#I’ll come back n update the tags later

[cakeflesh]

alright peepaw time to go to bed

[starmapz]

what you know - ch13: tribulations || r. sukuna

❦ ryomen sukuna x f!reader [college au] [ongoing series]

❝ you've heard his reputation and you've seen first-hand the way he's late to class if he even bothers to show up. paired with him for the most important project of the year, you choose to give him the benefit of the doubt- but maybe that's more than he deserves when your perfect grades depend on him, or maybe there's more to the aloof and irritable sukuna than meets the eye. ❞

❦ cw ; mdni, 18+ only. contains explicit sexual themes and content. use of alcohol. use of cannabis. use of nicotine/cigarettes. angst. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. minor injury. family trauma. smut. slow burn. anxiety. panic attacks. mentions of difficulty eating. legal drama (likely with inaccuracies). tags will be updated as series continues.

❦ additional tags ; college parties and themes. sukuna ooc warning as this is a realistic take on modern sukuna. reader is fairly preppy and implied to be smaller than sukuna, but he's 6"11.

❦ words ; 16.2k.

❦ a/n ; it's heeeere!! so before everyone reads i just wanna give a small update. chapter 13 and 14 were written all at once and ch14 should be ready in about a week. they were originally intended to be one chapter, but 36k words felt unreasonable for a single chapter LOL, so i've split them in two. they do read somewhat as a part 1 and part 2, so the second part of the legal battle will be out next week. as well, please note that the legal details are heavily based off of a mix of canadian and australian laws and processes, so it may not match up with your local laws. with that out of the way, enjoy!

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

The sound of your text chime has you cracking your eyes open before dawn even breaks. You hardly even recognize the sound, so accustomed to having your phone on vibrate. With a weak groan, you flip onto your side, peering at your phone.

It’s not even six in the morning yet, and you barely got home by midnight.

Your eyes slip down to the message previews, and you frown. Taking a moment to let your body adjust to being awake, you plop down on your mattress, draping your arm over your eyes. In hindsight, probably not the greatest idea as you jolt back awake when another text arrives.

Pulling your phone off the charger, you squint at the bright screen.

5:39 AM Kuna || yujis awake

5:39 AM Kuna || he keeps banging on their door but cho wont answer

5:52 AM Kuna || sorry

Dragging your hand over your face in an effort to wake up, you stare at the messages once more before typing your response.

5:54 AM You || Why are you sorry?

5:55 AM You || I’ll be there soon

His response comes fairly quickly in spite of the chaos you’re sure is taking place in his apartment.

5:59 AM Kuna || its early and shit

Pushing yourself out of bed to get ready, you find a small smile pulling at the corner of your lips.

6:01 AM You || I told you to text me, didn’t I?

6:02 AM Kuna || yeah

6:02 AM Kuna || thanks

That’s the last message you receive from him as you shower, put on a hardly noticeable amount of makeup, and throw on a comfy pink hoodie and leggings. If you could drive in a cocoon of blankets, you’d probably do that too, but you digress.

You’re standing in front of his door barely a half hour later, having gotten ready faster than ever in an effort to help. You’d definitely figured Yuji would sleep in longer, but Sukuna isn’t a particularly lucky man, so here you are before the sun has risen.

The look on his face as you open the door speaks to his luck as well. Defeat is emboldened across his features, etched into the dark circles under his eyes. A white V-neck that’s so thin you can make out his chest and shoulder tattoos beneath it hangs over his shoulders, while a pair of black sweatpants adorns his lower half. They hang so low on his hips that you can make out the band of his boxers, and lord knows you don’t need your mind going any further than that.

He may be attractive, but at the end of the day, you can’t let yourself get hurt again. Not like that.

“Hey,” he grunts tiredly, swinging the door open as the sound of Yuji sobbing fills your ears.

Shooting him a sympathetic look, you follow him inside without a word, where he leads you to Yuji. The boy is slumped against the door to his and Choso’s room, tears and snot trailing down his face as he sobs and hiccups, calling out his brother’s name between wails. Sukuna clearly tried to calm him down, based on the blanket tucked around the little boy and the plush clutched in his hands, as well as a pile of tissues that surrounds him.

Your heart drops at the sight of the little boy who holds such a dear place in your heart so devastated as he cries out for Choso. You want nothing more than to hold both kids close and let them know everything will be alright.

With his eyes shut tight, the little boy hasn’t spotted you yet.

“How long has he been crying?” You whisper to Sukuna, trying to figure out the best way to work through the situation.

Sukuna casts a glance at his phone in his pocket. “Since five.” Tucking his phone back into his pocket, he sighs. “Don’t wanna pick the lock n’ force Cho out if I don’t gotta,” he shrugs.

In all honesty, you’re a bit shocked at how strangely calm he is handling the situation, as well as how reasonable he’s being. You can’t be sure what exactly it is that’s dulling his sharper edges, between the dejection in his tone, how long this has been going on, or the weariness plaguing every movement he makes. On the other hand, it’s those same reasons that have you worried for him as signs of life seem to drain from his eyes more and more each time you see him as of late.

You spend one more moment examining Sukuna before turning your attention to Yuji.

Leaning down in front of him, you finally gain his attention. His sobs turn to sniffles for a moment as he peers at you with a lidded expression, having completely exhausted himself already. He whispers your name questioningly between gasps as though he doesn’t quite believe it’s you, wiping his nose on the back of his hand.

“Hey sweetheart,” you greet him with a soft smile. Before you can even begin comforting him, in a flurry of blankets and arms, he’s clinging to your leg, gripping you with as much force as he can manage. With a sad smile, you hug him as best as you can with him stuck to your leg like glue.

“I- m-missed-” he sobs, gasping to catch his breath, “you.”

“I missed you too, Yu.” Your voice is tight as you rub his back gently, blinking in your best effort to keep yourself from crying at the sight of the sweet boy hugging you with all his might.

“Do you wanna tell me what’s going on, honey?”

He backs up an inch, wiping his face again with his hands. With a hiccup, he barely manages to get out a very broken explanation of what’s going on. “Cho-” a sniffle, “won’t-” a broken sob, “let me innnnnnn,” he bawls, his words devolving into full sobs once more.

Settling on the floor in front of him cross-legged, you extend your arms, offering him a hug that you’re sure he needs. He clambers into your lap in a flurry of tears, burying his face into your shoulder.

Maybe a pale pink hoodie wasn’t your brightest choice of clothes all things considered, but that’s the least of your concerns.

Quietly hushing the little boy, you hug him tightly and rub his back. His entire body shakes violently in your arms as he’s wracked with sobs, gasping for air between each one.

“Shh, it’s okay, honey.” Your voice is quiet and gentle, gradually soothing his sobs into quiet cries and gasps. Even as he begins to calm down in your arms, he doesn’t move, clinging to you like a lifeline.

Sukuna hasn’t moved either, frozen in place as he watches the way you effortlessly calm his brother down. He can only blink as he watches you, his mind moving too groggily, too slowly, to properly process just how well you understand Yuji. But really, it’s not just Yuji, is it? It’s Choso too, and even Sukuna himself.

Deep in thought, the tattooed man scowls to himself, as yet again he finds himself considering Uraume’s words. At least before the fight, you liked him, right? Do you still, now? Does this prove that? Does last night prove that?

His heart beats in his throat at the thought and he has to swallow to choke down the feeling, because it reminds him of a much bigger question he’s been avoiding.

Why is he chasing the answer like a damn bloodhound? Does he want you to like him?

His eyes trail the length of your back as he watches the way Yuji clings to you, his fingers buried in the fabric of your pink hoodie. Your shoulder is already stained in snot and tears, but he knows you don’t mind. You’re so painfully accommodating of his family that self-reproach constricts Sukuna’s chest and he finds himself unable to move. Unable to do anything but watch.

Time and time again, you’ve told him to reach out, that he should ask for help, even as recently as a few hours ago, and yet seeing you sitting on the floor before him doing something that he should be able to do himself sends guilt straight through his heart. With the full force of a fist, it hits his chest and knocks the breath straight from his lungs.

He knows he’s only one person, that they aren’t his kids and this whole situation has just been a case of winging it from the beginning, but this is the one thing he should be able to do as a brother.

Basking in his shame and frustration, he fixes you with a scowl that isn’t made for you. 

Why are you so selfless?

Why is he so selfish?

Why is he taking up all of your time when he has no right to ask for it?

Gritting his teeth, he scratches at his stubble-dotted jaw, finding the wherewithal to sit at your side on the floor.

You cast him a glance, surprise flickering in your eyes as he takes a seat beside you. His expression is more familiar, sitting somewhere on the spectrum of grumpiness, though you’re not sure where his sudden attitude came from. In this particular moment, that’s the least of your concerns.

Yuji shuffles back slowly to look at you with glossy eyes and puffy cheeks. “I- I-” He stammers between sniffles, wiping his tears on his sleeve. “I wanna see-” he hiccups, “- my brother,” though between all the tears and his sniffles, it comes out more like ‘bwother’. “Is he-” he sniffles, “is he mad at me?”

“No, sweetie,” you soothe, “I don’t think he’s mad.” You rub his back, leaning back to get a better look at him. His chest is heaving as he struggles to catch his breath, his eyes flickering every which way across your face as he tries to make sense of everything. Unfortunately he’s far too young and naive to figure out the bigger picture, which only makes everything more difficult. “I think your brother’s sad, Yu, just like you.”

He wipes his face again, a string of… saliva (?) sticking to his sleeve as he pulls back. “Sad? Why?”

You take a deep breath as you search for an answer that a five-year-old could understand. “Do you remember the person who came by to talk with Kuna yesterday?”

Yuji nods, hiccupping.

“Well, Choso didn’t like something they said.”

“Why not?”

You suppose you should have seen that coming. Children are always looking for answers where there are none.

“I don’t know yet, sweetheart. I’m gonna see if we can talk to him, okay?”

“Okayyy,” Yuji whines, rubbing his eyes.

“Why don’t you go sit with Kuna?”

Yuji stares at you for a moment as he contemplates your words before nodding, crawling off your lap in a bundle of the blanket he’s wrapped in. He grabs his plush tiger before slowly approaching his older brother.

Sukuna may not be able to provide the words his brother needs to hear, but he does still open his arms and let his brother cuddle into his chest. You shoot Sukuna a reassuring smile before pushing to your feet to knock on the door to the kids’ room. There’s no way Choso isn’t awake given Yuji’s wailing, and you’d wager a bet that he even heard everything you said just now.

Still, there’s no reply to your knock.

Turning back to Sukuna, you can see that Yuji is on the verge of tears once more and shoot him a reassuring smile before tilting your head to Sukuna. “Did Choso eat last night?”

Sukuna shrugs. “Dunno. I shoved some shit under the door but I didn’t hear him move.”

“Why don’t we make some breakfast and see if we can get him to come out for food and a talk? He’s gotta be hungry.”

Sukuna mulls over the option before nodding. “Y’want pancakes, Yu?”

“Yeah,” the boy sniffles, wiping his tears. “With lots ‘nd lots of syrup.”

Sukuna lets out something between a hum and a scoff, effortlessly setting his little brother on his feet and pushing up to his full height. “C’mon,” he urges, leading the way into the kitchen. You cast one last glance at Choso’s locked door before following Sukuna.

The brutish man begins gathering ingredients, setting them on the counter beside a large mixing bowl while Yuji grips the counter, just barely tall enough to see what Sukuna’s doing.

“Let’s get your hands washed,” you encourage Yuji, turning on the tap and lifting the little boy up so that he can reach the kitchen sink. Making sure he uses soap, you place him back down on the floor. He wipes his hands on his very messy hoodie, effectively negating anything the handwashing had done in the first place, but it’s not like you can get into his room to get him changed into something clean.

Sighing, you lead him to the table and lift him onto a chair. A bead lizard sits on the table in front of him, and he entertains himself with it for the time being.

Returning to Sukuna as he washes his hands, you follow suit, turning towards him to take the hand cloth from him.

“You’ve got a little-” you point at his shoulder, covered in stains from Yuji’s sobs.

Glancing down at his shirt, Sukuna grunts with a frown before evaluating your outfit. “We match,” he comments dryly, rolling his shoulder to emphasize the drying patches on your shoulders. “You need a new shirt?”

“Um-” you glance over at Yuji, before shaking your head. “No, I have a feeling these aren’t the last tears that’ll be on my hoodie,” you surmise with a tight-lipped smile, trying to keep light of a situation that clearly has the whole family worn to the bone, with nothing left to give.

Sukuna hums again, about to ask you to cut some bananas for the pancakes when Yuji turns towards you, weakly calling your name.

Turning your gaze to the little boy, you scoot a chair up next to him and give him your full attention. “What’s up, Yu?”

He sniffles, swallowing a lump in his throat. “Um- I made-” he pauses, holding the lizard he’d been playing with earlier up to you. “Made this for-” he stammers again, hiccupping, “-for you.”

Holding your hand out, you delicately take the bead lizard from him. One of its legs has four toes rather than three, and its tail is slightly lopsided, but it’s positively too cute.

“Um-” Yuji continues, his eyes dropping to his lap. “-but then you were-” as if the memory alone shakes him to his very core, his lower lip wobbles, parting with a sob. “-you were goooone,” he cries again, clinging to your side. It takes all of five seconds before he crawls off of his chair into your lap.

“Shhhh,” you soothe, smoothing his hair back off his forehead and rubbing his back. “I know honey, I’m sorry,” your throat is tight as he wails in your arms. “I’ve been busy with work and school, but I never stopped thinking about you, Cho, and Sukuna, you know that?” You tell him, leaning back in an effort to see his face. With puffy cheeks, he swallows a sob as he looks up at you. Holding your wrist out, you show him your bracelets, letting him fiddle with them. “See? I always had you with me.”

Sukuna’s spoon comes to a halt in the mixing bowl as he watches your interactions with Yuji. He damn-near drops the utensil too, fumbling with it until he can set it down. His heart doesn’t just flip or flutter as usual, no, it hammers in his chest when you utter something so sweet that it’s sure to cause him a cavity.

He lifts a hand up to his chest, the feeling of his heart beating erratically resounding through the tips of his fingers. His lips part as he stares down at the bowl in front of him, blinking at the half-mixed batter.

“‘M always with you,” Yuji repeats the sentiment in agreement with you between broken gasps and sobs, reaching up to fiddle with your friendship bracelets.

Sukuna can only watch the interaction from the corner of his eye as he struggles to run from something that he fears has been creeping up on him for a long time. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind sits a realization that he’s never once bothered with because it simply couldn’t be true. Now, though… His crimson eyes flicker towards you. Your features are soft as you smile for his little brother, giggling as the child gently tugs at the twine around your wrist.

A month. A full goddamn month you kept those on. You were resigned to never seeing Sukuna again and still, you kept them on. You never deleted his number. You kept him in your thoughts when your company had an open position. He knows you needed the help for your own gain, but he’s not foolish enough to think there’s no coincidence in the fact that you called him, let alone even thought about him.

He’d spent so long running that he’d never stopped to consider how he felt about all that.

His brow furrows as he turns his attention back to the batter, glowering as if it’s personally offended his whole bloodline. He doesn’t have the fucking time for this.

In an attempt to keep up his pace and continue running from his thoughts, he unsteadily grabs the spoon again and mixes the batter with a fervor that catches your attention as you cast him a questioning glance. He’s too busy scowling at the batter to notice, but you figure he’s simply stressed.

“Your big brother knows how to reach me if you kids ever need me, okay?”

You jolt at the sound of metal clattering behind you. Twisting in your seat, you catch a glance of Sukuna muttering curses to himself as he picks the spoon back up, his brow bunching up more intensely by the moment.

You make a mental note to ask him what’s up later, turning your attention back to the little boy on your lap as he slowly turns the twine tied around your wrist. His breathing begins to settle again, satisfied with your explanation as he explains the reasoning behind his color choices with the bead lizard. You listen intently, because if you don’t, his words sound more like hoarse mumbles, difficult to make out.

Yuji explains in great detail that he designed the lizard for you out of pink and purple beads, because those are the prettiest colors, just like you. You’re grateful in that moment that Yuji is too busy looking down at his creation and Sukuna is behind you, because tears finally do prick at the corners of your eyes. Yuji is positively precious and you can’t deny the fact that you adore him as though he’s your own family.

Maybe that makes things messy given your shaky connection to Sukuna, but you can be there if the kids need you, at the very least.

“Ready in two,” Sukuna mumbles behind you, barely audible.

“I’m gonna go talk to Choso, okay sweetie?” You gently let Yuji know as you set him back in his own chair. He nods, sniffling as he watches you head back towards his room.

Knocking on the door again, you wait to see if you get an answer, but there’s nothing. As far as you can tell, Choso isn’t even in the room.

“Cho?” You call gently, letting him know it’s you. “Please come have some breakfast. Kuna made you some pancakes.”

It’s deathly silent behind the door and you’re beginning to wonder if he’s somehow managed to run away, but that doesn’t seem feasible in an apartment. Not to mention that given what Choso’s upset about, you can’t imagine him leaving.

Trying again, you keep your tone gentle, but loud enough that you’re sure he can hear. “I’ve missed you, Choso. I’d love to see you,” you offer, but there’s not a sound to be heard. Frowning, you begin to wonder if picking the lock might be the only option. “Cho sweetheart, I’m worried about you. Remember when we talked about using words when you’re upset?”

From beneath the door, you just barely catch a hint of a shadow. Relief floods through you as you realize he’s there and listening to you.

Knowing that he can, in fact, hear you, you lower your voice to try to have a conversation more with him than the whole apartment. “It’s okay to need space, Cho, but it’s important to ask for it,” you explain. It’s moments like this that you can tell he’s learned a couple of bad habits from Sukuna. “Pushing everyone away when you’re upset isn’t good for you.”

The shadow beneath the door moves again.

“Do you want a hug, sweetheart?”

Click.

The door creaks open just enough to make out Choso’s face peeking through the gap. The room behind him is dark, the curtains drawn. He must have been laying in bed all night and morning.

You smile softly, pushing gently on the door to see if he’ll let you in. He hesitates for a moment before relenting, but the moment the gap is wide enough for Choso to slip through, he gingerly pads across the floor and hugs you.

Behind you, Sukuna and Yuji exchange a few words in the kitchen, followed by the sound of Sukuna’s footsteps behind you, but they stop a short distance away.

“I’m sorry,” Choso murmurs, silent tears trailing down his face as he hides his face in your hoodie.

“It’s okay sweetheart,” you soothe, holding him tightly. “I’ve got you.”

You don’t dare pull back first as he quietly shakes in your arms. He clearly needed this, but didn’t know how to seek comfort from Sukuna, and Yuji simply doesn’t understand.

Satisfied that Choso’s at least okay, Sukuna backs away to serve pancakes to Yuji, giving Choso whatever space he needs. Even if he’s guilty for entrusting this to you, he doesn’t have the luxury of being picky when it comes to his brothers’ well-being.

You can hear the clinking of forks and knives and occasional muttered conversation in the kitchen as the other two brothers eat breakfast. It takes a couple of minutes, but Choso’s breathing gradually evens out. With a final deep breath, he takes a small step back, his vision trained on the ground.

Smiling gently, you move his long hair from his face to see him better. He coughs into his elbow quietly, his voice hoarse as he speaks for the first time since last night, or perhaps even longer knowing the withdrawn child. “I thought you and Kuna weren’t friends anymore,” he murmurs, his voice cracking midway through his sentence as he wipes his tears.

“Why not?” You query, curious what Sukuna told him. Choso is far too smart for his own good if Sukuna didn’t say anything. Lying to the little boy about what happened isn’t your first choice, but you will if it helps his mental health.

He shrugs, though there’s clearly something on his mind.

“Everything’s okay,” you assure him, smiling. “What would make you feel better? Do you want breakfast, or do you wanna talk?”

“Can we-” he pauses, clearing his throat, “- can we talk?”

“Of course,” you assure him, turning to lead the way to the kitchen to talk with his brothers, but he stops you with a tug on your sleeve.

“Just you?”

Tilting your head sympathetically to his situation with his little brother and his horribly emotionally constipated older brother, you nod. He leads you back into his room, leaving the door open just a crack. You can hardly make out the floor with how dark the room is, hissing as you step on a toy dinosaur. It would be a triceratops you stepped on, wouldn’t it?

Shaking the horned dinosaur from your poor foot, you make your way to the window and crack it open. It’s still fairly early but dawn offers enough light that at least you aren’t stepping on the stegosaurus next, or the squished fruit snacks that Sukuna must have slid under the door.

Choso squints slightly as he sits on the edge of his bed. Taking a seat beside him, you’re able to finally get a good look at him. He’s still in a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, so you can only assume he laid in bed all night and couldn’t be bothered to change into pajamas. His hair is unkempt and oily, and his face speaks nothing more than utter defeat.

Though it doesn’t show much in Yuji’s personality (yet), it’s clear that Choso’s picked up a lot of Sukuna’s traits over the years. Unfortunately it seems that includes his tendency to shut others out and attempt to deal with everything on his own, which is just about the worst lesson he could have picked up from the eldest brother.

Choso kicks his foot out, his brow furrowed as he organizes his thoughts before speaking.

“Do you think Kuna can win?” He whispers hoarsely.

You can’t afford to hesitate as you reply. “Of course. He’s putting a lot of work into getting a good lawyer and putting together evidence.”

Choso nods, blinking down at his mismatched socks as he wiggles his toes in front of him. “I don’t get it,” he murmurs.

“Don’t get what?”

“Why she wants us.”

That’s a question you’re vastly unprepared for, and horribly devastated by. A child should never need to question their parent’s love. Is the right answer to comfort him and offer a reason she might want him, or to vilify her further when that’s clearly what Choso’s already thinking? Is there a right answer at all?

“I don’t have an answer for that, Choso,” you reply with painful honesty.

Choso’s brow furrows, scowling at the triceratops that nearly took you out. No wonder the poor kid locked himself away if his thoughts are plagued with wondering whether his mother even loves him.

And if she does love him, you’re sure he hopes she’ll let him go. No child deserves to handle this sort of pressure, or these sorts of thoughts. In the short time you’ve known Sukuna and subsequently his brothers, they’ve all been through a lifetime of hardship, and you can only imagine the things that would do to a twelve-year-old. He’s been forced to mature too quickly, and it’s apparent in the way that he struggles with the weight of that maturity that he doesn’t really know how to handle it.

Sukuna’s a good parental figure, at least where it matters, but he can’t teach either of his brothers how to handle something of this caliber when he can’t even handle it himself. He may have had a few extra years to grow accustomed to life, but he was still just a kid when he lost his dad. How was he meant to learn this lesson himself when no one was there to teach him either?

Choso’s eyes flit around the room in thought, but he doesn’t seem to know where to go with his thoughts or how to organize them.

“Do you want to talk about her?” You set the cards on the table, offering him the opportunity. You don’t want to push him into anything, but you hope he’ll heed your words about talking through his issues regardless. It seems to comfort him more than a hug, from what you’ve gathered.

The little boy is silent for a moment, rubbing one of his eyes with his knuckles. “Um- I don’t know what to talk about.”

“Anything,” you offer him a smile. “This is about you, Cho. I just want to help get your mind off of things.”

In the bleak darkness of the room as light very slowly begins to peek through the blinds, it becomes glaringly obvious just how much of a weight this little boy carries. It’s as though he thinks he has his own duty to uphold, one that he silently and without protest holds tight to his chest.

“I don’t remember her very much,” he croaks, clearing his throat. He kicks his feet a couple of times as he contemplates his words. “I remember playing board games with her and Dad.”

“What board games?” You query, keeping the conversation going.

Choso hums in thought. “Monopoly and Life,” he murmurs.

“Life is fun.” No comment on Monopoly.

Shrugging absently, Choso falls back into a steady silence. It’s hard to tell if he wants to stay on this subject at all given his curt replies, but between the raspy timbre of his voice and the fact that he seems to have repressed the memory of her, you can’t blame him.

“I- I really don’t remember her,” he whispers, shaking his head. He wasn’t that young when she left as far as you’d gathered that he shouldn’t be able to remember her at all, but the thought of him locking the memory away tightly feels painfully realistic. Maybe he’d even thrown away the key, given how distraught he is over the lawsuit. “She went on a business trip before Dad got sick, and- um- she never came back. Dad said she was making lots of money so we could be happy.”

Sukuna had never told you exactly what happened, just that she was gone the moment things got tough. She may have never been fond of Sukuna, but from what you can piece together, you can’t see why she wouldn’t like her own children. Still, you find yourself asking the same question as Choso previously had.

It can’t possibly be money that she wants the kids for. Sukuna’s made it pretty clear that the government aid doesn’t help enough to offset the cost of caring for kids, so it has to be out of love, right? Pettiness towards Sukuna maybe, but real love to be willing to take the kids back.

She sure has a funny way of showing her love, but you can’t possibly begin to imagine what else could bring this on.

Maybe she only ran overseas out of fear of losing her husband? It’s cowardly, but it’s the only explanation you can find in a situation where there’s no sense to be found.

Yet… didn’t Choso say she left before Jin got sick?

It doesn’t alleviate any of your doubts surrounding her motives.

“Did you talk to her on the phone?”

“Um- usually every week. When Dad did.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Really, what more can you say? There’s nothing easy about this situation, especially in the eyes of a child that’s been able to do nothing but sit back and watch as his life is decided for him.

When was the last time Choso really got to be a kid? Christmas?

Your heart drops at the mere thought.

“I miss Dad,” Choso mousily whispers, his shoulders dropping as a silent tear falls from his cheek, down the tip of his nose. He wipes another tear on his sleeve and yawns. You wonder if he slept at all last night in spite of being locked in his room. “Dad always knew what to do.”

That’s twice now that you’ve heard that same phrase from the trio of brothers. Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach at the hole his departure left in their family.

“Dads are like that. They’re good with advice,” you agree, doing your best to keep yourself neutral, letting Choso come to you with the details he wants to share. The more he can get his thoughts in order on his own, the better off you think he’ll be.

“He always made soup whenever we felt bad.”

With a lopsided smile, you tilt your head to look at the little boy. “Is that where you got your cooking skills from?”

To your surprise, something glimmers in Choso’s eyes. A hint of life. A hint of more than the dull fog he’s been cocooned in. He shakes his head with a hummed ‘mh mh’. “It was just in a can.”

“There’s nothing better than a plain can of soup when you’re sick.”

Choso nods. “Yeah. Or when you just feel sad.”

“Huh, I guess soup is a cure-all,” you hum in an attempt at keeping the air lighthearted. Choso’s opening up bit by bit and the last thing you want is to bog down the flow of conversation.

Choso begins kicking his feet consistently, bracing his hands on the edge of the bed. “Kuna makes good soup, too.”

“From a can?” You query.

Choso shakes his head.

“From scratch?” Your brows raise. It’s not that Sukuna’s a bad chef by any means, he’s actually got the craft down. In fact, your reaction doesn’t come from surprise at all. Sukuna’s a great chef, and if he had the money for the ingredients and the time to cook, you don’t doubt that he would go the extra mile to take care of his brothers. He already does if he can.

Your reaction is purely from the realization that Choso’s love of cooking likely doesn’t come from Jin. It comes from Sukuna.

“Um- I think so. I mostly just put things in the pot.”

You find yourself smiling at the thought. Choso loves cooking because it’s how he bonds with his older brother. Just like he loves Pokemon because it’s how he bonds with his younger brother.

“Kuna’s a good chef, isn’t he?” You encourage him, willing a reaction. To your delight, he blinks a few times and nods.

“The best,” he whispers.

Your eyes flicker up at the sight of a shadow under the door. Wood creaks beneath heavy footsteps that slowly retreat, the shadow dissipating. 

“Well you know, your chef brother made you some pancakes,” you tell him softly, moving a hand to rub his back encouragingly. “They’ll be cold if you don’t eat soon.”

Choso looks up at you now, a series of emotions flooding his worn out eyes. Sadness, uncertainty, confusion, and fear all swirl within deep brown irises. It’s clear he’s still braving the mess that is his mind, but he’s wading within the emotions rather than pushing them down until there’s nothing left to feel but emptiness. You’d much prefer this to the blank stares you’ve been getting so often.

He finally nods, finding it in himself to hop off of his bed to his feet as he heads for the kitchen.

“Can you hit the light?” You ask before daring to move a muscle. There may be more light than before, but that stray stegosaurus that you know is in here somewhere is too daunting to ignore. With the light on, you avoid stepping on any horned beasts or stray lego and follow after him to the kitchen.

Yuji and Sukuna still look like the better part of a disaster, obvious tear trails covering Yuji’s face, while Sukuna leans against the kitchen counter cutting a banana so slowly you’d almost think he forgot what he was doing. Because he has, in fact, forgotten.

The sound of footsteps pulls the man from his trance as he turns to see Choso. Relief flickers through his eyes as he shoots you a look that says thank you.

As Sukuna finishes up what he’s doing, Yuji cries out for Choso, hopping down from his chair to barrel into Choso at full force. Nearly toppling over, the middle brother embraces Yuji with a hint of a smile. It’s heartwarming, despite the tense air that continues to hang over the family.

Yuji’s words tumble out of his mouth in a flurry as he hugs the brunette, tears trailing down his face again. Choso may be the one who hasn’t used his voice for the better part of two months, but Yuji’s words are somehow more hoarse. “I missed- y-you, Cho, please-” he sobs, catching his breath in a flurry of gasps. “- Don’t leave me,” he gasps.

