#and I think it’s turned out pretty great!

[spideyjimin]

Wait for your love | jjk

—  pairing: firefighter!jungkook x female reader 

—  genre: kind of exes to lovers, parents au, angst, fluff, and smut 

— rating: 18+ 

—  summary: sixteen years ago, your life was turned upside down when you surrendered to the temptation — none other than jungkook, the star basketball player on your school’s team. today, after all that time, you reunite under tragic circumstances; a car crash where he saves your life.

—  words: 17,383

—  warnings: strong language, car accident, blood, mention of pregnancy, mention of cheating, mention of divorce, mention of sex, sever injuries, mention of death, crying, mention of heartbreak, mention of breakup, oc suffers quite a lot, mention of unprotected sex, mention of fire, mention of fighting, kissing, pain struggle, tattooed!jungkook, dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, praising, oc and jungkook are needy, choking, a bit of fingering, a bit of handjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, morning sex, slow sex (is it even a thing?), and creampie

—  author’s note: so here you finally have this fic 🤗 i’ve been working on it for a little while already & i’ve adored writing it! To be honest, this is my fav jk that i’ve ever written 🫣I truly hope you’ll enjoy this fic as much as i’ve enjoyed writing it ✨ don’t hesitate to let me know what you think of it ❤️

—  playlist: supernatural | forget about us | standing next to you | bed chem | juno

MASTERLIST

The sound of the sirens echoes in your ears.

Your eyes are completely shut, your entire body hurts, and you put your hand on your head as if you’re trying to stop the pain you’re feeling. Slowly you try to open your eyes, and you see the completely broken windshield of your car. You take a look around to notice how damaged the inside of your car is.

It’s pretty bad.

Your eyes flutter shut once more, the effort to keep them open too much to bear. Gradually, you feel yourself falling asleep. As you slip into slumber, your mind is drawn back to a painful memory — the day you gave your son up for adoption.  

Being a teen mother wasn’t on your plans. Even though you really wanted to become a mother, it simply wasn’t possible then. Having a kid at sixteen wouldn’t be easy and for sure, you wouldn’t be able to offer a proper life to that kid. It wouldn’t be fair to him to keep him only because you wished to become a mother. He deserved to have a good life, to have loving parents, and to accomplish all his dreams.

On top of that, the baby was living proof that you cheated on your then-boyfriend. Definitely, you weren’t proud of yourself. The father of your baby was a bit of a jerk, but, when he found out about your pregnancy, he showed nothing but support. It was surprising, but it felt great to have him by your side.

Giving your son up for adoption was devastatingly hard. But it was the best for him. After that, you spent the last sixteen years wondering what he had become. Every boy you met that’d match his age; you’d wonder if it was him. And sometimes, you’d regret abandoning him. In those moments, crying was the only solution.

As hard as possible, you resist the urge to fall asleep, but the headache is making this battle hard to fight.

“Ma'am,” you hear a distant voice.

Those words echo in your mind, and strangely, it feels like this voice is a familiar one. The pain must be causing some hallucination, you think. But as hard as you can, you try to find out who could be the owner of that voice.

While you think, your eyes open a bit before closing again. Your hand remains on your head, and suddenly, you remember who it is. It is the father of your firstborn.

As you realize who it might be, you shake your head. It’s impossible to be him. After the birth of your baby, you went separate ways and never heard of him anymore. Sometimes, you hope to meet him again to check what he has become.

That man was handsome as hell so you’re absolutely sure that he found someone, got married, and had children. From time to time, you think about him and wonder if he also thinks about your baby as much as you do. Maybe he doesn’t since you’re convinced he has new children to think of.

But that’s silly of you to think that because after your firstborn, you had three other adorable children: two girls, Jia and Jiwoo, and a little boy, Jeong. Being their mother and caring about them never made you forget about your first.

On top of being a mother, you also got married to Minkyu. You met him three years after giving birth, and you were convinced he was the love of your life. However, you ended up divorcing after eight years of marriage. It wasn’t easy, you felt like a total failure. Now, you’re living on your own, sharing custody of your three babies with your ex-husband. Luckily, you remained on good terms, you’d even say you’re friends now.

For the past two years, you’ve been focusing on yourself which means no relationships. But that doesn’t exclude one-night stands. You’re very careful as you don’t want your children to one day stumble upon one of the guys you’ve been fucking with. And you also want to avoid getting pregnant again.

When you planned on stopping the pill to have a child with Minkyu, your gynecologist told you that you seemed to be the fertile type. She was quite right since you got pregnant right after stopping the pill. In three years, you had three kids. So, it explains it all. And it also explains how you easily got pregnant at sixteen, the only time you didn’t use protection.

Now, you’re wondering if this is how your life ends. You’ve last seen your kids four days ago, you’re probably never going to fall in love again, and you’re never going to see your firstborn. This is a tragic way to die. Your mind only thinks about your babies.

Although your mind feels disconnected from your body, you sense a pair of strong arms lifting you up.  Your body is completely sore, and even being held in someone’s arms is painful. The person is talking to you, or at least talking to someone but your brain doesn’t process the words at all.   

Then, the pain knocks you up.

Jungkook and his team got called for a car accident involving several cars, and when they arrived, the scene was horrific.

There are probably five cars pressed and smashed one against the other. There are people injured and bleeding walking around the scene. Paramedics are already taking care of them, but Jungkook is walking to the cars to retrieve the people stuck inside. His captain screams orders and tells him which car he should go to.

His eyes look around, his heart breaking when he sees everyone involved and still stuck in their cars. Visions like this are quite common for him, it doesn’t happen all the time but it’s still recurrent. At the end of the day, his job is to save people in this type of situation.

When he reaches the car, he was assigned to, he takes a look at how many people there are inside. There’s just one person, a woman behind the steering wheel. She has her hand on her head, clearly showing that she might have a headache. She doesn’t really move. Instantly, Jungkook tries to open the door, but it’s showing a bit of resistance.

It feels impossible to open the door, but Jungkook sees the woman’s head falling. He’s getting worrier; she’s slumping into sleep which isn’t a good sign as she was holding her head barely seconds ago. He then proceeds to break the window so he can try to open it from inside. There are other possible ways, but it would be harder and more dangerous to get her out of the vehicle.

“Ma’am,” he says with urge.

Eventually, he manages to open the damn door from the inside. A good part of the car’s front is crashing into her. Before even thinking of taking her out, he places a cervical collar to protect her neck and spine.

“Ma’am,” he repeats. “Can you hear me?”

She doesn’t answer at all. Jungkook gets closer, his fingers brushing the hair from her face, but when he finally gets to properly see the woman’s face, his heart skips a beat. This woman is none other than you. His mind can’t start to get lost in the past right now. He needs to focus on taking you out of the car.   

You’re in pretty bad shape.

There’s blood on your forehead, you most probably have a wound on top of your head. There’s also blood at the level of your stomach, turning your green shirt into a very dark color. He can distinguish a big fragment of glass shoved into your belly. It doesn’t look good. Your legs are also completely smashed by the front, causing the steering wheel to be very close to your body.  Hopefully, your legs aren’t too injured. He doesn’t even want to start thinking about all the bruises on your body.

Slowly, he places one hand behind your back while his other hand slowly pushes your legs. He’s trying to be as careful as possible to avoid causing any other injury.  His strong arms hold you once he manages to fully remove you from the car. His eyes look down at your face with evident pain. He notices how you’re trying to open your eyes which makes him think that you’re trying to fight the urge to fall asleep.

“Yn,” he says while walking to an ambulance. “Please, stay with me,” he whispers with despair. “I’ve finally found you, and I can’t lose you right away.”

A tear streams down his face as Jungkook begins to run. “Fuck, fuck,” he mumbles when he realizes that you’ve now fallen asleep.  “Help me here,” he shouts to some paramedics.

Two people run in his direction with a stretcher, and he carefully places you there. His eyes never leave you until you’re placed inside an ambulance.

Never did he think he’d find you like this. For the past sixteen years, he imagined the many ways he’d stumble upon you. He thought of meeting you randomly one day in the streets, in a shop, or even in a restaurant. Meeting you after a car crash wasn’t on his mind at all.

Jungkook then proceeds to take care of the other people stuck in their cars. His job isn’t over yet, other people are waiting for his help. Thankfully enough, after so many years of experience, he’s able to focus on what he has to do.

Slowly, you open your eyes. Instinctively, you place your hand on your head since you last remember having a headache, but it doesn’t hurt—at least not anymore. For a brief moment, you close your eyes again while trying to understand what happened.  

Once you open your eyes once more, you look around to realize that you’re lying on a hospital bed. You’re in a room, an individual one. Although you’re alone in a room, can hear many people talking outside.

In the midst of all the noise, you distinguish your sister’s voice. You can’t really understand what she’s saying but she seems worried. Somebody is talking to her, but you don’t recognize the voice. After a little while, your sister opens the door to join you.

A smile appears on her face when she sees you awake. “Yn,” she says before hugging you. You wrap your arms around her, she’s holding you tight. There’s no need for her to speak for you to understand she was dead worried. It also leaves you wondering if you’re really in a bad situation.  When she finally takes a step back, you can see how worried she is.

