sweetie?”

she paused, tilting her head as if the answer was obvious. “uncle jiji.”

the crayon stilled in her hand, and she finally looked up at you, her eyes wide and sincere. your breath hitched, a small wave of surprise washing over you.

“oh?” you tried to keep your tone light, your fingers fiddling with the papers in your lap. “why’s that?”

“he’s funny,” she said matter-of-factly, returning to her coloring. “and he’s nice. he always listens to megumi, even when megumi’s being bossy. and he told me i’m the best ballerina ever — even better than on tv!”

you couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. of course, toji had said that.

“he’s just really cool,” she added, as if that sealed the deal.

you set the papers down, your chest tightening in a way that felt both overwhelming and oddly comforting. her words felt like a weight being lifted off your shoulders, one you hadn’t even realized you were carrying.

“you really like him, huh?” you asked softly.

she nodded vigorously, her pigtails bouncing with the motion. “yeah. and megumi’s cool too. he always shares his toys, even his superheroes. i think he’s my best friend.”

the corners of your mouth tugged upward as you leaned back against the couch. “well, i’m glad you think so, baby.”

“do you like him?” she asked suddenly, her eyes locking onto yours, filled with that unnerving, sharp perception only kids seemed to have.

your cheeks warmed, and you glanced down at the papers in your lap, pretending to shuffle them aimlessly. “well… yeah, i think he’s nice too.”

she studied you for a moment before shrugging and returning to her coloring. “good. because you’re happy when you talk to him. and he looks at you like daddy never does.”

your breath caught. her words were simple, innocent even, but they struck something deep. you reached out, smoothing a hand over her hair.

“you’re pretty wise for someone not even ten yet, you know that?” you murmured.

she giggled, leaning into your touch. “i know.”

as she went back to her coloring, you leaned back into the couch, letting the relief settle in. maybe she was right. maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. maybe… it was something good. something you both deserved.

toji sat on the worn couch in his living room, staring blankly at the muted television. the house was quiet, save for the occasional shuffle from megumi’s room. it should’ve been peaceful, but instead, it felt like the silence was screaming at him, pressing all those thoughts he’d been trying to ignore right to the surface.

what the hell was this?

he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, rubbing a hand down his face as he let out a low sigh. you were in his house so often now that it was hard to tell where the line was anymore. your girl's kid-sized ballet slippers were right by the door next to megumi’s sneakers. a casserole dish you’d returned sat drying on the counter. you had this way of slotting into his life that felt so natural it scared him.

did he want to address it? maybe.

maybe not.

you were busy as hell — a working mom with your own kid to think about. toji wasn’t stupid. he knew what he came with. a nine-year-old son, a messy history, and enough emotional baggage to sink a ship. did he really want to drag you into all that?

but then there were moments, like tonight, when the kids had dragged you into some elaborate roleplay involving superheroes and ballerinas. you’d sat cross-legged on the floor, a makeshift cape tied around your shoulders, pretending to be "supermom," and he hadn’t been able to look away.

when you’d caught him staring, you’d just laughed, “what? do i have pizza sauce on my face or something?”

he’d grunted something noncommittal, shaking his head, but his chest had felt tight in a way he couldn’t explain.

and now, here he was, thinking about it again.

his thoughts were interrupted by the soft click of the front door opening. you peeked your head in, a sheepish smile on your face. “hey. sorry, megs forgot his backpack at my place. figured i’d drop it off before i forgot, too.”

he stood, shoving his hands in his pockets as you walked in, setting the backpack down by the door. you were still in your work clothes, your shoulders looking a little more tired than usual.

“you could’ve waited till tomorrow,” he muttered, his voice low but not unkind.

“it’s no big deal,” you replied, brushing him off.

he watched as you straightened, lingering in the doorway, and something about the way you hesitated made him speak. “you eaten yet?”

you blinked, clearly surprised by the question. “uh, no, actually.”

he motioned toward the kitchen. “there’s leftovers. you want some?”

your smile softened as you stepped closer. “sure. thanks, toji.”

as you walked past him, his hand twitched at his side, like it wanted to reach out but didn’t know how.

in the kitchen, you moved around like you belonged there, grabbing a plate and heating up the food. he leaned against the counter, watching you in silence, and for the first time, he let himself think about what it would mean to let this thing between you be more than unspoken.

“hey,” he said after a moment, his voice rougher than he intended.

you glanced at him over your shoulder. “yeah?”

he opened his mouth, then closed it, the words catching in his throat. instead, he just muttered, “nothing. never mind.”

you tilted your head, studying him for a second, before giving a small nod. “okay.”

but there was something in your eyes, like you knew what he wasn’t saying, and it made his chest ache.

he wasn’t sure if addressing whatever the hell this was would change anything, but seeing the way you fit into his life — into megumi’s life — made the idea of trying feel a little less terrifying.

it wasn’t like you and toji had made any grand declarations. it was all small things, gestures that felt normal but carried an undercurrent of something deeper. grocery runs were the easiest excuse. you’d bump into him on your way home, still in your blazer and heels, and he’d grumble about needing to pick up some snacks for megumi. before you knew it, you’d both be walking side by side, bickering over the best brand of chips.

“you’re seriously buying that brand?” you teased, holding up a bag of chips that toji had tossed into the cart.

“megumi likes ‘em,” he retorted, leaning on the cart with that stupidly casual confidence that annoyed you just enough to make your heart flutter. “and besides, it’s not like your kid’s picky when she raids our pantry.”

you rolled your eyes but smiled all the same, because he wasn’t wrong.

then there were the little fixes around your apartment that seemed to magically get done whenever toji was around. your leaky faucet, the busted door hinge, your temperamental car — he waved off every attempt you made to pay him. “mechanic perks,” he’d say with a shrug, wiping his hands on a rag and giving you a smirk that made you want to both thank him and punch him.

and those car rides? the ones where the kids didn’t even need to be there? yeah, those were starting to feel more like a habit. you’d offer to drop toji off after picking megumi up from practice, and somehow, the drive would extend into picking up your girl from ballet class.

“they gotta meet anyway,” toji would say, his tone so nonchalant it was almost believable. but the way his eyes softened when your babygirl came running out, arms wide open for both of you? that was something he couldn’t fake.

then there was the day your ex finally had enough of whatever this was. the two of you had shown up together, a united front, to pick up your daughter from his place. she’d lit up like a firework when she saw you and toji standing side by side, and you couldn’t help but revel in the sight of her running straight into toji’s waiting arms before hugging you just as tightly.

“this is the guy you’ve been parading around with?” your ex sneered, his voice dripping with disdain as he leaned against the doorframe. “what, you think a deadbeat like him is an upgrade?”

toji’s posture stiffened, his grip on your daughter tightening just slightly as she clung to his neck. you opened your mouth to retort, but toji beat you to it, his voice calm but laced with steel.

“funny coming from you,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he stared your ex down. “least i actually show up for her.”

your ex faltered, his face contorting in anger, but he didn’t have a comeback. you didn’t stick around long enough for him to try.

as you buckled your daughter into the car, her voice piped up, innocent and bright. “jiji, are you coming over for dinner?”

toji glanced at you, and for a moment, something passed between you. a silent understanding, an acknowledgment of whatever the hell this was.

“yeah, kid,” he said, ruffling her hair with a small grin. “i’m coming over.”

and for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like you were walking this road alone.

the house was warm with the kind of peace that only came after a long, chaotic day. your babygirl and megumi were a tangled heap on the couch, her tiny head resting on his shoulder while he leaned back with his mouth slightly open, fast asleep. the tv played muted scenes of superheroes saving the world, but the real action was in the kitchen, where you and toji stood shoulder to shoulder by the sink.

"you sure you’re not just washing that same plate for the third time?” you teased softly, nudging him with your elbow as he scrubbed with more focus than seemed necessary.

toji smirked but didn’t look up, his voice low and gravelly. “just making sure it’s clean. you don’t want megumi whining about leftover crumbs, trust me.”

you chuckled, rinsing another dish under the warm water, and for a moment, it was just the soft clink of plates, the jazz playing quietly from your speaker, and the faint sound of your daughter’s steady breathing in the living room.

but something was different tonight. the air felt heavier, charged, like it was holding its breath. you could feel it in the way toji’s arm brushed against yours as he passed a dish to you, in the way his fingers lingered a second too long when he handed you the towel.

“you really didn’t have to stay and help with this,” you said, glancing at him.

he shrugged, still not meeting your gaze. “figured i owed you. besides, you cooked. least i can do is clean up.”

his voice was quieter than usual, almost shy, and that wasn’t a word you’d ever thought you’d associate with toji fushiguro. it made something in your chest tighten.

you turned off the faucet, drying your hands as you looked over at him. he was still focused on the plate in his hands, but you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw was set like he was bracing himself.

“toji?”

he finally looked at you, and there it was — that softness in his eyes that he didn’t let show often. it made your breath catch, made the world feel like it had shrunk down to just the two of you standing in this little kitchen.

he set the plate down slowly, wiping his hands on a towel before turning to face you fully. for a moment, neither of you said anything. the jazz filled the silence, but the air between you was louder than words.

his hand came up hesitantly, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his calloused fingers grazing your cheek. “you’ve been good to him, y’know,” he murmured, his voice rough but soft in the way he said it. “to us.”

you didn’t know what to say to that. all you could do was nod, your throat tight as you looked up at him. his face was closer now, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips like he was searching for something — permission, maybe, or courage.

you didn’t even realize you’d moved until your hand rested lightly on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm.

and then it happened.

he leaned in, slowly, almost cautiously, and your eyes fluttered shut just as his lips brushed against yours. it was tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but when you didn’t pull away — when you leaned into him instead — it deepened.

toji kissed like he did everything else: fully, unapologetically, with an intensity that left you breathless. his hands found your waist, pulling you just a little closer, and you slid yours up to rest on his shoulders, feeling the strength there, the way he held you like you were something fragile and precious all at once.

the kiss wasn’t hurried or frantic; it was slow, deliberate, like he wanted to memorize every second of it. it was the kind of kiss that left your knees weak, your head spinning, and your heart pounding in your chest.

when you finally pulled back, both of you a little breathless, his forehead rested against yours.

“damn,” he muttered, his voice low and a little shaky.

you couldn’t help but laugh softly, your fingers still curled in the fabric of his shirt. “yeah,” you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper.

the moment stretched between you, warm and heavy and perfect. and for the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

megumi stirred awake first, his sharp eyes blinking groggily as he took in the scene. your baby girl was still curled up against him, her face smushed against his shoulder, and he wrinkled his nose, trying to shake her off gently without waking her. it was only when he looked over to the kitchen that he paused, his brain catching up with what he was seeing.

his dad. toji. standing ridiculously close to you by the sink, both of you talking in low voices like the world outside didn’t exist. toji’s hand brushed your arm lightly as he reached for a towel, and you laughed softly, a sound that felt too intimate for megumi to process this early in his half-asleep state.

“ugh, gross,” he mumbled under his breath, sitting up straighter and inadvertently jostling your babygirl awake.

she yawned, rubbing her eyes and giving him a confused look. “what’s gross?”

“nothing,” megumi said quickly, his face heating up as he avoided looking at her — or at the scene in the kitchen that was playing out like the ending of one of those superhero movies he loved but would never admit made him feel things.

by the time you and toji noticed the kids were awake, megumi had already schooled his expression into something neutral, though his sharp eyes flicked between the two of you as you made your way over.

“sorry for waking you up, sweetheart,” you said softly to your kid, crouching down to smooth her hair.

toji, ever the blunt one, crossed his arms and grunted, “time to get going, brats.”

megumi shot him a look, one that said you’re not fooling me, old man, but he didn’t say anything. instead, he stood up and stretched, deliberately not looking at how his dad’s gaze lingered on you for just a second too long.

at the door, the kids exchanged their goodbyes in their usual awkward but affectionate way — your baby girl giving megumi a quick hug that he tolerated with a huff.

toji ruffled megumi’s hair roughly, earning an annoyed grunt. “come on, kid. say thank you.”

megumi rolled his eyes but muttered a grudging, “thanks for dinner,” before looking up at you.

and then, because megumi was too perceptive for his own good, he added, “and for putting up with him.”

toji frowned, his brows knitting together. “watch it, smartass.”

but the way you laughed — soft and warm and filled with something megumi couldn’t quite name — made toji’s expression soften.

as you leaned down to hug your babygirl goodnight, megumi caught his dad watching you again, his face doing that weird thing it did when he was proud of a home run or secretly enjoying one of megumi’s superhero tangents.

“dad,” megumi said as they stepped into the hallway.

“what?” toji grunted, avoiding his son’s gaze.

megumi smirked, the kind that made him look way older than his nine years. “you’re doing that thing.”

toji frowned, feigning ignorance. “what thing?”

“you know. that thing my favorite superhero does when he saves his secret girlfriend,” megumi said with a dramatic air, glancing back at your door before looking at his dad again.

toji snorted, trying — and failing — not to look flustered. “quit it, kid.”

but megumi didn’t miss the way his dad’s lips twitched into the smallest of smiles. he knew exactly what was going on.

love? probably.

yeah, megumi was pretty sure his dad loved you.

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it was funny, really, how quickly time had flown. one moment, you were corralling a tutu-clad, glitter-faced babygirl to ballet class, and the next, you were breaking up arguments between her and megumi over whose superhero knowledge was superior.

"they’re literally fake, megumi!" she'd shriek.

"so are ballerinas in space!" he’d yell back.

and there you and toji would be, slumped at the dining table, each nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee as you exchanged weary, knowing looks.

“how do ten-year-olds even have this much energy?” you’d mutter, pressing your fingertips into your temples.

toji, half-laughing, half-grumbling, would reply, “they don’t. they’re siphoning it off us.”

it had been a year and a half of this — this weird, beautiful, chaotic thing you’d built. the kids, their shared antics, and the way they declared every single dinner a sleepover had woven your lives together so seamlessly that it felt like you’d never been apart in the first place.

but the truth? the sleepover excuse wasn’t just for the kids anymore. you and toji had grown so comfortable in this rhythm, this routine, that it felt like breathing. and yet, there was still this unspoken thing between you, hanging in the air like a question neither of you wanted to ask.

it was easy to ignore, easier still to pretend that this was just how things were. you’d watch as toji threw his head back in laughter at one of megumi’s sarcastic comments, his broad shoulders shaking, or when he’d lean in to help your girl tie her ballet shoes — his fingers oddly gentle for someone so rough around the edges. those moments made your heart ache in ways you didn’t want to name.

and then there was the way he looked at you when the kids weren’t paying attention. like when megumi would drag your babygirl out into the yard to “train” her in superhero moves, and you’d catch toji’s eyes lingering on you just a second too long.

“what?” you’d ask, your voice quieter than you intended.

“nothin’,” he’d say, but the way his lips twitched into a small smile betrayed him.

but you knew it wasn’t nothing. it hadn’t been nothing for a while now. and maybe it was time to stop pretending.

your ex hadn’t made it easy, of course. every time he paraded some new flavor of the month in front of your girl, you’d see the disappointment in her eyes, and it made your chest tighten. but then there’d be toji — steady, dependable, his quiet reassurances and the way he always managed to make her smile again.

“he’s better than dad,” she’d told you once, out of the blue, her voice small but firm.

and maybe that was the final nudge you needed.

the night felt heavier than usual, the quiet hum of the dishwasher and the occasional creak of the floorboards the only sounds accompanying you as you stood side by side in the kitchen. toji rinsed the last plate, handing it to you with a quick glance that lingered a little too long.