Your own expression falters as you feel uncertainty tug at your own heart strings. There’s a lot to unpack within Yuji’s words as well, and while you know most of the situation they’re in goes over his head, he’s a smart kid, too. You can’t help but wonder if he’s handling everything worse than he lets on.

“‘M sorry, Yu,” Choso mumbles between Yuji’s pleads, toppling down onto the floor as his little brother squeezes him tighter.

Sukuna remains silent as he sets down three more plates at the small dining table, cutting through the quiet only to inform the three of you, though mostly you and Choso, of breakfast. “Come eat,” he mumbles just loud enough to be heard over Yuji’s cries.

Neither of the boys are paying Sukuna any mind as Yuji hugs his older brother.

You take a step towards Sukuna as he opens his mouth, likely to tell them again that breakfast is ready. “Give them a moment,” you whisper softly. You lean in close enough to keep those words between the adults, but your close presence is gone before he has the chance to appreciate it.

And Sukuna, he’s just not sure what he’s even meant to make of that thought. When has he ever needed to stop to appreciate you being close to him?

He supposes since he tore into you over something that seems so trivial now.

He swallows hard as he turns his attention to his little brothers. You kneel beside them, gently rubbing Yuji’s back as you talk to him with so much care that Sukuna’s chest tightens.

“Your brother just needed some time to be alone, right Choso?”

The little boy nods.

“In the future if you need space, you’ll talk to your brothers, right?”

“Right,” Choso hoarsely agrees.

Sukuna scratches at the back of his neck. His brother’s voice sounds foreign to him in a way that he can’t quite identify. The twelve-year-old’s never been all that chatty, and he’s been quieter than normal since Sukuna had explained the lawsuit to them, but this is likely the longest single period of time he’s gone without so much as moving. He almost sounds sick. He almost looks sick.

Is Sukuna that bad of a guardian?

He averts his gaze to the large window by the table, pushing his worries down into the plague of other doubts he harbors. He doesn’t have the luxury of worrying about that, not when his opposition is a mother who didn’t even answer a call coming from her deceased husband’s phone.

The kids deserved better, but Sukuna has to remind himself that you’re right. You’ve told him time and time again and he has to start listening to you. His brothers want to stay with him. They love him.

And he loves them, too.

His gaze flickers to you as you smile at the boys. Sympathy, care, and something akin to sadness all swirl within your eyes as you take a seat at the table. Sukuna takes a seat beside you, leaning on his elbow.

As the boys both make their way to their respective seats and begin cutting into their pancakes (or in Yuji’s case, picking up a whole pancake on his fork and taking a bite), Sukuna can only watch in relief. He can’t remember the last time Choso and Yuji both seemed okay, despite the lines of dried tears running down their faces. Letting out a breath, he shuts his eyes as the air around him seems to lighten and he feels like he can breathe again.

You watch from your peripherals as Sukuna relaxes and finds it in himself to eat. His pancakes are more dense than yours and likely filled with protein, probably to make up for the fact that you rarely see him eating lunch.

Breakfast is silent, but words don’t need to fill the space for the meal to surround you all with an unspoken warmth.

Yuji finishes first between the boys, kicking his feet (im)patiently as he waits for Choso to finish.

“Will you play with me, Cho?” He asks, the moment the middle brother’s fork hits the plate.

Gingerly nodding, the two boys begin to hop down from their seats.

“Go change your shirt first, Yu.”

He turns to face Sukuna. “Why? This one’s clean.”

Sukuna’s lip curls in disgust. “No, it’s not. Go change.” He casts a glance at Choso, who’s still in yesterday’s clothes as well. “You too, Cho.”

Choso glances down at his clothes and nods, following slowly after Yuji to their room.

With an exasperated huff, Sukuna runs a hand over his face, shoving his plate forward on the table. There’s too many things on his mind and you’re at the center of them all. Hell, even the familial shit that you shouldn’t be a part of, he somehow ties back to you.

About to offer you a shirt again, he opens his mouth, but you voice your thoughts first.

“I should head out. Shoko and I are studying today and I need to get a couple of things together and printed,” you explain, picking up your plate and getting to your feet. “And change my hoodie,” you mumble as an afterthought, one step ahead of Sukuna.

As you set the plate in the sink with a gentle clank, Sukuna taps his fingers on the table with a grimace. A part of him wonders if you’re lying, though he has no right to think you might be. The only reason he even finds himself doubting your words is because he wants you to stay, which he realizes isn’t fair given your tense relationship.

Casting aside his doubts, he slides his chair out and gets to his feet. He trails after you, standing a short distance away as you throw your coat on and stand at the door.

If ever there was a time that the scar in your friendship was visible, this is it. There’s an ugly rift that stands between you, and for all the clawing and biting that Sukuna’s tried to tear through it, you patch it back up each and every time.

It’s not fair.

He wants to believe that, anyway. Every fiber of his being wants to believe that sentiment.

But it is. And he needs to live with that. If this is all you ever are to him, a distant kindness that exists in a vacuum of space that lives between you, then he supposes he can deal with that. He sucks in a sharp breath, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Silence stretches between you after pulling on your boots. Sukuna’s scowl is aimed at the floor, unable to meet your gaze.

“The court date is next week, right?” You finally break the silence.

“Yeah. Thursday.”

“Do you have any more meetings before that? Will the kids be okay?”

Sukuna inhales. Long, and drawn out. “Yeah. Uh- the lawyers exchanged documents n’ shit last week n’ ordered a house study. It’s Tuesday.” He pauses, mulling over the process. “Then the court date.” Pulling a hand from his pocket, he scratches the back of his head, unable to meet your gaze. Choso won’t be fine, he knows that much, but he can’t bear the thought of taking up your time anymore. “Yeah, they’ll be fine,” he lies.

His response seems off given his lacking confidence and frustrated scowl, but he’s always been tough to read, so you give him the benefit of the doubt, but there’s still one thing you made a mental note of earlier. “What about you?”

Something unrecognizable flickers within those cherry irises before he nods. “Yeah. I’m alright.”

You smile, and for a moment he swears the world falls away under his feet, leaving just you and him. “Good. I’ll catch you later, then. Text me if that changes, okay?” With a pointed look, you wait for his nod before you turn to head out.

Before you can shut the door fully, Sukuna grabs it, barely stopping you in time. “Hey, uh-” he second-guesses himself before finding his resolve. “Will you come to the court? I can have someone there… for support.”

Your expression softens from surprise to sympathy as you nod. The idea of Sukuna being alone, without even the support of his brothers, doesn’t sit well with you. “Of course.”

Relief clouds his senses. “I’ll send you the details,” he gruffs out. You nod, attempting to shut the door again, but his hold on it is steady. “Thanks.”

You can’t help but smile. You’d have to be a fool not to see the effort he’s putting into fixing his mistakes. There’s obvious changes in the way he’s thinking through his words and reactions before he says or does anything, and he’s making an effort to let you in.

It warms your heart, and it makes it every bit more difficult to pull away each time as you feel your resolve beginning to wear away. Though you do need to study.

“You’re welcome, Kuna.”

His lip quirks into the barest hint of a smile the moment the nickname slips effortlessly past your lips. He nods, relenting and finally letting you shut the door. The sound of the lock flipping behind you is the last noise you hear from the apartment as you make your way to the library to get some printing done for your study session.

–

“Wait up!” Shoko calls out as she falls into step with you on campus the following Tuesday, catching you off-guard. “You headed to work?”

“Yep! Don’t you have class right now?” You query as she follows you to your car.

“Prof’s sick,” she shrugs. “My next lecture’s in, like, four hours.”

“That’s brutal,” you grimace. “Are you gonna study more?”

She nods. “Toji asked for help in his Physical Sciences class, so I’m meeting up with him in a few.” Glancing at her phone, she shoves it back in her pocket after noting the time. “Anyway, did you hear from Sukuna after all that shit over the weekend?”

You nod. “Yeah, a little bit. He’s been updating me on his brothers.”

Shoko hums along, waiting for you to continue as she senses you’re withholding something.

“He asks a lot about my day and how I’m doing.”

Her brow raises. “You know, when you mentioned he seemed like he was actually trying to fix things a couple of weeks ago, I didn’t think it’d last.”

“Me either,” you admit, kicking at gravel as you approach your car. “I honestly thought I was just being stupid by letting him back in even a little bit,” you chuckle in embarrassment, mostly to yourself. “But now I’m not so sure.”

“I just can’t believe he’s proving me wrong,” she shrugs. “Didn’t I tell you people like him don’t change?”

You nod. “You and Kento both did at girls’ night.”

“Okay, you gotta admit it was good advice at the time.”

Reaching your car, you open the door and toss your bag in before turning back to her. “At the time, it made me feel a lot better,” you agree with a chuckle.

“Not so much anymore, huh?” She laughs along with you.

“Not so much,” you click your tongue, fiddling with your keys.

“Some fucking guy, that Sukuna.”

Your brows raise and tilt your head in some form of agreement, your thoughts preoccupied with the pending lawsuit. After a brief silence, Shoko pipes up again.

“You still like him?”

You find her gaze, your brow furrowing in thought. “I do, it’s just…” You trail off, searching for words to describe the strange limbo you’ve found yourself in. “I guess it just feels like I’m kinda getting to know him again?” You try to explain with a small tilt of your head. “Does that make sense?”

“Like, because you didn’t see him for a month, or because he’s acting differently?” She queries.

Poking your tongue into the side of your mouth, you narrow your eyes in thought. “Both? I guess I’m still getting used to him making the effort to be a good friend.” Your keys jingle between your fingers. “Okay, wait. Do you remember when I told you that Sukuna’s kind of a different person when he’s actually being himself?”

“Mhm.”

“Sometimes I see that side of him for a moment here and there, but… sometimes I’m not quite sure who I’m talking to.” You pause, contemplating exactly what you mean by that. “He’s definitely putting in effort and being nice, but sometimes I don’t recognize him at all.”

“Isn’t that mostly a good thing?”

“I don’t know,” you hum, dragging your boot through the gravel and kicking up dust as a small remainder of the last snowfall flicks onto Shoko’s shin. She shoots you an unimpressed look as you lean down to brush her pants off while you continue. “It’s just weird. I guess it’s just that, like-” you pause as you stand back up and brush your hands off. “- Sometimes things are back to normal and everything is great, but sometimes…” you shake your head, shrugging. “I’m not even sure if he knows who he is.”

“Do you think the stress is getting to him?” Shoko clarifies.

“That could be it,” you agree as she makes sense of your rambles.

“Is he that much different?”

“I mean, the Sukuna I know is still there,” you chuckle. “He’s still quiet and kind of a dick sometimes,” you explain, recalling how quiet and standoffish he’s been in the lunchroom to your co-workers since starting at the publishing house. “I think he’s actually thinking about what he’s saying more, though. Like he’s trying to be better.”

The thought brings you back to Saturday night when he’d snapped at you, only to reel himself back in. He’s still the same man, he’s still sharp and hardened, and he’s definitely still got walls up that he’s not letting down anytime soon, but it’s like he’s more aware of that fact now.

You chew on your bottom lip briefly, recalling the way he’d been unusually calm upon your arrival on Sunday morning when you went to help the kids. “But sometimes it seems like he’s just a different person. He’s not angry or anything either. He’s just not there at all.”

“Well, shit.” It’s the best Shoko can offer. It does sound like stress. Like he’s being beaten down and flattened into something he’s not.

You nod, casting a glance at your phone. “I gotta go, but text me? I’ve got some time at work today.”

“Sounds good. I’ll text you when I meet up with Toji.”

“Catch you later,” you grin cheerily as you turn towards your car.

After your conversation with Shoko, you barely have enough time to rush home, change, and make the bus in time to get to the office.

You’re at your desk seconds before your shift starts, panting after rushing up the stairs.

Amused, Yuki’s brow raises from where she sits at her desk opposite you. “Running a bit late?”

“Yeah, I lost track of time.” Taking a moment to catch your breath, you lean back in your chair, staring at the ceiling.

“You know no one cares if you’re a bit late, right?” She chuckles.

“I know,” you sigh, “but I want to make a good impression, maybe keep my position.”

Yuki’s eyes shine as she smiles at the thought, but she’s quickly distracted by movement behind you. Smirking, she motions past you with her pen when you finally lift your head.

Staring at the back of your head is a familiar pair of crimson irises, his expression unreadable and aloof. The muscular man’s hair is disheveled, hardly pushed back with strands falling over his forehead and into his line of sight as though he hadn’t had time to use hair gel. His shirt is also particularly wrinkled today, overall looking like he’s had a morning.

He extends his arm towards you, a familiar cup held within his hand. His hand lingers for a moment as your fingers brush when you pull the cup from him, holding its warmth between your hands.

“You’re a lifesaver,” you grin.

He hums, a hint of a smile playing on the corners of his lips although it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Thank you, Sukuna.” You take a sip, smiling as warmth floods you, seeping into your very bones. “It’s perfect.”

“Good. You got a moment?” He asks, eyes flickering to Yuki in a silent question of whether he can borrow you. Yuki just shrugs, careless as ever.

“Yeah, let me just log in.” You move quickly to get settled before grabbing your drink and following after Sukuna. He leads the way to his office, shutting the door behind him and leaning against his desk.

Somehow the fact that he’s not as put-together as usual with hair askew and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, you find your thoughts spiraling more than they usually do.

Or maybe it’s the fact that you’ve come to the realization that Sukuna’s not just trying to be better for you, or for his brothers, but he’s trying to be a better version of himself in general, and that only endears you to him more.

He takes a sip of his own drink, grabbing it from his desk, only to hold it out and stare at the label with a wrinkled nose.

“Did they get your order wrong?” You tilt your head questioningly.

Sukuna squints at the label, holding it a bit further back. “It has a caramel shot in it,” he mutters in reply, clearly bothered.

“Do you… need to get your eyes checked?” You raise a brow questioningly.

“Probably,” he grumbles.

“You should do that. Our benefits cover it.”

“We have benefits?”

You purse your lips. “Yeah…? Sukuna, did you read the contract at all? Even I get them and I’m an intern.”

Shrugging, he smirks. “I skimmed it.”

That’s the Sukuna you recognize. Stubborn, a little sly, but full of life in spite of his quiet demeanor.

Rolling your eyes, you giggle to yourself. “Go get your eyes checked.”

His smirk remains in place as he hums, quietly watching you laugh as though he’s trying to commit the scene to memory.

You quiet down, leaning back against the door to his office. “Anyways, what did you wanna talk about?”

“Mm,” he hums in acknowledgement, his smirk dissipating as he grows more serious. “Can you be at the courthouse on twelfth street at ten on Thursday?”

“Oh,” a lump forms in your throat at the realization that the court date is growing painfully real now. “Yeah, of course.”

Sukuna lets out a breath, nodding. He crosses his arms over his broad chest, the material of his shirt pulled taut.

And this is the shirt that actually fits him correctly.

Not fair.

“Thanks, princess.” His voice is uncharacteristically soft, the sharp edges of his features seeming somewhat dulled and almost sweet as he gazes down at you.

You can’t help the smile that graces your lips as you nod.

The silence that follows allows you to get a good look at Sukuna. Although he seems to be more at ease at the publishing house and the hours he’s working between this and the occasional shift at the auto shop aren’t nearly as grueling as they used to be, life continues to take its toll on him. His eyes lack their sharp and cunning glimmer, and every movement he makes borders on languid.

“How are you holding up?”

He knows what you’re really asking. You may as well say ‘what’s wrong?’. It’s a fair question, but it’s one he hates to answer because even now his shoulders are tense and his chest aches. He’s had a headache since dawn rolled around on Monday morning.

“I’m fine,” he lies, brushing the question off as he turns back to his desk.

Sukuna’s not easy to read by any means, and anyone else probably would have believed him, but you see right through him. He doesn’t give you the chance to question him as he leans over his desk. “My lawyer doesn’t think we’ll be there long on Thursday.”

“Why not?” Your brow furrows. “Shouldn’t it be long?”

He grinds his teeth in frustration as he replies. “I don’t really get it, shit’s fucked. I guess this isn’t even the real trial, this is some sort of conference bullshit,” he explains. “It's supposed be for us to come to an agreement, but Kaori’s lawyer laid out the shit they’re asking for and it’s not fucking happening.”

“What does she want?”

“Sole custody with no visitation.”

Your eyes widen, taken aback. “You wouldn’t even be able to see them?”

Sukuna chuckles darkly, his knuckles going white as he drags his fingers across his desk until they’re directly under him, crinkling a blank piece of paper beneath him. “She’s never liked me and she made sure I knew, even as a kid.”

“I’m so sorry,” you offer sympathetically. Much like your talk with Choso the other day, you’re not sure what more to offer.

He flashes you a glance of acknowledgement, grunting. “It’s whatever. Point is, it’ll be the first time I’ve seen her in years and her lawyer’s gonna push for a full trial.” He can only shake his head in exasperation. “Her evidence is just bullshit from my school records n’ whatever.”

She’s clearly using whatever force is necessary to take the kids out from under Sukuna’s nose, leaving a slimy feeling in the pit of your stomach. What could she possibly have against her own step-son to pull this kind of move against him? She’s purposefully backing him into a corner, and you see now why his lawyer had their work cut out for them despite the case seeming like an obvious decision to anyone who’s met Sukuna and his brothers.

Picking up his iPad and shoving the papers on his desk aside, he turns on the screen and taps around the device. “You won’t believe how much this bullshit costs, too,” he grumbles. “I swear she’s doing it on purpose.” He taps on the screen a couple of times, his mounting frustration becoming obvious as he taps harder each time. “She’s fuckin’ dragging everything out, too. This all just leads to another fucking court date and more fucking money for my fucking lawyer, and she’s putting Choso n’ Yuji through so much shit, and-”

As Sukuna’s rambling grows in intensity, you push off from where you were leaning against the door, running your hand over his rigid back as he faces away from you. He stiffens, his speech cutting off the moment your fingers run along the muscles. “It’ll be okay. You’ll win,” you smile reassuringly, dropping your hand and stepping off to the side to see his face as he fiddles uselessly with his iPad.

“And if I don’t?”

“You will.”

His temple twitches as he grits his teeth, his gaze fixed on the device in his hands. “And if I don’t?” He growls. His brow is pulled together in a tight furrow, and although his eyes blaze with frustration, it’s not directed at you.

“If you don’t…” you chew on your lip, gingerly reaching out to soothe your thumb over his hand that’s fidgeting with the volume buttons on the side of the iPad, clicking them with enough force to damn-near break them. His fingers steady as you run your thumb over his knuckles like second nature. “Then you’ll figure things out.”

His eyes flicker wildly around your face, as though he’s searching for something. He swallows hard, his gaze returning to his desk.

“Don’t worry about that, okay? You can face that if it comes to it.”

He inhales sharply and nods, twitching his fingers into yours, only for you to pull away. He knows you mean well and he still appreciates your support, but it serves as another reminder of what he’s lost.

“Right,” he agrees, turning his attention to the iPad as he opens his latest project.

Peeking over the screen, you catch a glimpse of a character that you recognize instantly despite having never seen it before. “Is that Baby Whale?”

“You can just ask to see it, brat,” he grumbles, pulling the device out from under your nose as though you’re Yuji obnoxiously trying to get a peek at whatever Sukuna’s working on.

“Sorry,” you grin innocently.

Rolling his eyes, Sukuna tilts the screen towards you. A sweet little purple whale beams at you with pink rosy cheeks. You’re forced to bite your lip in an effort to stop yourself from giggling at the sight of the brute before you who’s drawn the most cutesy character you can possibly imagine. There’s nothing wrong with it by any means, but it’s definitely not his first choice of character, you’re sure of that.

“Yeah, it’s Baby Whale. Do you guys ever get original shit or should I be worried about gettin’ a fast porcupine or some shit next?”

“Mm, I’d worry. We get them here and there, but…” you shrug.

“Great,” he sighs, reaching down to his desk to hold up a few of the pages he’d just printed to get Maya to sign off on. “Here.”

Your eyes light up as you sift through the pages. They’re for a horror-type series of some sort, as far as you can tell, of two children on an adventure, though you aren’t quite sure what it’s a knock-off of, if it is one. Each cover has a vastly different environment, from a jungle beneath a volcano to an abandoned cityscape. Though it’s not in Sukuna’s traditional sketchy charcoal style that you’ve grown to love, they’re still gorgeous. The painterly effect he’s given them is stunning, reminiscent of a watercolor painting.

“These look amazing,” you breathe, sifting through the pages. You come to land on one cover of the two kids in a crystalline cavern with a lizard crawling towards the reader of the novel.

He hums. “I don’t mind the job when I’m not drawin’ knock-off shit.”

So it is original. “I mean, even when you are, it’s gotta be better than stocking shelves, right?” You ask, gaze trained on his artwork.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Still owe you for this.”

“I thought we talked about this,” you smirk, raising a brow as you come to meet his gaze.

He lets out a breath through his nose in somewhat of a laugh. “Thanks, princess.” He pokes gently at your arm as you smile at him and for a moment a familiar air of comfort settles over you. It’s gone before Sukuna can really relish in it, though, as you pull away with a sigh.

“I should get to work. Let me know if you need anything?”

Sukuna frowns as you retreat. “Yeah. See ya at lunch.”

–

You’ve passed the courthouse a number of times on your way to get-togethers with friends across the city, but it’s never seemed to loom over you quite like this. From what Sukuna mentioned, this conference thing seems to be little more than a formality and a requirement and you’re pretty sure no decisions will be made today, unless his step-mother has some sort of miracle change of heart.

From the way Sukuna’s described her, you don’t get the feeling that’s likely.

Having never been to the courthouse yourself, you arrive decently early in case you need to fill out forms, or something of the sort.

It never really occurred to you just how little you know about the world of legal proceedings until you’d found yourself online researching proper attire. You’d landed on something you would usually wear to work anyway, a pale white blouse and a pair of fitted slacks that hug your hips in all the right areas.

A pair of simple black heels adorn your feet as they click across the ground. A stark flash of pink catches your eye, the man himself leaning against the smooth faux brick of the courthouse, smoke spiraling into the air. His head leans back against the outer building wall as he watches the smoke billow and rise.

A suit jacket hangs over his shoulders, a tie done up to his neck, though he seems to have tugged it a bit loose. His hair is pushed back out of his face with gel, though it’s so long it’s somewhat unruly anyway as a few strands still tickle his forehead.

You can’t deny that your heart palpitated once, maybe even twice at the thought of how handsome he looks with his broad shoulders pulling the suit jacket taut. It gets harder to deny your own feelings when every time you see him, he continues to prove that he has changed, and you find yourself forced to listen to the blood roaring in your ears as your heart rate skyrockets.

“Hey,” you greet him, catching him off-guard. His head whips down, his eyes trailing your outfit and lingering a moment too long on your hips. Any other day, he’d mentally scold himself for staring, but his mind is such a mess that he hardly realizes he’s doing it until you jut your hips out expectantly with a hand on one side when he doesn’t reply.

His eyes shoot up to meet your gaze, flitting down to the shy smile you wear, having blatantly noticed the way he checked you out. Clearing his throat, he grunts in reply.

Your cheeks are warm, even as you consider the emotions drawn across his face. You can’t say for sure what’s going through his mind, although you can make an educated guess when the muscles in his forehead twitch. He isn’t quite scowling, nor does he wear the familiar pride on his sleeve that you’ve grown accustomed to.

It’s exactly what you mentioned to Shoko.

This isn’t Sukuna. It’s not the frustrated man who masks his unease and fear with anger, lashing out needlessly. But it’s also not the sly and cocky asshole who’s surprisingly thoughtful and conscious of others.

It’s like he’s someone else, someone you can’t identify and don’t know how to help. His fear isn’t getting the best of him, his anger isn’t overflowing and misdirected with nowhere to go. Those, you know how to handle. But now, he’s simply lost.

“How are you feeling?”

Grateful for the nicotine calming him enough to give you a competent answer, he tilts his head in a semblance of a shrug. “Fine, I guess. Not like there’s any point in this bullshit.”

With a grimace, you take a step towards him. “Do you really think this is for nothing?”

Sukuna inhales deeply as he takes a drag of his cigarette, holding the smoke within his lungs as he considers your question. “She’s tryin’ to bleed me dry of cash. That’s all this is. If she really cared, we’d settle shit here.”

“Shit,” you breathe. Sukuna casts a glance at you, but ultimately chooses not to comment on your choice of word. “I really thought this was meant to be the actual trial,” you admit.

Blowing smoke over his head to keep it out of your face, he nods. “I did too. My lawyer explained it last week and I meant to tell ya, but then shit happened and Choso,” he motions his hand lazily through the air before dropping it at his side. “I dunno. I don’t get the point of all this shit.”

“Your lawyer just told you last week that this isn’t the full trial?” You gape. Had Hiromi steered Sukuna in the wrong direction? Shouldn’t he know this?

He shrugs again. “Nah, I just didn’t get it.”

“Oh.” Fiddling with your thumbs, you nod. “So what’s after this?”

Dropping his cigarette on the pavement at his feet, he stomps it out, grinding his foot on it. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he shakes his head, frustrated with the system. “We wait a couple of months until the actual trial.”

“A couple of months?” You’re not sure if their family can make it through waiting a couple more months with Sukuna and Choso acting so distant that even Yuji’s been affected. It’s strange to think that a system meant to take every precaution and is bleeding them dry. Of money, of time, and of life.

Sukuna seems to share your dismay as he adds, “at least we get more time to prepare, I guess.”

Whispering an ‘I guess’ in agreement, you let Sukuna usher you inside with a hand on your lower back. Though he drops his hand as you head through security and check-in with a clerk at a grand wooden desk in the center of the large lobby.

It’s not long before you’re sitting in a couple of uncomfortable wooden chairs in a room full of strangers. Sukuna deliberately sits near a woman with a short brown bob, leafing through paperwork as she reviews the case she’s working on, although he doesn’t say a word to her.

“Is that your lawyer?” You ask, tilting your chin towards the woman beside Sukuna in a pristine-looking suit. She’s the definition of confidence as she flips through what you assume are notes, which helps settle your nerves a bit.

Sukuna nods, clearing his throat. “Yeah, uh, Ms. Harte,” he addresses her before introducing you both.

She smiles warmly at you, extending a professional hand. “Mr. Sukuna mentioned you would be here to support him. I’m glad you could make it,” she shakes your hand firmly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you greet her in return. Though you have no part in the proceedings, it’s at least nice to know that Sukuna and the boys are in good hands. Sukuna definitely owes Hiromi a favor, though he doesn’t need that reminder now.

“Case number 2493, Sukuna versus Itadori.” A clerk with a clipboard in his hands waits for both parties to join him, and it’s then that you see a face so painfully familiar, yet completely foreign. You’ve never met her, but you recognize her instantly. Choso is a spitting image of Kaori Itadori, with deep umber eyes and dark brown hair. Yuji, on the other hand, clearly got Jin’s genes.

Beside her is a tall man in a full beige suit, sporting a well-kept graying beard. He walks with the same confident gait as Ms. Harte on Sukuna’s opposite side, but he carries himself with an air of superiority that you assume only money can buy. Money that Kaori clearly has, if the massive diamonds adorning her collar are anything to go off of.

Sukuna’s step-mother eyes him with disgust before her gaze trails the length of your form. A chill runs up your spine, sending ice straight through your veins that matches the look in her eyes. She regards you with so much disdain, yet it’s the mild interest that gleams in her eyes that makes your skin crawl.

The clerk leads the way down a hall to a small room labelled ‘Private Meeting Room 2’. Within the room is one long table with a number of chairs on either side. Both parties take their seats on the same side of the table, keeping a small distance between one another. Sukuna’s lawyer advises you to take a seat and keep to the back of the room, as you can’t participate in the discussion.

From your seat, you can see the way Kaori folds her hands in her lap, grinning at her lawyer as she laughs at something he says. The stark contrast to Sukuna’s silence as he leans over the table is immense, but in contrast to the nerves you expected him to have, he keeps a straight  face.

In the informal meeting room setting, there’s no need to rise as an older gentleman in judges’ attire enters the room. His pale blond hair thins at the sides of his face, gentle wrinkles accentuating his features. He takes a seat on the opposite end of the table, the soft edges of his eyes crinkling as he evaluates both parties and yourself.

You’re grateful for the intimate setting of the meeting, as it eases your own nerves. While the courthouse itself does no favors to settle the growing discomfort in your stomach, the small room has an almost cozy feel to it. There’s an air to the man before you that he wants to help and understand the case that sits well with you, as well.

“Judge Marcos will be overseeing this case conference this morning in the matter of Sukuna versus Itadori,” the clerk begins the session.

The judge settles back in his chair, clasping his hands over the documents laying in front of him. “The purpose of this conference is to come to a resolution before the matter goes to a trial.” He proceeds to explain that a case conference aims to narrow down issues prior to a trial and that this will be a more open conversation with more wiggle room than a traditional trial. He then confirms that disclosure of all evidence has taken place. With all expectations set on the table, the judge sits back as Kaori’s lawyer begins.

“Your Honor, my name is Richard Cahn and I represent the applicant, Kaori Itadori.”

Ms. Harte follows suit at Sukuna’s side, sitting upright to introduce herself as the counsel for Sukuna, the respondent.

“Counsel for the applicant, please begin.”

With the court, if you can even call the small meeting room that, now in session, mounting tension fills the air. It’s overbearing, the way the gravity in the room seems to drag down on every person in the room, yourself included.

