#That they will have another kid to care for

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 24 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley intended to take care of a few important things while he had the week off from work, but a quick visit to base brought with it a change of plans.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, adult language, smut, very hands-on Bradley, spanking, 18+

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

The following day, instead of dressing in a uniform or flight suit, Bradley pulled on jeans and a tropical print shirt while he watched you get yourself ready for work.

"You look cute," he murmured as you wiggled into a dress and some simple flats. "And I like it that you're officially living here now instead of just staying for a few days."

"The commute is not ideal," you told him immediately. "But this is." You placed your hand on his abs before giving him the sweetest kiss that left him soft inside. "This is ideal."

Fuck. He was so in love it was insane. As soon as he was back in your presence for a few hours, having sex and eating pasta, he could barely remember how miserable he'd been on that deployment. It was like nothing else mattered as long as he kept coming back to you.

"Let me pack your lunch," he whispered, tilting your chin up for another one of those kisses. Then he was on his way to the kitchen before he could make you late for school. Before he got home, you filled the refrigerator with everything he liked to eat, and he inhaled two yogurts and some peanut butter toast while he made your sandwich. 

The notes you opened from the box he sent were on the kitchen counter, and he smiled. Nat covered for him big time on Christmas Eve so he could make that happen. He was excited to get to see her when he stopped by North Island, but he had to get you to work first.

"You don't need to drop me off. It's so far out of the way," you told him as you appeared with your tote bag. "I'll drive myself."

When he pouted, you laughed. "Come on, Gorgeous. I want to. I need to stop on base anyway."

"Oh, can you remind Marty and Nat about Career Day?" you asked, holding your bag open for your lunch.

"Nat's coming, too? You'll have the whole of the Navy there, Baby."

"The kids would love that."

Bradley narrowed his eyes. "As long as I'm still the favorite."

"You're irreplaceable," you promised.

You weren't exaggerating one bit when you said the commute was a killer. Bradley hummed along to the radio and held your hand, barely making it through the Starbucks drive-thru line and up to your school before the last minute that you needed to be there.

"I love you. Bye," you told him, kissing him quickly before jumping out the passenger door and running up the sidewalk with your enormous drink in one hand. He was absolutely addicted to the coffee now as well, and after he was sure you made it inside, he sipped his own cup as he drove back down the highway.

It was strange to be going through the guard gates this late in the morning, and when he approached the hangar in his street clothes, he heard Nat's voice and sassy whistle immediately. 

"Looking good, Rooster. Did you forget to do your laundry? Did you forget what time work started while you were deployed?" she called, and he made a point to mess up her hair when she gave him a tight hug. "You're the worst."

"I missed you too, Nat," he told her with a laugh. "Thanks for looking after my girl."

She shrugged and said, "I'm always in the market for drinking wine and talking about you behind your back. Plus, she's actually great. Hanging out with her is the best."

"Yeah," he replied, laughing harder. "That's why I want to do it all the time. I intend to do it forever."

One of her dark eyebrows shot up, and she smirked as she said, "Like forever, forever?"

He ducked his head and cleared his throat. "Yeah, but engagement rings are expensive." Natasha screeched and punched him in the shoulder. "Why are you like this?" he asked as she smacked him several times and jumped around excitedly.

Bradley was saved from being attacked when Maverick walked in with his familiar clipboard in hand and a frown on his face. "Phoenix, you're supposed to be in the tower. Rooster, welcome back. Why aren't you dressed?"

"My vacation days got approved," Bradley replied as Natasha quietly crept away. "I'm off the rest of the week. Didn't anyone tell you?"

"It's probably in my emails." Maverick's frown faded away as he pulled Bradley in for a hug. "I was a little worried for a minute there that you'd end up back in Norfolk." He slapped him on the back. "If you're off all week, why are you here?"

Bradley chuckled. "I just wanted to see everyone. Like you said, I was a little worried about Norfolk, too."

Maverick eyed him closely. "And did I hear you say something about an engagement ring?"

It wasn't like there was anything to hide. Bradley figured it was pretty obvious to everyone by now that his relationship with you was the real deal. Hell, Maverick even compared it to his own parents. "Yeah, I'm going to buy one this month. I just need to juggle some finances around to make sure I can get her something really pretty. But I'm going to start looking today."

A slow nod turned into a beaming smile, and then Maverick said, "Before you do anything, I have something you might want to know about."

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

You were dead on your feet at work. Staying up half the night making love and snuggling left you with a smile on your face, but you couldn't stop yawning. Your students noticed right away as you drained your coffee and groaned when the bell rang signaling the start of class.

"Did you have a hard time sleeping?" Jayden asked.

"A little bit," you replied, remembering the way you had to keep pinching yourself to make sure Bradley's strong arm wrapped around you all night was real.

"Was there a loud noise that kept you up?" Nia asked.

You tried not to snort as you thought about Bradley's moans and grunts in your ear as he fucked you from behind. "Something like that. It's time to review our spelling words."

Even though you insisted that Bradley didn't need to drive you to work, he did, and he promised he'd be back right on time to pick you up at the end of the day. But he was such a liar. He arrived at your classroom fifteen minutes before dismissal time with rosy cheeks and eighteen envelopes.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw's here!" Nia called out when your boyfriend knocked on the door before slipping inside. 

He made a beeline right to you, placing a rather innocent kiss on your cheek. "I hope you don't mind, but I wanted to drop these off," he said, holding up the envelopes. The top one had Jackie's name on it, and your heart soared. Butterflies took off. You had to work really hard not to kiss him again.

"We don't mind," you told him, and you watched him pass out the individual notes he must have written for your students while he was deployed. All eyes were on him as he walked around your classroom, delivering envelopes and answering questions.

"When did you get home from the Atlantic Ocean?"

"Was the food good on the aircraft carrier?"

"Are you coming back for Career Day on Friday?"

Bradley took everything in stride like he always did, but his eyes returned to yours frequently, and his flushed cheeks left you feeling dizzy.

"I got home yesterday," he said, voice deep and commanding as he set the last of his envelopes down on Violet's desk. "The food was terrible. So bad. Nothing like the Pacific Fleet. Nowhere near as good as what you ate on your field trip to North Island. I'm thinking about writing a letter to complain."

"You should," Violet told him seriously. "Yummy, balanced meals are so important."

"You're so right," he replied with a nod. "And yes, I'll be back on Friday for Career Day. Your teacher worked so hard on it, I wouldn't miss it for anything." You were gripping the edge of your desk now as he smiled at you.

"I didn't know you were allowed to wear anything except your uniforms," marveled Oliver.

Bradley looked down at his patterned shirt and laughed. "Should I stick with the flight suit for Friday?"

Then the dismissal bell rang, and your kids started to scramble. You usually had them packed up and ready to go a few minutes early, but Bradley was clearly more exciting than the end of the school day. 

"Don't forget about the spelling test tomorrow!" you called out as they all exited the room in a mass of chaos after high fiving your boyfriend. "Thanks for surprising us," you said as you spun to face him.

"Thanks for being so perfect that I can't stay away from you."

Your cheeks blazed with warmth as you ducked against his chest. Muscular arms wrapped you up in a hug as you muttered, "Did you remind Natasha and Marty about Friday?"

"Mmhmm."

"And did you get to see Maverick?"

He paused before squeezing you a little tighter and kissing the top of your head. "Uh, yes. I did. Now will you let me take you home so I can get back to my busy schedule of eating delicious food, napping and fucking you senseless?"

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

Bradley spent the following day unpacking more of your stuff while you were at work. You had all these fancy things he needed to make room for. Like an air fryer. And a rice cooker. Things he would have never used otherwise, but he didn't mind having them here now. 

He took breaks to read from the journal you kept while he was away, often smiling and laughing at what you'd written in your daily log. It was no wonder he fell in love with you through your writing; you were just the same as you were in person and so authentic this way. Then he read about the day you helped Edith with some chores, and he sprawled out on the couch with a groan.

You were the sweetest thing in his life. One time, Vanessa told him that Edith was annoying and only wanted attention. He rolled his eyes then, and he rolled them again now. She was elderly. Of course she wanted attention. But Bradley knew she also had arthritis, and helping her with yard work was fast and painless for him. He couldn't imagine you saying anything like that.

Bradley slipped into a hazy daydream, thinking about how he wanted to propose to you as his feet hung over the end of the couch. He wasn't going to last long now, and he knew it. Not with that ring tucked away in a Zip-lock bag which was duct taped underneath the bathroom sink vanity behind the pipes. If nothing else, he knew it was there, and he could rip it down any time he felt like asking you to marry him, but he wanted it to be special. Really special.

Maybe he could write something for you. Maybe he should take you out to dinner again. There had to be a way to make it just right so you couldn't say no.

After a few more minutes of indulging in the fantasy of having you as his wife, he stood up and attempted to use the air fryer to make lunch. Pretty soon he gave up and made a sandwich instead before walking next door to knock on Edith's door.

"Bradley!" she said, pulling the door open for him. "You're home. Your girlfriend told me you were deployed earlier this month."

"I just got back on Monday. A little bruised, but no worse for the wear," he told her with a smile. "I wanted to see if you needed help with anything."

"Oh, your sweet girlfriend already changed my light bulbs for me," she told him. Then she lowered her voice and smirked. "She's a looker."

"Yeah," he confirmed with a nod. "She's Gorgeous. She also moved in with me, so if I'm not home and you need something, you can always ask her, okay?" 

Edith fretted her hands, and Bradley leaned back out the open front door, knowing she wouldn't agree to his help unless she paid him in some way. Truthfully, he really did feel like playing the piano anyway. "It looks like you've got some weeds that need to be pulled, and your downspout is loose again. How about you think of a cool song to teach me, and I'll be back in like fifteen minutes?"

He ducked outside before she could answer, but he could hear her tapping away at the piano keys as he yanked some dried up weeds out of the soft soil. While he worked, he pictured the sheet music that Edith kept stacked up inside the piano bench, and he started to come up with an idea. The more he thought about the pages stacked up in his own house, the more he liked his plan. 

He was all smiles when he sat down for her to teach him how to play a Bob Dylan classic, and he was still whistling the tune when he went to pick you up from work.

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

On Thursday night, Bradley had you snuggling on top of him on the couch when you should have really been going over your final plans for Career Day. "You are such a distraction," you whispered, arms and legs wrapped up with his to keep warm since you were wearing nothing but his old sweatshirt.

His fingers flexed on the back of your thigh as he smirked and turned his head to face you instead of the TV. "And you're the best for helping me relax all week." His breath was warm on your cheek, and he kissed you there, saying, "Don't stress about tomorrow. It'll be perfect."

You nuzzled your cheek against his shoulder. "I still have to put all of my guests in order. I need to schedule the most impressive presentation last, for the grand finale."

"Okay, so put me last then, Gorgeous."

You grinned and tried not to giggle. "I was actually thinking Marty."

Bradley's hand slid up from your thigh, smoothing over your butt, and you knew what was coming even before you clenched with need. Bradley smacked you one time, and you moaned as he soothed away the sting with his palm. You were instantly aroused, fingers tingling and ears burning. Bradley's dark eyes were wide, searching your face, questioning what he should do next. When you nodded once, he grunted, and that big hand landed on you again, breaking the silence.

"Fuck," you gasped, rear end stinging as Bradley cupped and squeezed you, pulling you a few inches up his body so he could kiss you. His cock was getting hard in his gym shorts, pressing against your belly, driving you wild.

"You like that?" he whispered between heated kisses, but you barely wanted to take the time to breathe.

"Yes," you replied, mouth mashing against his. Both of his hands came up to your waist, yanking the sweatshirt over your head and dropping it on the floor. Then your lips were back on his as you moaned into his mouth.

The sex had been so sweet since he got home, and neither of you could be blamed for wanting so much of it after going so long without. But this was something else. Bradley's fingers dug into your flesh, and his kisses were rough. Demanding. You spread your legs a little wider, arching your back, silently begging for him to spank you again.

He did not disappoint.

You were aching, whining his name, enthralled by the cocky smirk on his face and the possessiveness in his eyes. "You want more, Gorgeous?" he asked, voice dark as his smirk grew. When you nodded vigorously, he kissed your lips so softly before he said, "You'll schedule me last for Career Day? I think it's where I belong, since I'm the most impressive."

Oh my god. He was playing with you now. You knew he wasn't actually jealous of Marty or Nat or any of the classroom parents, but he knew that you knew that your students would always think he was the most impressive. You would, too.

When you tried to kiss him, he pulled his face away from yours as he stroked your tender rear end with his fingertips. "Yes," you promised, "I'll put you last. You're the most impressive."

"Good girl." 

You gasped as he spanked you one more time, then he kissed you before pushing you up so you were straddling his thighs. When he yanked down his gym shorts, you were treated to the sight of his cock, thick and hard, smacking against his abs.

"Clearly I think you're impressive," he grunted, licking his thumb before running it along your swollen clit. It took no more coaxing before you had your hand wrapped around his cock, guiding him right where you wanted. You sank down on him, already a mess as he thrust up into you, hard.

"Bradley!" His hands were on your breasts, cupping you as he bucked his hips up again.

"Look at you," he rasped, fucking you rough while his hands were gentle. You bounced up and down, bracing yourself awkwardly on the too small couch. "Where do you want me to touch you?" he asked, eyes glued on your face and body. "Show me."

Without hesitation, you wrapped your fingers around his right wrist and moved his hand back to your butt. "A little more," you told him, voice shaking as he fucked you so good. Then he spanked you again and again, and you could feel it everywhere as you cried out. 

It was too much and not enough, and you bit your lip as he alternated between soothing you and spanking you until you were shaking, orgasm building. "Baby, you look and feel too good like this," he whined, wrapping his hands around your hips. "I'm so close."

But you were already there. You came as you leaned down and kissed him, those big hands sliding up, stroking your shoulders and neck as gently as you were used to while your ass tingled. You were making some wild sounds as you rode him until he filled you with his cum, then the two of you were panting in unison as your forehead came to rest against his.

You could feel him smiling, mustache brushing your lips as he said, "That was fun. Didn't know you would like it so much."

You moaned and said, "I'm as surprised as you are. And I'll put you last tomorrow. You're the grand finale. Obviously."

"Obviously," he agreed. "Just keep in mind, I'll be more than happy to spank you when you give me a hard time like that again." His lips found the side of your neck, his cock was still inside you as he murmured, "Got it?"

"Oh, loud and clear."

He chuckled, nipping along your skin as your butt throbbed a bit. You didn't want to move, but his stomach started loudly growling. Carefully, you started to sit up, brushing your fingers through his hair as you said, "It's been hours since you ate. Let's find something in the kitchen."

When you stood on wobbly legs, Bradley stayed lounging on the couch, guiding you and turning you so he could place one soft kiss on the spot on your butt where he had spanked you. Then he got to his feet as well, picked up the sweatshirt, and put it back on you.

He kissed the back of your neck and told you he never wanted to leave you again while you made him a grilled cheese sandwich. "Love you too much," he muttered, hand on your thigh as his leg brushed your tender rear end.

You thought about the weeks he was deployed without communication and how awful it was, but this right here was worth it. Making love in bed and rough sex on the couch. Learning what makes each other tick and sharing meals and enjoying how good it feels to have him hold you. All worth it.

When the sandwich was ready, you cut it into four triangles and took a small bite out of one before holding it up for him to eat it. "Thanks, Baby," he whispered, finishing it in one bite before you fed him the second one and then the third in similar fashion. He was finishing the last piece when he wrapped his arms around you and said, "Okay, Gorgeous, now I'm ready to help you get organized for Career Day before bed."

You laughed. "I just need to write a few things down and pick out an outfit."

"Oh. I wouldn't wear anything too tight," he suggested, smirking once more. "You're about to be sore tomorrow."

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

Okay, Maverick. Okay. Career Day is up next, and I need something nice to be there for Marty. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[tiredsmashbros]

SMG34: LIPBITE COMIC WIP UPDATE

oh boy... i know a bunch of folks are hyped for this comic... and boy oh boy are ya'll's prayers going to be heard... kind of... butt for the celebration milestone, and granted majority are from this comic, i thought it was best to give EVERYTHING that i have currently.

starting off STRONG with what you freaks most want: the completed pages. andddd yep that's it that all that i have done LMAO. i've been fixated on my own smg4 oc: tsb, and during the end of my summer was unfortunately fucked over by some personal issues that fortunately got resolved last minute good grief the anxiety prevented me from drawing the gays sigh... aNYWAYS LINEART WIPS!!!!

here are linearts i have completed / in the progress of!! want to aim like i did in the past by finishing up lineart first, and then speed through with color + minor rendering. the reason i have a few colored is to test out what it would look polished and my god... i have improved A LOT. THESE GAY PEOPLE GIVE POWER I AM NOT KIDDING BELIEVE ME IM NOT CRAY- anyways onto wip pages!

jumpscare: tsb stickman sketches. oh yeah. this is how i sketch and i blame sensei eiichiro oda /j. and in case anyone is unable to understand it {i don't blame u LMAO}, smg4 wakes up from the dream and is startled to see mario by his bed. they have a short convo before mario leaves, and we get a job to smg4 in the bathroom trying to put up a brave face. until the moment he leaves he's stunned due to seeing smg3 at his front door. will i elaborate more on specifics or unwritten dialogue? NOPE! gotta keep secrets to make it even more enjoyable at the end!!

currently at 13 sketched pages total, but this is probably gonna be reaching towards 20-ish pages, surpassing part two, but it will depend on how i come up with how to end it. additionally to confirm there will be a PART FOUR / chapter 3, to end this story. my goal is to have it done before i finish my senior year, or at least during the summer after i graduate bc good lord who knows whats gonna happen.

and lastly, before i end this crazy update, SCRAPPED PAGESSS!!!!!