“I was death worried,” she says. “I thought you died.”

Those words crunch your heart. The simple thought of picturing your sister thinking that is heartbreaking. However, you’re still here. Maybe not in your best shape but you’re still alive.

“Death was too afraid of me,” you jokingly say.

“It’s not funny,” she’s definitely annoyed that you’re joking. “It’s very bad, yn.”

Her eyes don’t betray her, it doesn’t look great. For sure, it’s bad since you remember seeing your car completely destroyed. Memories of the car crash come back. It happened quite fast. The car in front of you didn’t notice the car on the left. Two vehicles in front of you suddenly collided with each other. Due to the small distance and minimal reaction time, you were unable to stop in time, which led to you colliding into the cars. The same happened to the cars behind colliding into you.

“Two people died in the crash, yn, and the doctors didn’t give me many details when they called me,” she explains.

“How long have I been here?” you ask.

It leaves you wondering how long it has been since the car crash happened.

“Almost two days,” she informs.

“Oh,” you simply say.

Your sister then proceeds to explain to you that you went through a couple of surgeries.

When you arrived, you had a glass shoved into your stomach and it caused some damage. You were bleeding internally so you first had surgery to remove the glass and stitch any part of your intestines that needed to be repaired.

On top of that, your knees were destroyed and a part of your hips was broken. So after the stomach surgery, you went through a long surgery to repair your knees, and later on, another one to repair your hips.

Your sister doesn’t know the specificities of the surgeries, but those surgeries are already a lot. She also tells you that you evidently have bruises and scratches all over your body. It definitely sounds bad, but you’re under the influence of painkillers so you don’t really feel anything so far.

“Where are Jia, Jiwoo, and Jeong?” you ask looking around.

“Minkyu took them back home a couple of hours ago,” she tells you.

If your sister was dead worried, you can’t even start to imagine how your kids were feeling. You have such a strong bond with them, and they are still so young; your little Jiwoo is only four years old. You don’t even doubt that they started imagining the worst.

“How are they?” you ask.

“As you can imagine, it’s been harder for them than for anyone else,” your heart aches. “They’ve been crying a lot.”

You close your eyes, holding back the tears. It breaks your heart to have put your babies through this. Even though it’s far from being your fault, you never want to hurt your babies like that. Your role as a mother is to protect them.

“We’ve all been there for them,” she adds.

A tear runs down your face.

“Don’t worry, big sis,” she says before hugging you once more. “They’ll be so happy to see you fully awake.”

You hold her tight in your embrace to comfort you in some kind of way. For a little while, you both stay like this.

“There’s been a firefighter coming to visit you every day,” she whispers in your ear. “A handsome one, actually.”

A little giggle escapes your lips.

“Stop saying nonsense,” you give her a little tap.

She takes a step back with the brightest smile on her face.

“I’m very serious, yn,” she says. “The firefighter that saved you has been coming to check up on you.”

Well, it sounds like he’s kind of adorable. It’s definitely very sweet of him to take the time to check up on you after saving your life.

“He’s extremely hot too,” she adds.

“Stop it,” you say. “You’re exaggerating!”

“I am not!” she instantly replies. “You’ll see when he comes.”

You roll your eyes. She’s definitely unbelievable as always, but she’s your sister. You love her beyond comprehension because she was your very first baby. You have a ten-year gap and you’ve been taking care of her since the very first minute she was born. Your parents had her very late; they were almost 40 years old but the happiest.

When you were around two, they started trying to have a second child. However, it didn’t go as planned. Your mother suffered two miscarriages and after that, it became even harder to have a child. Eventually, when you were around eight, they gave up. They were happy to have you and settled with the idea that you’d be an only child.

But against all odds, a year later, she got pregnant. The pregnancy went to full term, and that’s how you became a big sister.

The gap between you was harder around your teenage years. All you were thinking about was boys, and all she wanted was to play. She also wanted to have a younger sibling, but your parents were already too old for that. Your mum said that she couldn’t handle another big age gap between her kids.

Your sister was the happiest when you announced your pregnancy at sixteen. She was only six back then, and that baby would have been like the little sibling she always desired to have. She was devastated when you explained to her that you wouldn’t keep the baby. Your parents were too but they understood and supported your decision.

Outside your parents, nobody ever knew that Jungkook was the father of your first son. At first, your ex-boyfriend thought that he was the father, that maybe a condom broke and that’s how you got pregnant. But you always knew that he wasn’t the father. It simply wasn’t possible. It all got confirmed when you birthed a baby that looked a lot like Jungkook.

You still remember how heartbroken your ex was, and you couldn’t blame him. The breakup was too hard to handle back then so you never told anyone who the father was, except for Jungkook. He deserved to know the truth. You weren’t expecting much from him as he was the basketball star of your school team. And above anything else, he was a complete jerk.

Nevertheless, he proved you wrong when he supported you. He was by your side for the entirety of the pregnancy. He came to all the ultrasounds and gynecologist's appointments. He was there, and he completely stopped being a jerk to your eyes. Eventually, you became closer, but you refused to be more than friends even though you had strong feelings for him.

Why?

Because it’d be too hard to stay with him after giving up your son for adoption. Jungkook was also supposed to leave for one of the best colleges after that. It was in another city, and you knew he’d stay if you dated. You refused to let him give up his dreams for you. You broke his heart; you could see it in his eyes, but it was for the best. If you were meant to be, you’d find your way back. But it never happened. After that, you completely lose contact.  

There’s a knock on the door. Your sister proceeds to open it, letting the person come in. “Speaking of the devil,” she turns her head to look at you with the brightest smile on her face.

When the famous live-savior firefighter enters, the entire world completely freezes. The firefighter is none other than Jungkook. Your heart skips a beat when your eyes meet. After all these years, you finally see him again.

A smile spreads on his face when he sees you awake. You can tell that he’s relieved. For an instant, you take a proper look at him. He’s still wearing his firefighter uniform, indicating that he most probably came from a mission — if that’s the correct word to use. His hair is very short and a tiny bit messy. Above anything else, he absolutely looks tired, the dark circles under his eyes betraying him.

“Hi,” he simply says as he takes a step inside.

“Hi, Jungkook,” you reply.

Your sister is at first taken aback by the fact that you know his name, but as she takes a proper look at your facial expressions, she can tell that you know him.

“I’ll leave you two,” she says before disappearing.

“How are you feeling?” he asks while getting closer.

“I guess fine for now, but not sure, how I’ll feel when the painkillers will no longer have any effects.”   

His eyes scan your face while yours do the same. His beauty is still breathtaking; you’d even say that he aged like fine wine.

“Thanks for rescuing me from the car crash,” you add.

“No need to thank me,” he instantly replies. “It’s part of my job.”

“I still need to. Without you, I wouldn’t be here today.”

Even though it’s part of his job, he saved you, and he deserves to be thanked for that. You would have said it to any other firefighter.

“It’s good to see you awake,” he says.

There is so much you want to say to him, but at the same time, now that you have him in front of you, you don’t even know what to say.

“I just quickly passed by to check up on you,” he informs you. “I need to get back to work.”

“No problems,” you reply. “Thanks for coming.”

“Would you mind if I come back later?” he nervously asks.

Your heart is now racing in your chest. Of course, you want him to come back so you get to catch up and find out how he went from basketball player to firefighter.

“No, I wouldn’t mind,” a little smile appears on your face.

“Thanks,” he says before waving goodbye and leaving your room.

Seconds later, your sister storms inside your room. She has that expression on her face that says: ‘who the hell is this guy?’.

“Who is he?” she asks while taking a seat.

She’s definitely expecting to hear something like: “he’s a guy I slept with after my breakup”, or “I met him at a bar”, or anything of that sort because it was obvious there was something going on between you. The look you both had wasn’t saying we were simply friends. It was a look screaming “something hot and sexy happened between us”.

“The guy that knocked me up sixteen years ago.”

“Mama,” your oldest daughter, Jia says. “When are you leaving the hospital?”

An hour ago, the doctor in charge of you came to explain the extent of the situation to you. Since you now have metal wires in your knees, you’ll have to go through a long recovery, and you’ll have to follow physiotherapy to learn how to walk again.

On top of that, your intestines were stitched, and it will definitely be hard for a moment to eat and drink. So, for at least ten days, you’ll remain in observation at the hospital. There is for sure a very long recovery ahead of you, but what matters is that you’re still alive.

For what is coming, you know you can count on your family’s support, and without any doubts, seeing your babies will help you navigate the hard times. Obviously, you’re also very self-aware that sometimes, it might be too hard, and during those times, even your support system won’t be enough.

“I’ll stay for a little while, boo,” you answer.

She seems a bit sad by your answer which is totally understandable. Briefly, you take a look at Jiwoo and Jeong to see if they also look sad, and they have the exact same facial expression as their older sister.

Your ex-husband, Minkyu is also present. It’s logical since it’s his week with them, and also because you were literally in a coma. When your eyes meet, you give him a little smile. By the way he’s looking at you, he definitely seems worried.

“But you’ll see, time will go by super-fast,” you try to reassure them. “And very soon, I’ll be home with you.”

