#It's not the same. He's not the same. Call them by the same name and people will know what you mean...

[keferon]

May I ask what were the best transformers media you ever saw/read?

Well Transformers Prime, Transformers 1986 and IDW comics are having the first place that’s for sure

And then the second place is kind of shared by Fall of Cybertron, Exodus, Prime wars trilogy, Robots in disguise(2001) and Transformers One.

The third place goes to G1, Animated, Earthspark, Armada, War for Cybertron Netflix series, Aligned Robots in disguise, Bumblebee, Rise of the Beasts and Cyberverse because I only liked some little parts of them.

And then I also saw some of the Bay movies, Victory and Headmasters and didn’t like them at all.

Separate first place for J-Decker. It is not exactly Transformers but it is a show about giant robots and I loved it

[robertsfloyd]

Sidekick

your friend, ex teammate, needs help with his new 'sidekick'

joaquin torres x reader

"i need a favour."

hearing those words from sam wilson always had you pulling a face. it always had you denying him, telling him you wouldn't help, and eventually agreeing.

it was sam, how could you say no?

for the first time since steve went back in time, you told sam where you were. you'd been helping remotely since steve left, not quite willing to jump back into super hero life. but you still did what you could to help.

you told him where to find you and waited. waited in your garage kitted out for super hero training. even if you weren't willing to jump into superhero life, you were ready for it.

you watched as the truck pulled upon your driveway. living in the middle of nowhere, it could be nobody else but sam.

"you're late," you called, arms folded over your chest as you looked at him.

sam raised his hands as his passenger climbed out of the car. "traffic," he called, his usual smile on his face.

you rolled your eyes, stood up and accepted the hand sam offered to you. "it's good to see you, cap," you mumbled as he wrapped his arms around you.

"good to see you too, kid."

you stepped away from him, looked at the young man just past him. your eyebrows went up, eyes moving to sam. "is this it?"

you didn't mean it like that, but it was the same thing you'd said when tony stark brought peter parker to you. you knew what you were doing.

he was cute, dark curls and muscular arms. not bad to look at, actually. but you weren't looking at him in that way. you were looking at the amount of work you needed to do.

"he wants to be the next falcon," sam said, a chuckle leaving his lips.

your poses were matching, arms folded over your chests and legs just slightly parted as you looked at the young man. "what's your name?" you asked, nodding towards him.

his smile was enough to light up your garage. "joaquin torres," he answered, starting towards you. his hands were clasped together, eyes shining like stars as he looked at you. "it's an honour to meet you, ma'am."

you laughed, shaking your head. "none of that ma'am shit," you mumbled. "makes me fee old."

striding towards him, you look in every inch of him. military, you just weren't sure what kind. army, navy, air force. he was bound to be one of them.

"so, you wanna be a superhero," you said as you circled him, a predator observing its prey. you wouldn't strike, not until you'd readied him to strike back.

"i can work with this," you said. it was more than tony stark had given you in peter parker. "hands up, soldier. show me what you've got."

joaquin raised his hands. fists at the ready, protecting his face. he looked at you, waited for you to do the same.

you swiped his legs out from beneath him. a yelp left his lips as he crashed to the mats beneath his feet.

"lesson one, don't just guard your face."

it was a simple lesson, one that shouldn't need to be taught. but you knew superheroes. fighting them, beating them, training them to beat you.

you offered him your hand, pulled him to his feet. even though you had sent him crashing to the mat, he was still smiling.

his hand was warm as he got up and brushed himself up. "ready to go again?" you asked.

he opened his mouth to reply, but you swept your legs out form beneath him once again. he gasped as he went down, but he grabbed your leg, pulling you down with him.

"hey!" you cried, unable to stop your fall. but you couldn't deny that you were impressed.

"let me guess," he said, the both of you still on the floor. "be ready for anything?"

"be ready for anything," you echoed.

but, suddenly, you were on top of him, keeping his arms pinned with your legs. he tried to move, tried to flip you off of him, but he couldn't. he could have used his legs, could have driven his knee into your side to dislodge you, but he didn't.

"lesson three, if you go down, don't stay there."

"got it," he said, voice squeaking.

finally, you got off of him. turning away from him, you walked towards sam. "kids got potential," you mumbled, folding your arms over your chest.

footsteps on the mat, that was the only way you knew he was coming towards you. you turned quickly, drove your elbow into his chest before he could get to you.

he went down, gasping for breath. "shit!" you cried, hands covering your mouth. "shit, don't do that!"

he raised his thumb as he tried to get control of his breathing. "got it," he gasped and took your hand when you offered it to him.

***

it had been weeks of this arrangement. eventually, sam stopping bringing joaquin by, he just came on his own.

he strode in, jacket on his body. he didn't look ready to get his ass handed to him.

"falcon," you said as he strode into the garage.

his usual bright, pretty smile came onto his face. shrugging off his jacket, joaquin dropped it into the corner of the garage and stepped onto the mat. "not too sore today?" you asked as you copied his pose, both of you ready to strike.

you'd transformed him. where he once was a lamb, he was now the lion. "ready to go," he replied, still grinning.

you grinned right back.

he got the first hit in, but you blocked it. hit after hit, you blocked all of them, but he backed you up until you stepped off the mat. his eyes travelled down, enough of a distraction for you to knock him to the floor.

joaquin pulled you with him. he hooked his leg over your body, keeping you on the floor as he climbed on top of you. joaquin's chest heaved as he sat on top of you, trapping your arms under his legs. "do i win?" he asked with a grin.

you tipped your head to the side, a hum leaving your lips. "maybe," you replied and drove your knee into his side.

joaquin fell to the side and you rolled on top of him. "no," you said, sitting on his stomach. "i win."

his hands were on your hips. his arms and legs were free, he could have dislodged you and taken the win for himself. but, instead, he placed his hands on your hips, his thumb rubbing over the exposed skin above your shorts. "you win," he echoed.

he pulled you forward slightly. your hands met his chest as you stared down at him. "what're you doing, falcon?" you whispered.

you could have moved, could have climbed off of him if you were uncomfortable. but you weren't uncomfortable, not in the slightest. you had been in this position several times since sam first brought him to you, but it had never been like this.

but you weren't complaining.

"i think i wanna kiss you."

his hands travelled up, settled on your back as you leaned towards him. your hands travelled from his chest to the mat on either side of his head. "i think i wanna kiss you, too."

he kissed you and you kissed him. it didn't matter who made the first move. his grip on you tightened, holding you close. but the two of you kept things sweet. eyes closed, no tongue involved.

you pulled away from him, sat back and stared down at him. his hands travelled back down to your hips as he grinned at you. "i win," he said, this thumb moving again.

"wrong again, falcon."

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru

♡ TW: yandere, noncon, drugs, somnophilia

♡ FEM reader

There are few constants in Gojo’s life. Suguru is one of them. Shoko is another. They’re his friends—his comrades—extensions of himself in many ways. Similar. He isn't around many others—fewer who aren’t sorcerors, and otherwise, no girls. 

None but you, that is.

Suguru’s girlfriend.

And oh, are you sweet. The sweetest. The kindest. The cutest. You’re so normal, it’s really a wonder—how you talk at great length about the most mundane things. You’re problem-free—stressless. Talking to you is like taking an antidepressant. He can see why Suguru keeps you around even when it’s so irresponsible. Either of them can die at any moment—it’s almost cruel to have a significant other. But he can’t blame him. He wants you, too.

At first, it’s innocent. Weird, totally, but innocent. When they go out, he’ll ask Suguru if you’re joining them—hoping you will—feeling giddy to meet you. Blushing when you start greeting him with a hug, calling him by his given name. You’re becoming so close—it’s almost like you feel the same way.

He knows it’s wrong. But his body doesn’t follow. And that moral feeling of needing to do right is only skin deep and so easily shed. And when he has you there, so drunk and so high and so ready to be taken advantage of, with Geto fast asleep and none the wiser—who can blame him?

You won’t remember anyway. And what you don’t know can’t hurt. Even though deep down he wishes you’ll never forget. His touch, his tongue, his cock, and how good it feels inside you when he fills you up raw.

♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[sapphiresonstrings]

farm·er

/ˈfärmər/

noun

1.a person who owns or manages a farm.

A person who manages and operates a farm is called a farmer. This is how we have always used that term, even when we're talking about Anglo-Saxon England or ancient Egypt.

The farmer is the person who stays on the farm year-round, performs necessary maintenance, oversees labor, and makes key decisions. They usually also do some of the farm work, but not always. Compare the manager of a McDonald's, who oversees the other workers and also (usually) does some work themselves. This is similar to how a farmer on a large farm will manage his farmhands.

Sometimes they own the land, sometimes they rent it from a landlord, but in all cases the farmer is the manager on the scene. In a very small farm it may be the case that the farmer has no underlings and has to do all the work himself, and this was common throughout history, but if a farmer ever gains the ability to hire help and expand his farm it's natural that he'll do so, and the people he hires will not be farmers.

Many farms will hire on temporary laborers during the harvest. These are sometimes called called pickers, itinerant laborers, or day laborers (because it was common in the past for them to be paid by the day - there's even a Bible story that features this practice, Matthew 20:1-16). There are probably hundreds of different names for this practice depending on what they're being hired to do, but the pattern of farms needing temporary workers during some seasons but not others is consistent. In the ancient world there were often seasonal migrations from the highlands to the lowlands so that the highlanders could seek wage labor on lowland farms during the harvest. I have never in my life heard these people referred to as farmers.

Many farms will also have permanent workers under the farmer. I've usually seen these people referred to as farmhands. Historically, farmers have also tended to put their children to work, and we don't usually refer to the children as farmers in their own right.

In The Wizard of Oz, the three men who work on Auntie Em and Uncle Henry's farm (played by the same actors as the Tin Woodman, Scarecrow, and Cowardly Lion) are farmhands. Interestingly, these characters are not in the books, so this is a social arrangement that the director in 1939 expected audiences to recognize. Interesting how things change as we get more and more alienated from rural life.

In summary, a farmer is the manager of a farm, and not all agricultural workers are farmers. This is not a modern phenomenon, and we do not need to update our understanding because nothing has changed. If anything, modern city-dwellers who are unfamiliar with life on a farm have invented an entirely new misconception about all farmers being subsistence farmers, which has not really been true for over 6,000 years.

It is so disingenuous when supermarkets have "grown by: Farmer X" on their packaging because it's like, I'll be looking at a pack of strawberries grown by farmer x and he'll actually be the managing director of a fruit farm that employs 2,000 people as pickers!

[oatmealwrites]

JJK Valentine's Date! <3

[NSFW] How your Feb. 14th goes!

non-curse au bc i like being happy :)

regular masterlist | jjk masterlist

Tags: nanami a sweetheart, oral (m+f receiving), creampies, p in v, BREEDING KINK [im sorry], fluffy Suguru, bath sex, exhibition gojo if u squint, dressing room sex, mirror sex, bend over furniture, mating press, riding, public nudity?, semi-public sex, strap on sex, varying levels of relationship [dating, fiancé, married], MDNI, 18+

Characters: Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Toji, Kamo Choso, Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, Higuruma Hiromi, Ryomen Sukuna, Shoko Ieiri

don't look at the post date, IK it's past the 14th

word count: 5.9k [IM SORRY]