CONTENT WARNING : NSFW SKETCHES !!!! PLEASE LOOK AWAY IF YOU ARE A MINOR OR DON'T LIKE THIS TYPE OF STUFF!!!

oh boy... dont draw comics while sleep-deprived at 6am... idek what i was even aiming with this ngl other than just for fun, but i scrapped it due to not being what i had in mind for the story. if it doesn't serve a purpose or narrative, its bye bye YEAH BYE BYE THIS IS THE CLOSEST NSFW UR GONNA GET FROM ME HAHAHAHAHA- i say that despite writing a nsfw jojo wattpad smh im only confident doing it in words good lord. btw not watermarking these bc i gen don't care since they're legit scrapped {left top part was kept and completed} so idk what to do with these. im just throwing it and walkin away

now to end with this update, i can hear your question, "when will this be done?" and to answer that question: i'm not entirely sure due to my heavy focus on my smg4 oc: tsb, but my best chance is postponing my oc lore a bit and complete this before november UOIYGJDSIUHJKDWSXYUGHJKCS but we shall have too see...

if you want to join the ping list comment on this post LMAO [click]

ignore below if you're not from the tsb birthday partydddjdhdhdjd

...

...

...

thurs: smg34 is canon in the tsb universe / au. though most of their encounters are platonic or best-friendy-way, they eventually express their feelings to one another and start dating 3/4’s way of the tsb storyline arc. tsb is a supporter of his friend's relationship and admires and takes inspiration from their relationship heavily to input his future love life. yearning to be in a similar position... to learn what is to really love someone... or what it's truly like to be loved...

[lilacgaby]

title: fairy tale

✩pairing: dragonking!katsuki bakugo x tinkerbell!fem reader

lover or best friend? you two couldn't help but to blur the lines.

summary: katsuki's life had been flipped onto its head, who knew some pixie dust was all he needed?

princes weren't to be excluded from the rest of the village kids.

that's how his parents ruled, they believed that a humble king would be a good king, and that to teach humility would be ensuring the prosperity of their kingdom for generations to come.

unfortunately it didn't really stick with katsuki, who had all the village kid praising him as early as age five. everyone would congratulate him on being so cool, so strong, so smart, such a prince.

until izuku was found to have the king of another kingdom's blood running through him.

being lied to was something katsuki hated even at that young age of seven. he hated not heing in the know, and to have his rival, who he'd race in sport, in magic practice, even at lunch lie to him? to have him in reality be his equal?

it was too much, so he escaped to the hidden area of the royal gardens he'd stumbled upon once.

he let the tears fall freely there, his head in his knees as he rocked back and forth. the rushing of water the only noise he heard accompanied by his crying.

he felt the feeling of something landing on his knee, instinctually he jumped and moved to swat it, making the 'thing' hang to his leg.

he heard the noise of a bell ringing and when he looked down he saw..

a fairy. a real life fairy? he must've been dreaming. they weren't real, just a tale told of time. but as you were there, dandelion-sized and pouting at him, hands stuck your sides as you looked at him adorably,

he knew you were real.

he kept hearing the sound of jingles come from your mouth. from his expression, he saw that something suddenly clicked in your head. you mouthed, "oh.. duh!" and smacked your forehead before sprinkling some glittery thing all over you, and moving to sprinkle it onto him as well.

he felt like he was floating, because he was. "agh! woah!" he exclaimed, moving about only a couple inches of the ground.

"can you hear me now crying boy?" he heard the fairy say, no malice behind their words.

"i-i can hear you." he said, before letting out a surprised "umpf" at the sensation of being dropped back onto the ground.

you landed back on his knee, but this time he noticed a somber expression on your small face as well.

"u-uh. what's wrong fairy.. girl?"

"it's [name].. and.. i lost my hollow. i think they had to leave without me." you said dejectedly, hiccuping slightly between your words.

"so, can i stay with you crying boy?"

he wiped the last of his tears off his face, before scopping you up in his hands. "it's not crying boy, it's katsuki. and yeah, i'll take care of you."

at the news, you did a happy spin in the palm of his hand. "thank you cr- katsuki!"

he carried you around in his pockets all day. he'd poke holes in his expensive cloths just so you could see what he was doing and talk to him. he had shown you to izuku on accident once, him catching katsuki in the act of feeding you maple syrup from his morning breakfast.

as you spoke, even though katsuki could hear the actual words.. "kacchan, does your doll have a bell in it?" nobody else could hear you.

"it's not a doll, get out deku!"

you grew up alongside katsuki, always on his shoulder or his hand, staying close to him because he felt like home personified to you.

and for him, you were his rock. to think someone as small and fragile as you held his deepest secrets, wants, desires, nightmares and all was funny, but he loved you despite it.

for your birthdays he'd get you a new fresh flower to make a dress out of, and for his birthday you'd make him a map with all the best treasure troves you remembered on it.

at night, he'd made you a tiny makeshift bed that he'd lay close to his pillow, the small snores and yawns you'd make in your sleep becoming his lullaby.

the first crowning trial he went on with you. you two were walking-- well you were laid on his shoulder, and he was ranting about how annoying everyone was and how easy this was going to be. "that damn deku loves mocking me, can you believe he sent a letter asking to go on this trail together?"

"are you sure he wasn't just trying to be nice?"

"nice? you don't know the first thing about humans name, he wrote a smiley face at the end of the letter- a smiley face!"

"isn't that a nice thing to do?"

"between friends yeah, but rivals like us? that's like putting a coal down my back."

"oh." you pondered out loud, looking at the sky thoughtfully.

"besides, who needs his help when i have you. all we have to do is find that shitty egg, hatch it, and bring that dragon back. easy as pie."

"but we don't know how to hatch it! nobodies hatched one of those eggs for years! weren't you listening??" you said, now jumping down to fly in front of his face.

"yeah, yeah, but those past guys were me, and they didn't have an awesome fairy like i do." he remarked, stopping to let you lay in his hand.

"damn straight!" you high fived with his pinkie as you continued the journey.

the journey was about a month to get to the mountains, at night you two would have campfires, in day you'd continue moving west while he simultaneously looked for small food for you and charred random boars for him.

he'd managed to find a pixie tree one day, you were so excited as you dragged him to the pool of it, covering him in the dust as he flew with you for he first time. he stayed up there with you for a surprisingly long time, the scared expression on his face as he moved off the ground with you grabbing him by the finger was so funny to you. your laughs reached his ears and made his face scrunch up in annoyance.

with you pulling him around, you covered a lot of ground that day, the signs of the fairy dust running out made you set him on the ground, his legs still wobbly from the experience.

"that was.. weird."

"not fun? you're so boring katsuki!"

"where's my coat??"

"...

i'll go get it.."

the rest of the journey was easy.. if katsuki ignored the hawk that just snatched you out of the sky at the base of the mountain.

you screamed, preparing yourself for your fate as.. the hawk was burnt to a crisp in the sky, falling to the floor with you still in its talons.

"katsuki! you saved me."

"yeah, couldn't have them taking you. you're staying in here from now on." he placed you on his shoulder, tucking one of your legs under his necklace.

"right." you said saluting.

he treked up the mountain, it was tall so the air was getting thin as you two went up. he saw the cavern across the way, they finally had made it.

"let's go." he said, as if you had a choice while being on his shoulder. he walked in, greeted by the site of a dragon's skeleton, and a single, humongous gold egg.

the egg had to have been.. at least bakugo's height. when katsuki used a bit of his fire he saw the dragon inside. since it's been there since the last kings reign..

it had to be 18 too? no wonder it was huge.

"that's a big dragon, how're ya gonna hatch it?" you asked, flying on top of it.

"pfft, i'll figure it out. maybe those assholes before me weren't smart or strong enough."

"right.. well go ahead."

- - -

he tried until the sun went down.

nothing worked. hell he even tried asking it nicely, all to have you laugh when it didn't work. "fuck this and damn you, you damn.. fairy!"

in his anger he threw his coat, which sent the small satchel of your fairy dust flying onto the egg. in panic, katsuki jumped to keep it on the floor.

"what the--" is all he said before the egg started to crack. no. it was hatching?

you flew over observing the situation, katsuki jumped back when a particularly large piece of egg cracked off, and the dragon inside started to move.

"ack!" she flew behind katsuki's head as the dragon jumped out with a confused, "huh?"

...

"i did it! im the king now! hey dragon! you're coming with me!" katsuki said victoriously, in his own little happy world as you flew over to the dragon.

"hi dragon guy, im [name]."

"you're small."

"duh im a fairy, anyways what's your name?"

"oh.. i think it was eijiro kirishima."

she pulled his finger, leading him out the remnants of his shell. "you wanna come with us eijiro? you'll get to be a dragon knight i think."

"cool! i'm in!...

what's a knight though?"

she smacked her head, "ah, i'll explain it later. put these on and let's go kat--" the sight of katsuki sleeping on the floor made her realize how tired he was.

"uh, let's stay here for the night actually, i'll catch you up on all the cool stuff about the world."

"okay!"

you talked all night to the curious dragon, explaining the ins and outs of his future life, your role in katsuki's life, and about your adventures that you'd surely go on.

"hey [name]."

"yes?"

"uh, so kings they have queens right? who's katsuki's queen? is it you?"

you jumped. "ah! no way. he'll.. he'll probably get one when he goes back though." you said, realization setting in as you spoke.

"you don't sound very happy [name]."

with a tight-lipped smile as you rested your head on your hand, you whispered, "i'm not happy at all, actually."

you two went to sleep after that, you suddenly felt tired for some reason. though you know you shouldn't have felt so possessive over katsuki anyways.

you'd developed a crush over him for forever. but you'd have to see him go, see him leave with another.

your fists clenched the leaf covering you,

you couldn't stand it.

the journey started out livelier than normal for katsuki. he'd been listening to the damn dragon's rambling for half a day now, at least he was a natural born hunter. he noticed you being a bit more quiet than usual, he thought you were taking a nap on his shoulder but you were awake, staring between your two legs.

"hey, [name]. what's up with you?"

"yeah [name]! you're so quiet."

you snapped out of your daze, a polite smile on your lips. "ah! it's nothing, just uh-- hungry i guess. and tired, i don't have any dust left."

"well you should've said that earlier. we can get some tomorrow morning." he knew you were lying, but he didn't want to press you with the dragon around. he'd ask you when you two got back to the castle.

the rest of the month passed by like that. he had grown fond of the new dragon that'd serve to be his personal knight, he was dedicated, strong, but just so talkative.

you were spaced out often, waving off his concerns with a limp hand. hiding in his cape as they entered the kingdom.

they were greeted with celebrations all round, it seems news had traveled quickly of the dragon. back pats and smiles were all that greeted bakugo as he walked up to his parents.

with a tearful gaze, his father placed the crown upon his head. "you are now king katsuki. your official coronation is tomorrow but.. we wanted to do this with you personally."

"you finally did some good kid, now comes the hard part. you'll need to pick a wife tomorrow."

the air was zapped out of his and your lungs. "hell no, i'm not choosing shi--"

"yes you are, or you can hand that crown over right now. we're having inko get some of the towns most gorgeous women and some eligible princesses are coming to visit. you will choose someone by the end of the night. congratulations son, you're a king now."

he tsked. "whatever. let's go dragon face." as kirishima followed him out, he led him to a room connected to his. "this is your room, i'll get you tomorrow morning. go to sleep."

"yes sir! wow he's so manly." he said before walking inside and verbally gasping at the room.

"you, come out already. " he said, pulling his cape off and laying it on his bed. you were teary eyed as you sat cross legged. "what's up with you? you've been weird this whole trip?"

"it's nothing."

"it's not nothing, you've been ignoring me and i'm pissed off already. tell the truth already."

your feelings were about to burst, your tears already free falling down your face. "be quiet." you whispered.

"no i don't think i will, because you'll just keep sitting here and ignoring me!"

"i love you! and i shouldn't because it'd never work!" she cried. a moment of silence passes. "i-im leaving."

"to where? hey- where are you going?"

"i don't know."

she flew, the only sight he had of her being her moonlit wings as she disappeared out of his sight.

he couldn't believe it.

he couldn't believe his feelings were reciprocated. he fell asleep to the thoughts of you, and he woke up still preoccupied.

as they prepared him for the ceremony, dousing him in jewels and diamonds, all he could think about was you.

as he walked to his throne where he'd sit until he found a bride, all he thought off was you.

and as they placed the crown on his head, all he thought of was how he'd never be here without your help.

as he stood around in a corner, princesses and village women occasionally attempting to start up conversations with him only to be let down by his cold nature, he thought about if you'd show up.

you'd been by his side for 18 years, he swore it was your birthday today too. he had picked out a flower perfect for you, just like he always did.

but now he wouldn't even get to see you, he thought, fist tightening on his slacks. eijiro had knocked on his shoulder, asking him to go out with him to the gardens for a second. he agreed and walked over.. where.. you were standing there.

only now you were human-sized, an angelically white dress encapsulated you as you stood by the waterfall. your wings were big and shiny as you finally noticed him, smiling.

"katsuki. you look- pfft. handsome." you joked. oh yeah, his hair was slicked down. he walked over to you, taking your hand into his for the first time.

"[name]? it's really you?"

"mhm, cmon." she led him to the secret garden where they'd first met.

"how--"

"i could always turn myself this big, it just takes a bit."

"..about what you said earlier. i..

i love you too [name]." katsuki said, averting his eyes from you but holding your hand tightly. "as a small fairy or as an equal to me.. i-- i really do care about you. i never could've done this without you.

so, uh.."

"just kiss me."

and he did so, the flowers being witness to both of your first kisses.

he felt like he was on cloud nine, never imagining this day would have ended so joyfully, with you by his side.

and with you now officially ruling next to his.

(tagging people i think would enjoy this very much: @kovu-bunnbunn @napbatata @elarakive )

[rqnarok]

MOTIVE | dark!old man!logan x fem!reader

summary: strangers-with-benefits!old man!logan punishes you out of his jealousy.

content warnings/tags: smut! mdni. porn with little plot. old man!logan. unspecified age gap. dom!logan. sub!reader. possessive & jealous logan. pet names (kid, kiddo, little girl, etc). unprotected p in v. heavy breeding kink. barely proofread. wc: 2,6k 

You didn’t think Logan would care—or notice, even. 

This thing between you and him has been going on for months now. He picks you up from the diner you’re working at, drives you home (his house), then fucks you stupid throughout the after-hours. 

The sex is everything you have craved for, really, “Ya’ need a real man to do this shit, huh?” A real man who does all the work and stuffs you up with his cock until you’re only speaking in high-pitched whines.

But aside from that fact, something is missing. Something your big heart always had craved, something he failed to fill.

The lack of attention and affection.

Outside intercourses, he barely talks to you. He departs from the bed after every time you fall asleep—or when he thinks that you’re already asleep. Sometimes, he takes you back to your house in the morning, sometimes he just leaves you in his vacant residence. 

All bare and worn out.

You’d rest your head on his chest in the dim room, drawing shapes on his naked skin, “I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong.” 

The tips of his fingers subtly stroke the crown of your head, a light touch you can barely feel, “Go t’sleep, kid.”  

It’s too unstable and lacks consistency.

That is when you start talking, well specifically, messaging, a friend of a friend, someone around your age. You are not even attracted to him but he’s nice. He gives you attention and affection you hardly even register. But hey, you just want your big heart loaded up. No one can ever blame you.

What you didn’t know is that Logan notices everything. He notices how you start to sleep more later than usual, playing with your phone for a while. How your lips curve upwards at the glowy screen when you thought that he already left the room. Making him utter a question into the cold air, “What’re you lookin’ at?” 

Strangled, your phone falls into the sheets that cover your bare form, “N-nothing, really. Just texting my girlfriends.”

And Logan knows you’re fuckin’ lying right to his face. Because he remembers you told him one time in the beginning: “Sometimes I feel lonely at night. None of my friends are a night owl like me, y’know?” He fuckin’ remembers it all. 