“Your Honor, my client is seeking sole guardianship with no visitation rights of her children Choso Itadori and Yuji Itadori. We have reason to believe that Mr. Sukuna is a negative influence on the children for a number of reasons and it is Ms. Itadori’s maternal right as their mother to raise her children,” Mr. Cahn begins without faltering, introducing their points succinctly.

Clearing her throat, Ms. Harte responds with equal clarity. “Your Honor, my client is more than fit to be their guardian, as he has demonstrated over the past three years. The children’s needs are met, they are in school, and Mr. Sukuna has a clear record with no need to raise any concern regarding his abilities. My client would like to remain in sole custody of the children, however he is open to Ms. Itadori having visitation rights as their mother.”

Of course, she left out the part where that portion is much to his dismay and he’d only grant that right at the request of the kids. That’s not for the opening statements, though.

Much like Sukuna anticipated, Kaori is unwilling to cooperate. Every single option is shut down before the conversation can begin. Although he remains as an unbiased third party, even the judge seems somewhat perturbed at the obvious disdain shared between Sukuna and Kaori. Their dislike of one another runs far deeper than even that of most ex spouses that end up in this room.

What starts as a polite and orderly conversation primarily between the lawyers quickly devolves into some sort of familial tension that clearly extends beyond the courtroom. You can’t see either of their faces from your position at the back of the room, but you can feel the heat radiating from Sukuna as he seethes through each deceitfully polite performance from Kaori, but even she begins to crack when Sukuna pushes back.

“Your Honor, with all due respect, I won’t tolerate any settlements. I don’t feel comfortable leaving my children in the hands of my step-son,” Kaori repeats herself for what feels like the fifth time as the judge attempts to find a middle-ground, but she’s completely unwilling to budge. Even visitation rights for Sukuna seem to be so far off the table they may as well be six feet in the ground, along with any love she may have had for her step-son.

“You didn’t have a problem with it when I couldn’t reach you three years ago,” Sukuna quips, his anger clear through his tone although he remains even. He may be anxious as hell and equally furious, but knowing that this is all for naught and his lawyer may as well be a bill whose total increases by the second, his frustrations grow fiery.

“Ryomen, we’ve provided all the medical documents that were requested as proof of my illness and I would appreciate if you didn’t dismiss them.”

“Oh, bullshit!” Sukuna finally bursts, slamming his hand flat on the table.

“Mr. Sukuna,” the judge warns sternly, leaning over the table. “I expect proper courtroom etiquette, even here. We’re here to discuss the matters at hand, not your opinions of the applicant.”

Sukuna’s chest rises and falls as he physically bites his tongue to keep from saying something he’ll regret. Leaning back in his chair, he casts a glance at the door, desperate to escape from this room. Unlike the rest of the legal proceedings, this whole conference just serves to piss him off.

“Apologies, Your Honor, my client is simply stressed as he cares very deeply for his brothers,” Ms. Harte steps in, clearing her throat to put Sukuna’s thoughts into a court-approved statement. “While my client was unaware that Ms. Itadori was ill, he did use multiple methods of contact to reach out, and Ms. Itadori didn’t respond.” Turning to address Kaori, she clasps her hands together. “Should it not be your responsibility to inform your step-son and husband of your new contact?”

Kaori’s lawyer pipes in. “As we stated earlier, she was required to change all contact information and moved closer to her office upon starting with her new company. She shared her contact information with her husband, however it seems he didn’t share this information with Mr. Sukuna, or save her updated number before passing.”

The tattooed brute has to physically mask his scoff. He coughs into his elbow, shaking his head. He’d called from both his cell and his dad’s cell, he’d sent letters both from him and Choso, he’d emailed, and even searched social media. How convenient that she somehow had everything accounted for. That’s not even mentioning the additional money Sukuna spent to have land titles for her name pulled just to see if she had purchased new property, only to come up blank.

She had completely and utterly dropped off the face of the earth. As far as Sukuna was concerned back then, she made her position on her family clear.

As far as Sukuna is concerned now, he’ll do everything in his power to show her not to fuck with him. He doesn’t care how much his chest tightens, he doesn’t care if it feels as though he’s watching everything around him as nothing more than an observer outside of his own body. He doesn’t care if his mental health suffers for all the shit she’s putting him through.

He’ll move heaven and earth to save his brothers from her.

The judge frowns, having heard this argument already. The meeting room is running in circles like a dog chasing its own tail, they were never going to get anywhere at this rate.

“Mr. Sukuna did his due diligence and has taken care of the children for three years, they are healthy and cared for and there is no evidence against-”

“I’ll believe that when I see the house study,” Kaori interrupts, the first phrase to come from her that feels genuine as she diverts her attention to a small window at the edge of the room. Sukuna’s hand balls into a fist on the table.

“Ms. Itadori. Let the respondent finish.”

“Thank you, Your Honor. There is no evidence to disprove my client’s ability to care for the children. No one has ever expressed any concern to him. The children attend school with good attendance and have remained healthy over the years. Mr. Sukuna earns more than enough to keep a roof over their heads and put food on the table,” Ms. Harte continues.

“Your Honor,” Mr. Cahn addresses the judge. “I would like to see the house study before coming to any conclusions.”

Sukuna sighs, leaning back further in his chair. Kaori’s lawyer had pushed for a rush assessment, but even with the rush, it isn’t meant to be ready anytime soon.

“My son Choso has always been easily influenced, and I worry while he’s under Sukuna’s care.”

Sukuna’s fist hits the table. “Please-” he gripes.

“Mr. Sukun-” The judge tries to interject, but it’s no use.

“You never cared, you’re just feeding them the bullshit they want to hear!” He snarls, flipping in his chair to face her. “You care about them about as much as you care about me!”

“Mr. Sukuna. I understand being emotional in this situation, but I will not allow this behavior to continue. We will proceed without you if you feel the need to act without respect.”

Sukuna shoots Kaori one last glare before sitting back in his chair. He’s not doing himself any favors by lashing out, but he can’t help but feel as though this entire system is playing a game against him and he isn’t even aware of it. It’s as though everyone is a puppet in Kaori’s little game and the kids are prizes to be won.

Rubbing his eyes, the tattooed man sighs. “Sorry… Your Honor.”

“Ryomen, I’ve always cared about you,” Kaori sends him a disingenuous look of sympathy. Her lips curl into a false smile, but to any outsider, Sukuna knows it would appear genuine.

Even to you, it’s hard to tell.

Gritting his teeth, Sukuna keeps his gaze set dead ahead. If he doesn’t keep his cool, he knows he’ll be thrown out of the room. “Do you know when I realized you didn’t give a shit about me?”

“Watch your language,” Ms. Harte warns quietly at his side in an attempt to keep the judge at bay.

The conversation doesn’t exactly pertain to the case, but the judge remains silent. Sukuna’s question is met with no opposition.

Kaori swallows, watching with a furrowed brow as Sukuna’s adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. “Dad told me to go find you at my grandfather’s funeral. He was cryin’, needed some time alone. Do you remember where you were?”

Kaori’s eyes flicker down to the table. Her tongue swipes across her lower lip before she bites it momentarily.

“Do you remember where you were?” Sukuna pushes in a growl now, leaning over the table.

“Objection, Your Honor, this is not pertinent to the case,” Kaori’s lawyer speaks up, setting his foot down as he realizes that this doesn’t bode well in their favor.

“Where were you, Kaori?” He snarls, his voice gravelly as he grips the arm of his chair with white knuckles.

“Objection sustained. Mr. Sukuna, stay focused please.”

Sitting back harshly in his chair, Sukuna’s practically shaking. You may not be able to speak, but certainly as his support person, you can support him, right? Gingerly, you slide your chair forward quietly, wincing as it scrapes lightly against the floor. It catches Kaori’s attention as she shoots you a glare. You have half a mind to shoot that same glare back but that’s not important right now.

Close enough to reach Sukuna, you slip your hand over his much larger one that still grips the arm of his chair. Your fingers slide between his, slotting so easily into place as though they belong there. Your heart does a flip at the thought, but you keep your attention fixed on Sukuna and his needs.

From the corner of his eye, he glances down at your hands. His chest continues to heave in frustration, but as the conversation rolls back around to the subject of the kids and points begin getting reiterated and repeated until Sukuna’s hardly even paying attention anymore, he finds himself beginning to calm down. His shoulders gradually slouch, his fingers folding over yours as he gives your hand a grateful squeeze.

Kaori should be grateful to you, because Sukuna’s sure he would have torn into her if you weren’t here. He would have been thrown out, sure, but at least for once he might get answers to his own mistreatment by his step-mother.

How can the judge not see that the information is relevant? He huffs to himself, earning a couple of looks, but no one mentions it.

After hearing about Sukuna’s supposed inability to care for the kids for the fourth time, the judge finally raises a white flag.

“Coming up on the end of our time, I see we aren’t getting anywhere. A trial date will be scheduled for after the house study is received. Any further evidence must be submitted via the official disclosure process both to the court and each party.”

Your friend sighs at your side. Another two hours of his lawyer’s time. Another bill. More money down the drain. He knew how this would play out from the beginning.

“I would suggest you continue mediation between now and then to see if you can come to an agreement. I encourage you to attempt to understand one another outside of the court,” the judge adds, but Sukuna can’t even bear to look at Kaori. It’s of no use, and everyone within the room is well aware.

“I will issue my endorsement for a trial in writing. This matter is now adjourned.”

Breathing out a disdainful sigh, Sukuna squeezes your hand once, before untangling his fingers from yours as he pushes up out of the chair. It’s hard to get a read on him as you follow him out of the meeting room into the lobby. Standing off to the side, you allow him a few minutes to speak with his lawyer, watching the way he seems painfully frustrated as he lazily shrugs his shoulders. Even from this angle you can tell every time he rolls his eyes.

As Kaori and her lawyer approach Sukuna, his shoulders tense.

“I’m sorry the circumstances couldn’t be better, but it’s good to see you aga-”

“Don’t pretend like you give a fuck!” Sukuna barks, turning heads. Your eyes widen as all attention is suddenly on your group. Even standing off to the side, you find yourself shrinking away from the prying eyes.

“Ryomen, you know this isn’t what I wanted,” Kaori replies evenly, easily keeping her cool under Sukuna’s searing gaze.

He scoffs, waving his hand through the air in exasperation. Always the picture of a calm and perfect wife, of course she had Sukuna’s father wrapped around her finger while she went off and did her own thing. Jin could never be that upset with her so long as she batted her lashes and doubled down on her innocence.

“I don’t fuckin’ know what you want,” he mutters, laughing dryly as he casts his gaze to the side of the courthouse. His voice returns to a reasonable level, though it drips with venom. “So, what the fuck is it, then? You want money, you want to tear me down because I know what you fuckin’ did?”

His step-mother’s eyes darken in such a subtle way that an outsider might not even realize her smile is a facade. Nothing more than painted lines on a meaningless canvas. You can’t help the way a shiver runs up your spine as you slowly make your way back to Sukuna’s side when you notice security is keeping a watchful eye on him for any more disruptions. He should consider himself lucky he’s even still in the building at this rate.

Settling beside your friend, you can feel just how red hot his fury is. Kaori casts a curious once-over of your form as you stand alongside her step-son with a curious smile that doesn’t go unnoticed by Sukuna as he steps between you. He knows he asked you to be here, but he’s not about to let Kaori say a single damn word to you. You may be his support, but you won’t be involved in whatever lies she’s brewing.

You can only blink in surprise as Sukuna’s hand finds your forearm without glancing back, keeping you safely behind him where she can’t even so much as glimpse at you. Blinking up at him, you can only make out the edges of his tattoos and a glint of the uneasiness that sidles his anger.

“That was a long time ago, Ryomen. I want us to be able to move past that.”

“Yeah? Is that why we’re here? To move past everything?” He hisses in a mocking tone, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

“You wouldn’t have cooperated if I tried to work with you on this, sweetheart.”

Even from your spot behind him, you don’t miss the way your friend visibly recoils at the term of endearment. “Don’t fucking call me that,” he hisses.

“Mr. Sukuna, I think it’s in our best interest-” Ms. Harte makes an attempt to de-escalate the situation, to no avail.

“You don’t give a shit, do you?” Sukuna blows past his lawyer’s warning, his voice rising in decibels. “Cho and Yu don’t want this!”

Kaori remains eerily calm as she shoots Sukuna the most fake sympathetic stare you’ve possibly ever witnessed. “They’re kids. They’re too young to know what they want.”

“They’re smart!” Sukuna barks.

Stern voices sound behind you and you cast a glance at the quickly incoming security guards, where Sukuna will surely be ushered out.

Not that he cares at this particular moment. “They don’t care about you! They don’t even know you!” He continues, his jaw tightening. “You never even fucking visited! Don’t you know how many Christmases Cho spent asking if you called or mailed something?” Sukuna waves his hand through the air, his eyes wild with rage. If Kaori’s affected by his words at all, it’s carefully masked. “You fucked your own family!”

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” a large man in a black security vest is followed closely by two other equally large men as they approach the brutish man in front of you.

In such a blind rage, their words don’t even register to Sukuna.

“If you gave a single shit about Jin, about any of us, you would have been there for the funeral,” he snarls, his chest heaving.

The security guards slowly advance towards Sukuna as Kaori replies. “I wanted to be there. I wish I could have been.”

The lawyers continue to try to defuse the situation, all the while the security guards’ intensity increases as they get infinitely closer to grabbing him and physically throwing him out. The guards may be big, but you can only imagine a man like Sukuna is still daunting.

Setting your hand on his back, Sukuna straightens, casting a glance at the guards that he’s now overly aware of, only to realize it’s not their hand. His head whips towards you as he gains clarity on the situation, his crimson eyes blazing with rage. Subtly leaning into your touch, he raises his hands in surrender, addressing the guards.

“I’m leavin’,” he mutters, his hands falling down to his side with a plop as they collide with his slacks on either side. “Thanks, Ms. Harte,” he mutters as he turns to make his way out.

The security guards follow him closely, tensing as he turns back to Kaori for one moment, his tongue poking into the side of his cheek as he contemplates something. “I didn’t tell him, by the way.” He examines her face, some sick form of satisfaction pooling in his chest as her mask breaks for a moment. Her eyes widen slightly, her lips parting, but Sukuna doesn’t want to hear whatever she has to say.

You cast a glance between the two, not daring to ask any questions with Sukuna ready to blow a fuse.

Stalking through the security checkpoint at the front of the building, he pushes the large wooden doors with enough force to cause them to slam on their hinges as you follow him out into the cool outdoor air.

“Fuck!” He barks straight up at the clouds above, dragging his hands through his hair as he stares up at the overcast sky. His fingers tangle in the pink locks, tousling the strands as more hair falls out of place. “She’s such a fucking-” He cuts himself off, only because you’re still at his side. Huffing loudly, he leans over the masonry fence at the edge of the stairs out front of the courthouse, his hands covering his face.

You’re silent as he remains there for a moment, coming up slowly beside him. Leaning on your hip against the smooth brick beside him, you peer over at him.

Sensing your presence, Sukuna’s hands drop, crossing over one another out in front of him. Letting out a breath, he absently cracks his knuckles, staring at the bare winter trees that extend in front of you. His chest heaves with every breath he lets out, his muscles tensing with each time he barely holds back the choice words he wants to say about his step-mother.

You stay silent at his side, offering quiet comfort in your presence, but it’s your hand on his bicep that truly calms him. His entire demeanor shifts as your hand gently rubs up and down his arm in a soothing motion. With one long inhalation, he tilts his head to look up at you.

He’s not sure why he expects to see a look of disappointment. Deep down, some part of him expects you to retreat back into your shell after he caused a scene, but you only peer down at him with understanding and what might even be grief. He’s not sure why he would even suspect you to regard him with disappointment when that’s not who you are. You get him.

His brow furrows further the longer he stares at you, growing frustrated with himself for projecting his own negative thoughts onto you.

“What’s on your mind?” You query at the sight of his glower.

Averting his gaze, he shakes his head. “Nothing.” He shifts slightly into your touch, reaching up to rub your hand with his opposite one. With one last pat on your skin, he stands upright, rolling his shoulders back as he turns away from you to face the courthouse with a huff. “I should let you head back,” he mutters, barely audible.

“Actually, um-” you pause, shamelessly watching the way he raises a large, veiny hand to his shoulder to attempt to rub at a knot in his muscles. Tearing your gaze away, you push down the uneasy flip that your stomach does at the realization that the grumpy man standing in front of you has changed and even if things are never the same as they once were, you’re happy to stand by and support him and his family. After all, you don’t need to let him carve the same place in your heart that he once had, right? He can be important to you without holding such a big piece of your love.

If anything, maybe the distance between you will help you overcome your feelings and be what he clearly needs.

A friend.

It may hurt to know your feelings aren’t reciprocated, but you’re happy to hold him dear as a friend if it’s all you ever are to one another. Once you overcome your infatuation, you’re sure you can find a comfortable place within his life that makes sense for you both, rather than hoping for something that will never work.

As you hesitate with the mess in your mind, Sukuna turns to face you, raising a brow expectantly.

“Sorry, um- did you want to grab lunch? I’m hungry.”

His eyes widen briefly at your offer. Not an offer for help, or support for his siblings or what he’s going through. Just an offer to hang out. To be friendly.

He’d have to be an idiot to say no.

“I, uh- I can’t really afford lunch. I’ll just-”

“I’ll pay,” you offer without thinking twice.

His brow furrows as frustration crosses his features.

But he’d have to be an idiot to say no.

“Sure. What’d you have in mind?” He gruffs in spite of his standoffish expression.

“A new ramen place opened up near me that I’ve been wanting to try but their hours are awful so I can never go after class or work, but I bet they’re actually open right now.”

“Whatever you want,” he agrees. “Lead the way, princess.”

As you shyly avert your eyes at the nickname with a sweet smile crossing your lips, two things occur to Sukuna as he follows behind you to your car.

The first; he’s never considered himself a particularly lucky man, but when it comes to your place in his life, he may have won the lottery. He can still see your walls, he knows he hasn’t patched the bridge that stands between you, but at least if he treads carefully you’re still there and for that he’s beyond grateful.

And the second; no matter how tense his muscles are, no matter how empty his bank account is, no matter how badly he wants to tear into Kaori in a courtroom and have the judge take his word for how shitty she is, you still manage to make him smile.

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

❦ a/n ; i put together some husband!wyk!sukuna headcanons if you wanted to check those out here and i put together a playlist here <33

helloooo!! thanks for all the patience with the delay between chapters, i appreciate it <33 it gave me the time to not only write out both ch13 and 14, but also ensure they fit well with one another and all the details make sense.

a lot of research went into this and i want to thank my two absolutely lovely followers @/aagathokakologicall and @/notcharliw for all their help with the legal details as well! information on proceedings isn't super readily available and they were a huge help! i also took a few liberties to try to make sure the processes are easy to follow and interesting for the audience, so hopefully i've pulled that off here! i was hoping to land somewhere between tv drama and realism.

if you notice any errors in the legal processes... no you didn't :) LMAO

i say it every time and will continue to say it: thank you so much as always for all the love for wyk <33 it makes my day and it's a big driving factor in my motivation to write, so thank you. i appreciate you all and i hope you enjoyed 🫶

❦ taglist ; OPEN. please comment here or on the masterlist if you would like to be tagged. age MUST be easily visible on your blog.

@yenayaps @kunascutie @aiicpansion @fushitoru @gojoscumslut

@hellish4ever @cuntyji @theonlyhonoredone @catobsessedlady @timetoletmyimaginationfly

@clp-84 @coffee-and-geto @candyluvsboba @favvkiki @gojodickbig

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writing & format © starmapz. art © 3-aem. dividers © adornedwithlight & cafekitsune

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Chosen Appa | Wooyoung

- Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Single-mom!Reader.

- Requested by: no one

- Requests: Open for now. Please read my requesting guidelines before requesting.

- Warnings: single mum, hints at readers ex-husband being a cheater and an overall douchebag, best friends to lovers.

- Word Count: 1,205

- Taglist: Open. Send an ask or fill out the Tag List Form.

Wooyoung Masterlist | ATEEZ Masterlist

Walking back into her small living room, Y/N is met with silence. The babbling sounds of her 15-month-old baby girl, who usually keeps herself entertained with her toys in her play pen while Y/N does the housework, has gone quiet. Assuming her little one might have fallen asleep, she peeks into the playpen only to discover that her daughter is missing.  

Panic sets in as Y/N searches every corner of the apartment, trying to convince that her baby isn’t capable of climbing out on her own yet. Her eyes dart to the entrance, where she notices the stroller and the diaper bag are missing. Relief washes over her and is quickly replaced with annoyance as she picks up the phone and calls the only person brave and sneaky enough to kidnap her baby in broad daylight. 

He quickly answers but before he can start his yapping, Y/N yells at him. “Yah! Jung Wooyoung! You better bring my baby back right now.”  

“No,” he says defiantly. “You’ve been under a lot of stress lately with finding a new job, the divorce and your soon to be ex-husband being a total asshole. She’s coming with me to the studio while you have a few hours to yourself," he insists.  "Don’t worry; she’ll be safe and sound. You know everyone here loves her.” 

Y/N can almost hear the smirk in his voice, and it only fuels her irritation further. “You can’t just take her without asking me first! What if something happens? What if she gets scared?” 

“Y/N,” he interrupts, his voice firm yet gentle, “You know I won't let anything happen to her. I protect her as if she's my own." 

"Fine, but if you pull a stunt like this again, you'll never see her again," she warns her best friend. "You got that? I'll make Yeonjun her godfather. You’ll be no one to her." 

"You really trust Yeonjun with Hannie?" he asks, skeptically. 

"He wouldn't kidnap her without me knowing," she defends their mutual friend.  

Wooyoung chuckles on the other end of the call, the sound brings some comfort to her. “You know, I think you’re just jealous because I didn’t kidnap you for the day too. Stop with the housework and enjoy this time to yourself. Take a walk, go get some lunch, do a little shopping.”  

Y/N sighs, her shoulders slumping as she leans against the kitchen counter. The weight of her responsibilities presses down on her. Never did she think she would be jobless, almost divorced and a single mother. But four months ago, everything came crashing down. Her husband’s mistress turned up at their door, crying and pregnant. She left, losing her job in the process, and moved in with her mother who’s been helping support her and Hannie while she finds a new job so she can get an apartment. But finding a job was proving harder than she expected. She’s seriously considering the job her mum offered her at the small restaurant she owns. 

Y/N feels a twinge of guilt for wanting a moment to herself. “I know, but she’s my baby. I can’t help but worry.”  

“Worrying is part of being a mother, but you also need to take care of yourself,” Wooyoung replies, his voice softening.  

Y/N bites her lip, contemplating his words. He’s right, of course. The past few months have been a whirlwind of stress, and she hasn’t had a moment to breathe. “Okay, but I want updates and photos. Text me every hour, or I swear I’ll come down to that studio and take her back myself.” 

"I promise to send you plenty of pictures," he assures her. "Hannie, say see you later, eomma," he adds, moving the phone closer to Hannie.  

Hannie babbles into the phone until a clear word breaks through. "Appa!" 

Y/N’s eyes widen with shock. Hannie just said her first word. Her heart swells with a mix of pride and disbelief. “Did she just say ‘Appa’?” Y/N asks, her voice barely above a whisper, as if she’s afraid to break the special moment. 

"I've been trying to get her to say eomma," Wooyoung admits after putting his phone on speaker, disbelief and pride in his voice also. He quickly ends the call and calls her back on video call. 

She quickly answers and the first thing to pop up on her phone screen is her little girl, her bright eyes sparkling with innocence and joy as she looks past the phone at wooyoung. She’s always imagined the day her daughter would speak her first word, and now it was directed at someone else. Someone that wants nothing to do with her. The reality of her situation hits her like a wave, and she feels a lump form in her throat. 

“Appa,” Hannie keeps saying, her tiny voice filled with joy as she looks up at Wooyoung, her little hands reaching out wanting him to pick her up. "Look, Hannie, it's eomma," Wooyoung says, turning the phone to show Hannie her mother on the screen. For a brief moment, she captures the baby's attention, and Y/N can see the flicker of recognition in her daughter’s eyes. "Can you say eomma?" he playfully encourages, trying to elicit another word from his goddaughter.  

Hannie giggles, her focus shifting back to him, her laughter like music that fills the room. "Appa!" she exclaims again. 

"I think she's calling you Appa," Y/N says, the realization dawning on her. When she thinks about it, Wooyoung has present in Hannie's life more than her own father. Especially since Y/N and her ex-husband ended their relationship. Hannie's father hasn't had anything to do with her since. 

 "Me?" he asks surprised, turning the phone camera back to him. "Why would she call me Appa?" he questions not really thinking about it. 

"Maybe she sees me as a father figure," Y/N tries to convince herself, but deep down, she knows that Hannie is forming connections, and Wooyoung is a significant part of her life. 

"I mean, I’ve been around a lot since you and—" He stops himself, the mention of her ex-husband hanging in the air. 

Y/N swallows hard, the lump in her throat growing. "You have been," she admits, her voice growing softer as she thinks about it. "You’ve been a great, Wooyoung. I don’t know what I would do without you." 

He smiles, but it’s tinged with something more serious. "I just want to be there for both of you. You know that, right? You and Hannie mean the world to me." 

"And you mean the world to us," she replies with a warm smile, her heart swelling with affection. In that moment, she realizes that there could be something more between her, her daughter and her best friend. Wooyoung has stepped into a role that neither of them expected, but it feels right. 

"I don't think this is a conversation that should be spoken about over the phone," he says after a moment of silence. "I'll bring Hannie home now and we can talk more." 

She nods, a small smile playing on her lips and ends the call. She rushes around the room, picking up toys and putting away the play pen. anticipating Wooyoung and Hannie's return home. 

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy, modify and/or repost anywhere.

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[guiltyasdave]

paper rings

pairing: modern!Oberyn Martell x f!reader

word count: ~1.7k

summary: after two months with oberyn, you're not sure if his feelings are as strong as yours.

part of my modern!oberyn universe, takes place after delicate but can be read as a standalone too <3

warnings/tags: able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, angst, so much fluff, making out

a/n: written for @jolapeno's lovely dear-uary challenge, and if you think i'm late then you're wrong <3 thank you so so much for hosting, jo!

huuuuge thanks and kisses to @sizzlingcloudmentality for beta reading and encouraging me, ily!

dividers as always by @saradika-graphics <3

find my full masterlist here and follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates!

Getting coffee, wait for me in bed ;)

The note sits on your kitchen counter when you shuffle into the room. Early morning sunlight is streaming through the window, warming the hardwood floor underneath your feet. 

Smiling to yourself, the note still clutched between your fingers, you retreat towards the bedroom and back under covers. The domesticity of it is sweet on your tongue, all warmth and honey. It’s all still so new, so fresh, butterflies alive in your stomach almost constantly. 

Your smile widens when you hear the apartment door open and close, footsteps that you can tell are kept more quiet than usual, in case you’re still asleep. You slip the note under your pillow when Oberyn steps into the room, a paper bag and two cups of coffee in his hands. His hair still mussed from the night’s sleep, his whole frame softer in the early hours. 

“Good morning, princess.”

His body smothers yours against the mattress when he joins you in bed again, your laugh coming out muffled against his lips. He alternates between feeding you kisses and sweet dough, covered in powdered sugar that he licks off the corners of your mouth. 

The note lands back between your fingers later when Oberyn has gone back to his own apartment. You decide to keep it, a reminder of the blissful morning you just had, kept safe in the top drawer of your desk. 

Had to go to work, call me when you get up.

Lunch later? :)

Have a great day today!

Don’t be nervous about the meeting, you’ll kill it!

There are leftovers in the fridge if you want them :)

You looked so beautiful this morning.

Had to run, I’ll text you later.

Can’t wait to see you tonight :)

You have no clue how Oberyn knows that it sends your heart flying every time you find a piece of paper with a message from him, either at your place or at his. But you love it. It’s so much sweeter than a text message, more tangible somehow, like he left a small part of himself with you.

You don’t tell him, but you keep every single one of them. It’s a little clingy, maybe. Not how you want to appear after just a couple of weeks of dating, especially not with a man like Oberyn, who you know could take a different person home every night, but who has somehow, inexplicably, chosen you. 

There has been no awkward what are we talk, thank God really, but— You do want to know what you are. If he feels as good with you as you do with him, if he thinks of you as much, if his smile widens when he talks about you too. If he talks about you at all. Surely he does, right? But what if he doesn’t? What if it’s just fun to him, something he enjoys right now, but not how he imagines his life long term? 

You’re around each other more often than not, one of you sleeping over at the other’s place most nights, and you really could get used to it. To the way he’s touching you constantly, not in a sexual or demanding way, just a warm, heavy reminder of his presence against your skin. You could get used to his jokes, to the way he makes you laugh, to the pull of his lips when he grins at you, to the crinkles around his eyes. To his quiet breathing beside you at night. To how safe he makes you feel. 

And you don’t tell him, but you are getting used to it. 

I had a great evening, thanks again for dinner! Call you later.

You leave the note taped onto his coffee maker, before heading out of his apartment and to work. You have an early meeting, one that you curse silently when you think back on how warm and soft you felt a mere hour ago, wrapped in bedsheets and Oberyn’s arms. 