NOT PROOFREAD [im tired]

~~~~~~~~~

Nanami Kento:

Being the proper gentleman Kento is, he had already planned your Valentine’s Day date weeks in advance. He booked a reservation at your favorite restaurant, ensured the table had a window view so you could people watch, and had purchased a variety of your flowers to greet you with a beautiful bouquet. A brand new 3-wick candle of your preferred scent was also placed in your shared bedroom and bathroom, and all the usual housework had already been taken care of to ensure you both could relax this evening. 

Dinner itself went by smoothly; the two of you enjoying a few drinks, and when you stumble through the front door of your shared apartment in a tipsy haze, you can’t keep your hands to yourselves. 

Warm palms knead the flesh of your ass while your fingers tug at the blonde strands of hair on the back of his head; your lips in a messy french as his tongue takes its time to re-memorize the layout of your mouth. Shuffled feet attempt to wander into the bedroom without breaking the connection and the way his erection desperately grinds into your abdomen fills your mind with static. 

By the time he guides your thighs to meet the edge of the bed, you tear your lips from his and chuckle when he takes a second to chase after them. A slight whine in his throat and concern in his eyes. Was he expecting too much? Had he misread the situation, and you simply wanted a more peaceful evening? What if–

“Kento~” Your words snap him from his trance and he eagerly waits for you to continue. “I wanna give you your gift.”

Your voice is a siren’s call he could listen to all day long, and in a haze he follows your direction to strip and lay flat on the bed. His conscience comes back when you tug at the final knot of the soft red rope fastening his other wrist to the headboard. Both arms are rendered motionless and Kento can only watch as you shimmy your dinner dress to the floor and crawl up to him wearing a new lacey lingerie set in the same shade of crimson as the ropes on his body. 

His mouth is open with labored breaths as you plant a variety of kisses all over his body and leave a possessive mark in a variety of locations only you will ever see. Your lips trace down his pecs, then kiss down his navel until you finally give attention to his throbbing erection.

Veins litter his shaft while pre cum drips profusely from his flushed cockhead; Kento desperately watching and waiting for you to give it some much needed attention. And like the good girlfriend you are, you do.

A long lick across the slit allows you to savor the salty and light taste of his arousal while his head is thrown back in pleasure. Acrylic nails (that he paid for) trace the veins as you guide his pretty cock between your glossed lips and inch him inside further and further. 

Heavy balls ache as you jerk off the length you can’t fully take and your tongue rubs flat against his frenulum. He feels like his skin is on fire and your name leaves his mouth like a prayer– and while he would love to guide your head and push your pretty hair out of your face, he can’t. And it only turns him on even more.

Instead, he tilts his head up with any remaining strength and flexes his thighs in a pathetic attempt to jerk off further into your mouth as hot ropes of cum shoot down your throat.

“Mmm f-fuck! Cumming…. Oh i’m fucking cumming…”

You lick up each drop of cum that falls from your lips and spills back onto his shaft as Kento breathes heavily above you in an attempt to come back to reality. Whining slightly at the overstimulation, you climb back up and grant him a kiss which he eagerly returns, humming as he tastes himself on your tongue. 

He tugs slightly at the ropes. “Please, angel. Let me make you feel good too.”

You agree, and as soon as the knot is loosened, he’s pawing the ropes off and tumbling onto you to show you just how grateful he is for your sweet gift. 

The evening continues with several more orgasms between the both of you, and enough of his cum fucked so deep into your cunt, you’re wondering if a morning after pill could save you this time. But there’s another gift Kento is eagerly awaiting to give you, a little velvet box tucked away in his mundane sock drawer.

He knows it would be too cliche to ask you if you could be his forever on Valentine’s Day… so he resigns that he’ll have to wait just a little bit longer to pop the question. Your planned vacation to Malaysia in a few weeks seems ideal. ;) 

Fushiguro Toji:

Toji never had much money on hand to splurge on all the nice things you would look at whenever you two went out; his own gambling addiction eating too much into any disposable income, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t romantic at times.

After his wife died, he figured romance was permanently out of the picture for a guy like him, settling on one night stands and casual flings…until he met you. And despite his egotistical and brooding demeanor, he has a soft spot for you– and an impeccable memory, which is why he had actually planned out this stupid holiday a few weeks in advance.

Despite him having no interest in a Hallmark holiday, he knew you liked the extra attention from time to time and figured it would be worth it to see you happy. This has led to him actually finding a sitter for Megumi and stashing enough cash to order you takeout from your favorite places while a movie plays on your tv at home. 

The two of you eat, drink, and watch the movie cuddled on the couch until Toji figures it’s time for his favorite meal. Legs thrown up over his shoulders as your thighs threaten to squish his head, he keeps his long fingers thrusting up inside you as his tongue laps and sucks at your puffy clit. 

“Coooome on, that’s it… you can do it doll. One more f’me”

His voice is deep and the vibration spurs you to cum on his face again– the total number of times now unknown to you. Toji already kept you perched on the counter when you went to get a glass of water, eating you out as if he were starving. Then, he splayed you out on the rug by the fireplace and beneath the TV, keeping you squirming as his tongue fucked into your weeping cunt with such force it made you see stars. Of course you had to ride his face promptly after– your pussy was apparently ‘telling him she wanted it’.

The cute frilly red lingerie you had purchased for the evening sits in torn pieces on the floor as Toji manhandles you up and around the back of the couch. Bending you over the frame; your face and chest smush against the back cushions as he drags his swollen tips up and down the lips of your pussy. 

Stretching past the first few muscles of resistance, Toji sighs when he bottoms out and smacks his heavy balls into the flesh of your ass with a soft ‘plap!’. Mind numb already, he chuckles watching the way you drool pathetically onto the fabric as he molds your cunt to the shape of his dick. 

Toji ensures to gloat about the way only he can fuck his smart girl so dumb in only a matter of seconds with his cock as the tip ruts against your cervix. 

He hadn’t planned on fucking you so filthy this evening; hand on his chest he was going to do ‘love making’ the old fashioned way with missionary and slow strokes. Yea, well fuck that. 

Toji already shows his love to you other ways– beating up deadbeat losers who try hitting on you, always doing the manual labor you can’t quite figure out [who knows what a spark plug is anyways], and never letting you sleep in an empty bed even if it means he’s coming home late in the night from his shitty job.

This moment, fucking you so filthy despite the way you seemed to have warmed up his heart into a softer mush, is his favorite thing. He’s not sure he’s out for marriage again– titles are now something he doesn’t often use because of his first wife. But that doesn’t mean he sees you as something different– you’re his girl. The first thing he sees in the morning and the last thing he sees at night, and he intends to keep it that way until one of you croaks and then he can keep doing it in the afterlife. 

“Come on doll– you can take a bit more, right?”

He doesn’t need to have a big ceremony or commotion to prove the way he loves you– though he’s been considering giving you a ring to wear to make other guys fuck off from the way they stare so shamefully. It’s also why he doesn’t feel the need to have a special title when he heaves up your upper body from its limp position to squish into his chest; his lips nibbling your ear. “if your– nghh.. pussy keeps sucking me in like that… you’re gonna aahh … make Megumi a big brother.”

Kamo Choso:

Choso wasn’t particularly well versed in the semantics of romantic holidays, so when Yuji highlighted the importance of Valentine’s Day, he made sure to let you know he really cared about you. At least that was the plan, instead, his appointment ran much later than he had hoped. An appointment which he didn’t go into much detail about when he told you he was behind schedule for the evening. 

You don’t mind though, already putting the beautiful flowers he gave you into a pretty vase in the kitchen, and munching on the chocolate and wine he left out while you watch a cheesy romcom. It’s nearly 7:30pm when Choso comes to sit on the couch and melts into you, a slight whine as you take out his elastics and stroke his hair calmingly. 

This day was supposed to be spent spoiling and showing off his beautiful girlfriend– instead he had missed your 6pm dinner reservation leaving the large man sulking like a child. Loving the way you stroke his hair to calm his self-depreciative thoughts, Choso presses fervent kisses to the pulse point on your neck, addicted to hearing the beat of your blood flow. 

“Mmm, we don’t have to do anything Cho… we can just stay in and chill for the night.”

He groans slightly and moves his lips to work down to the collar of your now pajama top [aka his old band t shirt].

But the man is determined to make up for the lost time and within seconds he’s scooped you up and over his shoulder while making a beeline for the bedroom. A people-pleaser to his own demise, Choso refuses to let you feel anything but pleasure, especially today. 

New purple lingerie that adorns your body for the holiday has his heart and cock gushing as he admires the color of the fabric against your skin. He’s careful to strip you of it, his impatience at bay to preserve the garment to ensure you could keep wearing it for him in the future. 

It’s when Choso tugs off his hoodie and t shirt that you raise an eyebrow at what seems like plastic wrap covering his bicep– though he doesn’t let you stare too long. He pushes your back plush against the bed while he kneels on the floor and finds his second home between your thighs. Choso knows every detail of what you like when it comes to oral and ensures to rut the metallic ball of his tongue piercing against your clit, slip a third finger inside when your hips start twitching, and to overstimulate just enough that your brain goes a little fuzzy. 

Coming down from your orgasm, he doesn’t give you a chance to admire his body for too long– flipping you over into a doggy position and sinking each inch of his cock deep into your cunt as drool escapes your lips and stains the sheets beneath. Each thrust of his hips is hypnotic and despite the fact that you can nearly feel him in your lungs, Choso is a panting and moaning mess from behind you. 

“Ahhh… f-fuck baby… this pretty pussy’s gonna…gonna make me cum–”

The smack of your ass against his pelvis is drowned out by his whimpers as hot ropes of cum leak from his cockhead as it grinds against the entrance of your cervix. It’s unbelievably hot, and you can’t fight the whimpers when he slowly pulls out with an airy sigh.

Choso is almost quick enough to reposition to continue pleasuring you until you cum again, until you catch his wrist and tug his arm down. The ceran wrap that covers his arm seems to be for nothing until you catch a glimpse at the back of his bicep with a gasp.

“Ha… surprise?” He mumbles sheepishly as you blink at the ink of fresh tattoo adorning his already decorated body. 

It’s a simple lettering font of your name in your handwriting with a variety of small hearts and flower drawings surrounding it. 

“When did you…?” 

“I took the card you gave me for my birthday as the stencil and got it done today…” he stares at your face with a worried expression, scared that maybe he was moving too fast. “...do you like it?”

You’re completely speechless at the act and lightly release the grasp on his arm. “I love it Cho…”

Relief floods his veins before peppering your skin with gentle kisses and laying you back down to continue his adoration of your body so prettily splayed out for him. Lips trace down your collar bone and continue down further and further until he parts slightly at your navel. 

“Thank God… I was going to get our initials, but Yuji said I should wait a bit for that one..”

You tug on the hair that falls freely down and trace his jaw with a smile. “Mmm, I’d want to go with you when you get that done.”

Geto Suguru:

Valentine’s Day falling on a Friday this year meant you and your boyfriend were still required to go into work and come back home completely drained. While Suguru certainly had a flair for the dramatics, a habit considering his life long friendship with a certain white haired man, he also loved small moments of simple domesticity with you at his side.

The two of you already decided that you would celebrate the holiday on Saturday, so you both could properly sleep in and be energized enough to enjoy the activities planned. Despite that agreement, Suguru couldn’t help but do a few extra acts of love this Friday evening anyways– a soft spot in his heart reserved for you.

That has led to the current situation as you both sit in a drawn bath, with your favorite candles on the countertops with a fresh bottle of wine opened and pouring into two glasses. The moment is quiet and vulnerable, taking time to speak about your days while the other listens in content silence and simply enjoys the presence of this. 

Suguru works deft fingers to massage the tired muscles of your shoulders and works his way down your arms until he pulls your left hand from the water and runs a thumb over the knuckles. A large engagement ring sitting perfectly on your ring finger, a promise he had made months prior for a future he can’t wait to experience. 

The image of you, his fiance and soon to be wife, causes a stir in his core and pressing his lips along the flesh of your nape, a forming erection grinds into where your ass is seated so nicely in his lap. 

“Mm? Something making you feel a certain away, Sugu?”

He chuckles and kisses down to your shoulder, “You always do angel.”

Calloused hands trail your back and then reach to the edge of the bathtub for the small plastic remote of the jets; in a simple motion he clicks on the setting for a light pressure. Before you can turn in his lap, Suguru pivots in the water to tilt your cunt perfectly against the warm streaming water and kneads your plush tits as your head tilts back at the sensation. 

“Ahhh… s-shit… feels good– Sugu”

He continues kissing along the side of your neck and brings a large hand beneath the water to outline the lips of your pussy before slowly pushing a finger inside. The entire sensation has your back arching into his chest further as one hand pinches your nipple, another has fingers stuffed in your cunt, and the water jets serve a makeshift vibrator against your clit. 

Suguru fares not better from behind you as a full erection now presses into the small of your back while his grip on your breast tightens; before you can cum, he manhandles your body to the side of the tub and tugs you to stand on your knees just above the water level. Normally you would whine at the orgasm denial, but Suguru doesn’t have the patience to tease as he glides his cock up and down your folds once before slipping inside. 

No matter how many times you have sex, his size always leaves you breathless and your tightness always makes his hips stutter. Water sloshing out of the tub as your hands are placed on top of the wall and Suguru fucks you from behind, the glimmer of the pretty ring on your hand makes his resolve weak.

The two of you don’t stop until the water heater is empty and the only thing that drips from the faucet to refill the half empty tub is too cold for your liking. Despite that, the bathroom mirrors remain fogged as you two bend and fold into a variety of positions until you’re primarily dripping in his cum rather than sudsy bath water. 

And maybe it’s the possessive title of fiance that makes Suguru so riled up, but watching his seed drip from your cunt so wastefully has him scooping it from your thigh and pushing it back inside. You’ve already upgraded him from boyfriend to fiance; now he’s hoping you could promote him from husband to father in the future. 

Gojo Satoru:

The dinner Satoru reserved was at a new restaurant that neither of you had been to– but the photos online indicated it was definitely fancier than most places you eat at. While usually you would go to the mall with your friends to scour for a new dress, your boyfriend had gotten off work and insisted on taking you himself.

It’s his credit card anyways, so he might as well be the person to swipe it at the checkout. 

Dress shopping starts off tame; going through a variety of clothing racks, asking the sales assistance for sizes available, and letting your attentive man hold a mountain of fabric and hangers as he follows you to the fitting room. And to be fair, he was on his best behavior for the first few dresses.

He’d carefully inspect each article on your behalf. The back strapless one seemed to wrinkle too easily, the straps on the pale pink dress dug into your shoulders too much, and the frilly gold maxi dress was just a few inches too long for you.

Now after maybe 30 minutes of being respectful Satoru grew impatient and each dress you stepped out in was seemingly fine to wear to the date despite your claims to try on just a few more. It was a mixture of frustration and pride– Satoru had hit the jackpot when it came to lovers and his ego would rise every time other customers were checking you out but he couldn’t help the desire to just go home already. Because at the end of the day it didn’t matter what you chose, it would end up on the floor of your shared apartment anyways. 

“Satoru– you aren’t even looking anymore.” you complain before stepping back into the fitting room and sliding the curtain shut.

Ok, that was his last straw.

Not even bothering to check if any wandering eyes were watching, Satoru stands up and drops the mess of hangers and fabric onto his seat and enters your little stall. The whole action happens within a fraction of a second– one moment you’re adjusting the strap of a stain dress minidress and the next you’re being stripped down and onto the lap of your boyfriend.

“Not looking? Baby you know I can never take my eyes off you”

Hes sitting on the floor and kneading the flesh of your tits before spining you around to have your back against his chest and your front facing the mirror. 

“What are you–”

“Now it’s your turn to watch yourself.”

You’re convinced the entire store can hear the lewd sounds coming from behind the thin curtain of the stall, but Satoru behind you doesn’t seem to care at all. The squelch of your pussy around his cock is enough to make your cheeks flush, but the sight of his dick pistoning up into your cunt is the most erotic thing you’ve ever seen.