On a random Friday, he decided he had known enough. He drives his way to your diner and there you are. Sitting too close to his liking with some fuckin’ boy; the way those giggles left your lips makes his stomach turn. 

You didn’t know that he was sitting in his car the whole time because he never visited you on a Friday night: “Gotta do somethin’” 

But there he was, gripping the steering wheel too tightly his knuckles turned white. Muttering curse after curse under his heavy breath. Playing over the last few weeks and trying to find what went sideways. But something always went sideways with him. 

He had hoped you would understand that his aloofness was merely a product of his scars and the long life he had lived. But now, seeing you in your apron whilst smiling at another man and pouring Logan's favorite black coffee—he wished he hadn’t been so cold towards you. 

What would he do without you? What would he do if you decided that you didn’t want some old man n’picked that boy? He shakes his head lightly, no, Logan needs you. 

The thought of you leaving him makes him fucking sick and he decided to do something ‘bout it.  

By something, he means having you on his bed, naked and splayed bare in front of him as he laps up and down your dripping pussy. 

“Pussy loves me so much, huh?” Logan murmurs as he squeezes your thighs that clamped around his neck, making you hum a mhmm to the pillow beside you.

Logan’s thick fingers eagerly stroke your clit while he continues licking your folds, earning soft mewls as your head tilts back in pleasure, “Ah- ‘M so close..!” 

“Doin’ so good for your old man.” You’re moaning and gripping his greying hair while you squirm on the sheets, rolling your hips down on his face.

You were so so so close to getting your orgasm before he abruptly pulled away and stood back up on his feet. Taking you by surprise. Delaying you. 

“W-what?”  Your head is still overflowing with your high when you watch him drape his way into the nearest armchair and put on his glasses as he reaches for today’s newspaper. As if he didn’t just have his tongue deep inside you a minute ago. 

Just as you try to catch your breath, you slowly get up in a sitting position to gape at him with your flushed cheeks and aroused body. You were so close and you need him back now. 

After a minute, you begin to notice how he grips the newsprint too tensely, how his brows furrowed and his nose wrinkled, how he keeps clenching his jaw on repeat, and how he looks furious and grumpy.

Something’s up. 

“L-Logan?” You call out to him. He clenched his jaw one more time until he could not contain his anger anymore. 

He takes off his glasses in a harsh tug and stares directly at you, “Are you fuckin’ him?” 

The way he looks at you sends electricity into your core, you feel like a deer caught in a headlight, “W-wha—who are you talking about?”

When he gets up from his seat, you can see the bulge on his pants, his stare still burning into you as if a predator catching its prey, “Fuck. That fuckin’ boy from the diner. Did ya’ let him touch what’s mine?” 

Oh. 

Oh.

He’s talking about your ‘friend of a friend’. How did he find that out? You began to wonder in silence. 

You gulp as he gets closer and closer into the bed, making you push your back onto the headboard subconsciously, “Oh- no, no, he— he’s just a friend, Logan.”

He isn’t satisfied with that answer, you know this because the bed squeaks out a creaking sound when he gets his whole weight on the bed, latching and trapping you, “Ya’ thought about leaving me, kiddo?” He rumbles as he squishes your face cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, looking at you sternly as if he’s scolding a misbehaved child, “Thought about leavin’ you old man?”

“N-no!  Never!—” You’re being honest! You would never leave him…you just needed a little more. By sensing his rage that radiates the entire room, you try your best to stare back at him with your doe-eyes, a look that never fails to weaken down his knees.

Then, you build up the courage to cradle his face with your soft palms and stroke his beard, focusing on the greying parts. “Just a friend, Logan. ‘Would never leave you.” Your voice comes out as a whisper but it successfully eases him down. You can hear his breath steadying after a while. 

He closes his eyes as he lurks forward towards you, greedily locking his lips onto yours, “Was so fuckin’ mad.” As he pulls away to mumble, you keep pampering kisses on his face—to assure him that you do want him and him only. 

He pulls down his pants and lets his cock spring free to his stomach. A sight of pre-cum on his heavy tip and the grith of his fat cock makes you cry out. 

Logan trails his hands from your face down and down until he reaches your pussy. It’s still as wet as he delayed it a few moments ago. His calloused finger probes at your entrance, making you whimper into his mouth. 

“This is all f’me, little girl?” He keeps teasing your folds in one hand while pinching your peaking nipples with his other hand. All while still looking at you oh, so hungrily. 

“Y-yes! All for you. No one else—” You fail to finish your sentence when he enters one finger into your heat, placing kisses on your collarbones and mumbling mhmm onto your skin.

You can’t hold it anymore since he delayed your orgasm earlier—you’d do anything, “Pleasepleaseplease, need’a cum, please!” 

The squelching sound of his finger moving in and out, in and out of your cunt didn’t help either. You’re staring at him lust-filled and dumbfounded; you wish he could just read your mind.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby.” He removes his finger and brings it to his mouth, swirling it around his tongue to savor you, “Tastes so sweet too.” 

“Where d’ya want me?”

You whimper pathetically at his words while making grabby hands at him. “I-inside, pleasepleas—” At this point, you don’t even know what you’re begging for.

In fact, you don’t even know anything…

“Don’t got any rubber, kid. Can’t fuck you, y’know?” Logan is fucking a liar. He threw all the condoms he had into the trash bin this morning for this sole purpose. You mumbles a small ‘wha’ into his face because he delays you over and over just for him to delay you again? 

No, no, no—you gotta have him now. 

You look at him like he’s the only man - like nothing matters but him and he’s making you furrow your brows in sadness, in desperation. 

So then,

“I-it’s okay… you can- still-if you want to. I’ll let you.” 

Bingo. 

Just how Logan wants this to go. Because again, out of your awareness, this is how Logan punishes you. For making him so jealous he can barely get any sleep, for pulling away from him the entire week that he can only jerk his cock off to your pink ribboned panties (the one that you left on his house), and for making him think about you every second he’s awake because you’re his air.

He was so fucking pissed—but now, he feels that he had won already. 

“Mhm, no can do, princess. Don’t wan’ you to regret it.” Your face fell into disappointment, can’t he see how much you want this? How much you need him? “‘S alright, yeah?” He says and earns a whiny protest from you. 

Tears begin to build up in your eyes as you stutter over your words. All you’ve got is sobs because you’re so overwhelmed by everything that’s happened tonight. You can only call out his name, trying to get his attention and affection. 

“Logan.” You’re squirming on the bed, wrapping your legs around his hips, pressing his body against yours— making him pull an indifferent look to continue on his act.  

“Next time, alright, kiddo?” He kisses the tip of your nose as a decoy. 

“N-no! Now! Please, Logan. Now, please—” You move your hips upwards and make his tip kiss your wetness. He begins to lose his composure when you wrap your small fingers around his cock. Logan grunts and lurches forward because he’s just an old man who needs you. There’s little he can do.

“Wan’ you inside…” You whisper breathlessly as you move your hands up and down on him the way he loves it, “‘S okay, Dada, I promise.” Your thumb swirls around his cockhead before bringing him closer and closer to where you want him until the tip pushes inside your aching folds, “‘Just pull out, okay?” 

Logan grins at you, showing his wrinkles. Oh, he won’t pull out. He knows he won’t. 

This is the climax of his ‘punishment’. Yes, he’s a bad man, the worst kind of man. But this is his only way to keep you, don’t you see? To make sure you won’t leave him, to make sure shit like yesterday won’t happen again. 

He bumps his nose into yours and kisses your forehead, “Y’sure, baby?” 

And you just let out a ‘yes’ because you just need him so so so badly. He nudges forward, in in in, until he’s buried inside of you—then he kisses your lips again. It’s so hot because he has never fucked you like this before, so raw and deep. After feeling your velvety walls, he knows he will never let you go. 

He starts a cruel pace and jolts you; your cute tits jiggle every time he thrusts inside—he’s sure that you’re made for him, to be with him. Put on this place to be his pretty baby and to have his baby. 

“Ya’ll let that boy do this to ya? Mm?” You shake your head rapidly at his question, hoping he’ll understand. And he does. “T-Tha’ right. Pussy’s glad to see me - loves me.” 

Your eyes squeezed so tight but he can’t stop, not when you’re squelching ‘round him and gripping him as if he’d disappear, “My good little girl - fuck - fuckin’ love you.” He confessed while burying his face on your neck and the only thing he has on his mind is puttin’ a baby in you.

It’s the truth: he loves you. More than anything–more than himself. He just doesn’t know how to show it in a normal way.

He thrusts and thrusts and thrusts—your moan gets louder and louder and louder. Logan takes your hands, interlinking your fingers together and kissing your knuckles.

You make these pathetic little noises, ah ah ahs, and he knows you’re close. Now is the time to do his final act, “Y’know why it feels so good, kid? 

He touching you everywhere: pinching your nipples and holding you by your throat,  “‘S ‘cause you’re fucking a real man, baby.”

“Y-yeah! Jus’ need a man—need you—” Logan nearly cums right there and then when he sees how tears stream down your cheeks as you look up at him in pure admiration—like you worship him. Again, just the way he wanted it.

Your shaky voice as a newborn fawn reminds him what he’s here for, what his punishment is to you.

“F-fuck. Gonna pull out soon, darlin’”

What? It’s too soon for you and your vice grip somehow manages to get stronger around him. He can barely withdraw before you squeeze your walls so deliciously and wrap your legs tighter; ankles locking his hips onto yours.  

“N-no! Don’t- don’t go anywhere— Staystaysta—” Logan sighs in relief. You ate up all his acts. It’s working. 

His palms move to your waist to work himself deeper in you, hitting that gummy spot that he knows will make you sob.

“Wha’dya mean no? Logan asks, “D-don’t wanna knock you up, kiddo.” Oh, but he does! He does. He does. “Gotta pull out. You don’t want that, ‘kay?” 

“I-I do! I do.” You finally plead to him with your soft voice. “I wan’ it..” 

Logan can’t last any second longer but it’s okay because you’re so close to getting to where he wants you.

He snarls a ‘Fuck’ under his breath and, “Gonna get ya’ pregnant, sweets.” His mouth gets to your neck and starts leaving dark bruises on your silky skin, “S’that what you want? My baby, hm?” 

“Yeah.” You squeak up while meeting down his thrusts, “Yeahyeahyea—gimme a baby.” You continue your mindless babble, your brain is empty except for the thoughts of him. “Fill me up, fill me up…” It’s becoming a plea. 

“I’ll fill you up, sweet girl.”

And he’s gone. Lips latching onto yours as you both reach ecstasy. Logan fucks you through it—fucks his seed so deep in you so it fuckin’ takes.

He wished he’d feel guilty as a sick old man for ruining you and your life—but here you are, milking him for all he’s got and telling him that you love him too.

You’re gorgeously unaware that he’s punishing you the entire time; you’re too fucked up when he’s spilling warm ropes of his cum on your walls. He pulls out slowly, staring at the white strings that gush out of your wet hole before plugging himself to make sure it takes.

Logan thinks everything’s fine because he’s got his assurance:  that you’re never going to leave him—that now you’re fully his—and that he has won. 

[lxvsiick]

SINK INTO THE MEMORY | HAN TAESAN X READER

PAIRING: sunshine protector! han taesan x sunshine! fem! reader

SUMMARY: Taesan feels the need to protect his ball of sunshine, Y/n.

GENRE: sunshine and sunshine protector, imagine, fluff

WORDCOUNT: 3.9k

A/N: A Taesan fluff imagine because I keep giving him angst imagines . . . LOL! Inspired by another BOYNEXTDOOR Taesan self composed song -- SINK INTO THE MEMORY ,, man he's so talented it makes me cry

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

The sun hung low in the afternoon sky, casting golden light over the playground. The sound of children's laughter filled the air, but on the far side of the park, Y/n sat alone on the swing, kicking her legs to gain height, her tiny hands gripping the chains. At just six years old, she was already a little ball of energy, always smiling, always friendly. She hummed to herself as she swung higher, her eyes bright with the joy of a carefree afternoon.

Suddenly, a group of kids, a mix of her age and older, approached her with narrowed eyes. One of the older boys stepped forward and shoved her hard, knocking her off the swing. She landed with a soft thud in the sand, her hands stinging from the fall.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, her face scrunching up in confusion. "You didn’t have to push me! I was almost done, you could’ve waited your turn!"

The group of kids ignored her words, laughing as they claimed the swing for themselves. One of the older girls sneered at her. "Who cares? It’s ours now."

Y/n stood up, brushing the sand off her knees, and stomped her foot. "That’s not fair!"

The group started to move toward her, their tone shifting from playful to aggressive, and for the first time, she looked nervous.

That’s when he appeared.

Han Taesan, also six years old, had been watching from a distance. Though he was known as a "troublemaker" by his parents and the other adults around, he wasn’t bad—he just didn’t follow the rules like everyone wanted him to. Seeing the group ganging up on her, something stirred inside him. He walked up to them without hesitation, his little fists balled at his sides.

"Leave her alone," he said firmly, his voice steady despite his small size.

One of the boys from the group turned to him, sizing him up. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Taesan didn’t flinch. He pushed the boy hard enough to make him stumble back. "I said, leave her alone."

The group exchanged uncertain glances. They had heard about him—how he wasn’t afraid of getting into trouble. It was enough to make them think twice.

"Whatever," one of the kids muttered, turning away. "We were done here anyway."

As the group scattered, Y/n stood there, watching the whole thing in awe. She wiped at her cheeks, where a few frustrated tears had started to form. Instead of crying, though, she smiled brightly at her protector, her eyes sparkling with gratitude.

"Thank you!" she beamed, bouncing on her toes. "That was really brave of you."

He shrugged, kicking at the sand as if it wasn’t a big deal. "It’s nothing. They were being mean."

Y/n, still glowing with her usual sunshine-like energy, dug into her small backpack and pulled out a crinkly bag of snacks. "Want some?" she offered, holding the bag out to him.

Surprised, he blinked at her before slowly taking a piece. "Thanks," he mumbled.

And just like that, they sat down in the sandbox together, munching on snacks as if they had been friends forever. Y/n chatted away, her voice bubbling with excitement, while Taesan listened quietly, a small but genuine smile creeping onto his face. He hadn’t planned on making a friend that day, but now, with her by his side, it didn’t seem so bad.

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the classroom windows, casting a warm glow over the desks. Taesan, now 17, sat at his desk, his headphones snug over his ears as music pulsed through them. He absentmindedly tapped his fingers on the table to the beat, his gaze wandering toward the door, half-lost in the melody.

That’s when he spotted her.

Y/n was passing by his classroom, a tall stack of books in her arms. She was struggling to balance them, her steps wobbly, barely able to see over the top of the pile. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she shuffled down the hallway, clearly in over her head.

With a small sigh, he pulled off his headphones and placed them on his desk. Without a second thought, he stood up, leaving his classroom and slipping out into the hallway. He didn’t need to think twice—he couldn’t just sit there and watch her struggle like that.

Catching up to her with quick strides, he reached out and grabbed the stack of books from her arms. The sudden movement made her jump in surprise, her bright eyes widening as she turned to face him.

"Oh!" she gasped, her voice soft. "You scared me!"

Taesan gave her a small smirk, adjusting the books in his arms with ease. "Why are you carrying all of this by yourself?" he asked, his tone low but laced with concern. "Isn’t the vice class representative supposed to help with stuff like this?"

Y/n blinked at him, her face flushing slightly. She offered him one of her signature bright smiles, the kind that always made it hard for anyone to be mad at her.

"I volunteered to do it," she said softly, her voice sweet but firm. "I didn’t want to bother anyone else. Junho was busy."

He glanced at her, eyebrow raised. He knew her better than that—she had a habit of not asking for help, always shouldering the burden on her own. He didn’t buy her explanation, not one bit. But instead of pressing her on it, he simply sighed and shifted the weight of the books in his arms.

Y/n noticed the look on his face, the way his brows knitted together in quiet disbelief. Letting out a small giggle, she nudged him gently with her elbow.

"It’s fine now," she said, her smile widening. "You’re here to help me, aren’t you?"

He stared at her for a moment, then let out a soft huff of amusement. "Yeah, yeah, I guess so."

Without another word, the two of them continued walking down the hallway together, her steps now light and carefree without the heavy stack of books. Taesan walked beside her, still holding the books, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. She was always like this—too kind, too independent. But he didn’t mind helping. Not when it came to her.

As they walked, the quiet warmth between them settled in, the kind of comfort that came from years of knowing each other, from the unspoken understanding they always seemed to share. Even without saying much, they were always in sync.

And despite the heavy books in his arms, Taesan couldn’t help but feel a little lighter as they made their way down the hallway together.

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

The late afternoon sun cast a soft glow over the college campus, the sound of chatter and footsteps filling the air. Taesan walked on the side with his four friends, his headphones snug over his ears as they laughed and talked around him. Though their conversations flowed easily, he was in his own world, the beat of the music steady in his ears.

That’s when he saw her.