You can’t wait to go home and be with them even though for a little while, due to the recovery time, it won’t be easy at all. But you’ll be with your babies which honestly is the only thing that matters.

Your babies jump on the bed and hug you. Feeling all this love coming from the little human beings you create warms your heart beyond comprehension. Although the pain is starting to kick in, you pretend like you don’t feel anything because you want to savor this moment with them.

Jeong, your son, shows you what he drew at school for you. He takes the time to explain what it represents. It’s definitely adorable. Then, Jiwoo tells you how her day went by. She played a lot with her friends, she learned to count until 20, and her teacher told her she was an amazing learner. Her face was shining, and you couldn’t be prouder.

Your oldest daughter doesn’t speak much, letting her younger siblings talk. You then try to make her talk about her day, but she bursts into tears, hiding her face in your chest. Your heart definitely breaks while you hold her in your arms.

“What happened, boo?” you caress her back, trying to comfort her as much as you can.

She’s heavily crying, your shirt getting wet with her tears.

“My little boo-boo,” you whisper. “What’s going on?” you add. “Tell me.”

She hugs you even more which squeezes your heart. You don’t like seeing your babies like that.

“I thought you were dead, mommy,” she sniffs.

“Oooh, my boo-boo,” you really want to cry at her words. Imagining her thinking that is one thing but hearing her saying it out loud is something completely different. “I’m so sorry.” That’s all you can say.

Jiwoo and Jeong join the hug, trying in their own way to comfort their big sister. This is a heartwarming hug, and it comforts you beyond comprehension. It’s hard to see them like that, but it’ll get better with time. Minkyu joins you for what is like a family hug now. This right here is the only thing that you need.

After this uplifting moment, your ex-husband and babies leave you alone in this cold hospital room. They need to go back home; the kids need to wash, do their homework, and get ready for bed. You wish they could have stayed longer because you don’t want to stay alone.  

The pain is now unbearable, and it honestly scares you for the long recovery awaiting you. Luckily, right after your family left, a nurse came in to give you dinner together with strong painkillers.

The food is —as imagined— disgusting. There’s nothing you can do about it, but tomorrow, you’ll try to convince your sister to bring you a pizza or sushi or some fast food. There’s no way you’ll survive ten days with this horrible food.

A little later, someone knocks at the door. As promised earlier, Jungkook appears inside your room with a bright smile on his face. You return the smile as it honestly makes you happy that he’s here.

“Hi,” you say.

For a brief moment, your eyes linger on his figure. He’s no longer in his firefighter uniform;  he’s dressed in an all-black outfit that, in all honesty, suits him well. A pair of jeans, a tight shirt, and a leather jacket give him an entirely different vibe from earlier. His hair, now perfectly arranged, makes him look strikingly similar to how he did sixteen years ago.  

“Hi,” he walks closer to you.

His eyes notice the serving tray with the empty plate.

“Was it good?” he points to the empty plate.

“It definitely wasn’t,” a little laugh escapes your lips while you shake your head. “The good thing is that the dessert was a chocolate mousse.”

Jungkook’s smile grows bigger on his face.

“Your favorite dessert,” he whispers.

Now, you’re the one smiling more. When pregnant, you could eat a chocolate mousse without growing tired of it. Due to that, you gained quite some weight during your first pregnancy. Anyway, it was the least of your concerns since you knew you were about to give your son up for adoption.

“You still remember…”

“How couldn’t I?” he instantly says. “You were eating it night and day.”

You giggle as you remember it.

“You weren’t helping too,” you accuse him. “Whenever I’d ask for one, you’d make it, and you’re a good cooker.”

Jungkook was your personal chef. Whatever dish you’d ask for, he’d prepare it. His mousses were so delicious that you found yourself always craving them. The ones from the supermarket simply couldn’t compare to Jungkook’s.

“Well, for my defense, I couldn’t let a pregnant woman starve,” he puts his hands up.

It doesn’t feel like sixteen years happened since you last spoke. It’s great you found each other again. It wasn’t under great circumstances, but he’s here now.

“That was nice of you,” you gently say.

“Do you mind if I take a seat?” he points to the chair near your bed.

“No, no,” you shake your head.

Jungkook sits down before turning to you. He’s incredibly close now, allowing you to get a better look at him. He’s definitely gotten older, the wrinkles on his face can’t lie. The beginning of a beard is also easily noticeable.

“How bad does it hurt?” he seriously asks.

“Is it that obvious?” you say.

Jungkook nods. Honestly, this time around the painkillers aren’t helping much. Your entire body aches, you can’t even say which part hurts more.

“It’s pretty bad,” you answer. “Even with the painkillers now, it hurts like hell.”

“If you want, I can call a nurse,” he suggests.

“No, it’s fine,” you answer. “I’ll probably need to wait a bit more before it really takes effect.”

Jungkook doesn’t really listen to you since he leaves the room. You roll your eyes but with a big smile on your face. It’s incredible how he didn’t change after all these years. He used to never believe you when you were in pain.

A few seconds later, he comes back with a nurse. They are talking, and he’s explaining that I’m in extreme pain. He’s exaggerating a bit the reality. However, the nurse administers you a stronger painkiller and she also tells you that you shouldn’t hesitate to call her if you’re suffering. Then, she leaves. Slowly, you’re finally feeling the pain going away.

“You didn’t need to do that,” you tell him once the nurse leaves the room.

“Yes, I needed,” he instantly says. “There’s no way I was leaving you suffering unnecessarily.”

Jungkook seems definitely concerned.

“You don’t have to play the strong girl after this terrible car crash.”

He’s not wrong, but this is one of your flaws. You’ll only take a painkiller unless you don’t have much of a choice. Most of the time, you don’t take anything as you’re convinced you can handle anything.

You simply nod while Jungkook sits again on the chair. This time, you start talking about what has been going on in your lives for the past sixteen years.

Jungkook barely managed to finish his college years because he honestly had his mind somewhere else. After all, he had become a father, given his son up for adoption, and had his heart broken by the girl he always had a crush on. He didn’t mention the last part. He had tremendous regrets about how everything went down.

Right after college, he became a firefighter; a passion he randomly discovered the summer before. Saving lives, and helping others in need is what truly fulfills him. He considers his job as his own therapy even though it’s not always easy to deal with the horrific visions he might encounter.

Eight years ago, he met a French girl who had recently moved here. They fell in love and had a little boy, Noah. He’s four years old today; the same age as your youngest daughter. His eyes were filled with love when he started speaking about him. He said his boy is a mini version of his mother so he barely looks Korean. He even has blue eyes.

However, he’s no longer with her. They broke up three years ago and they aren’t really on good terms today. She already threatened to move back to France with Noah. They went through a tough legal battle for their son’s custody. It’s a shared one, and Jungkook’s parents are the intermediates between them. They pick up Noah at her place to bring him to Jungkook’s, and vice versa.  

It honestly broke your heart to hear about all that. It doesn’t seem to be an easy situation, and hearing his story makes you feel even more grateful for the good relationship you maintain with Minkyu.  

Then, you proceed to tell him about what your life has looked like for the past sixteen years.

“Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about our son,” you honestly say.

Four months ago, on the 2nd of June to be precise, your son turned sixteen. He’s the age you were when you gave birth to him. Since that day, you’ve definitely been wondering what he has become. Is he also about to become a father? You hope not.

“Well, I always think about him, but lately, it’s been more than usual,” you explain. “And I also imagine him with my other kids, and I wonder what bond they’d have.”

Jungkook only nods. “I get that,” those are his only words.

You refrain from continuing to talk about your son as it seems to affect him in some way. Maybe it’s simply too hard for him to think about that son you didn’t keep. You understand that so you prefer to stop talking. But his next words definitely catch you by surprise.

“I’ve found our son.”

Seventeen years ago

As you step inside the pretty big basketball court, your eyes immediately look for a place to sit. There aren’t many people watching the team’s training. You place yourself in the very last row, almost as if you’re trying to hide yourself —or to hide your little secret.

Instinctively, your eyes look for Jungkook, the best basketball player. He’s the reason for your presence. Quickly, you take a look at your watch. The training should be over soon.

Your heart is beating crazily in your chest. What you have to tell him isn’t easy, especially since you don’t really know what to do. You’re actually even convinced that he’ll tell you to fuck off. Jungkook is known to be a jerk after all.

The man notices you while running in the court. His eyebrows frown, as you’re the last person he was expecting to see here. The past month has been hectic because things have been hot and cold with you. For a while already, he has been having a massive crush on you, but he’s never said anything because you’re in a relationship with Minho.

Even though he’s known to be an asshole, he never wanted to be the reason for your separation. However, last month, you had sex, and you’ve been feeling guilty since then. He can only understand you so he’s stayed away to give you the space you need. Nevertheless, you would sometimes interact and to his surprise, you’d be nice.

“Jungkook,” someone screams.

He grabs the ball that is thrown at him, and he’s focused again on the game. The end comes rapidly. Jungkook walks directly in your direction and you give him a little smile. As he gets closer, he instantly notices the sadness in your eyes. He sits down next to you with heavy breathing. His face is red, his hair is wet, and he’s all sweaty.