Absentmindedly, you daydream about him waking up, making his way into the kitchen, his body still bare from the night. It’s a sight you’ll never, ever tire of. The golden skin, the lean strings of muscles rippling under his skin, the dark trail of hair leading down his stomach towards—

You stop dead in your tracks. The note. You drew a heart on the note. You’ve never done that, neither has he. Smileys, yes, but no hearts, no L words— 

But it’s probably fine. Not a big deal. You’re overreacting. It’s just a stupid doodle. You use heart emojis when you text after all, and so does he. Maybe you’ve become a little attached to the whole post-it thing, giving it way more weight than it merits, from a rational point of view. 

Still, you’re cautious when you call him later, but he sounds just like he always does. His voice purring into your ear as he tells you about his day, just as carefree and effortlessly charming as he always is. 

A few days later, you wake up to a note pasted to your fridge. A promise to be back in a few with coffee and croissants from your favorite place. With a little heart drawn into one corner. 

Weeks turn into one month, then two, and you still don’t know what to call this thing that you have with him. 

You almost slipped up a couple of days ago, talking on the phone with him on your lunch break and making plans for the weekend. You were just about to get back into the office building, saying your goodbyes, and your mouth moved faster than your mind, only catching yourself at the very last second. 

“Lov—” you had started to say, then bit your tongue hard when you realized the words it was forming. “Let’s talk later.” 

You didn’t give him a chance to reply, hanging up as quickly as humanly possible. You did not just almost tell him you loved him. Over the fucking phone, of all things. You don’t even know if you love him. Of course you don’t. It’s still way too early for that, right? Right? 

You just love spending time with him. Love how he looks at you, touches you, love the way you feel when you’re with him. But that’s it. A crush, nothing more. 

Things come to a head when you run into an old college friend on your way to dinner. When you introduce them and stumble over your words. 

“This is my—” Your what? Boyfriend? Crush? Situationship? Fuckbuddy? “This is Oberyn,” you settle on, and bravely ignore the quick look of pity she shoots you. 

“Pleasure,” Oberyn purrs, shaking her hand with his usual charming smile on full display, but it flickers off as soon as you keep walking. He grabs your hand, holding it tightly, a small crease forming between his brows. 

He’s unusually quiet through dinner, which makes you ramble to fill the silence, to try making yourself feel like everything is fine. Maybe he is getting bored. Maybe he’d rather spend his Friday night at the club, than listen to you recount your week. 

“Is everything okay?” you ask when you’re back home, leaning against the kitchen island and watching him pace around the room, his head bent, the crease on his forehead more pronounced now. You’re already bracing yourself. Maybe this is it, maybe this is how he’ll leave.

He stops in his tracks and looks up at you, seeming strangely lost, out of his depth. The fridge hums quietly in the corner, filling the silence that stretches on. Finally—

“Why do you only ever tell me the truth when you think I won’t hear it?” 

It’s not angry, not an accusation. Just— a question, like he genuinely doesn’t understand. 

Your hands drop to your sides. This is not what you had expected.

“What do you mean?” 

He takes a step closer to you, reaches for one of your hands, gently holds it in his palm. 

“You like me, don’t you? That is what you said.”

You think back on the very first morning with him. How similar you had felt back then. How the words had tumbled out of your mouth. I think I really like you. And his reply. I think I really like you too.

You nod, squeezing his hand. “I do.” 

“Then why are you scared?”

You avoid his eyes, training your glance on your hands, your intertwined fingers. Gently, his other hand finds your chin, tilting your head up. You melt under the soft, brown warmth of his eyes. 

“I’m not sure if you like me the same way.”

It comes out hushed, breathy. Words that you can’t take back, a weakness that you’re handing over to him. 

His expression softens, his hand traveling up from your chin to cradle your cheek. 

“I thought it was obvious.” He smiles, almost shy, if Oberyn was capable of looking shy. 

“It wasn’t,” you manage to mumble before he leans in, pressing his lips down on yours. Your fingers burrow into his hair, tugging him closer. His hands start roaming over your body, warmth sinking through your clothes and into your skin, anchoring you to him. 

You moan into his open mouth when he grabs your ass and pulls you into him. He nudges your cheek with his nose, prompting you to look at him.

“I make you feel good, don’t I?” he purrs, gently biting your earlobe. 

You moan again, louder this time. Your fingers dig into his shoulder. 

“You do.” 

“You know why that is?” 

His smile paints his voice, all soft and honeyed in your ear. 

“Because you like me?” 

It still creeps in, the tinge of doubt, but you already know it’ll be kissed away before you fall asleep with him by your side tonight. Oberyn nods, the beard on his jaw scratching lightly against your skin. You think you might be melting. 

“A whole fucking lot, princess.”

thank you so much for reading <3 reblog and comments are the best thing and make my day!

[daphwritesworld]

Chapter 2— Into You.

a/n: hiii guys here is the second chapter of the Be My baby series!! Like before I really just want to get this out, so sorry for any spelling/grammar errors. I’ll go back and fix them all later when i’m less tired. But I think I’ll start a tag list for this series if you guys want it. Just comment below on this post if you’d like to be added so you’ll be instantly notified of chapter updates. Thank you for all the support & happy reading < 3 !!

content: Top!Leah, Bottom!Reader, talks of previous sexual encounters, brewing sexual tension, jealous!Leah, fingering (R receiving), squirting, panty sniffing, strap on fucking ( R receiving), and masturbation.

warnings: allusions to heavy dom/sub relationship, talks of injury, Leah busting her ass at practice…again, car sex, flirty!Leah deserves a warning of its own so here you go, some angst, semi-public sex, and choking

synopsis: It's your second day working at Arsenal, and you are struggling with keeping things strictly professional with Leah. Meanwhile, you have some uneasy feelings arise as problems start happening with a fellow medical staffer.

word count: 6.3k

Series Masterlist: here

!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!

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“F-Fuck Leah!” There’s sweat running down your face as it stings your eyes, adding to the tears that are already staining your cheeks. You try to rub your face on the sheets to help, but it just makes her keep you there. A strong hand comes to rest on the back of your head as she pushes your face further into the mattress, leaning over your trembling body as she lets the strap attached to her waist sink even deeper inside of you. Her chest presses against your back as she starts speaking into your ear, “Arch this fucking back for me, again– deeper!” A loud slap rings out across the room followed by an even louder cry from you. “I know you can do better than that. You wanna cum? Then deeper,” her other hand comes to push at your back as you sink closer to the bed. She watches at first, the way your pussy presents itself fully to her. She lets a groan slip from her lips at the way it grips her cock so hard that it partially slides out, giving you some breathing room for a few seconds. She lets you have your breather, but after that she can’t help the way she starts climbing over top of you. Leah plants her feet into the mattress as she bends her body down, her hands gripping the sheets beside your head. When she slides the few inches that slipped out back in– you can’t help the pornographic moan that leaves your mouth. You’ve never felt so full in your life, the new angle giving her access to parts of your pussy that have never been touched before. She’s giving you amounts of pleasure you never knew were possible. Her hips pick up a rougher pace after she lets you adjust, a burning in your tummy forming faster and hotter than you’ve ever experienced. Her lips skim across your back as her lips find your ear, “Cum for me Y/N. I know you want to,” one of her hands reaches around to find your clit. “So be a good girl for me and cum on this co–”

Your alarm clock awakes and blasts through the room, sending you flying as you jump up from the shock. An arm scrambles to smack at the annoying device to turn it off. You sit in the newfound silence for a few moments, letting your heartbeat return to a normal rhythm as you rub the sleep from your eyes. God, you’re so tired from last night. One orgasm turned into two…and then you just couldn’t stop thinking about her. The blonde English defender consuming your every waking thought…and apparently your nightly ones, too. You rub your thighs together as you feel the uncomfortable wetness collected between them. You wonder back to your dream…Well, your memory really. It was of the last night you two spent together. Her fucking you on the bed as the patio doors were left swung open, the sunsetting across the ocean of the beach; a beautiful backdrop to the way you handled each other’s body. A gorgeous end to a magical fairytale…because that’s what Leah is: a fantasy.

You keep reminding yourself that as you get up to start your morning. You enter the bathroom and make your way to the mirror above the sink. You squint your eyes at your reflection and bring a finger up to point at it, "You will keep things strictly professional, Y/N! Keep your pussy in your pants…you slut!" You shake your head at that, rubbing your face as you let a loud groan out. "My god I've gone mad!"

The shower heats up pretty quick, so you start stripping your pajamas off. You don't have a laundry basket yet, so you decide the floor will have to do for now. You cringe at the feeling of peeling off your wet panties, sighing as you look at the ruined pair before slinging them into your pile. The water washes away your worries for a minute, letting your muscles relax as you stretch a little in the comforting space. Then like black magic, she pops up again— front and center in your mind. You try to ignore the tingling between your legs as you reach for your shampoo. You try and ignore it your whole shower routine, but you can't put it off when you're washing your body. The loofa running across your skin as images of Leah go by in your mind is enough to drive the sanest person to their breaking point…so is it really your fault when you subconsciously start rubbing your thighs together? That can be debated. But it's definitely your fault when you slip your free hand down to fuck yourself to those thoughts of her. God dammit, you really have no self control when it comes to her. Note to self: Bitch, stand up!

You finish up your shower before you brush your teeth and throw on outfit. You're getting there early today to meet with the rest of the medical staff. You'll be meeting the head Doctor, head strength & conditioning coach, head of sports of medicine & science, the sports psychologist, the other AT, and the one you're most scared to meet…the old Lead AT whose job you now have. You didn't know when you took the offer that you'd essentially be stealing someone else's job— another woman's at that. You meant to talk to Rose about it yesterday, but that plan got derailed in more ways than one. First you got lost, then your tour went on longer than maybe necessary (but Alessia is just very friendly and charming, okay! Time slipped from you both), and then well, Leah happened...again.

As you make your way to the meeting room, you feel like you're going to throw up the coffee you chugged on the way in. Your stomach is turning over everything running through your mind: will they like you, Leah, will they respect you after leaving your old team in the middle of a season, will you fit in, Leah, will Rose hate you, because you understand why she would, Leah, will the other AT under you hate you for unknowingly demoting her friend/colleague, Leah, and oh god will they all hate you for that? You think you're going to pass out as you come face to face with the door of your destination.

You can hear the rustling of conversation inside and it makes you want to run— an all too familiar feeling running through your veins. You have to take a deep breath and remind yourself that this isn't there. Get a fucking grip girl, you got this. So you shake out your arms, a way to "shake out the nerves" as your mentor taught you. As you go in, your nerves instantly start declining as you see the smiles on almost everyone's face as you enter. Keyword: almost. You know that must be her..Rose. You have so much you want to say to her, but you know you can't in here. Not with everyone's eyes on you two— she deserves a hell of a lot more respect than that.

So for now you do your introductions. You learn all their names, and in the small first impressions you know things will be fine. You've already clocked who you think you'll grow close with. You really like Matt and Laura, the sports psychologist and the other AT. You don't get a chance to even meet eyes with Rose, as it seems she's avoiding you like the plague…But of course you understand why. You just wish she'd at least be social with her familiar coworkers instead of sinking into herself. Like you did. Laura must notice your saddneded look placed towards the other woman, because she gives you a reassuring smile. "She'll come around, just give her a little time."

"I hope you all know I had no clue they'd give me her position when I accepted the offer. I'd never want to steal someone's job— especially with how hard we have to work to earn them," your eyes still stay on the unsmiling women across the room. She's staring down at her phone, elbow sitting on the table as her head rests on her fist.

"We all had a clue. You looked miserable every time the camera panned to you. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to tell that you're running from something that happened there…I don't know how things were at your last club, but I know things can be different here," she's giving you such a genuine smile you can't help the tears the well up in your eyes. She continues upon seeing them, "And you don't have to talk about it until you're ready, or ever if you don't want to."

You smile hoping to reassure her that they are happy tears. "How'd you know I looked so miserable? Did you guys watch my old matches just to see the new addition's skills?" You can't help the laugh that comes out with it.

She mirrors your soft chuckles, "Uh yeah we did— sorry! That's probably a little creepy."

"No, no, it's funny really. But, uhm, yeah..I was really unhappy there. I tried to stick it out till the end of the season, but I..I just couldn't…" You trail off after that, an uneasy nervousness taking over your body as you think back to your time at Barcelona.

Laura's about to say something else when Rose finally speaks up for the first time, "I hate to break up this party, but the girls are about to start training." She says it so monotone, a flat expression matching it on her face. You snap back to reality at that— pushing the past down your throat once again. You know pretending like it never happened is destructive, but you don't care. You have a job to do here, and you can't let your emotions get in the way of that…in more ways than one. You're quickly reminded of that as you exit the room only to be met with the sound of Leah's voice.

Dear lord— you really are going mad.

"Nice to see you found your way here alright today!" Okay now that definitely wasn't in your head. You look down the hall to your left, Alessia walking towards you as she leaves behind her teammates. They're all walking out to the field, and behind Alessia your eyes fixate on the lines leader. She's already looking at you, eyes boring into yours as she keeps walking ahead towards the exit doors.

"Eyes forward Williamson! Or you might not get back up this time," an Irish accent rings out from the group of athletes. A rupture of laughter echoes throughout the sickly white walls. It carries down to Alessia as she mimics the sounds of the girls, turning around to send a reply back, "At this rate she'll have a concussion by the end of the week. I'd put $20 on it," and a whole new roar of commotion starts then. Some girls feeling bad and saying to leave her alone, some pushing at their Captain as they can't control their laughter, and the rest of them making a group chat to solidify their bets.

You almost feel bad…almost, but seeing that red tint cover her cheeks as she swats their teasing hands away is too sweet of a sight. "I'll remember that when you're running extra laps today, McCabe!" She looks back up at you as she says it, licking her lips before her head snaps back forwards. She's gone after that, disappearing out onto the pitch as the rest of the bickering footballers follow her.

Alessia reaches you just as you snap out of your Leah induced trance, a smile reaching your face as she gives you a hug. "I left early today just incase, ended up getting a coffee from the place down the street."

"Ohh smart girl. You must be a fast learner," you two start walking as Rose and Laura go past you. A small wave coming from Laura as she turns her heard to mouth to you, "See you out there, rookie!" You send a wave back, ready to start your first full day.

Yesterday was a damn whirlwind, but today is going to be different. You and Alessia keep chatting as you quickly catch up with everyone else, falling into place as you two separate into your respective spots. You keep your eyes trained on the girls, all except one.

You are actively trying to avoid her gaze, but that doesn't stop you from feeling it burning holes into you. She's not as distracted as yesterday, or at least not as outwardly showing it. Leah's only staring holes through you when she isn't moving this time, even if it's for just a second, her head snaps in your direction. She's getting back in the zone though, comfortable with herself again.

She woke up before the sun even thought of rising to go get the dreaded CT scan you had ordered yesterday. She turned it into her coach as soon as she came out onto the field and he cleared her to play. But she can't stop thinking of you, your body, your voice, and all the possibilities of what you two could be if given the chance. She's determined to have you, to make you hers. And when Leah sets her mind to something…lord help anyone or anything that gets in her way. She's a force to be reckoned with, a fiercely confident and stubborn woman with a drive to get exactly what she wants.

She gets wrapped up as she doesn't have a moment of rest for a while, letting herself fall back into the passion of the game. Football is in her blood and keeps her heart pumping. She's known since the first time she kicked a ball that this is what she's meant to be doing. Even before it was attainable: she has always been destined for greatness. The defender doesn't break from her focus, not until she hears your unmistakable laugh from the sidelines. She looks up and scoffs under her breath at the sight before her.

Alessia had walked up to you after being pulled away to speak with her coach. She asked if you'd check her ankle, claiming that the pain was completely gone and so was the swelling. So you agreed to check her out, squatting down to examine her ankle. She'd made a dumb dad joke, unknowingly to her that those are your favorites. So here you are now, hand resting on Alessia's upper leg as you laugh out at the ridiculous 'so and so walked into a pub' joke setup.

Leah's eyes stay stuck on you now, anger filling her body as she watches you two interact. You won't even look in her direction anymore, but you'll feel up on her teammate you met one day ago? Fine. She can get hurt and gain your attention, too. The anger overrules the logic in her brain and before she knows it she's faking a fall, using all her body weight to drop and hit the ground. She lets out a groan as she bounces a little, not realizing how fast she was running when she made the split second decision. You don't notice straight away, only about a 5 second delay before a harsh voice from behind you cuts in, "Time to shine, La Reina!"

You feel your blood run cold at the nickname given to your former club member being directly used against you. You blink back the tears you feel welling up, running out onto the field as work mode kicks in. You don't even notice it's Leah until you're hovering over her on the field. You come down to your knees so you're at her level. "What happened this time?"

She sighs before sitting up, arms reaching out behind her to keep her propped up. A furrow between her brows settles in before the red on her cheeks starts to, "Y-You were flirting with Russo that's what bloody happened," you notice the roll of her eyes as she says it.

You can't help the small giggle that comes out of you, hands going to check her legs and ankles as you relish in her pouting. "Well maybe if you weren't so focused on glaring daggers into me you wouldn't have noticed."

"So you were flirting with her? You're not even going to deny it? Oh, you are someth-"

"Oh my god, no I wasn't' flirting with Alessia! She's just the only person to greet me so far without a tongue down the throat," you interrupt her as you realize how upset she actually is. "Plus, I wouldn't do that to you, Le. Never," you have to add in the last part. Too scared she'll cause a scene with her dramatic ass if you left it on a teasing note. You're sure she's had enough of that already today. "Now please— just tell me if you're hurt anywhere."

She goes even redder at that, turning into a mess of stutters as she directs her eyes anywhere but at you. 'U-Uh no. I-I'm fine, darling. No need t-to worry."

"But can you look me in the eyes and tell me that," you tease her. A smile pulling at the corner of your lips as you see her reaction.

"Oh fuck off would you!" She gives you that classic Williamson snarl. Face scrunched up into the meanest frown as her eyes find yours again.

"Mhm. Just make sure you give me a ride home tonight, and maybe I won't bench you."

"That seems like an abuse of power, babe." She laughs it out, falling back into her cocky attitude. "If you want me that bad, you just need to ask. No need to black mail me, darling."

The tables turn as you quickly find yourself as the one shyly blushing out a reply. "I didn't mean it like that you perv! God, you are infuriating you know that?"

"So I've been told," she smirks at you.

You rise to your feet before reaching a hand out to help her up. She finds her footing instantly compared to yesterday, jogging a circle around you as her ponytail swings behind her. "So am I clear, Doc? You giving me a clean bill of health?"

You roll your eyes this time, a bright smile breaking out across your lips as you start walking back to the sidelines of the pitch. "Yes, Leah. Now stop staring at me like a creep and go practice, Captain." You start jogging after the last part, quickly trying to clear the field and resolve practice. You don't notice the way her teammates whisper at the interaction between you two, or the way Rose shakes her head at it with a scrawl on her face. All you know is that Leah could flirt with you another time, right now work needs to come first.

You stop in front of the coach, discussing how you think Alessia is ready to come back and that Leah's good to go after her tumble. When you get the go ahead you get back in line with the other AT's, standing next to Laura as a conversation about restocking the med room supplies takes over comfortably. The rest of practice goes by smoothly, aside from the occasional glare from Rose. You try to keep any eye on where she goes after practice, wanting to sneak a moment alone with her to finally talk about everything. You lose her as she disappears into the locker room, not wanting to risk seeing a half naked Leah in such a populated area at the moment. So with a sigh you retreat to pack up your own things for the night, taking a clipboard and writing down a list of items you're low on as you do.

You hear the door open as you finish checking the last cabinet in the room, not looking up before speaking. "Oh Laura, do you know where we put in our order forms? I couldn't find any so I just started writing my own list."

"That's a little out of my job description, love." You turn around at that, coming face to face alone with Leah once again. You can feel your heart speeding up at the sight of her— god dammit she has you hooked. You set the clipboard down as you collect your bags from the floor, taking the time to regain your breath before walking out of the room with her. "Let me carry your bags, they look heavy."

"No, I can carry them on my own just fine, thank you. I have my whole career and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Don't be stubborn and just let me help you!"

"No! It's not like you're my girlfriend, you don't have a reason to carry them."

"Yeah, but I could be."

"W-What? Leah what are you even talking about—"

She stops you two in the dark empty hallway, turning you to face her as she speaks. "I could be your girlfriend," she smirks down at you as she leans in closer. You start backing up until you hit the wall, her body caging you as she finishes her statement. "And you could be mine."

She's so close you swear you can feel her heartbeat against your chest, breath dusting over your cheeks as she stares down at your lips. You're speechless and filled with a mix of emotions at her words, but still you lean up to kiss her. You pull away before she can deepen it though, "We can't, Le."

"Why not?"

"Because we just can't."

"Give me one good reason why we can't go out on a date, Y/N." Her hands cup your cheeks as she speaks, pulling you even closer as her lips tickle against yours.

"Because I don't date my coworkers. It's a rule I have set for myself."

"Well, some rules are made to be broken," and with that you let her capture your mouth with hers. You two get lost in the feeling of sparks flying off your lips, making out up against the wall like a couple of horny teenagers. She kisses you until your lips are raw, stinging, and swollen.

Then she's leading you out, hand in hand to her car. She opens the door for you, stealing a peck from your lips before she shuts it back. Her hand finds your thigh as she squeezes it a bit, sending a hushed whine to fall out into the air of her Audi A5. She licks her lips at the sound, sliding her hand up until she's rubbing you through your jean shorts. "You really think a few buttons is gonna stop me from getting to your pussy, (Y/N)?" She chuckles out as you look at her with wide eyes, freezing as you realize she caught onto the small detail you put into not ending up like this. Of course, she notices.

"Shut up, Le! Just do something already," there's a frustrated lilt to your voice, hips pushing down into the pressure of her hand through the denim. She pulls her touch away at that, her hand coming up to your face as she grips your jaw to face her. "Last time I checked, I don't give brats what they want. Try again like a good girl, and maybe I'll let you cum tonight."

You huff out at that, but you hold back on the eye roll that almost comes out of you. You know Leah well enough to know she's deadly serious, if you don't repeat your request in manner fitting to her standards? She'll drive you home and not touch you properly the whole way, teasing touches that never give you quite enough to get any real relief. It's just enough to have you dripping and desperate for her, begging when you both know it's far too late for her to give in. If Leah's one thing then it's being as stubborn as a brick wall. She will not break. No matter what you say, what you do, or how much you cry— she's not budging in her decisions. So you best listen the first time she allows you to correct yourself. With that knowledge in mind, you relax your face before giving into the English woman.

"Please make me feel good, Le." She laughs at your attempt. "I know you can do better than that," her grip gets tighter as her other hand starts unbuttoning your shorts. "And you know you have to tell me what you want, Y/N."

"Want your fingers, Le! Want you to fuck me till I'm making a mess on your expensive leather seats— please!" You whining louder now, growing confidence in the power play you two slip back into so easily. It's comforting and familiar in a new world of scary and unknown, and maybe that's why you keep finding yourself giving into her so easily…Or maybe it's because she knows your body better than anyone else— including yourself.

She smirks this time, slipping her hand down from your jaw onto your neck as her other one slides into your opened shorts. Your hands instinctually go to wrap around her wrist, nails digging into her flesh as she starts rubbing circles onto your panty covered clit. Your reaction is instant as you let small hums of pleasure escape you, grinding into the pressure once more now that it's more direct. Your gaze stays on hers as it intensifies, keeping you enchanted with the beauty of her crystal blue eyes. She tugs on your neck, bringing you into a heated kiss before she's slipping two of her fingers inside you. You let a moan out into her mouth and Leah takes the advantage to slide her tongue into yours. Her thumb rests on your clit as she lets you take a second, rubbing little shapes into the bundle of nerves. She starts moving her fingers as her tongue clashes with yours, a fight for dominance she quickly wins. It's hard to stand your ground when you've got long, thick fingers filling you up, okay? You try!

She doesn't pull away. Not until you can't breathe and you're both gasping for air as your chests heave up and down. Her lips move down to find your neck, mouth going to work as she speeds her thrusts up. You don't even think to tell her to stop. Consequences so far from your mind at the moment that you'd probably let her fuck you on the hood. You just relish in the way she curls her fingers inside your pussy, sending bolts of electricity through your body as your high approaches in no time. You look down between your thighs and you almost moan out loud at the sight of Leah's muscular arm flexing with every move she makes. You can't help the way you start riding her fingers at that point, breathy whines of her name leaving your lips like a prayer. "Le-Leah! Oh fuck, baby— please lemme cum, Le!"

"Already? I don't think so, darling. Hold it for me," she's laughing at you, vibrations moving through your neck as she keeps her lips pressed against your skin there. And dear god you want to cry when she says that. Sure you can make yourself cum— but not like she can. Oh no. You both know that's true, that's why you're bouncing on her fingers in the parking lot of your new employment. No one else would ever have you acting like this— they never have. Only Leah has ever had this kind of magnetic pull to her that you can't seem to resist. It's impractical and messy…but you know you can't quit her. Even if you can't admit it to yourself yet, she's got you wrapped up so tight around her finger that it's a little concerning…she's got you wrapped tight around two of her fingers right now if you wanna be specific, but that's not the point.

She groans out as she pulls back to watch you, eyes fixated on the way your breasts bounce along with the thrusts. You move one of your hands to wrap around her forearm between your thighs, and feeling the muscles move under your touch only sends you closer to the edge. Your hips start to stutter as your breathing picks up, you go to open your mouth and beg her a second time, but she cuts you off. "Go ahead, love. Cum for me," The next words come out in a growl as she puts more pressure on thumb attached to your clit, "Make a mess on my fucking seat so I can make you lick it clean afterwards."

Your eyes roll back at the sequences of actions, thighs closing around her arm as she keeps fucking you through your high. "Just like that, baby." She keeps going after your done though, a sensitive ache taking over your pussy from her treatment. "T-Too much, Le!" She darkly chuckles at that, a harsh tone coming off her next words.

"You can take fucking more," she switches to a softer one as she continues, "Just one more, darling. I know you've got it in you."

She pulls her fingers out of your cunt slowly, using her two soaked fingers to rub your clit now. She keeps going even after your thighs start shaking, her stamina much higher from her pro athlete training. She only said one more, but by the look of determination across her face…you know she's not done with you yet. Your poor clit hasn't had a single break since she first touched it god knows how long ago. It creates a knot in your stomach to form that you haven't felt since you were last at her mercy. Your voice goes up a few octaves and your eyes start to cross as your hands claw at any piece of her you can reach. "Leah!" You don't even get enough time to ask for permission before the liquid gushes out of your cunt and it seeps through your denim shorts to collects on her seat. You don't even get a second to breathe, not when her hand finds place in your hair and starts yanking you into the floorboard. "Now clean it up like a good girl, darling. Show me how much you appreciate what I've given you."

Your cheeks flush a deep shade of red as lean your head down towards her passenger seat. There isn't a shit ton of your squirt there, but enough for you to get shy about it. The leather feels weird against your tongue, but you make quick work of collecting the arousal onto it. You let your eyes drift up to her as you slurp up the last drop, sticking your tongue out to show her before you finish the job with a lick to your lips. She can't help the moan that leaves her this time, pulling your body back up into the seat as you start kissing again. As soon as she pulls away she's shoving her fingers into your mouth as your tongue goes to suck them clean. Your eyes still stay on hers as you do, wrapping both your hands around her wrists as you start bopping your head onto them. Leah thinks she's gonna cum in her fucking sweat pants at this point, her pussy throbbing harder than it has this whole time. She can’t wait to have you choking on her strap again…all in due time tho.

She breaks after you pull them of out of your mouth, sending a kiss to the tips of her fingers before you return her hand to her. She is fucking short circuiting right now, her lips drop open as she stares at you in awe. It makes you smile, a newfound confidence taking over as you lean across the center console and press a quick kiss to her lips. You think you pulled away in time but she catches you just as fast as you left, pulling you in close as you start your third make out session of the day..and your fifth since yesterday— but like who is counting? You get so lost in kissing her that you only pull away after you catch a glimpse of the time shining on her dash. You pull back from her warm embrace, a surprised gasp leaving you as you go to put your seatbelt on. "Noooo, come back," she pulls at your neck, trying to get your mouth back onto hers. The next words you get out are rushed.

"Le, we really can't. It's 11:30 already and— shit! I have to walk into my building looking like I pissed myself. This is just fucking great," you throw your head back against the seat in frustration. See this is what happens when you have no self control like the pussy whipped slut that you are.

"Hey, hey, hey calm down motor mouth! I missed some of that, but I think I got the gists of it. I have extra sweats in my bag you can borrow. Just leave your ruined panties and shorts in here, and I'll wash them with my practice laundry. I am sorry I kept you out so late, though…but I promise I'll make up for it tomorrow," She rubs your jaw with her thumb as she says it. A soft smile overtaking her features as she soothes you back to calmness with the action.

"Thank you, Le. You really don't have to do all of that though. The sweatpants are enough," you can't mistake the way your heart flutters at even the offer of the gesture. It feels too intimate for the reality of your situation, but you don't push it too hard. "Yes, Y/N, I know that, but I want to. So just let me help you. Please?" There's something different about the way she says it. Like she knows that you always rely on only yourself and never take help from others without a fight. It's a survival technique you picked up a long time ago, but only Leah has ever noticed it..or at least cared enough to call it out.

So with a sigh you take a deep breath before nodding your head, rolling your eyes as you can't hide the grin spreading out on your lips. "Okay, okay! You win. You can keep my cum soaked panties like the pervert you truly are, Williamson."

She pushes at your shoulder at the remark, "Oi! Better watch your mouth or I'll stuff 'em in there till I drop you off!"