Y/n was across the quad, her expression tired and frantic, her fingers flying over her phone’s screen as if typing a million thoughts at once. Even from a distance, he could see the tension in her posture, the way her shoulders hunched forward as she moved quickly, almost nervously.

With a small frown, Taesan pulled off his headphones, letting them rest around his neck. He paused mid-step, eyes fixed on her, then glanced at his friends. "You guys go ahead," he said, his voice calm but distracted.

His friends exchanged glances, then shrugged and waved him off as they continued on their way. He didn’t waste another moment, cutting across the campus to catch up with her.

"Y/n!" he called out, raising his voice just enough to get her attention.

Y/n’s head jerked up at the sound of her name, her eyes wide and slightly panicked. As soon as she saw him, she quickly turned away, looking down and wiping at her face. But it was too late—he had already seen the glimmer of tears in her eyes.

His heart clenched.

"What’s wrong?" he asked softly, stepping closer to her.

"It’s nothing," she mumbled, her voice shaky, refusing to meet his gaze.

He let out a quiet sigh, knowing her well enough to understand when she wasn’t telling the full truth. Without a word, he gently took her hand, ignoring her weak protest as he led her toward a quiet bench tucked away from the busy part of campus. The area was mostly empty, the hum of campus life just a distant noise now.

They sat down, Y/n still clutching her phone tightly, her eyes darting around as if she didn’t want to face him. He watched her for a moment, her normally bright expression clouded with stress and sadness.

"So," he said softly, turning toward her, "are you going to tell me what’s really going on?"

She bit her lip, her fingers tightening around her phone, her brows furrowed as if trying to keep everything inside. For a moment, she didn’t say anything, her throat working as she held back the tears.

"Is it the group project?" he pressed gently, his voice quiet and careful.

Her silence was all the confirmation he needed. After a beat, she gave a small nod, not looking at him, her lips trembling. His eyes softened, and he felt a pang of sympathy. He knew she had been struggling with this project for a while, dealing with uncooperative group members and mounting stress.

"I’ll talk to them," he said, his tone firm. "They can’t just leave all the work to you."

"No!" she blurted out, her voice cracking. She shook her head quickly, finally meeting his gaze with watery eyes. "Don’t do that. It’s fine. I—I’m just a little stressed. I don’t want to bother anyone about it."

His jaw tightened. "It’s a group project. You shouldn’t be doing all the work by yourself."

Her frown deepened as she stared at him, her eyes pleading. "Please," she whispered, her voice trembling with exhaustion. "Let me handle it. I can do it, really."

He looked at her, the determination mixed with vulnerability in her gaze, and felt his resolve weakening. He hated seeing her like this, but he knew better than to push her when she was already so overwhelmed. With a long, resigned sigh, he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease just a little.

"Fine," he said quietly, his voice softer now. "But promise me you’ll ask for help if it gets too much. You can’t do everything by yourself."

She gave him a big, grateful smile, the weight of her exhaustion still heavy in her eyes, but at least the panic had ebbed away a little. "I will," she whispered, though they both knew she was too stubborn to ask.

He didn’t press further, instead reaching out to give her hand a comforting squeeze. As they sat there in silence, the weight of the world seemed to lift just a little from her shoulders, knowing that—at the very least—she wasn’t completely alone.

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

The library was quiet, the soft hum of overhead lights barely noticeable against the silence. Taesan pushed open the door, scanning the tables until his eyes landed on a familiar figure—Y/n. She was sitting alone, her head resting on the table, arms tucked under her cheek as if she'd collapsed into sleep.

He hesitated for a moment, taking in the sight of her, clearly exhausted. Walking over, he set his bag down quietly and slid into the chair next to her. Her laptop was still open, the screen displaying a half-finished document.

Taesan glanced at her, making sure she was still asleep. He could see the strain she’d been under from the deep circles under her eyes. Without a second thought, he reached for the laptop. Scrolling through the document, he realized she had been struggling with her group project—yet again. He sighed quietly and began typing, finishing the section she had started.

Minutes passed as he worked, his fingers moving swiftly over the keyboard. When he finally finished, he saved the document, closed her laptop gently, and pushed it aside.

Turning his attention back to Y/n, he rested his head on his arm, facing her. He couldn’t help but stare at her sleeping face, the way her features softened in sleep. There was something calming about just watching her, knowing she was finally getting some rest after everything she’d been dealing with.

A few minutes later, Y/n stirred, her eyes fluttering open. Taesan quickly sat up, pretending to look busy as she groggily lifted her head.

She blinked a few times, surprised to see him there. “Oh, hey,” she mumbled, her voice still thick with sleep. “When did you get here?”

He smiled softly. “A few minutes ago,” he lied, avoiding her eyes.

She stretched and rubbed her eyes, yawning. “That’s weird. I must’ve knocked out.” She sat up straighter, looking a bit more awake now. “You won’t believe it though—my group members finally started helping me out. It’s like a miracle or something.”

There was a hint of suspicion in her voice as she turned to him, narrowing her eyes playfully. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Taesan shifted in his seat, shrugging nonchalantly. “No idea what you’re talking about,” he said, avoiding her gaze as a faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

She stared at him for a moment, as if trying to read his face, but then shrugged and leaned back in her seat, letting it go. “Well, whoever it was, I owe them. Seriously. I was ready to lose it.”

He didn’t say anything, just smiled to himself, secretly pleased that his interference had helped her in some way. He glanced at her again, and for a moment, everything felt right—like this quiet connection between them was enough.

The sound of a distant clock ticking was the only reminder that time was still passing, but for now, Taesan was content to sit here, next to her, in the quietness of the library.

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

FLASHBACK

Taesan didn’t listen. Y/n had been stressing over her group project for days, but when she’d mentioned her group members still weren’t pulling their weight, he couldn't just sit back and do nothing. Even though she told him not to interfere, he decided to handle it his way.

Spotting one of her group members near the student lounge, he walked straight up to him without hesitation.

“Hey, you’re in Y/n’s group for the project, right?” Taesan asked, his tone firm.

The guy—Sunho—looked up from his phone, sizing him up. “Yeah, why?”

“Well, you should really start helping her out,” Taesan said bluntly, crossing his arms. “She’s doing all the work, and it’s not fair. She shouldn’t have to carry the whole project on her own.”

Sunho scoffed, putting his phone away. “And what if I don’t? What are you gonna do about it?”

Taesan’s expression hardened, taking a step closer. “I know you’ve already got a warning for not pulling your weight on other group projects. I’m sure the professor would love to hear how you’re treating this one.”

The guy’s smirk faltered, his eyes narrowing. He muttered something under his breath before grumbling, “Fine, whatever. I’ll help out.”

Satisfied, Taesan nodded and walked away, already looking for the next person in Y/n’s group.

It didn’t take long to spot Jihye chatting with her friends near the campus cafe. She was laughing, clearly not thinking about the project at all. Taesan hesitated for a second, but then pushed forward, determined.

“Hey, Jihye,” he called out, walking up to the group.

She turned around, surprised to see him. “Oh, hey. What’s up?”

“You’re in Y/n’s group for the project, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” she replied, her smile faltering as her friends looked at her curiously.

“You should stop being lazy and start actually helping her out instead of letting her do everything,” Taesan said flatly, ignoring the shocked looks from the others. “It’s a group project, not a solo one.”

The girl’s face flushed red with embarrassment as her friends stared at her. “I—I’ve been helping,” she stammered defensively, glancing at her friends for backup. “We’re just… working on it separately.”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Taesan shot back. “I’ve seen how stressed she is, and it’s not because you’ve been helping.”

The tension hung in the air, and her friends shifted uncomfortably. Jihye clenched her jaw, clearly embarrassed to be called out like this in front of her friends.

“Fine,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “I’ll talk to her and help out more.”

“Good,” Taesan said, his tone still sharp. He gave her one last look before turning on his heel and walking away, satisfied that he had done what needed to be done.

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

The sun was shining brightly on campus as Y/n walked alongside her two friends, their laughter ringing through the air. They were heading to their favorite café when she spotted Taesan across the quad, walking with his friends. Her heart did a little flip.

“Han Dongmin!” she called out, her voice bright and cheerful. The moment he turned to look at her, his face broke into a small, genuine smile, and he waved back, his friends chatting animatedly beside him.

Her friends exchanged knowing glances, smirking at each other. “Aww, look at you! You’re practically glowing!” Wonyoung teased, elbowing her playfully.

“Right? You’re like a total lovesick puppy,” Yoon chimed in, waggling her eyebrows. “So, do you guys have something going on?”

“Shut up!” Y/n blushed, shaking her head vigorously. “We’re just best friends! That’s all!”

They laughed, clearly enjoying her flustered reaction. “Best friends who smile at each other like that? Come on! There’s got to be more to it!”

She felt a mix of embarrassment and frustration as they continued to poke fun at her. “Seriously, it’s nothing! We’ve always been this way!” She insisted, trying to keep her voice steady.

The teasing continued for a few more moments before her friends finally let the topic go, shifting to a discussion about upcoming events on campus. But even as they talked, Y/n felt a weight in her chest.

She let out a sigh of relief, grateful they had moved on, but the idea of having feelings for her best friend lingered in her mind like an unwelcome guest. Memories flashed through her head: times when he had stepped in to protect her, standing up to bullies or helping her with her books when she was overwhelmed. The way he always seemed to sense when she was having a tough day, how he’d show up just when she needed him most, his presence a comforting shield.

“Are you even listening?” Yoon asked, pulling her back to the present.

“Uh, yeah! Totally!” Y/n replied, forcing a smile, but her mind kept wandering back to Taesan. What if there was something more? What if they could be more than just friends?

She shook her head slightly, trying to dispel the thoughts. “I mean, it’s just... he’s really important to me, that’s all,” She said quietly, more to herself than anyone else.

“Whatever you say, Sunshine!” Wonyoung teased, giving her a playful nudge.

As they continued their walk, Y/n couldn’t help but glance back at Taesan, who was now laughing with his friends, the sunlight catching in his hair. Her heart fluttered again, but this time, it felt different—more complicated.

Could she really navigate the transition from best friends to something deeper? The thought danced tantalizingly at the edge of her mind, leaving her both excited and anxious.

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

The library buzzed softly with the murmurs of students studying and typing away on their keyboards. At a table strewn with open textbooks and loose papers, Y/n sat, her gaze distant as she stared blankly at her laptop screen. The rhythmic clatter of keys and occasional shuffling of pages filled the background, but she barely noticed.

Taesan approached with a light-hearted stride, his usual grin replaced by a more contemplative expression. He slid into the seat next to her, his eyes scanning the scattered books and her vacant stare. Curiosity piqued, he leaned in close and waved his hand in front of her face, his fingers brushing lightly against her cheek.

“Hey, Earth to Y/n,” He teased, his voice gentle but laced with concern.

Startled, Y/n jolted upright, her cheeks flushing as she found herself inches from him. She quickly backed away, her heart racing as she tried to regain her composure.

“Oh, um, hi,” She stammered, avoiding his gaze. “I was just… thinking about stuff.”

“Stuff, huh?” He said, leaning back but keeping his gaze steady on her. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s nothing,” She insisted, her blush deepening. She fidgeted with her pencil, trying to focus on anything but his intense eyes.

Taesan didn’t press further, respecting her reluctance to share. They sat in a companionable silence for a few moments, the tension between them building like static electricity in the air.

Finally, Y/n took a deep breath and turned to him, her eyes full of hesitance. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” He replied, his interest clearly piqued.

“How do you know if you… like someone?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Taesan looked at her thoughtfully, his own cheeks faintly pink. “Well,” He began slowly, “I guess it’s when you want to be around them all the time, you care about their happiness more than your own, and you just feel this urge to protect them. Like, you always want to see them smile.”

A long pause followed his words, Y/n absorbing the meaning behind his confession. His heart pounded in his chest as he met her gaze.

“I guess,” He continued, taking a deep breath, “that’s how I know I like you. I want to protect you and make you happy. I like you a lot, Y/n.”

Y/n’s eyes widened in shock, her entire face turning beet red. For a moment, she seemed to malfunction, her mouth opening and closing as if searching for the right words.

Seeing her reaction, Taesan couldn’t help but chuckle softly. He reached over, gently taking her hand in his. “You don’t have to answer now. I just wanted you to know how I feel so you don’t misunderstand. No pressure.”

Instead of letting go, Y/n grasped his hand tightly, her fingers trembling slightly. Her gaze dropped to the table, her thoughts racing.

“You know,” She began, her voice wavering but sincere, “earlier today, Yoon and Wonyoung were teasing me about us. It got me thinking. I don’t know what I feel yet, but I do know that I don’t want anyone else to protect me but you.”

Taesan’s heart soared at her words. A soft smile spread across his face as he squeezed her hand gently.

“Then, let’s figure it out together,” He said softly, his eyes shining with affection.

Y/n nodded, a shy smile appearing on her lips. They sat together, hands intertwined, the weight of unspoken feelings finally shared between them.

୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

A/N: and then they all DIE! 😈 JK YAY! a happy ending for Taesan! This is my apology for all the Taesan angst imagines/stories i have wrote and will be writing in the future ... 🙇🏻‍♀️ my fingers hurt from typing so much … but thanks for reading!

MASTERLIST

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024

[rootedinrevisions]

Cop Car

SUMMARY: You and Jake enter a restricted area to watch the planes take off. It's all fun and games until the two of you end up cuffed in the backseat of a car. Things only get worse when your dad, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell arrives on the scene. Loosely based on/inspired by Cop Car by Keith Urban because apparently my thing lately has been making fics out of songs.

WARNINGS: None

WORD COUNT: 3.5K

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87

The faint roar of jet engines reverberated in the distance, a low hum that vibrated through the night air. You were wrapped up in Jake’s arms, your back pressed against his chest as you both lounged in the truck bed, staring at the vast sky above. There was a thrill, a kind of reckless energy, in sitting just beyond the "No Trespassing" signs, so close to the runways where the Navy's finest pilots took off.

Your heart raced, though it wasn’t from fear of getting caught. It was from being here, next to him. You felt the soft thud of his heartbeat as you lay back against his chest, your body cocooned in his warmth.

“You sure this was a good idea?” Jake’s voice was low, tinged with amusement as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

You grinned up at him, the glow of the airstrip lights casting soft shadows across his features. “Since when have you ever cared about breaking the rules?”

He chuckled, running a hand through his messy blonde hair. “Fair point. But if your old man catches us—”

You cut him off with a playful laugh, turning in his arms so you could look up into his eyes. “We’ll be fine. I’ve got a plan.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got a plan?”

“Mmhmm,” you nodded confidently, leaning in closer until your noses almost touched. “If we get caught, I’ll just tell them how much I love planes. They’ll understand.”

Jake shook his head, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll get us out of any trouble.”

You leaned back against him, your eyes flicking up to watch as another jet took off, its engines roaring to life and tearing down the runway before disappearing into the night sky. There was something magical about it, watching those planes cut through the darkness. You’d loved planes ever since you were a kid—since the first time your dad had taken you up for a ride.

Sighing contently, you snuggled deeper into Jake’s embrace, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back. The moment was perfect, just the two of you, wrapped up in each other. All the worries of tomorrow didn’t matter. It was just you, Jake, and the thrill of being somewhere you weren’t supposed to be.

“Hey, look,” Jake said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Another one.”

You followed his gaze, watching as a fighter jet lifted off into the air, its sleek frame disappearing into the starry sky. For a second, you imagined what it must be like for Jake—to be up there, soaring through the clouds, with nothing but the horizon ahead of him. You admired his ambition, his drive.

“What’s it like up there…you know when you’re flying?” you asked, watching another jet take off, its lights blinking against the darkness.

Jake’s laugh was low, vibrating through your body as his arms tightened around you. “It’s the best feeling in the world…besides being here with you.”

You smiled, tilting your head back to catch a glimpse of his face, the shadows from the runway lights dancing across his jawline. There was something about being here, just the two of you, that felt untouchable—like nothing could ruin this moment. It felt like the world belonged to just you and him.

But then, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted it—the glow of headlights approaching from the other side of the fence. Your heart skipped a beat.

“Uh, Jake,” you murmured, sitting up a little. “We’ve got company.”

Jake followed your gaze, his jaw tightening as the headlights got closer. A black SUV with the words “Military Police” emblazoned on the side rolled to a stop just a few feet away from Jake’s truck.

“Shit,” he muttered, sliding out of the truck bed and extending a hand to help you down. His expression was still calm, but you could feel the tension rolling off him as the door to the SUV swung open.

Two officers stepped out, their faces stern and their postures rigid as they approached. The taller one, a gruff-looking man in his mid-40s with a salt-and-pepper beard, was the first to speak.

“You two realize this is a restricted area, right?” His voice was sharp, no-nonsense.