“Hi,” he says with a smile.

“Hi,” you reply.

Deep down, he’s kind of hoping you’re here to tell him that you’ve broken up with Minho. That’s all he’s ever wanted, especially since he slept with you.

“How are you?” he asks with evident concern.

“Not good,” you bite your lower lip, tears already forming in your eyes.

Jungkook directly pushes you into his arms to comfort you. Tears stream down your face while you hold him tight in your embrace. You hold him as if your world depends on it. Quickly, you start sobbing which breaks Jungkook’s heart. He’s definitely worried now, especially since he would have never imagined you coming to cry into his arms. He gently rubs your back in silence, letting you cry in peace.

This scene seems unreal to him.

After a little while, you take a step back to clean your face, dabbing at the tears that seem to not stop. You’re sure you look like a complete mess right now with your red eyes, face ravaged with tears, and trembling hands. Jungkook is staring at you, his gaze filled with heavy unspoken words.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“Don’t worry,” he replies.

Jungkook tugs a strand of hair behind your ear.

“It’s not easy what I have to say,” you admit.

“It’s okay,” he gently says. “Take your time.”  

Jungkook has never been a jerk with you. He’s definitely a tease, and he’s been teasing you for months now. But he has never been mean or rude. Even though it’s been quite obvious to you that he was flirting with you all this time, he’s been nothing but respectful and never crossed the line.

But that was until you couldn’t resist him anymore.

Obviously, he’s a very handsome guy and it flattered you a lot that he was interested in you. However, you’re in a relationship with Minho. He’s been your boyfriend for a couple of months, and you adore him. But Jungkook has shaken everything up. It was obvious that one day you would surrender to temptation.

Jungkook is very good in bed, there’s no doubt about it. Your one-night stand was a memorable one, but you’ve felt nothing but guilt since then. And you also hate yourself. How could you have done that to Minho? He’s been nothing but an angel to you. You clearly don’t deserve him.

“I’m pregnant,” you admit.

Jungkook’s body freezes completely. Of all the things he was expecting to hear, this definitely wasn’t one of them. This is quite a bombshell! This will forever change your life, and he can only sympathize with you. Now, it leaves him wondering if he’s the father.

“Is it Minho’s?” he asks after a couple of seconds. “Or mine?”

“It’s yours,” you inform him.

Although this is a piece of very destabilizing news, he kind of feels proud to be the father of your child. It’s a weird feeling but the chances of him being the father are quite low since you’re in a relationship.

“You’re sure?” he asks.

“Of course, I am,” you almost sound offended. “I always use protection with Minho,” you whisper. “And if you remember correctly, we didn’t.”

“Right,” he nods.

You were so in the heat that a condom was the last thing you both thought of, but you used the pullout method. Looks like it wasn’t the brightest idea. It would have been best if you had been more careful. Now it’s too late to go back in time. Now, there’s a baby on the way.  

“I’m so scared to tell him,” you admit.

Tears start running down your face again.

“What will I become now?” you add. “My life is ruined.”

Jungkook cleans your face because he doesn’t like to see you in this state.

“Your life isn’t ruined, yn,” his thumb caresses your cheek.

“How can’t it be ruined?” you desperately say. “I’m pregnant; I'll give birth in less than nine months. My life will all be about that baby, I’ll have to drop school, and I’ll have to be a parent when I’m still a kid.”

The man in front of you can only understand your despair. His life will also drastically change from now on. Most probably, he’ll also need to give up on his dream college to work and provide for this baby.

“I’m here, and we will find a solution,” he whispers. “You’re not alone.”

You shake your head. There’s no way you’ll find a solution. It is simple: there’s a baby on the way, and outside that, there’s the whole situation where you cheated on your boyfriend.

“And Minho will be completely heartbroken,” you start crying even more. “Out of all people, he’s the one that doesn’t deserve that!”

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. For sure, it isn’t great to cheat on your partner, but he knows he’s very much capable of doing it without having any remorse. He’s perfectly aware that he isn’t the greatest guy on earth when it comes to love. Even though he has a crush on you, he isn’t convinced he’d be the right one for you.

“My life is destroyed,” you repeat once more.

The basketball player pulls you once again in his embrace. His strong arms are comforting, and you realize now that you did great by coming to talk to him.

“We’ll find a solution,” he whispers in your ear.

Little did you know at that moment that he was right. A week later, you both agreed to give your son up for adoption. It wasn’t an easy decision, but it was the best one. You could feel it inside your bones.

From your room’s window, you admire the landscape that stretches before your eyes. The view isn’t the prettiest but at least, it’s something different than the tv. For the past three days, you could only be lying and sitting on your bed. It’s been horrible.

Jungkook has been coming every day to check up on you, and you’ve been talking a lot. It’s honestly so great to reunite again and to finally discover what he has become for the past years.

Your sister has been very curious about your reunion with the father of your firstborn. She also asked if Minkyu ever knew about him. You never hid from your ex-husband the existence of your first child, but you never told him who the father was. There was no need to do so.  

Your sister informed your parents who saved you, and they already saw him again. They really liked him when you were pregnant, so they were very happy to meet him again.

Jungkook didn’t tell them that he found your firstborn, and you’re grateful he didn’t because you don’t even know what to do. You asked him to give you some time to process the information. He’s been nothing but respectful.

This morning, you started walking for the first time since the surgery. It was beyond painful to even move one leg, but you bear with the pain of walking a little bit. Since the first day, you’ve been having physiotherapy sessions to help with the recovery. At first, the sessions only consisted of moving your legs while remaining in bed. Now, you get to walk a bit.

The physiotherapist handed you a cane today. It’s incredibly glamorous!

The good side is that you can now move from the bed to the chair more easily. You obviously still need a lot of help, but it gives you a bit more freedom.

Slowly, you try to stand up as you need to go to the bathroom. Right there, someone knocks at the door before entering. You expect to see the nurse since you call for her, but you’re surprised to see Jungkook. As he notices you struggling to get up, he rushes to help you out.

“Shouldn’t you be asking for the nurse to help you?” he asks.

“The nurse should be coming,” you reply.

“Is it okay if I place my hands on your waist?” you shake your head.

His hands instantly reach your waist, holding you firmly while you stand up with shaky legs. Feeling his presence around you reassures you, especially with his strong arms holding you. Your eyes quickly glance at him when you’re proudly standing up, and he looks incredibly hot with his red cheeks and messy hair.

At this precise moment, you feel like your teenage self, who was deeply attracted to him. The version of yourself who had deeply fallen in love with him when you were pregnant. That nostalgic feeling kind of warms your heart.

“I’m happy to see you finally out of that bed,” a smile spreads on his face when your eyes meet.

His stare is softer now, and it’s evident that he truly means what he just said.

“Me too,” you admit. “Couldn’t stand being on that bed anymore,” you laugh a little. “It’s been driving me crazy.”  

The nurse finally arrives, but she instantly leaves as you inform her that Jungkook is helping you.

At a very slow pace, you start walking in the bathroom’s direction. Jungkook stands next to you, his hands very close to you, ready to catch you any minute.

“I’ve been thinking,” you start saying as you put your right foot in front of the other.  

“About?” he asks.

It’s extremely frustrating to be walking as fast as a turtle, but there’s not much you can do right now.  You have brand-new knees, so you need to learn to walk with them, which will take some time. Plus, you also need to adjust to the pain these new knees cause.

“About our baby,” you answer.

Jungkook is taken a bit aback; he wasn’t expecting you to bring the topic up this early.

“About Sunny,” you add.

Sunny is the nickname you gave to your son. Neither you nor Jungkook wanted to give him a name, as you knew it’d be too heartbreaking to let him go. The nickname came naturally, and it gave your son a human dimension. When you were pregnant, it almost didn’t feel real that there was a human inside you since you couldn’t see him.

A little smile appears on his face as he remembers how you used to call your firstborn.

“I’d like to hear the story of how you found him.”

For the past sixteen years, you’ve dreamed of meeting your son one day, but it was just a dream. You never thought that it’d actually happen. Obviously, you could have done everything in your power to find him, but that wouldn’t be fair to him. However, you’re now curious to hear how Jungkook found him.

“Well, maybe you should go first to the bathroom because there’s a lot to be said,” you simply nod.

Jungkook is wearing his firefighter uniform, and it suits him incredibly well. It definitely shows off his toned chest which could satisfy any hungry eyes, like yours, for example. Any lady would like to be saved by him.

Once you arrive at the bathroom, he waits outside for you. It takes you a bit of time to pee, wash your hands, and leave the room. It’s painful too, and all you hope for is to go through this terrible phase as fast as possible.

The firefighter helps you to sit on the chair, and his kindness warms your heart. No doubt that he makes a great life savior.

“So, tell me about Sunny,” you say the second you’re comfortably sitting.

Jungkook takes another chair to face you, and he rests his arms on the little table placed in between you.

“I found him to same way I found you,” he looks down at his hands with a little smile on his face. “I was called for a fire in a building complex almost two years ago,” he starts explaining. “It was early in the morning, something like 6 am, and it was a pretty big fire. There was a fourteen-year-old lying on the floor, coughing like crazy so I naturally took him out of the building.”