“they’re getting wilder,” he muttered, nodding toward the living room where your girl and megumi were sprawled on the sofa, limbs tangled as if they'd fought sleep until it finally won.

you chuckled softly, drying the plate and setting it aside. “they’re ten. this is the warm-up for what’s coming in a few years.”

he let out a low groan, running a hand through his hair. “don’t remind me. thought i’d have more time before the hormones kicked in.”

you smirked, leaning against the counter as he dried his hands on a dishtowel. it was domestic in a way that felt almost too intimate, like crossing an invisible line. and yet, neither of you had stepped back.

“toji,” you said, your voice breaking the comfortable silence.

he looked up, the weight in your tone pulling his full attention. “yeah?”

you hesitated, biting your lip as you fidgeted with the edge of the dish towel. how do you even start this? you thought about the past year and a half, the shared laughter, the quiet moments, the way his presence had become a constant in your life. the way your girl lit up when he was around. the way you lit up.

“this,” you finally said, gesturing between the two of you, your words coming out softer than you intended. “whatever this is... do you think we should talk about it?”

his brow furrowed slightly, and for a moment, your heart sank. but then he nodded, setting the towel down on the counter.

“i’ve been thinkin’ about it,” he admitted, his voice low.

“and?” you prompted, your heart pounding in your chest.

he sighed, leaning against the counter beside you, his gaze fixed on the floor. “look, i’m not great at this kinda thing,” he began, his fingers tapping absently against the edge of the counter. “but... you’ve been good for me. for megumi. hell, for both of us.”

your breath caught, and you turned to face him fully. “toji...”

he held up a hand, cutting you off gently. “lemme finish,” he said, his voice a little rough. he looked at you then, really looked at you, his eyes searching yours like he was trying to figure out how to say something he’d been holding onto for too long.

“i didn’t think this was gonna happen,” he said finally. “not for me. not again.” he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “but you... you made it so easy. like it’s not somethin’ to be scared of. like it’s just... there. y’know?”

you nodded, your throat tight as you listened.

“and it’s not just about me,” he continued, his voice softening. “it’s about them. megumi... he’s happier than i’ve seen him in years. and your girl? she’s somethin’ special, and the way you’ve raised her... damn.” he shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “you’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

you felt your cheeks heat, and you looked down, trying to compose yourself.

“so yeah,” he said, his voice steady now. “i don’t know what this is, but if you’re askin’ me if i want more of it... then yeah. i do.”

your breath hitched, and when you looked up, the sincerity in his eyes made your chest tighten.

“toji,” you said again, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’ve wanted to say something for a while now, but I didn’t know how. you’ve been... everything we didn’t know we needed. me and my girl. you’ve been there in ways no one else ever has, and it’s just... it’s so easy with you. i want this too.”

his lips curved into a small, relieved smile, and for a moment, the weight of the unspoken words between you lifted.

“yeah?” he asked softly, his voice almost teasing.

you smiled back, nodding. “yeah.”

and then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he reached out and pulled you into a hug. it wasn’t rushed or desperate — it was steady, grounding, the kind of hug that felt like coming home. and when he whispered, “i’m all in if you are,” into your hair, you felt the last of your hesitation melt away.

because with toji, love wasn’t just a possibility — it was a promise.

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another two years later, and the kids were twelve. twelve. a big deal, according to them. suddenly they were "basically teenagers," and with that came a whole new level of attitude and pride. and you and toji? you were more than grateful for the chaos. or, as he liked to tease, “engaged to it.” yeah, engaged. took the man long enough — three and a half, maybe four years — but who’s counting?

your kids, of course, had taken the news with the kind of casual confidence only twelve-year-olds could muster. “about time,” megumi had muttered, earning an elbow in the ribs from your girl, who’d just grinned and said, “told you he liked her.”

and publicly? they carried themselves with the kind of poise that made you and toji bite back laughter more than once. “yeah, that’s my dad,” your girl would say with a shrug as toji dropped her off at ballet, towering over all the other dads and somehow looking both intimidating and incredibly proud as she disappeared into the studio.

megumi was just as bad. “that’s my mom,” he’d say to anyone within earshot at his little league games, pointing you out as you cheered the loudest from the stands, sometimes alongside toji who couldn’t help but smirk at your enthusiasm. “and yeah, that’s my sister,” he’d add, nonchalantly, as if it wasn’t a big deal that they’d practically become inseparable siblings over the years.

of course, behind closed doors, they were just kids. kids who still watched superhero movies while pretending not to, kids who choreographed ballet routines to superhero soundtracks because cool kids don’t watch superhero movies.

and you? you were still on that hustle, balancing work, motherhood, and planning a wedding with the kind of grace that made toji shake his head in awe every time.

“how do you do it?” he’d asked one night, watching you juggle your laptop and the kids’ school schedules.

“coffee and pure spite,” you’d replied, smirking over the rim of your mug.

toji, though? he’d built something solid too. his mechanic shop was finally open, a dream he’d quietly nurtured for years. seeing him in his element, sleeves rolled up, hands covered in grease, and that signature smirk plastered across his face, was enough to make your heart skip a beat every damn time.

life wasn’t perfect — there were still late nights, homework battles, and the occasional tantrum — but it was good. no, scratch that. it was damn good.

331 notes · View notes

billthedrake · 3 days ago

Text

THANKSGIVING QUICKIE

It must have been a special occasion, because Cooper's parents let him sleep in. But it was Thanksgiving and the high school senior had turned in an incredible performance on the football field the evening before. He had come back home amped up on adrenaline and in no mood to go to bed at a reasonable time.

The jock stirred in bed now, his short sandy brown hair all mussed. It took a second to realize that a knock had roused him. The door opened, and his father peeked in.

"OK if I come in, buddy?" he asked.

The 18-year-old leaned up in bed, the covers slipping off his bare torso. He'd packed on muscle over the last couple of years, a lot lately. His dad had encouraged his gym and diet obsessions, maybe but it was kind of Cooper's thing. That need for perfection and athletic excellence.

"Um yeah," he answered with a soft croak.

Brian Murray slipped in and quietly shut the door behind him. That's how Cooper's still groggy brain knew what was on his father's mind. Indeed, as the 48 year old stepped in, there was a noticeable boner in his sweatpants.

"Your mother's making the turkey," he said, with a conspiratorial smile. "I figure that buys us a little time."

This was a game Cooper and his dad were playing. More and more it seemed. Neither knew if the risk turned them on, or if it was just too hard to resist fooling around.

The teen nodded. "It's been a few days," he said. Seductively, he slipped the covers down to reveal his half naked body. Mostly smooth, though some soft hairs were growing in on his chest and down a treasure trail leading to this boxer briefs, which were tented with morning wood.

It was Brian's turn to feel his voice catch as he stepped up to the bed. "That's beautiful," he said softly, his finger tracing along Cooper's strong quad muscle with its short brown hairs. His eyes swept up his son's form, taking in the eight pack and the taut chest and shoulder muscle. "You're beautiful, Coop."

The athlete's eyes swept up his father's form. The old man was beautiful to Cooper too. Handsome. Masculine. Whatever the word was, Cooper felt his Dad would make fun of him for saying it. But Brian Murray was in his prime, the ex-jock build thicker and bulkier these days but kept in fine form with manual labor and devoted time at the gym.

With a naughty grin, Cooper lifted his hips and slid down his underwear. The shank of cock hadn't softened a bit since waking up and it practically jerked in excitement now, especially with his father's eyes on it.

Brian gave a soft horny grin as his fingers traced up Cooper's legs, admiring all that tight end muscle he'd practically memorized for his jerk off sessions. 6'5" and 230 pounds of hard muscle. A beast on the field, but at home Coop was something else... a sweet kid who'd grown in to a bonafide Daddy's boy. Brian didn't deserve a son like this. And yet...

The father looked over his shoulder and tugged down his lounge pants. The thick piece of paternal cock stood up, maybe not with the innate rigidity of an 18-year-old, but it sure felt that level of fuck hard.

"How much time we got, Dad?" came the footballer's voice, still sleepy.

Brian was getting full on horny now. Like, seeing white, crazy horny. "Just a few minutes," he replied. Jenn probably wouldn't have any reason to come up to Coop's room, but they were taking a risk already. "Why?"

Cooper took in the sight of his father's cock. It was a like a new toy, though even over the course of the last two months, the jock had become strangely familiar with the dick that had made him. Its size, its shape, its texture and its taste. He looked up into this father's hungry brown eyes. "It's just been a while since... you know?"

Brian smiled. He loved how shy the kid could get sometimes. Particularly after his son's sexual imagination was what had fueled a lot of their crazy affair. "Yeah buddy?" he growled.

Cooper nodded excitedly and spread his powerful legs. The hunky young stud lay back in his bed and pulled those thighs back, showing off his still mostly smooth crack to his dad.

"Fuuuccck..." Brian hissed, trying to keep his voice down. Already his hand was drawn down to that magic spot. Brian had been Coop Murray's first. The first few times had been a real challenge but now Cooper was a little more skilled at taking his Dad that way. The father tried to think with his head, rather than let his dick call the shots. "Maybe we can find some time tomorrow, OK, buddy?"

Coop nodded, but he knew his Dad wasn't taking the initiative to pull back from the soft gentle fingering of his vulnerable pucker. "Come on, Dad... it can be a quickie, right?" he pleaded, like he was asking to stay out past curfew. "You probably won't last long."

Brian chuckled. He had one persuasive kid, but Brian also had to laugh at how right his son was: Brian's normal sexual experience and composure went out the window once he was inside Cooper.

The man took a deep breath and pushed the thin flannel pants all the way down and stepped out of them.

Cooper was already reaching behind his bed, where he stashed the vaseline.

The mattress sagged from almost 500 pounds of male flesh as Brian climbed up onto the bed, hardon pointing up to the ceiling. Normally composed, the middle-aged man's body was shaking as he watched Cooper dig his long digits into the petroleum jelly and lovingly slather it onto his dad's cock. Just as methodically, Brian took the tub from his son's hand and dug in for the own daub of jelly to smear on Coop's tight ring.

Setting it aside, he scooted up and started working the slickness into his son's hole. Eyes locked on Cooper's he did his best to read the athlete's reaction.

"Feel good, Coop?" he asked quietly. This was a crazy risk but both men were turned on like mad.

Cooper nodded. "Yah." Then, "feels great, sir."

God, this kid... Brian pushed a second inside Cooper. "It's gonna sting going in," he cautioned. Giving Coop an out if he wanted it.

The jock was ready for this though. It had been a solid week since their last fuck. "I know, Dad." Then realizing he was speaking too loud, he lowered his voice too. "I like that part, too, actually."

"Goddamn," Brian hissed. He pulled his hand back and moved his hips into place. "I'm gonna have the worst case of empty nest syndrome next year, you know."

Cooper smiled. The separation was going to be hard on him, too. So he was determined to enjoy every minute now. He pulled his legs back tighter now as his dad placed a pillow under his hips to raise the ass just right. The sight was incredible. As much as Cooper loved seeing his dad naked, there was something equally hot about seeing the man in his holiday casual mode, bedhead and a well-worn Bama T-shirt clinging to all that middle-aged beef. Cooper knew the only minor disappointment he'd ever given his father was not signing to play Alabama football.

"Ooof," the jock let out despite himself. Maybe one of these days the penetration would go smoother. Maybe one of these days his dad would learn that an ass takes more patience than a pussy.

Brian looked down in excitement. "Told ya, Coop," he said in apology. "You good?"

"Yeah," the tight end answered as he forced his teeth to unclench.

"Sure?" the father asked, battling his urge to just plow in.

"Sure I'm sure, Dad," Cooper answered just above a whisper. "Fuck me."

If the entry was uncomfortable, the sensation of that that thick dad bone riding over Cooper's internal spot was pure pleasure. THIS is what had him finally losing interest in hetero stories and porn videos and focusing on men. As Brian Murray' dong pressed against his prostate, Cooper's own prick jolted and dripped above his eight pack.

"A quickie, remember, Dad," the jock urged his dad.

Brian's voice croaked. "Yeah." Then his hips powered forward. All the way in. Buried inside his own son, his own flesh and blood. The wrongness of the act had him coming back like a moth to flame, unable to gain any self control.

And beyond the mental pull of mating with Cooper, there was the sheer physical sensation of his son's ass, milking his cock with steady soft clenching around Brian. Each fuck was a give and take between his son pushing him out and sucking him in. Between Brian's restraint and his pure male need.

"Yeah, Dad..."

Brian looked down at Cooper. So innocent. And yet an active sex partner. Active in a way Jenn never was. The jock stud looked up with sheer need, that teen hardon a sign of just how much the kid frickin loved it. How much he needed his daddy.

The father's hips were moving faster now. The bed was squeaking, goddamnit, but it was too late to stop now. Not with his son looking and giving that nod, that silent permission to cum inside him. For an inexperienced young man, at least inexperienced in THIS, Cooper sure had developed a keen sense of timing. He knew when his dad was climbing to orgasm, not quite at the point of no return, but close to it. Just then, the jock wrapped his sticky slick palm around his shank of hard meat and began stroking in sync to his father's thrusts.

"Jesus!" Brian hissed. The way Coop's insides clenched and fluttered around that dad bone was just incredible. They'd never actually done this before, but the two Murray men were gonna cum at exactly the same moment.

The father made sure of that. He may have not been in full control, but he paused his sexual response just four seconds, and it was enough. He could feel his O face forming just as he watched Coop's.

The mutual orgasm was wordless but both men let out a simultaneous grunt. Brian's hips seized into a deep plow and unleashed a load that was bigger than it had any right to be given he'd just fucked his wife the night before. And who knows how often the kid jerked off, the teenager he was, but Brian's nostrils filled with that floral-musky scent of his boy's own cum as Cooper pumped out a healthy load onto his taut, muscled torso.

They stayed locked like this for just a couple of seconds, savoring the aftershocks of the orgasm that were part of the pleasure itself.

Finally, Brian's guilt kicked in and more than that his senses returned. They were crazy for doing this with his wife, Coop's mother, just downstairs. He gently withdrew and then quickly got off the bed, finding his lounge pants to slip back on.

"Get cleaned up," he said brusquely. "Then see if you can help your mother out with anything, OK?"

"Yeah, Dad," Cooper said in polite resignation. He didn't blame his father for acting like that. After all, it was the jock who pushed his dad past his comfort zone, A LOT. But after the hotness of the sex, Cooper felt the urge for a quiet emotional time with his dad.

Brian slipped out a quietly as he entered. He was crazy, but he was glad in a way. It would have been torture to get through Thanksgiving dinner craving Coop the whole time. At least the fuck would take the egde off in a major way.

By the time the father had showered and changed into nicer holiday dinner clothes, he came down to the dining room to see Cooper dutifully setting the table. His son looked up with a smirk. Brian had to let out a silent laugh and shake his head.

He stepped into the kitchen. "Smells great, honey," he said, stepping behind Jenn and massaging his shoulders as she stirred the gravy. He gave a soft kiss to her blond hair. Yeah, Brian was a schmuck, but he did appreciate how his wife made these days special.

"You know you're in the way in the kitchen," she said in a soft laugh that let Brian know she wasn't too upset. "Why don't you help Cooper... the water glasses need to be put out."

"Aye aye captain," the masculine building contractor joked and stepped away from his wife's petite frame.

He entered the dining room as Cooper was finishing placing the silverware around the settings. Silently, Brian set down the glasses and circled that table across Cooper. His eyes watched his son, who returned his father's gaze with a silent communication. Conspiracy. Secret. There were no words to convey the gravity of their affair. But Brian knew that even if his son had showered up, that there was still a healthy load of Brian's cum deep inside the jock. He knew Coop would keep that semen inside him, prized more than one of his football trophies.

Their eyes flitted back and locked once more. Then knowing the coast was clear, Brian stepped around. "I forgot something earlier," he whispered.