You exchanged a glance with Jake, your heart thudding in your chest. “Uh, yeah,” Jake said, holding up his hands in surrender. “We were just watching the planes. Didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

The officer’s eyes narrowed as his gaze shifted to you. “And you? You got identification on you?”

Your breath caught in your throat. You weren’t on base legally, and you knew it. While Jake was a Navy pilot with all the right credentials, you were just the daughter of one of the Navy’s most legendary pilots. That wasn’t going to help much right now.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “I… I don’t have any ID on me.”

The second officer, a younger man with a buzz cut, stepped forward. “Name?”

You hesitated, glancing at Jake before answering. His green eyes were serious, silently telling you to be honest. There was no talking your way out of this.

“Y/N Mitchell,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

The officers exchanged a glance, clearly recognizing the name. “As in Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell?” the first officer asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

You nodded, your heart sinking. “Yeah… that’s my dad.”

The older officer exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple as if already anticipating the headache this was going to cause. “Well, Miss Mitchell, you’re not supposed to be here. You’re aware of that, right?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Jake cut in. “Look, this is on me. I brought her here. She just wanted to see the planes. I’ll take full responsibility.”

The officer gave Jake a once-over, clearly unimpressed. “And you are?”

“Lieutenant Jake Seresin,” Jake said, pulling his Military ID card out of his wallet and handing it over. The officer examined it under the flashlight before handing it back, his expression still stony.

“You know better, Lieutenant,” the officer said, his voice low and stern. “You’re military personnel. You should know what ‘No Trespassing’ means.”

Jake clenched his jaw but nodded. “Yes sir, I know. I screwed up.”

The officer gave a nod to his partner, who immediately stepped forward and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “I’m afraid you’re both coming with us,” the younger officer said, reaching for Jake’s wrists first.

“Wait, is that really necessary?” you asked, panic rising in your chest as you watched them cuff Jake.

“Afraid so,” the officer replied, his tone almost bored. “Regulations.”

Your breath quickened as the officer turned to you next, holding out the cuffs. “Turn around, ma’am.”

You swallowed hard and did as you were told, the cold metal of the cuffs clicking around your wrists. The reality of the situation began to set in, and for the first time, a sliver of fear crept in.

Jake met your eyes, and despite the cuffs, he managed to give you a reassuring smile.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice steady, “it’s gonna be fine.”

You nodded, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart. You wanted to believe him, but the weight of what could happen hung heavy in the air.

The officers escorted you and Jake to the back of their patrol car, opening the doors and motioning for you to get inside. You slid in first, Jake following closely behind, the door slamming shut behind him. The inside of the car smelled like leather and disinfectant, the overhead light casting a dim glow across your faces.

You slouched against the seat, biting your lip to keep from laughing at the absurdity of it all. Jake caught your eye and raised an eyebrow.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft as the officers stood outside making phone calls.

You nodded, resting your head against the seat. “Yeah, I’m okay. Are you?”

Jake exhaled, his gaze drifting toward the flashing blue lights reflecting in the window. “Your dad’s gonna kill me.”

You let out a soft laugh, the tension easing slightly. “He might. But hey, at least we’ve got a good story now.”

Jake chuckled, leaning his head back against the seat, his eyes closing briefly. “Yeah, some story. 'Remember that time we got cuffed for watching jets take off?'”

You grinned, leaning your head against his shoulder. “You know, we could try to make a run for it.”

His eyes snapped open, and he turned to you, disbelief written all over his face. “You’re crazy.”

You shrugged, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Maybe. But you love it.”

He shook his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “I do.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the weight of the situation fading as the minutes ticked by. Outside, the officers were still making calls, seemingly in no rush to let you go. But you didn’t care. In this moment, sitting in the back of a patrol car, cuffed and facing who knew what kind of trouble, all that mattered was being here with Jake.

He glanced over at you again, his expression softening as he took in the way the blue lights danced in your eyes. He couldn’t help but think how beautiful you looked, even in a situation like this. And for a second, all his worries about tomorrow and whatever consequences awaited him melted away.

“Your dad’s never gonna let me see you again, is he?” Jake asked, half-joking, though there was a hint of concern in his voice.

You smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “We’ll figure it out.”

Just then, the familiar sound of car tires on the gravel made you both look up. The unmistakable silhouette of your father, Captain Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, appeared in the distance, his boots crunching rhythmically against the gravel as he approached the patrol car. The blue and red lights cast long shadows over his form, and even from inside the car, you could see the tightness in his jaw and the intensity in his eyes. He was pissed, no doubt about it.

Jake shifted beside you, his relaxed demeanor faltering for the first time since the police had shown up. His face fell, the reality of the situation finally hitting him. “This is gonna be bad,” he muttered under his breath, glancing sideways at you.

You could only nod, your stomach twisting with a mix of dread and embarrassment. If there was one thing that had always been constant in your life, it was your dad’s protective nature. And now, seeing him storming toward the car—where you sat in the back, hands cuffed, with Jake beside you—it felt like you were about to face the full force of it.

Just as Maverick reached the car, the officer nearest the door gave you and Jake a nod, his face stern as he reached for the door handle. 

“Alright, out you two,” he said, his voice gruff but controlled. 

He opened the door, and the cool night air rushed in, cutting through the warmth of the enclosed space. Jake was the first to move. He slid out of the seat with a quiet grunt, his wrists still bound by the cuffs as he straightened to his full height. The officer standing nearby gave him a once-over, clearly unimpressed, before placing a hand on Jake’s arm to guide him to the side of the car.

Then it was your turn. You followed Jake’s lead, scooting across the seat and stepping out into the gravel. The moment your feet hit the ground, you felt the weight of everything hit you all at once—the flashing lights, the tension in the air, and your dad’s unwavering gaze locked on the two of you. The officers didn’t waste time; you were both led a few paces away from the car, standing side by side as Maverick looked between you and Jake with that intense, assessing stare.

Jake, to his credit, stood still and silent, his jaw clenched tightly. You could sense the regret rolling off him in waves. His shoulders were stiff, and for once, he seemed unsure of what to say. Not that there was much he could say to fix the situation.

Maverick’s eyes moved between the two of you, taking in the sight of his daughter cuffed and standing beside Lieutenant Jake "Hangman" Seresin. His frustration was palpable, but the way he lingered on you for a second longer made your stomach twist. This wasn’t just anger—this was disappointment.

The older officer cleared his throat, drawing Maverick’s attention for a moment. “Captain Mitchell, sir,” he said, more formally now, clearly aware of the gravity of the situation.

Maverick’s gaze didn’t leave you and Jake, his arms crossing over his chest. “What’s going on here?”

The officer quickly explained, outlining how they’d found you both in a restricted area and how neither of you had proper authorization. The moment he finished, there was a beat of silence. Maverick’s eyes narrowed as they settled on Jake.

“Lieutenant Seresin,” he said slowly, his voice deceptively calm, “care to explain why I’m getting a call in the middle of the night saying my daughter’s in the back of a patrol car with you?”

Jake straightened up, squaring his shoulders. “Sir, it’s on me. I brought her out here. I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t,” Maverick cut him off, his voice sharp. “You didn’t think at all, clearly.”

You winced at the harshness of his tone, knowing this wasn’t going to go over well. The officer standing beside Jake glanced between the two men, but remained silent. Maverick’s gaze shifted to you, and the weight of his stare made your heart sink.

“Y/N, you know better than this,” Maverick said, his voice firm but with an edge of concern. “You know what happens when you break the rules, especially on a military base. What were you thinking?”

You looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Maverick sighed, running a hand through his hair before turning to the officers. “Can you take the cuffs off?”

The younger officer hesitated for a moment, then gave a small nod. “Sure, Captain.” He stepped forward and unlocked Jake’s cuffs first. Jake gave a slight nod of thanks but didn’t move otherwise, still standing rigid beside you.

Then it was your turn. The officer released the cuffs from your wrists, and you immediately rubbed at the sore spots where the metal had bitten into your skin. The weight of the cuffs was gone, but the tension hanging between the three of you was suffocating.

Maverick gave the officers a short nod, signaling for them to step back. Then he crossed his arms again, his eyes flickering between you and Jake. “You two are lucky it was just the military police who found you,” he said, his voice low but filled with authority. “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened if this got reported up the chain? You’re both smart enough to know better.”

Jake shifted beside you, finally finding his voice again. “Sir, I take full responsibility. Y/N shouldn’t get in trouble for this. She was just with me. If there’s any punishment, it should be mine.”

Maverick’s gaze hardened as he stared down Jake, a long silence stretching between them. Finally, Maverick spoke, his voice cold. “This isn’t about punishment, Seresin. This is about trust. You’ve got my daughter out here, breaking rules, putting herself in a dangerous position, and you didn’t think for one second about what that means?”

Jake flinched, guilt flashing across his face. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to put her in danger.”

Maverick exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he turned to you, his expression softening just slightly. “You okay?”

You nodded, feeling the weight of the situation settle even heavier on your shoulders. “Yeah… I’m okay. I’m sorry, Dad.”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Maverick said, his voice gentler now, though the tension still lingered. “But you’re coming home with me.”

He turned back to Jake, his face hardening again. “And you, Lieutenant… this doesn’t go on your record, but if you’re serious about my daughter, you’d better start using your head.”

The night air hung heavy as Maverick walked back toward his car, his command still lingering in the space between you and Jake. Though the cuffs were off and the immediate crisis seemed to be over, you couldn’t shake the knot tightening in your chest. Maverick wasn’t letting this slide easily, and both you and Jake knew it.

“Lieutenant Seresin,” Maverick called out, his voice stern and carrying authority, making it clear this wasn’t a request.

Jake, who had been silently rubbing his wrists, snapped to attention. He straightened up, his posture rigid, falling back into his role as a Navy officer. “Yes, sir.”

Maverick’s gaze hardened as he took a step closer, his voice unwavering. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to say goodnight to my daughter, and then you’re going straight back to your quarters. No stops, no detours. Understood?”

Jake nodded, his usual confidence visibly absent. “Yes, sir.”

Maverick’s eyes narrowed slightly, the warning in his expression unmistakable. “And Lieutenant… Don’t think this is over because you apologized. You put her in danger tonight, and that doesn’t sit well with me. I expect better from you.”

Jake flinched at the words, his jaw tightening as the guilt in his eyes deepened. “I understand, sir,” he said quietly. “It won’t happen again.”

Maverick held his gaze for a moment longer, then nodded toward you. “Go on. Say goodnight.”

Jake exhaled and turned toward you, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of regret and something softer, more vulnerable. As he stepped closer, he hesitated for a second, glancing briefly toward Maverick, then back to you.

Without saying a word, he pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms around you with a tenderness that melted the tension in your body. You let out a shaky breath, resting your head against his chest as the warmth of the embrace momentarily blocked out everything else—your dad’s watchful eyes, the police cars, the chaos of the night.

Jake leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead instead of your lips, a gesture that felt protective, as if he were trying to shield you from the weight of everything that had happened. “I love you,” he whispered against your skin, his voice rough with emotion. “This won’t change anything. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You nodded against his chest, your throat tight with unspoken words. “I love you too,” you whispered back.

Jake squeezed you gently one last time before letting go. You could see the strain in his expression, the regret hanging heavy in his posture as he pulled away. He gave you a small, reassuring smile as if trying to make everything feel less complicated, even though you both knew it wasn’t.

You reached out, pulling him in for one final hug, a silent goodbye filled with the promise that things weren’t over between you. Jake closed his eyes briefly as he held you, then slowly stepped back, his hands lingering on your arms for a moment longer before he let you go completely.

Turning away from you, he walked toward Maverick, who stood by the car with his arms crossed, his expression still stern but no longer as harsh. Jake gave him a sharp nod, acknowledging the silent tension that still lingered between them.

“Get going, Lieutenant,” Maverick said, his voice firm. “And don’t let me hear about you being anywhere other than your quarters tonight.”

Jake nodded, his voice steady but low. “Yes, sir.”

Without another word, Jake turned and headed toward his truck. You watched as he got in, glancing in your direction once more before he started the engine. The sound of his truck pulling away filled the quiet night, and soon enough, the taillights disappeared into the darkness.

Maverick let out a slow breath once Jake was gone, his rigid stance loosening ever so slightly. He turned toward you, his expression softening as he stepped closer, his eyes searching your face. “You okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now, filled with the concern of a father who had been shaken but was trying to hide it.

You nodded, though your heart was still racing. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly. “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Maverick sighed, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he pulled you into a hug. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” he murmured, patting your back gently. “Let’s get you home now.”

You leaned into him, finding comfort in the familiar embrace, but even as you walked with him toward his car, your thoughts remained on Jake, his whispered promise still echoing in your mind.

[yelenasdiary]

Hey, i'm the same one with the idea.

So i was thinking, the Marvel universe.

Wanda had the boys, but they are Vision's kids. Yn is their bestfriend(Wanda and Nat) and played like cupid, you know, they were a couple thanks to her.

So well, I was thinking something about being reincarnated, i don't truly believe in it but in a history i like that type of things.

Wanda was pregnant again, with a baby girl, and in the time Wanda was suppose to gave birth, Yn was in a mission but it went wrong, she got shot and even if they try to "fix" everything, they couldn't and she died.

In the moment, the doctors were trying to do their things, Wanda has the labor contractions and finally gave birth.

So the thing is, the "soul" of Yn went to the baby, or something like that.(I don't know how to say those things, i try my best to write in english hahaha)

And Wanda and Nat found about it and named the baby after Yn.

While the little Yn was growing up, they saw how many things she did in the same way as Yn, and of course they talked about her with the little one.

And basically, you can change everything you want and need to write the story, if you want to write it, of course. Thank you. Have a good day, or night.

Watching Over You

Pairing: WandaNat x Fem! Avenger! Reader (Platonic), Mentions of Wanda x Vision. 

Summary: Somethings in this world are unexplainable but what if that one thing helped bring two people together to start a new life

Angst, Comfort

Warnings: Character Death, Mentions of guns, and Child Birth | 1.5K

Translations: Detka (baby),

AC: I love this idea, it’s something different! I hope you enjoy this, I do apologise if this isn’t as exciting as you hoped. Thank you for sending it! x 

The blue sky started to look dim, your body turning cold as Clint and Steve rushed you to the quinjet. Steve carrying you bridal style while Clint cleared the path, the soldier laid you down on one of the uncomfortable beds and strapped you down tightly. “It’ll be okay! We’ll get you home” you heard Steve’s faint voice before things went black. Clint wasting no time starting up the jet to rush you home to medical. 

Meanwhile, your best friends were preparing for the next chapter in their lives. You could say you were cupid in Wanda and Natasha’s love story. After Wanda and Vision got divorced, Wanda struggled to get out of the loveless slump she was in. You did everything you could think of to help her get over Vision, but it was hard when her two eldest children were fathered by him. But with some time and patience, Wanda opened herself up to dating again. Did she expect her next marriage to be with a woman? No, but she was so thankful that you helped her see just how much Natasha loved and cared for the mother of two. 

It wasn’t exactly easy for Nat either. Her feelings for Wanda started well before the brunette got divorced and watching Wanda have a little family with somebody else pushed Natasha’s hopes for a family of her own further and further to the back of her mind. But now? Now Natasha and Wanda were hours away from welcoming their first child together. 

Without you and setting up a cheeky few blind dates and listening for hours on end to your friends feelings for one another, you weren’t sure what the two would be doing now. But it’s been 2 years since they got married and a lot of happy tears on the way. 

“Something isn’t right!” Wanda said in a panic, “Nat, something isn’t right, I can feel it!” She added, rubbing her hand over her swollen stomach. Wanda’s water broke a couple of hours ago, but she wasn’t dilated enough to be taken to the delivery room. Natasha comforted her wife by taking her hand, “have some ice chips detka, everything is okay, I promise” she replied before offering Wanda a cup of ice chips. Wanda saw that Natasha didn’t quite understand her wife’s worries, she slowly shook her head, “it’s not the baby, something just doesn’t feel right” Wanda said, her eyes building with tears. 

“Do you want me to get a nurse?” Natasha asked. Wanda shook her head, “please don’t leave me” Wanda replied, looking up at Natasha. Although Wanda’s current state of mind was confusing Nat a little, she sat down beside Wanda’s bed and quickly changed the topic to keep her wife distracted. 

“So, do you think is going to get jealous first? Tommy or Billy?” She joked, causing Wanda to playful slap her hand away from her. 

----

What seemed like forever had passed, Wanda was only seconds away from giving birth. Natasha by her side holding her hand has her wife almost broke her knuckles in pain and while the delivery room was full of excitement and happiness, another room was full of the exact opposite. 

Tony, Steve, Clint, Maria, Thor, Bucky and Pepper sat around the large table in one of the many conference rooms. Nothing but silence was shared, tissues in the center of the table that mainly Maria and Pepper reached for, the guys looking at one another, all wondering how to process the news. 

“We have to tell them” Steve broke the silence. 