Jungkook takes a little break, his eyes going from his hands to your eyes. His stare is intense; it unsettles you at first.

“Once outside, I almost felt like I was looking at you and myself at the same time,” his voice is soft. “And one of my colleagues even said that the kid oddly resembled me.”  

You can’t imagine how it must have felt for him.

“I instantly knew it was Sunny, but I kind of didn’t want to believe it,” his eyes clearly show how sad he feels. “If it wasn’t him, it would have broken me. I was already going through shit with my ex, so it wasn’t an easy time for me at that time.”

It’s visibly not easy for him to be talking about the situation with his ex-girlfriend.

“A couple of days later, he appeared at the station with his mother to thank me for saving him. In the daylight, it was more than obvious we shared DNA. Even a blind person could see the striking resemblance, but nobody said a word as if we were all scared to say the truth.”

“That must have been an unbelievable moment,” you whisper.

“It definitely was,” he chuckles. “But looking back now, it’s almost funny. I still remember how shocked his mother was when she first saw me. Sunny looked confused, but his mother’s reaction was extremely funny.”

It eases your heart to know that he looks back at that moment with delight.

“The day after, she came back but alone this time because she wanted to talk to me.”

His right hand grabs one of your fingers to play with it, causing your heart to hammer crazily in your chest. Jungkook is incredibly nervous to be talking about those moments, and he needs to look at something else than you.   

“As you can imagine, she asked me if I was his biological father, and all I could tell her was that I wasn’t sure. I then proceeded to tell her that I had a son at seventeen and that we gave him up for adoption. She naturally asked me when he was born, and then, there weren’t any doubts anymore. He was undoubtedly Sunny,” a smile full of pride appears on his face. “I’ve been in contact with him since then, but I don’t force anything. I’m just happy to see him.”

For a moment, you look at him with wonder. This man is evidently happy to have found his firstborn and to be able to be part of his life. Jungkook didn’t really want to give his son up for adoption, and you knew it. For a long time, you considered changing your mind because it was obvious that he wanted to be a father. Even though you were in love with him, adoption wasn’t about you or him. It was about Sunny.

That baby boy deserved to have a good life. Not a chaotic one where you regretted having him because he was the impersonation of your sin, or because he destroyed your life as you became a teen mom. You weren’t able to give him what he needed, and it was the best decision to have a family giving him what you couldn’t.

“What’s his name?” you ask.

Right now, you don’t know if you ever want to meet your son. It already brings you so much joy to know he found his biological father. But you’re also wondering what his name is. He has always been ‘Sunny’ to you.

“Taemoo,” he answers.

That’s a pretty name. His parents found the perfect name for that little boy.

“It’s beautiful,” you say.

“Not as pretty as Sunny,” he jokingly says.

Your fingers wrap around his right hand. This is a vulnerable moment for both of you. It brings you back to a past where you were confronted with a harsh reality. Nothing was easy back then. You were ripped between your hearts and minds. The heart wanted to keep Sunny, but the mind was being realistic.

The tears shed from the day you had to give him up still haunt you to this day. The heartbreak painted all over Jungkook’s face never leaves your mind. That day was the hardest day of your entire life; it ripped your heart open.

“Do you think there was a possibility we could have kept him?” you ask with a shaky voice.

His eyes look up at you.

“Maybe,” he frankly answers. “If we weren’t that young and stupid, we could have been the parents he needed.”

“I definitely was stupid,” you shake your head.

“You weren’t,” he says without any hesitation. “You made a mistake, but that doesn’t make you stupid.”

“Say that to Minho,” you retort.

Jungkook giggles.

“I would never approach him, even now,” that makes you smile. “My face still hurts from his punch.”

After the pregnancy announcement to your ex-boyfriend, it was pure chaos. Minho went completely out of control due to his heartbreak. Obviously, he insisted on knowing who the father was, but you never flinched. Nonetheless, he instantly understood that it was Jungkook. He had noticed how he was constantly teasing you.   

So, the first thing he did was punch Jungkook in the face. The basketball player didn’t even fight back as he believed he deserved it. After all, he slept with a taken woman with absolutely no regrets.

Minho got even angrier because he wanted the player to respond. He was devastated by what happened, and you could only understand him. The day after, he went to another high school, and you never heard from him anymore.

“To be honest, yn,” he starts saying. “Back then, there wasn’t a possibility to keep him. My soul wanted to keep him, but it was for selfish reasons. I wanted to be a father but couldn’t be one back then. There isn’t a day where I don’t feel grateful for the tough decision you took and stand for. It would have been a complete disaster.”

His hand squeezes yours, and just right there, with his words and touch, you just burst into tears. Those tears just came by total surprise, but deep down, those are the tears you’ve been holding back for sixteen years. Hearing about your son and remembering the harsh moments you faced when he was inside you caused reality to hit you right in the face.

Jungkook instantly pushes the table aside to hold you in his embrace. You place your face on the crook of his neck while your arms wrap around him. It feels like you’re brought back to seventeen years ago when you announced your pregnancy.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper.

“Don’t be sorry,” he responds. “You’re going through a lot now.”

There are some words Jungkook is dying to tell you, but it’s definitely not the appropriate moment. This is already shaking you up, so no need to add an extra layer.

Taemoo would like to meet you; it’s been actually one of his dreams. Jungkook has already told him a million things about you, and your son has been beyond happy to hear all those things about you. He also got to see a picture of you when you were sixteen.

So Jungkook definitely wants to tell you that Taemoo would like to meet you, but he doesn’t know if this is the right time, especially since he doesn’t know how you’ll react.

“Sometimes I regret so much that I gave him up,” you honestly say. “Sometimes it’s just unbearable to remember the day I handed him over to the adoption center.”

His strong hands caress your back in an attempt to comfort you.

“It’s normal,” he whispers. “I do too,” he admits. “There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t think about his birth and when we said our last goodbyes to him.”

You hold him tightly, his strong arms comforting you in an unbelievable way. You don’t want to let go of him. All you want is to cry in his arms until there aren’t any tears left.

“We did well, yn,” he tells you. “Sunny has been having a wonderful life. A life that we could have never given him,” he tries to reassure you. “His parents love him so much, allowed him to follow his dreams, and gave him everything he ever needed.”

As he got to meet Taemoo and his adoptive parents, he can reassure you now.

“They are adorable people,” he adds. “And they’ve been taking good care of our Sunny.”

Jungkook spent most of his life wondering if good people adopted his son, and he would have hated himself if it wasn’t the case. But when he got to meet Taemoo’s parents, he saw how great they were. And above anything, he saw how great they raised him. Taemoo is a wonderful kid with a wonderful soul.

Hearing those words definitely reassures you. It comforts you that Sunny has been doing well and landed in a loving family. At the end of the day, that’s all you ever wanted for your baby.

“Thanks,” you whisper.

The firefighter smiles while holding you a bit tighter. For a little while, you stay like this without saying a word. Reuniting with Jungkook is the best thing that happens in the midst of all the chaos your life has become. It also allows you to think about something else other than the excruciating pain you constantly feel.  

A nurse enters your room while you’re reading one of the many books you’ve had left to read for the past years.

“There is a young man who says he’s your son. Should I let him in?”

You frown in confusion, momentarily wondering if your son has been mistaken for someone else. Nevertheless, you nod.

“Yes, please,” you say, placing your book aside and grabbing your cane to keep it close, just in case.

A soft knock sounds at the door before it opens, revealing a tall, nervous teenager. Your heart stops as you take in his face. It isn’t Jeong—but your oldest son.

As Jungkook described him a week ago, Taemoo definitely looks like the two of you. Nevertheless, his resemblance with his biological father is surprising. There is absolutely no doubt that he is Jungkook’s son. You understand now his mother’s reaction when she saw the firefighter.

“Hello,” he says, his voice tentative, holding a bouquet of bright sunflowers.

His hands tremble slightly as he steps inside. As you look a bit more at him, you can’t help but notice that he’s dressed thoughtfully, a gesture that tugs at your heart.  

This moment feels absolutely unreal. Merely days ago you found out about his name, and today he’s standing in front of you.

“I am Taemoo,” he continues.

As you look at this not-so-little man, you wonder what you could say to him, but you have no clue.

“Hello Taemoo,” you manage, your voice soft and unsteady. “Come in,” you add.

Taemoo—or Sunny as you’ve been affectingly calling him for the past sixteen years—comes closer with some hesitation. He’s clutching the flowers like a shield. Despite the nerves, there’s a quiet strength about him.

“I don’t have much to offer, but I have water, cookies, biscuits, and hot chocolate. Would you want something?” you propose.

“No, thanks,” he gives you a little smile.

“Please take a seat,” you offer while showing the chair next to yours.

For a little moment, he hesitates before sitting next to you. Your heart is hammering in your chest, ready to burst any second. The little man you gave birth to sixteen years ago is now standing before you. The same boy you gave up for adoption merely three days after his birth.

“Sorry, I didn’t properly introduce myself,” he mumbles.

As much as you want to tell him that he doesn’t need to, you need to hear him say it out loud.

“I am Taemoo, your son,” he says.

“Hello, Taemoo,” you gently say. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again.”