Forget porn, watching it happen live and searing into your memory is the only thing you’ll be using to get off from now on. Satoru fares no better above you; enjoying the image in the mirror as a sight he can never tire of. 

“God, you love this don’t you… nghh ahh… love seeing my cock fuck into you huh?”

No coherent words can form on your tongue as his tip kisses into your cervix with a mind-numbing force as his hips snap into you over and over again. Your head falls backward onto his shoulder in a haze, squeezing your eyes shut when a deft finger leaves your waist to rub mean circles into clit and push you to your orgasm.

Satoru knows that everyone in the fitting area has the best jerking material known to man now– the sight of you in slutty dresses and now the sound of you getting utterly fucked out beat any porno. He would usually be a little jealous of that thought, but watching the cream ring form around the base of his cock as he continues to fuck up into you makes him think a ring on your finger might be an ever better sight. 

Higuruma Hiromi:

Hiromi already told you about his work schedule adjustment this morning– being called into the firm to work overtime on another case that left him feeling drained beyond belief. You knew he didn’t want to go; in the morning you were the one who had to usher him from the bed and remind him he couldn’t afford to be late again, so you sent him off with a kiss and promised to see him later.

Now you didn’t exactly say when later ;)

That leaves you here, in front of the law firm in a long trench coat at 8pm as a steady rain pours down on the couples rushing to their evening dinner plans. The drowsy receptionist knows you already and offers a soft ‘Good evening, Mrs. Higuruma’ as you walk through the lobby with a gift bag in tow. 

You get off the elevator at his office floor as your heels click softly against the tiles until you reach his door– the rest of the office still has quite a few people working despite the holiday.

Hiromi murmurs something behind his door but doesn’t open it, only looking from his desk when you click the door shut and pur his name.

“Hm, dear? What are you doing at the firm?”

You place the pink bag on the desk and offer a cute smile in front of his desk while tired eyes open wide in shock at your arrival still.

“Your gift Hiromi~, open it up.”

Still confused, he sits up while you saunter around the desk and kneel before his knees and duck under his arms to sit with your face right in front of his pelvis.

“D-Dear?”

“–Open the gift honey.”

Hiromi’s Adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow as you palm him through his slacks before slipping his semi out from the fly and tugging the waistband of his briefs down. He exhales shakily as you work his cock up to a full erection and crumbles the tissue paper in his hand when he sees a skimpy lingerie set sitting neatly folded in the bag.

“Oh f-fuck..” 

You’re not sure if it’s a moan from the gift or from the way you lick along his frenulum and massage his balls lightly. 

“It’s the set I would’ve worn…”

And in that moment, you tug the strap of the trench coat and shuffle it off, revealing your bare body kneeling before him; Hiromi wonders what he must’ve done in his previous life to be married to such an amazing woman.

He drops the set back into the bag and guides you to your feet before spinning you around and placing your hands on the wooden desk and pushing your spine into a pretty arch; ass out. Hiromi knows this is not professional, but the fact it’s Friday, and Valentine’s Day, and you, make him throw out any rationality as he sinks his cock into your cunt.

The pace is brutal, leaving you digging your acrylic nails into the wooden furniture in an attempt to steady your balance from the way your husband fucks into you from behind. While moans escape your lips as his heavy balls smack into your clit with each thrust, Hiromi can’t help but feel slightly overwhelmed with emotions.

He’s beyond grateful for your ‘gift’ and stress relief, but another part of him is worried with slight envy at the thought that other men could’ve seen you so vulnerable. Wearing nothing under that coat?! What if there was a strong breeze? Or you tripped? Or the buckle keeping it shut came undone?

The glint of the golden ring on your hand brinds his attention to matching one he adorns– a memory of your vows and promises to forever. But other men might not respect that.

Sure in the eyes of the law Hiromi was all yours, but the world was crueler than that. And the way your cunt sucks his cock back inside, attempting to milk him dry, causes him to bend down with his chest to your back and slide his hands from your hips to right below your navel.

No, he needs much more than a ring; he needs you to carry his child to really solidify that you were all his. 

Ryomen Sukuna:

[jin and kaori had yuji as teenage pregnancy for this to make sense age wise -> yuji is like in middle school and y'all like 29-33]

‘Jin has used up the last of his owed favors’ is the only thought running through Sukuna’s mind as he listens the way Yuji begs you to let him invite his friends over. It’s not like Sukuna went out of his way to plan a super elaborate Valentine’s Day, but his plans for a casual dinner, walk in the park, and about 4 hours of fucking couldn’t happen if you were both stuck babysitting his stupid nephew. And where tf was Choso?! He couldn’t come back from college to watch his little brother?

Ok, Sukuna has a small soft spot for the kid, but when trying to lay pipe with his girlfriend, Yuji is nothing but a nuisance. 

“I guess that’s alright if they come over, right Sukuna?” You ask, while looking over at your sulking boyfriend who stands in the kitchen with firm scowl.

He rolls his eyes and mumbles a ‘whatever’, not bothering to smile when Yuji jumps up and down and runs to call Nobara and Megumi. You walk over and run a hand through Sukuna’s hair and giggle when he leans into the touch with a low hum similar to a moody house cat. 

“What are you laughing at, woman?”

“You”

“Tch.”

You know Sukuna acts all tough but loves the doting affection regardless, pulling you back in closer when your hand threatens to leave its spot scratching the hair at the back of his neck. 

The evening isn’t how you expected your Valentine’s Day to go, but it was fun nonetheless. You and Sukuna help Yuji make Valentine’s for his homeroom class with his friends as a sappy romcom plays in the background. The 5 of you order takeout, with Sukuna and yourself excusing yourselves when the kids move to play Super Mario party, surrounded by conversation hearts and chocolates. 

“Fucking finally” Sukuna grumbles as his lips latch onto yours and his kicks the door shut behind him. 

He wastes no time in stripping you down and pushing you to the edge of the guest bed before kneeling before your thighs and splaying you open. Chocolate and candy were nothing compared to the sugary taste of your cunt, and no matter how many times Sukuna complains he doesn’t have a sweet tooth– he always eats you out as if it were his favorite meal.

Long thick fingers know every spot that makes your hips twitch and his hot tongue ruts against your puffy clit just the way you like it. The way moans escape your lips are enough indication that you’re enjoying the moment, and Sukuna is too, but he can’t help but feel a little bad he couldn’t give you something more for the holiday. 

He wastes no time when your orgasm washes over you to push you further onto the bed and fold you into a mean mating press. No matter how many times you take him, the length and thickness of your boyfriend’s cock is enough to make you dig crescent shaped indentations on his shoulder blades. 

“God, feels like…haaa you wanna fucking ngh milk me dry”

The pubes at his base tickle your clit with enough pressure to make you moan his name with your head pushed back into the pillow; Sukuna has to bite down on the side of your neck to avoid his stupid nephew from hearing the way he was about to make him a cousin. 

You bring your hands to his hair and mewl as his tip grinds into your cervix with a mean pressure. “Ah m’sorry Sukuna– ahhh couldn’t g-give you a better Valentine’s Day..”

He assumes it’s the cock drunk brain of yours talking; Sukuna is certain there’s nothing else he would want to do for the day anyways. But reciprocating your wish for a better evening, he pushes the feeling away and tugs your hips up to angle just a bit deeper. 

Sure, he could’ve been out on a lovely date with you tonight while Jin or Choso watched the brat… but a better idea crosses his mind. Reciprocation; a taste of their own medicine.

“It’s fine, angel..” He rocks his hips against yours and sucks his thumb before bringing it to rub against your clit. “I’ll give you a niiiice load… n’you can give me a baby.”

Shoko Ieiri:

Ieiri is prepared for this holiday– nothing was getting in her way from delivering a memorable day to her girlfriend. She called off work 2 weeks in advance, booked a reservation for the restaurant in December, and even kept a wishlist of all the little items you would look at in stores but never buy. 

The perfume from Sephora that was a little too expensive? Purchased. The cute little pastries from the bakery you turned down because this was ‘the year you finally commit to your gym grind’? Yep, they are sitting on the kitchen table wrapped up with a bow. 

Ieiri made sure every ‘t’ was crossed and every ‘i’ was dotted. 

And you had planned a few things as well– a couple’s pottery class in the evening and a cute wine bar to go to after the dinner reservation she made. By the time the day wraps up, you plop onto your shared sofa with a tired sigh as your feet ache from the heels.

You’re certain you could fall asleep at this moment, but the sound of Ieiri opening the bedroom door and sauntering into the room pulls you from your drowsy state. Dressed down in purple lace lingerie, she gives you a smirk and drags her hands down the plush tops of her breasts before tracing down to the straps around her waist you didn’t notice before. A strap-on.

There’s no plastic dildo hooked to it yet, but her smirk is all you need to know that there will be one very soon. Ieiri doesn’t even have to call you over with her hand; your tired feet feel brand new as you hop up and tug her into the bedroom as laughs escape her lips from your eagerness.

And well, how could you not?!

She strips you from the dress, careful not to rip it since she knows it’s your favorite, and kisses along your neck before you push her back onto the plush comforter. Reaching around her soft skin, you unclasp the metal hooks of her bra and immediately lath your lips to a perky nipple.

The sound of your name escaping her mouth is your favorite song as you lick the perky bud before switching to the other breast to give it equal attention– best not to make it feel left out.

And once you’ve sucked enough hickies on her chest to your satisfaction, Ieiri guides you to your hands and knees while she stands to rummage in the nightstand for the familiar silicon dildo. 

It takes a few tries to clasp it firmly into place, and when it’s finally stable, you can’t help the long moan that escapes your lips as she slowly sinks in.

“F-Fuck… Ieiri–”

“–I know, I know baby… you can take it though.. Be a good girl, yea?”

She coos in your ear before kneeling upright and tugging your hips back to a steady ‘plap!’ plap!’ ‘plap!’ rhythm. Your cunt clenches around the mold as she reaches forward to give a small squeeze to your tits before grabbing the other toy she pulled from the drawer– a vibrator. 

And as soon as the vibration is pushed against your puffy clit, a string of moans rip from your throat as you arch your back to further the sensation against her. No matter how many times you and Ieiri fuck, she always ensures that your legs will be absolutely jelly the next day… that way she can nurse you back to health obviously. 

“G-gonna cum… ahhh please! Please let me…”

And like the amazing girlfriend she is, Ieiri doesn’t change anything. She keeps the vibrator against your clit, the tempo of her hips reamains the same, and even the angle of the dick into your cunt stays perfectly constant as you cum, hard. 

Those brief moments of afterglow are amazing but short lived, because you both knew that this evening wouldn’t end until maybe round 6? 7? Neither of you have work in the morning… so maybe it’ll be an even 8?

hehe i know im late but whoopsiessss

I've had this in progress for like 2 weeks and kept pushing it off but now its doneee

also i promise my chapters for the long fics are coming~~

[its so hard to write these bc i almost make them into their own one shots every time]

likes/comments/reblogs appreicaited

LUV U POOKIES

-oatmeal

[acid-ixx]

i feel like reader from again&again would end up being hypersexual, idk if anyone has mentioned it before but they’d up having a lot of trust issues and attachments issues.

— masterlist !

tw: sexual themes and talks of sexual assaults.

i was contemplating whether i should make them hypersexual or not!!! i'm speaking from my own personal experience that it's a very complicated feeling to portray. chasing for that momentary high, doing anything you can just to feel pleasure because you were always stripped from attention that you find it in other ways, the absolute disgust that comes after, the regret, yet the constant cycle of returning to that habit even after you promised to stop from one round, doing it over and over again even if at most times it feels like you're losing your enjoyment and doing it all out of the need for fulfilment; i can do that, but that will be bordering on dub-con and darker themes if i were to write it, which i'm not sure if some readers of mine will like, especially since conner is the love interest—

but truthfully, i think it would do well for a hurt/comfort prompt after they get together. you know, trying to push yourself too hard by trying to pleasure kon despite your inexperience, fearing that he'll leave if you don't do what he wants. the panic, the hesitance on even feeling his body because, truly, you've never held someone with different intentions, never been touched so intimately by others before yourself. and that kind of turns into an addiction, a need to do whatever it takes to keep his eyes on you even if it destroys you inside out.

yet your boyfriend is receptive, he notices how your lingering touches can sometimes feel cold yet done so through necessity, how you chase after your peak even if it brings more pained tears than pleasurable moans. how you beg for more yet shamefully hide yourself from a mirror right after. his confrontation after just a week, his soft voice promising that there's no need to rush it all out, how he doesn't see you as an object but his equal, his power, his everything. how there's no price to pay to obtain his love, your body an altar than an offering, how his was always yours to begin with.

and with how the family will react to this? honestly, the first person who would break at the moment he hears this information is dick grayson.

most portray him as a playboy, a puppet for most to sexualize. he takes advantage of that, turns it into his weapon, but deep within, he has his fair share of trauma being assaulted by not just one, but two (or more, depending on the comics) women. and with just how silenced and invalidated men are too when it comes to their trauma, it wouldn't be a surprise that, well, dick would be incredibly heartbroken realizing how his baby bird, the very same child he swore to protect, trudges the same path as him, carries the same burden on their back while pretending like everything's okay.

it destroys him, inside-out, how he's the oldest, the one supposed to guide the people around him, the one who buries all the pent-up anger, the turmoil at carrying the burden of all the terrible things that happened to him, turning it into motivation— yet ultimately failing to guide his very own sibling.

the one he introduced to the manor, the one he came to call his baby bird on the very same day.

i think about that a lot, a moment where he'll suddenly barge into your room, whether it would be before you'd be before you'd be kidnapped or not, and just... hugging you, burying his head on your shoulders while his hands just encapsulate your entire body. you don't know how or why he found you, don't know why he's shivering, why he's muttering sorry's and unbidden promises, desperate callings to your name like he just can't believe you're still alive, your shoulders damp with tears and dick just refusing to let go of you. i think about it a lot, how in the case of sexual trauma, you'd be dick's ultimate failure, a person he failed to protect from the very same thing that destroyed him. and yet he couldn't even bond it over with you, because you're so... so guarded and so broken that even if you and dick now share just one similarity, you still refuse his comfort, his promises that never again will you handle it alone.

it's not impossible that the reader would be hypersexual whilst still sporting insecurities. i have my own bodily issues too that i'm coping with; i typically emulate that onto the reader. so if anything from above fascinates my readers, i'm willing to write it out for future chapters because i love tackling complex topics, it helps me make my brain bigger teehee.

[rinokami]

I get what you're saying, and I mostly agree with it, but I don't think "hopeless" is quite the word for it, and is probably at least partially why Tolkien axed the Noldorian titles. As you mentioned, Tolkien had two different concepts of "hope": estel and amdir.

Amdir is practical hope. It's saying, "ok, we do this, that, and the other thing and we'll probably be ok." It's the strategizing, action-oriented, mindset that most modern folk would think of when they hear "hope". Boromir was very much a man of amdir. Amdir is why he was a good general, why he jumped to plow snow with nothing but his arms on Caradhras with Aragorn so they could all make it back down the mountain. Amdir is good, but it is also fallible.

Estel is... not that. Estel is what Tolkien called "high hope", the enduring hope that the world will turn out right in the end, regardless of what that means for you personally. Estel is saying "I will do what should be done, what must be done, even if it kills me." I guess the closest word would be "faith", but I hesitate to call it that, given the extremely religious connotations that word can have, and, as devout as Tolkien was, he didn't really use estel quite like that. Estel was not a thing that required belief in, or even knowledge of, Ilúvatar or anything like that.

Frodo and Sam are running on pure estel by the end of RotK. Well, everyone left of the broken Fellowship is by that point, tbh. So you could say that their hope for their own personal selves was gone out the window by that point but that's not quite the same thing as being hopeless.

Sam even has a moment after ditching his pots of his own estel and fallen amdir arguing with each other:

He could not sleep and he held a debate with himself. ‘Well, come now, we’ve done better than you hoped,’ he said sturdily. ‘Began well anyway. I reckon we crossed half the distance before we stopped. One more day will do it.’ And then he paused.

‘Don’t be a fool, Sam Gamgee,’ came an answer in his own voice. ‘He won’t go another day like that, if he moves at all. And you can’t go on much longer giving him all the water and most of the food.’

‘I can go on a good way though, and I will.’

‘Where to?’

‘To the Mountain, of course.’