“Last update I had was Wanda was taken into the delivery room. Nat said she’d keep me posted but I don’t think we tell them yet” Clint replied. 

“We can’t not tell them; they’re going to know. Especially Wanda” Maria chipped in, whipping her tears on a tissue. 

“How about we just deal with it when need too, right now, we should probably go to the hospital and be there for them” Pepper suggested, “nothing we do is going to change anything” she added. Tony nodded in agreement, “if anything, we tell Nat first. We shouldn’t tell Wanda right now” he inserted. 

The small team came to an agreement, it wasn’t easy, and they wished things were different, that they would have better news but the best thing they could all do right now was to be there for each other. 

Steve knocked softly on Wanda’s door in the hospital before slowly opening it, everybody had a soft smile on their faces and even through the news they had to keep to themselves for now, the excitement of meeting a new little family member helped make things feel a little better. 

“Hey guys!” Wanda smiled softly at her extended family. Natasha was gently rocking their new-born daughter in her arms as the others entered the room. Clint stepped close to Natasha, looking down at his friend’s little baby. “She’s beautiful” he whispered softly.  

“Do you want to hold her?” Nat offered with a sense of proudness in her voice, Clint nodded, “I’d love too” he added. 

“Hey, where’s Y/n?” Wanda asked, looking at everybody. Thor’s eyes dropped immediately to his feet which only made Wanda tilt her head slightly to the side, “Nat, uh, there’s something I need to run by you, do you mind if we step outside for a moment?” Steve quickly said before Wanda could question anything. Wanda watched as Steve and Natasha left the room, the others quickly turning the attention back to the baby in Clint’s arms. 

“Does she have a name yet?” Maria asked. 

“We have a couple of ideas, but nothing seems to feel right at the moment” Wanda said, smiling tiredly at her. 

“Steve, what is it?” Natasha asked, a sparkle in her eye that Steve hated to break. “We thought it would be best to tell you first” he started. 

“Tell me what?” Natasha frowned slightly, trying to read Steve for an answer. 

“Y/n is gone. There was a situation on the mission, and she was shot, she never made it off the table Nat” 

Natasha was in disbelief as she cocked a brow at her friend, “you know this is a really shitty time to play a joke like that. She’s never miss this” 

Steve stood in silence, allowing the news to sink in until it did, and Natasha’s eyes filled with tears. “When did Helen call time of death?” Natasha asked. “6:42pm” Steve answered, unaware that the little fact would cause Nat to break completely. He caught her in his arms, comforting her until she was able to gather herself once more. “I t-think you guys should go” she looked up at him, “I need to tell Wanda” 

“I understand” Steve replied before the two of them entered the room once again. “Alright guys, I know it’s exciting, but I think we should let Wanda get some rest and our little darling will need a feed soon” Natasha announced, any excuse to kindly ask them to leave. They understood the moment they looked at Steve, they all gave Wanda a hug before the room was just the three of them. 

----

It took a few long days for Wanda to process the news, every time she looked at her new baby, all she felt was happiness but in the short moments she was able to look into her daughter’s eyes, all she saw was you and that was the thing that troubled her a little. Not everybody believed in reincarnation, Wanda wasn’t sure she believed in it much herself but when it came to finalizing the birth certificate, it was time to give the new-born a name. 

“That can’t be right” Wanda frowned, the blue ballpoint pen hovering over the birth certificate. 

“What’s not right detka?” Natasha asked, placing her hand on Wanda’s knee under the dining room table. “Pumpkin’s time of birth, it has to be a mistake” she replied. Pumpkin being the nickname they gave their daughter until they were able to settle on a final name. 

“I was hoping that you wouldn’t notice that” Nat replied, watching as Wanda’s eyes filled with tears. She dropped the pen from her hold and ran her fingers through her hair, “our best friend died the exact same time our daughter was born” she looked to Nat, “call me crazy but this can’t be a coincidence. Every time I look into Pumpkin’s eyes, all I see is Y/n. Even her cheeky little smile makes me feel like Y/n is here” Wanda went on. 

Natasha didn’t think her wife was crazy, not for a second. “Me too” the red head admitted, bringing her hand to cup Wanda’s cheek, wiping her tears. “I know we’re stuck on a name but I can’t help but want to name her after Y/n” she added. Wanda smiled softly through her tears, “I wanted to suggest that. I would love to name her after Y/n, I think it’s a great idea” 

As time went on, little Y/n grew up knowing more and more about the Avenger she was named after, she leant about how you helped her mother’s get together, she learnt all about your favorite hobbies, likes and dislikes. There was plenty of little things that mini-Romanoff did that made everybody around her think of you, from her cheeky smile to her stubbornness and even her mischief behavior when playing with her brothers, she might be half Wanda and half Natasha but she was in many ways, a part of you.

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[xenyasplacex]

Keep it

Toxic FWB!Chris x Fem!reader

TW: forced abortion, Swearing

“Chris please!” You pleaded, tears running down your cheeks, nose red, eyes stinging, staring at him as he rolled his eyes nonchalantly.

“Look, i told you. I don’t want a relationship with you. And don’t even get me started on that baby.”

You hand flew to your stomach when he said that. You knew Chris wouldn’t take the news about your pregnancy well, but you couldn’t have even thought it would be this bad.

“Chris please, I di-“

“No. I’m sorry what were you expecting? For me to run to you and tell you everything is okay, and that i love you. Because if i did that would be a lie.”

That hurt more than anything else he had said. He didn’t love you. He didn’t love you.

He didn’t love you.

“You don’t love me.” You whispered, starting to lose your balance and trying to hold the wall to stabilise yourself.

“No i don’t love you. You were a good fuck. That’s all. I thought we were just fuck buddies. And now your all giddy about being pregnant and shit. I mean this is such a joke.” Chris said without thinking, getting up and starting to walk towards the door to your apartment.

“Look i don’t care what you do but you’re getting rid of this baby.”

That snapped you out of whatever trans you were in. You looked at him. Astonished almost. 

“What?”

“I’m not having this baby with you. I mean seriously i’m not having a kid.” Chris replied putting his black puffer coat back on.

“But it’s still my baby.” You whispered looking at him with pure hurt. He wanted you to get rid of it. Your baby. Your child.

Chris saw the look on your face and his expression softened a bit. He did feel bad. Putting you through this and all. But he really couldn’t deal with a kid. And a kid with you would be even worse for him. He really did love you. Even though he told himself he didn’t, he did. But you couldn’t know that. Nobody could know that. Heck even he couldn’t let himself admit that, but it was true.

He slowly walked towards you, cupping his face in your hands before reaching down and kissing you firmly but lovingly. You melted into this kiss, forgetting about everything that had happened and simply just enjoying the moment. It was moments like this when you truly believed that he loved you and that he really did care. But there moments were few and far between.

Breaking the kiss, Chris leaned his forehead onto yours, swaying you a bit as you basked in his presence, a soft smile present on your face. When Chris knew you were so far gone that you were simply putty in his hands he spoke up.

“Get rid of it babe. For me. You know i love you, but i can’t love both you and the baby yeah? So get rid of it for me.” He whispered, trying to find anyway to convince you.

Before you could even reply he bent down and count your lips in another kiss, this time moving you towards your front door once again. He then broke this kiss before grabbing his fitted hat and opening your front door.

“I love you. Text me when it’s done.” Was the last thing he said before waking out of your apartment.

It took you a moment to realise that he was even gone, but when you had realised that, you d also realised what he had just tried to do, and hours you had almost fallen for it. You wanted this baby. You wanted to have a family of your own, even if Chris didn’t want to be apart of it. You wanted this child and for once you were going to have to rebel. Slowly you got your phone out.

A/N: this is rushed but whatever

Luv Ya,

Xenya

[shentheauthor]

PSA for kids on the internet:

I know a lot of y’all look at nsfw content. It’s not good to be in those spaces (because you’re intruding on adult spaces made for adults, by adults, and it’s uncomfortable), but that’s just how kids are sometimes (source: I did that as a kid). It’s inevitable.

The thing is, you should NOT be talking to adults about it. If you break the clear 18+ boundaries people set, that’s YOUR business, and you should NEVER be comfortable discussing sexual topics with adults. I’m being so serious.

It’s never, ever your fault if you’re groomed. The thing is, gross adults will take advantage of you if you make it clear that you are a minor exploring nsfw topics. They see that, and they think you’re an easy target.

As for adults who are uncomfortable with kids seeing their nsfw work, the best we can do is block ageless accounts and minors who announce that they are minors. That’s not enough. You need to keep yourself safe as much as we need to keep you safe.

I care about this stuff a lot. I narrowly dodged a lot of horrible experiences, and it still took me years to deconstruct the harmful things I started internalizing because I was unrestricted on the internet. I got lucky. I can’t say the same for a lot of other people.

Statistically, you will not get lucky if you are a child on the internet. Stay safe.

Also, grooming isn’t strictly for pedophiles. Grooming is when people foster an environment where a vulnerable party (ie children) gets comfortable with an inappropriate relationship. The exploitation doesn’t have to be sexual. It can be an ego thing, or for money, or any number of things. It’s hard to accept that the person you care about is a groomer, and it’s even harder when people fundamentally misunderstand the definition of grooming.

A child can groom another child. An adult can groom another adult. It’s about exploitation, not necessarily age.

Stay safe out there, guys. They don’t teach internet safety like they used to.

[adoresia]

— Cold Truths

⋆.˚ CHARACTERS : Megumi and Toji Fushiguro

⋆.˚ SYNOPSIS : In which Toji opens up about how he got the scar on his lip

⋆.˚ WARNINGS : none

⋆.˚ SIERRA SPEAKS : first jjk fic kinda scarttt😣 this was requested by a new friend of mine!! 😋😋 (everybody clap for @mistymuimui ) anyways i got kinda lazy towards the end so i might change the ending a bit later but, HERE YOU GO!!,

“HA, beat you again. You know what that means, right?”

Toji exclaimed proudly before leaning back onto the couch with the smuggest look on his face, still playing around with the toothpick in his mouth from dinner previously. Both he and Megumi had been abusing the new console ever since Toji got it for Megumi’s recent birthday, although it seems Toji got it for himself considering he used it more than Megumi did.

This particular evening both the boys had been going for rounds on rounds playing a PVP game together. But you know Toji HAD to make a bet for whoever wins.

“Whatever, you cheated so it’s not fair.” Megumi protested. This was the 5th time this week he was on dish duty for losing against his father.

“Not my fault you’re so bad at it, get better.” Toji said while he relaxed his head back on both his arms, “Your hands are gonna grow wrinkles from washing these plates so much.” He laughed, although Megumi wasn’t all that amused.

“You say that every time but the bet is always whoever wins has to wash the dishes, it’s like you want my hands to grow wrinkles.” With his hands spread out in front of him, he looked at what essentially everyday dishwashing was doing to him cursed under his breath. His eyebrows unconsciously furrowed in protest.

“Like I said kid, get better.” Toji yawned the last part tiredly as he closed his eyes in victory, glad that he made it another day not having to wash any dishes.

Megumi just shook his head in annoyance, honestly how did it get to this point? Toji was such a kid he took back Megumi’s birthday present without actually saying it. Although Megumi wasn’t that annoyed, at least he got to spend time with his dad after all this time of not having him around. As he pondered this he recognised, that there wasn’t that much he knew about Toji. Only the fact that he was once part of the Zenin clan but escaped, barely… Megumi didn’t care, not until now at least.

“Your scar, why do you have it.” He questioned out of the blue.

“What? This isn’t gonna get you out of doing the dishes by the way.” Toji’s eyes blinked open from his light nap in confusion.

“Well that would’ve been a good idea but if I don’t do them unfortunately nobody won’t.”

Toji laughed at his response “You just called me lazy. No play station for you anymore.”

“You use it more than me? Can you just answer my question?”

“I was thrown into a pit with cursed spirits, fought them all and got this scar. They didn’t expect me to survive that but I did and now I got something cool to remember it by, wanna take a closer look?” He pointed at his scar, unphased by how serious the situation was.

“Why?”

“Why what, you ask too many questions ‘gum. I just answered you.” He waved off his other question and got comfortable on the couch again.

“Well, okay then,” Megumi answered, stacking the plates on top of each other while carrying them to the kitchen.

While Toji ‘rested his eyes’ as his head fell back onto the couch. Unwanted memories filled the void of his mind. Recollections from the past about the Zenin clan and their treatment of him as a child led to his current situation. The reason he could no longer continue to live while carrying the burden of the zen in name plastered to him. The reason he took Megumi’s mother’s last name. Fushiguro. The reason he had a constant reminder of his childhood every time he looked into a mirror, or a camera, or the photo of him and Megumi which sat on the Lock Screen of his phone.

All of these reminders manipulated him into not bringing any of his past up to Megumi, of all people. He didn’t want his son to think any less of him because he was treated so weakly as a child. That didn’t matter to him, the only concern he had was his future. But if Megumi had questions about his past, not answering them made him look even weaker.

Toji’s eyes had been glued on the ceiling for a while now, thoughts still lingering while time was ticking. He wasn’t aware of how much time he had spent sitting in all these memories of his past, and the sun was sinking as it lowered. The sky, was ablaze, with the fire of the setting sun.

During the time Toji drifted and circled in his ruminant flashbacks, Megumi had already cleared the dining table, cleaned all the dishes (against his own will), fed his dogs and was already in bed.

Toji grumbled in fatigue, pushing himself off the couch, and stretching his muscles into a more comfortable position as he stood up. After sitting all day and playing on Megumi’s console his whole body was sore, and seemed to have moulded into his sitting position. Simultaneously, he jaunted drowsily to his room, not before involuntarily stopping at the open doorway of Megumi’s bedroom.

Megumi played lazily across his bed in the company of his divine dogs beside him, with whatever book he was reading in his left hand while he used to other to soothingly pet his dogs.

“Why are you still here?” Megumi had noticed his dad staring at him for the last 2 minutes but eventually, it started to creep him out, because the lights in his room were off and Toji looked like a heavily muscular cursed spirit standing in the doorway.

“Why are you so rude I’m litterallyour dad.”

“I’m waiting for you to explain why you’ve been standing there staring at me for so long.”

Megumi was met with silence, Toji leaned on the doorway staring at the ground while scratching the back of his head trying to find an answer somewhere in his mind.

“Hello…”

“The zenin, pushed me into the pit” He blurted out.

“They didn’t like me much, thought less of me cause I had no cursed energy so I guess they didn’t want me ruining their reputation or whatever.” He yawned out.

It took a while for Megumi to process what he had just said and so the aroma of the room was quiet for a bit. Toji’s mind turmoiled into possible reactions from Megumi.

“Okay, thanks for answering my question.” Megumi returned before going back to reading his book.

“Why are you acting so nonchalant, you were the one who was so curious.” Toji questioned, was his awsome story not that interesting to Megumi?

“Yeah but I got my answer now so thanks I guess.”

“Wow that’s it? You don’t think I’m weak for letting them basically bully me?” Toji asked, questioning if maybe he put it off for so long for no reason at all.

“No? You were a kid. Aren’t all kids weak?” Megumi said still following the lines in his book.

“Nah not me, otherwise I would’ve been dead ages ago but here I am! With a cool scare on my lip. Do you think it’s cool?”

“If you say so”

“Just admit it ‘gum.” Toji walked away from the door towards Megumi attacking him with fake punches, messing up his hair with his fist.

He was glad that Megumi didn’t care as much about his past, however it did feel nice to finally share some of what happened to him as a kid.

“Okay okay fine it’s cool or whatever.” Megumi admitted, playfullytrying to fight off his dad secretly loving the time they got to spend together.

“Thank you for sharing it with me though, I was close to finding you a therapist” Megumi admitted jokingly.

“A therapist? The hell do I need a therapist for?” He argued.

“You were sat on the sofa with the meanest mug on your face, I know you were thinking about what I asked you.” Megumi admitted.

Toji grew embarrassed, he had not realised how wrapped up in his thoughts he had been. So much so that Megumi knew why he was so tense.

“Don’t watch me like that again. Let’s play another round of that game. Loser washes the dishes for a month.” Toji’s heavy figure jumped off of Megumi’s bed and ran out of the room like a child before he could get an answer.

“It’s not like I have a choice.” Megumi sighed in defeat, picking himself up and walking out of his room to see his dad, controller already in hand ready to beat his ass again.

“Hurry up and grab the controller boy, it’s about to be a whole lot of washing dishes for you this month.”

[lila-lou]

✨Taking her in - Pt. 1✨

Summary: After Dean Winchester saves your life, he brings you into the safety of the bunker. As you grow older and stronger, Dean refuses to let you join the hunts, his overprotective behavior intensifying. But beneath his fierce protectiveness lies something darker—conflicted feelings he can’t face. As your 18th birthday approaches, Dean struggles to keep control, torn between his duty to protect you and emotions he’s buried for too long.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! HUGE Age Gap, Immoral, Underage Reader, Language

Word Count: 4536

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

Living with the Winchesters had been a strange yet oddly comforting experience. A few years ago, you were just a scared kid, barely surviving on your own after your mom passed away. The world was a cruel place, and you had learned that the hard way. But that night—when those men had cornered you, when you thought it was all over—Dean appeared out of nowhere like a guardian angel, though with a lot more anger and fire in his eyes.