She hops out to run to her trunk, grabbing the extra pair of lounging pants as she makes her way back to hand them to you. You change in the front seat and it's…very fucking difficult to say the least. But a few shared laughs with Leah and a couple awkward positions is all it takes for you to be redressed, sitting back in your seat as you settle down with a giggle. You go to put on your seatbelt to match her, but she takes it from you, her hands lightly sliding into yours before she buckles it for you. She starts the Audi and puts it into drive as she goes to leave the parking lot. She doesn't need your address this go round, one time was enough for Leah to memorize the drive. Her hand finds your thigh for once more tonight, resting it there as you converse about what coffee shops are the best around. You end up agreeing to let her show you around the town on your next day off together, but repeatedly insisting that it is NOT a date.

You're in front of your door before you know it, Leah walking you up for the second night in a row now. You two share one last passionate kiss before you start pushing her away. "Okay, now you really do have to go. It's already midnight, Le. I'll see you in the morning, Captain Williams."

"Yes, you will, and you better not ignore me this time either!" She says it with that classic Leah frown.

"No promises," you fail at hiding your laugh as you say it.

She pulls you back in to steal one more kiss, sucking the breath from your lungs as she does. It's a kiss like the one she gave you yesterday at your door, and it completely steals away your ability to breathe. She's making you fall deeper and deeper into this game you two have going on. You know you'll wake up tomorrow and say to yourself that you can't let this continue on…right before going to work and throwing that pep talk right out of the window as soon as you see or hear her. She's not just some one night stand you had and you both know it, but when will you stop lying to yourself about? Only god knows.

"You just be ready for our date on Thursday. I'm already planning the day in my head, and it's going to be perfect!"

"Le, I told you It's not a date!"

"We'll see about that, darling."

And with that…she's off. Leaving you at your door clad in her pants as you watch her figure disappear into the elevator once more. You try not to think about how this is easily turning into routine between you two. The domestic act of her paying to park just to walk you up to your room doesn't slip by you either. Maybe it really isn't like Barca here, and maybe things can truly be different in so so many more ways than one. You sleep in Leah's sweats tonight, wrapped up in her scent as it drifts you off to sleep.

But Leah herself? Oh, she definitely sniffs your dirty panties as she makes herself cum. Yeah, she is a pervert, as you stated earlier...but only for you. Only you could get her so wound up and resorting to such a desperate act of degeneracy. She checks the time when she finally finishes: 1:23am it reads back to her. She groans out a sleepy sound of discomfort as she tosses your dirty underwear into her laundry basket, turning off her bedside lamp as the darkness of night consumes her. Her mind isn't so lucky, because now she's thinking of all the places she going to take you on your date. Yes date— you can deny it all you want, but like we've discussed: Leah Williamson always gets what she wants when she's determined…and she's never been this determined about anything before. So she decides right then and there— in the dead of night and the pitch black atmosphere, that by the end of the season…you will fully be hers. Not some secret hookup or whatever the fuck you two are now. No, Leah’s mind is set in making you her pretty girl who stands on the sidelines with her cute little first aid bag, ready to go. Hell, if she’s real lucky you’ll be her WAG on the on med staff, a shiny ring sitting on your finger as her physical claim of you. She finally starts to fall asleep to those thoughts, a smile gracing her lips as she prays that she sees your beautiful face in her dreams tonight.

[nakidoriii]

See you later, Mr. President (Part 5)

Hawks x FemReader! mini series

FIND PARTS 1-4 HERE

Warnings: adult themes, smut, anxiety, accusations of sexual assault, creampie || MDNI

Art: Pinterest! (If you know the artist please tag them! )

“The media is taking this story and running with it, Mr.President. You’ll need to make an announcement addressing it.” Keigo’s publicist said over the phone.

“Will I need to reveal the identity of the woman in the video?” Kiego says sternly.

“Possibly… we can try to avoid it since in the video you can’t really see her face but it is very obvious that she’s not from here. The internet might find her on their own. Who is she, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“It’s Y/N. She works with the company that wants to do business with the HPSC. We’ve been secretly going out for a month. Her company told her that she is not to get involved with anyone who works at the HPSC. I'm afraid she’s going to lose her job because of this.” Keigo explains.

“I remember meeting her in the office a few times. She’s very sweet and it’s sad that her company would fire her over this. Ultimately, we need to see how the public reacts to this and what it does to your public image. People might love it since it plays into your old reputation before the war or it could be perceived in a different light…a negative one. I’ll write up something for you to say but I know you will end up saying whatever comes to you at the moment.”

He lets out an agitated sigh and says, “This is such a load of crap but it is what it is. Thank you. Sorry for bringing you into this mess.”

“It’s my job, Mr. President. Try not to worry too much?”

“I don’t give a fuck about what the public thinks. I wouldn’t even respond to this if she wasn’t involved. I’m terrified to know what Y/N will say.” He says nervously.

“It’ll be okay. Keep me updated, sir.” She says as she hangs up the phone.

Keigo walks over to the bathroom that you’re in and knocks on the door. He figured that your phone call was about the video too. He just wanted to confront the situation head on.

“Y/N, Can you open the door?” He says while pressed up against the door.

Keigo knew that you couldn’t have been taking this well. He felt terrible knowing that he’s the reason this is happening to you. You open the door with your phone pressed against your ear. You look at him. Your eyes were glossy from the tears you’re trying to hold back. Your face was honestly a mix of emotions. You looked pissed but your eyes showed sorrow. All Keigo knew was that he needed to fix all of this.

“I have to go, Mira. I need to talk to Keigo so we can figure this out.” You say into the phone. You hang up and give him your undivided attention. You press your lips together and cross arms, waiting for him to say something.

“I am so deeply sorry. You have every right to be upset. I don’t know what I was thinking, acting like that in a public setting and I know better. I was the number two hero of Japan and I didn’t think to check for fucking cameras?” He says with his hand resting on the back of his neck. “I will do everything in my power to make sure we can fix this. Remember what I told you? I’m an optimistic guy. I will fix this.” He declares.

You want to be angry at him but his words just make tears form in your eyes. You press your lips together as they start to quiver. Keigo notices and starts to say, “No, nooooo, don’t cry, baby.”

Too late. The tears come streaming down your face as he pulls you into a hug. You couldn’t hold them back any longer.

“It’s not completely your fault. This was a mutual decision. Just knowing you have my back helps with the anxiety.” You spoke softly through your tears.

“I will take the blame for everything. We will see how everything unravels tomorrow.” He says while rubbing your back. “But for now, we should finish our dinner.”

You can tell Keigo’s demeanor is slightly off. You rub your thumb over the scar that’s placed on his jaw. You were being soft with him, egging him on to tell you how he really felt, with your touch. He looked at you with such serious eyes.

“I don’t want to lose you over this.” He blurts out. “I am so unbelievably into you that I will shoulder this burden for you. My only goal is to make sure you’re happy with the outcome and if you aren’t, I’ll do whatever I can until you are.”

His words carried weight. Everything he said, he truly meant it. You were worried about the outcome but now you’re starting to believe him when he says he will handle it. Hearing those words lit a fire in you. You grab him by his face and pull him into a passionate kiss. He seems a bit surprised but he’s happy you're not upset.

“You won’t get rid of me that easily.” You say as you pull away from the kiss. “Let’s continue our dinner. You put a lot of thought and effort into tonight and it shouldn’t go to waste.”

You grab your phone and turn it off. He does the same. You smile at him as you both sit back down and continue your at home yakiniku. You reach for the wine bottle he had set out earlier and fill your cup.

“Have you ever been through something like this?” You say with a slight giggle.

“Hmm, I’ve been stabbed, shot, held hostage, kidnapped, been a part of publicity stunts, but I’ve never had a border line sex tape leak. That’s a new one for me. What about you?” He says nonchalantly.

“I haven’t been through any of that. What the fuck, haha.” You burst out laughing.

He starts to laugh with you realizing that the tape is not the craziest thing that’s happened to him. “What is one of the craziest things you’ve been through then?” He asks.

You think while taking a sip of wine. The thought comes to you and you say, “Okay, I emergency landed a full plane using my quirk.”

Keigo’s jaw drops as he realizes what you just said.

“What the actual fuck, hahaha. For someone who isn't a hero that’s a big fucking deal. Your quirk has to be more than just a high IQ, Y/N. What’s your real quirk?” He says while taking a bite.

“Fiiinnee.” You whine. “If I read a manual or instructions, I can do that said thing proficiently.” You admit.

“Ooohh, so you read the plane’s manual and you were able to land it.” You nod your head to his statement as you take another big sip of wine. “That must have had your adrenaline pumping.”

“Yea, it was crazy. I don’t know what took over me. I didn’t want anyone to die and then I thought to myself ‘Fuuuck, I’m gonna die if I don’t do something’ so I just got over myself and did it.” You said. You and Keigo started laughing, realizing that you were getting tipsy.

He finally felt that he was seeing the real you. You were so goofy and your sense of humor was unmatched. The way you’d talk with your hands when you got excited about something, or the way your laugh filled a room. He was falling for you, hard. By the time you two finished dinner, it was 3 in the morning. You managed to help him clean his kitchen even though you both were pretty drunk.

“Now that the kitchen is clean, I should probably head home.” You say as you dry the last dish.

Keigo bursts out laughing and says, “It’s 3 in the morning, you're not going anywhere. I have a guest bedroom and clothes you can wear.”

You were hoping he’d offer you to stay but you weren’t sleeping in a guest bedroom. You got up and hugged him from behind, wrapping your arms around his chiseled torso.

“Couldn’t I just sleep with you?” You say softly with your face pressed against his upper back.

He blushes at how forward you’re being with him. He loves it considering he usually makes the first move.

“Y-yea, you can sleep with me.” He stumbles over his words.

You started to rub on his torso, getting dangerously close to the bulge in his pants. He watched as you slowly began unbuttoning his pants. You took your time, wanting to tease him since you two often had quickies. You held your hand up his mouth and told him to spit. He does as you say almost immediately, knowing what your plan is. You kissed the back of his neck as you pulled out his dick and started stroking his hard on.

“Mmnnhh, Y/N. Yeaa, just like that.” He moans as he throws his head back. His eyes met with the back of his skull as you kissed and licked the outer shell of his ear.

“I love watching you squirm.” You whisper.

He moans and squirms as a response to your comment. You couldn’t help but leave hickeys on the side of his neck. You know, just like he did the first night you two shared together. The way your name kept spilling out of his mouth, you knew he was close. He places his hand on your wrist and stops you. Before you could even process what was happening, he turned around and placed his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you towards him. You shared the same breath as you looked into each other's eyes.

“Let’s take this upstairs.” He added in a low hum as he caressed your face.

He hikes up your skirt and picks you up by thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist while you hold onto him. You start to giggle as you two drunkenly head to his bedroom. He lays you down on his king sized bed, staying on top of you. It only took a matter of seconds before your skirt was balled up on the floor and your clit between his lips. His gaze was locked on you as he dragged his tongue through your slick.

“Keigo, fuck.” You whine as you push his face into your wetness.

He groans as if he was feeling your pleasure. He pushes your legs up to your ears as he buries his face deeper into your folds. You hold your legs in place allowing him to focus fully on you. He slides two fingers in as he continues sucking on your clit. Your small whimpers grew into long moans and curse words. Within a matter of minutes, he had you nearing your first orgasm of the night.

“You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” He moans into you.

You start panting as you cum, legs up by your ears and shaking. You scream his name as you cover his face in your juices. He continues dragging his tongue up and down your slick as you ride out your orgasm. By the time you come down from your high, he’s already undressed and rubbing the tip of his cock at your entrance.

“Fuck, I love seeing you like this.” He moans. He furrows his brows once he realizes you still had your top on. “Take your fucking tits out.” He demands.

You bite your lip and do as he says, leaving you in just the jewelry you had on. He slides into you slowly, watching as your face contorts due to him stretching you out.

“Oh my god, you feel me in there baby?” He says as he slowly starts moving his hips.

You nod your head and say, “Mhmmm, you feel soooo good.”

He smiles at your response and picks up the pace. He props your legs onto his shoulders causing him to hit deeper into you. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, watching his abs flex as his hips snapped towards yours at an alarming rate. He always fucked you good but he was being nasty tonight. He turns his head and licks up your calf, his lips ending up around your toes.

“Ah! I love when you get like this.” Your words come out in between moans which fuels his arousal.

He leans forward, placing his hands on your waist as he fucks into you. Each thrust causes your tits to bounce in the moonlight. You desperately grip on to the sheets under you as he drills into you. He couldn't help but to smile once he heard you cry out. Your walls clenched around his dick as he pushed into your g-spot for a second time.

“You like that baby? Did I find your sweet spot?” He obviously knew the answer to that question but he wanted to hear you say it.

“Y-yes, fuck. right there!” You whine as you feel him pushing you towards your second orgasm of the night. At this point, you were seeing stars. The tight knot that’s been building up in your stomach was coming undone. Keigo thrusts only got deeper and harder as you came on him. He was trying his best not to cum but the feeling of your walls pulsating around him along with you talking him through it pushed him there. The little remarks you made about being filled with his cum also had a hand to play in his orgasm. Whenever you asked for it, he had to give it to you. How could he resist?

“Filled to the fucking brim.” He says as he pulls out of you, watching his cum spill out of you. He leans down and kisses your forehead before he walks over to his bathroom. When he comes back, he cleans you up and puts one of his old t-shirts on you.

“You need anything else, pretty girl?” He says in a low voice as he lays down next to you.

“I’m okay, my love.” You reply as you snuggle into his solid frame.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you by his side. He leaves small kisses on the top of head as his hand snakes under the t-shirt you had on. His calloused fingertips rubbing up and down your back as you both fell asleep.

*******************************************************

Keigo is not typically a morning person. He often struggles getting out of bed. However, this morning, he had gotten up before you and went down to the kitchen to make breakfast. He was trying to make your day as smooth as possible even though it was going to be a bad day regardless.

“You’re up before me?” You say mid yawn.

“I am. You were knocked out.” He says as he walks over to you giving you a kiss on your forehead. “Good morning, how do you like your eggs?”

“Scambled, please.” He walks back over to the stove and starts cooking your eggs. You sit down at the kitchen island and examine scars on his back. They look like healed burn wounds. You let out a sigh and say, “Have you turned on your phone this morning?”

“I guess we have to talk about it huh? You ready to hear it?” You nod your head yes as you prepare for what he’s about to tell you. “I turned on both our phones. The video has gone viral with a split reaction from the public. Some people are saying that I assaulted you, others are saying it was passionate and that we know each other. Your employer has a feeling that it’s you in the video because they want to do a video call around noon today… with both of us.”

You get up from the barstool and start pacing around the kitchen. You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out a sigh, followed with, “Wait, they think you assaulted me?! Keigo, I have to make a statement! I would hate for your public image to be tarnished over accusations.”

“My publicist was saying that. She had a feeling some people would watch that video and think the worst. If you do make a statement, you’re revealing your identity to the public and to your employer. Which also means we’d have to announce that we are a couple. I don’t think your employer will like that.” He says as he plates your food and hands it to you.

“It has to be done. I don’t like that people are perceiving you that way, when that’s not the truth. At this point, I’ve accepted the fact that I could lose my job. I am scared but after what you said to me last night, I have to do the same for you. I will stand beside you and do whatever I can to clear these accusations. You’re such a good man. Itadakimasu.” You sit down with the food and start eating.

Hearing you say that you’d stick beside him gave him a full body chill. He wanted to tell you now more than ever that he was falling in love with you. He sits down next to you and starts eating his breakfast.

“Do you want to take a look for yourself?” Keigo asks.

“Yea, my mind is made up.” He hands you your phone. You stare at the black screen, nervous as to what will be on it when you open it. Keigo notices your hesitation and places his hand on your back.

“Remember, we will get through this.” He says softly as he rubs your back.

this zoom meeting about to go crazzyyy. new pitcure and dividers for part 5 since we are now half way through the series! I hope you all are enjoying everything!

PART 6

taglist: @zinflo @seijuroww @beabamboo @beautifulsandwichcrown

If you'd like to be on the taglist, comment below!

Please do not alter or steal my writings.

[crowsofdarkness]

Arranged: Chapter Nine

*gif not mine. credit to owner*

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: language, 18+ smut(ch 12 & ch 17), angst, fluff, mentions of death and violence. I will update the warnings with each chapter.

Summary: Reader would do anything to make her parents happy and that included agreeing to an arranged marriage. She never expected it to be to one of New York's most feared Mob Boss: Bucky Barnes. He is anything but loving towards Reader however when her parents are mysteriously killed, Bucky makes it his mission to find out who were at fault. And in the process, ends up coming close to losing Reader.

Authors Note: If anyone who is interested wants to be tagged, let me know!

The smell of coffee was trapped in my nose as I poured two full cups before setting the pot back, a smile on my face. Thoughts of last night kept replaying in my mind and I haven’t been able to stop smiling since I woke up a bit ago. 

Bucky had returned home last night sometime after midnight and let me know with a soft kiss to the forehead before retreating back into his room. When I awoke this morning, there was a note from him saying he had a meeting right away at 10 am but was free the rest of the day so we could do whatever I wanted. 

The only thing I wanted to do was pick up where we left off last night before Steve interrupted. 

With both mugs in hand, I quickly made my way down the long hallway towards Bucky’s office, knowing I had a few minutes before his meeting and figured he would like a warm cup of coffee to start it. 

The door was open so with a soft knock, I walked in only to freeze in place at what I had seen. 

There was one man who I had remembered seeing outside of the lab the other day holding open a briefcase that held 10 vials of some kind of blue liquid. 

Dr. Banner, I remember Bucky and Steve calling him that. 

There was another man, darker skin than the rest, and he stood behind Banner with a hand ghosting over the gun on his hip. 

Steve and Bucky were standing across from the two men, them each holding a vial of the liquid. When I walked into the room, both of their eyes landed onto me. Anger filled Bucky’s eyes and he hurriedly placed the vial back into the briefcase before slamming it shut. 

His jaw glanced while lips snarled  in anger, eyes cutting deep into me. 

“What the hell are you doing in here?” Bucky asked. 

I held up the cups of coffee before setting them down on his desk. “I thought you would want some before your meeting. Clearly it started earlier than you said.” 

Bucky gripped my elbow and led me into the hallway, spewing curses falling from his lips. 

“Did you even bother to check the door?” He snapped.

I ripped my arm out of his grasp and placed my weight onto my left foot. “Yes, it was wide open and I even knocked before coming in.” 

“Go upstairs, I’ll talk to you later.” 

I sliced my eyes into him. “Are you going to tell me what I just walked into?” 

Bucky grasped my wrist and began leading me towards the stairs which only made me more furious and this time, I yanked myself free while pushing him back slightly. 

“Don’t you put your hands on me again!” I pointed a finger at him. 

He ran a hand over his face. “Y/N, I’m not saying it again. Go upstairs. NOW!”

I jumped slightly at the sudden change in his voice but didn’t let it phase me. 

“Is it drugs? Is that what this whole secrecy is because you’re selling or buying drugs?” I questioned with my arms over my chest. “Was your guy going to shoot the doctor after he gave you those vials? Got what you wanted so now you don’t need him anymore?” 

“It’s none of your business,” Bucky began. 

“The hell it isn't!” I snapped, my voice without a doubt being heard by the men in his office. “You brought me into this mess the second we signed the papers!” 

It had only been a few days but I was already sick of the lies and secrets, I needed Bucky to tell me the truth on what he’s into. I was his wife now. 

“Why did you even sign them?!” Bucky wondered, hands on his hips. “You hesitated signing them.” 

“Oh my god,” I pinched my eyes shut, a sudden headache rattling my brain. “It was nothing, Bucky; nerves.”

“Bullshit! Why did you hesitate?” Bucky drilled the question again.  

“Because I don’t want this!” I screamed. “I wanted to marry someone I love, someone that I can see having a family with. Someone that doesn’t hide shit from me. And someone that doesn’t fucking kill people for a living!” 

Bucky’s eyes flashed with hatred at my words. “You have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.” 

I scoffed while standing on my toes. “I thought that after last night we were finally in a good place. I was starting to feel something for you. How fucking wrong I was.” 

He sliced his eyes into me. “What kind of woman needs her parents to set her up in a marriage? How pathetic. I’m starting to think I should have found the first broad I found in the city and married her. At least she would give me what I want.” 

My heart shattered, falling into the depths of my stomach and I could feel the corner of my eyes well up. But I refused to let him know that his words cut deep. The Bucky from last night was nowhere in sight. This one was meaner and I suddenly wanted nothing to do with this one. 

“Go fuck yourself, Bucky. We might be married now but that doesnt mean I have to be seen with you,” I seethed. 

With another shake of my head, I left him to go back to whatever he had been doin prior in his office; tears falling freely over my cheeks. 

Silence. 

That's all that was heard throughout the large home for the last couple of days, me being the only one here. After our huge fight, Bucky left for a business trip, Barb’s words. She was here the first day he left but I told her she didn’t need to stay for me and gave her the rest of the week off. 

Something she was grateful for. 

Steve had to go with Bucky, meaning that if I were to go out it would be on my own without any protection. Which really didn’t matter to me because I ended up being held up in my room. He had sent me a text earlier today to let me know that he would be arriving back home tonight. I didn’t even bother to reply. 

There were some hurtful things hurled by the both of us and it wasn’t something I was going to sweep under the rug. I would be willing to apologize, only if he was as well. 

My phone began to buzz on my table and I answered it with a groan, not bothering to check who was calling. 

“Well hello to you too, dear. Rough day?” 

I sat up in bed more and sighed. “Hi mom. Sorry, I was asleep.” 

“Oh sorry for waking you. I just wanted to check in and see how marriage life is going?” 

“Great,” I lied, not bothering to tell her about the fight. I didn’t want her to think things weren’t great. 

Even if they weren’t. 

“Good! Your father and I knew Bucky was the right choice for you, you two complement each other so well.” 

I shook my head. “Mom, do you even know who he is?” 

“He owns the laboratory in town. All the papers say he’s been finding the next cure for some kind of sickness, ya know? He’s such a good man, Y/N.” 

“Look, I’m tired and don’t really feel like talking right now. Can I call you later?” I asked. 

“Sweetheart, everything alright? Because if it’s not, you can talk to me.” 

I scoffed. “No offense mom but the reason why I’m feeling like this is because you guys forced me to marry this complete stranger who you know nothing about! I barely know him and you and dad practically threw me into his arms. Did you even ask if he wanted this? Because he fucking doesnt!” 

“Watch your language, Y.N! I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that.” 

I squeezed my eyes shut while pressing a hand to my forehead. “I’m really not in the mood to deal with this shit now.” 

Before I could hear my mom yell some more, I hung up the phone and tossed it into the drawer of the table next to me. The last thing I wanted at this moment was to deal with her disappointment in the fact that I wasn’t giving this marriage a try. 

I went back to the book that I had almost forgotten I was reading before the phone call and let the rest of the night pass with no other issues, that was until Bucky returned home. With my open door, I heard Bucky ascend the stairs, letting out a deep breath once he reached the top. I peaked over the top of my book and looked out into the hallway where Bucky stood with his hands deep into his pockets, tired eyes staring at me. 

Even if I was upset with him, he still looked breathtaking in his black sweats with a matching sweater. His usual combed back hair was a mess, strands falling all into his face due to the traveling. His whole aura screamed ‘cuddle with me’ but I needed to hold my composure; I wouldn’t fold first. 

My eyes returned back to my book and I heard Bucky let out another deep sigh before he disappeared into his room, the door slamming behind him. 

Some time had passed and my eyelids became heavy, sleep slowly overtaking my body and I set the book down, ready to close my eyes and forget about the last week. My phone, however, began ringing non stop in the drawer next to me. I ignored it, thinking it was my mom again, but when it rang for a third time, I knew that it had to have been something more important. 

“Hello?” I answered. 

“Hi, is this Mrs. Barnes?” 

My heart flipped. It had been the first time I heard myself being called that. 

“Uh, yeah. Who is this?” 

“This is Detective Roth with the NYPD. We’re calling on behalf of your parents.” 

I sat up in bed with a quick start. “Are they alright?” 

“No, I’m sorry. They’re bodies were found in their homes just a few minutes ago. We believed that they were murdered.” 

The detective's voice had become white noise as my brain began processing the new information. 

My parents were dead? 

Murdered?

In their own home? 

I then remembered the phone call I had with my mom just an hour ago and I let out a strangled sob, realizing that was our last conversation. My bottom lip trembled as I let out a shaky breath before the tears began to fall, droplets falling onto the blanket and a loud sob choked its way out of my throat. Tears collected into my eyelashes and I swatted them away. 

“No!” I wailed, tossing the phone across the room. “NO!” 

Sobs attacked my entire body as I writhed underneath the blanket, the pain overtaking me as I continued to scream. 

“Doll?” 

Bucky’s voice was muffled through my sobs and he was blurred due to the tears filling my eyes.

“What’s going on?” 

Bucky was in my bed in an instant, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his chest. I grasped at hsi shirt, tears staining it immediately. I sobbed, loudly, as I tried to tell him what happened. 

He hushed my cries with a kiss to my hairline and rubbed circles on my back, hoping it would calm me. 

“What happened, Y/N?” Bucky asked once more. 

I looked up at him, tears falling from my swollen eyes. “My parents are dead. Someone killed them.” 

Sobs broke out of me again as my body writhed in his grasp and I buried my face back into Bucky’s chest. I hadn’t noticed the large scowl that came to his face as he wrapped his arms even tighter around me. 

“It’s alright, doll. I’m here.” Bucky cooed into my ear.

[gunwoo-bh]

The Night Shift - Part 7 [Min Yoongi x f!Reader]

MIN YOONGI x F!READER UniStudent!Yoongi AU SUMMARY: You chose a boring, quiet job at your campus’s 24-hour library for a reason: it kept you away from drama, gossip, and parties. It was positively uneventful. Until it wasn’t. Warnings: swearing, teasing, lots of flirting, definitely some fluff, mild sexual tension, some drinking A/N: THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR WAITING. I have been working hard on this and it is the longest chapter I've ever written. Things are finally happening between Yoongi and reader and I'm really excited for what's next. I have updated the tag list and if I forget anyone? Please let me know. ENJOY :D

THE NIGHT SHIFT

PART 7

The morning of the couch retrieval is chaotic. 

For one, your building elevator stops working and is under maintenance. Of course. So, this means you’ll have to take your old couch down the stairs and the new one up the stairs. Not ideal, but manageable. 

Two, the girls have woken up later than intended, which isn’t the worst thing to happen. Yoongi’s friends Jungkook and Hoseok are also late. His text definitely made it sound like they had drunk too much the day before. 

And three, your stomach is shambles. When you all discussed the plans for that day, it was agreed that Yoongi and yourself would be going to get the couch in the van. Jungkook and Hoseok will go along with you in Hoseok’s car, to help you load it in the van and return ahead to help Eunji and Hwayoung bring the old couch down since you’d have to drive slower. 

Oh, and yes, reason four why the morning was chaotic? No one wanted to bring the couch down the night before so it has to get done today. 

You are absolutely going stir crazy with the fact that you’re going to be in a car with Yoongi alone for at least two hours. The two of you have been texting even more than the usual, and even flirting too. And you have been looking forward to this day since he offered to help but now that it’s here, you wonder if you’ll be able to survive the stress of it all.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, grabbing it and smiling at none other than Yoongi’s text.

Yoongi [8:49 AM]: Even though we’re leaving later than we wanted…

Yoongi [8:49 AM]: It’s still too early (sad face emoji)

You [8:50 AM]: Have I said how happy and grateful I am? (smiling face emoji)

He reads the message but doesn’t answer. 

You hear the doorbell, running out of your bedroom to the door as you press the call button, “Hello?”

“It’s me. I’m downstairs.” Yoongi.

You smile brightly, something he can probably hear in your voice, “I’ll be right there!” You run to grab your bag, Eunji and Hwayoung watching you with glee as you yell out, “I’ll see you guys later! Meet us downstairs!”

You hurry down like your life depends on it, smiling ear to ear as you slow down on the last flight of stairs. You look up to see him on the other side with the softest smile as you open the door.

“Hi…” He takes a long languid look at you, “You made it.”

He nods, glancing back, “I did. And the guys too.” You look behind him to see Hoseok and Jungkook coming out of the car. “You ready?”

“Mhm, Eunji and Hwayoung are gonna be down in a second.” You breathe out, watching the way he smiles when he’s looking at you. You step out of the building right as his friends walk up the steps.

Yoongi turns to them then back to you, “This is Jungkook and there is Hoseok, they’ll be helping your friends move that old couch down…”

You introduce yourself to them, looking up towards the building, “I’m sorry in advance for the trouble. Our elevator is under maintenance for god knows how long…” you scratch the back of your neck.

Hoseok shrugs, nudging Jungkook, “Eh, I’m sure all four of us can figure it out while you guys are out. Do you have anyone helping you guys load the new one?”

Jungkook nods, “Mhm, maybe one of us should come with you?”

“We’ll be fine,” you snap your head to Yoongi, wondering if he’s already planned something, “the people selling the couch will help us out.” 

You frown as you watch him, “Really?”

He glances at you, “I couldn’t help myself, I reached out to confirm some things.”

You reach out to playfully push him. He had been begging you to give him the contact info so he could confirm things but you had insisted everything was fine. Somehow he had managed to find a way to reach out to sellers. He mouths a small ‘sorry’, making you giggle while looking down to your feet. 