‘But what then, Sam Gamgee, what then? When you get there, what are you going to do? He won’t be able to do anything for himself.’

To his dismay Sam realized that he had not got an answer to this. He had no clear idea at all. Frodo had not spoken much to him of his errand, and Sam only knew vaguely that the Ring had somehow to be put into the fire. ‘The Cracks of Doom,’ he muttered, the old name rising to his mind. ‘Well, if Master knows how to find them, I don’t.’

‘There you are!’ came the answer. ‘It’s all quite useless. He said so himself. You are the fool, going on hoping and toiling. You could have lain down and gone to sleep together days ago, if you hadn’t been so dogged. But you’ll die just the same, or worse. You might just as well lie down now and give it up. You’ll never get to the top anyway.’

‘I’ll get there, if I leave everything but my bones behind,’ said Sam. ‘And I’ll carry Mr. Frodo up myself, if it breaks my back and heart. So stop arguing!’

People often say LOTR is a story about hope. (I'm reminded of it because someone said it in the notes of my Faramir post.) And that's true, but it's not the whole picture: LOTR is in large part a story about having to go on in the absence of hope.

Frodo has lost hope, as well as the ability to access any positive emotion, by Return. He is already losing it in Towers: he keeps going through duty and determination and of course Sam's constant help.

For most of the story, Sam is fueled by hope, which is why it's such a huge moment when he finally lets go of the hope of surviving and returning home, and focuses on making it to the Mountain. To speed their way and lighten the load, he throws his beloved pots and pans into a pit, accepting that he will never cook, or eat, again.

When Eowyn kills the Witch King, she's beyond hope and seeking for a glorious death in battle. It's possible that in addition to her love and loyalty for Théoden, she's strengthened by her hopelessness, the fear of the Nazgúl cannot touch someone who's already past despair.

Faramir is his father's son, he doesn't have any more hope of Gondor's victory or survival than Denethor does, he says as much to Frodo. What hope have we? It is long since we had any hope. ... We are a failing people, a springless autumn. He knows he's fighting a losing war and it's killing him. When he rejects the ring, he doesn't do it in the hope that his people can survive without it, he has good reason to believe they cannot. He acts correctly in the absence of hope.

Of course LOTR has a (mostly) happy ending, all the unlikely hopes come true, the characters who have lost hope gain what they didn't even hope for, and everyone is rewarded for their bravery and goodness, so on some level the message is that hope was justified. But the book never chastises characters who lost hope, it was completely reasonable of them to do so. Despair pushed Théoden and Denethor into inaction, pushed Saruman into collaboration, but the characters who despaired and held up under the weight of despair are Tolkien's real heroes.

(In an early draft of Return, Frodo and Sam receive honorary titles in Noldorin: Endurance beyond Hope and Hope Unquenchable, respectively. Then he cut it, probably because it was stating the themes of the entire book way too obviously, because this is what Tolkien cared about, really: enduring beyond hope. Without hope.)

Also, people who know more than me about the concept of estel, feel free to @ me.

[onceinablueberrymoon]

stick to the plan | husband!salesman x mom!reader

scenario: gi-hun and the loan shark group have been searching for the salesman for almost two years now. you and your son had occasionally come to help them in their search, but to no avail. one day, your husband gets an order to get rid of gi-hun because of his incessant probing. you have no choice but to obey, even against your will. setting: during the events of season 2, episode 1! ; set one year after the name game; please read part 1, part 2, part 3, and part 4 first! (i have to make a masterlist lol) warnings: fem!reader; mom!reader; dad!salesman; deception; lots of guilt; is this angst? it’s definitely guilt tho; recruiter is called salesman; no use of y/n; second person POV word count: 3.9k notes: thank you all for waiting! this took me much longer than expected, but it’s definitely my longest chapter for this series so far! as this takes place almost entirely within season 2, episode 1, i pulled quite a bit of dialogue from the show. however, this is all in second person POV, so it’s only what reader sees. i really enjoyed writing this part, and i sincerely hope you enjoy reading it! also, there will be two endings (and possibly a third) for this series. one which remains canon, and the other which… doesn’t, lol. i hope to release them at the same time, so please stay tuned! ik i don't post gifs usually but doesn't he look so soft in this gif i just had to use it (˃̣̣̥ᯅ˂̣̣̥) borders by @enchanthings-a and the gif is from @lenoirexv! tags: @muchwita; @beebeechaos; @preppyfella; @buckitostan

One year later.

“All packed?”

You asked your husband as you zipped up your purse. 

“Almost.” He called from across the bedroom. He was in front of his safe, grabbing piles of ddakji tiles and money and carefully placing them in a suitcase. The last few tiles and stacks of money went into his briefcase. 

Once you were finished organizing your belongings, you walked over to the crib in the corner of the room. Min-seok looked up at you, a shy smile on his face. You lifted him up, mentally checking off your list: he had already been fed, changed, and dressed. Looking around the bedroom, you saw all the packed suitcases and bags scattered on the floor and on the bed. Everything was ready.

A sigh escaped your lips. You had been planning this day for a while now. 

According to your husband, the Frontman had been somewhat concerned with Gi-hun’s persistent actions. As recruitment for the Games was almost finished, he had ordered your husband to eliminate Gi-hun. What “eliminate” meant, you weren’t exactly sure, but you knew it couldn’t be good. While you were close to Gi-hun, you knew this friendship couldn’t last forever, especially since it was built on lies. You were loyal to your job, your husband, and now your son too. You couldn’t throw that away for a friendship. Even so, the gnawing feeling of guilt clawed at your insides.

You kissed the top of your son’s head before tucking him in his stroller. He let out a small giggle. 

“Mini, have fun with your dad today, alright?” You said sweetly. 

Walking over to your husband, you patted him lightly on the chest. 

“Be safe. If you put my baby in danger, I’ll kill you.” You narrowed your eyes and your husband put his hands up in surrender. “I believe you.”

Your husband wrapped his arms around you before pecking you on the lips. 

“I’ll start loading the bags.” He turned to pick up his briefcase.

“Wait,” you stopped him. “You’re sure there’ll be someone that can take us to the island?” 

Your husband gave you a soft smile, placing the briefcase down before taking your hands in his. “We’ve been over this. Captain Park will meet us at the pier to escort us to the island.” He played with the wedding ring on your finger. “We’ll only be there for a short while. Just until the Frontman deems it safe to return.”  

You bit your lip. Even though you reviewed the plan dozens of times before, you couldn’t shake your anxiety.

“What if…” You paused, your voice choking suddenly. “What if something goes wrong? What if something happens to you? Or me? Or-” Your husband grabbed the sides of your arms roughly, almost making your body shake. 

“Nothing will go wrong.” His tone was harsh. “I won’t allow it.” He let go of you and rubbed his hands up and down your arms as if to apologize for hurting you.

He sighed and ran his hand through his neatly styled hair. “Everything will go according to plan. Play your role correctly and everything will return to normal soon.” He picked up his briefcase and one of the suitcases and left the bedroom.

You stood there in silence, your mind racing. You took a few deep breaths to steady yourself. 

‘This will all be over soon,’ you thought. ‘Everything will return to normal soon...’

The problem: you didn’t even know what ‘normal’ looked like anymore.

"Jonggak. Jonggak Station."

The voiceover announced the name of the subway station. Checking your phone, you realized this was your stop.

You stepped off the train onto the platform, where you spotted two familiar figures.

“Hey!” You called, waving to Mr. Kim and Woo-seok who were seated on a bench. 

Upon seeing you, they waved back. As you approached them, you noticed them eating sandwiches and kimbap. You sat down next to Woo-seok and he held a sandwich out for you to take.

“Thank you, I’m starving,” you said as you unwrapped the packaging.

“No Min-seok?” Woo-seok asked, looking for any sign of your son who sometimes accompanied you. 

“His father’s taking care of him today,” you replied with a smile.

Gi-hun and the others had fallen in love with your little boy from the moment they met him. While your husband was skeptical of you introducing your son to literal loan sharks, you had assured him that everything would be fine. You and Min-seok had quickly befriended Mr. Kim after visiting Gi-hun at his hotel the day he happened to be visiting. Everyone was smitten once they saw your son, and Mr. Kim and Woo-seok were no exception. Min-seok was a sweetheart who loved to be held by everyone, and his laughter was infectious. 

You volunteered to help in the search for the salesman, which Gi-hun initially declined for your safety. But as the search continued for months with no progress, Gi-hun suggested you go with Mr. Kim and Woo-seok who could protect you if things went awry.

“Anything exciting today?” You asked as you dug into your sandwich. Mr. Kim and Woo-seok shook their heads.

“I know Mr. Seong is your friend,” Woo-seok said, “But how much of his story do you actually believe?” He turned to Mr. Kim. “We’ve been searching every subway station in the city all summer, but no one’s ever seen the guy.”

Mr. Kim nodded his head. “Seong Gi-hun may be crazy, but he wouldn’t waste billions on looking for someone who doesn’t exist. He’s onto something.”

Woo-seok ran his hand over his face. “Boss, we’ve been searching these stations for the past two years. Not days, years! Two whole years.” He laughed, “My wife says I should find that salesman, go play those games myself, and win 45.6 billion won. If someone were playing ddakji down here, we would’ve found hi-”

Smack.

All three of you turned to look across the platform.

Stunned, the two men stood up in confusion. There the salesman was, playing ddakji against a man wearing a bucket hat. Next to them, away from the playing area, was Min-seok’s stroller. Once the salesman slapped the other man, Mr. Kim and Woo-seok looked at each other, eyes wide. All you could do was watch the spectacle as you ate your sandwich quietly. The man with the bucket hat won two rounds in a row. Before he forgot, Mr. Kim pulled out his phone to call Gi-hun.

“We’ve found the guy. It’s him,” Mr. Kim spoke. You couldn’t hear what Gi-hun said, but you were sure he was shocked too.

“The ddakji, slapping, and money. Just like you said.” You saw the salesman give the man with the bucket hat a business card. “He’s handing over the card now.”

A beat, then Mr. Kim said, “We’re at Jonggak Station.” He paused. “By the way, you never said the guy had a kid?”

You could faintly hear Gi-hun’s sound of confusion from your spot on the bench.

“He has a stroller with him. I’m not su- He’s leaving. Please hurry.” Mr. Kim hung up and gestured for you and Woo-seok to follow him. 

Even though the salesman took the elevator because of the stroller, he was still faster than you. You followed him out of the subway station and to a couple stores before finally arriving at Tapgol Park.

‘Ah,’ you thought. ‘One of his favourites.’

It was no surprise to you that your husband needed to release some pent-up stress from time-to-time. He liked to go to parks frequented by the homeless and play a game of bread or lottery. On the rare occasion that the majority of the people chose the buns, he would be satisfied, telling you that maybe there was some hope left in the world after all.

As the salesman started his rounds, you, Mr. Kim, and Woo-seok settled on a bench near the main gazebo, hiding your faces behind pages of a random newspaper you found. You laughed in your mind. Mr. Kim and Woo-seok were horrible stalkers. Even if you weren’t there, there’s no way your husband wouldn’t notice them. They stuck out like a sore thumb.

You noticed that some people were attracted to the stroller the salesman was pushing, peering into the bassinet to have a look at the baby. You supposed it made your husband seem more trustworthy. He had his usual smiling expression on his face. He moved from one person to the next, offering them a bun or a lottery scratcher.

“What do you think he’s doing?” Mr. Kim asked. “Maybe he’s a good guy.” Woo-seok said, confused. 

You all continued to watch the salesman as he went around and offered the same options to all the homeless people in the park. Once he had completed his rounds, he went to the centre of the park in front of the gazebo and placed his bags down.

“How come he’s not giving us one?” Mr. Kim looked slightly offended. 

‘Maybe cause you look so suspicious,’ you thought, but said nothing.

Everyone turned to look at the salesman as he dumped both bags of buns onto the ground. 

‘Here we go,’ you thought, bracing for people’s reactions.

Just as one man was about to pick up a bun, the salesman stepped on it, digging his heel in to squish the bread. Everyone’s faces dropped, including Mr. Kim and Woo-seok’s. Then, he started jumping and stomping on all the buns. You had to stifle your laughter — sometimes your husband was just so funny! Everyone was too stunned to move. Mr. Kim whipped out his phone to record the incident, probably to show Gi-hun later. The salesman truly looked like a madman, slipping and sliding over the crushed packages of bread before kicking them. After he had finished his tantrum, he straightened his jacket and ran his hands over his face, before finally tucking his tie into his jacket like nothing had happened.

Everyone was still reeling from what they had just witnessed when a whine emerged from the stroller next to the salesman. Your heart sank. Min-seok started fussing, his whines quickly becoming cries. You tried to mask the pained look on your face as a pang of guilt hit you for not being able to soothe your baby. 

The salesman picked Min-seok up from the bassinet and started rocking him gently, much to the shock of everyone watching. With the exception of your son’s crying, the park was silent. You turned to look at Mr. Kim and Woo-seok who looked utterly dumbfounded at what they were witnessing. Thankfully, you were seated far away enough that they couldn’t tell that the baby was your son. 

After being comforted by his father, Min-seok’s cries quieted down and the salesman placed him back in his stroller. Wearing a polite smile on his face, the salesman picked up his briefcase and pushed the stroller out of the park. Mr. Kim and Woo-seok broke out of their trance and scrambled to follow him, with you not far behind. 

Ahead of you, the salesman hailed a taxi. Mr. Kim and Woo-seok hid behind one of the pillars of the park entrance, watching him as he carefully detached Min-seok’s bassinet from the stroller before loading the rest of the stroller in the trunk. 

As the taxi drove off, Woo-seok hurriedly ran out to the street to hail your own taxi. Jumping into the car, he gestured for the driver to follow the taxi the salesman took, even offering to pay him double. You sped away, the car weaving in and out of traffic.

Mr. Kim took out his phone to call Gi-hun.

“Where are you? Are you coming?” He asked once Gi-hun picked up. “This guy’s a total nutcase! He’s in a cab now, we’re following him. Hurry!” He hung up. 

“Is he on his way?” You asked Mr. Kim. He nodded, “I’m not sure where he is, but he should catch up soon.”

After driving for some time, the car turned onto a road in an industrial area. Woo-seok noticed that the salesman was getting out of his taxi, the driver helping him unload the stroller from the trunk.

“I’ll send Seong the address,” Mr. Kim told you as he keyed in the location. “Please drop us off here,” Woo-seok instructed your taxi driver. He took some money out of his wallet and handed it to the driver. You all jumped out of the taxi, moving to hide around the corner of the alleyway the salesman had gone down.

“Where is Mr. Seong?” Woo-seok whispered. “He’ll be here in 10 minutes,” Mr. Kim replied. You all watched the salesman walk down the alley at a leisurely pace. He didn’t seem to notice that he was being trailed. 

Mr. Kim seemed impatient. “We might lose him if we wait. Let’s just get him ourselves.” Woo-seok became nervous. Mr. Kim scoffed, “Are you scared? It’s three against one.” 

You bit your lip. “Shouldn’t we wait for Gi-hun? He could be dangerous.” You suggested, fully knowing they wouldn’t be able to wait that long.

Woo-seok didn’t seem entirely convinced. “It’s just… Something seems off with that guy…” 

Mr. Kim turned to face Woo-seok. “But what if we lose him? What if Seong doesn’t give us the money? It’s a billion won!” Mr. Kim sighed, “Don’t you trust me? I officiated your wedding! Besides, he’s got a baby, he won’t be able to take us all.”

Woo-seok nodded in agreement. You looked unsure as the two men prepared to chase after the salesman, who had just turned a corner.

“Come on, let’s go,” Mr. Kim gestured to you both to follow. You trailed behind the two men as they scampered down the alleyway. 

“Gi-hun told us to wait here!” You whisper-yelled, but the two were long gone. They turned the corner, and you heard them yelling, “Hey, you! Stop!”

Just as you turned the corner, you heard thumps and saw Mr. Kim get launched into a nearby pile of trash. Woo-seok went to help him but was clearly at a disadvantage as he struggled to pull out his pocket knife to defend himself. The salesman entered your view, easily disarming him before using his briefcase to knock both men out.

Once you were sure both men were unconscious, you stepped towards your husband, slowly clapping your hands in applause. He turned in your direction, a smirk forming on his lips.

“I told them to wait for Gi-hun, but they wouldn’t listen.” You shook your head, looking down at the unconscious men. “We can’t just leave them here…” You sighed, then turning to your husband, you raised your eyebrows. “I admit I thought Min-seok would slow you down, but clearly I was mistaken.”

Your husband rested his hands on your hips, pulling you in for a deep kiss. After breaking away, you walked over to the stroller to see your son fast asleep, completely unaware of the commotion that just took place.

Turning back to your husband, you saw him lift Mr. Kim’s body from the pile of trash. He gestured for you to enter the rundown building in front of you. You picked up his briefcase and started pushing the stroller towards the entrance. 

“We should get moving,” you said. “Gi-hun’s on his way.”

A cry shook you from your light snooze. 

You stood up from the armchair you were resting in to soothe your son. Picking him up from the stroller’s bassinet, you rocked him gently, but he continued to whine. 