You still remembered the way he looked after it was all over, standing over the bodies of those men, his breath heavy, his knuckles bruised. Dean Winchester was no stranger to killing, but that night had been different. These weren’t monsters. They were people. And yet, he had done what he had to do, without hesitation, to save you.

When he brought you to the bunker, you were too shocked to argue much. The bunker was unlike any place you’d ever known—safe, hidden from the world, and full of secrets you could never have imagined. Dean had said it was just until you got back on your feet, just until he was sure you were okay. But somehow, days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and now, years had passed.

You never talked about that night, not in detail. Sam had tried a couple of times, but you always shut him down. Dean never brought it up either. Maybe it was because you all knew there was nothing left to say. Or maybe it was because none of you wanted to face what it meant—that Dean had killed for you, that he had saved you in a way you couldn’t quite repay.

But despite the horrors you had faced before meeting the Winchesters, the bunker had become a home. It wasn’t like the life you had before, where survival meant scrapping by on whatever you could find, sleeping with one eye open. Here, you had a family. Dean and Sam—despite all their mess and chaos—had become the brothers you never had. They taught you everything you needed to know to protect yourself from the supernatural, but more than that, they showed you what it meant to have someone’s back, to care about someone even when the world was falling apart.

Now, your 18th birthday was coming up, and you couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions. Part of you felt like you should leave, like you should go out and start your own life. But another part of you—the part that had grown accustomed to the safety of the bunker, the warmth of the Winchesters—didn’t want to let go.

Even after all this time, the question still lingered in the back of your mind: why had Dean been so insistent on bringing you back to the bunker that night? It wasn’t like him to make such impulsive decisions, especially when it came to something as personal as taking in a stranger. Dean was a protector, sure, but he didn’t make a habit of dragging people into his life, especially not into the heart of the Winchesters’ world.

But with you, something had been different. Something had driven him to take that extra step, to bring you home, and even now, none of you could quite figure out why.

Dean had always been guarded, keeping his thoughts and emotions close to his chest. But from the moment he had found you, something had shifted in him. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there. The way he watched over you, more protective than usual, always making sure you were okay, even when you didn’t want to admit that you needed it. Sam noticed it too, the way Dean would check in on you late at night when he thought no one was watching, or how he would get that distant look in his eyes whenever the topic of your past came up.

It wasn’t that he pitied you—Dean Winchester wasn’t the type to pity anyone. It was something else, something deeper. And yet, no matter how many times you tried to puzzle it out, you never came any closer to understanding what had driven him to act that night.

Dean never took you with them on a hunt, no matter how much you argued or tried to convince him that you were ready. It was frustrating, especially after all the training they’d put you through, drilling you on everything from how to banish a ghost to the proper way to handle a silver blade. The supernatural world had terrified you at first—so much so that, in the beginning, you’d freaked out so badly that Sam and Dean had to tie you down until you could calm yourself. But you’d learned, adapted, and eventually, you stopped being scared. At least, you stopped showing it.

Still, no matter how much you insisted that you were ready, Dean refused to let you join them on hunts. He was firm about it, more so than usual, and it always left you feeling like you were still that scared kid they’d found all those years ago.

Today, the frustration had reached a boiling point. You’d spent the day in the bunker, alone, while they were out doing what they did best. By the time you heard the familiar rumble of the Impala pulling into the garage, you were practically seething.

As soon as the garage door creaked open, you saw them—Dean, covered in blood, and Sam, looking equally worn out but less battered. You stood in the doorway, arms crossed, trying to keep the irritation out of your voice but failing miserably as you grumbled, “How was it?”.

Dean didn’t even look at you as he brushed past, his expression dark, a sure sign that things hadn’t gone smoothly. His usual easygoing demeanor was replaced by something sharper, more on edge, and that only made your frustration spike.

“Still a bit fucked up since I had to stay behind. Again”, you added, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Dean froze in his tracks, his back stiffening. He slowly turned to face you, and for a moment, you saw something flash in his eyes—something between anger and fear, though you couldn’t quite pin it down. His voice was low, almost a growl, when he finally spoke. “You think I want you out there? You think I’m keeping you here just for fun?”.

Sam, sensing the tension, glanced between the two of you, clearly torn between stepping in and giving you space to work it out. But he stayed silent, letting Dean handle it.

Your irritation flared. “I’ve been here for years, Dean. I know what’s out there, and I’m not some helpless kid anymore. I can handle myself”.

Dean’s jaw clenched, and he took a step closer, his voice dropping even lower. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m not keeping you here because I don’t think you can handle yourself. I’m keeping you here because I don’t want you out there, getting hurt, or worse”.

You didn’t back down, meeting his glare head-on. “That’s not your decision to make, Dean. I’ve been through enough. I deserve to be out there, helping, not sitting around like some… liability”.

Dean’s face twisted into something almost pained, and for a second, you thought he might actually tell you what was really going on, why he was so adamant about keeping you out of the field. But then, just as quickly, the mask was back, and he shook his head, frustration radiating off him.

“Enough, Y/N”, he snapped, turning away from you again, as if the conversation was over. But you weren’t ready to let it drop.

“Yes, Dean, it’s enough!”, you shot back, stepping into his path. “You keep treating me like a kid, but I’m not. Why can’t you see that?”.

Dean’s eyes blazed as he glared at you, his face a mixture of anger something deeper, more desperate. His voice came out like a whip, sharp and cutting. “Go to your fucking room, Y/N!”.

For a moment, you were too stunned to respond. Dean had been angry before, sure, but this? This was different. The raw intensity in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, but instead of backing down, you found yourself standing your ground, defiance burning in your chest.

You raised your brows, trying to decide if you wanted to laugh at the absurdity of him ordering you around like a child, or scream at him for treating you like one. The corner of your mouth twitched upward despite the tension, and you could see the effect it had on him immediately. If Dean was pissed before, now he looked like he was barely holding himself together as he saw the hint of a smirk on your face. It was as if your defiance was the last thing holding him together, but also the thing threatening to tear him apart. His fists clenched at his sides, the knuckles still raw from whatever fight he and Sam had just returned from, and for a moment, you thought he might actually lose it.

But instead of yelling again, instead of pushing further, he just closed his eyes for a brief second, taking a deep breath as if trying to regain control. When he opened them again, his expression had shifted—still intense, but with an undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite place. Pain? Fear? It was hard to tell.

The air in the room seemed to crackle with tension as Dean’s voice, low and dangerously calm, filled the space. “I fucking swear, Y/N, if you won’t go to your fucking room now, I’m gonna lose my shit”. The words were delivered with such a raw, barely contained fury that it made your breath hitch in your throat. You’d never seen him like this before, not even during the worst of hunts or the most heated arguments. Even Sam, who had seen Dean at his worst, looked shocked—his eyes widening in surprise and concern as he watched his brother teeter on the edge.

For a moment, you stood frozen, unsure of how to respond. Part of you wanted to push back, to keep fighting, but the other part—the part that had spent the last few years learning to read Dean, understanding the depths of his pain and the limits of his patience—knew that this wasn’t the time. The way his chest heaved, the tightness in his jaw, the wild look in his eyes… He was hanging by a thread, and if you pushed him any further, you weren’t sure what would happen.

Your smirk faded as the seriousness of the situation sank in. You weren’t just in the middle of an argument anymore; you were standing at the edge of something far more dangerous. The fight left your body all at once, replaced by a heavy, sinking feeling in your gut.

“Okay”, you said, the defiance in your voice replaced with something calmer, more measured. You held your hands up in a gesture of surrender, trying to show him that you understood, that you were backing down. “I’ll go”.

Dean didn’t say anything, just watched you with those burning eyes, his fists still clenched so tight you could see the muscles straining in his forearms. He looked like as if the smallest thing might set him off.

You walked away without another word, the sound of your footsteps echoing softly down the hallway as you left Dean and Sam alone in the heavy silence of the bunker. The tension you left behind was palpable, thick enough that it seemed to hang in the air, making it difficult to breathe.

Sam watched you go, his brow furrowed with concern, before turning his attention back to Dean. His brother was still standing in the same spot, fists clenched at his sides, his entire body taut as if he was ready to snap at any moment. Sam knew Dean well enough to recognize when he was dangerously close to the edge, and right now, he was teetering on it.

“Dean”, Sam started cautiously, his voice low and calm, trying to diffuse the tension. “You need to take a breath, man. You’re too worked up”.

Dean didn’t respond immediately. His eyes were still locked on the spot where you had just stood, his mind clearly racing with thoughts he couldn’t quite articulate. It wasn’t until Sam took a step closer, placing a gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder, that Dean seemed to snap out of whatever dark place his mind had gone.

“Dean, talk to me”, Sam urged, his voice soft but insistent. “What’s really going on?”.

Dean’s eyes finally met Sam’s, and for a moment, it looked like he might shut down entirely. But then, as if the weight of everything he was holding inside became too much to bear, his shoulders slumped, and he let out a long, shaky breath.

“I’m losing it, Sam”, Dean admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, raw and stripped of all its usual bravado. “I’m losing it with her”.

Sam tightened his grip on Dean’s shoulder, his concern deepening. “What do you mean?".

Dean shook his head, his gaze dropping to the floor. “She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t understand how dangerous this life is. I can’t… I can’t let her go out there, Sam. Not her”.

Sam sighed, understanding more clearly now what was eating away at his brother. “Dean, I get it. You’re scared. But Y/N’s not a kid anymore. She’s strong, and she’s been through a lot. You can’t keep her locked up here forever”.

But that was exactly the point, and it gnawed at Dean in a way he couldn’t fully comprehend—or maybe just didn’t want to. He didn’t want to accept the fact that you weren’t a kid anymore, that you were growing up right in front of him. Every day that brought you closer to your 18th birthday was like a ticking clock in the back of his mind, counting down to a moment he wasn’t ready to face.

No one knew how Dean really felt about you. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he understood it himself. From the moment he had saved you years ago, something had shifted inside him. He could still remember the look in your eyes that night, the way your fear had melted into a kind of cautious trust as you looked up at him, and how, in that instant, his heart had clenched in a way it hadn’t in years.

He’d buried those feelings deep, refusing to acknowledge them, convincing himself it was nothing more than a protective instinct. You were just a kid, after all, someone who needed looking after, someone who had no one else in the world. And Dean was good at protecting people—that was what he did, what he had always done. But as the years passed, that simple instinct grew into something more complicated, something that twisted inside him, especially as you grew older.

Dean knew he was teetering on the edge of something he couldn’t afford to explore. You were still so young, and he had no business feeling anything for you beyond what a protector should feel. But now, with your 18th birthday looming, the reality was hitting him harder than he ever anticipated. Soon, you’d be legally grown up, able to make your own choices, live your own life. And the thought of losing you to that, of not being able to keep you safe the way he had for the past years, was driving him crazy.

Sam’s words echoed in his mind—You can’t keep her locked up here forever. He knew Sam was right, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept. Deep down, he was terrified. Not just of the dangers you’d face out there, but of what it would mean if he had to face the truth of his own feelings. Feelings that he had buried so deep that even he couldn’t fully acknowledge them, but that were starting to claw their way to the surface.

“Dean”, Sam’s voice broke through his thoughts, grounding him. “You have to let her grow up. She’s strong enough to handle this, and you know it. What are you so afraid of?”.

Dean swallowed hard, his throat tight. He could feel the storm of emotions churning inside him, but he couldn’t let them out. Not to Sam, not to anyone. He forced himself to meet Sam’s gaze, trying to keep his voice steady, but there was an edge of desperation he couldn’t quite hide.

“I just… I can’t let anything happen to her, Sam”.

“I get that, Dean. But she’s got a right to make her own choices. You can’t keep treating her like she’s still that scared kid you found years ago”.

Dean didn’t want to think about it any longer. The more he let his mind wander down that dangerous path, the more tangled and twisted his thoughts became, until it felt like he was drowning in them. The knot in his chest tightened, and the walls of the bunker suddenly felt too close, too confining.

“I’m gonna take a shower”, he muttered, the words coming out gruff and clipped, as if speaking them was a chore. Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and headed for the bathroom, his footsteps heavy and deliberate as if each step required more effort than it should.

Sam watched him go, concern etched into every line of his face. He wanted to follow, to press Dean further, but he knew his brother well enough to recognize when he needed space. This was something Dean had to work through on his own, at least for now.

Dean’s mind was still racing as he reached the bathroom. He closed the door behind him with a little more force than necessary, the sound echoing in the small space. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at his reflection in the mirror. The man looking back at him was a mess—bloodstains on his shirt, smudges of dirt and grime on his face, and eyes that looked far more exhausted than they should.

He tore his gaze away from the mirror, not wanting to face the reality of what he saw there. Instead, he focused on the mundane task of stripping off his clothes, each movement deliberate and methodical, trying to find some semblance of control in the routine.

The hot water hit his skin like a scalding wave, but he didn’t flinch. Instead, he welcomed the burning sensation, hoping it might somehow wash away the thoughts that were eating him alive. But no matter how hard he tried to focus on the physical sensation of the water, his mind kept drifting back to you—how you had looked at him with defiance and hurt in your eyes, how you had walked away without another word.

Dean leaned his head against the cool tiles of the shower, letting the water cascade over him, trying to drown out the thoughts that wouldn’t leave him alone.

He rubbed his face hard. The tension in his body only seemed to tighten with every second. Frustration bubbled up inside him as he blindly reached for the nearest bottle of shower gel, squeezing a generous amount into his hand. But the moment the sweet scent of vanilla hit his nose, his body reacted instantly, and not in the way he intended.

His breath hitched, and he cursed under his breath as blood rushed down to his crotch, his body betraying him in a way that made his skin crawl with shame. It was your scent—soft, warm, and undeniably you. The same scent that clung to the spaces you frequented in the bunker, that lingered faintly in the air whenever you passed by. He’d never let himself acknowledge how much that scent affected him before, how it seemed to wrap around his senses and pull him into thoughts he had no business having.

Dean’s hand tightened around the bottle, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to control the unwanted arousal that surged through him. He didn’t want this—didn’t want to feel this way, didn’t want to be the kind of man who thought about someone he was supposed to protect like this. But the scent was inescapable now, filling his lungs, invading his mind, and dragging him down a path he had tried so hard to avoid.

“Damn it!", he muttered, slamming the bottle back down on the ledge with more force than necessary, the sound echoing in the steamy space. His free hand pressed against the tile wall. He closed his eyes, trying to force himself to think of anything else—anything but the way your scent clung to him now, making him think of how close you were, just a few rooms away.

But his mind wasn’t cooperating. Images of you kept flashing in his mind—your smile, the way your eyes lit up when you were teasing him or Sam, the way your body moved with a confidence that had grown over the past years. He could see the way you looked at him, the mix of frustration and something else in your eyes, something that made his heart stutter in his chest. And no matter how much he tried to push it away, those thoughts wouldn’t leave him alone.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut tighter, the guilt and shame mixing with the undeniable need that was pulsing through him. This wasn’t right. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were someone he cared about, someone he was supposed to look after, not someone he was supposed to feel like this about. But the more he tried to deny it, the stronger the pull became, the harder it was to ignore the way his body responded to you.

“Get it together”, he growled to himself, trying to will his body to calm down, to stop reacting to something that should have never been an issue in the first place. But it was no use. The scent of vanilla was too strong, too intertwined with the image of you, and the more he tried to fight it, the more he felt like he was losing control.

Desperation clawed at him as he turned the shower knob, the water suddenly turning ice-cold. The shock of it hit him like a punch to the gut, but he welcomed it, hoping the frigid temperature would snap him out of whatever trance he had fallen into. The cold water rushed over his skin, causing goosebumps to rise and his muscles to tense.

His hand still pressed against the wall, Dean leaned his forehead against the cold tiles, letting the water beat down on him as he tried to focus on anything but the ache that was building in his body. He needed to get control, needed to shove these feelings back into the box he had locked them. But it was harder than he had expected—so much harder than it should have been.

Minutes passed, the cold water numbing his skin. Eventually, his breathing slowed, and the intensity of the arousal began to fade, leaving behind a cold, hollow feeling that settled in his chest. He felt like he’d crossed a line, even if only in his mind, and the shame of it was almost unbearable.

Finally, when Dean couldn’t stand the cold water anymore, he shut it off and leaned back against the shower wall, his breath coming in slow, steadying gasps. The biting chill had done its job, numbing his skin and, to some extent, dulling the raw edge of his thoughts, though the shame lingered like a bad taste in his mouth.