The door opens behind you where your friends step out to get introduced to the boys as you look at them, “Oh, Jungkook, Hoseok, Yoongi, these are my friends Eunji and Hwayoung…”

This is the first time your girls are really seeing Yoongi anywhere near you, and you feel their eyes lingering between the both of you during this introduction. You shift closer to him to make more space on the steps, Yoongi grabbing your shoulders to place you in front of him. 

Hoseok makes small talk with your friends as they discuss some more details about moving the old couch down the stairs. You feel Yoongi’s presence behind you shift as he nudges your hand with his, nodding towards the van parked just in front of your home.

“We’ll get going, we have a few hours to kill and you guys need all the time to figure that situation…” Yoongi lazily gestures towards your building. 

Jungkook shakes his head and says, “Pffft, please, we’ll have it done before you guys come back.” 

“I like the confidence.” You say, smiling as Jungkook winks at you, which makes you laugh. Turning to Yoongi you say, “Let’s go.”

You hug your friends really quick as you walk to the van, getting in the passenger seat and waving everyone goodbye as you and Yoongi drive off. 

You’re maybe twenty minutes into the drive when he looks over to you and you do the same. Your eyes meet briefly as he looks back out to the road and you start laughing. You see the frown that’s growing on his face as you giggle, covering your face. 

“You’re pouting.” 

He scoffs, shaking his head, “I’m not.”

“You definitely are.” 

He sighs, biting his lower lip. His fingers tighten around the steering wheel and you smile as you look out the window. 

“Jungkook’s a flirt. You have to watch out for him.” You immediately start to grin, pivoting your head to stare at him like he’s grown a second and third head. Doesn’t he realize it’s him you like?

“Not my type.” You say, meeting his gaze briefly as you giggle. “Plus, I know someone who likes him.”

He stays quiet, saying nothing for a while until you reach in the bag of snacks his mother left the two of you. Clearing his throat, he glances shyly at you, “Who is it?”

“It’s a secret.”

Humming, he smacks his lips, “Jungkook likes your friend Eunji.”

You turn your entire body towards him, restricted by the seatbelt as you huff a laugh at that revelation. Your mouth hangs open, the corners of it tugging into a smile as you begin laughing, “What? Eunji?”

He nods, “The moment he realized we were hanging out, he wanted me to ask you to set him up with her…” he takes one hand off the wheel and rubs the back of his neck. “I told him I wouldn’t do that, that it wasn’t fair to put you in that position…”

“To play cupid?”

He nods, “Mhm.”

“You could’ve…”

He raises an eyebrow at you as you add, “Eunji has had the biggest crush on Jungkook all semester long…” You laugh to yourself. “I even thought about asking you if it was rude to ask you for his number for her but she insisted I didn’t…She didn’t want to make our friendship weird.”

He looks over to you, then down to the kimbap in your hands, “Can I have one?”

“Mhm.” You carefully unwrap part of it to make it easier for him to eat as she smiles. “Here.”

He takes it from you, biting into it eagerly. You’re both quietly eating as he keeps driving. 

“So, without meaning to, we've left them to meet and get to know each other…” 

You smile, “Eunji is so charming they’ll have a date planned by the time we get back, I guarantee you…”

Yoongi snorts, “You think so?”

“I’m willing to bet money.” You sound so confident, amusing him as he nods.

“Okay, I’m a smart enough guy to know that I am definitely losing this one.” He’s laughing while taking another bite. “How long have you all known each other?”

“Mhm?”

“Hwayoung and Eunji.”

“Oh! Well, I met both of them during our first year and they were my first roommates, and I was new to Seoul so they helped me get out of my shell.” You smile, reminiscing over your first year of friendship with your girls. “We decided to stick together and here we are…”

“They’ll kill someone for you I bet.”

“We do have a plan if the need arises.” You’re grinning as he snaps his head to glance at you, shocked. “I’m kidding! Jeez, your face was priceless!”

You both fall into a comfortable silence as you play radio DJ, looking out the window as you hold his phone in your hands. You’re smiling, watching the beautiful sunny day as you cross the bridge to your destination. You feel the device in your hands buzzing a couple of times, not daring to look down and invade his privacy as you lift it towards him.

“I think you’re getting some messages.”

He briefly glances at you, “Can you check that for me? Might be the guys. Password is 0411.”

You bring the phone back to your lap while still staring at him like he’s grown two more heads, “What?”

“Can you please check who texted?” His eyes wrinkle, clearly amused at your shock.

You do as he asks, unlocking his phone to check his messages. When you open the messages app you’re met with a small amount of text conversation, but the most shocking thing to you is that your conversation is pinned right at the top next to his parents and Namjoon. You smile softly as you glance down to spot Hoseok’s message.

“It’s Hoseok.”

“What did he say?” 

You read the message, “Uh, he’s asking if we want to have fried chicken later on after we’re all done?”

He nods, “Yeah, if that’s okay with you?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

He shrugs, “Because I’m assuming we’ll be eating it at yours, and that you might not be ready for me, or us, I mean, to come into your space…” he’s stumbling over his words near the end there, making you smile.

“I’d be mad if you didn’t stay.” You look down to the phone but quickly back to him. “Can I tell him we’d love to buy you food for helping?”

He’s about to protest but you cut him off, “Oppa, I’m gonna be so mad if you even think of saying I don’t have to because I know I don’t, I know we don’t but I, I mean, we’re like that. So, let us buy you guys fried chicken and beer–”

“You don’t drink…”

You laugh, “I’ll get myself some Cola…” you relax against the seat, “Okay? So, after all this, please stay, you and your friends, with us to have some chicken. On us. As a thank you.”

Yoongi looks like he’s considering for a moment but he knows he’s lost this battle, “Text him.”

You start laughing and he sighs loudly, making your belly hurt when you laugh even more, “Okay..”

Yoongi [9:47 AM]: Hoseok, it’s me. Yoongi Oppa is driving, but yes, let’s have fried chicken absolutely. It’s on me and the girls. As a thank you for helping us out! (smiling emoji)

You shut the phone again, smiling to yourself at how flustered you both get around each other. You look at the satellite navigation and realize how close you are, “Oh, we’re almost there.”

“Yeah, we are.”

When you return to your apartment it’s nearly noon and you’re both getting hungry again, but rather than eat, all six of you very carefully bring your new pride and joy up those horrible flights of stairs. You have never sweat so much in your life, panting as you watch Hoseok and Jungkook bring up the last piece. Standing at the bottom of the stairs you crouch and take a moment to breathe.

“You good?” Hwayoung asks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

You’re nodding, looking up, “Yeah, I don’t think I need to work out this week is all.”

She laughs, looking around as if to make sure you’re alone, “So, how did it go with you-know-who?”

You immediately start feeling timid, “It went good. It was nice. He’s a good driver.”

She smacks you over the head, “Yah! You know that’s not what I’m asking!”

“Ouch!” You rub the back of it. “It went fine. The wife thought Yoongi and I were a couple buying the couch, kept…kept calling us cute…”

She starts giggling and kicking her feet, “Oh my god, I wish I was there to see your little face getting all shy!” She reaches over to pinch your cheek as you swat at her. 

“You’re such an ass sometimes.” You tease, shaking your head. You look up again and huff, “He even played into it too. I was so embarrassed, I was sure he would have caught on…”

Hwayoung confidently shakes her head, “Naaaah. I’m sure he doesn’t think he could ever be so lucky to have a girl like you even think of him that way.”

You scoff, “Don’t put me on a pedestal, that’s weird.”

“I’m your best friend, of course I’ll put you on the highest of pedestals…” 

You wearily stand up, every muscle in your body sore from all the moving and lifting, “You’re sweet, I love you.” You walk to hug her, sagging your entire body against hers. 

You hear footsteps behind you, Hwayoung gently tapping your hip to alert you as you remove yourself from her arms. You turn around to face Yoongi who has his hands shoved in his pockets, looking between both of you.

“We’re done upstairs. The guys wanna go get food but we were gonna go back home,” you perk up, concerned, “and we were gonna come back to have that fried chicken…We just all really want showers.” He laughs softly, earning one out of you too. He senses the relief in your body as you shift on your feet. Oh god, he could absolutely tell you were worried he was leaving and not returning. 

“Yeah, yeah, no that makes sense. I mean,” you turn to your friend, “gives us a chance to do the same.” You tuck a loose strand behind your ear. 

And just like that, you all agree to meet a few hours from now.

You can’t quite believe the setting at this moment.

You’re sat on the ground in your living room, leaning against your brand new couch as Jungkook and Hoseok are dancing around the room, laughing and making everybody laugh. Hwayoung and Euni are matching their energy, making the entire evening a hundred times better. 

You glance across the table to Yoongi who is sitting cross-legged, arms crossed over his chest hiding either amusement or embarrassment behind his bangs. He looks so good. He’s dressed extremely casual. A pair of black sweat pants and a black hoodie. Really nothing to write home about but because it’s him? So much to write home about. 

He meets your eyes and smiles at you. 

This entire night you’ve been giving each other little smiles, looking away the moment you caught the other looking. He’s been getting you sodas whenever yours runs out or gets you more chicken when your plate is empty. He’s considerate and pays attention.

But your friends, and new friends, are having so much fun. But you are also getting overwhelmed and overstimulated by it all. Your social battery tends to die down far quicker when you have to think too much about how you are perceived. It’s a day to day worry for you. 

You calmly clean up the empty boxes of fried chicken, making sure there’s at least less of a mess for later but you know they’re all drinking, dancing and singing, and it will most likely last for a few hours. You don’t mind it, you can usually go to your room and your friends just understand when you start cleaning and slip away. 

Which is what happens. 

You don’t mean to, but you’re spent and you are quite honestly overthinking. 

You think nobody notices when you go to your room, leaving the door ajar just so you’re not being completely anti-social, you know?

You go to your en-suite bathroom because yes, you are lucky to have one and you thank your friends all the time that they let you have it. You grab some sweatpants and a sweater, remove your makeup and brush your hair. You take a good look at your own self in the mirror and smile, shaking away the mildly self-deprecating thoughts as you head back out to your room.

You are walking to your bed when you hear the faintest knock amidst the karaoke going on in your living room. 

“Come in…”

The door creaks gently, a tuft of black hair poking through to reveal Yoongi as he meets your eyes. He’s waiting for your permission to let him in, because he would never dare assume he could. You nod, crossing your arms over your chest as he fully steps in and he hesitates to shut the door but does so.

You breathe out in relief, “Loud out there.” You remark. “They’re having fun?”

He nods, facing you but his eyes are dying to explore your bedroom, “Yeah, too much maybe…” he laughs, “You were right by the way. Jungkook said Eunji asked him out on a date.”

You don’t even look surprised, no. You look pleased at your friend’s confidence. 

“I figured…” You watch him, chewing on your lower lip. “You can look around. I’ve got nothing to hide…”

He exhales, taking a few more steps inside to wander as he looks from wall to wall. He doesn’t rush the process. He delicately takes his time looking at every inch of your room, and you stand there watching his back as he learns you. Is he psychoanalyzing me? You don’t think you’d even mind. It seems to be a Yoongi thing to do. He learns people without talking. 

Because sometimes you tell more of a story when you’re not talking. 

You stand still in the middle of your room, over-analyzing every inch of your belongings as you wonder what everything says about you. What can Yoongi see. 

Too many books, for one.

“How many books do you think you have?”

Fuck, seriously?

“Uh,” you’re nodding, and you should know an actual answer to this because you do, “I don’t think I know, too many that’s for sure. Too many for my bookshelves.” You laugh nervously. 

He finally turns to you, standing taller, “You okay? You uh, you left pretty quick…”

The question, you don’t know why, catches you off guard as you nod, “Yeah, my social battery for being around people, new people especially just…depleted…”

He steps towards you a little more, “Should I go?”

“No,” you shut your eyes, because you absolutely said that too quickly, “I mean, no. You can stay.”

You notice the space between the two of you growing smaller and smaller, and soon enough you are almost toe to toe or chest to chest. You make the simple mistake of looking up to him and he’s already staring at you. 

You look from his eyes and briefly glance to his lips before down to your feet, “Have I said thank you for helping?”

His voice is hoarse, it’s strained from…what? “A couple of times…”

“Good, I just wanted to make sure I had, y’know–” you gasp when you feel his hand wrap around yours. 

You look up at him and there is no denying it. He’s looking directly at your lips and there’s no more questioning it. It’s not one sided. 

Min Yoongi most likely feels the same way you do. 

You feel the way his fingers gently ply yours apart, some of them wrapping around yours as you suddenly feel his breath on your cheeks. Oh god, when did he get so, so close?

You watch the way his eyes search yours, again looking for anything to indicate to him that you want this and you can’t help but wonder how long it will take him because you do want this. Terribly so. 

You reach up on your tippy toes, his fingers tightening around your hand and pulling you closer. You finally think this is it, the moment where you get to know what kissing Yoongi is like.

But sometimes you can’t always get what you want. 

“Unnie!!” 

It’s Eunji, and both of you pull apart, facing the door as it opens with Eunji and Jungkook at the door.

“We’re gonna go out for drinks, do you wanna come?”

She must be so drunk to not realize who she’s talking to but it’s Yoongi who speaks, “She doesn’t drink.” 

You’re shocked but you’re more distracted by the hand he was and is still holding behind your back, squeezing your tangled fingers in reassurance, “I’ll stay in, I think…”

Jungkook looks at Yoongi, “You coming?”

You know he has to go, because otherwise there are going to be questions. Questions that neither of you are ready to answer. Because neither of you have actually processed anything. There is so much that happened in so very little time. 

“Yeah, let’s go.” He let’s go of your hand, stepping around you and as he’s about to step out he looks back to you, “Talk later?”

You hum, and nod. And just like that he leaves you. 

And you’re alone in your apartment with all of your thoughts.

6 PM to 11 PM has been pure torture. 

You haven’t slept a wink.

Everyone has been gone for hours and yet you’re still by yourself at the apartment, lying in your bed staring at the ceiling contemplating what’s next. 

Buzzing. Your phone buzzing is what’s next. 

You reach out to it so fast, it falls to the ground and you fear for it until you grab it. Your face freezes but your heart jumps in anticipation at Yoongi’s text on the screen. 

Yoongi [11:12 PM]: You okay?

How do you answer that?

How do you explain that his being that close to you has nearly reduced you to pieces? That you wish you had locked your door. That you could stay in that moment with him. 

Fear rises in your chest, but it also becomes your inspiration. Your courage. 

Being honest with yourself means being honest with him.

You [11:14 PM]: Being honest?

You [11:17 PM]: I thought you were gonna kiss me in my room. 

And you shut your phone, eyes squeezed shut. Shit, shit, shit.

And just as quick as the text is sent? Your phone buzzes with a phone call. 

And the caller ID? Yoongi.

With little hesitation, and anticipation, you answer, “Hi?”

“Hi…” his voice is strained, and he’s breathing heavily.

You both stay silent on the line with only both of your breathings being the only thing heard you settle in that silence. You relish the moment before everything changes. Because as hopeful as you may be? He could very well want something different. 

“I nearly did.” 

Your heart jumps, “What?”

“Kiss you.” Your heart jumps. “I nearly did. I…I still want to.”

A/N: Here it is! They've almost kissed and there is no more denying for them. I hope you enjoy this, things are gonna get moving soon! :D

tag list: @muchwita @kam9404 @ot72025 @lalazilz @janeelizabeth1216 @rinkud @yngisstuff @lolpanda94 @angelicbunnee @wubbz05 @illicitelle @legendarydreamqueen @flyxfall @mintmango-min @moorepls @gojomyoneandonly @yoongiiuu93 @wobblewobble822 @michaela0901 @ariakamil @watchingover-hypegirl @lovesvt17 @misschelliejeon

Post separator credit to @hyuneskkami

[thebestofoneshots]

SERIES MASTERLIST

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Summary: You meet Sirius and Regulus at a family vacation in the Caribbean, but things don't go as planned and you end up losing contact once the trip is over. Years later your family moves to England and you get accepted at Hogwarts where you finally meet Sirius once again, along with all of his friends. One of them with a mysterious secret, that you'll uncover as you embark on your own Hogwarts adventure. Mostly canon-compliant. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Read Gilded Constellations on AO3

Read the French Translation by @nagareboshi-chiyo

Paring: Sirius Black x Reader / Remus Lupin x reader / Wolfstar x reader

Chapter average: 5k - 6.5 k

Content: Smut in later chapters, Poly!Marauders, throuple, graphic descriptions of violence, MAJOR and minor character death (this is The Marauders Era guys, you know), jealousy, angst, pining, love triangle, LGBTQ+ themes, The Wizarding war 1.0, implied child abuse, possible proofreading errors, mental health struggles, hurt no comfort, hurt with comfort, period typical attitude, first war with Voldemort, canonical character's death, fluff, Requited Love, F/M/M, mostly canon-compliant.

Status: Ongoing (Weekly updates)

♡ Indicates SMUT

PLAYLIST

01 | Summer Breeze

02 | Escape

03 | Bitter Sweet Symphony

04 | Rainy Days and Mondays

05 | Good times

06 | Crazy Little Thing Called Love

07 | Peaceful Easy Feeling

08 I Fooled Around and Fell in Love

09 | The Fairy Feller's Master-Stroke

10 | Black Dog

11 | Do Ya

12 | You really got me

13 | Rebel, Rebel

14 | Maybe I’m Amazed

15 | No One Like You

Interlude (Q&A Event)

16 | Boogie Wonderland

17 | Tonight’s What It Means To Be Young

18 | Friends will be Friends

19 | Silver Bird

20 | Bad Moon Rising

21 | Fox on the Run

22 | Long Long Way From Home

23 | Hungry Eyes

24 | Peace of Mind

25 | I’ll get Even With You

26 | Hooked on a Feeling

27 | Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

28 | If You Want BIood, (You’ve Got It)

29 | With a Little Help From My Friends

30 | Bridge Over Troubled Water

31 | Strange Magic

32 | Come a Little Bit Closer

33 | More Than a Feeling

34 | You Belong to Me

35 | Chill of Desire

36 | Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy

37 | Gimme, Gimme, Gimme

38 | Let the Good Times Roll

39 | Running With the Pack

40 | Hot Stuff

41 | Urban Adventure

42 | Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

43 | Sympathy for the Devil

44 | No One But You

45 | Hold The Line

46 | Comfortably Numb

47 | Let Me Take You Home Tonight

48 | Dust in the Wind

49 | High Hopes

50 | Love the One You're With ♡

51 | Some Guys Have All The Luck ♡

52 | Twentieth Century Fox

53 | Too Much Love Will KiII You

54 | Sail Away Sweet Sister

55 | Noone Together

56 | Who Wants To Live Forever

57 | Play the Game

58 | Staying Power

59 | Break on Through

60 | Stone in Love

61 | Mr. Blue Sky

62 | Born to be Wild

63 | Something About You

64 | Put Out The Fire

65 | Spell Binder

66 | Hot Love

67 | What's On My Mind

68 | Mysteries and Mayhem

69 | Livin' Thing

70 | Back Talk

71 | We've Only Just Begun

72 | Relentless 

73 | Lovin’, Touchin’, Squeezin’

74 |

75 |

.

.

.

BONUS TRACKS:

Your Theories, The Note, The Costumes, Sirius and the Chimney, Sirius and Vix after the bad moon, Evans and Vixen, Remus and Vixen at the infirmary, Remus holding Sirius at DADA, Remus and Sirius’ height difference, the FOXSTAR picture, Art by @nineloseteeth, We're going French,

Leave a comment telling me if you want to join the tag list

A/N: Most Poly!Marauders fics are oneshots, where the relationship between characters is already established, and they're all happy and pleased with it. No issues, no drama, but I WANTED the drama. Couldn't find it, so I set myself up to write the story behind the stablished relationship. I wanted to know how they started dating each other, the jealousy, the will they won't they, because getting into a poly relationship can't be an easy task, and I wanted to explore that story. If you're interested: Welcome to Gilded Constellations!

[nolita-fairytale]

something will happen | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter one

summary: you and luca embark on another a big new adventure together: one of second dreams and second chances. the long-awaited sequel to 'burn your life down.' titled inspired by something will happen - berlioz.

warnings: fluff, light angst, grief, death, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, off-canon connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: it's really happening! i can't promise i'll be updating frequently, but season 3 got me inspired and i've really missed this world. this feels more like an intro than a chapter but here we are anyway. all italicized scenes are a part of the same conversation. i just wanted to play with something new so i hope it makes sense. lmk if you'd like to be tagged.

masterlist | chapter two

Late Spring

“Well? What do you think?” Luca asks you, the anticipation in the silence between the two of you palpable. 

“I don’t know!” you practically exclaim, all giddy at the mere idea of it. You chew on your lower lip as you wait for him to say something next. 

“I’m just saying. It’s not a half-bad idea and ehm… well, I’ve been thinking about it. A lot, actually,” he reasons with a shrug. He sends a loving glance your way because you look so damn cute wrapped in your twin-sized duvet that makes up one half of the bed you share. 

“For how long?” you ask, cautiously. 

“Dunno,” Luca shrugs. “Ever since Marcus mentioned it, I suppose.” 

He’s almost too casual about this—as if he hasn’t been stuck on the idea for the last month or so since his friend had returned to the States.

This is most certainly not a lazy Saturday morning with breakfast in bed kind of conversation. 

This is a paperwork and really nice pens kind of conversation

A big step.

Huge, even. 

You’ve already agreed to live with the man. 

And now this?

“Luca…” you struggle to get out on an exhale. “I just. It’s not that I don’t want to. I just-.” You pause, collecting your thoughts as you shake off all your nerves before choosing to pivot.

“What if we just-.” you begin again, taking a breath as you brace yourself to jump over this specific cliff. “Total fantasy. No limitations, no logistics, then sure. Okay. We could talk about it.” 

“Alright,” Luca accepts with a nod, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes like he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. He sits up straight, pushing himself off of where he leans against the headboard, shifting so that he’s closer to you. The smile that spreads across his lips begins to grow as repeats your words back to you. “Then, my love, total fantasy. No limitations. No logistics. What’s the dream?” 

—---------------------------------------

Summer

The dream was only supposed to be this—one where you’d begin living with your very sexy and very sweet pastry chef of a boyfriend—and yet, months later, as you move your things into Luca’s Vesterbro flat, your thoughts are consumed by ‘what ifs.’ 

What if you did it? 

What if you opened the restaurant of your shared dreams? 

What if your dreams came true with the love of your life by your side? 

Opening Kokuore had been different. It was your first step towards your next chapter, one where you had moved to Copenhagen in search of a new beginning. But this would be… a proclamation: that you were here to stay, that you and Luca could be something permanent, that you could be more than just romantic partners. 

Proof of a life well-lived and a life well-loved. 

Kokuore had been your dream, your first, your baby. Sure, there’d been talk of expansion—maybe a bigger space, or something along the lines of that—but you hadn’t thought too deeply about a second. 

You hadn’t thought about what would come next. 

And then he did. 

Luca. 

“Need any help, love?” Luca offers, watching you scoop two stacked boxes up into your arms, ready to be hauled into the bedroom. 

“Nope!” you heave with a sigh. “Not with these. But if you could grab the other three I’ll meet you in the closet, babe.”

He smirks, calling after you with a: 

“And what do you suppose we should do there?” 

You chuckle in response, your voice sounding further away as you shout back, “Let’s just unpack a few of my clothes, love, before we start taking them off.” 

—---------------------------------------

“Then, my love, total fantasy. No limitations. No logistics. What’s the dream?” 

You sigh, like you too haven’t been thinking about it since Marcus brought it up in the first place. 

“Okay, I’m not ready yet,” you preface, cautiously. “But. If we were, hypothetically speaking, talking about opening a restaurant together… I kinda love the idea of a brunch spot.” “Like Marcus said.” “Exactly.” 

“Slash bakery.” “Right.” 

“Hypothetically speaking.” “Of course.” 

For a moment, your mind gets away from you, running wild with the fantasy that’s beginning to unfold before your eyes.

“I think I really like the idea of it being a bakery during the weekdays when we’re open,” you admit, an excitement beginning to bubble underneath the surface of all your reasons why you shouldn’t. “Maybe we do Wednesday, Thursday all grab-and-go sort of breakfast stuff in addition to the bakery.”

“Kind of like a NY-style bodega,” Luca adds, building on your idea. “You know. With a little extra finesse.”

“Yes! Then… Friday, maybe, we pivot to full breakfast/brunch till the end of Saturday,” you reply, building off what Luca’s just said. 

“Think Wednesday – Saturday service would work?” he asks curiously, knowing that most places are closed on Sundays in Copenhagen.

“We could try it out. Extend our hours to Sunday down the line IF it feels right,” you reason with enough ease to worry you a little. You begin to back pedal, your mind flooded with doubt. “But-, I don’t know, honey. Don’t you think Copenhagen has enough bakeries?” 

“Not ours! Copenhagen doesn’t have ours yet,” Luca protests, as soon he begins to recognize what’s going on in your head. His excitement and passion alone might convince you to do this as he sits up on his knees, his body language expressing just how fully IN he is on this idea. 

His face changes—he’s only just a little more serious this time—his tone light and voice gentle as he warns you with a: 

“And I’m not letting you talk to yourself out of this.” He crosses his arms over his chest almost as if it’s a challenge. “So tell me more about this bakery-slash-brunch spot you’ve got in mind.” 

“Luca Davies! I don’t know where you get off thinking you can sweet talk me into this,” you scold him teasingly. 

He’s even faster to reply. 

“Oh I think I can.”

And this time, you know it’s a challenge. 

“Fine,” you concede to him, meeting him right in the middle of his challenge. “But I don’t want this to be all about my ideas. Besides, aren’t you the one who’s been thinking about it for months now?” 

—---------------------------------------

Fall

Over fresh ink that’s barely had a chance to dry, you and Mathilde clink glasses in celebration of the very big step you’ve just taken together. The contract had barely been drawn up before she charged into now-your Vesterbro home, opened a bottle of Veuve Clicquot, ready to sign on the dotted line.

A promotion, chef du cuisine, and a bigger percentage in ownership of Kokuore—a piece of your heart—now shared between the woman who helped you create your masterpiece. 

“I can’t believe we’re really fucking doing this!” Mathilde practically squeals, bursting at the seams with excitement as she rests her arms against your kitchen island. The two of you sit side by side on twin bar stools, facing each other to the best of the chair’s swivel-ability. 

“I know. It’s unreal and yet it feels like the right thing, yeah?” you agree, half in shock. Shifting gears, your back to business as you continue with an explanation of the ownership plan that you’ve thought long and hard about. “It’s important to me to stay involved, but most of my focus will go towards the new space for at least the next year. We’ll have weekly check-ins and Mathilde, I want you to at least consider some kind of ownership eventually in the hospitality group should we go in that direction.”

“I forgot you went to business school. It’s very sexy,” she teases, but the prospect of a hospitality group feels even more exciting.  

There’s a feeling of familiarity between you and your friend as you begin to break down some of the nitty gritty details of the contract. With Luca out for a jog, it reminds you of the days when it was just you, her, and Jesper, exploring your shared wildest dreams. The nostalgia wells in your chest as you take another sip from your champagne flute. 

You were really doing this and you’re so lucky you get to do it with your favorite people. 

Well, with your favorite people again. 

Who would’ve thought that moving to Copenhagen would bring you this grand of an adventure?

—---------------------------------------

“Fine,” Luca agrees, knowing that the way he looks at you only stokes the flames you feel for him. He’s got plenty of ideas, spent maybe too much time thinking about breakfast menus and laminated pastry doughs folded with all kinds of experimental ingredients. He hasn’t felt this creative in… well… since he met you. 

“I love the idea of breakfast/brunch. And I’m already feeling really inspired by the prospect of getting to create a menu with you, darling,” Luca begins, ready to build off of your previous idea. “I guess my first question is… who will lead it?” 

He’s not expecting the elated, “You, silly!” that escapes your lips without hesitation. 

It’s not that he has doubts about himself, but you are the one with the business degree. You’re also the one that’s opened a restaurant before, so he'd be more than happy to let you take reins. 

“Not that I’m going to totally love being on opposite schedules but…” you continue, this hypothetical conversation feeling less and less hypothetical. “...maybe I turn Kokuore over to Mathilde… spend a little more time developing this next concept with you. But. Without question, my love, I think you should lead it.” 

It’s his turn to be surprised, your unwavering belief in him felt so deeply it practically takes his breath away. The only response he can get out is: 

“I love you.” 

“I love you,” you giggle in response. 

“I guess my question for you,” you shift cautiously, as it begins to dawn on you that this is something you just might want as much as he does. “...is… is this something you want to do? I mean, I know it’s going to be a really big pivot from fine dining and-.” 

“God yes!” Luca exclaims, relieved at the thought. “I’ve been dying to get away from the fine dining stuff. I-. It’ll be an adjustment, sure. But yes. Yes, it’s what I want.” 

You nod as you process, listening to the conviction in your lover’s voice. 

He wants this. He really wants this.

And he’s so sure. 

You let out a sigh of relief as you realize you don’t have to have to suppress the feeling any longer.

“Fuck it!” you declare, as if you’re inhaling for the first time. “Fuck ‘hypothetical.’ We should totally do this, babe.” 

“Yeah?” “Abso-fucking-lutely.” 

A beat. 

“So…” Luca trails off, the wave of excitement beginning to wash over him. 

“What do we call it?” 