Tears start running down your face as you look at him. Sixteen years ago, you were holding him in your arms while your heart was completely ripped out. You were looking down at him knowing you’d have to say goodbye.

“I… I brought you these,” he shows the bouquet in his hands.

Your chest tightens as you take the flowers. “Thank you,” you say, your voice thick with emotion. “They’re beautiful—sunflowers are my favorite.”

“I know,” he murmurs, glancing at the floor. “Mr. Jeon told me.”

Your heart melts; this boy definitely seems to have a big heart. More silent tears run down your face while you look down again at the flowers.

“I have to ask,” you say after a little while. “How did you find me?”

You try to clean your face to compose yourself.

“I was in the hospital for a checkup, and I noticed Mr. Jeon at the front desk asking about you,” he explains. “I also know your name because he gave it to me when we met,” he adds.

You nod slowly, absorbing his words. It kind of warms your heart that Jungkook talked about you to Taemoo, but it aches your heart that this is how he got to meet you. You would have largely preferred you had organized this reunion.

“I’m glad you came.”

Your firstborn shifts nervously in his chair. “I wasn’t sure if I should,” he admits. “I didn’t know if you ever wanted to see me.”

It breaks your heart to hear those words as you picture him worried to come. There’s no doubt that it’s brave of him to come here. He could have stumbled upon a mother who didn’t want to see him; he was for sure aware of it.

“Taemoo,” you start saying. “You have every right to be here,” your voice slightly trembles. “I’ve spent the last sixteen years wondering how it’d be to see you again.”

But you also wondered if it was a good idea to even look for him. You never wanted to shake his world up, especially after giving him up for adoption.

“I don’t want to bother you,” he says. “I just…” he’s quite hesitating to continue his sentence, and you nod, silently encouraging him to proceed with what he has in mind. “I just needed to see you.”

“You’re not bothering me at all,” you reassure him instantly.

For a moment, silence falls between you, heavy with unspoken emotions. You don’t add anything else as you let him take the lead. He’s the one who was brave enough to come so you want him to say everything his heart desires.

“I have questions,” he finally speaks. “About why. Why gave me up for adoption.”

You swallow hard, the lump in your throat growing.

“Jungkook never told you why?” you question.

“Yes, he did but he never spoke on your behalf. He only gave his reasons.”

This is the Jungkook that you know, and it is very fond of him.

“I couldn’t be a mother,” your voice trembles. “I desired nothing more than to be a mother for you, but I couldn’t give you what you needed. I wanted you to have a life I couldn’t give you at the time.”

It’s hard to tell him why you abandoned him. You’re not even sure he can understand your reasons.

“I was just a girl when I had you; I was your age. I was so scared, but I thought only about your future. You deserved to have a good life, to have parents who would give you everything you needed. In my mind, the best thing for you was to give you up for adoption.”

There’s also the part where you cheated on your boyfriend, but that’s something he doesn’t need to know.

His expression is unreadable, but you notice his hands unclenching. This might be a good sign.

“Did you regret it?” his voice is barely above a whisper.

“Every single day,” you confess. You’re unable to stop the tears now. “The day I handed you over was the hardest day of my life. I’ve spent the last sixteen years wondering what you’ve become, but I was too afraid to find you,” you feel extremely vulnerable in front of your son. “I thought you’d hate me.”

Taemoo looks away, staring at the floor while he processes your words. It isn’t easy for him to be here and to know the truth. Jungkook said the same time. He was too young to be a father; he was a total idiot back then, and he tried to give his son the best life he could.

“I don’t hate you,” he softly says, and relief washes over you. “I never hated you because I had a good life, but I’ve spent my whole life wondering if I would have had as well a good life with my biological parents.”

You’re convinced it wouldn’t have been the case.

“Thanks for answering my questions,” he gently says.

Another silence settles between you, but less tense this time.

“Mr. Jeon…” he hesitantly says. “He told me you like books,” he says, changing the subject.

At this stage, you’re wondering what Jungkook hasn’t said about you. First, there are the flowers; now, it’s the books.

“What are you reading?”

You’re grateful he swifts the topic of conversation. It was heavy to be talking to him about your painful past. Smiling, you reach for the book on the bed, and show it to Taemoo.  

“It’s one of the books I bought years ago but never read,” he takes the book to look at it.

“I like books too,” he admits while looking at the book. “Mostly history, and fantasy too.”

Your heart warms as he gives you a small glimpse into his life.

“I’d love to know what you’re reading,” you say. “Maybe you could recommend me something?” you’re hesitant.

“Sure,” he straightaway answers. “Maybe next time.”

“Next time,” you murmur while holding onto those words like a lifeline.

Taemoo gives you a small smile. Slowly, you reach for his hand, and for a brief moment, he freezes, then lets you hold it.

“Thanks, Taemoo,” your voice is filled with emotions.

He nods with still that small smile on his face. “If you don’t mind, we could exchange numbers?” he asks with hesitation.

“Yes, of course,” you smile at him, giving his hand a small squeeze.

Your phone is on the other side of the bed, so you slowly try to get up with your glamorous cane. Taemoo stands up without any second thoughts to help you out. He’s already as tall as Jungkook; you don’t doubt he’ll be taller than him. You walk very slowly, and your son doesn’t leave your side in case you need him.

Once you’ve reached your phone, you unlock it to give it to him. “You can type your number and save it,” you say.

Taemoo freezes when he notices your background. There are three kids, and he realizes how much they resemble him. Even though he looks a lot like Jungkook, he also takes a lot after you.

“Are those my siblings?” he asks when he glances at you.

“Yes,” you answer. “I had three other kids years after you.”

“They look adorable,” he tells you before proceeding to save his number on your phone.

He calls himself, so he can also have your number. After that, he helps you to sit again on the chair before leaving the room.  The room suddenly feels empty as Taemoo leaves you alone with the flowers and the overwhelming realization that your son—the boy you thought you’d lost forever—is finally back in your life.

Today, Jungkook took a day off because he’s going out with you.

It’s not really a date —at least, that's what you’re both trying to convince yourselves. It’s been like a week that you’re out of the hospital, and he promised he’d take you on a car ride. Even though you walk better than you did some days ago, you’re still very slow. However, it doesn’t change the fact that you want to go out a bit.

For the past few days, you’ve both spent a lot of time together. It’s been great to be around you again. Things are very different now because you’re both grown-ups with kids, and there’s a lifetime that happened since you last saw each other. But he still feels the same around you. He still has that massive crush on you.

Honestly, he thought that with time, it’d fade away, but he was wrong. He understood it the second he pulled you out of that car. Being around you brings him peace. He feels like he doesn’t have to play a role; he simply can be himself.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“Somewhere,” he quickly eyes you before focusing on the road again.

Sixteen years ago, he knew he could never have you because of the circumstances. It was obvious to him that you loved him back, but it simply wasn’t possible. However, today, things are different. He still has a crush on you, and he will do everything in his power to not let you go.

“You’ll like it,” he smiles at you.

You look at him with suspicion.

“Let’s see,” you mumble.

Since you’ve been discharged from the hospital, Jungkook has been kind of scared to put you back in a car. So, for this day out, he asked you a million times if you’d be okay. You reassured him because it didn’t really frighten you.

Your baby daddy has been thoughtfully thinking about the place he could take you to. There are for sure hundreds of places, but he wants something special. However, above anything else, he wants to distract you.

He has noticed how you sometimes contort with pain. Definitely, you try to hide it but he can see it through your eyes. Most of the time, he feels sorry to see you in that state. It doesn’t look great at all. Nonetheless, he’s been trying to help.

Taemoo has also passed by once or twice at your parents’ place. Jungkook has never been present because he wants you two to get to know each other without him being in the middle. He definitely wishes the three of you to be reunited, but let’s take this step by step. It’s difficult for everyone.

“How has it been going to come back home?” he asks.

“Not easy…” you admit. “The kids struggle to not be staying at my place, even myself.”

Unfortunately, you can’t stay alone since anything can happen and you need help. So you’re staying at your parent’s place. You’re sleeping in your old bedroom that has since been transformed into a kid’s room for your babies. Your old bed is still there, but it doesn’t feel like your actual bed.

“They cry when they have to leave with their father. They really want to stay at my parents’ place with me, but it’s already very crowded.”

Your sister still lives with your parents, she’s only 22; she’s still very young. Well, she refuses to let you call her young because, at 22, you were getting married to Minkyu.

“They understand the situation, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s hard for them.”

Jungkook nods as he can only imagine how this situation feels for everybody. Hopefully, things will slowly get better, and you’ll be able to recover quickly.

“I don’t like to complain, but it’s already physically hard, so seeing them like that makes it harder,” you admit.

It leaves you wondering if it will be like that until the end of your recovery.

“Then, it’s a good thing I take you out for a little bit today,” he smiles, trying to change the conversation.

“It is,” you smile at him.

It’s warming your heart that he has been very present for almost a month. There hasn’t been a day where he didn’t visit you, even if it was for five minutes. You feel lucky to have him during this tough time; he’s been quite a comforting and reassuring presence.