For a moment, he just stood there, eyes closed, trying to push everything out of his mind. He knew he needed to get a grip on himself, to regain some semblance of control before he faced you or Sam again. The last thing he wanted was to let them see just how close to the edge he was, how badly he was fighting to keep everything in check.

With a deep breath, Dean grabbed his own bottle of shower gel and squeezed a small amount into his hand, the familiar scent of cedar and spice grounding him. He lathered it up quickly, scrubbing his skin with a kind of urgency, as if he could wash away not just the grime from the hunt, but the thoughts that had crept into his mind uninvited. He repeated the process with his shampoo, letting the suds rinse away the last remnants of the day, trying to focus on the simple, repetitive motions.

Dean finished rinsing off and turned the water off with a sense of finality. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist, then stood in the small, steamy bathroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror once more. His face was flushed from the hot and cold water, his hair damp and tousled, but it was the look in his eyes that bothered him the most.

He looked… haunted. Like a man fighting a battle he knew he couldn’t win. And maybe that was exactly what was happening. No matter how hard he tried to deny it, to push it down, the feelings he had for you were there, lurking just beneath the surface, waiting for a moment of weakness to break free.

But he couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t. You deserved better than that—better than him. You were young, strong, full of potential, and you had a life ahead of you that didn’t need to be weighed down by his baggage. By his feelings.

Dean clenched his jaw, forcing those thoughts back down, locking them away in that box inside his mind where he kept everything that threatened to break him. He couldn’t afford to dwell on it, couldn’t afford to let himself slip. He had a job to do, and that was protecting you, keeping you safe.

With that final, resolute thought, Dean wrapped the towel tighter around his waist and opened the bathroom door. His mind was still racing, but he forced himself to focus on the immediate task—getting dressed, getting his head on straight, and burying these unwanted feelings deep where they couldn’t hurt anyone.

———————————

A/N: After I already started a damn long story for Jensen and Soldier Boy, here's one for Dean.

Please let me know what you think.🥰 

-

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity

[blood-starved-beast]

Hey do you guys think about Vi hallucinating a more innocent, "untainted" by reality Caitlyn in the "Nothing to Lose" clip? Doesn't it sound familiar?

It's just like how she hallucinated Powder back when Cait took her down to her childhood home. She misses Powder then, just like in the s2 clip, she misses that Caitlyn, the one not harden by the events of the end of s1 and s2.

Caitlyn and Powder have a lot of parallels. Both are characters underestimated by the societies they are born into, and for a long time are outcasted from them. Cait is an outcast to Piltian High Society cause she rather be an Enforcer doling out Justice than playing the Politics Game. Jinx is outcasted for being well, for being Jinx. As a kid, Powder wasn't see as strong enough or respected, the same way Caitlyn isn't treated with respect. And with both of them Vi makes the same mistake of underestimating them/putting both into the Box of "I need to protect them."

The "Oil and Water" scene is often talked about, but people don't realize how it and the subsequent Caitlyn bath scene parallels another s1 scene - that is, when in ep3 Vi tell Powder to stay put while she and the guys go save Vander. Vi tells Caitlyn in other words, to stay put while she goes off (with Jayce) to handle things about Silco. Both Caitlyn and Jinx, who both have issues of self identity and wanting to be something, take it very badly in each of their respective moments. And the resulting aftermath ends badly for everyone involved - (Jinx deciding to help with the monkey bomb/Caitlyn gets scoped out for the dinner party).

What I'm saying is, that s2 is gonna be Caitlyn's "get Jinxed" moment. Vi already compared her and Powder once, back highlighting how Obsessive Cait can be with her maps in s1. She is gonna get obsessive about hunting Jinx, the source of her many many ills these two seasons. Damn everything and everyone that gets in her way. And Vi, well Vi is gonna have to confront again, this person that she cares for, has this side of them that she did not account for. And I think, much like in s1 with Jinx, the "breakup" is gonna be the consequence of it.

[merakiui]

If you’ve done this before or don’t feel comfortable doing you can just ignore this but how many kids would the text characters want vs how many they would actually have?

:O this is a fun question omg!!! Here are my thoughts~~

Riddle - wants at least one. Has one, but that's certainly not the only one. Riddle's surprisingly easy to sway sometimes, especially when he's so in love with you, and it just sounds right to give your child a sibling (or two).

Trey - wants two or three. Probably ends up having two.

Cater - he doesn't have any particular numbers in mind. He probably has one with you for now.

Ace - Wants two. Maybe he ends up having three with you.

Deuce - he wants however many you want! Probably has one for now. He cries more than you do when you break the news to him because he's just so excited and happy.

Leona - doesn't really want children of his own. He might warm up to the idea slowly but surely. If he does end up having kids with you, it'll probably be just one.

Jack - four. He has three.

Ruggie - selfishly, he wants a lot. Realistically, he knows it's expensive and also taxing on you physically and mentally. So he's content having one (maybe two at most).

Azul - more than he'd care to admit. It makes him seem so greedy. >_< he has two with you, but he's always eager to make more.

Floyd - so many!!! He wants a big family because he loves the liveliness of it all. Also,, he just loves being a father. <3 you and Floyb probably have three kids right now. He can never keep his hands off of you, so Mama and Papa Leech might be getting a fourth grandchild in the near future.

Jade - he's just as fanciful as Floyd is when it comes to the amount, but he would be content with two. He ends up having five with you LOL.

Kalim - an absurd amount. He wants a big family!! Probably ends up having seven or eight with you. ;;;;

Jamil - wants one. Ends up having two, and he loves them so dearly.

Vil - wants two. He ends up having two (a third is on the way, though).

Rook - another one who wants a big family! He thinks big families are just so wonderful. He can't quantify how many children he wants. You end up having five together.

Epel - another one who wants a big family! He wants Harveston to be filled with more young people (and the elders will definitely agree). There's no set number in mind. You probably end up having four as of now.

Idia - just one. He's not sure if he could do another with you, but he might be inclined to agree if your child starts talking about wanting a sibling. (You end up having two together.)

Malleus - so many...... Hornton wants the castle walls to be filled with noise. He treasures the family you've made. Though he wants a lot, you probably have around two or three depending on human-fae compatibility. But what you lack in magic, Malleus makes up for with his raw power. He will make sure the both of you can start a family.

Lilia - doesn't want as many as you'd think. He's counting on Silver to have children of his own so that he can be a grandfather. After all, he's getting on in age and, though fae virility is unparalleled, he wants to be around for most of his children's lives. So you likely end up having two together.

Silver - wants a few so that Lilia can fawn over the little ones. You end up having three.

Sebek - wants only one. He ends up having three or four with you hehe.

Rollo - wants two and ends up having two with you. <3

[pears-palette]

"A Tale as Old as Time..."

[ID in Alt]

This piece took me forever, but finally the Beauty and the Beast inspired Faricille stained glass is complete! And it only took like 21 hours lol. RIP my hands- remember to stretch, kids!

I feel like the symbolism is kind of obvious (for the most part at least), but I will go ahead and explain it.

MANGA SPOILERS AHEAD

Falin and Marcille are depicted in the unfortunate fate the dungeon led them to- Falin as a chimera and Marcille as an unwilling dungeon lord. Their expressions morose yet they interlock their fingers like in the bath scene. The design between them is the summoning circle Marcille stood in while resurrecting Falin. I did my best to copy the runes as closely as I could.

The golden feathers of the wing lion embrace the scene, and his symbol is also displayed at the bottom. Specifically, it is made to look like Kensuke's guard, a subtle nod to Laios, who is such an important person for both of these women. Thistle frames it with his ties to the lion, the dungeon, and his role, intentionally (with Falin's) or unintentionally (with Marcille's) unfortunate fates.

In the background, two scenes are specific to each character, and two have shared meanings for the characters. On the right, Falin's staff is lit up with magic, like the kind that teleported her party out and martyred herself. On the left is Marcille's mindscape library- the scene split in half between the black and gray of a nightmare and the color of a dream. Both symbolize driving forces in their lives- Falin's to protect those she loves no matter what, and Marcille's to escape her fears (and her own way of trying to protect those she cares about). At the bottom is the beginning- the raspberries they shared as girls that signified the start of their friendship. At the top, it wasn't the final ending but an ending nonetheless. The rabbits are tied to Falin because the rabbit stew is the catalyst to have her die for another time, a meal when one is starving, feeling like salvation despite death (Can't death be considered salvation on its own?). The rabbits also signal an extremely traumatic event for Marcille as she watched all her friends die because of them- once again, either actively in the case of her party or as the result of in the case of Falin.

[m3vl0vesu]

𝑨 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅

..............................................................................................................................

He didn’t smile. 

.

.

That was one thing you noticed about the only other kid in the classroom, one of the many Wayne kids.

 And apparently the only biological one, not that you cared really. His family was none of your business, you should really be more concerned about your own to be honest…never mind. You closed your eyes and sighed, catching the attention of the boy, who was now sitting in your chair. Well it wasn’t yours but it was yours. He watched as  you adjusted the pile of sketching paper slightly to the right, making sure they were all aligned perfectly. He watched you watching the boxes full of dis-arranged paint tubes and bottles, he saw the way your hand twitched at the scene. Weird. 

.

.

It was a Thursday afternoon and every Thursday, after last period,  you would head towards the art room upstairs. It was the only club you ever joined. You got to know everyone there and some even became your friends. But even after the club ended you’d still linger in the room. Even after you'd cleaned up your (and other people’s) mess, and you had put the pencils away, and you had cleaned the paint pots, you lingered. It had become a habit, you enjoyed the quietness. You enjoyed that the only noise you could hear was your breathing. What you didn’t enjoy was that the ‘new’ kid also liked staying behind. 

Ruining one of the only times your mind was quiet…or quieter than usual. I mean it’s not like he was loud or anything no-it was just his presence, you wanted to be alone-no. Needed do be alone. But what can you do? He liked art. He was damn good at it too. 

So there really was no point in being annoyed, just suck it up and deal with it. Like you always do. Why do you always do that? After another sigh, you swing your bag over your shoulder and walk out. You didn’t mean to slam the door, honestly there was no reason for you to be angry, Damian didn’t do anything wrong. Damian. Damian. Ugh. Why was his name also annoying? . . . As you turn the corner you stop abruptly. Looking up you meet the eyes of your Art teacher, Miss Williams, she looked down with an eyebrow raised. You smiled. You really did adore her and her loving nature, she was like a big mama bear. Gotham didn’t deserve her. She was so…her.

 Every other day she had some new fun way to do her hair, today her afro was star-shaped. Fitting. You smile softer, the sound of her voice saying your name pulling you out of your trance. “You're leaving earlier than usual” she states, almost concerned, “is something wrong?” You just shake your head, leaving after a simple goodbye

.

.

.

The bus was almost empty. Your eyes stared at Gotham Academy until it was out of sight. It was a big school, you hated it. 

Hated the rumour-filled halls, the rude pompous pricks that roamed the halls, hated that you were on a scholarship for so therefore could not escape it. And you especially hated how proud your mother looked whenever she saw you in the uniform. As the bus continued to drive you watched the big mansions and penthouses turn into dirty streets and run-down apartments. It was a big difference. Messy, dirty, bloody…home. Your eyes spotted the way the bus driver’s lips tugged upwards as you gave him a small thank you. It was probably the only nice words he heard today, it was probably the only nice words you said today. The worn-out soles of your shoes hit the ground and you begin walking, just a few minutes away from home. Each leaf you stepped on getting more darker than the last, it was almost winter. That meant that after school clubs would be closed. Barely even any schools even have after school clubs in the area, since it’s Gotham. .

.

. After a call with your mother you slowed down, not really wanting to go home. It was quiet on the streets. Oh wait. 

Now it wasn’t. There was shouting, it sounded like two-or more-male voices. You see, there's a rule when you walk the Gotham streets. Do not, whatever you do, look. Just keep walking. And you do. Don’t look. Keep walking. 

Don’t look. Keep walking. 

Don’t look. Keep walking.

Don’t look. Keep walkin- . . . After the very obvious gunshot you heard a distant thud. 

Your feet stopped and your knees felt weak, bile rising in your throat as you stared wide eyes at the pavement in front of you. Don’t look. 

You beg yourself not to turn around. 

So you close your eyes, and beg yourself not to open them. . . . Small arms wrap around you as you lay in bed, your sister mumbling about something going on with her friends. The rest of your journey home was a blur, all you know is that you will not be going school tomorrow. Even if that means lying to your parents. . . .

..............................................................................................................................

>>>>Pt.II

A/N: This is going to be a story based fic with some dark themes. Feel free to click off if any of it disturbs you in any way. I know there wasn’t much Damian in this but there will be more in pt 2! I always try to keep Reader as ambiguous as possible, this is a f!reader fic but you can read no matter what gender! :D Reblogs are always loved and as always Mev loves you!!

[funkyplantguy]

established relationship scarian where scar finds A Creature of some sort (dealer's choice) and starts in on the whole "Can we keep it?? 🥺🥺" routine to grian

i was originally going to go with a cat, then a baby warden (listen idk) then an ACTUAL baby...then landed on this (and giggled and kicked my feet the entire time as i wrote it). hope you enjoy :D

scar: g scar: grain scar: grian scar: light of my life scar: where are you? scar: i have gift grian: fishing dock scar: shoulda guessed scar: be there soon <3

grian stretched, quietly groaning to himself as his back (and wings) crackled in delight at the movement, tired of the endless hunching they’d endured over the past several hours. a gift from scar (especially an unexpected one) was sure to be���interesting. they’d been together long enough that scar knew what grian liked, of course…but sometimes…the “gifts” his partner would bring him would be more for scar’s own personal amusement than anything else.

not that he really minded, of course. not when that meant getting to see scar light up like a kid on christmas. scar was always so full of life - always giggling over something or other - and it just reminded grian of why he’d fallen in love with him in the first place. and honestly, that was gift enough for him.

despite all of that, he wasn’t quite expecting scar to bring him something...alive.

grian heard the chirping from the small bundle in scar’s arms before the man had even landed, and couldn’t help the inquisitive trill that forced its way out of him in response. and that, of course, set scar off - mimicking the noise with his own (very human) vocal cords (which only served to produce a melody akin to being strangled). he stared at grian with wide eyes as he touched down, and grian felt his cheeks burn under his gaze.

“g! i’ve never heard you make that noise before - that was so cute, do it again!”

“no,” grian chirped back, then pressed his hand against his mouth as scar laughed in delight. “scar - what is that?”

“it’s a baby!” scar responded, moving closer and tilting the bundle in his arms towards the avian. “look - it’s a little you!”

grian uncovered his mouth to retort - he very much doubted that scar had somehow found a baby avian wandering around hermitcraft - but another quiet chirp caught his attention, and he found himself leaning forward to peer over scar’s arms. and there, nestled in a pile of soft, brown blanket, was the ugliest baby parrot grian had ever seen in his life. and yet..and yet…

grian didn’t even realize that he was whistling until the baby returned his birdsong, eager little chirps and gurgles spilling out of its little fleshy beak. it tilted its head up at grian, blinking, and grian offered up a trembling finger into the makeshift nest. the chick nuzzled against it, purring softly, and something in grian’s heart felt like it might burst. he raised his face to his partner, and found scar’s gaze transfixed - but not on the parrot in his arms, but him. their eyes locked, and scar offered him a smile - something soft and warm, something that made grian want to kiss him more than anything in the world.

“can we keep it?” he whispered, and grian let out a short (wet) laugh.

“i…scar, where…where did you even find it? it’s so little…i can’t imagine its mama would have been far; she’s probably worried sick…do you really want to take the little guy from his mama?”

scar’s lower lip wobbled (and grian felt like he might be the worst person in the entire world for it).

“he didn’t have a mama! i sat and watched and waited for hours, gri, and nobody came for him…he was just all alone, on a branch in the jungle, and i got worried that something was going to come along and eat him! and…well…i figured you’d know how to take care of him. given that you’re…y’know.”

he gestured toward grian’s colorful wings with one hand, and grian’s feathers rippled obediently in show for his lover. from scar’s arms, the tiny bird chirped again, raising its little head and struggling to flap its wings in the same way grian had fluttered his. scar looked down to the parrot, then up to grian, eyes wide and sparkling as he jutted out his lower lip.

“see! he agrees! he wants you to be his new mama!”

(and if grian’s heart fluttered in his chest at the suggestion of being a mother, that was no one's business but his own. that was a topic to be discussed later - much later, in the warmth of each other’s arms and the shield the darkness their room offered for grian's vulnerability)

“we could name him…um…jeffrey!”

“scar - we are not naming our son jeffrey.”

“our son???!??” scar parroted back, jerking his head up from where he had dipped it to stare down at the chick in his arms. “our son??? so…we can keep him? really? you mean it?”

“yes, scar. i mean it,” grian responded, smiling softly at the hopeful peep from the newest member of their little family. “we can keep him.”

(and the way scar pulled him into a kiss, then, was the greatest gift of all)