The baritone in his voice catches your attention, and as you look at him, you can practically see it all. In Luca you’ve found your second chapter, your second great love, and now your second restaurant. The word falls out of your mouth as if it were destiny: 

“Seconds. I think… we should call it Seconds.” 

“I love it,” he grins back at you.

And now, you’re just as certain about a second restaurant, because you get to do it with him. Luca chuckles, catching your gaze once more, almost as if he’s about to say ‘I told you so,’ as he utters a cheeky: 

“Well, love. Looks like we gotta call Marcus and let him know he’s about to own 10% of a restaurant.”

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 30, Epilogue - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,

Word Count: 634

Previously On...: You and Bucky are probably going to be okay.

A/N: IT'S OUT EARLY!

This is it! The last chapter! OMG!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

10 Months Later

“I refuse to accept this.”

“Well, unfortunately, Boss, it’s my decision to make, not yours,” you told Tony as you finished stacking up the last of your moving boxes. Sixteen years– almost half of your life, now condensed into neat stacks of cardboard, waiting to be loaded into the van that was waiting downstairs.

“What the hell am I supposed to do without you?” Tony asked, dramatically flinging himself on your now bare mattress. “How am I supposed to survive?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “It’s not like you won’t see me every fucking day, dude,” you admonished him. “I still work here, for fucks’ sake. Besides, you refused to let your realtor show me any place you couldn’t see from your terrace.”

“I thought it would be nice if we could wave to each other during breakfast,” he said, his face drawn into a pout now, “that’s all.”

You sat down next to him and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It’s time to cut the umbilical cord, Tony,” you said. 

“But you’re still such a kiddo, Kiddo,” he sighed.

“I meant your umbilical cord, Boss,” you laughed. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll try it for a year or two, figure out I absolutely hate it, and come crawling back, begging for my old room.”

“Don’t press your luck,” Tony said, sitting back up. “I’ll probably turn it into a sauna, or an indoor golf simulator as soon as you walk out that door.”

“Ah, there’s the Tony I know and tolerate,” you said with a smile.

“I’m just going to miss having you around,” he said, his voice now laced with sadness. “Sixteen years together– probably the longest stable relationship I’ve ever had. It’s not going to be the same around here without you.”

“I know,” you sighed. “I’m going to miss you, too. But you know I need this. After everything that happened last year with Carthage, and Barnes… me spiraling, losing a baby I didn’t even know about, getting shot, and the… complications; all that shit with Steve. I just think I need a fresh start, some place where I’m not reminded of her every time I walk around a corner. It’s the only way I’m going to truly heal.”

“I told you I’d move you to another floor. Hell, I’ll tear down the entire Tower and start from scratch. We can build a whole new compound Upstate or something. You’d never have to set foot in this hallway again,” he said. And you knew he was telling the truth– there was little Tony wouldn’t do to ensure you were comfortable in your old home, but you couldn’t rely on him forever.

“You’ve saved me so many times already, Boss,” you said, looking back at him fondly, “and you know I’m always going to be thankful for that. But it’s time I started working on saving myself.”

“Well, when you make it sound all empowering and shit,” he began, “I start to feel like a dick for protesting.”

You laughed as your phone beeped. Looking at the message, you told him: “Movers are on the way up. I guess this is really it.” You both stood and embraced, Tony leaning down to speak softly in your ear.

“You know you always have a home here, Kiddo,” he said. “Whenever you need it. Even if it’s just for a night, or if you decide you want to come back for good. Door’s always open.”

“And even if it’s not,” you said as the two of you broke away from one another, “I can always hack the system to break myself in.”

“I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”

“You think Mr. Mitchell’s still practicing law?” you asked with a grin. “I can definitely afford to have him represent me, now.”

<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Not Deat Yet | Part 04

-> Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x Medium-Fem!Reader

-> Synopsis: After a strange encounter, Jeonghan wakes up outside of his body. The only person who can see him is Y/N, a woman with a gift (or curse as she would call it) who is able to see and communicate with the deceased. But Jeonghan isn't dead... not yet anyway.

-> Warnings: Paranormal au. This is a work of fiction and in no way does it represent the guys or their families. Jeonghan's birthday part is a little cheesy. This whole part may be a little cheesy.

-> Word Count: 2,887

-> Taglist: Open until series is completed. Leave a comment on the masterlist post, send an ask or fill out the Tag List Form.

Not Dead Yet Masterlist | Jeonghan Masterlist | SVT Masterlist

“So, you want to tell me about what just happened?” he asks as they get into the car and he starts driving. 

“Can you drop me off at the hospital?” she asks, pulling her phone out of her pocket. She goes into social media and starts searching for Yoon Jeonghan, her heart pounding with each passing second. 

Jihoon raises an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by her request. “The hospital? What’s going on?” he questions her. “Is this a ghost thing?” 

“I think so,” she says as she scrolls through her feed, finding anything she can on Jeonghan. "Why of all surnames did he have to say Yoon?" she mumbles to herself and quickly finds what she's looking for. Her heart sinks as she reads the latest updates from his family, informing those he’s closest to that the doctors have found nothing and that there’s no explanation for why he should be in a coma. Looking at his profile, something catches her eye. It’s a date. His date of birth. “It’s his birthday tomorrow,” she says, sympathy for the man filling her body again. 

“Who’s birthday?” Jihoon asks, reminding her that he’s still in the car with her.  

“Yoon Jeonghan,” she tells him. 

“Who’s Yoon Jeonghan?” Jihoon says, quickly glancing at her and then back at the road. He was use to her erratic behaviour when it comes to the ghosts but something tells him this time is different. “And why does he have you all flustered like this?” When she doesn’t answer him, he does a double take as their earlier conversation comes back to him. “Omo, have you actually fallen in love with a ghost?”  

This gets her attention. She looks up from her phone, glaring at him, slightly offended by his accusation. “We’ve already had this conversation. Jeonghan’s a new ghost but I don’t actually think he’s a ghost,” she tells him, only causing Jihoon confusion. “It’s complicated. I’ll try and explain it later,” she continues as she turns her attention back to her phone. This time she pulls up a contact in her list and quickly sends them a message asking if he’s free tomorrow. He quickly replies letting her know he has time free in the early evening. Putting her phone to sleep, she looks up spotting a connivence store. “You can drop me here,” she tells Jihoon, who pulls to the side of the road.  

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice filled with concern.  

She nods, reaching for the door handle. “I’ll be fine.” 

“Call me if you need me to come get you,” he tells her as she leaves the car. He winds down the window as she closes the door.  

“You know I will,” she says leaning back into the car. “I haven’t said it yet, but thank you for tonight. I really don’t know what I would do without you Jihoonie,” she says, smiling at him truly grateful for his friendship. 

“Crash and burn, that’s what you’d do without me,” he smiles back at her, his concern never leaving his eyes.  

“Drive safe, okay?” she tells him. “The roads are still wet from the rain and I can’t have you becoming a ghost and making me fall in love with you just to prove your theory right.”  

“You already love me so I don’t think that’ll work,” he teases her. “Now get out of here, I have a bed I need to get back to.” 

“Okay, bossy,” she chuckles. “Wooahae,” she says curving her hand in half a heart shape against her cheek and steps back from the car. He returns her gesture before he drives off to go back home. 

As she stands on the footpath she looks up and down the street to find it surprisingly empty. Not letting it bother her, it not being the strangest thing she’s seen all day, she walks inside the store only to walk out a few minutes later with three things in her bag. She then makes her way to the hospital, not worried that visiting hours ended hours ago. Instead, her mind drifts back to everything that’s happened since she stopped ignoring Jeonghan’s presence. “Aish, I should have kept pretending I didn’t see him.” 

It doesn’t take her long to get to the hospital and as soon as she arrives, she’s confronted by the elderly woman from earlier in the day. With less people around, she’s more at ease with interacting with the ghost but still vigilant in case anyone does see her.  

“Give me an hour and then we can talk,” she tells the woman before she can say anything, “Meet me over by that tree,” she points towards a tree just outside, “I promise I’ll listen to whatever it is you have to say.” 

The old woman nods, appearing pleased at the prospect of finally being heard, before vanishing.  

With her mind now focused, Y/N continued her search for Jeonghan. She started at the intensive care unit, her heart racing as she approaches the glass doors and looks inside. To her dismay, his spot was vacant, the bed neatly made and devoid of any signs that he was there. She steps back, her mind racing with possibilities. Had something happened? Has he been moved? 

Taking a moment to collect herself, Y/N turns on her heel and heads toward the nurse’s station, her footsteps echoing in the hallway. As she approaches the nurse's station she finds Sara, a nurse that she’s become good friends with, organizing charts, her brow furrowed in concentration.  

“Eonni,” Y/N says, her voice trembling slightly as she gets the slightly older woman’s attention.  

“What are you doing here?” Sara asks her, not all to surprise to see her at the hospital past visiting hours. She often comes at night, so much so that the night staff don’t question it. Even the higher ups know her well enough to let it slide. She doesn’t cause any trouble, sitting with those that are alone and have no one to be with them in their final moments. 

“I’m looking for Yoon Jeonghan. He was in the ICU, but his bed is empty. Is he okay?” she asks. 

“Yoon Jeonghan? He was moved to a more private room a few floors up,” Sara informs her. “Is he a friend of yours?”  

“You could say that,” she nods. “What room is he in?” 

“I want to help you, Y/N, but I’m unsure if I can do anything,” she says looking at her sadly. “We have a new member on the board and he’s quite strict. I don’t want to get into trouble. You’ll have to come back during visiting hours.”  

“It’s just, it’s his birthday tomorrow and between everything I have going on, I won’t be able to see him,” she explains, trying to tug at the nurse's heart strings all while thinking that she’s getting too good at this manipulation tactic. Her voice trembles slightly as she continues, “I just want to be there for him, even if it’s just for a moment. He means so much to me.”  

“I understand,” Sara replies gently, her tone shifting to one of empathy. “But-” 

“Wow, you’re really good at that,” Jeonghan interrupts, making Y/N almost jump out of her skin.  

“Jesus Christ!” she shouts, scaring Sara. "I'm sorry, I just saw a spider. Hate those things," she pretends to shudder. "And you're right, I should come back tomorrow. You make time for those you care about, right?" she rambles as she heads towards the door. "Right, well, maybe I'll see you tomorrow," she finishes as she ducks back through the doors to the floor. She turns to face Jeonghan who followed her into the empty corridor. "What the hell was that?" 

Jeonghan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a bemused smile playing on his lips and his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You were laying it on pretty thick back there, weren’t you?” he teases. “You really had that nurse eating out of the palm of your hand. I’m pretty sure she would’ve eventually caved in.” 

“How can someone look like an angel and be a complete menace at the same time?” she groans in frustration.  

“Follow me,” he says, taking the insult as a compliment. It wasn’t the first time he’s heard someone describe him in that way and it certainly won’t be the last. 

“You really need to stop telling me what to do,” she shot back, but she follows behind him, careful not to be noticed. “I could easily go back to ignoring you. Today was going well until you caught me off guard.”  

“Then why are you here?” he asked, turning to face her with a curious look.  

“I honestly don’t know,” she admitted. “I guess I’m just… intrigued by your whole situation. I’ve never seen coma patients in limbo before. I don’t encounter the dead until they’re actually, ya know, dead,” she explained, omitting the strange coincidences that had followed her since their encounter this afternoon — the mysterious man at the bus stop, the concept of best friend's new song, and her brother mentioning Yoon as a surname for his fake girlfriend being at the top of the list. 

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, his playful making its way on to his handsome face. He slants his head, his long dark hair falling slightly over his face, somehow giving him an even more angelic look as his deep brown eyes gaze into hers with an intensity she couldn't quite explain. “So, I’m like a puzzle and you're trying to put all the pieces together but you're missing a few so you need to find them?”  

It took her a moment to process his words, finding herself lost in his captivating eyes. "I... I..." she stammers finding her words. "I wouldn't call you a puzzle but more of mystery that, despite knowing that I probably shouldn't, makes me want to look further into it." 

“When you find those missing pieces, let me know because I know about as much as you do,” he tells her and turns to face the door they’re standing in front of. “I’m in there,” he says. Looking at her again, he sees she’s looking apprehensive. “You don’t have to worry about being caught.” 

“You’re alone?” she asks as she opens the door and enters his room.  

He follows behind her. “It’s just the nurses and doctors when they make their rounds,” he tells her. “It’s complicated with my family,” he says when she goes to ask about his family. 

“So, you’ll be alone tomorrow,” she says feeling a ping of sadness as she approaches the bed his body is laying in, looking like a sleeping angel. “On your birthday.” 

“It’s actually today,” He smirks as he moves to stand on the other side of the bed and points to the clock on the wall.  

She looks at the clock and sees its after midnight.  

“How do you know it’s my birthday? Did you look up my socials?” he questions, teasing her. “You must have been thinking about me.”  

“You know what? Just forget I was here,” she says with a frown, turning to exit his room.  

“Wait, I’m sorry,” he quickly says, stepping in front of her to block her path, even though she could easily walk right past him.  

She stops and looks up at him, her resolve wavering as she meets his gaze. “I didn’t just come because I’m curious. I also came because I got the feeling you’d be alone. No one living, dead or in a coma should spend their birthday alone.” 

He studies her for a moment, the playful spark in his eyes softening into something more serious, more contemplative. “You seem to be going to a lot of effort for a ghost you don’t even know,” he replies, a hint of admiration creeping into his tone. 

“You’d be surprised at the lengths I’ll go for a ghost I don’t know,” she replies, setting the bag she’s carrying down on the table. Opening the bag, she pulls out the three objects she bought at the store – A cupcake, a pack of candles and a lighter. “This is mild compared to what I’ve done,” she says opening the pack of candles and the container the cupcake is in. She places a candle in the cupcake and lights it before turning to face him, offering the cupcake to him. 

"You didn't have to do this," he says looking from her to the cupcake and to her again. "It's not like I can blow out a candle, let alone eat the cupcake." 

"It's the thought, right?" she asks. He nods causing her to smile. "Make a wish and I'll blow it out for you." 

"I wish I was back in my body," he says aloud, his voice taking on a more sarcastic tone and looks at her expectantly.  

"You're not-," she stops herself and says, "Never mind." She blows out the candle on the cupcake before removing it. “I know someone who might be able to give us some answers about what’s going on,” she informs him, placing the cupcake back in its box.  

“Why didn’t you mention that sooner?” he replies. 

“I wasn’t sure if I was going to tell you until after I talk to him,” she admits. “I don’t want to get your hopes up in case he doesn’t know anything.” 

“What is he? Some spiritual guru?” Is he in contact with the Gods?” he questions her, a little too sarcastically for her liking. 

“I don’t know about the God thing but he’s like a spiritual advisor of some sort,” she says walking over to the chair beside the bed and takes a seat. “His eomma helped me out when I developed my gift. He’s been trained in this stuff since birth,” she continues leaning back in the chair. “He knows things that could possibly help you.” 

He studies her for a moment as he processes her words. “And you trust him?” 

“He’s got me this far,” she nods. “I just need you to tell me everything that happened so I can relay it back to him.” 

“I already told you what happened,” he sighs looking out the window, the lights from the buildings below illuminating the night sky. “Some weird guy snapped his fingers and I woke up like this.” 

“What did the weird guy look like?” she asks, standing up from the chair again. She walks back over to the table where her stuff is and pulls out a small notepad and I pencil.  

“You really carry a notepad around with you?” he asks catching her reflection in the window. 

“It comes in handy when talking to ghosts,” she replies flipping to an empty page. “Now, the weird guy. What do you remember about him?” 

“He has sharp features, kinda like a cat,” he says as he begins to describe the man.  

Y/N writes down all the words he uses to describe the man, her pen scratching against the paper, but she stops when he mentions the man’s attire. “A top hat?” she interjects, wanting to make sure she heard him correctly.  

“A top hat,” he confirms with a nod, his expression serious. He then turns to her, his eyes searching hers. “I’m not sure why I’m describing him. I could have just said you’ve seen him too.”  

“I have?” she asks, puzzled, her mind racing as she tries to remember if she had encountered anyone like he described. The details swirl in her mind, but nothing seems to fit. Suddenly, it clicks, and her eyes widen in realization. “The man at the bus stop?”  

“The one who gave you the umbrella,” he replies, affirming that it’s the same person.  

“Okay did he say anything to you?” she asks, remembering what the man had said to her, about how she should be worried for him. 

“Just that he’s been watching me and was there to give me a warning,” he says recalling what had been said. “I told him I had plans and he said the only plans I have are with the Gods.”  

“You must have really pissed them off,” she remarks, her voice barely above a whisper. The thought slips out before she can catch it, and she doesn’t it until Jeonghan growls loudly.  

“I haven’t done anything!” he protests, his eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and frustration. “I don’t know what I could have done for this to be happening.” Frustrated he turns to look back out the window. “He also said the only person who can see me will know his name.” 

“I’m sorry,” she apologises, the guilt from earlier coming back. “I wish I knew his name.” 

He sighs, “Maybe your friend will.” 

“I hope so,” she agrees, placing the notebook back in her bag. She looks at the clock on the wall, seeing that it’s almost been an hour.  

“Is that lady waiting for you?” he suddenly asks, staring down at the entrance area of the hospital.  

“I’ll be back sometime tomorrow,” she assures him as she gathers her things, leaving the cupcake on the table. She glances back at him, wanting to offer some comfort, but the words elude her. With that, she exits the room, the atmosphere around her feeling heavier with more unanswered questions. 

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead

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[iheartyouyou]

SWEETHEART | Jeremiah Fisher

Summary: After your parents file for a divorce, you’re forced to move in with your mom’s friend until the divorce is finalized. You wished you could stay with your dad and your friends, but when you meet Jeremiah Fisher, that changes. And now you’re wanting to stay in the Cousins. Too bad things don’t last forever.

Word Count:

Part: 6

previous part series masterlist next part

Authors Note: I’m like actually so sorry for not updating. I’ve just been really unmotivated but since season 2 is out I’ve gotten more motivation and energy to continue the series! Not proofread (like always) but please let me know if you want to be on the taglist or if I missed you! (it wouldn’t let me tag some ppl for some odd reason.)

“Y/N, wake up!” You hear someone whisper.

You mumble something you don’t even remember, shoving your face deeper into a pillow. You think whoever was trying to wake you left, and so just as you were about to fall back asleep a pillow hit your back.

You look up to see Jeremiah with a pillow in his hand… and he was shirtless. You lazily stared at his abs before he smacked your face with pillow.

Fuck, did he notice?

“C’mon! It’s Belly’s birthday, we gotta go get up before her.” He says.

“Wha—“ You start, cut off with another pillow to face. You reach your arm out to snatch the pillow away, but he pulls it out of your reach.

“What time is it?” You ask, rubbing your eyes.

“8:00”

“What the hell—“

“It’s Belly’s birthday, we gotta decorate the kitchen before she wakes up.” He explains, throwing the pillow back onto your bed.

It was her birthday? Shoot, why didn’t anybody tell you? You would’ve gotten her a gift, you know you just met her and all but still.

“I’ll be down in a bit.” You mumble, shoving your face back into your pillow.

Maybe you could get her a gift later? What does she even like?

“Okay, make sure to brush your teeth… I can smell your breath all the way from over here.” He exaggerates, jokingly grimacing as he plugs his nose.

“Shut up!”

And before you knew it, you were back asleep. You were exhausted from the night before. After Belly joined in on your guys’ movie marathon, she shortly fell asleep and whenever you would close your eyes for longer than 5 seconds, Jeremiah would be the one to poke you, waking you up. It wasn’t until after the movies were over, Jeremiah woke Belly up and the two didn’t even have a chance to leave before you were passed out.

You rubbed your eyes hastily, jumping out of bed after you heard the multiple “heys” coming from downstairs.

Grabbing the first shirt and shorts you saw, you sped walk downstairs, following the voices.

“….Conrad, uh, do you wanna give Belly your present?” You hear Susannah ask.

It’s quiet for a few moments, before Conrad responds, “Sorry… I forgot.”

Nobody noticed you yet as you watch the side of Belly’s face fall, a small frown on her lips.

An awkward pause of silence washes over before Belly quickly recovers, “Oh. That’s cool— I wasn’t really expecting anything anyways.”

Another awkward pause happens until your mom spots you. “Ah, there’s Y/N!”

You watch as all eyes fall on you, your mom getting up from her spot on the couch and making her way to you. She pulls out a small box from her front pocket, giving it to you. She mouths the words; “We’ll talk later”

You give her a tight lipped smile, before she makes her way back to her spot. You follow quickly, giving the box to Belly as you say “Happy Birthday.”

Belly sends you an appreciative smile, “Aw, Y/N. You really didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Pfttt, of course I did.” You say, watching as she opened the box. It was a pair of earrings along with a necklace. Her smile widens, “Thank you!”

Conrad makes an excuse, before exiting the room as Belly smiles once falls again.

“Hey, why don’t we practice driving before we have to go pick up Taylor from the bus station?” You hear Jeremiah say.

Who the hell is Taylor?

-

“I can’t believe you would sleep in like that!” Your mom lectures you after pretty much everybody left the house. Jeremiah invited you to go witness “Belly’s terrible driving skills” but you mom quickly shot him down.

“I didn’t know—“ You start, uncomfortably sitting at the edge of her bed.

“Really? Because didn’t Jeremiah wake you up?”

“Well, yeah—“

“Jesus, Y/N. Why are you acting like this? I didn’t raise you—

“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe because you’re forcing me to stay here when I can stay with Dad!” You interrupt.

Before your mom could even get a chance to go off at you, a knock on the door stops her. She exhales before opening the door.

Susannah stands there with a smile on her face, “Hey, I was wondering if I can take Y/N out for shopping? I need to get some stuff for tonights dinner, It would be a great time to get to know her better.”

Your mom stays quiet for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

You follow Susannah outside to her car, silent as you sat in the front seat. You put your seatbelt on before you realize that Susannah wasn’t making any move to put hers on.

“Y/N, look, I know how it must feel to be staying at some random strangers house. But, I’ve known your mom for a while. And she has her reasons, okay?” She tries to explain, staring at you with a look of empathy on her face.

You bite your tongue, trying to stop yourself from saying anything rude. You appreciated Susannah letting you stay here, she was nice, had amazing sons, well one of them at least, and she was an overall sweet person. It was just… you missed home. You missed your friends, you missed your dad, and it feels weird being here. You feel out of place, like an intruder. Everybody knows everybody but you.

“I just wanna go home.” You mumble, leaning your head against the car door.

She stays silent for a moment. “… Okay, how bout we make a deal?”

This perks your interest as you lift your head to look at her.

“If you still wanna go home by the end of this week, I’ll talk to your mom and see about flying you home.”

Your eyes widen, “Wait really? You’d do that?”

“Yes, but only if your mom is on board. Just try to stay on your mom’s good side until then?” She suggests, sending you a wink causing you to laugh.

“Okay, okay, deal.” You say, trying your hardest not to smile from ear to ear.

She starts the car, “I actually need stuff for Belly’s birthday dinner tonight but we can stop for some pies and eat them in the car. Just don’t tell anybody.”

-

By the time you’re back at the house, you notice Jeremiah’s red jeep back in the driveway. You felt fat and full after splitting a pecan pie with Susannah and just wanted to sleep it off.

You helped get the groceries out of the car, setting them inside on the counter. Your mom was nowhere to be found, thank god so you didn’t have to continue the lecture from earlier… at least for now.

As you were about to grab the last bag, you spot Conrad and his girlfriend, whatever her name is, walking to the backyard.

Oh god were they about to make out in the pool or what? Why’d he even bring her? It’s Belly’s birthday and he just brought his girlfriend over like they weren’t arguing a few days ago? Pathetic.

“Do you need help with putting these away?” You offer Susannah once your back inside, she shoos you away, claiming you should go hang out with the rest of the kids.

You shoot her a appreciative smile, your arms sore from carrying all those bags as you went from store to store.

Opening the sliding door, the first people you notice are Conrad and his girlfriend sitting on the edge, and the next thing is a net with a volleyball flying over it.

“Hey, Y/N! You’re back!” You hear Belly shout, Conrad and his girlfriend both turn to look at you but you ignore them as you make your way closer to the pool.

“Hey.” You say. You finally notice the new face next to her, a dirty blonde in a teal bikini. And you definitely don't miss the dirty look she sends you.

She waits a few moments, hoping her friend in the bikini would introduce herself but she doesn’t make any effort, still looking at you like you were gum on the bottom of her shoe.

Belly nervously laughs, “Y/N, this is my best friend Taylor. Taylor, this is Y/N. You know the one I was telling you about on the phone?”

“Oh yeah.” Taylor says, forcing a smile your way.

What the hell was her problem?

“Join us! Steven can sit out—“ Jeremiah starts, throwing the ball up in the air but catching it.

“No, no, I never agreed to that!” Steven argues, Jeremiah spins around and guessing by the look on his face or something he said that you couldn’t hear Steven groans before giving in.

“Actually we were about to go to the beach, right Belly?” Taylor speaks.

“Uh, yeah.. Y/N do you want to come?” Belly asks, looking away from her friend to look at you.

Telling by the annoyed look on Taylors face and the way she’s been looking at you, you can tell she doesn’t want you there. Or anywhere around her for that matter.

“No thanks, I’m pretty tired from shopping.” You tried to joke, chuckling to yourself.

“How could you be tired if you slept in this morning?” Taylor quips, shooting you a glare. Belly turns around to shoot her one, causing Taylor to shrug.

“Haha, yeah…” You mumble, scratching your arm. Oh god, the end of the week couldn’t come any faster.

Belly gives you an empathic look, or you think she did, you were too busy staring at your feet.

You didn’t want to go back inside because you didn’t want to seem like coward but you also didn’t want to stay if you weren’t wanted.

Jeremiah was quick to notice your awkwardness, telling you that you could dip your legs into the water on his side and so that’s what you did. Sitting on the edge of the pool, dangling your legs in the water and most important of all, sitting far far away from Taylor.

Instead of Belly and Taylor going to the beach like Taylor said they would, they play a few more rounds of volleyball until Taylor hit Conrad’s girlfriend in the face causing her and Conrad to go inside.

And soon Steven left because his girlfriend called him, causing him to almost drop his phone in the water, and because it was just Jeremiah vs. Belly and Taylor they finally decided to go to the beach.

“Hey, y’know Belly doesn’t care you slept in right?” Jeremiah says, splashing water at you. He swims closer to you, pulling himself out of the pool to sit on the edge next to you.

You roll your eyes, “Her friend does.”

“Taylor? Yeah, she’s a little cray cray.” He says, motioning it with his finger.

You laugh, shaking your head. “How long is she staying?”

“Just a few days, then we’ll be Taylor free for the rest of summer.”

The rest of summer.

“You should get in.” He says, elbowing your side.

“I don’t have a bathing suit.”

He stays silent for a moment, “So?” He pushes you into the water, your body submerging into the cold water as you shoot up coughing.

You can hear him laughing, while you’re basically choking on the chlorine filled water. “You jerk! I didn’t want to get my clothes wet!”

“You can still take them off.” He suggests, watching as you slicked your hair back.

You shoot him a playful glare, “In your dreams.”

“Every dream since I’ve met you.”

You splash him with water, “You’re stupid.”

He stares at you for a moment before tackling you under water, pulling you back up with his arm around your waist. “What’d you say?”

You wipe your eyes, trying to shove him off you but no budge. Your guys’ faces were even closer, your breath hitched. What was gonna happen?

He made eye contact with you a few times, and the times he wasn’t doing that he was staring at your lips. He started leaning in, closer and closer to the point where your noses were almost touching.

You felt like you couldn’t even breathe.

Did you even want this?

And just as he was about to move closer you shoved him away, taking him by surprise.

He backs away quickly, eyes widening.

“S-sorry.. I just… I just don’t really know you.” You say, scratching the back of your neck.

“No, yeah, yeah I shouldn’t have done that. You don’t have to apologize.” He says, eyes still as round as saucers.

“Uhrm… yeah…” You mumble, crossing your arms around yourself as you suddenly felt cold even though you were used to the water.

What a way to kill a mood. Why’d you even do that, damnit.

He nods, placing his lips into a tight line. “I’m gonna…” He closes his mouth, pointing to the house while backing up.

“Okay.” You say, nodding.

You watch him turn around, pull himself out of the water and grab a towel before he quickly goes inside

Leaving you in the pool alone as you stared at the spot he was just at.

Taglist: @mindflay3r @lexi-2004 @buckys2thicc @agoodmansaid @jeremiahfisherslover @yourfavoritefangirl @leslienjazzy @natsgaygf @justkayleighhere @puptails @simp4jackharlow @yobabygirlally @whenmypartysover @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @medusaslilsister @maexxc @siriuslysmoking @nowimyurdaisy @totallynotkaibiased @eevee0722 @theyallhaveluv4lyricb @wh0reforstefansalvatore @pariahsparadise

[milksuu]

Second Magic

Pairing(s): Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III & II / witch!fem!reader

Word count: 2.OK

Content/Warnings: soulmates, reincarnation, immortal, soft magic, slice of life, fluff, minimal use of y/n, minor angst, implied sexual themes, minor blood

Summary: Death claims everyone at some point. Unfortunately for you, your gift of magic cursed you with eternal youth and an ability that has shunned you from the village of Berk. More than one-hundred years later, memories resurface when you’re visited for a potion from Berk’s next chief.