"What?" Cooper said.

God, his son talked like a college kid already, testosterone deepness tinging his young voice.

Brian could hear the sounds of his wife whisking the pot. The coast was clear. He raised his hand and wrapped his fingers around his son's neck, pulling Cooper's face toward his. The kiss was soft with lots of gentle tongue.

"Love you," the father lipped silently when he pulled back.

That brought a big smile on the football player's face. Not a grin, a real smile. He now leaned in to place his mouth closer to his dad's ear. "Love you too, Dad."

Just then the doorbell rang, signalling the arrival of the first of the in-laws.

"Hold that thought, buddy," Brian said with a chuckle as he pulled back, meeting his son's eyes once more before going to answer the door.

#drakestories

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rancidslime · 3 days ago

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Hold on I'd actually love to talk about Archie comics and the forces behind Riverdale for a second because they're legitimately fascinating.

So, before we talk about why Riverdale's so bonkers, we gotta talk about Kevin Keller. Archie's cast and those of its spinoffs being thrown into Situations of wildly differing tone and periods is a time-honored classic of the series, but that started to mean more than just "here's a story about the gang finding out what kissing is in prehistoric times" after the successful introduction of Kevin in 2010. For those who may not know, Kevin was the first openly gay character in the Archie comics, and his release was kind of a huge deal - Archie had always been seen as this squeaky-clean symbol of (white) Americana, so something like that happening in the new 10's - to fucking Archie - was legitimately groundbreaking. (He's since been followed up with characters like Toni Topaz and Eliza Han, but Kev was the first.)

Remember, Archie is the kids' comic book in America, for better or worse. Superhero comics can vary wildly in tone and intended audience, but if a parent grabs their kid an Archie comic from the shelf at a grocery store, they basically know what they're getting and don't have to worry about someone's neck getting ripped out on-panel. Getting something like Kevin in the "safest" comic short of Family Circus was kind of a watershed moment.

(As an aside: some have pointed out that Kevin isn't a terribly interesting character, being something of a masc everyman All-American Boy™, but I would argue that that's basically all Archie is, and at a time where all the "gay representation" kids were getting were horrible caricatures of fem men as envisioned by straight people, whitebread masc guy Kevin is kind of exactly what the doctor ordered. I would go so far as to argue that presenting this gay teen as unquestionably part of the gang, slotting into Archie's idealized 50's aesthetics perfectly, was one of the best moves they could have made for the era and surrounding climate. This was a time when "Gay men are just as capable of performing masculinity as straight men" was a legitimately transgressive statement. I'm a Kevin apologist. A Kevin defender.)

So, Kevin's release is huge. He's very popular with kids and adults alike, to the point where his introductory comic and miniseries sell out faster than any other Archie comic in history. He got his own spinoff within two years. People love Kevin.

So what does this have to do with Riverdale, beyond Kevin being a character in it? Well, Kevin Keller proves to the leads behind Archie that modernizing the series has the potential to be very lucrative indeed, and this is where Archie starts to get shockingly experimental. (Relatively speaking, anyway.) The new 10's see the release of Life With Archie: The Married Life, (a dual-timeline soap opera exploration of his married life with either Betty or Veronica) Afterlife with Archie, (a zombie story incited by Sabrina trying to bring Jughead's dog back after he was struck by a car) and of course, the infamous Chilling Adventures of Sabrina. (This one got a Netflix adaptation, but in case you need the cliff's notes, basically it's Sabrina the Teenage Witch only the witches get the power from worshiping Satan.)

These series were also well-received. Enter Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa, the guy behind the aforementioned Afterlife with Archie. After the success of the title, he was made Chief Creative Officer, and he's also the showrunner of Riverdale, and here is the reason Riverdale is Like That.

So while Riverdale is undoubtedly an incredibly weird cultural object, I think a lot of people who aren't familiar with the show or franchise get the wrong idea about it. I think the biggest point of confusion among onlookers is "How in on the bit is Riverdale?" and I would respond: extremely. Are you kidding? Why is there even any doubt about this? Sacasa is a gay guy who got cease-and-desisted for writing a play that reimagined Archie as gay in 2003. This dude got promoted specifically for playing with genre and making Archie weird as Hell back when it used to be considered a dull, whitebread relic. You think shit like the "I'm weird. I'm a weirdo." speech and "That means that you haven't known the triumphs and defeats, the epic highs and lows of high school football." happened by accident? You think it just stumbled into doing an entire Hedwig and the Angry Inch episode? Oh, no, my friend. That shit was the result of a demented fag writer doing what demented fag writers do best; produce camp masterpieces. Everything about Riverdale is completely intentional.

Now, is it good? No, of course not. It is, however, great fucking television. I don't really watch the show outside of a few isolated episodes, but I am really glad it exists.

Gritty sci-fi webcomic where partway through the third major arc the protagonists get trapped in some sort of utopian false reality by a mysterious godlike being, except they never escape and the comic just changes genres to quirky coffee-shop slice of life until it's unceremoniously cancelled six years later.

#posting #archie comics

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redvelvetcupcakes21 · 2 days ago

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Might write it out more.

Tommy isn't religious, but he's praying to whomever can hear him that the boy,who looks barely two or three years old, is okay.

He wants to desperately curse out the parents for being stupid enough to go hiking when the Santa Ana winds were getting stronger.

Tommy picks up the kid gingerly, waiting for his team to pull the parents first since they weren't responding. The kid had a horrible open wound that Tommy was betting was a fracture but the kid's eyes were open and he seemed alert- scared really.

Something about the kid's eyes felt eerily familiar- a sense of deja vu washed over Tommy. The kid's eyes were starting blue and so animated, that Tommy was sure he could read the kid's thoughts just by looking into his eyes.

He gently pushed back the kid's blond curly hair back, pressing against the wound as the kid's eyes could only look around in fear. "Hey, I'm Tommy. What you're name, kiddo?"

"Danny." The kid slurred, his voice barely a whisper. "Mommy and daddy hurt?"

Tommy nodded, "Yes, your mommy and daddy got hurt but my friends are gonna help, okay? We're all firefighters and we're gonna take you to the hospital so you can feel better." He explained gently. He looked up to the helicopter that Lucy was piloting l. The winds were harsh and he had covered Danny's face from having to see his parents sway in the wind as they were being pulled into the helicopter.

"Firetruck?" Danny's eyes were filled with wonder and excitement, of course the kid would love firetrucks.

Tommy laughed, " When we get out of here, we can go see firetrucks with your mom and dad. Okay?"

Danny's eyes drooped close, Tommy patted the toddler's face gently, "Hey buddy, I know you're tired, but I need you to stay awake."

"I'm not tired, Tummy."

Tommy nearly snickered at that, the kid was such a cutie pie. "Hey, what if we sang a song? Want to sing me a song?"

He heard it before he heard his team yell.

The sound of the ground shifting.

"KINARD!"

Amir was ready by the doors for EMT to come through with the second party of the hill avalanche call.

The first set to come through was a couple, younger than Amir. Amir knew that they were able to get the name of the man since he had on a medical bracelet- Connor. They were both rushed to the OR due to being in critical conditions. Amir wasn't sure if either one would make it just based on the amount of blood he saw on the emt workers working on them.

He waited and saw his patient coming in.

"What do we have today?" Amir asked, taking control of the gurney that had the third adult.

"40 years old white male, lacerations on the back of the head, severe bruising on his back and legs, possible fracture on his left leg and possible crush hip." The rushed blond emt informed him, Amir's eyes followed the fourth gurney that was trailing behind them, this one carrying much smaller patient

"Is that his kid?" Amir asked, the kid looked rough and bloodied, with another nurse taking over the bagging for the kid's ventilation.

Another emt looked the blond woman worriedly, "No, he's one of ours, Tommy Kinard. The kid belongs to the parents who were rushed in earlier."

Amir sighed, "Noted, we'll take it from here guys."

The five mile run didn't do anything to calm Buck's nerves.

He still wanted to call Tommy.

More now than ever since he felt like he was losing his family again.

He wanted to be supportive of Eddie, of Maddie and Chim, and Bobby.

But a part of him felt like he couldn't.

Especially that part that saw a future with Tommy.

He chucked his headphones onto the kitchen counter and was ready to do the same with his phone when he saw a familiar number calling him.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Evan Buckley?"

Buck could already feel himself start to worry, no one typically asked that question unless it was related to something bad.

"Uh, ye-yeah, this is Evan Buckley." Buck replied roughly.

"I'm calling from Cedar-Sinai hospital, I'm calling about Thomas Kinard? You're listed as his emergency contact."

Buck felt his blood rush to his ears, he was sure words were said but he was on auto-pilot now. He understood a few words the nurse was telling him as he grabbed his keys and wallet: severe injuries, avalanche, helicopter rescue, kid.

Buck just needed to get to Tommy.

#bucktommy #tevan #they said that run in might be awkward #so i made it awkward and angsty

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hybridhideoutstory · 6 hours ago

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CHAPTER 3

The first place Payton was that morning was in the hideout kitchen with Pattie at 6:30 sharp. The two of them were starting their punishment of the day after attempting to eliminate each other off the Hideout’s registry. Today the two of them were washing every dish left behind by the hybrids during breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert. This was all basically 6:30am to 10:00pm, the only difference over the course of the day was what they had to clean off the plates.

Payton had to wear a heavy and thick bonnet as to not get their purple paint hair wet, even if their horns poked out of it uncomfortably. They also had bright yellow rubber gloves that went up to their forearms. They wore a dirty apron that went down to their knees and the thickest clothes the hideout had in their supplies. They were sweating bullets, but instead of just looking shiny and smelling like rotten fish they started to look like a splash of rainbow colors and reeked of expo markers. Apparently their sweat had to be watercolor paint, of course it was. All Pattie had to wear was gloves, a hair net, and an apron over her normal clothes. Safe to say she didn’t understand Payton’s complaints about the heat.

Their body was still aching from fight yesterday. They felt like they were going to fall over from the heat and the pain combined.

Sometime in late evening one of the workers returned home early so Pattie and Payton were asked to run one of the cashier positions. It wasn’t much of a cashier as in collecting money, it was more like just take the order and tell the cooks. Pattie basically forced Payton to run it because according to her she couldn’t “do math” even if math wasn’t involved. That was fine by Payton, at least they weren’t at risk of death by wet. About ten minutes before they could go back to their room that evening a kid walked up to the counter and placed his arm smugly over the table like he owned the place.

“Good evening juvenile hybrid”

“Wow… good to meet you too what the hell is your order…”

The kid looked like an adolescent anthropomorphic Dumbo. He had the same ears of an elephant and teeth that stuck out of his mouth like tusks. He wore a red T-shirt and cargo shorts with so many pockets that Payton envied him.

“I don’t want anything to eat really, just want you to know that this is what happens when ladies like you try to act like boys.”

“… what…”

“I mean, they put you two on dishwashing duties today for a reason!

Payton stood there in a stunned silence for a moment “Um… sir, I’m not a woman

“Oh so your one of those girls.”

“What?”

“One of those girls who think they aren’t a girl, well that’s not what biology says. You girls gotta learn that your gender depends on what’s in your pants, not just something you can change Willy nilly for attention. Enjoy washing those dishes because I assume this punishment is going to happen again if you don’t fix your act. Good day young lady!” And just like that he walked away.

“Who was that punk?” Pattie shouted from the back.

“I- I don’t know. I’ve been here for like two days.”

“I bet it was that Lucas kid” she said with a small amount of cheer

“Who?”

“Lucas! Him and his sister are always tryna start fights in this place. They’re discourse hybrids.”

“Discourse hybrids? Wait wait so do the make people fight each other?”

“Better, they make groups a people fight. They basically cause civil war. Which is awesome because it means more pain!”

“Oh so you just like when people are in pain?”

“Well yeah! I’m the pain hybrid! It’s all I do!” Pattie proclaimed with pride.

“Well isn’t it lovely that we know each other” Payton said sarcastically.

That night as Payton was sitting in bed they kept thinking about that Lucas kid and his apparent sister. What really bothered them was what Lucas said to them. His logic wasn’t much different than their parents, which was probably why it had really gotten under their skin. Whatever biology textbook he read certainly didn’t matter anymore, no one in the hideout was even fully human, that’s why they were there anyway! At least their gender, according to his logic, was “yellow paint” and not “girl”. That made them feel a little better.

The next day was finally a day were they could do what they want, free of tours and chores. They took the elevator to areas they assumed Omf never had the time to show them because they had go beaten half ways through. They took a major liking to the art studio. It was gorgeous. Kids were quiet and mostly just listening to music while doing crafts, painting, sketching, and anything that could be a creative outlet. They sat on a table with another kid and set up their canvas. Now, what they really wanted to test was if they could paint with their tail. It was pretty wide but not to large, it was manageable. The sky blue color the studio had was amazing, not only was the color vibrant and exactly what they wanted, it also tasted like sweet cotton candy.

“Excuse me?” Said the girl at the table. She looked to be the same age as Payton. She wore a blue turtleneck And had long brown hair. She had the ears of a donkey which made Payton think maybe she was the gold hybrid or something, they knew some things about Greek mythology despite their Christian upbringing. The girl stared at her.

“Are you enforcing the stereotype that art kids are gay?” She said with a hint of self righteousness

“What? No? I just like to paint. It’s always been a pastime of mine.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Oh my god…”

“HEY! That’s offensive to some Christian hybrids here who might not feel comfortable with you using the lords name in vain!”

“But…”

“No buts! I’m going to have to make a peaceful protest against you!” The donkey girl grabbed a nearby can of purple paint and dumped it onto Payton’s head. Their clothes weren’t stained as their body basically started to absorb it, but the extra paint caused their hair to suddenly grow really long. They hated that. Suddenly they heard a voice they recognized.

“Good one sis!” Said Lucas, who was standing at the side of the table the whole time. “You really got her good.”

“Hey, at least I’m peaceful about my views.”

Lucas sat down next to his sister. “Did ya know my sister Lela is an excellent hair stylist?” He asked Payton. “Of course, we couldn’t go too short, didn’t want you to look too boyish.”

Payton could feel their body boiling, literally, the paint was bubbling off their skin. They got of from their seat and stormed out of the studio.

Omf spotted Payton in the lobby of the hideout.

“Hey Pay Pay! :]>” he exclaimed. “Woah, where did you get the reverse haircut? :]”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” They stomped their foot.

“Hey, your obviously grumpy stumpy on something! Why don’t ya tell me? I can keep secrets.”

“It’s the discourse hybrids.”

His jaw would’ve fell off his face if it wasn’t attached to his face. “Sugar-cookie >:[, those guys are so rude to everyone for no reason! No wonder your so cranky!”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Maybe write it down in a journal?” Omf suggested.

“OH MY GOSH!” Shouted Lela from across the lobby. Payton perked up in shock wondering how she and her brother got there so fast.

Lucas spoke up. “Are you really gonna journal? Didn’t you know that paper was invented in Foreign land? Not only that but it was invented in China! Which is a threat to our American civilization!”

“And!” Lela interjected. “Paper is made of trees! Do you support the countless trees that are constantly murdered so you can write your sorry little woes into a hideous journal? You! Paint person…”

“Paint girl…” Lucas stated mater of factly.

“Right… you are one of the most offensive hybrids in this whole hideout! And everyone is going to know because I’m going to tell every one!”

If Payton was bubbling before they were boiling by now. “What kind of nonsense reasoning are you just spitballing?! That makes no sense!”

“It’s just facts!” The siblings said in unison.

“THATS IT!” Payton screamed. “IM GONNA KILL YOU TWO!”

“PAYTON!” Omf restrained them. “Please! Don’t let them get to you! They’re trying to make you feel all angry and stuff!”