After maybe half an hour, you reach a parking lot from a park located on a high hill. It’s a park you and Jungkook terribly loved. You’d come here towards the end of the pregnancy when you couldn’t sleep.

“So, what do you think?”

“I like this place,” a bright smile grows on your face.

“I know,” he says.

This is definitely very thoughtful of him.

Jungkook leaves the car to help you get out of it. As you think you are going to walk for a bit, the man just holds you in his arms, one of his arms under your back, and the other under your legs. You instantly wrap your hands around his neck. Your faces are pretty close, and all thoughts are shut down by the irresistible desire to kiss him.

“Since there’s a lot to walk before reaching our spot, it’s better if I bring you there,” he confesses.

“Always trying to play the superhero,” you mumble.

“Eeh, I’m not,” he straight away answers. “I’m just trying to make your life easier.”

You roll your eyes while giggling.

“I can let you walk if you prefer but don’t blame it on me afterward,” he says while slowly pretending to put you down.

“Okay, okay,” you retreat in defeat. “Take me there.”

A smile grows on his face before he starts walking in the direction of your spot. It’s a bench where you have the perfect view of the city. At night, it’s wonderful as the buildings are lightening up. You spent many nights here sixteen years ago with your head on his shoulder, and your hand on your belly. Sunny would kick quite a lot during those moments, and Jungkook’s hand would rest on your bump to feel his son.

You were young and stupid, but definitely in love at that moment. A month before your son’s birth, you shared a passionate kiss on that bench. It was a highly desired one. You shared other kisses afterward but they never felt like that first one.

Surprisingly, when you reach the famous bench, nobody is sitting there. Usually, back in the day, that bench was always occupied during the day, only being empty at night.

“It almost feels like you booked the bench,” you chuckle.

“I could of,” he answers. “But I don’t have the means.”

Jungkook sits you down on the bench before taking a seat next to you. Gently, he grabs your legs to place them on top of his. He’s aware of how painful it can be for you to have your knees bent. At least like that, they are almost flat.

“Thanks for bringing me here,” your eyes look at the handsome firefighter instead of the pretty view.

The man only offers you a gentle smile, and the two of you now look at the city stretching before your eyes. It is very different than it was sixteen years ago. The city has grown bigger, some buildings were replaced by others or some even were destroyed. Everything is different while still being the same. Like how it feels to be around Jungkook.  

“Can I ask you a question?” Jungkook breaks the silence between you.

Your eyes look back at him, and his expression is unreadable.

“Sure,” you nod.

“Would you have given us a shot if you hadn’t gotten pregnant?” he asks with some sort of hesitation.

The questions catches you by surprise as it is the last thing you thought he’d ever ask.

“To be honest, I don’t know,” you say. “I was feeling so guilty about what I did to Minho, I felt stupid, and I was avoiding you.”

Well, he felt that.

“I avoided you because I really adored what happened with you,” you say. “You were really good in bed,” he smiles at your words. “But I looked at you differently because I got pregnant.”

Sixteen years ago, you never had a conversation about your feelings for him. But it definitely looks like you’re having it now.

“You were by my side every second. You’d cook whatever I was craving, you’d be at every appointment, you’d hold me when I cried, you’d do anything when I was in pain, and you’d bring me here when I couldn’t sleep.”

Your heart is beating fast as you’re about to pronounce the next words.

“I fell in love with that Jungkook,” the firefighter’s heart is also hammering in his chest. “Not with the jerk who’d flirt with me.”

His cheeks are getting red with shyness. After all these years, and even though he knew his feelings were reciprocated, he feels like a teenager falling in love for the first time.

“We were two when we conceived Sunny, so I naturally had to get my shit together and be by your side and help you as much as I could,” he says. “I was for sure a jerk back then, but I’d always assume the consequences of my actions.”

His heart is hammering faster as he takes his courage to speak out loud about how he has been feeling about you. 

“I also had a crush on you so I also saw that as a way to spend more time with you,” now you’re the one blushing.

Anyone observing this scene from outside would instantly get how smitten you are. The person would even bet that you’re together.

“Do you still have a crush on me?” you question.

You’re way too curious, but you definitely want to know because damn, you’d kiss that man right now.

Jungkook gets closer to your face, his hands moving to your thighs to caress them. Not in a sensual way.

“What would happen if I say yes?” he whispers when his face is extremely close to yours.

“You’ll have to find out,” you teasingly say.

His eyes move from your eyes to your lips as he desires nothing but the same as you. To kiss you.    

“Yes,” he says without any hesitation. “I still have a crush on you.”

You bite your lower lip before breaking the small space between you to fervently kiss him. Having his lips finally against yours feels like a relief, almost as if you’ve been waiting sixteen years to feel them again.

The kiss is shy at first as if you’re both scared but it slowly turns into a desperate and fervent one. One of his hands goes to the back of your neck while the other remains on your thigh. Your hands cup his face while you intensely kiss each other. 

This feels like heaven for you two. You open your mouth, giving him free access to it. His tongue doesn’t hesitate one second to find yours. Gently, your tongues meet and it feels wonderful. Inside of your lower belly, thousands of butterflies are freed. Never have you thought that this would happen again although you’ve thought about it since reuniting with him.

When you’re both out of breath, you break the kiss and rest your forehead against his. For a moment, you simply look at each other while you catch your breath. Jungkook’s fingers softly caress your face, and you close your eyes to savor this moment. 

“I’ve dreamed of this since I found you again,” he admits.

Jungkook presses once more his mouth against yours. A soft moan leaves his mouth when your lips meet. He wants to keep doing this forever. He teasingly bites your lower lip which causes a moan to escape your mouth. A devious smirk appears on his face but he gets back to kissing you fervently.

Before the kiss takes a very dirty turn, you break it. “It isn’t the appropriate place for that,” you whisper.

He giggles as he realizes he was ready to take it to the next level in a public place. The firefighter presses a gentle kiss on your lips before you resume to admire the view.

After a couple of hours, he takes you back to your parents’ house. Your mind is filled with euphoria from the kisses you shared earlier, and you can’t help but smile every time you think about it. Kissing Jungkook still feels the same. It still tastes like heaven.  

When you’re home, you notice nobody’s here which is a bit weird, especially since you warned your parents you’ll take a shower today. Maybe they went for a walk since you were with Jungkook.

“Would you mind staying a bit?” you ask. “I need to take a shower, and I wouldn’t feel comfortable alone.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he says.

Jungkook assists you until you reach the bathroom and grabs underwear, a bra, pants, and a shirt from your bedroom.

“You’re sure you’ll be able to be by yourself?” he asks with concern.

“I have a stool and everything I need has been placed at the stool level,” you explain. “So don’t worry.”

Jungkook can’t help but feel worried. Even if it’d be weird to be in the bathroom with you, he’d feel reassured.

“If I need anything, I’ll call you,” you add.

There’s not much he can do, except to leave you alone.

“Okay,” he presses a gentle kiss on your lips before leaving.

You sit on the stool to get undressed. To remove your shirt and bra, it’s quite easy, but to take off your pants and panties, it’s a whole other story. Your mother has been helping you a lot with the shower part, and you’ve been feeling like a five-year-old who can’t do much by herself.

The last two showers, you’ve been able to do everything by yourself, and you’ve been very proud of yourself. However, right now, you’re struggling a lot. It’s frustrating you beyond comprehension, but you remind yourself that you need to calm down otherwise, it’ll only be worse.

After a little while, you simply resign and call for Jungkook. He arrives in a rush, and his heart breaks a little when he sees your defeated face.

“Struggling?” he asks when he notices your pants stuck at your knees level.

“I can’t push them further than that,” you pout.

He walks in your direction, kneeling before you. “Let me help you.”

His hands carefully push your pants down and throw them onto the floor. Then, before even touching your panties, his eyes look up at you, asking for your consent. Even though you called him for help, he wouldn’t want to cross any line. Consent is important, after all.

You simply nod, you don’t have much of a choice here. His fingers brush against the skin of your hips, causing goosebumps all over your body. Last time he touched you there was the day you conceived Taemoo, sixteen years ago. Your eyes are frozen on him.

Jungkook grabs the hem of your panties to push them down your legs, his fingers brushing against your hot skin. You’re now fully naked in front of him, and it feels incredibly weird although he already saw you like this. But at the same time, it feels reassuring to have him here with you.

“Do you want me to help you wash? Or would you be fine now?” he asks while standing up.

“Help me please,” you almost beg. “Not sure I’ll be able to wash if I can’t even remove my clothes,” you laugh a bit.

You try not to cry at this whole situation. It’s better to laugh at it than cry.

“Okay,” he turns the water on. “You’re going to wash your hair?”

“No, no,” you answer. “Just my body.”

The man in front of you nods and hands you the showerhead.

“Let me know when it is too hot,” he tells you.

You’re holding the showerhead with one hand while the other is below to check the water temperature. In the meantime, Jungkook removes his socks in order for him to get inside the shower.

Once done, his eyes look at you with admiration. For almost a month, you’ve been going through hell with everything that has been going on. You’ve been handling things like a champion even though it’s sometimes very clear you’re suffering terribly. He has nothing but admiration for you.