He was the spitting image of your long-lost love—your soulmate—Hiccup Horrendous Haddock II.

a/n: hello there everyone! I'm back with something new to add to the hiccupxreader tags. still on my mythical/magical kick. I do plan to have about three parts to this. so please stay tuned for updates, or let me know if you'd like to join a tag list. thank you and please enjoy.

There came a knock at the door. No one ever knocked on a witch's door by accident.

From the bedroom window, you peeked through the muslin curtain. Below the two-story cottage, grew a garden of lush greens and wild flowers. Where the weeds and dandelions led a trail to your front porch, a figure stood at your door. More pestering thuds bothered the home and the skin of your nose wrinkled. Muttering a thing or two, you ambled down the aching stairs. Before reaching the door, you rummaged through a decorative drawer, procuring a gray river rock. It was enchanted with one of your magic spells—a screeching stone, you called it.

“You can stop trying to break down my door,” you said, pressing the stone against the entryway. “Didn’t you read the sign posted on the oak tree outside? Clearly, it said no trespassing.”

“No—think I might’ve missed it,” the muffled voice of a young man answered, and it seemed honest enough. The stone hummed at the response. “Are you [Y/N], by chance?”

“There’s a chance I could be,” you said with soured lips. “Not many people come this far into the woods. And fewer people know of me, let alone my name. Which leads me to ask, who exactly sent you?”

“Gothi sent me. She mentioned you two knowing each other,” he replied in truth, and the stone continued its soft hymns. “She said if there’s anyone who could help me, it would be you.”

She’s still alive?

“That all depends. I trust Gothi, but I’ll need to trust you as well. You can start by telling me your name.”

There was a beat in the air. “It’s Hiccup.”

The ghost of your breath trapped itself inside your chest. That name—it had been buried beneath over a century ago. Yet the stone sang sweetly, and your heart squeezed in a haunting delight. A part of you wished it would scream. Wretched and revolting as it was, it would give you reason to cast the stranger away.

To your grief, he wasn’t so much a stranger as you thought.

Pocketing the stone, you opened the door with a creak. Meeting the green meadow of his eyes, your magic dug its fiery claws between your ribs. With all your power, you tried not to let his familiar freckles unsettle you. Fearing if you did, your magic would spring out of control. The windows would shatter. The roof would crumble to dust. The fireplace would spark and scorch the floors. Or something much worse. Touch him, and reveal when death would knock on his own door.

You wouldn’t let that happen. Not again. Not ever.

With a deep breath, you pushed the door open wider. “Come in,” you said, "we can talk more inside.”

He tipped his chin and thanked you for the invitation. When he stepped through, his gaze swept about your home. Dried flowers, herbs and spices hung from every inch of ceiling by twine. Sunlight spilled from the white-painted windows, and warmed the cushions of two chairs perched near the fireplace. Bookcases stood on either side of the mantle, stretched tall enough to touch the rafters, and wide enough to cover the entire walls. At the back of the home was the kitchen and brewing space. With emerald cabinets and honied-countertops, stacked with jars and vials, scattered petals, and corked potions.

“Make yourself comfortable,” you said. “I’ll prepare us something warm to drink.”

With a blink, he tore his gaze from the foliage and oddities. “Sure, I would appreciate it.”

When you left for the kitchen, he absently traced a hand against the chairs upholstery. Although it matched its counterpart, there were subtle differences; the legs were built taller, and arm rests crafted higher. When he took a seat, it felt made for someone of his stature—an odd thing to notice. His gaze raised to a row of books on one of the bookcase shelves. One particular book stood out among the jewel-toned backs of scarlet, green, and yellow. A simple spine of leather, softened over-time with use, and streaks of charcoal staining the edges.

Like a cool breeze, a sense of familiarity swept through him, touching the marrow of his bones. It begged the question.

“Have you always lived here by yourself?” Hiccup asked.

“You could say that.” 

For a moment, you lost yourself in the fragrant pools. When was the last time you served someone tea? It may have been the day before a young man's mortal fate—the same day you couldn’t convince him to stay. Leaving you to join the collection of things he left behind. Your throat tightened around what felt like a ball of hot wax. Searing as it was, you swallowed its entirety. 

Balancing the trembling porcelain, you returned to the next room and took a seat of your own. 

“I’m sorry if I was rude earlier. I’ve…never welcomed visitors. It’s always been safer that way.” With a smile, you offered him a cup. “But between Gothi sending you and your genuine nature, I’d like to help you.”

“Thanks—and you don’t have to apologize to me. I’m the one who decided to come here unannounced. So…” Hiccup trailed off, taking a drink. He stared at the ripples with solemnity. “My father isn’t doing so well. And you know Gothi, she’s the best Seer we have on Berk. She’s done all she can, but it’s not going to be enough. When I asked if there was anything more I could do, she recommended that I seek you out.”

“I’m sorry about your father,” you said, lowering your own cup. “If Gothi wasn’t able to help him, then he must be very sick.”

“I’m trying not to think about it too much.” He worked the tension of his lips between his teeth. Then pitched a sincere look your way, and said, “So you know, I’m not worried about you being a witch. If anything, I find myself pretty lucky to ask for your help. Even if that does mean I have to sell my soul for it.”

“I have some good news for you, then. I won’t be needing it. Quite frankly, I wouldn’t even know what to do with yours,” you said with a laugh. “But most spells and potions require something of personal value. At least, the stronger ones do.”

Setting your tea cup aside, you hopped onto your toes. Approaching one of the bookcases, you trailed a finger against the backs of countless titles. Your search came to an end when you plucked one out; dense with musky pages, a silver lock clasped at the side, and a small wooden door carved into the cover.

Peering over your shoulder, you found your nosy company arched forward in his chair. You cleared your throat, “Don’t think about peeking over here. A witch never reveals her secrets.”

He apologized under his breath, and shifted his chin away. But like a child snuffed out of his curiosity, he wore a pout of disappointment. You smiled in amusement, and brought your attention back to the book.

You knocked against the small door in a melodic tempo. The little door sprang open, revealing a tiny ear inside. You brought your mouth close, whispering the incantation with the smallest voice you could muster. Too loud, and the door would snap shut against your lips.

An unpleasant experience you remembered from childhood.

The lock clicked open, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Page after page, you mumbled and zipped through each recipe. A couple more turns, you tapped against the right one. Breezing through the ingredients, you had all but one. Oh buttercups, you blushed.

“What is it?” Hiccup furrowed his brows at your dawning expression. “Everything all right?”

“It’s a bit hard to explain. I—I don’t have one of the ingredients any longer. But maybe you still do,” you exclaimed, taming the warmth of your cheeks. “Come with me.”

With a tilt of your head, you gestured to the kitchen. Your guest rose from his seat, following your footsteps. With instructions for him not to touch anything, you scrambled to find your proper ingredients; mugwort, newt tail, bog water, and a strand of witch hair. Tossed and muddled by mortar and pestle, you poured the mixed contents into a glass jar.

“Time for the last ingredient,” you said, picking up a kitchen knife, “hold out a finger.”

Although hesitant, he lifted a hand. “Tell me you’re not going to cut it off. I’m already down a leg, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Not at all. That would be more than what I actually need,” you answered, albeit a little too plainly. With your other hand, you touched the stone tucked in your dress pocket. “You only have to be honest when I ask you this question. If you’re not, then we’ll both hear about it.”

He nodded carefully. “Go ahead.”

“Have you ever—Oh, how should I put this?” Calming the storm of embarrassment brewing in your chest, you exhaled the words in one breath. “Have you ever committed the coupling act?”

There was a gulp. Then a twitch of his lips. Followed by a blush that bloomed from nose to ear. “What? No, I—I haven’t. What kind of question is that?”

Without a word, you sliced the tip of his finger. A hiss sizzled from his mouth when you squeezed it open. Aligning the bottle underneath, you caught the blood falling in pitter-patters. Once enough dripped into the brew, a plum of red smoke burst into the air. Both of you coughed and waved your hands around the space. When the pungent cloud faded into wisps, you corked the bubbling potion.

“A warning would’ve been nice.” He wrapped his finger in a handkerchief you provided. He went on to mutter, “Not sure why you couldn’t use your own finger.” By the delivery, the last part was meant to stay in his head. 

Embarrassment washed through your veins, and painted every inch of your skin posy pink. The sight of it colored his own complexion.

“I didn’t mean to say that, honestly,” he apologized after the realization struck him. “It just sort of came out.”

“Absolutely no tact at all,” you chastised, snatching back the handkerchief. “Gods, you’re just as bad as him.”

He blinked with mystification. “Him?”

A slip of the tongue had the back hairs of your neck bristling. Magic pulsed like coils of lightning in your stomach. Crackling up through your chest, wanting to burn deeper holes in your heart. The roof groaned and creaked. Grains of wood dust fell onto your nose, dispelling the awful feeling.

“You have to go. Please, take it and leave. And don’t worry about repaying me.” Before he could argue, you forced the potion into his possession. With a clap of a hand, the wood beneath his feet shifted, motioning him out the front door.

“Wait a second.“ He wedged his prosthetic between the shutting door and frame. “Right bookcase, third shelf, leather back.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“There’s a book that belongs to my family. Ask me how I know.” The question was rhetorical, and in your bafflement, he continued. “My families crest is sealed in its spine. And the only way you could have it is if someone gave it to you. You said you never had visitors. Sorry to say, but I’m not buying it.”

“That book has nothing to do with you or your family,” you glowered, and the stone screeched and howled from your pocket. You clapped your hands against your splitting ears, with your company mimicking your movements. Over the prevailing wails, you cried, “You’re right—I lied and I’m sorry for it! It belonged to your great-grand uncle. And that’s the truth of it.”

The screeching stone fell to whispers. But the thumping of your heart continued to beat in your ears. 

“Wait. My great-grand uncle?” He caught a breath in his throat. “You don’t mean—there’s no possible way you’re talking about—”

“I am.” Your voice dropped to a whisper. “My only visitor before you; Hiccup Horrendous Haddock II.”

[youwouldntdownloadapizza]

The Gates of Jackson | Joel Miller x F!Reader | Chapter 1 - New Arrivals

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You showed up at the gates of Jackson with hands covered in blood and no memory of how you got there. That was two years ago. Since then, you've become Maria's right-hand woman and the person in charge of Jackson's logistical backend. Patrol schedules, inventory—all your purview. When a patrol gone wrong forces you to get to know Joel, memories of your past begin resurfacing—along with their consequences.

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pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors DNI

word count: 1.6k

tags: no use of y/n, eventual smut, no beta we die like sarah, jackson era, other additional tags to be added, slow burn, ellie needs a hug, joel lives, good parent joel, reader-insert, reader insert, forced proximity, only one bed trope, nightmares, childbirth, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, soft joel, cuddling & snuggling, fluff, masturbation, pining, joel falls first, possibly demisexual reader (tbd), ptsd, ptsd flashbacks, panic attacks, amnesia, sexual braiding

chapter warnings: childbirth (mentioned)

Chapter 1 - New Arrivals

The first time you met Joel, he stank like shit. Literally, he smelled like he had rolled in it. You issued him soap, and sent him on his way. That was a loss to Jackson’s ledgers you were more than willing to take.

The second time, he smelled better. Unremarkable mostly, more of a neutral scent tinged with man smell around the edges. Nothing to write home about. Still, you issued him deodorant. Couldn’t take any chances.

He requested bullets, a basic first aid kit, and warm clothing. With Maria’s approval, you made the relevant deductions and issued the items at hand. You even sprung for wool socks. With a winter like this, he could use all the help he could get.

“You’re headed south, right?” you asked him as he packed a worn duffel bag.

“Colorado,” he replied. You waited, but that’s all he gave you. Guess he didn’t feel like elaborating.

“What about the girl, she need anything?”

He considered the offer, then asked, “You got any pens, pencils or anything? Notebooks? She likes to keep track of things, take notes. Draw, mostly,” he trailed off, scrubbing a hand over his face, “And we’re almost out of paper.”

You smiled at that. A girl after your own heart . “I’ll see what I can scrounge up.”

* * *

You asked Tommy about him, once the two of them were gone. He didn’t have much to say.

“Barely talked to the girl. Probably know about as much about her as you do. Joel… Well, Joel’s an enigma.”

You rolled your eyes at that. “Come on, Tommy. I’m asking for the basics, not his social security number.”

Tommy sighed. “He’s brash, he’s protective, he’s opinionated… I don’t know what much else to tell you. He’s just Joel. One of those people you gotta get to know just by knowing ‘em, I guess.”

You blinked twice. “Supremely helpful, Tommy.”

* * *

The next time you met Joel, he smelled better but looked worse. You only half-remembered his eyes, but something in them last time had been warmer. The ones you saw now were… dead, almost. Like something within them had been destroyed. Whether he’d been the one to do the destroying or it had been done to him remained to be seen.

You’d seen him and the girl with Tommy and Maria in the dining hall that first time they’d come to town, wolfing down chili like they’d just discovered, well, chili. They ate slower now, both of them, not like they weren’t in a rush but like their heads were elsewhere. The girl seemed to stare into nowhere—not all the time, but it was distinct when she did it.

Joel didn’t zone out. No, if anything he was zoned in . On that poor girl who had been so full of life just months ago, now hollowed out like far too many others. You’d see about filling her back up later. But for now, he was the one that perplexed you. Why was he so focused on her? What had happened out there? Part of you never wanted to find out, but part of you really, really did.

Regardless, she needed new shoes. So you joined them. The man stopped mid-chew, looking up at you with trepidation.

“Hi,” you smiled, “glad you two made it back in one piece.”

“Me too,” he replied, turning his attention back to his cud. You couldn’t tell if that was supposed to be a joke or not. You turned your attention to the girl.

“You’re Ellie, right? I’m Doe. Or that’s what most folks around here call me, anyway.”

“Doe?” She cocked an eyebrow. “Like a deer?”

“A female deer,” you winked back at her. She stared at you blankly. 

“It’s a song,” Joel muttered to her softly, “from before.”

“Oh,” Ellie nodded. The silence dragged, but thankfully you came prepared.

“Cobbler?” you offered bowls to each of them. It was fresh from the oven, still steaming and smelling of cinnamon.

“Yes, please!” Ellie yanked the bigger bowl towards herself, broccoli forgotten. She got a few bites in before Joel intervened, pulling the sugar aside and reinstating the vegetables. The girl frowned at that, but his pointed look said not to bother arguing. So she didn’t.

“Don’t worry, it’ll still be hot in a minute.” You tucked into your own cobbler, savoring the warm sweetness as it glided across your tongue. Even in Jackson, it was a delicacy. But it was spring, and the cherries were here. And you’d accounted for everything.

“Did you want something?” Joel asked, finishing his own plate and reaching for the cobbler.

“Ellie needs new shoes.”

“We’ve got it handled,” he said.

“Do you, though? You haven’t got much to trade with, and we’ve got plenty in inventory. That’s kind of what it’s there for. Why suffer blisters when communism’s got your back?”

“Can I?” Ellie’s face lit up. You liked seeing her eyes like that: brighter. They belonged that way.

Joel swallowed his cobbler, mulling over the idea. “After lunch,” he agreed, nodding to the eager teen. “Finish your cobbler first.”

* * *

Ellie’s new light-up sneakers lit the way as you exited the storeroom through your office. Joel had insisted on a sensible pair as well, but you couldn’t deny the kid a little whimsy.

“Maria give you your patrol schedule yet?” you asked him, nodding to the well-worn chalkboard in the corner. Routes on the left, days and times up top. Names filled in the boxes in between, a testament to your logistical wizardry.

“Not yet,” he said, crossing to examine it. “Guess she doesn’t need to, now.”

“I’ve got you paired up with Tommy. Seemed easiest, to get you started. You’ll be headed up to the lodge, it’s a pretty standard route. Get the occasional runner, but it’s wildlife more than anything.”

He nodded, heading toward where Ellie was already scampering out the door.

“See you Tuesday, I suppose. Guessing you’re the one to check-in with?” he asked.

You smiled at his correct assumption. 

“Sure am.”

* * *

You didn’t know Joel well enough to make assumptions about his punctuality, but Tommy was never late. Even you were late from time to time, often getting swept up in tasks and losing track of things. But the man was annoyingly punctual. According to Maria, that’s part of why she fell for him.

Tommy was late today.

You crossed to the large observation window lining one wall of your office. It gave you a clear view of the front gates and surrounding guard stations, but there was no sign of Tommy anywhere. Or Joel, for that matter.

A knock on your door interrupted your analysis. It was Eugene. The grizzled old man acted anything but, a smile breaking out across his face at the sight of you.

“Hey, Doe! How’s things?” He asked.

“Fine. I’m looking for Tommy, actually–”

“Didn’t you hear?” He interrupted, “Maria’s gone into labor. He’s with her at the clinic.”

Your stomach dropped. Here you were preparing to chew Tommy out for his tardiness when the whole time he’d been busy becoming a father. A very valid excuse.

“And Joel?” you asked. “They were supposed to patrol together this afternoon, lodge route.”

“Not sure. He wasn’t with them. Listen, I gotta go grab the baby blanket I made and drop it off, but you and I need to have a drink one of these days. I worry your hair’s gonna start falling out in clumps if you don’t take a break eventually.”

“Yeah, but then what would you do, patrol out to the dam with Jesse? There’s a reason I don’t pair you two up anymore.”

“Because you don’t like blackberries?” he chided.

You frowned, “No, because you spent so long harvesting them your 8 hour patrol took 12. I was this close to sending out a search party. A little planning prevents a lot of headaches, Eugene.”

He turned to leave, looking back over his shoulder to get the last word. “You know what else is good for headaches? Whiskey.”

You sent Eugene on his way with instructions to give Maria your best. You’d visit her when the baby was here. For now, you had a community to protect. 

With Tommy out of commission and Joel MIA, you’d have to find someone else to help you cover this patrol route. Dina was always a solid partner, if she was around. Devon the bartender could generally be counted on to have your back. Eugene would be ideal, but you didn’t want to make him work a double.

You headed to the stables to see who you could find. Upon entering, the warmth of the building and company of the animals soothed your unease, if only slightly. 

You found your horse’s stall, the gray spotted mare whinnying at your arrival.

“Hey, Bailey,” you smiled, offering her a slightly bruised apple. She took it gratefully, big brown eyes closing in enjoyment.

“She’s beautiful,” a voice said from behind you, making you jump.

“Sorry,” the voice stepped into the light, “It’s just me.”

“Joel,” you took a deep breath in an attempt to slow your racing heartbeat.

“Sorry I’m late–” 

You cut him off with a raised hand, looking him in the eye. 

“You’re not with your brother,” you finally said, more of a statement than a question.

“You’re not with your best friend,” he replied, offering no further details.

You sighed, debating arguing with him about it before deciding the subject was better left untouched. You had your reasons for staying away from childbirth. If Joel had his own, he was entitled to that. You weren’t going to press him on it, so long as he didn’t press you.

“Come on,” you said, swinging your leg over Bailey’s back and settling into the saddle, “We’re making up for lost time.”

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[redrose10]

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word count: 2,531

This chapter will touch on some darker subjects so I highlighted the specific trigger warning in red. In the story it’s not really detailed or any thing and is really minor but I still wanted to make it known just in case.

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Very brief allusion to suicide, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

*******************************************************

Alright here is chapter 9! Thank you to everyone that has read this story and for the comments and messages. I tried to add everyone to the tag list that I saw but I feel like I missed people and I apologize for that. I was never good at keeping tabs of a tag list.

Tag list: @gimeow @kam9404 @viankiss @baechugff @gaby-93 @kayleefriedchicken

You stared back still in shock from everything that had just happened to you. “Y/N are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

You shook your head as Yoongi wrapped his suit jacket around you gently pulling you into a hug. The cinnamon and vanilla scent that you’d come to hate was somehow comforting in that moment. After a few seconds he pulled you along with him.

“What about him?”, you asked looking back at the man still lying on the ground.

“Don’t worry about him. I’ll handle it later. Let’s just get you out of here.”

He quickly had a car ready and got you inside while he got in after you advising the driver to head to Jimins.

“Yoongi who was that guy and how did he know so much about us?”

He ran his hand through his already ruffled hair. You noticed the bruise on his knuckles starting to form.

“It’s a really long story Y/N.”

You scoffed, “Yoongi he just assaulted me and knew a lot of my personal information so I think I deserve an explanation regardless of how long the story is.”

“You’re right. Once we get to Jimin’s I’ll explain everything.”

You looked over at him noticing how disheveled he looked. You wanted to reach over and smooth his hair and comfort him, but you decided against it after remembering everything that happened between the two of you recently.

“How did you know where to find me?”, you asked stop kind of surprised that it was him who came to your rescue.

“Well I saw you leave out the front entrance when I was talking to Taemin and I was going to go after you then but I figured you’d want some space so I stayed back. After you were gone for a while I started to get worried and began looking around and then I got a call from Jungkook?”

“You’re intern Jungkook?”

He chuckled, “Yeah, apparently he had met a new friend during the auction and was in the backseat of a car that was parked on the street with that friend and he saw you. He called me and said you were with a guy but he wasn’t sure if you were l with him willingly or not because you looked uncomfortable so I started running towards where you were while I stayed on the phone with him and he kept an eye on you and that’s how I found you. At first I was just going to leave you be because if you wanted to be with another guy I have no right to stop you but when Jungkook said you looked uncomfortable I knew I had to at least check on you and then I heard you telling him to stop and that’s when I decided to step in.”

“Oh well I’ll have to tell Jungkook thanks for looking out for me next time I see him.”

Once back at Jimins you quickly showered and changed into some comfy clothes and headed back towards the living room. Yoongi had borrowed some clothes from Jimin so he was comfy as well and he walked over handing you a mug of warm milk. Smiling you accepted the glass.

After he took a seat next to you he started flipping through channels on the tv.

“Okay Yoongi enough stalling. Tell me what’s going on.”

He let out a long sigh and set the remote down, “Alright, soooo the guy that attacked you is Suri’s brother, Hwan.”

“I’m sorry what?!”, you asked in between coughing on the sip of milk you just swallowed.

He continued, “Yep. I’ve known Suri and her brother since we were kids. We all went to the same school. He’s a year younger than us. Not long after everything fell apart with Mia I developed a friends with benefits relationship with Suri but I was clear from the start that I never wanted anything more. I knew rather quickly though that she was developing feelings for me so I tried to end the relationship but she made an offer. And then I got really selfish.”

“Yoongi what did you do?”

“Remember how I said that at one point I had dreams to be a music producer and rapper?”

You nodded.

“Well Suri’s dad happens to own Bangtan Records, one of the most successful labels in Asia. After trying to break things off she promised me she would get her dad to release my mixtape if I kept seeing her. I know now that I should’ve just walked away but at the time I was hurt and going through a lot of shit mentally and emotionally and I thought it was a great idea. I lost my dream of marrying Mia but maybe I could still achieve my dream of making music. I gave her a copy of the tape and we continued on with our friends with benefits relationship.”

He paused to take a deep breath. You looked at him wide eyed waiting for what was next.

“Anyways after like a year or so she still hadn’t given her dad the tape. I was in a better place mentally and I had started focusing on the company more so I didn’t really care about releasing music at that point. Honestly, I kind of forgot about the whole thing until a few months ago when I told her that I was ending things for good. I told her I was married and wanted to be a better husband and that included not sleeping around with anyone any more. Obviously she didn’t take it well and brought up the tape again. She said if I didn’t continue the relationship that she would have it released.”

You sat there really confused by the whole story and you didn’t mean to let out a laugh but you just couldn’t stop it.

“Yoongi please forgive me for saying this but that seems like a really dumb reason to keep going through all of this. Why don’t you just let her release the mix tape? What’s the worst that could happen? People make fun of you for some cringy lyrics you wrote a long time ago. I mean you’ve embarrassed yourself enough over the years anyways so this shouldn’t be anything new. It would probably blow over in a few weeks and then you could move on with your life free from Suri.”

You realized your words may have been a little harsher than you intended when you noticed the redness of his cheeks. He scoffed, “It’s not that simple Y/N. I wrote most of those lyrics at a really dark time in my life. I talk about hating my parents and the life I was forced into even though I’ve been very privileged since birth and have never had to worry about money or any real world problems. I talk shit about capitalism but now I own a company that feeds into it and runs off of it. I’d be the biggest hypocrite out there. Theres a song where I rap about hooking up with any woman I see and I say something about tongue technology and going to Hong Kong.” You bit your lip to try and hide a chuckle for that one but Yoongi sees it. “I was young and dumb and thought I was cool. Okay?”, he said with raised eyebrows before continuing again, “I mean there’s even a song where I talk about how many times I thought about just ending it all so I wouldn’t have to feel anything any more and I could stop being a failure at everything. If that tape gets out it’ll ruin me and my business and everything that I worked hard to build. We’ll loose investors and business partners which will mean millions if not billions of dollars gone. I’ll be the laughing stock of the corporate world and the company could crumble. I’d be an even bigger embarrassment to my family than I already have been.”

“So what are you going to do Yoongi? Keep sleeping with her just to shut her up?”

“Honestly, after you walked out I thought about it. Not wanting to hurt you any more was the only reason I ended things with her to begin with so if you weren’t going to be in the picture I didn’t see any reason why I should stop. But I just don’t want to do it any more. I don’t want to hurt you any more and I don’t want this to keep hanging over my head.”

“Okay so if you ended things with her then why did she send you that text that I saw at the cabin? About last week being fun and the lingerie?”

“She had been insisting that I either meet up with her or she was releasing the tape. So the week before you and I went on our anniversary trip I did meet up with her just to shut her up for a while.”

You gasped, “So you did lie to me?” He went into panic mode grabbing your hands into his.

“No no no Y/N it’s not what you think. I didn’t meet up to sleep with her. We got dinner at that Japanese restaurant that had just opened down the street from my office. We had a private room and she ended up storming out of the place leaving me there. You can even ask the staff. They saw it all. I told her again that I wasn’t interested in that type of relationship any more and that her and I were over with. I offered her money. I offered her jewelry, or a car, or a penthouse to just go away. She wouldn’t accept any of it. At the end of the dinner she told me that not only would she release the tape but she’d make my life miserable in every way possible that she could, including making sure that you were miserable as well and then she left. She had been texting me like that the whole week leading up to the trip. Different photos and videos and messages. I think she was hoping that you would eventually see the message and get upset which is exactly what happened. I would always just delete them when they came through and never responded to any of her texts but I’m just too afraid to block her right now.”

“And what about her brother? How does he play into this?”

“Well Hwan never did like me to begin with. He’s always had this weird inferiority complex with me. He always has the need to prove that he’s better than me or to have what I have, even when we were younger. Anndddd I also might have slept with one or two or maybe three of his girlfriends over the years.”

You began rubbing your temples, “Seriously Yoongi? Is there anyone in this country that you haven’t slept with?” He just shrugged his shoulders before continuing, “I’m assuming that him and Suri saw it as a winning situation for both of them. They knew that hurting you would hurt me, you’d get upset and want nothing to do with me leaving me available for Suri, and Hwan would also get the satisfaction of taking something or someone that I love away from me so that’s why he went after you today.”

“Okay then and how did he know about Namjoon? He mentioned something about how Namjoon might actually care for me?”

You didn’t miss the eye roll that Yoongi gave at that question but you chose to ignore it in the moment. He ran his hands over his face, “I really don’t know Y/N. I’ve never mentioned him to either of them.” The thought that maybe this guy had been stalking you a lot longer than just tonight made your skin crawl. You didn’t know of any other way he could know about you and Namjoon.

This was all so much information to take in and you could feel a headache coming on but if this had you so stressed you could only imagine what Yoongi felt like.

“Yoongi I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain yourself sooner. Even though I was upset I should’ve at least given you the chance.”

He shook his head, “No no I completely understand why you did what you did. I was really upset too because just when I had decided to try and we were making a little progress I thought it was all going to be taken away from me. I should’ve chased after you but I didn’t want to hurt you any more than I already have. I am really sorry Y/N. For everything. You would be so much better off if you never came here and married me. You deserve so much more that what I can offer. I’m sorry you’re stuck with me.”

You noticed his hands shaking slightly. You gave them a little squeeze being careful to not be too hard on the bruised spot. Rubbing your thumb over the area you whispered, “Thank you for buying that painting for me today. You knew it was exactly what I wanted. And also thank you for, you know, saving me tonight. You really were my hero.”

“So does that mean I get moved up to Harry Potter status now or am I still Voldemort?”, he said flashing you a gummy smile you hadn’t seen in so long.

“Whoah slow down there. You still have a lot more groveling to do before I 100% forgive you for everything and give you Harry Potter status.”

He chuckled, “Understood. I will work on it.”

You sat in silence for a while trying to figure out how to proceed. Finally you asked, “Yoongi she’s blackmailing you which is pretty illegal. Why don’t you just go to the police or get lawyers involved or something? You obviously have the money and power.”

“It’s not that simple Y/N. I signed away the rights to that music so even if I do go after her the label can still release it and then it would be all for nothing with a legal battle on top of it.”

“I don’t know Yoongi. I feel like there has to be a way around this other than you just continuing to sleep with her. Which by the way is not going to work for me, so if you want this to work then we need to figure something else out.”

Before he could speak Jimin walked in dropping his bags at the entrance while being completely oblivious to everything that had happened during the last several hours. He curiously looked at the two of you sitting next to each other while holding hands.

He sat down on the other couch while pointing a finger at the two of you, “Soooo I’d love to know what’s going on between the two of you and why you’re holding hands in my living room right now. But I just saw something even stranger downstairs. Suri and her brother are currently down in the lobby with two police officers. Any idea why?”