Payton struggled against Omf while the siblings look on smugly, as if daring Payton to attack.

“You’re really going to let these losers get away with nonsense?!” Payton shouted.

“Please! I know it’s nonsense! That’s why you can’t give into it!”

“Go on juvenile!” Egged on Lucas. “We all know your going to end up washing dishes again like a true lady!”

“SHUT! UP!” Payton growled.

“You clearly plan on hurting my brother over here! I’m afraid I’m gonna have to rally up my friends and we’ll hold a peaceful protest to have you silently executed for your behavior. Don’t worry it’ll be an accident. I don’t do horrible stuff like that on purpose.”

“YOU!…”

Omf covered their mouth before they could say anything that would get them cancelled by Lela. “Sorry fellow hideout residents!” He said apologetically. “Payton here is very new to the hideout and they are under a lot of stress! They don’t mean anything they say, it’s just the emotional pressure of it all! I’m going to take them to a place where they can let go of all of that anger in a healthy way! Toodles! :]>”

He quickly rushed them to the elevator.

Once he got Payton in the training dojo he let them go.

“What’s wrong with you!? I was gonna give those two what they deserve!”

“Payton no! You can go around solving everything with violence against others :[.”

“Says who your storybook?”

“Payton :[,” he said pleadingly. “If you do what you think is the right thing in the moment your only going to make things worse for yourself. Your going to prove them right. That’s the worse thing you can do.”

He grabbed a sword and pointed it to a dummy.

“You see, this is how I take out my anger. I battle these dummies. Because they’re not real! They sure as heck can’t get hurt either. So what I do is just…” he sliced the dummies head clean off with the sword. “Let it out here. It might not work as well for you, but it works for me. So I think we should give it a try. How about That? :]”

Payton looked at their hands, then back at Omf. They tried to think of the sharpest sword imaginable. The really wanted the nonsense to stop as soon as possible. They swung their hand and

Swish

Payton’s hand had sliced through the dummy like it was butter.

“Woah!” Omf exclaimed. “Dude! Your hand turned into a super stelar sword! :0”

“Yeah… I guess so. Can I go slice up the siblings with it now?”

“NO NO NO NO! Absolutely not! That’s no way to handle this. Lets try slicing up a bunch of these dummies instead. Then if you feel better and apologize to the siblings for your behavior, I’ll put in a good word to Luna, okay?”

“Apologize?”

“I know, but it’ll make you better than those two, I promise.”

“Ugh. Fine.” Payton figured it would be nice to be on Luna’s good side after what happened yesterday. So they started slicing.

Each dummy was like exterminating another one of their problems. The fact they would never see their family again? That dummy is gone. They’ll never see their friends and girlfriend again? That dummy looks like diced carrots now. They had to live with Lizard boy’s stupid and silly rules? That dummy isn’t even recognizable anymore.

Even though they didn’t want to admit it, this massacre of potato sacks and stuffing was actually helpful. They felt like they were taking action. Even though they weren’t. Forty five minutes later they were sweating and perfectly relaxed.

“So…” Omf approached them carefully. “How do you feel after all of… that…”

“Okay I guess.” Payton said, out of breath.

“I’m going to take that as a yes from you :]. In a few minutes I’m going to find Lela and Lucas so you can say sorry. Water?”

“NO!”

“Oh my gosh I’m sorry I’m sorry. I forgot. Hey, looks like you gave yourself a haircut too!”

Payton looked in a mirror, sure enough, all the extra hair length they got from the bucket was gone. “Thank god.” They mumbled.

A few moments later Payton found themself sitting at a cafeteria table with Omf, Lela, and Lucas. The siblings looked as smug as ever at the two of them. They were both expecting Payton to leap out and attack them. That meant they could become public enemy number one in the hideout, and that meant discourse would be high. “It’s going to be amazing” thought the siblings.

“Well,” Omf broke the silence. “Tell them what you wanted to say.”

“I’m sorry” Payton said.

“WHAT?!” Both siblings shouted.

“Look, I am under a lot of stress with being new and all, so I’m sorry if I offended you two. I’m just trying to do my best to comprehend everything.”

“But…” Lucas said. “You…”

“Yeah I said some stuff I regret. And I’m sorry.”

Lela perked up. “But your supposed to be mad…”

“And I’m not.”

Both of them were red in the face. “Yeah?” Lucas said. “I bet your parents don’t accept your pronoun nonsense!”

“And I dealt with that feeling.” Payton said with a bit of pride. “I felt with all the feelings I’ve been experiencing over the past two days.”

“But-.”

Omf cut Lela off. “I think Payton got their point across. I think they need some time to themself now.” He turned to them, giddy and proud. “Let’s get you to your room :]”

Now, Payton knew they didn’t mean any “sorry” that they said. Those kids probably deserved to be put In their place, but Payton didn’t do that. And for some reason, they felt good about that. They could’ve hurt those guys if they wanted to., but they didn’t. They didn’t allow themself to stoop down to a level that made them look just as bad as the siblings. Payton lounged in their bed. For some reason, they felt way more tired than usual. It was only 4PM, but they felt as tired as if it was 2 in the morning. “It’s probably the training.” They thought to themself. They then peacefully zoomed off to slumber.

<<PREV (you are here) NEXT>>

#hybrid hideout #original work #original writing #writing #original story #original character #original fantasy #oc story #oc writing #oc work

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winchesterwild78 · 2 days ago

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An Unexpected Friendship pt 10

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, Jensen’s children

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: FLUF, Smut!

A/N: This is a short story written in collaboration with @cheekygirl2309.

This chapter is the FINAL chapter. I’ve loved creating this story with @cheekygirl2309. I’ve had so much fun and enjoyed reading all of the love and support for this story.

No disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. Written and edited fast-please overlook any errors.

Minors DNI 18+

The next few months were so amazing. Jensen was true to his word and invited Josh’s parents to every big event we had. I was grateful they came and felt like they were family. Jazzy was also so proud of her new last name.

When we went to the school to change her name, she proudly announced she was an Ackles. The secretaries smiled and congratulated her. In public she would introduce Jensen as her daddy. Since our engagement and the adoption, social media had exploded with stories and pictures of all of us.

Jensen and I officially went public and most of the fans were supportive. I did my best to tune out the negative and focus on the positive ones. It was hard at times, but I knew I had Jensen to help navigate me through it.

Jensen and I talked about the wedding and we both agreed we wanted a small, intimate ceremony with just our children, close family and friends. Since Jensen officiated his wedding, Jensen reached out to Jeffery Dean Morgan to officiate ours. He was thrilled to do it. I was excited to meet him and his family. We had FaceTimed, but never met in person.

Jensen and I also wanted to write our own vows. It took me by surprise when he mentioned it. I was nervous, because how do you really put into words how someone saved you when you thought you weren’t worth saving. I love Jensen, and I only hoped I could put it into words good enough to show him how much he means to me.

Our wedding date was set, we were going to have a Spring wedding. Mid-April, at dusk, and hopefully under a tent. I of course told Jensen we needed a backup plan in the event of rain. “It’s Texas sweetheart, I don’t think it’s going to rain.” “Still, I’d like a backup plan.” I chuckled.

“Okay, how about we have it at The Allan House, right here in Austin? It has space inside and out. So if we have to move it inside we can still have it in the same place. The ceremony and reception can all be there.” He pulled it up on the computer and the photos were breathtaking. I smiled, “Jensen, it’s beautiful. Do you really think we can book it?”

“Absolutely, I know the owner, so I’ll give them a call.” I playfully rolled my eyes, “Of course you do.” Jensen laughed and called. When he got off the phone he smiled, “We’re all set, sweetheart. Are you ready to start planning our wedding?”

I smiled and pulled him in my arms, “Yes, Jensen! I’m more than ready.”

*Time Jump 3 days before the Wedding*

“Jensen, I need to go with Gen and Nichole to pick up my dress. When is Jeff coming in again?” “He should be here today. His wife and the kids will be coming in tomorrow I believe. He’s going with me today to get fitted for his tux. I gave the tailor his measurements, so I hope it fits.” “Me too, Jens. Okay, I’ll be back later. I love you.” “I love you too, the kids are going with mom and dad for the afternoon, so when you get back they won’t be here.”

I grabbed my stuff and nodded. As I got to the door I heard Jensen clear his throat. “Did you forget something, darlin’?” I turned on my heels and chuckled, “Nope.” I said, popping the “p” as I leaned in and kissed him goodbye. “How could I ever forget kissing you. It’s one of my favorite things to do.”

Jensen chuckled, “Oh and what are some of your other favorite things to do?” I smirked, got really close to his lips again and said, “you”. Then kissed him again. He grabbed my hand as I tried to pull away, “Then what’s stopping you?” Jensen pulled me flush to his strong body and I felt his arousal straining against his jeans.

“Baby I have an appointment at the dress shop. I don’t want to miss it, unless you want me to get married naked.” Jensen wiggled his eyebrows. I rolled my eyes and playfully hit his chest, “Jens, I’m not getting married naked. Sorry to disappoint you.” Jensen threw his head back and laughed.

He kissed me again and we said our goodbyes.

I arrived at the dress shop with a few minutes to spare. Gen and Nichole were waiting outside for me. They hugged me and we walked in. “Y/N! So happy to see you. Your dress is ready. Are you ready to try it on one last time?” I smiled and nodded.

Gen and Nichole sat on the couches and waited for me. When I came around the corner both of them gasped and I saw tears in their eyes. Sally, the owner, walked behind me and fluffed the dress as I stood on the platform. “Okay, Y/N, one last touch.” She placed a veil on my head. I took a deep steady breath looking in the mirror. I looked over my shoulder at Nichole and Gen with tears in my eyes.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N. Jensen isn’t going to know what hit him.” I stood there looking in the mirror and the realization hit me. I was about to get married to Jensen and I had nobody to walk me down the aisle.

Tears started to fall. My mother had passed away not long after Josh, and my father left us when I was two. Nichole rushed to my side and pulled me close, “Shh, it’s okay sweetie. You have me, Gen, Jared and the kids.” “I know, and I love you all so much. I just don’t know how I’m going to walk down that aisle alone. My mom walked me to Josh.”

She pulled me tight, “I can do it if you want me to.” I smiled, “I know, but I need you standing up there with me and making sure Jensen doesn’t pass out.” We all three laughed. Gen was by my side too, “Honey, you’re one of the strongest people I know. You can do this. Jensen, all of your babies and all of us are there with you and for you. You know Jared would walk you down the aisle if you wanted him to.”

I nodded, “Yeah, he offered, but I don’t want to take him away from Jensen. He needs his brother by his side. Okay, enough of this crying. Let’s get me out of this gorgeous dress and you two into yours.”

I changed into my regular clothes, while Gen and Nichole got into their dresses. When they came out they were absolutely breathtaking. “You two are so beautiful.” Nichole squealed when she realized the dress had pockets, “Y/N! Look! It has pockets.” We all laughed, “Yep, I made sure they did, and so does mine.”

With our dresses in hand we headed out to get some last minute things for the wedding. Gen was keeping my dress at her house so Jensen wouldn’t see it, and I already had the kids’ outfits for the wedding. The girls were wearing matching dresses and Zeppelin was wearing a tuxedo that matched Jensen’s.

Jensen and I selected Navy blue, white, and gold as our wedding colors. The main colors being blue and gold. My dress was white, and the back opened into a beautiful navy blue that ran the length of the dress, and around the top of the bodice was blue. The girls’ dresses were navy blue, with white flowers on the skirts. Jensen and Zeppelin were wearing navy blue tuxedos, and his groomsmen were wearing grey.

As the day approached, my nerves were starting to get the better of me. I thought about my wedding with Josh and how I was so nervous before, I actually threw up in the bridal suite. I really hoped this one would be different.

*Wedding Day*

I woke up early, stretched and reached for Jensen out of habit. My heart faltered a little when my hand hit the empty bed. He stayed with Jared last night. We decided we wouldn’t see each other until the ceremony. I was so excited to see his reaction when he turned around and saw me at the other end of the aisle.

I got out of bed, showered and went downstairs to a note on the counter and an artificial rose. I knew that handwriting from anywhere, it was Jensen. I smiled because I knew he snuck in last night after I went to bed to leave this for me.

I opened the note and smiled as I read it.

My love,

Today is the day we promise before our family and God to be together forever. The road that led us here was bumpy, but we got through it together. I can’t wait to see how beautiful you’re going to look in your dress. I know you’re going to take my breath away, like you have since the day I met you. I love you, darlin’, until that rose I left you dies. I’ll see you later, beautiful.

Love,

I felt the sting of tears in my eyes. I grabbed my phone and sent him a text.

Me: Thank you for my wonderful surprise this morning. I’ll love you until the rose dies too.

Jensen: I’m glad you liked it. I love you so much baby.

Me: I love you too, handsome. I can’t wait to see you in your tux. You know what it does to me, and wait until your fans see it. They are gonna go feral. 😘 🤤

Jensen: Ha! They go feral over everything.

Me: Of course they do, have you seen you?!

Jensen: Every single day in the shower. 😉

Me: Oh you’re so mean. Now I can’t stop thinking about you naked.

Jensen: Then mission accomplished. 😂

Me: Okay, Mr. Ackles, you’re going to pay.

Jensen: Ooo how?

Me: *1 image sent* this is what I’m wearing under my dress

Jensen: Damn baby. Now that’s mean. I can’t wait to take that off of you.

Me: Patience my love. Just think the whole time I’m standing next to you, dancing, we’re walking around, that is what is under my dress. Just waiting for you.

Jensen growled and adjusted his pants when he read what I wrote.

Jensen: You’re killing me.

Me: Oops, sorry baby. 😘 I love you, I need to get ready to leave or Gen and Nichole are going to drag me out of here.

Jensen: Yeah, Jared is banging on the door. I love you too baby. See you soon.

Gen, Nichole and I arrived at the Allan House to get ready for the wedding. Jensen’s mom had the kids, and Josh’s parents were there to help with them too. My hair and makeup was done. I wore my hair half up and half down, with ringlets cascading over my shoulders.

Jensen was across the property in the groom’s suite when there was a knock at the door. Jared opened it and saw Bill. “May I come in?” Jared stepped to the side. Jensen was in his tux and turned to shake Bill’s hand. “Bill, thank you for being here with us today. It means so much to Y/N and I.”

“You’re welcome. Jensen I wonder if I could talk to you in private for a minute?” “Of course. Jared, can you give us a minute?” Jared nodded and left the room. “Bill, you wanted to speak to me? Is everything okay?” “Oh yeah, everything is perfect. Y/N is like a daughter to me, us. Even before she married Josh she was part of our family. When she married Josh and had Jazzy we felt on top of the world. After Josh died, a part of her died with him, but she kept that sweet, caring heart we all loved so much. We were so thankful when she met you and fell in love again, and even more thankful you were willing to have us in your lives. We can never repay you for that, son. Jensen, Margaret and I would like you to have this. I wore them when I married Margaret, and Josh wore them when he married Y/N. We want you to have them so when Jazzy gets old enough you can give them to her to use in her wedding.”

Bill handed Jensen a small box, when he opened it there were beautiful gold, sapphire and diamond cufflinks. “Bill, these are beautiful, I can’t take them. They belong in your family.” Bill placed a hand on Jensen’s shoulder, “Son, you are family. They belong with you and Y/N.” “Bill, I’d be honored to wear them, thank you, sir.” Jensen and Bill exchanged a hug as he took the box.

I was standing in the bridal suite taking deep breaths, looking at myself in the mirror when there was a knock on the door. Nichole answered it and when I looked up I saw Margaret and Bill. “Wow, sweetie, you’re stunning.” Margaret said as she pulled me into a hug.