“What’s wrong? Are you hungry?” You tried to nurse him but he refused to latch. Sighing, you realized that he probably just wanted his father. Ironically, the man who frightened most people was the most comforting person to your son. 

You left your room and started making your way down to the other end of the hallway where your husband and the two men were. 

Once outside the room, you heard muffled gasps and screams from behind the door. Mr. Kim and Woo-seok must have finally regained consciousness. 

Pressing Min-seok closer to your chest in an attempt to block out the sounds, you took a deep breath and slowly opened the door. There the two men were, bound and tied to two chairs facing each other. They had even been gagged with bone-shaped gags. Your husband and the two men turned to face you at the doorway. Mr. Kim and Woo-seok’s eyes widened in shock at seeing you, while your husband seemed puzzled, his eyes softening upon seeing his son.

“Mini needed his dad.” You passed the fussy baby to his father. You avoided eye contact with Mr. Kim and Woo-seok, ignoring their muffled complaints. Looking down at the table in front of you, you saw a revolver and 5 bullets lined in a row. Your breath hitched, your mind suddenly dizzy. It was only then that you realized what game was about to begin. A game that would surely result in death. 

“Min-seok-ah, what’s wrong?” Your husband brought his son up to stare into his eyes, a playful expression on his face. “Did you miss me? Did you miss appa?”

The baby erupted into a fit of giggles. For a split second, you could see a crack in your husband’s façade — a trace of the gentle, loving smile that was only reserved for you and your son.

Even though you knew that Mr. Kim and Woo-seok couldn’t escape their bounds, you suddenly became nervous. They now knew your husband’s weakness: his son. Although there was a slim chance they would leave this room alive, you didn’t want to take any chances.

“I’ll take him back now, he needs to eat.” You opened your arms to receive your son. Before passing him back, your husband kissed the top of your son’s head. He picked up the revolver from the table. Your heart dropped. Soon, Mr. Kim and Woo-seok would be dead. 

“Be gentle with them,” you whispered to your husband. “They’ve been good to me and Min-seok.” You kissed his cheek, knowing your words wouldn’t make a difference.

As you turned to leave, your husband sent a small wave towards your son, his smiling expression betraying the act he was about to commit. You closed the door and retreated to your room. 

You sat back on the armchair and unfastened the buttons of your shirt in preparation to nurse your son. Distantly, you heard classical music and grimaced. Your husband loved to put on a show.

As you fed Min-seok, you gazed down at him lovingly. His eyes were closed as he suckled, a peaceful look on his face. For a moment, all felt right in the world.

Bang!

You tensed at the sound of a gunshot, your grip on Min-seok tightening slightly. Even though the men were at the other end of the hallway, the muffled noise was loud enough to make you flinch. 

Unsurprisingly, Min-seok unlatched himself from your breast and started crying. You let out a heavy sigh, lifting him up to soothe him and rub soft circles on his back. You wished things didn’t have to be this way.

After Min-seok had settled down, you buttoned your shirt up and began organizing your things to leave for Gi-hun’s motel.

The door of the room opened and your husband entered, specks of blood staining his cheek and the collar of his white shirt.

“Ready?” He asked nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just killed a man.

You nodded, holding Min-seok in one arm and your purse in the other. Your husband helped you pack the stroller and Min-seok’s bag into the car. While your husband went back into the building, you settled Min-seok into his car seat and got in the driver’s seat. To your surprise, your husband returned with a blindfolded and bound Woo-seok, who looked as if he was unconscious. Your husband threw him in the trunk before getting in the back seat with Min-seok to hide. If you somehow passed Gi-hun on the road, he would be looking for your husband, not you.

“Did you get any new information?” You asked as you started the car, hands clutching the steering wheel. 

“We knew most of it already,” your husband replied, “It was quite the exciting game, however. Almost as exciting as the games we play at home.” You groaned. Of course, nothing got him going like the fear of others.

Once you arrived at the motel, you noticed it was starting to rain. You and your husband quickly unloaded Min-seok and Woo-seok from the car. Your husband broke the shabby lock and you all shuffled into the hotel through the back exit. 

Your husband dropped Woo-seok off in a random room while you and Min-seok settled into a room near the back exit.

It was a drafty old motel, with broken furniture and faded wallpaper. You found a table that seemed sturdy enough and placed the bassinet on it. Min-seok stared at you with his big, round eyes that reminded you so much of your husband. At this point, he was truly what kept you going. You lifted him up and began rocking him against your chest. 

“We’re almost done here.” You said more to yourself than to the baby. “Then, we can go somewhere safe and relax.”

Your husband soon entered the room and went to wrap his arms around you. You buried your face in his chest, careful not to crush Min-seok. He rested his head on top of yours.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” you whispered, “I don’t think I can face Gi-hun. Now that Mr. Kim is dead, I...” You trailed off. 

Your husband lifted your chin to make you look into his eyes, which showed no trace of fear or remorse. “It had to be done,” he stated plainly. “Unfortunate, yes, but we have to follow the plan. I will deal with 456.”

Tears welled in your eyes, your breathing becoming uneven. “But that game…” Your voice shook. “P-please give him a fair chance. I can’t lose you, but at the same time…” You paused, taking a breath. “…He’s a good man. They all were.” Your eyes fell to rest on your son. “They treated us well.”

Your husband tutted, bringing his lips to graze your ear. “I thought you said you were cut out for this?” You stayed silent, unable to speak. 

Noticing your apprehension, he whispered, “No matter what happens, know that I love you.” You looked back up at his face, the specks of blood adding to your feelings of uneasiness. 

For the first time in years, you were afraid. Afraid for your husband, your future, and yes, somehow even for Gi-hun. 

Letting out a shaky sigh, you swallowed the lump in your throat. You had to trust in your husband’s confidence. He believed in you, so you should believe in him. If Gi-hun had to die, so be it.

“Go get ready. Gi-hun should be here soon,” you said, turning to fish something out of your purse. You handed your husband a yakult drink. 

“You haven’t had much today, right? Drink this before he gets here.” He nodded.

He took your son from you and whispered a few words to him before kissing the top of his head. After handing Min-seok back to you, he pulled you in for a kiss. Not as intense as they usually were, but one that reminded you of the man you fell in love with. 

He turned to leave, shooting you a soft smile before clicking the door shut. You let out a sigh before returning your attention to your son.

It was only a matter of time before Gi-hun arrived, and your lie would finally be revealed.

[savanir]

The cure to vampirism is to never get turned at all

Dick is not ashamed to admit he's in trouble. 

He's surrounded on all sides by vampires (because that's a thing now), he's put in this situation by his sister which is just great. Some ancient vampire lady named Pandora says she needs him to defeat the Queen of Blood named Mary and he's pretty sure that involves him being turned into a vampire as well, which he doesn't want. 

He's good but even he can tell his odds are pretty shit. There is no backup coming and even if he could call them they would never arrive on time. 

And of course he's in his civvies and doesn't have any of his gear. Just fantastic. 

But if he goes down he'll go down fighting.

"DANIEL!!"

everything screeches to a halt as the furious booming male voice echoes through the room. 

A large ornate wooden double door in the back slams open and a young man rushes through slamming them closed behind him.

Intricate red and green flashes of energy cover the doors and then the young man turns to the crowd in the fancy crypt.

"Our young gifted prince? There is no need for you to attend this meeting, But if there is a way we may assis-?" The question hovers in the air, choked off as the young man runs forward and with hands shimmering in eerie venomous green and deep blood red energy he tears through the random vampire's throat, startling all the others. 

"I'm putting an end to this madness, here and now" He drops the gradually disintegrating corpse on the ground. 

"Young prince!?" Exclaims lady Pandora.

For Dick things become a blur after that. Screaming and screeching and inhuman growling. The young man easily tears through them all with his powers. It seems some form of backup did arrive, but if this is a blessing or a curse remains to be seen.

Dick doesn't understand though, he seems to be one of them so why...?

One second they are all still fighting then the next the old vampire lady is lying dead on the ground, gradually turning into dust. The vampires who remain all stare at the young man in shock. “he… he killed Pandora, our oldest. The strongest of us” 

None of them seem to know what to do now. There are a lot of dead vampires all around, in Dick’s humble opinion this meeting could not have gone worse for the acolytes of shadow. He’s not feeling too upset about that though considering what they wanted from him. Still, the fact that they aren’t outright trying to kill this young prince in retaliation… he must be someone special, that alone is more than enough for Dick to keep his guard up around him.

Then the young man darts forward and grabs Dick's wrist, "we have to leave, the seal I put on the door is about to break. I won't be able to protect you from him"

"Who?" Dick can’t help but ask as they both start running for the exit. The young man quickly dragging him up the stairs. For a split second does Dick think about Melinda, he’s not entirely sure if she was among the ones killed or not. She was the one who tricked him into that mess. 

Well, she absolutely knew the consequences, she told them about him being Nightwing, if whatever is left down there decides to punish her for this fiasco that’s probably what she deserves.

"I'll explain everything later, I promise, but we need to go now!"

The furious noises behind them grow steadily in volume. Danny pushes Dick forward as he slams the red fake fridge door closed behind them and another flash or red and green covers that as well, another seal of sorts most likely. The one other person in the kitchen startles as the two of them run past him.

"Who are you?"

"Call me Danny, now this way, quick!" the young prince, Danny apparently, faults over the Waffle House front desk Dick not hesitating to do the same.

"DANIEL HOW DARE YOU!" comes faintly from behind them as Danny slams the fake establishments front doors open and pulls Dick out of there.

"Oh he's next level mad" mutters Danny as they are running again. Meanwhile Dick is just very glad to be breathing in the fresh cold night air of Bludhaven. 

However, his legs are having trouble keeping up with the pace, he has taken some serious hits and those things definitely don't pull any punches. 

He can’t help the faint pained groan and the speed with which the other man snaps his attention back on him almost makes him flinch. 

"Do you need a hand?"

"I'm fine"

"Here let me-" 

Next thing Dick knows he's being carried, if he wasn't friends with so many supers and speedsters he'd probably be flailing. Instead he's just kinda used to it and lets it happen even if it’s a bit awkward what with Danny being a bit shorter than him.

He's glad when they get to a safehouse and Danny puts him on the couch. He then goes to fetch Dick the first aid kit. 

"Who were we running from?"

"Old as balls vampire lord named Vladimir Masters, he’s in cahoots with the acolytes of shadow. And I guess he’s now fully in charge seeing Pandora just had her final death."

Dick pauses and just looks at him. 

"Yes he's really named that" Danny looks rather tired.

"And I'm guessing he's the sort who is going to be a massive headache"

"I mean they had this whole plan of world domination, you were a key player in that plan which is now completely ruined by the way. I was part of it too but I really don't want anything to do with any of that so... here we are"

"Here we are"

It's only when Dick is fully bandaged that Danny flops down in the nearest arm chair and drops his head in his hands and takes a deep shuddering breath. Perhaps all the murder is catching up to him? 

"Are you okay?"

"Don't mind me, I'm just... thirsty... I'll be fine" 

"Ah yes of course, vampire."

"I'm unfortunately a vampire yeah but don’t get it twisted, I'm absolutely not one of them" Danny looks up and sneers, Dick can now clearly see the fangs. “Seeing humans as cattle… the absolute moronic-” Danny trails off in furious muttering. “living in a world with demons and angels and aliens and whatever else but no we’re the ones who deserve special treatment.”

Dick makes a choice and then gets up, Danny watching him go and curiously listening to him opening and closing something in a different room before coming back and holding out a blood bag with a bit of IV tube hanging out of it. 

"Here you go."

“Oh! thank you,” Danny gladly takes the bag, "You just have bags of blood in your house?"  

"You never know when you need an emergency blood transfusion. Especially considering my nightly activities." … you know that sounds kinda vampiric in it’s own way doesn’t it?

Danny snorts and starts drinking. It kind of looks like a huge capri-sun that way. It's sort of adorable. 

If only it wasn't a massive plastic bag of Dick's own blood but whatever. 

They both fall quiet as Danny focuses on his drink and Dick takes a moment to think about the absolute mess he just went through.

“Someone called you gifted… what did they mean by that?”

“This mostly,” Danny holds out his hand and shows Dick the strange glowing mixture of red and green energy he saw down in the crypt. “I am a huge anomaly because I became a vampire while I was half alive and half dead. What that means for the most part is enhanced powers, I am even harder to kill than a regular vampire and you cannot fix my vampirism with one of those disgusting smelling pits of… what was it called? Lar- Lazard?” “Lazarus,”

"Yes that! Anyway I am like.. the backup to their world domination plan, initially they just wanted me to be their weapon but I have morals, pesky things, super annoying according to them. Which is why they decided to ‘recruit’ you. But I managed to screw that up too.” Danny looks very satisfied with himself about that. 

“Thanks for that” Dick says genuinely earning him a cheeky sharp fanged grin from Danny. Though he wished it had not involved such a massive carnage, he’s very glad he’s not a vampire right now. Beggars can’t be choosers he guesses.

“It would probably be best to get the League involved, root them all out. Vlad is definitely going to make more drastic moves now that things have turned out this way.”

Dick ponders to himself, “Yeah… let’s be Helsing about it,” He already got a Vampire on his side too.

Danny dejectedly looks down at his empty blood bag, “... can I have another?” He asks carefully.

“Sure!” responds Dick with a smile that finally manages to ease the tension out of Danny’s shoulders.

[dollyyun]

REMINDER ✧ L.HS (FT. 02Z) [ TEASER ]

SYNOPSIS ✧ wherein your boyfriend, who has displayed possessive tendencies ever since some of his teammates had shown perverse interest in you, surprisingly allows them to have a taste of you and some fun with you, but not forgetting to remind them that at the end of the day, he’s the only one who can truly satisfy your needs and that you’re his.

PAIRINGS ✧ idol bf!heeseung x fem reader x idol!02z GENRE ✧ idol au, dynamic between characters, reverse harem element, fluffs, soft love, jealous-possessive heeseung, loverboy heeseung, (possibly)loverboys!02z, little plot WARNINGS ✧ needy and whiney reader, fivesome, unprotected sex (no!), dom!enha, mild bondage (light restraint), brief voyeurism, name calling, hair pulling, making out, degradation, manhandling, fingering, spitting, clit stimulations, cum eating, choking, spanking, creampies, overstimulations, multiple orgasms, gangbang, more to be added... TEASER WORDCOUNT ✧ 2.9K CURRENT WORDCOUNT ✧ 11K (est 30k)

PREV PART | SERIES MASTERLIST

The first time they met you when Heeseung officially introduced you to the whole team as his girlfriend, they were enthralled by your pristine-like beauty, even more so when they observed how you carried yourself in a refined manner. Initially, you were evidently shy to be in their presence during the first few hangouts, a natural reaction that was expected, considering that they’re superstars. It didn’t take too long for you to warm up to the maknae line, bonding with them as though they had been your long-lost best friends, but you’re reserved and formal around 02z despite being the same age as them.

The 02z did not take your indifference too personally, especially since they were more than aware of how unapproachable they looked, which made sense why you preferred the maknaes’ company than theirs, but they couldn’t ignore the disappointment that twinged in their chest whenever they watched you in a carefree element around the maknae line.

Was the disappointment derived from their platonic yearning in being your friend? Or was it derived from the attraction that took root within them when they first saw you?

They genuinely have no idea, but after the video call incident, when they unintentionally heard such sensual yet explicit sounds emitted from you, their attraction towards you became protrusive, and somehow, without confiding in each other, they shared the same goal that involved making you notice them.

But it didn’t seem to be working effectively when you remained awkward around them even after they made efforts to take the initiative to get close to you the way the maknae line did; well, at least two of them have been.

Sunghoon still has trouble opening up to you despite his attraction towards you, his aloof demeanour intimidating you every so often. It is more than evident in the way you tend to avoid meeting his icy gaze and how you would not-so-discreetly recoil whenever he is in your vicinity. He admits that he intentionally appears unwelcoming to you as he intended to steer clear of you since you have become Heeseung’s beloved, but he didn’t intend to get to a point where you completely avoid him like the plague. 

Jay is more than aware of how he intimidates you in the way he’s overbearing whenever he grasps the opportunity to interact with you, especially how he teases you in a way that borders on mean, which makes sense why you tend to ignore him or the way you look flustered, but in full honesty, he enjoys every little detail in your reaction — how your nose scrunches up adorably, your lips jutting into a small pout, your coloured irises burning with a familiar fiery — just how your sulky temperament easily entertains him.

Unlike the two Parks, who still master some form of restraint, Jake goes all out, unconcealing his flirtatious nature whenever he’s around you, even when Heeseung is next to you. Just like Jay, Jake enjoys the reaction he elicits out of you, how his charms often affect you even if you appear collected, but other times, he’s friendly with you, engaging you in small conversations that you keenly reciprocate, because no matter how attractive you are, he genuinely enjoys talking to you. Maybe it sounds stupid, but he feels as though he has met his twin flame. He can’t deny that despite the attraction, he has a genuine interest in being your friend.

Right, friend. How could they ever cross the boundary when you are clearly taken by Heeseung? The oldest member and their dependable Hyung, whom they grew up with for years. How could they ever show any form of disrespect towards your relationship with him? Especially when your relationship with him is far more stable than their love lives.

In spite of the persisting yet unspoken tension between them and the oldest, they genuinely respect him and his relationship with you, and how truly admirable his devotion and loyalty to you are, essentially and unknowingly setting a good example for them. Even a blind person could see how much Heeseung is irrevocably in love with you. 

Maybe it’s the void of loneliness within them that spurred them to be attracted to you, the idea of you, the idea of love despite their notion of love differing from each other’s, but the attraction towards you is unabating, and even till now, all they desire is you despite how unattainable you are.

Which is probably the reason why Heeseung may or may not be at his last straw after they had blatantly displayed their lust and attraction whenever they were in your vicinity or the interactions they had with you, as they are presently in the oldest’s room, standing in front of him like a bunch of delinquents getting reprimanded by the school’s principal.

They have long since prepared to get a hell of a beating from the oldest member that is long overdue, not that they would willingly submit to him since they still have pride in them. The door is locked shut since Heeseung doesn’t want the youngest in their team to eavesdrop on them.

The tension in the air is almost palpable, as is the deadly silence, but their eyes never stray from Heeseung’s calculated ones, and yet, his face remains unreadable despite the austerity he exudes. They have no idea what to expect, but will they be able to get out of this unscathed?

Heeseung, who has been observing them critically while he remains seated on his computer chair, finally emits a noise as he releases a sigh before loosening his taut composure. “No matter how much I want to beat the shit out of you guys, I’m not going to do that.” A humourless smirk unfurls on his lips while a spark of amusement dances in his eye. “So you can relax now.”

But neither of them dares to move a single muscle or even crack a smile, feeling dubious over his remark and his composure, as though they expect the oldest to pull a stunt.

“Are you sure?” Jay speaks up after a couple beats of silence, his eyes narrowing at the oldest, who seems wholly laid-back. “I mean, it’d be understandable and fair if you want to beat us after what happened.”

For a fleeting moment, there is a spark of temptation within Heeseung, but he shakes his head. “It isn’t worth ruining our friendship.” He states firmly before unravelling a layer of this unspoken animosity that encompassed their dynamic for two weeks. “This tension does nothing good to us if it continues because it will affect the dynamic of the team if it’s not resolved.”

“Agreed.” Sunghoon concurs, drawing their attention to him while his face remains stoic. “Sunoo informed me how different we’ve been around you lately. So I guess we should forget what happened and move past that.”

“On the contrary, I differ.” Heeseung says calmly, his expression remaining indecipherable. He heaves a deep sigh as he rubs his temple. “I’ve been thinking and reflecting ever since that day, and a part of me still refuses to accept the truth that you guys may or may not have some sort of attraction towards my girl.” He returns his stern gaze to them, his eyes hardening while his tone sounds austere. “So I’m here to ask you for the last time, and I want to hear the truth: do you or do you not lust for my girlfriend?”

The question that leaves his lips sends them flinching, most especially by how easily he enunciates those words. For a moment, neither of them dares to answer, and they silently yet collectively decide to refute, but Heeseung shoots them a warning glare.

“Don’t bother lying because I saw the way you guys looked at her the other day.” 

“Yes, we do.” Sunghoon finally admits, albeit guilt is evident in the colour of his tone as he looks away from his gaze. “Truth be told, we have always found her attractive ever since you introduced her to us. At least I know I did.” 

“But we kept our boundaries because we respected your relationship with her, we really did.” Jake adds in defensively, having a strong sense that the oldest is battling the chaotic emotions within him. “You know that we would never do anything to ruin your relationship.”

“I don’t know about you guys, but I can’t lie when I say that I found her more attractive after that incident in the hotel room.” Jay confesses, and it astounds the other two how he doesn’t look the slightest bit guilty as he continues to hold Heeseung’s gaze.

“You should be rest assured that we’re not going to do anything that might jeopardise your relationship with her.” Sunghoon informs him in an attempt to ease any doubts or worries from his mind.

Jake nods his head in agreement. “Yeah, we know how much you love her — we’ve seen how much you love her.”

They await his remark, but Heeseung continues to stare at them with indecipherable emotions, leaving them to wonder what actually goes on in his enigmatic mind. But little do they know that the oldest has made a final decision after having to battle the possessive beast within himself, as his decision involved you.

Heeseung rubs his tired face, lines of exhaustion from the lack of sleep paint his features. “To tell you the truth, I’ve been considering making our relationship open to you guys.” He divulges, his tone being carefully measured as he studies the expression on their faces, but his eyes harden briefly. “Not in the sense that it relates to poly, no, I'm too selfish to share her with you guys on that level of relationship.”

“What are you talking about, Heeseung?” Jay asks slowly, his heart palpitating at the implication while his mind is filled with pure confusion.

“I’m talking about you guys being able to have your way with her.” Heeseung elaborates nonchalantly, expecting to see some form of excitement from them, but the objection in their expression takes him by surprise.

“You’re kidding.” Sunghoon chuckles in disbelief, his eyes burning with an inexplicable fury despite his cold demeanour. “What the fuck, hyung? How could you even consider that? I thought you loved her.”

“Don’t become all principled now, Park Sunghoon.” Heeseung drawls as he leans his back against the soft cushion of his computer chair. His lips stretch into a lazy smirk. “I know that deep down, you’ve been wanting a taste of her.” 

“Woah, slow down, my guy.” Jake speaks up, getting slightly flustered by the oddity of his behaviour after noticing his possessive tendencies when it comes to you. “So let me get this straight. To put it bluntly, you’re allowing us to have sex with your girlfriend?”

“Exactly as I said.” Heeseung says calmly with his hands clasped together while resting his elbows on the armrests.

“But why?” Jay voices out his confusion. “I mean, your generosity is much appreciated, but we don’t understand. You’ve become possessive as fuck around her ever since we returned home.”

Jay has a point, but Heeseung has thought about this consideration deeply, using every rationality within him before coming into a conclusion that led to him developing a sense of pity towards his teammates. He recognised and understood that it must have been a long time since either of them had gotten laid, and with the management being strict on them, they were deprived of the privilege to, bluntly put, fuck their own fans despite the NDA serving a purpose to avoid scandals or any potential damage, but the company didn’t want any risk.

Besides, Heeseung knows that he can’t really blame them for being attracted to his gorgeous girlfriend, adding to the fact that your personality and manner are what often gravitate people towards. Hence, he has come to a decision to permit his own teammates to have their way with you, albeit there will be rules and restrictions.

“Tell me, when was the last time you guys got laid?” Heeseung asks rhetorically, raising his eyebrow at the swift avoidance in the way their eyes dart elsewhere. “A long time? Never? So why not take my offer when I’m being oh-so-generous before I change my mind?”

Collectively, suspicions brew within them as they warily stare at the oldest, who bears a smirk on his lips while he awaits their answers, feeling entirely dubious whether or not he’s testing them deliberately in an attempt to set them up. No matter how enticing the idea of them having their way with you, they wouldn’t want to risk breaking their friendship and bond with the oldest.

“What’s in it for you?” Sunghoon asks tersely, refusing to lower his guard, his icy gaze piercing, a direct challenge to Heeseung’s steely eyes. “I mean, how would this benefit you?” 

“It wouldn’t.” The genuine honesty in Heeseung’s tone seems to mollify their collective scepticism, but their demeanour remains rigid, eliciting a sigh from the oldest as he decides to deliver his sincerity in the way his eyes soften. “I’m doing this because I want to help you guys. I don’t care how much this might hurt your pride, but as your best friend, I pity you because you haven’t had the chance to get laid, and since the management is stricter on us this time, why not have your way with my girlfriend?”

“I don’t know, Hyung.” Jake mutters unsurely, frowning as he feels indecisive, torn between accepting and rejecting Heeseung’s offer.

“It’s a win-win for you guys, and possibly my girlfriend too since she gets more pleasure.” Heeseung adds, feeling more than generous to convince them.

Jay meets Jake and Sunghoon’s gaze, exchanging a silent understanding with them before directing his attention back to Heeseung. “Does she know about this? Has she even agreed to this arrangement?” 

Heeseung shakes his head. “She doesn’t know the slightest bit, but we’ll reveal it to her on the day we decide to do it with her.”

“I’m sorry, we? As in yourself too?” Jake asks in disbelief, his eyes widening slightly at the idea of Heeseung joining and watching as they might potentially obliterate you with how insatiable their needs are.

“Of course. I’m the boyfriend, aren’t I?” Heeseung smirks cockily, looking completely laid-back, but there is a predatory gleam in his gaze. “I have to make sure that you don’t break any rules, or the deal is off.”

“Afraid that your girl might catch feelings for us?” Sunghoon cracks into a grin, enjoying the scowl that contorts faintly in Heeseung’s face. “Relax, I’m kidding. She’s not even my type.” 

“So what are the rules? And what are we allowed to do with her?” Jay prods, drawing Heeseung’s attention.

“It’s simple, really. You can take her however you like, do whatever you’ve always desired to do, and you can even dirty talk to her — which, by the way, my girl’s into that — and you can kiss her on any part of her body except her lips.” Heeseung lists down with a tone of finality, leaving no room for objection or addition. His eyes are firm as he looks at them. “I can’t have you kissing my girl on the lips.”

Jake shrugs his shoulders in agreement. “Fine by me.” 

“We still need her consent.” Sunghoon reminds the bunch, his tone firm. “Because as much as I want to fuck your girl, no offence, her consent matters.”

“I know that.” Heeseung says, his features softening at the thought of you, before a familiar smugness returns, his eyes gleaming playfully. “If she agrees, it’s your luck. But if she disagrees, then I guess I should tell you good luck in advance to find other ways to get laid.”

“Man, that’s the hardest part.” Jay groans loudly, scowling in frustration. “And we can’t even fuck fans!”

“I mean, we have alternatives, if you’re up for it. We talked about it before.” Jake suggests slyly as he grins at Jay, who immediately gets a whiplash from their conversation in the past, well, more like Jake’s explicit suggestion.

“No fucking way. I’m not about to let any part of my dick make contact with yours!” Jay snarls in disagreement, disgust written over his face that Jake finds great delight in. “I wouldn’t even wanna fuck you if I swung for the same team.”

“Way to win over a man’s heart, bro.” Jake pouts his lips, only to earn a shove from Jay before they proceed to engage in their usual squabble.

“Yeah, this is the shit I have to deal with every day.” Sunghoon tells Heeseung with an eye roll while the latter simply smiles in amusement. “By the way, thanks. I’m sure it was hard for you to consider this.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m only helping you guys out.” Heeseung waves him off dismissively. “Just place your hopes too high until she agrees to it."

“I have an idea to persuade her into agreeing.” Sunghoon’s bold suggestion earns an eyebrow raise from Heeseung. “But we need your permission, of course. Are we allowed to test waters and cross some boundaries with her?”

Heeseung immediately understands, and his lips twitch into a smirk, already imagining how flustered and bothered you’d be. “Yeah, sure. Just do whatever you guys wanna do as long as it gets her riled up in some way. Besides, she’s into foreplay.” He adds wittingly, earning collective groans and curses from the three as their imaginations run rampant.

“Fuck, Heeseung, you lucky bastard.” Jay scoffs out. “You really hit the jackpot with her, huh?”

“She’s amazing.” This time, a rare yet genuine smile touches Heeseung’s lips while they recognise the familiar adoration he has for you. “You guys would know once you get to know her better.”

Despite their attraction towards you, they can’t help but feel disheartened, hoping that someday they’d have their own lovers that they adore the way Heeseung does you.

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[bartonomy]

A GLIMPSE BETWEEN THE VEIL

PAIRING James Potter x Whimsical!Reader

SYNOPSIS James Potter has never put much stock in divination, but when a peculiar classmate offers to read his future, he finds himself unable to resist.

CONTENT WARNING talk about the future, James freaking out, angsty but not too bad, not exactly romantic but the reader is implied to be interested

WORD COUNT 1.2k

library.

James Potter never fancied himself the superstitious sort. Sure, he had vague notions of grandeur- winning the Quidditch Cup, making his parents proud, marrying a cute girl with a laugh as sharp as her hexes- but actual predictions? No, thanks. That sort of thing was for people who saw shapes in tea leaves and claimed the wind is responsible for every little mishap.

Which was precisely why he was sitting crisscrossed apple sauce across from you, mildly bewildered, as you shuffled an old deck of tarot cards with an almost hypnotic grace.

“You’re taking an awful long time, darling,” James teased, propping his chin on his hand. “Are you searching for a particularly good future, or just one that doesn’t end with me embarrassing myself?”

You smiled, a slow, knowing thing that made his skin prickle.

“The cards take the time they need, James.” Your voice was soft, melodic, like you were speaking from somewhere just beyond reality. “patience, or you might spook them away, the nargles have been especially fussy these days”

“Wouldn’t want that, do we” he murmured, glancing down at the cards with skepticism.

It was a quiet afternoon in the Gryffindor common room, the fire casting warm shadows across the walls. Most of the house was either out on the grounds or in Hogsmeade, but James had lingered behind, half out of laziness, half because he’d overheard Sirius mention your readings and got inexplicably curious.

Sirius, for all his bravado, had walked away from his session looking rattled. Which was interesting and absolutely hilarious.

You sighed contently, spreading the deck between your hands like a fan. The firelight flickered, casting warm shadows over the cards, their edges frayed from years of use. James had seen you doing readings before- sometimes for your friends, sometimes for curious younger students, and even once for Professor Whats-Her-Name in the Courtyard.

“Please pick three,” you instructed with the same soft tone you only used in class.

"Aye, aye grand Seer", James did as he was told, amused despite himself. “So, how does this work? You going to tell me I’m going to be rich and famous or that my soulmate, the love of my life is around here??” he snorted "please let it be the latter one"

"You are already rich" you pointed out, laying the three picked card neatly in front of you and discarding the unused deck in your satchel "and whether or not you will find love...well. That remains to be discovered, hm?"

With that he rolled his eyes playfully and you hummed, drawing the first card and laying it gently in front of you. The Fool.

James blinked.

“Oi, that’s just rude.”

You laughed, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Not at all. The Fool isn’t the fool we all know, James. He’s someone at the beginning of a great journey, standing on the edge of a cliff, about to take a leap of faith.” You tapped the card. “He’s full of potential, but also reckless. Fascinating, don’t you think?”

James grinned. “Sounds about right so far.”

You drew the next card. The Lovers.

James coughed. “Oh, well—”

You tilted your head, studying it with quiet reverence. “This isn’t always about romance, you know. It can mean a choice, a connection, a relationship that defines a person. It’s about harmony and consequence. Something you can’t escape.”

James swallowed. His mind, without permission, conjured an image of Lily Evans—her oh so fierce green eyes, the way she scrunched her nose adorably when she was annoyed, how she never hesitated to call him out.

You watched him closely, as if seeing the thought pass across his face. He didn’t like how sharp your gaze was, like you were peeling him apart with nothing but intuition.

“Shall we?” you murmured, pulling the third card.

You turned over the third and last card.

James frowned at the image—a great tower, struck by lightning, people falling from its heights. The air around you both seemed to shift, the easy playfulness from before fading into something heavier.

“The Tower,” you murmured.

James swallowed. “That’s bad, isn’t it?”

You traced the image with a careful finger. “Not bad. Just… necessary.”

James gave a dry laugh. “Destruction is necessary? On my buttocks, you are just like us, little troublemaker”

“Sometimes.” Your voice remained gentle, but the certainty in it made James shiver and his uneasy smile faded. “The Tower comes when the foundation isn’t steady. It doesn’t destroy for the sake of it—it forces change. When the dust settles, the world isn’t the same, but that doesn’t mean it’s worse.”

James stared at the card, feeling an unexpected tightness in his chest. Something about it—it felt too close, like a whisper against the back of his mind.

“What kind of change?” he asked quietly.