Bill stood to the side and just looked at me. I took a deep breath, “Do I look okay?” I asked him. He stepped forward, “Sweetheart, you’re even more beautiful than the day you married Joshua. Jensen is a lucky man.” He hugged me and I felt the tears burn the back of my eyes.

It was a few minutes until the ceremony started and I still felt a pang of sadness about walking down the aisle alone. Jensen’s mom and Margaret got the kids in place, Gen and Nichole got in place and I took one last look in the mirror.

Bill was standing at the door waiting for me. “You okay, kiddo?” My eyes flicked to him and he saw the tears in mine. He pulled me in a hug, “Shh, you’ve got this sweetie. That man out there is in love with you and I know you two are going to be incredibly happy.” I nodded. Then it hit me. I might not have grown up with a father, but I had a dad and he was standing right there with me.

“Bill?” “Yes, sweetie?” “If you say no it’s okay. I completely understand, but would you do me the honor of walking me down the aisle?” “It would be my honor to do that.” I nodded, he took my arm and we walked outside.

The sun was just starting to set, so the twinkle lights under the tent were sparkling with the orange glow from the setting sun. It was breathtaking.

I heard the music start for the kids, Gen and Nichole. Then came my music. Bill took my arm and we walked out and around the corner. Jeff motioned for everyone to stand.

Jensen turned around and locked eyes with me. I saw tears in his eyes. I walked down the aisle, my eyes never leaving his. Trying to steady my breath, because damn did he look amazing in his tux.

At the end of the aisle, Bill hugged me, and gave my hand to Jensen. He shook Jensen’s hand and then hugged me again. Nichole fluffed my dress and I handed her my flowers, taking both of Jensen’s hands.

He leaned over and whispered, “God you’re so beautiful.” I smiled.

Jeff began the ceremony and it was time for our vows. Jensen went first. "The day I met you, I knew I had found something special. You were hurting, scared, and alone. I vowed to protect you, to love you, and to give you the happiness you deserve. I promise to always be your rock, your confidant, and your love. I'm grateful for the chance to be a part of your life. You've brought light into my world. You've shown me the meaning of unconditional love. I promise to be the best husband and father I can be. I'll always be there to support you, to encourage you, and to love you. Together, we'll build a future filled with love, laughter, and happiness. I'm so grateful for the chance to love you and our daughter. You've given me a reason to live, and a purpose. I promise to always be there for you, to provide for you, and to protect you. I'll cherish every moment we share, forever. I love you, Y/N."

My breath hitched, as the tears pricked my eyes. Then it was my turn. "When I first met you, I was lost in a storm. You were the lighthouse, steady and strong, guiding me to safety. You didn't just take me in; you welcomed me and my daughter into your heart. I promise to love you, cherish you, and honor you always. Thank you for being my hero. You saw me when I couldn't see myself. You loved me when I thought love was a distant memory. You're not just my partner, you're my protector, my provider, and my best friend. I promise to be the best wife and mother I can be, to love you unconditionally, and to build a beautiful future together. I've found in you a love that's rare and true. You've shown me what it means to be loved and cared for. I promise to be your constant, your support, and your joy. Together, we'll face whatever life throws our way, hand in hand. I love you, Jensen.”

Jeff smiled and Jensen nodded at him, “Jensen and Y/N have also written vows to their children, which they will say now.

Jensen began, "Jazmyne, I promise to always be here for you, to love you unconditionally, and to guide you on your journey. I promise to be a loving and supportive dad, and to always be there to listen and to help. When you came into my life I had no idea what was missing. You and your mom were the missing pieces in my life. I will spend the rest of my life being the dad you deserve, and helping guide you through life’s trials, and love you until all the stars fall from the sky.” Jazzy leaped in his arms and held him tight. “I love you too, daddy.”

I took a deep breath and looked at JJ, Arrow and Zeppelin. “JJ, Arrow and Zeppy, I promise to always be a source of love, laughter, and support for you three. I'll be there for your triumphs, your setbacks, and everything in between. We will tackle it all together. I vow to honor the bond you share with your dad, and the love and bond you had with your mom. I am extremely honored to be a part of your lives, and to watch you grow. I’ve loved you three since the beginning and I’ll love you three until all the stars fall. Together the six of us will be a family and will always be there to take care of each other. I love you three so much.” They hugged me tightly, “We love you too.”

When I stood up, Jeff smiled. “Jensen, do you take Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

Jensen looked at me and smiled, “I do.” Then Jeff turned to me, “Y/N, do you take Jensen to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?” I looked at Jensen and smiled, “I do.”

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Jensen, you may kiss your bride.” Jensen pulled me flush to him, leaned me back and kissed me deeply. Cheers and applause erupted. When Jensen pulled me back up we turned to face everyone. “It is my honor to announce for the first time, Mr and Mrs Jensen and Y/N Ackles.”

Jensen, and I took each other’s hands and walked down the aisle together. We walked into the bridal suite to wait for photos. Inside Jensen closed and locked the door.

He walked over to me and pulled me in for another deep kiss. He pulled away and looked at me, “You are absolutely breathtaking, darlin’. Are you wearing that thing you sent me under this?” He tried to pull my dress to the side and I giggled. “Yes I am, but you’re going to have to wait to see it. If you mess up my hair before pictures, Gen and Nichole are going to kick your ass.”

He pulled me flush to his body, “Worth it.” I giggled as he started to kiss down my neck. I moaned as his hands started running up and down my body. Jensen’s hands slid down to the bottom of my dress and lifted up my skirt, revealing the dark blue lingerie I was wearing.

Jensen bit his lip and growled. “Damn baby, this is beautiful, but definitely in the way.” I grabbed his hand, and that’s when I felt the cufflinks. “Jens, where did you get these?” “Bill and Margaret gave them to me. They wanted me to wear them when I married you, because you’re like a daughter to them.” I nodded, “That’s so sweet, Jens. These look like the ones Josh wore.” “That’s because they are, sweetheart.” I gasped, “Oh wow.”

There was a knock on the door. It was Gen telling us it was time to get pictures taken. After pictures, it was time to enjoy the reception. We danced, ate, drank and had so much fun.

As the night wore on the kids were starting to get sleepy. Jensen’s parents were keeping the kids for the night so Jensen and I could be alone. We had decided instead of a honeymoon with just the two of us, we were going on a family moon and taking the kids with us. We were leaving in two days, so Jensen and I had two days alone.

It was time for Jensen and I to leave the reception. Everyone lined up with sparklers and created an arch for us to walk under. When we got to the end, I turned around and hugged all of the kids and told them good night. Jensen helped me into Baby, and then walked around and slid in the driver’s seat.

He took my hand in his and kissed it. “Ready to go home, Mr. Ackles?” “You better believe it, Mrs. Ackles. I can’t wait to get you out of that dress.”

I chuckled and bit my lip. My body tingled with anticipation of what was to come.

Jensen pulled into the driveway and walked around to my door. He opened it and offered me his hand. When he pulled me out of the car he pulled me flush to his body. His lips hovered over mine. I could feel his hot breath on my lips. I swallowed hard, my heart beating wildly in my chest.

Jensen kissed me softly and took my hand, leading me to the door. Opening the door, Jensen looked at me, scooped me up and carried me over the threshold. “Welcome home, Mrs. Ackles.” He gently put me down and closed and locked the door.

As soon as the door was locked, Jensen’s lips and hands were back on me. He kissed down my neck and to my cleavage. I tilted my head back and let out a moan. “Jens, please.”

Jensen took my hand and led me upstairs to our room. He moved my hair to the side and started to unzip my dress. I shivered when his fingers brushed against my skin. When my dress was unzipped I let it fall at my feet.

Standing before my husband in the navy blue lingerie I had on under my dress. Jensen bit his lip, “God this looks better in person. I am one lucky man.” I blushed.

Jensen started to take off his tuxedo. I sat on the edge of the bed, watching him strip. My thighs clenched together when he was down to his boxers. My hands ran up his toned chest and into his hair as I stood to kiss his lips.

I could feel his arousal through the thin material of his boxers, and my arousal soaking my panties.

Jensen laid me back on the bed, pulled me down to the side and threw my legs over his shoulders. He unsnapped the bottom of the lingerie, exposing my dripping core. “Damn baby, you’re soaked.” I bit my lip and nodded. He kissed up my thighs and when he got to my pussy he slid his fingers inside. I gasped at the sudden feeling of fullness. Jensen hooked his fingers up, and his mouth attached to my clit. He sucked and licked, pushing me closer to the edge. My hands gripping the sheets and then his hair. I threw my head back, moaning and begging him not to stop.

“Oh fuck, Jensen! That feels so good. Don’t stop.” This encouraged him to go faster. I bucked my hips into his mouth. He sucked my swollen clit as his fingers continued pumping in and out of me, deeper and deeper.

“Jens..I’m…gonna…cum..oh fuck!” I moaned and pulled his head into my pussy. I felt the sting of his beard rubbing on my sensitive skin. I came hard with a loud scream of his name. Jensen kept going, and as my legs tried to close, he held them apart. I came again without warning. My body is sensitive and overstimulated. I screamed his name again.

Jensen finally leaned up, my release covering his face. He hovered over me and placed a kiss on my lips. I tasted my release and deepened the kiss. Jensen leaned up and removed his boxers, his cock pink and wet with precum. I leaned forward and took his cock in my hand. Guiding it to my mouth. I began to suck him down deep into my throat. Jensen hissed when I sucked him into his balls.

“Oh fuck, baby! Just like that.” I continued to suck him. My hands gripped his thighs as I took every inch of him in my mouth. Jensen’s hands went into my hair and began to push my head onto his cock.

“Yes, baby. Let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours. God, you feel so good.” The sounds of his moans and me sucking filled the room. Jensen’s breath ragged. Then he pulled me off of him.

“Jens, what happened? Did I hurt you?” Jensen cupped my face, “No darlin’ that was amazing, but if you kept it up I would have cum down your throat and I want to make love to my wife tonight.”

I smiled and nodded. He laid me back and crawled up between my legs. “You ready baby?” I nodded. Jensen took his length in his hand and lined himself up. With one thrust he bottomed out. Both of us were moaning as he filled me up. He stopped and allowed my body to adjust to his size.

He always stretched me in ways that had my head reeling. He began to move. His movements, slow and deliberate. He was making love to me, without hurrying through to get to his release.

His lips trailed over my body, our fingers finding each other and interlocking as he held my hands down on the bed. Our bodies moved together in slow, deliberate motions. My body was filled with desire, love and bliss.

“I love you, Jensen.” I whispered. “I love you too, Y/N. So much.”

“I want you on top, baby. I want to see your beautiful body.” I nodded, Jensen pulled out and laid down. I climbed on top, lined him back up and took him back inside. I placed my hands on his chest to steady myself. I began to rock my hips back and forth.

Jensen’s hands held onto my breasts as I continued to ride him. He was in so deep I could feel his cockhead hitting my cervix with each thrust. I rocked my hips and bounced faster. Something ignited in Jensen, because he lifted his legs up, held onto my hips and began to thrust up in me. His thrusts grew faster as his moans became louder. “Oh fuck, Y/N. You feel so good. I’m gonna cum, baby.”

“Yes, Jensen! Cum in me, fill me up with your seed.” A few more thrusts and Jensen was grunting, spilling his hot seed inside me. I could feel his cock twitch inside me. When I felt him stop, I climbed off, went to the bathroom and cleaned myself up. I came back with a washcloth and started to clean Jensen. Since he was extra sensitive he took the cloth and cleaned himself.

When he was done he threw it to the side and pulled me close to him. Jensen cupped my face and kissed me deeply. “Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for coming into our lives, loving us and becoming my wife. I love you so much baby and I promise you I will love you until the end of time.”

I smiled softly and looked into his green eyes so full of love, “I love you too, Jensen. Thank you for loving me and Jazzy and becoming my husband. I’ll love you until the end of time.”

Jensen pulled me close to him, grabbed the blanket and put it over us. “Good night, darlin’.” I laid my head on his chest, “Good night, baby.” The two of us drifted off to sleep thinking about how an unexpected friendship could lead to this beautiful family and incredible love we created together.

Tags are open, if you want to be added or removed, let me know.

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@k-slla @jackles010378

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@suckitands33 @arcannaa

@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78

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@mandee7 @barnes70stark

#hes gorgeous #so damn sexy #jensen ackles #jackles #jensen ackles x plus size reader #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles smut

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stupidvillainousposts · 1 day ago

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Shit's Been Angsty, so Take This

I'm gonna let y'all guess first thing if this is a merciful post

Stan, walking through the aisles of the grocery store: *Minding His Own Business*

Robbie: *Tosses a Tomato at Stan*

Stan: *Snarls and Turns to Glare at Robbie* Why you little-

Wendy: Whoa! Whoa! Hey, it's okay! I am so sorry for Robbie. He can be... him.

Stan: *Growls Softly*

Wendy: Whoa there, no need to get all growl-y, dude. I won't hurt ya. Pretty sure that muzzle and shock collar does enough on that end.

Stan: *Huffs and Blushes* Are you done talking? I have to get back to my family before the town gets the idea to throw pitchforks at me.

Wendy: Yeah, yeah sure. Again, sorry about Robbie.

Stan: Whatever. *Walks Off*

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

Stan: *Walking to the Pier After an Argument with Fidds*

Tyler: Oh no! Get away! Get away! *Runs Off in Terror*

Other Townspeople: *Overlapping Shouts of Fear and Disgust*

Random Person: *Throws a Stick at Stan*

Stan: *Snarls and Barks/Whimpers as His Collar Shocks Him*

Wendy, from a few feet away: Yeesh, that looked like it hurt.

Stan, rubbing his neck: You? What are you doing here?

Wendy: My dad brought me and my brothers here so we could practice fishing with our hands. I've caught the most so far so I got to take a break. What about you?

Stan: Why do you care?

Wendy: *Shrugs* I guess angry wolf men are pretty interesting compared to just standing and staring at myself in the water.

Stan: *Flicks His Ear Curiously* Yeah, well, it's grown-up stuff. Kid like you wouldn't get it.

Wendy: Lemme guess; Ya got in a fight with your boyfriend?

Stan: How did you-

Wendy: I know relationship issues when I see them.

Stan, defensively: We don't have issues! We just... didn't agree on something important. And I... I lost my temper.

Wendy: You still love him, though, right?

Stan, genuinely perplexed: Wha- Of course I do!

Wendy: Then for the sake of those kids I see hanging around your shack, I suggest you go let him know that.

Stan, after a brief pause: You're unnaturally mature for your age.

Wendy: I get that a lot. *Playfully* Now go before I call the pound.

Stan: *Snorts* Alright, alright.

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

Stan: *Relaxing with Fidds in Their Room*

Dipper: Grunkle Stan? There's a teenager at the door saying she knows you.

Stan: *Sits Up in Surprise* Red Head?

Fidds: *Amused* Ya nicknamed a random teen?

Stan: *Flicks Fidds' Cheek with a Smile* She's charming. Besides, I don't know her name.

Fidds: Then I suggest ya ask, it's the polite thing t' do.

Stan: *Playfully* Yes, dear. *Makes His Way Downstairs*

Dipper: *Follows Curiously*

Stan, upon seeing Wendy: Hey kid. Why're ya at this dingy place? Surely ya have better places to be than here.

Dipper, tugging Stan's shirt: *Quietly* Ask her what her name is! Grunkle Fidds told you to!

Stan: *Rolls His Eyes and Sighs* And, if this doesn't come off as too weird, think you could tell me your name? I don't think constantly calling you "kid" is appropriate.

Wendy: Name's Wendy. And I just thought I'd visit to make sure you guys were okay. I haven't seen you in town in a while.

Dipper: Grunkle Stan buys a lot of groceries at once so he doesn't have to go out much.

Stan, gritting his teeth: Dipper, why don't you go see what your sister's up to?

Dipper: But-

Stan: We can talk about it later, okay?

Dipper: Fine. *Stomps Away*

Wendy: Cute kid. He yours?

Stan: Brother's grandchild. We have them while some... stuff is being sorted out by their parents.

Wendy: Ah, poor things.

Stan: Yeah... So are you gonna just stand there or...?

Wendy: Are you gonna invite me in, or...?

Stan, holding back a smile: Alright, watch it smart mouth.

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

Fidds, during dinner one night: So, I take it we have another youngin'?

Stan: *Nearly Chokes on His Water* Wha- HUH?!

Fidds: Wendy, sweetie. Ya really seem t' like her. And she seems real nice.

Stan: Yeah, well, she also has a family. Unlike Soos.

Mabel: Soos has his grandma, though?

Stan: *To Mabel* Eat your veggies. *To Fidds* And no, we are not adopting another random child.

Believe it or not, they did end up symbolically adopting another random child.

#Gravity Falls #Fiddlestan #Monster AU #Werewolf Gene AU #Wendy's Basically That One Kid Who's Surprisingly Self Actualized #She's Not Afraid of Zombies or a Grumpy Middle-aged Wolfman #Getting Two More Unofficial Siblings and Two Monster Dads Was Just a Bonus of Her Being Nice to Stan #I Feel Like Wendy Wouldn't Stand for the Hate Against Stan #She'd Love to be a Part of Their Family

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pixeltwix · 2 days ago

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-Fiddleford Missing His Family-

To me, one of the most heartbreaking details of Gravity Falls is just..everything McGucket related, but specifically him before he starts even getting his family back after Weirdmageddon

Because he spent the entire series and probably the last thirty years trying to recreate his family

It speaks volumes to me that despite a shunning son and a divorce on his pallet, and zero memory or how any of this even happened, that he’s desperately trying to recreate a life he doesn’t even remember but knows he at least had at one point and wants again

Obviously we know he did have a wife and son, hell he’s introduced as a father first and foremost in the story and I think most people forget that, but through and through he is inherently a family man

I myself struggle to understand this mindset, and most do as well, but some people genuinely want to have a family. Like that’s genuinely their dream and their goal in life alongside their occupational dreams, and Fiddleford completely comes off as that kinda guy. I think he just struggled to balance himself thinking he couldn’t do fifty fifty and instead put one hundred percent into things separately and fell short in both categories here and there

Regardless, we know Tate, and even though season one never planned on making McGucket anything other than a comedic side character we know that changed with season two in the shows new direction

All that really does is complicate things for why Tate is here. Obviously we can fill in the blanks with the lore later given last minute, maybe he wanted to see if his father was actually up in Gravity Falls, maybe he wanted to see if he could get through to him and it ‘wasn’t as bad’ as what he had heard or assumed, but that’s not relevant in this post at the moment

What I’m focusing on instead is the fact that just because Fiddleford can’t bridge the gap and connect with his actual son, because he has zero clue what it is he’s done, it doesn’t stop him from being in the community and playing roles that a ‘normal father’ would be doing for his kids

Ie reading town history to local kids (even if he just wound up eating the books after) it’s usually still an important thing parents tend to want to do with their kids (the teaching aspect)

Being there as a chaperone on a first date (I know it’s not the first for Gideon & Mabel, but the point is still there) as most ‘normal’ parents want to be active in their kids lives and make sure they’re being safe, & making good choices in the world

Being at the Sev’Ral Times concert (later seen crowd surfing, which honestly still cracks me up) but nevertheless he shows up out of the blue to be vocally supportive of the girls excitement for the concert and their plans

Yknow, as a parent ought to be when taking their kid to their favorite bands concert

Annnd then of course, far less subtle to anything else mentioned before regarding an image to general parenthood, we have raccoon wife

Again, there’s nothing subtle about this, it’s raccoon wife and it is bizarre that no one in town questions this. “Crazy local coot thinks he’s married to a raccoon? Yeah, makes sense.” (Though tbf there’s a local man married to a woodpecker, so ig it’s whatever for everyone)

Again x2 I’m not sure what to add on here because it feels pretty blatant what bro is shooting for mental wise here, it just makes me wonder wHAt about a raccoon reminds him of Emma May?

Maybe it’s just the pale round face, dark eyes, and brown hair that makes it click in his head

Regardless I still think it’s sweet that even when he’s gotten some recollection of himself back he’s still concerned for the raccoons in the apocalypse

Anywho, call me an emotional loser if you want, but the concept of this old man wanting his family back for some thirty odd years and not knowing how to get them back so he substitutes it with other things is horribly depressing

I can at least rest easy knowing his relationship with Tate has improved after Weirdmageddon :)

#gravity falls #gravity falls fandom #fiddleford mcgucket #tate mcgucket #emma may dixon #the book of bill #book of bill #gravity falls thoughts #young fiddleford #mabel pines #weirdmageddon #journal 3 #fiddemma #my thoughs #rambles

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cowboylikedean · 2 days ago

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you know what i fucking hate this because i'm pretty sure @wednesdayday was pointing out that this is a systemic and sociological issue and then op comes in with "duh! of course everyone knows it's psychological!!!"

but like haven't we learned by now we can't fix systemic and sociological problems by pathologizing them?? "phone addiction" is not a thing. Behavior addictions are not addictions. there is not scientific evidence to back up calling behavior addictions "addictions." this is not about the phone! before smartphones it was the internet in general... and before that TV and video games... but none of these things are real. and none of them are the problem. kids not valuing the importance of human to human contact is systemic. look at the school systems. look at how much their parents have to work to pay for their lives. then lets look inward at the internet, the shift from smaller closer communities to larger more distant ones on big social media platforms is also a systemic part of this problem. so are algorithms and the lack of anonymity on the internet these days.

like there are big systemic reasons that make it harder for people to a) connect with each other and b) understand the importance of that connection. and that can't be fixed by psychoanalyzing the pandemic or why people are addicted to their phones. this isn't psychology, it's sociology. just like how racism cannot be cured with therapy, the decrease in human connection cannot be cured with therapy either.

over a million likes and everyone in the comments talking about how they’d rather talk to an ai because it meets their emotional needs, this is the new epidemic.

#stop falling into this trap #we need a huge push for systemic change #not to consider behavior like this unwell

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innytoes · 2 days ago

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The call came in just as he was sticking more photos to his board. He was so close to cracking this case, he just needed a little more evidence. Maybe find a source willing to talk to him. Either willingly or unwittingly, at this point he didn’t even care. He wouldn’t reveal his sources anyway, and if he could just figure out where to find something damning…

“Boldheart,” he said into the phone, attention still mostly on the board. Maybe it needed some string. Or at the very least some of those flames Nimona had drawn and cut out for him to add.

“Mister Boldheart, this is Principal Conroy from Gloreth Elementary School.”

Oh no.

He didn’t quite manage to keep in his sigh.

“What happened this time?” he asked. He refused to say ‘what did she do now’, if only because Nimona usually had a reason for whatever chaos she wrought. Like trying to free the pet gerbil from ‘his stinky, tiny prison’ or punching a kid who made fun of her because ‘you couldn’t even get two normal foster parents, you ended up with two foster dads’.

Of course the school hadn’t done anything about the other kid. He was a legacy at the private school, and he’d ‘just been stating facts, after all’.

“It appears Nimona bit another child.”

Well, that was new.

“What did the other kid do?” he asked, knowing he wouldn’t get a straight answer until he talked to Nimona.

“Mister Boldheart, this school has a zero tolerance policy,” the principal started, and he pulled the phone away from his ear, mouthing along the words mockingly has he got his keys.

Part-way through her little rant, he cut her off. “I’m on my way,” he said, hanging up the phone before she could answer.

Nimona was sitting in what Ballister was coming to think of as ‘her’ chair. The one furthest away from the principal’s door. Her face was like thunder, arms crossed in front of her defensively. But it eased a little when she saw who was picking her up.

As much as he and Ambrosius tried the old Good Cop, Bad Cop routine, Nimona had very quickly learned they were both complete pushovers. And that while Ballister could be stern when it mattered, he wasn’t about to punish her for no reason. He’d always hear her out, and he’d always explain why a rule was a rule and why it shouldn’t be broken. (Or when it could be, under certain circumstances.)

Also, he was fifty per cent more likely than Ambrosius to take her out for ice-cream when she got suspended for no reason, again.

“What happened?” he asked, crouching down in front of them.

“Chad wouldn’t stop trying to poke me,” Nimona said. “I told him to keep his hands to himself or I’d bite him. It’s not my fault he didn’t believe me.”

“I never touched her!” Chad shouted from the other side of the hall. His hand was bandaged rather dramatically all the way down to his elbow. “I even said ‘I’m not touching you!’”

Ah. Ballister knew that game all too well from his own time at Gloreth Elementary. Being the scholarship kid had made him an easy target.

“Come on,” he said, putting his hand on Nimona’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“Don’t you need to talk to the Principal first?” they asked.

He did, but he really didn’t want to. Instead, he looked at the ancient secretary, who’d always had a bit of a soft spot for him when he went to this school. “How long is she suspended?”

“Just the rest of the week,” the secretary answered. It was Wednesday, so not too bad. “The Principal wants to have a serious talk with you, though.”

Ballister knew exactly what talk she wanted to have. It was the same one she’d had when they enrolled Nimona, suggesting that Gloreth Elementary had a rather rigorous curriculum, and perhaps ‘someone like Nimona’ would be better suited for a ‘less demanding environment’.

Another thing he remembered all too well from his own time at this private school.

Never mind that Nimona’s grades were at the top ten per cent of her class. Well, when she remembered to hand in her homework. And it was legible between the drawings of sharks and dragons and who knew what else. But still, it wasn’t the curriculum that was bothering her.

“I’ll send Ambrosius by tomorrow morning, after his shift,” Ballister said. Because suddenly, when The Golden Boy Legacy Kid himself stopped by it was much harder to say no, or that their kid didn’t belong here.

They walked out of the school, Nimona’s fuzzy pink book bag hanging from his good shoulder, her hand clutching the wrist of his prosthetic arm. They were already too far down the hall to hear the Principal call them back, and Ballister knew she was too dignified to run after them.

“Look, I get it,” he said once they were outside, because he really, really did. “But you can’t go around biting people.”

“Why not? He deserved it,” Nimona said, sulkily kicking at a pebble.

“Because you don’t know where his hand’s been, it’s gross.” Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best argument for not biting people, but it was one that was probably most effective for this particular kid. He and Ambrosius could sit her down and explain why biting people was morally wrong some other time.

Nimona was silent for a moment, before sticking out their tongue and running her own hands over it. “Blergh, you’re right!”

See? Effective parenting.

“How do you feel about milkshakes and a stake out?” he asked.

“A stake out?” The hunched shoulders and frown disappeared, replaced by a bounce and a bright, sharp smile. “Who’re we taking down?”

“Nobody just yet,” he said. “But I could use a sidekick following one of VerdAgra’s employees.”

“Yes, boss!” Nimona cheered, all but throwing herself into the passenger’s seat. “Can I have a chocolate-peanut butter-caramel milkshake?”

“Sure thing,” he said, even though that sounded like a lot. Nimona beamed and rummaged in the dashboard console to find their Stake Out Sunglasses, handing him his own. Because you couldn’t do a stake out without them, of course.

Tonight, he’d have a talk with Ambrosius about how maybe Gloreth Elementary and Gloreth Prep weren’t the best place for Nimona. Not because she couldn’t handle the curriculum, but because the school had no interest in stopping the bullying of anyone they deemed lesser. He didn’t want her to suffer the way he had. Sure, he’d gotten into a great university at the end, but had it really been worth it?

Maybe homeschooling was an option. Or another school. Anywhere that didn’t try to crush his kid’s amazing spirit, natural curiosity, and sense of self.

“Can I tase him if he tries to run?”

“No!”

#nimona #I wrote a thing #fanfic #kid!fic #where did this come from I do not know #someone asked me months ago if I wrote for Nimona and it's been percolating ever since #of course Innybrain was like: okay what if... foster care kid fic #ballisterxambrosius #AUs are awesome #SHE'S HIS SIDEKICK #she doesn't call him dad but she does call him boss which means Ballister is winning the dad game really #ambrosius is stuck with 'the shiny one' or 'mr fancy hair'#let nimona bite people if they deserve it #ballister is an investigative journalist #he really really likes making conspiracy boards okay they help with his process #nimona 'helps'

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ranticore · 19 hours ago

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About the kid raised by harpies, we have a rough story to explain how they ended up there (it got a lot longer than I thought it would omg): A pen has her eggs stolen, she is able to see the man who steals them but he ends up escaping. This event causes her partner to completely lose faith in their king, believing she could do a better job, and she eventually turns into a king herself, defeating him and taking the pen as a tiercel. As the pen has always been very active, and could barely keep herself still in the tiercel nest at all, they make a deal: she will be allowed to patrol the areas around the eyrie, as long as she's never far enough to disappear from view, never hunts and immediately comes back at any signs of danger. One day, as she's observing a human caravan passing by, she sees a very familiar face… With him, a woman, and in her arms a baby, who they lovingly look at. She follows the caravan further and further, waiting, watching… when an opportunity arises, she snatches the child and flies away with it, back to the eyrie. Her king is incredibly worried when she's back, looking for any sign of injury. What happened? What were you thinking? What would I do if you- wait what is that She explains what happened, and argues that it's only fair that she keeps the human's child after he took hers. She wouldn't be doing anything vital anyways, as it would only take away her time and resources from the flock, but it would be a great distraction from her boredom, keeping her closer to the eyrie. Besides, what other flock has a human in its midst? What a novelty for him to show off! His flock is so prosperous that they can not only keep tiercels but also raise a being from a completely different species just for the fun of it! In the end, he gives in, letting his beloved keep her "hobby project". btw we've thought of calling the kid "Five Talons", since, well, five fingers and all (also it sounds cooler than Five Digits). The first name we came up with was "Stolen Goods" though, I really liked it but friend noticed that it sounded a bit mean dskmfd What do you think? :] I would appreciate some help with naming the pen and the king as well... I'm almost done drawing the first one, may I send you the drawing through a message?

Ahh so sorry it took me a while to get to this!! Yes of course you can dm me any time and I can help with the naming if you like

This story is so funny honestly I'm completely on board... I especially like the angle of "well look, isn't it kind of a flex to raise a human child as well as we're doing?" because that's really. That's just how they think all the time, you always have to be showing off it's just like the law.

Also I'm thinking of this sort of almost parent trap (?) type situation going on here where both stolen babies are sort of being raised in parallel in a sense, by parents who have had their true child stolen from them, so I wonder what types of experiences they may have in common (and whether they might ever be able to meet and bond over it? Like here's a sibling you never knew you had... or instead would they hold the other responsible for their own situation, the hurt of their parents, etc. Much to consider!!!).

Bearing in mind that a stolen harpy is likely not going to a very prestigious town flock, otherwise there'd be no need to resort to theft, it would likely be in more of a similar situation to the human kid than you'd think - raised entirely by a different species, lacking a 'role model' of a sort, potentially not even knowing that other harpies/humans exist, and thinking of themselves as perhaps uniquely weird (in either a positive OR negative sense, i could see both). The difference being that the baby harpy would be raised into servitude, and the baby human is being raised to show off. Both ways are dehumanising (or deharpyising?) in different directions, obviously one has it worse but being placed on a pedestal of your adoptive parent's rage and pain can't be fun either.