You studied him for a long moment, then examined the fated cards in front of of you

James stared at them. The Fool. The Lovers. The Tower. A journey, a choice, a fall.

He let out a quiet breath. “You sure you didn’t stack the deck?”

You smiled, but didn’t answer. Instead, you gathered the cards and shuffled them again, your fingers delicate against the worn edges.

James watched you, the tightness in his chest still there, lingering.

“Do you ever do readings for yourself?”

The question was simple, but it was enough to stop your fingers mid-motion. You hadn’t expected him to ask that. It was an unexpected question. You weren’t sure why, but the thought of reading for yourself felt like stepping into uncharted territory, where the gods will have full access of your being, your soul, and your mind.

“I... would rather not” you answered softly, your eyes now focused on your hands,“I mean, It is possible if I do, but it’s not something I like to do often.”

“Why not?” James asked, his curiosity piqued, though his tone was lined with the previous horror of his reading. “Scared the cards might tell you something you don’t want to hear?”

You chuckled, but it came out strained. “Something like that.”

James leaned in a bit closer, tilting his head. “Come on, you’re always so ominous with the cards for everyone else. Don’t tell me you’re scared of a few little 'whackspurts' messing up your head.”

The mention of whackspurts—those silly, fuzzy little creatures from your gardens, made you stiffen slightly, but not in the way he intended. It was funny, yes, but also something you had come to associate with the fuzziness that clouded your mind whenever you thought too much about yourself. The confusion, the uncertainty, the inability to make sense of your own feelings. You’d often joked about whackspurts being responsible for any moments of mental fog, but in truth, it was far more than that. It was a kind of fear—the uneasiness of confronting the unknown parts of yourself, the parts that were tangled and elusive.

“I don’t think it’s whackspurts,” you said quietly, finally meeting his gaze. “not entirely at least, It’s more like… what if I look too closely and find things I’m not prepared to see? What if there’s something inside me that I’m not meant to understand?”

He only shrugged, " then you are forced to confront them no matter what. I mean, with the bullock of a reading you gave me, I can't entirely avoid it can I?" he gave you his signature smile, all teeth and stirring something foreign inside of you.

“You believe in fate, don't you?” you asked after a moment.

James shook his head. “I believe in making my own future.”

Your smile was soft. “Then do.”

The words settled into him, deep and warm, and he suddenly had the strangest feeling that one day—maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow—he would look back on this moment and realize just how much the universe had been trying to warn him.

[inej-ruination-ghafa]

NEXT OF KIN - J.T

Warnings: hospitals, near death experience

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x fem!Wilson!reader

Summary: the one where Joaquin nearly dies and you finally have to tell your father

Wordcount: 3.3k

Footsteps echoed through the building, the methodical clicking of heels ricocheting off of the walls. Everyone watched as you ran through the doors, yanking them open and scanning the sign on the wall.

Before the staff behind the desk could stop you, you were storming into the room and that’s where you stood for a moment, eyes glued on the window.

A doctor followed you in, holding his paper to his chest as he looked at you. He just watched for a moment as you reached a hand up to the glass, unable to take your eyes off of the scene.

“Excuse me,” he cared his throat and you turned your head to look at him. There were tears brimming in your eyes and you hoped he wouldn’t notice, “You can’t be in here without authorisation,”

when you said your name, the doctors eyes went wide. Your last name held a lot of power in places nowadays. Wilson. Your father had been apprehensive about you keeping the last name since his rise to fame, not wanting his daughter to get in trouble. Yet, here you were, with the same determined look on your face, willing to get in trouble if you have to

“I, um, I’m Joaquin’s next of kin, you called me,”

the doctor seemed to have gotten over his shock because he nodded his head intently, almost like he remembered calling you, “His fiancée, is it?”

“Girlfriend,”

“Miss Wilson, the injuries are extensive,” the doctor said as he walked over, looking at the scene in front of him.

You looked over again, staring at the surgery. He was under the knife and you just watched as they chopped into him, over and over again. They were keeping him alive, a ventilator on, blood bags ready in the corner.

Your heart was racing as you wondered if this was it. This could be the last time you saw him alive, covered in tarps and surrounded by doctors with bloody scalpels. He looked so fragile.

“I can see,” the words were hoarse coming from your throat.

You had cried most of the way over here. You had been in the middle of a work meeting when your phone had rung and you ignored it for a few moments before remembering that you had said goodbye to your boyfriend and father a few days prior.

joaquin had come to say his goodbye to you before he left, the two of you parting with a kiss before he drove off to work that day. He knew he wasn’t going to be back any time soon. And now here he was, lying on an operating table.

Your heart felt like it was splintering every moment that he stayed on that table. Tears pooled in your eyes as you looked at him in that condition; he seemed so fragile.

“He has been in rough condition but should be out of surgery within the hour, they’re just fixing him up. He broke a few ribs, has a few first and second degree burns, a broken arm,” there was a weight in your chest as you listened to the doctor explain it all, “His heart did stop but there should be no long lasting issues,”

Your eyes went wide and you turned to the doctor, a sharp pain in your chest, “He died?”

“Miss Wilson,” he tried to reason with you.

Your head was spinning and it was like you were drowning in all of your thoughts. You had nearly lost the love of your life, the one person who had ever cared for you so much. He had nearly died and you couldnt do anything about it.

“He died?” You repeated, breath heavy.

“Medically speaking,”

You choked back a sob, hand coming to cover your mouth as the tears spilled over your cheeks. He had died. He had died. That was all that you kept repeating to yourself.

You turned and looked back at Joaquin. You remembered meeting him for the first time at an awards ceremony two years ago. He was standing alongside your father and he had caught your eye in moments. He had come up to you, nervous, hands shaking, yet he kept that suave smile on his face as he introduced himself.

Now, as you stared at the man on the operating table, you realised just how much he meant to you. You would not be the same person if you had not met him that day.

You were so consumed with your thoughts as you stared at the operating table hat you didnt hear the footsteps approaching.

In the glass, you caught your fathers reflection and realised that he was going to see you standing there, crying your eyes out over nearly losing your boyfriend. A boyfriend he didnt know you had.

You and Joaquin had been together for around 18 months now and had decided to hide the relationship from your father because it was easier not to get him involved. He was so overly protective over you and you knew he would be mad if he saw that you were falling in love with someone with such a dangerous occupation.

as discreetly as you could, you wiped the tears from your cheeks with the sleeve of your cardigan, checking yourself in the reflection to make sure you didn’t look too bad before you turned and saw him.

”Kiddo, what are you doing here?” He furrowed his brows at you, giving you that familiar judgemental look, like he was concerned with your wellbeing but was disappointed that you were there, “I dont want you getting caught up in this,”

You shrugged, not sure what to say, “I got a call,”

“As Torres’ next of kin, it is procedure, sir,” the doctor stated, thinking that he was solving the issue.

Silence fell over the room and you locked eyes with your father. He had that look on your face that you hadn’t seen since you were 17 and sneaking Billy Newsome out of your second story window. He was so angry at you that you could feel it in the air.

The doctors eyes went wide as he realised what he had done, exposing something that he had wrongfully assumed was common knowledge.

He took a deep breath, tilting his head as he looked at you, eyes narrowed, ”Excuse me,”

The lack of words made it even worse. Those two very simple words sent a chill down your spine and even if you were 23 years old, you could still feel the panic in your chest, like you were a little girl about to be reprimanded again.

“Dad,” there were no words that you could think of that would fix this.

If your heart wasnt already pounding in your chest from how nervous you were about Joaquin, it was definitely racing now as you realised you had been caught in a lie.

“I am sorry, I, uh, Mr Captain America, I will be back in half an hour when the surgery is complete,” he explained before rushing away.

Neither of them moved as the doctor fled the room, horrified at what he had just caused. You couldnt care less, all you could care about was that Joaquin was going to be okay.

You looked at your father, the man who had raised you, your hero. Now he was giving you that disapproving stare and you were uncomfortable standing in the tension.

“Spit it out dad,”

He folded his arms across his chest, “What do you want me to say?”

“Hey, how are you doing?” You mimicked his voice.

There was that tension again, even if you tried to make a joke. In any other circumstance, he would have laughed but he just narrowed his eyes at you.

“No. Who called you?” He quizzed.

You rolled your eyes as you realised that he was really angry, “The hospital,”

“why?” Sam knew the answer. It was obvious at this point what was going on and he kicked himself for not having noticed it sooner.

He should have noticed how whenever Joaquin would come round for dinner, he would always sit beside you. Or the way that he would watch you at the galas that you would attend, his eyes always following you around the room and tracing your curves.

“I am his next of kin,” you said.

For a moment you weren’t sure what would be the right thing to do, whether you should try to explain it or just rip the band aid off. At the time, the latter made more sense but now as you stood there, looking at the shock on his face, you wondered if it was right.

After the two of you had been together for six months, you had both put each other as emergency contacts. He lived such a dangerous life and you would never forgive yourself if you werent there for him when he needed you.

”I heard that the first time,” your father said angrily, almost as if hearing you say it made it real.

“Then why did you ask again?” You scoffed, furrowing your brow. You’re sure that if anyone had seen the two of you, you’d be mirrors of each others annoyed expressions.

“I thought I was hearing things,”

He folded his arms across his chest and then looked to his right and stared at the operating theatre. They were starting to pack things away and you were glad that he was going to be out of surgery.

You followed his eyeline and the two of you were both silent for a moment as you looked at the scene. Joaquin meant a lot to the two of you so to lose him would have broken you.

You sighed, shaking your head as you remembered the situation you had gotten yourself into. Your father turned to you, giving you that look again, “What is wrong with you?”

that was the final straw. You were sleep deprived from the flight over to the Indian Ocean to see your boyfriend and you were scared out of your mind and you were angry at your dad and all of it just bubbled up at that moment and you exploded.

“Wrong with me! My boyfriend just fell out of the sky. He was hit by a missile and nearly died in the Indian Ocean and you’re asking what is wrong with me!” You yelled it out, hands waving around as you tried to convey just how awful this all was.

Although Sam was still angry at you for not telling him your biggest secret, he could see how much you loved Joaquin just from how mad you got. He had seen you stand up for yourself all the time but never like this.

“Calm down kid, I’m your dad, I am allowed to be mad that you didn’t tell me you were dating my protégée,” he said, shaking his head.

“For this reason,” you brushed your hand over your face, trying to calm yourself down.

“What?”

You scoffed, not understanding who he couldn't see what was wrong, “You are overreacting. You don't approve,”

“Its dangerous to be in love with a superhero,” he stated.

Sam would know. There was a reason why him and your mother didn’t work out, and that’s because of his time in the army. He couldn’t imagine trying to make that relationship work as a superhero.

He could see Pepper sobbing over Tony’s body, or Steve having to leave Peggy. All of those things were because of their superhero powers. He would never wish that fate on you.

“I love him dad,” it was all you could say, all you could think of to try and convince him that this was worth it.

“I can see that, it doesn't mean I approve,” he explained.

“That's why I didn't tell you. Joaquin, he wanted to, he hated having to lie to you,” you reasoned with him.

You thought back to a few weeks ago as you lay in Joaquin’s arms, before everything had gone to shit. He had asked you whether you wanted to tell your father now about the two of you. Maybe you should have done it then.

“He still did it,” Sam shook his head. He saw Joaquin as the son he never had, and he thought that maybe he was the only one worthy for his daughter. Yet he still lied to him for 18 months.

“Dad. He loves me and I love him. I will spend the rest of my life loving that man and the second i found out he had been hurt, I rushed over. I cannot lose him daddy,” your voice broke at the end.

There was silence. You never called him that, not since you were a little kid. He could see the fear, watched as the tears pooled in your waterline, threatening to spill over.

Although he wished his little girl would never grow up, that you would stay that innocent child forever, he knew that you and Joaquin were in love, just from the fear in your eyes.

“Come here kid,” he held his arms out.

It was like all of your lies didn’t matter and he just embraced you, holding you close as you sobbed into his shoulder.

For the first time since you heard the news, you gave yourself a moment to cry, hands clenched onto his jacket as you cried. You had nearly lost Joaquin, your dad could have died as well. Sometimes it was too much.

There was no conversation as you composed yourself, pulling back, wiping the tears from your cheeks. He placed a hand on your cheek, smiling at the woman you had become.

“You are going to live a very long life and so will he, you will get to do that together. I wish you would have told me,” he said.

Although you hated to admit defeat, you knew he was right, “You would have been more worried about him,”

“I am worried about him,” he said, eyes flickering back over to where he was being wheeled away into another room, ready to be transported back to the states, “He’s gonna be okay kiddo,”

“Thanks dad,” you smiled, knowing this was all going to work out.

Joaquin was transported back to the states within a few days, still fast asleep. You had barely left his side, the news constantly on by his bedside so you could see what your father was up to. You were sat by Joaqquin’s bedside as you watched Sam fight the Red Hulk.

“What ya watching?” A voice asked and you whipped your head to the side to see him opening his eyes, looking at you.

A sob racked through your chest and your hand flew to your mouth. You were happier than you had ever been before as you looked at him. He had been awake sometimes with the doctors but you hadn’t spoken to him yet.

“Dad on the news, hes sorted everything out,” you explained, knowing he wouldn’t want to be too sappy.

he hummed in response, closing his eyes for a moment. You watched him, that peaceful look on his face and you thanked whatever God was out there for saving the man you loved.

“You nearly died baby,” you whispered, almost like saying it out loud made it real.

He opened his eyes and looked at you, really looked at you. There were bags under your eyes from his lack of sleep and your eyes were red like you had been crying for days.

Almost like he hadn’t been in a near death experience, he lifted his hand up and brushed a hand over your cheek, almost like he was making sure that you were real and not some kind of dream.

“I’m sorry,”

you shook your head because there was nothing to be sorry for. “You’re here now,” you smiled at him, a tear rolling down your cheek that he quickly wiped away with the pad of his thumb.

“I should have been more careful,” he said like it would have changed it, someone would always get hurt in these situations.

“You wouldn’t be the man I love if you didn’t work so hard, didn’t go out there no care for everyone else,” you said.

that was one of the reasons you fell in love with him, his devotion to his job and his dedication for what is right in the world.

“I should be more careful,” he repeated, “I couldn’t stand not coming home to you,”

You took his hand in yours and placed it in your lap, brushing your fingers over his knuckles absentmindedly. There was something so domestic about the moment, in the way that he looked at you with pure adoration.

“I always knew you would come home,”

He nodded, tears burning behind his eyes but he didn’t want you to see him like that right now, especially when he is already so weak, one hand strapped up in a sling, burns healing over his neck.

“Dad knows,” you broke the silence.

You watched as the fear fell over his face, eyes widening. This was what he had feared for so long, of not being good enough for your father, his mentor, his idol.

“And?” He waited for your response, eyes still wide.

You smiled at his reaction, “He was angry, but he knows how much we love each other,”

Joaquin let out a sigh of relief, “I’m glad, so hes not angry?”

“Just a little bit,” another voice said and you turned to look over your shoulder to see Sam standing at the door, looking at the two of you.

You couldnt tell for a moment if it was a look of shock but then you saw the smile on his face, the way that he looked at the obvious love between you and Joaquin and you knew he approved.

“Sir, I am so sorry-” he started to defend himself but Sam held his hand up, shutting the boy up.

“As long as you look after my daughter then I will not be angry,” he chuckled to himself, “But if you ever lay a hand on her, I will kill you,”

“Yes sir, I would never,” he looked at you, a smile pulling at the corner of your mouth, “I love her,”

Sam smiled, “I can see, son,”

Joaquin’s face lit up like he had always wanted that approval from him. You leaned down and pressed a kiss against his temple, avoiding the cut on his forehead that was still fresh.

“Can you give me and Joaquin a minute to talk, we have to discuss his new roles,” Sam said and your boyfriends eyes widened. He wasn’t sure what this meant but it could be about your relationship, or his role as the new Falcon.