#ice storm over kosa #five talons also. very very cute #hi sorry i didn't mean to make a cute idea angsty it's just how i am

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glitter-stained · 22 hours ago

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Sense the current state of jason as character is stagnant do you think dc will ever purplish a good story of him, maybe he even kills of his red hood persona and goes on to be something else that would be something I would like to see but I don’t think it will happen. Dc will forever shoehorn him in to the batfamily. At least in his anti-villian era he was actually fun now his character is in a pitiful state

do u think theirs a chance of reinvent him as character anytime soon ?

Well first of all through spite everything is possible, so jot that down.

Like seriously, remember when it was so so incredibly over like Spiderman's Uncle Ben levels of over and then Under the Hood happened? Hell yeah I think dc will publish a good Jason story

Second I may not be the best person for this ask because I like my blorbos pitiful and miserable. Like yeah defiance is awesome but exhaustion -in characters who have been angry and alone for so long, beaten dog who got electrocuted too often to bite back- has a special place in my heart. But I also agree this has to be a transitional part of a story, the arc can't be "well he was hurt and then he was angry and then he was tired and he was miserable the whole time". Unless of course he ends up perma-dying in a really meaningful arc centered around his character but I'm not sure that'd be what I want for him, and we all know how lame dc is with permadeath nowadays. I'm also very mitigated with his villain side because yeah sometimes it's very fun and cathartic to see the angry/bad victim trope, but also the classismXpsychophobia of villain Red Hood sometimes are just too much; and also I'm a jaybin fan and sometimes I feel betrayed on jaybin's behalf by elements of his villainous characterization. (One day I'll write that damned UTH rewrite, I will).

With that being said!!! I love Jason because of his potential, he has so so much of it, that's what's exhausting about his many bad comics is that yeah. Yeah, dc can absolutely publish something more than good. They don't understand the goldmine they're sitting on in terms of potential.

What I'd love to see explored in hypothetical upcoming good comics (i'll talk more about it later with malfiora but for now)/how dc could go about reinventing his character :

1) addressing Jason's suicidality and getting him a functional support system (seriously, something's gotta give)

2) Get that boy a dog. Ik he had one at some point in N52 idc give him more dogs. Big ass rescue dog that's loyal and similar to him.

2) we need to figure out a way to let Jason keep being a Crime Alley/Park Row vigilant without being dependent on Batman. Like yeah he should explore the world away from him and heal but also i'm very uncomfortable with the idea that healing, for Jason, has to mean leaving the city and neighbourhood he grew up in and protected, has to mean be shoved out of his home by a guy who doesn't live there and, at least when Jason was a kid, only visited the place one time a year because of the anniversary of his parents' death- it's not fair and I won't accept it.

3) I so so agree about the "killing the red hood persona" or at the very least changing his vigilant name. Like I get the point, I understand the use he had for him, but his story can't be centered around the Joker forever (I keep thinking about the Joker's attitude to him in The Man who stopped Laughing and god, I can see a driving force to find himself as something else than what Batman and the Joker made him). At some point his name has to become something that is his and turned towards the future.

4) art + story that acknowledges how young he is (someone please let Jason take college class please please he deserves it)

5) perhaps most importantly: batman writers often sound like hardcore deontology or hardcore utilitarianism (and the occasional egoism) are the only acceptable moral philosophies. And for characters, it works! Like I can see Batman as a Kantian, sure. But for others, it doesn't fit as well.*

The cool thing about Jason's character right now is that he's a utilitarian, but a utilitarian that often isn't guided by his values. He can and will compromise on his philosophy in the name of love and being loved ( @bestangelofall called that a morality leash) and that already sets him as an interesting character in his own right. But in terms of redefining himself as a person after decades of defining himself through his pain (which, at 20-23 years old, he should get to do) I'd love to see an evolution of his morals based on love. Specifically, I'd love from his morals to shift from mathematical utilitarianism to agape, an ancient greek concept of platonic love for everything human, a movement towards the other that can be thought of as close to some conceptualisations of empathy. Mind you, that doesn't mean that he would stop killing! I can believe in a Jason who kills because or against of agape, the pain or relief that could be so good to explore in relation to that, how he would go on to define himself as a person... I feel like Jason has a certain tendency to kinda dehumanize the worst criminals as he kills them (a lesson from Judy, love her sm) which I love, but would also love to see him grow out of - learn to see and love everyone as human and what it means, a re-exploration of his empathy.

Imagine: a scene where he kills a guy because a kid victim begged him to. The focus on the image is on the kid's big wide tearstruck eyes, and then Jason's uncertain face, the kid begging him to kill the bad guy. And then Jason kills him and they're standing so close to eachother, and he's look him in the eyes and seeing the image of the kid's eyes, and then turning back to the kid while wiping the blood on his face and seeing the kid's wide eyes looking in disbelieving awe. And then kneeling and hugging the kid as he cries his heart out. And Jason's inner monologue during all that being something like "I could say that I killed him because I'm a bad guy; I probably am. Or argue the world is better off without scum like him; I could pretend I did it so he wouldn't hurt [x] again, or that I was thinking about all the other children he wouldn't be able to hurt anymore. But the truth is, I didn't. I killed him because [x] asked me to; because I could tell that he needed it. I can live with that."

Idk, that's the direction I would love to see it going, but simply "becoming even more open, louder and unapologetic about prioritising his love over his values, and being angry when it causes him dilemma" is something I'd love with as way. Very "Odysseus knows what he's going to choose the moment the gods tell him to throw the baby off the wall to see Penelope and Telemachus, but fuck if he's angry at the gods for making him make that choice" kind of vibe if you like Epic the musical.

*i'm not saying there aren't any characters in dc that fall out of this deontological/utilitarian false dilemma, it's just a vibe I get from batman writers at times, and as a consequence of specializing in one character I don't feel legitimate in exploring the intricacies of other characters because I feel like I'm lacking information and would be making uneducated guesses (that being said, I would fuck heavily with an exploration of Cass' morals VS Levinas' concept of ethics). If anybody has recommendations of dc characters that are neither utilitarian nor deontological (or are at least an interesting twist to it) I would love them so much please don't hesitate!!!

So yeah, idk if that answers your question, I don't pretend to know the intricate working of dc editorial. But imo there are wonderful possibilities for dc to reinvent Jason and write him into good comics -call me a blue lantern cause baby I got hope.

#jason todd #dc #red hood #dc comics #ask #did i need to go on a rant about philosophy? maybe not but it was fun #jason todd meta

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teaguehq · 1 day ago

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No, I get that because it's hard to reach out about these things sometimes! Though I feel like I've gotten better about that as I've gotten older, too. Which is a good reminder too, that the people who love us aren't bothered by us needing extra support. Of course, and we can't have enough support from people who understand that headspace, so why not help each other, right? And friends help each other! I can imagine, Jo's a hugely popular character, and so is that film! You played her beautifully. I appreciate the kudos, and he was certainly an interesting character to play for sure, though at least now I know better not to live in that headspace for filming rather than balancing it with other things, because my headspace was so messy because of him, and that lasted a while. I don't regret anything though when I'm happy for the way the show turned out. That makes me laugh so much though, because who'd forget Ireland is an island?! That's a bit like people being shocked I lived around beaches since I grew up in Florida. And I try to head back to Florida when possible since my parents still live there, and they'd protest if I stayed away too long! Please do tell me the best places since we can't have too many vacation places up our sleeves, especially between projects to unwind some. Thankfully my boyfriend's more kind than that, though he'd definitely be amused if that were happening and I were still walking and acting like an ape, which I couldn't blame him for! Everything about that was so much fun, just being on a playground every day where we acted like apes. I feel like my kid self would be so proud I got to do something like that. Are your parents good about not talking about your projects though? I always want to tell mine details about my projects too, but if I've been threatened on secrecy, I don't tend to tell them as much for being paranoid they may let something slip to a friend or the like. Though I'll tell my boyfriend since he's in the business and knows it's important not to say anything. I will, and I'd love to hear all about Bad Apples then! Well, I'm currently on set in Calgary, though I wouldn't make anyone show up with a cheerleading outfit given this weather right now! | @saoirseur

it really is rough -- and honestly, i'm someone that doesn't like to bring others down, so i'll internalize everything, which i know isn't at all healthy! and you're very right about that, when you're in that darker headspace, it's easy to think the worst and just assume you'll be a bother, even though deep down you're not. not a single person that cares about you would feel that way. which is sweet of you to say, and you know i'd offer up the same to you as well. i like the idea of us looking out for each other on that front, we'll be good friends for that! right? like when i got cast as jo, i was over the moon -- and thank you for saying you loved my jo, that means a lot. i'll admit that i've watched some films and have always wondered what it would be like to go that dark, but i still couldn't imagine myself doing that, you know? so i'm giving you all the kudos for playing harold and having to dive into his character like you did. and i can only imagine how easy it is to fall into that sort of headspace! i am pretty lucky, and it makes me laugh when i tell people i live on the beach in ireland and they're shocked, like they've forgotten that ireland is an island. i can imagine missing gorgeous beaches while you're in new york, do you get to go back to where you grew up a lot to visit beaches there at least? please, if you ever want to come to ireland for a vacation, let me know and i'll tell you the best places to stay! i'm glad you're doing well being a human, though i would laugh if your boyfriend wasn't telling you that you were walking like an ape randomly. however, i feel like he'd probably be a good boyfriend that would give you a heads up! i can just imagine how much fun playing with those ape arms was, though -- and working with them, of course! it really is, and my parents are who i always want to blab to first when i start a new project. and in my head, i'm like, they're not in the industry, who they going to tell? but yes, as soon as you can tell me anything about your new projects, please share them with me! though i can finally talk about my project, bad apples, that i've just finished filming! and thank you, i figured i needed the best outfit to be your cheerleader, so next time you're on a set, let me know and i'll show up. || @teaguehq

#( conversations. )#( with: saoirse ronan. )

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1920sladydectective · 6 hours ago

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Okay but… first of all I LOVE your writing. It’s amazing and I’m so hyped for the miniseries!! (Please tag me if possible 💖)

Would you ever write for a reader who is very good friends with Mel (maybe college or coworkers or just generally friends) and when she meets Ambessa she just has the biggest crush?? The forbidden-smut-overall tension would send me 💔

Hello sweetpea,

Thank you for all your support, you're a star. Here is part one of this University friend sex AU situation. I will be writing more and it will be an angsty, smut to love tension fest, for now this is the silly set up and initial sex. I hope you like! 4.2K, not proofread.

Ambessa is kinder here, as in modern worlds she couldn't be a warlord to me and I fancied making her a more playful, enticing woman like she can be in canon. She's still a bad parent but less so I guess?

I'm British and was picking Saltburn half the time lol

Writing slowed as my assignments killed me, hoping to get back to it without burning myself out

xoxo

WARNINGS: Drug use, Alcohol Use, Age Gap Sex, Best Friend's Mum sex, degradation and praise, silly uni kids being uni kids.

Mel’s offer to spend the summer at her childhood home was a blessing. With your mother gone and your father on an oil rig, you were not looking forward to spending summer alone in your hometown.

This was a little much however. She’d called it a bit over dramatic as you pulled onto a private road, but driving up you saw a stately manor with its own forest surrounding it. You called that rich as fucking shit. It loomed over its surroundings and if Mel was to be believed, its owner was much the same.

You knew Mel had money, though she was a generous and likeable person who was very open about it, she reeked of it without her open disclosures. The sleek Land Rover you had road tripped in was another obvious case, spacious for two and perfect for endless roads of Katy Perry blasting.

Somehow, despite the excitement, you knew staying here was going to have its troubles. Even if it was as small as getting lost on the way to the bathroom.

Mel’s mother was another thing to be tense about. She was exacting and harsh and apparently devoid of all love. Despite this Mel was happy to return home for the ten week summer, perhaps because she had you as a shield.

A man, a Butler, by the name of Rictus came out to greet you and collect your things, taking them to your respective rooms as Mel dragged you along on a half hearted, sarcastic tour. Her entryway was larger than your flat and it made you snort. Paintings worth more than you were fucking everywhere and of course she had a huge, regal looking cat.

“Mina is very aggressive,” Mel muttered, “I think it’s the only reason Mother tolerates her,”

“Hello Mina, I shall give you your space,” You said calmly, the ornate ball of fur screeching at you and running away.

Her departure heralded the matriarch, and Mel’s face stilled.

“Mel, my darling,” Her voice was amused, her stature and look mesmerising as she emerged from a side room, “I would have come to greet you had I known it was this afternoon you’d be arriving,”

“You did know,” Mel scoffed into her mother’s sudden and short hug, before rolling her eyes in your direction.

“And you must be Mel’s little friend, come to stay,”

“She has a name,”

You did and it stumbled out of your lips, an unsure smile on your face. Why did Mel’s mum have to be the hottest woman you had literally ever seen? “Thank you for having me, Mrs Medarda,”

“The pleasure’s mine, Dear,” Her sharp focus was solely on you and you felt suddenly very breakable, “I do hope you enjoy our hospitality,”

Mel gripped your arm, dragging you away with platitudes to her mother about seeing her at dinner. Once you’d made it to her (ridiculous, opulent, crazy) bedroom, she let out a huff.

“I’m sorry about her, she isn’t around a lot so we won’t have to worry about it too often,”

“It’s okay,” Your voice was calming, giving your friend a winning smile, “Anything beats an empty flat and working in a coffee shop,”

You began to regret that reassurance once you sat opposite Mel eating a bowl of french onion soup. It felt like you were intruding on a private moment, jabs and quips hidden behind flowery words as the Medarda women tore each other to shreds. It was the first time you’d seen Mel on the back foot.

Rictus seemed used to it, serving food and sorting through the house as their voices rose. You learned this was his last day before a long holiday and clearly he had decided it was not worth pitching in his opinions when Mel or Ambessa asked for them.

Instead, Ambessa drew you into the conversation against her daughter's wishes, tugging opinions from you about food and schooling and her house. Each one seemed to widen her smirk, golden orbs fixed on you. She felt warm, inviting to you, in the way a lion would. Majestic but deadly. Fatigued and stuck in a power struggle, you ate tiramisu in silence. Then Ambessa mentioned the party.

“Mother really,” Mel groaned, “Must you?”

“Must I have my annual summer party in my own house? Same as I do every year?” She scoffed, fixing her with a colder stare.

“I-I don’t know, could be fun,” It was clear in Mel’s eyes you were a traitor, though she wished to appease both friend and host.

“Exactly, thank you dear,” Her warm smile shone on you again, “and you girls can help me,”

“Of course,” Mel rolled her eyes, seemed you’d laid your bed and she would make you lie in it, “She especially would love that, she has an eye for culinary arts,”

What a lie. You burnt water. Ambessa didn’t seem to notice or care.

Several days passed like this, basking in the sun, swimming in the pool and being the unintentional deciding vote in Medarda madness. Kino, Mel’s brother, seemed to usually fill that role and favoured Mel constantly. You, however, were a more even bet and that seemed to delight Ambessa. Mel was right about the ridiculously large orchestra, Ambessa’s view on the food timings made more sense. This went on and on for the first two weeks as you settled into a routine. Ambessa seemed to be around constantly, far more than Mel was used to and Kino would not return until the night of the party. Everything seemed to be balancing as well as it could until the day the party arrived and you realised with a resounding slap to the soul that you had a crush on Ambessa Medarda.

It was fucked. You knew that. She was your friend’s mum and a scary, mysterious woman to boot. But she was also light and funny and beautiful. She made you feel special and considered and opened her home to you, lavishing you in a luxury you had never known. Sometimes it felt personal, like her eyes lingered to spark heat on your skin. Her hands would brush yours as she passed a plate at the table, she would leave tea for you on the kitchen island as you always rose just after her. It was maddening and probably in your head.

This dreadful, eye opening doomed, morning started with Mina the cat. Fruit tea firmly in your grasp, you made your way to the library. Instead of finding it empty, you heard Ambessa’s velvet tone, eyes catching the back of her as she stroked the bundle of evil fluff.

“Now, my little demon,” Ambessa muttered, “You have mutilated my favourite scarf and for that you shall suffer, how do you plead?”

Mina growled, nibbling on her long, strong, beautiful- nibbling on her fingers.

“I see, into the fire you go,” She muttered, faking a throw into the cold, ash coated harth as Mina skipped off under the bookshelves instead, “On the lam? I should have guessed,”

Your little snort travelled, her eyes snapping to meet yours as she raised an eyebrow. Whoops fuck.

“Another criminal in our midst,” She smiled, teeth glinting, “Though I’d say you’re less slippery, darling,”

Darling. Fuck. You were doomed.

It was then that the realisation had hit, and molten fear and excitement curdled in your stomach. She was muttering about how you could help her with party preparations, words smoothing over you like gentle waves as you nodded. Somehow you were in the kitchen again, in an apron more expensive than your car cutting carrots and listening to her hum Frank Sinatra of all things.

Mel didn’t come down until well past noon, obviously intentional on her part as you popped the last of the prepped food in the multitude of fridges. The rest was being done by caterers, but Ambessa had had you prepare her staples for the one hundred and fifty guests. You wondered how they’d all fit, but it was a stupid thought. She could have had thousands here with little trouble.

“Somebody has been a little Angel,” Ambessa said, voice light as she locked eyes with you, “and it isn’t you, Mel,”

“Spare me,” She sighed, eating a cereal bar, “Has she broken your spirit yet?”

“Can’t break what I haven’t got,” You quipped, looking away from the older Medarda with burning cheeks.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” It was quiet, blink and you’d miss it, but Ambessa had definitely muttered that in your ear as she wandered through to answer a call from the decorators.

Mel grinned, grabbing your hand, “We need to go and get ready, buy lunch out and get space before we’re swallowed whole by mum’s elitist world,”

You followed after her to the car, not having the heart to mention she was firmly one of those elitists herself.

When you returned, nails and hair freshly styled upon Mel’s insistence, there was a red Bently in the drive. Your friend practically threw herself out of the car, hip bashing on the door as she ran inside.

You were met with a tender reunion, brother and sister rambling over each other as Ambessa leaned against the doorframe with a grin, her eyes caught yours for a moment before she embraced her two children.

Slipping away, you gave them their space as you rifled through your clothes and hung up your dress. It was pretty, it would suit you and it was now the nicest thing you owned. Guests would be arriving in an hour and you used the lull to enjoy your own thoughts, makeup applied with deft hands.

Knowing what you knew about your feelings, it would have been wise to prepare yourself for the sight of an even more fancy Ambessa. You didn’t and so naturally you nearly died. It simply wasn’t right, how ethereal she was. You licked your lips, heart smashing against your ribs as you came to rest at the entrance. Like a line of prize animals, Ambessa had lined up her children and it seemed from her waving hand, you were to participate in this presentation. Kino was all crinkles and kind laughs, instantly making him likeable. Somehow, he still stayed your third favourite Medarda, and it felt like a betrayal to debate who held the first spot whilst the daughter held your hand playfully and the mother’s eyes ran over your exposed legs.

Bollocks.

The greeting system felt archaic and yet entirely Medarda. This was the upper echelons and you were a pretty little ornament of the working class to be questioned and nodded at patronisingly. Ambessa had smiled in her swirling red wine several times at orange housewives’ pitying glances as you mentioned your plans to work after university. God forbid. It took an hour and a half for people to trickle in, all seemingly knowing your name as apparently it had been included in the hosts section of the invitation. Mel was best at schmoozing, leaving you and Kino to trade glances and giggle at each other.

There was little to be done after that, with every Medarda’s attention divided as you floated in the background, having insanely good food and drinking enough to kill a horse. When the condescension became too much you retreated to the empty games room, finding an equally reclusive Mina. It seemed that today for whatever reason she was willing to tolerate you, stealing nibbles of your salt and vinegar crisps as you sat curled in the glow of the fairy lights. It was odd to rest in a beanbag that wasn’t lumpy and ripping at the seams, the leather supporting you perfectly

“Enjoying the party?” Sweet silk asked, wrists melodic with bangles.

“Yes Ambessa, of course,” You rushed out, “It really is marvellous,”

“Don’t lie, child,” She says with a snort, joining you on an opposite beanbag, “They’re a bunch of shits and yet they give me lots of money, so here they sit rotting away the soul of my house every summer,”

It felt rich coming from her and yet you nodded like you understood. Her hand moved in a sweeping arch, a thickly packed joint suddenly appearing in your eyeline.

“Let’s make it more fun, shall we?”

You laughed, loud and unbidden. You were going to smoke with Ambessa Medarda. There was no way in hell you would say no, whether it was a trap or not. An unnecessarily fancy gold lighter lit the end as she sucked it between those plump crimson lips, leaving a pretty ring for your own to rest upon. It felt seductive, how your lips caressed where hers had laid, your own tinging a slight pink as you passed it back and forth.

This was some quality shit, even you knew that. It was easy to tell because it was blowing your fucking socks off. Everything swam in a pleasant buzz, as she murmured tale after stupid tale about the party’s attendees until you were howling with laughter, tears leaking out of your eyes.

Ambessa liked you like this, unbidden and open as you basked in your amusement and relaxation. If she had known seeing you like this would be easy, she would have offered you drugs your first day. When she said as much, her tongue a little looser, you giggled again as you finished the joint.

You were useless after that. She wore it better, all it did was make her calmer, tone more sultry. You were in awe of her, and Mina clearly didn’t care for your harsh tugs as you hung on her every word.

Mel found you forty minutes later, higher than the empire state building with a plate piled high with goodies for you and Ambessa to share.

“Fuck off,” Mel growled, eyes widening at her mother’s easy smile, “You’ve left me alone to host so you can soak my friend in drugs?”

“I soaked too, Mel, I’m not mad,”

You giggled, half choking on a brioche stuffed with lobster. Mel silenced you as you inhaled an olive.

“You could handle it, Dear,” Ambessa said affectionately, “You always were my little social butterfly,”

“I thought I was a fox,” Mel snapped, “You look less like a wolf and more like a malfunctioning hyena,”

That set you off again, your hand covered your mouth as your shoulders shook. This seemed to be the final straw for Ambessa as she fell into giggles too.

“I-” A loud huff, “Damn you both, I hate you,”

Mel stormed out, leaving you behind to recover from your mindless adventure. It took another hour, evening beginning to beckon, before you were coherent.

“What a nice little break that was,” Ambessa said, body overly close to yours, “But dinner is looming and my daughter is unfortunately right, I must host,”

The rest of the party was spectacular in your eyes. Kino found you, half sobered up, and dragged you into beer pong with his friends. It was clear this was less approved by the hidden nature of the location, wrapped in the hedge mazes. That seemed a disaster, drunk kids in their twenties stuck in a maze, but it was so fun you hardly cared. Mel was looser too, her friend Jayce and Viktor had popped by, opening her up like a hesitant flower.

“I hope Mum wasn’t awful,” Mel muttered as she cuddled into your side on a bench in the maze, “You seemed quite chummy,”

“I-I know she isn’t always good to you, Mel,” You muttered, lust and infatuation receding slightly as you gazed at your friend, “I’m sorry if I upset you by hanging out with her,”

Mel paused, flicking a leaf off her skirt as she snuggled deeper into you, “I’m quite glad actually, it’s made her more tolerable, and despite her faults, she can be fun”

Your eyebrows rose, surprised at the admission. Their relationship was strained, but seemed in a drunken haze that was easier to process.

Dinner, the actual sit down portion in the huge marquee, was exquisite. You were on the head table, nestled between Mel and Kino as everyone laughed. The amount of odd, worship dances that happened around Ambessa was unnerving, but her still relaxed shoulders made you snort.

As the party continued and the sky was painted a deep red, Mel tugged you into an aggressive dance than had you toppling and rolling down the large hill, grass stains staining your clothes.

What a great summer. Even if you did want to fuck her mum. Shut Up.

The next morning you were less elated. You had no memory of getting into bed, though you were half in your covers with water on your bedside table. Whispers echoed, too far to reach, a tender kiss to your temple.

The culprit was rather obvious once you stumbled into your bathroom with a yawn. Sharp, clear red lips rested against your skin as they had the joint, making your heart flutter. Hesitant fingers grazed it, matte colour coming off on your fingers as an echo refined in your memory.

“Sweet dreams, Pretty girl,”

You scrubbed it away reluctantly, stomach swimming.

The entire grounds were pristine, cleaners having come in as people left in droves in the early morning. It was now late afternoon, the sun well past its warmth peak for the day as you forced down a salad and some bread. Health, greenery, water. These demands your body cried bitterly, who knew weed and wine was bad for you?

Mel and Kino were in a similar way, becoming one with the sofa as friends played bleakly on a screen that blew out the quality in a ridiculous way. You curled under Mel’s arm, yawning.

“She lives,” Kino mutters, flicking your ear, “You did a backflip off the pong table, or at least tried to,”

Mel started to laugh, nodding at your baffled expression, “Mum caught you and send us all to bed like naughty teenagers,”

“Really?”

“No,” Kino scoffed, “She called you a half brained twat and took you to bed,”

“Fantastic,” You groaned, there went your chances, not that they’d ever really existed, “Where is she? I need to apologise,”

“Away, work trip for four days,” Mel nibbled against a pretzel, the salt soothing, “She said no parties whilst she’s gone, hypocrite,”

There was a party and your behaviour was infinitely worse, almost ridiculously so.

Mel and Kino’s friends were eclectic, a mixture of posh and poor that mingled like oil and water yet it seemed to work. A blue and pink haired couple tried to eat each other’s faces as Kino did obnoxious tricks into the pool. Vile, candy flavoured vodka mixed with champagne blurred everyone’s vision as you suddenly felt like a reckless teenager. You’d never had this phase and now you were living it in a random manor house in the Surrey outskirts.

Still, as the hours ticked by you missed her murmurs to Mina, your morning tea being prepared and her knowing, conspiring glances across at you. You missed the burn of your skin as she entered a room, her spiced and strong smell. You missed her.

When Ambessa returned, she did not seem to suspect anything, weathered from business and silent throughout dinner. You tried to prompt some amusement, though all she gave you was an arched brow or eye roll. Though she joined in on movie night, she curled up alone on a chair with Mina, reading through documents as she went.

Hours later, wrapped in Egyptian cotton, you felt restless. There was nothing to do but shake the energy out. Ambessa lingered in your thoughts. Perhaps she was angrier about your acrobatics attempts that you’d prepared for, or had grown bored of your overly sarcastic, childish antics. You yearned for her, crush firmly cemented like a rough pebble in your stomach, slamming down as a reminder with each movement you took.

Your multifaceted hunger led you to the pretty kitchen, the whole house still as you tiptoed in.

Or so you’d thought.

Ambessa stood, swaying slightly with a glass of wine in her hand. She looked different like this, undone from nonsense as she fell away to reveal the sharp mind beneath.

“Just going to stand there, little one?”

You gulped, “I’m sorry to bother you,”

“Now, when did I say that?”

“You didn’t,” You conceded with a nervous grin, “I just didn’t realise anyone was awake,”

Her gaze fixed on you fully then, golden swirls captivating, “What did you need?”

“Food,” You blurt, “Was just going to grab some crisps or something,”

She moved into motion at once, flickering on the hob light, “I’ll make you something,”

You shook your head, stumbling platitudes about her kindness and your ability to sort something.

“For god sake, girl,” She huffed, tone amused, “Let me do as I please in my own home,”

That shut you up, her hips moving side to side as she assembled various things. The lull you had created did not last for long, she seemed far more talkative than hours earlier.

“There is one thing I have yet to tell my children,” A spoon smashed against porcelain, “I had the house fitted with cameras just before you all came home,”

Cameras, that was a safe investment. You were honestly surprised she didn’t have them befor- The fucking party.

Another nervous laugh leaked out, “I-I see,”

“I’m not cross with you, Dear,” A glug of oil, a crunch of pepper, “Or them, really. I am not an idiot, though it did reaffirm one thing,”

“What’s that?” Your heart was hammering into your lungs, making your voice oddly airy.

“You haven’t got any common sense,” She snorted, sliding a glass of wine your way, “Backflipping off of my pingpong table and then swimming paralytic two days later,”

You blushed, taking a small sip, as you nodded, “My mother used to say my head wasn’t on right,”

Ambessa nodded, eyes taking on a dark glint as she turned back to the bowl of marinade, “Then do allow me to screw it back on for you,”

It felt weirdly erotic coming from her, your stomach tensing, your blood boiling. The pan was put away again. What the fuck was she making you?

She appeared in front of you, “Here, eat your food before it goes sour,”

There was nothing in her hands, you didn’t understand.

Her once bare lips now glistened slightly with spices, smirked fixed on her face, “Come along, wouldn’t want to upset your hostess when she’s gone to so much effort,”

Warm, firm lips met yours as you felt every sense turn into a white, blank nothingness. She’d offered herself as a meal and you ate like a woman starved. Each lick was salty and hot, her taste mingling with the chili oil until it was only her, blissfully her. Her hands were rough and assured, tugging open your shirt till all the buttons popped off. You needed her, all your worries melting against her tongue as she groped against your chest.

“You just need some instruction,” Her ragged voice purred, “Someone to obey,”

You felt yourself gush, eyes fluttering as you nodded pathetically against her.

Ambessa’s tongue against your nipple had you mewling, body twitching as she shushed you. You didn’t want to be loud, lest she stop, but gods was it hard when she twirled your nipple over calloused fingers. She had you shivering, trembling and gasping within minutes, eyes glazed as your wildest sex fantasies were smashed down in rating by the real fucking deal.

Her words were ambrosia, drenching you in joy as she called you some of the most disgusting things you’d heard perhaps ever.

Being fucked against a kitchen island by your friend’s mum hadn’t been in your summer bucket list and yet here you were. Her fingers were wicked, ruining you as she suffocated your moans with her free palm. You had already leaked onto yourself and the floor, but it wasn’t enough for her.

“Good girl, taking me so well,” She muttered, “You can’t resist it, can you? Slave to your own cunt,”

Your reply made no sense, and she laughed against your neck, nibbling and lapping at the bead of sweat there. Your thoughts meant nothing, she was right, you were truly a slave to your physical self. By the time she had you squirting against her palm, you would have mindlessly walked over hot coals for her, cumming all the while.

Her cunt, perfect and warm, crushed your face as she managed to sit atop you on the island. It was the sort of core memory you didn’t expect to make, your practiced tongue working in overdrive to please the goddess above you.

Her whines and grunts were delicious, as was her dripping wetness, as she tugged your hair with a selfish, possessive vice grip. Her orgasm ripped through her, her back arching as you managed to twist her nipples in return for her earlier fondling, her eyes rolling.

Slipping off of you with a grin, she tossed you a damp cloth and wiped herself down.

“Sweet girl,” She slurred in your ear, placing a kiss there, “Knew you’d been a fun toy,”

It would have made your cunt flutter, it would have forced you into a passionate and sweaty round two as you lose your mind to pleasure again, if it weren’t for the fact that you actually sort of really, very seriously liked it.

But you? You were just a long line of sweet little fucks and you’d betrayed her daughter to join the notch on her bedpost.

Fucked. Doomed. Shattered.

#ambessa x reader #reader insert #ambessa medarda #arcane ambessa #ambessa smut #arcane

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