“Sure dad,” you leaned down and pressed a kiss against Joaquin’s lips, a chaste kiss that promised that you would be back. When you pulled back and saw your dad’s disgusted face, you laughed, “Go easy on him,”

as you walked out of the room, you looked back at the two most important men in your life and wondered why it took you so long to reveal the relationship.

[bluskaies]

DAD THINGS THAT BLLK GUYS DO PT.2

headcannons of bllk guys doing dad things :)

characters: chigiri, kunigami, karasu, otoya, hiori, gagamaru, kaiser and ness

contains aged up bllk guys as dads and fluff <3

Chigiri

doesn't remember any of your friends names even though he's met them before and knows who they are

Kunigami

will have you hold the light while he's fixing stuff. gets mad when you don't point the light in the right direction

Karasu

has loud ass sneezes that are strong enough to shake the entire house

Otoya

tells a LOT of dad jokes. the type to laugh at his own jokes

Hiori

whenever you text him something, he'll always respond with "👍🏻" it could be something really important and he'll still reply with the same emoji

Gagamaru

during road trips, if you have snacks with you, he will reach his hand behind to get some while driving

Kaiser

whenever you're watching a reality tv show, he'll comment how "fake" and "scripted" these shows are but will continue to stand there and watch it

Ness

will call out landmarks on a road trip and continue to tell you the entire histories behind them

note: this is the part two of my "dad things that bllk guys do" i was conflicted if I should add kaiser but I ended up adding him too :3

dividers by @cafekitsune

[shayminlucario07]

People really will take any excuse they can to be racist to authors of color.

This this the same author who called out Cait Corrain for maliciously attacking POC authors that were direct competition, by the way. Xiran does not have some evil, twisted agenda to destroy as much competition as possible. If they did, they wouldn't have said shit about Cait Corrain! If you enjoy reading and writing as much as you claim to, you *have* to have the critical thinking skills necessary to understand that.

(Also, from my own observations as a bookseller- the idea that similar books are "competition" is ridiculous and only something publishing executives who don't understand the industry would believe. Because from everything I've seen- which is a lot, because I've been selling books for a few years now- books that are supposedly competing with each other often get each other more sales. We're literally told to sell people on smaller titles by using the bigger titles those readers have enjoyed to recommend the smaller titles based on similarities. The amount of books I've sold by comparing them to something like Fourth Wing or ACOTAR is too much to count. Plot twist: People who like one thing are very likely to enjoy another similar thing! That's the entire reason why books put review quotes from other authors on their covers. Christopher Paolini wasn't quoted on the cover of Onyx Storm for no reason, he was there because he's one of the biggest authors of Dragon Fantasy, and his name has capital i Influence.)

Some truths about the publishing industry because I certainly got blindsided when going in. Now I'm so broken by this industry I struggle to encourage aspiring writers lmao

[mariasont]

short n sweet but we need one where spencer loves head scratches and getting his hair played with

Heart Nebula - S.R

summary: spencer tells you every atom in your body was once part of a star, but you think he's the celestial wonder worth studying. pairings: spencer reid x reader warnings: fluff galore, existentialism, star-gazing, astrophysics inaccuracies im so sure wc: 2.1k

"You'd be so proud of me today, you know."

You scoot closer, disrupting the careful folds of the blanket. The fabric bunches beneath your legs, damp soil seeps through, not quite wet enough to be a problem, but enough to make you aware of it. A blade of grass tickles stubbornly at your ankle. You wiggle your foot once, twice, it stays. Some things do.

Your pinky grazes his, the barest of contact, but he turns his head anyway. The night seems to fold him in shadow, softens his features, makes him look almost ethereal. His eyes give him away, glinting back at you, tiny shards of cosmos blinking back at you. It should be impossible to feel jealously of the sky, and yet.

"Yeah?" The familiar crease settles between his brows, a well-loved marker in the pages of him. His head tilts, waiting, not impatiently, already certain he's going to love your answer. "Why's that?"

Your smile jumps ahead of you, swells into one of those too-big-for-your-face grins. The kind that crinkles your nose, bunches your cheeks, makes your face ache after a while.

"I learned about a nebula."

Spencer's laugh starts in his chest and works its way out, rattling through his ribs, shaking his shoulders, until the momentum knocks his knee into yours.

"Look at you," he says, all teasing admiration. "I am proud. Which one?"

"I think It was called the Heart Nebula?" You glance at him, waiting, watching, half-hoping that he'll recognize the name, that he'll give you that little nod of confirmation.

He does. You beam.

"I saw a picture earlier, and it was just—," You trail off, eyes tipping upwards, letting the sky steal whatever poetic explanation you were about to give. "I don't know. Too beautiful to be real."

Spencer had been so excited when you told him you wanted to stargaze, his eyes had practically glowed, already rattling off a dozen facts about atmospheric conditions and celestial visibility, and why tonight was perfect.

He barely took a breath before he had been launching into a dozen more reasons, winding himself up so tight with words that the only way to release them, apparently, was kissing you. Feverishly.

Like he had no other way to translate his excitement into something tangible, something felt.

It made you want to promise him everything, to tell him you'd do this forever, that you'd let him drag you under the stars a thousand times over if it meant being kissed like that.

Spencer glances at you, his mouth twitching like you've just said the punchline to a joke you don't realize you're telling. You're here, waxing about a sky full of ancient light, calling the Heart Nebula too beautiful to be real, and he's looking at you like you've missed the most obvious part.

You narrow your eyes, but he only shakes his head, like whatever crossed his mind was his to keep.

"The Heart Nebula is full of newborn stars," he tells you, gaze still pointed on the sky. "Their radiation makes the gas glow red, pink. The whole thing shifts under stellar winds, reshaping itself, over and over again."

His voice wades its way through the parts of your brain, finding its place. He has this way of explaining things, of turning something infinite into something intimate. 

And you love that. Love how he does that. Love the way he sees things. Love him.

"It's about 7,500 light-years away. Which means the light we're seeing now left before humans even figured out agriculture." A small, disbelieving laugh escapes him. "By the time it reaches us, whatever we're looking at doesn't exist the same way anymore. It's already changed. Probably unrecognizable."

His fingers twitch against his thigh, probably resisting the urge to gesture. "Space is weird like that."

"I don't know, Spence," you tease, fingers pinching the sleeve of his shirt, catching just enough of him to feel real. His dimple carves into his cheek and your heart stumbles, caught between beats. "It kind of sounds like you're telling me I can't trust my own eyes."

"Well, technically you can't." He turns fully toward you, dimple still firmly in place, eyes flicking, too quickly, too obviously, to your lips. "The human eye takes in scattered bits of light, and your brain—" he taps your temple for emphasis "—fills in the blanks. Adjusts for shadows, alters colors based on what it thinks is there. Your eyes are compulsive liars."

He pauses, tiling his head, considering. "And since our perception is limited by our optic nerves, no one really sees their own eyes the way others do. Which is a shame, because if you could see yours the way I do, you'd understand why I can't help but stare."

There are moments when Spencer says something so casually devastating that your brain just empties, and this is absolutely one of them. Your mouth opens, then closes again.

"That's—" Your voice catches, so you clear your throat, shake your head, try to reassemble your thoughts. "That's a really unfair thing to say, you know."

Spencer blinks, like he’s running back through the conversation in real time, replaying his own words to figure out what, exactly, made you forget how to breathe. 

"Why?"

"Because some of us have a very delicate hold on their emotional stability, and you—” you point at him, accusing “— just shattered it in two sentences."

"Technically, that’s the limbic system at work. The amygdala controls emotional reactivity, but the prefrontal cortex tempers it."

You would try to unpack that, really, you would, but then his hands find your waist, and suddenly the ground isn't where you thought it was. You gasp, giggle, crash right into him, catching yourself with shaking hands against his chest.

"So really," he continues, as if you aren't sprawled across him, "if your emotional stability was shattered, you should blame your neural pathways, not me."

Your fingers twist in his hair as you lean in to kiss him, deeply and thoroughly, like proof, like inevitability maybe, a thought forming in real time, one you can press straight into his skin. 

"Maybe my neural pathways are just adapting to something worth remembering," you whisper, and the way he stills, the way his lips part just slightly, makes you think you might not be the only one.

Spencer makes a small, pleased noise against your lips, something that was half sighed and smiled, and you feel it, all of it, in the way his throat moves beneath your fingertips as he swallows.

"That... might be my favorite use of neuroscience yet."

You flash him a grin. "And you thought I wasn't paying attention when you ramble."

"I should've known you'd find a way to weaponize it."

You let your full weight settle onto him, chin perched on his chest, his heartbeat a slow song beneath your cheek. Your fingers slip into his hair, threading through soft strands, nails scraping lightly over his scalp, testing a theory you already know the answer to.

Yeah. Definite reaction.

"So that's what it takes, huh?" you tease, lips curling against the material of his shirt. You scratch again to be sure, and his next breath comes slower. "Just a well-placed brain chemistry reference?"

"From you? Yeah, that'll do it."

"Noted." A pause. Then, softer. "Keep talking to me about space."

"You know, you're kind of demanding." Spencer's fingers skate along your waist before he squeezes, firm and quick, like a punctuation mark to his sentence. 

Your head lifts, eyebrow quirked, fingers hovering just out of reach, close enough for him to feel the absence. "Excuse me?"

His smirk vanishes instantly, wiped clean, replaced by something perilously close to distress. His hands twitch at your waist, fingers moving like he can pull you back, like he can make you continue if he just wants it badly enough.

"Wait, wait, I was kidding," he rushes out, voice just shy of frantic. “Don't stop."

You grin, tilting your head like you're considering it. "Hmmm. Apologize."

"I—okay, I'm sorry, you're perfect, please—" his breath hitches, his laugh a little wild, a little helpless, "please keep going."

You giggle, fingertips weaving back into his hair. His response is immediate, a low, shaky sound that buzzes against your skin, something so content it makes warmth spreads through you like a lit fuse, spilling all the way down to your toes.

Spencer smirks, fingers drumming against your waist.

"You really don't let a guy off easy, do you?" He pauses for a second, glancing past you at the sky like he's taking in his options.

"Alright. Here's a fact you might like, every single part of you was once part of a star. All the heavier elements in your body, oxygen, carbon, nitrogen, they were formed in the core of ancient stars, forged under immense heat and pressure, then scattered across the galaxy when those stars died, reforming."

His words drift to you, but you don't catch them all. You're too busy watching him.

Out here, in the absence of light pollution, you can see him more clearly than ever. The starlight doesn't just touch him, it claims him, dusting his skin in silver, catching in his lashes, turning the slopes of him almost unreal. Like if you blink too long, he might disappear, slip back into the night where he belongs. A constellation carved into the shape of a person.

You used to think brown was such a simple color. But then you met him, saw his eyes, now it's in everything. Wet earth after rain, cinnamon dusted over coffee, burnt sugar on your tongue.

And now, he’s teaching you it’s also carbon and oxygen forged in the cores of dying stars, pieces of the galaxy that had traveled billions of years to become chocolate flecks on a beautiful face.

He was right, it is a shame people never see their eyes the way others do.

"But how?" you ask. "Like... how does something go from being part of a star to being part of us?"

Spencer exhales softly and you can see the way he loves the question.

 "It's a long process. Billions of years, actually. When a star explodes, it sends all those elements out into space. They mix with other interstellar material, forming new stars, planets, and eventually..." He taps a gentle finger against your stomach. "You."

"That's kind of incredible."

Spencer huffs a quiet laugh, grinning, that beautiful grin, the one that makes your chest feel too small for your heart. His fingers find your temple, trail gently down to your cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Then, without pause, he leans in and presses the gentlest kiss to your nose.

"It is," he murmurs, thumb brushing against your cheek. "We're built from pieces of space, borrowed, passed down, stitched together by time."

"So you're saying we've been part of the same universe forever? That's kind of romantic, Spence."

"It's also backed by astrophysics. Science just happens to be romantic sometimes. "

"Well, good," you murmur, pressing a kiss to his neck. "I like knowing there's proof... but I think I would've believed it anyway."

You barely have time to register the flicker in his eyes before, he moves. In a second, you're on your back, the sky stretching endlessly behind him. The stars flicker, countless and beautiful, but right now, they might as well not exist.

Because all you see is him.

He hovers over you, gaze intent, studying you, like you're a phenomenon he never expected to witness up close. Like he's sure now, more than he's ever been about anything. Like you are the discovery of a lifetime.

"The universe has been expanding for 13.8 billion years," he murmurs, fingers trailing along your jaw. "But I don't think it's ever made anything more beautiful than you."

Heat blooms beneath your skin. "More than the Heart Nebula?"

It should sound like teasing. It doesn't.

Spencer exhales, almost like he's amused by your doubt.

"The Heart Nebula exists purely because gravity and radiation dictate that it must. But you..." His gaze softens. "You exist because of a thousand tiny impossibilities stacking on top of each other. The odds of you, of this, are so astronomically low that it shouldn't have happened at all."

Spencer just looks at you for a moment. You don't move, don't breathe. And then he kisses you.

It crashes over you, stealing your breath before you even realize it's happening. His hands tighten at your sides, pulling you closer, like the space between you is unbearable. It's not rushed nor desperate, but it is consuming, the kind of thing that makes it impossible to think of anything else.

When he breaks away, he doesn't go far, forehead resting against yours. "If the universe was capable of making something more beautiful, it would have done it by now."

And maybe that’s true. Maybe the universe, for all its galaxies and nebulae and infinite expanse, never did anything better than this. Not just you, but you and him together. 

Or maybe the universe will never quite get it right again. Because maybe this was its best work.

But it won’t stop trying. It never does. Even after you’re gone, even after you and Spencer are nothing but scattered atoms, the universe will keep going. Creating. Expanding. Changing. New stars will be born, dust will settle into something new, planets will form, galaxies will stretch apart. And maybe, somewhere, the pieces that were once you and him will find their way back to each other. And maybe, if the universe has any kindness left in it, they’ll get to love like this.

💌 masterlist taglist has been disbanned! if you want to get updates about my writings follow and turn notifications on for my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs

[kxtsukixoxo]

just in case // katsuki bakugou

emergency contacts were something you never considered important, you knew if anything had happened you’d tell them to call your significant other, but for some odd reason katsuki threw a tantrum until you added his number to your emergency contacts and added him as a legacy contact, allowing him to access your data if you ever died. 

just in case. 

you didn’t remove him, even after the breakup. you laid on your side, nuzzling into the covers with your phone in one hand as you reviewed your details, updating the necessary information. you finally reached it. his name with an orange heart next to it. you didn’t bother changing his contact name or deleting it too, it felt like a waste of time. you placed your phone onto pillow next to yours, the very same pillow katsuki once fell asleep on. 

you’d be a formidable liar if you ever said you didn’t miss waking up next to him, as the soft hues of daylight shone onto his soft skin, his blonde hair gleaming with life, as you placed a kiss on his forehead. the memory lulling you into a deep sleep. 

you woke up in ice cold sheets, no form of body heat from the empty space next to you, no snoring, just quiet.

following the cycle you did every single day, shower, go to work, get into your car and drive back home. 

“good evening, this is Jaku General Hospital, am i speaking to Katsuki Bakugou?” 

“yes you are.” 

“i regret to inform you that [y/n] [l/n] has sadly passed away, we decided that we should call you first since you were part of her emergency contacts, may i ask what is your relationship with the deceased?” 

katsuki felt his grip on his phone slip, finally clenching it harder, “boyfriend.” 

“do you remember the key to access her details, you’re the only individual she has added to her legacy contacts list” 

how could he forget it, he made you do it after all. 

“hello? sir? are you there?” katsuki placed the phone down as incoherent words exuded his phone, he could still remember the day he pressurised you into adding him onto your emergency contacts list, you were persistent in ignoring such fimble things, yet katsuki didn’t give up. 

receiving your belongings in a small tray, he picked up your phone, your lockscreen displayed a picture you took with him when you two first started dating, you looked so different. you looked happy. 

“passcodes still my birthday huh?”