His heart swells with happiness because, in the midst of all that, you chose to let him be by your side. He even got to kiss you.

“It’s good now,” you tell him with a smile.  

Jungkook grabs the showerhead to run it over your body. He carefully executes the task while being extremely focused on not forgetting any body parts of yours.

“With my mum, we always do the intimate parts at the end,” you inform him.

“No problem,” he answers.

Once your body has been fully covered in water, he seizes the shower gel.

“Do you want to do it?” he asks with the gel in his hands.

Usually, with your mum, you do it, but with Jungkook, you’ll gladly let him do it. You really want to feel his fingers touch your body. 

“Could you please do it?” he nods.

Jungkook understands that you simply want to feel his touch, and he won’t complain as he desires nothing but to touch your soft skin.

There is nothing sexual about this moment. The two of you would even say that it’s a very intimate moment, even more intimate than sex.

The man covers your entire body with soap before holding back the showerhead to clean you. Once done, you stand up so you can clean your last body parts, which are your vagina and ass. This time around, you want to do it yourself as you feel like it could take a naughty turn if he touches you down there.

Jungkook leaves the shower. “Where are the towels?”

“In the storage cabinet below the sink,” you inform him.

Seconds later, when you cut the water, he wraps you in the towel before you sit back again on the stool.

“Thanks for your help,” you say.

As you slowly wake up, you feel a warm presence behind you which is something not normal. Since you’ve been back from the hospital, you’ve been sleeping alone in your old bed.

Then, you start remembering what happened yesterday. After the shower, your parents arrived and were very delighted to see Jungkook. A bit later, your sister came from work. Your parents naturally invited him to stay for dinner.

Once dinner was over, you practically begged him to stay the night. You then went to your room, and watched “Enola Holmes 2”, but you instantly fell asleep with your body pressed against his, your head against his chest.  His heartbeat was the little melody that rocked you to sleep.

Your eyes adjust to the light in which the room is immersed. You turn around to see Jungkook sleeping like a baby, and he looks absolutely adorable.

In this quite big bed, it seems like he’s so far away from you as he isn’t close to you. There’s a distance between the two of you that makes you smile; you know he purposely put that distance. He respects you way too much, and he wouldn’t do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. 

You turn again before closing your eyes to remember what happened yesterday. It was an intense day, but intense in a good way. As you remember the kisses you shared, you run your fingers over your lips. He still kisses like a god.  

Yesterday, you felt so much alive. You didn’t feel that way for already a couple of years. Hopefully, this is a feeling that’ll stay longer. You don’t want it to fade away so soon.   

Suddenly, the bed moves behind you. A big hand carefully wraps around your waist while a mouth presses a gentle kiss on your shoulder, and a body snuggles up against yours. Instantly, your eyes close to savor this precise moment. 

Both of you snuggle together for a little while, just enjoying the closeness of your bodies together. Waking up with someone and with his arms wrapped around you is something you haven’t experienced in a while. The last time it happened was when you were still married to Minkyu.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he whispers with his hoarse morning voice before pressing a sweet kiss on your neck. 

Goosebumps rise all over your skin because this is a beautiful way to wake up. Damn, you wouldn’t mind waking up every day to this.

Jungkook feels your shivers beneath his hand, a smirk growing on his face. It feels like a victory to have already made you feel this good so early in the morning.  

“Morning, Jungkook,” you whisper. 

Naturally, your back arches, pushing your ass back to meet his crotch which makes him groan against your skin. Your cheeks instantly turn red and you push your ass away from his intimate parts.

“Sorry,” you say.

Jungkook also feels a bit embarrassed that his little friend down there is already all turned on. But what can he say, he spent the night with the girl of his dreams.

“I’m the one who’s sorry,” he whispers. “I’m already all turned on.”

Since you’re still flustered, you don’t dare to turn to look at him. He’s also grateful for that; he would hide his face in the pillow if you ever look at him.

“It’s not a bad thing,” you say. “I mean, it’s normal.”

“I know, but it’s awkward for both of us,” he answers.

For a moment, you don’t say anything as you try to find your words.

“I’m actually flattered,” you break the silence. “Wasn’t expecting to turn someone on this early in the morning.”

Jungkook gets closer to you once more, his hard member pressing against your ass through his underwear. That feeling alone causes your walls to clench around emptiness. You also bite your lower lip to repress any moan that might escape your mouth. You’re at your parents’ house, anyone could hear you.

His arms wrap around your waist once more before he presses another kiss on your neck. A very soft moan manages to escape, causing Jungkook to feel some kind of pride. His fingers slip beneath your shirt to caress every part of your body with his cold fingers.

Your back arches at the sensation while one of your hands goes to his head, your fingers running through his hair. Your other hand goes to your mouth to muffle the sounds of your moans. You don’t know exactly what time it is, so you’re not sure if there’s somebody at the house. To be safe, it’s better not to moan like a mess.

Then, his fingers move down on your body, pushing your pajamas’ pants and underwear together. The cold air that brushes against your core makes you grow wetter. Thank god you have your hand in your mouth because there’s no doubt this would have made you moan.

His fingers slowly get closer and closer to your bundle of nerves. By the time his fingers reach your clit, you’re already completely soaked. 

“Someone else is already all turned on,” he whispers in your ear before licking and nibbling it. “Tell me what you want, sunshine.” 

The simple fact that he asks what you want is a big turn-on. Men tend to forget that during an intimate moment, it isn’t all about themselves and their pleasure. It’s about two people trying to give and have pleasure.

Your back arches a bit more, rubbing your ass more against his semi-hard cock. A deep growl echoes against your ear. Your mind is going completely crazy. There’s one thing you desperately crave right now: him inside you.

“You,” is actually the first word that crosses your mind. “You inside me with your hand on my throat,” you clarify. 

Well, the only time you had sex with Jungkook, it was pretty wild. You both discovered how much you adored having his fingers tightly around your neck. It gave a totally other dimension to the sex. It was even more intense, and you loved it.

“You’re sure?” he still asks to be sure.

He doesn’t want to cause any more pain. 

“Absolutely,” you reassure him.

Your eyes close when his free hand finds its way to your neck, his wonderful and delicate tattooed fingers wrapping around your throat. This feels wonderful, and it gets you wetter.

As you feel a moan ready to leave your mouth, you sink your teeth into your lower lip. There’s no way you’re going to muffle all your moans. This is already too wild for you, and you know it’s going to get even wilder.

“I’d give anything to see the way you look with my hand around that pretty neck of yours, sunshine” he whispers in the shell of your ear, his deep voice emphasizing the word ‘sunshine’. 

With your eyes closed, you can perfectly picture the way his hand fits on you. Jungkook can imagine it too, causing chills to run through his skin. 

While his hand caresses your neck, the other one does wonders to your clit. The torture is exquisite, nothing feels as good as having his hands on you. His hand works harder on your core to make you wetter. The man is already desperate to give you what you want. Him inside you. 

Once he feels you’re wet enough, his fingers leave your pussy alone to pull your leg up a bit, this way will be easier for him to push his cock inside you. Quite rapidly, he takes off his underwear.

“At any time, let me know if I hurt you, okay?” he whispers with evident concern.

“Don’t worry, Kook,” you say.  

His lips pepper the back of your neck with kisses. Your hand goes behind to stroke his cock a bit before rubbing it for a little while against your soaked core. 

“Shit, yn,” he groans against your skin. 

You bite your lower lip because, damn, it’s fucking hot to wake up to this.

As you feel him growing harder in your hand, you decide to push his length into your heated core. Your pussy sucks him all in, his head stretching you open as he goes further inside you.

“You always feel amazing,” he hisses once he bottoms up.

Small and barely audible moans and whimpers leave the two of you as you both enjoy feeling your bodies connected. Jungkook doesn’t move for a few seconds, giving your body time to adjust to him.

It’s been a while since you last had sex together, and Jungkook’s cock tends to be quite big. That was for sure something you’d never forget. How could you? If you compare to all the dicks you experience, he’d be the biggest.

But it isn’t the kind of big that makes it painful. It’s actually the opposite. You’d say that his dick is simply perfect.

“Move, Kook,” you give him a small slap on his ass to urge him. 

You need him, in ways you can’t even express. 

The man doesn’t need to be told twice before he starts thrusting into you very slowly and deeply with his hand still around your throat. The slick sound of your pussy soaking his cock as well as the creaky bed quickly fills the room. 

Jungkook takes all his time, he isn’t rushing anything because damn, he wants you both to enjoy this moment. His lips stay on your shoulder, pressing soft kisses to avoid moaning. His other hand holds your leg up while he rolls his hips in a way that you absolutely adore. 

The hand on your neck and his dick deep inside you are the perfect combos to make you come in a snap. None of you speak, only enjoying this torrid moment.

The man behind you feels that he’s slowly losing you, that you’re losing yourself further in the pleasure that only he can give you. So, he lightly tightens his hand around your throat to help you reach your orgasm faster. 

“Fuck,” you swear as his fingers wrap tighter around your neck. 

This is more than bliss for you, you could just come right now because of his hand but you don’t want to let go of your orgasm. You want to let it grow immensely until it becomes too overwhelming for you. You want this orgasm to be like an explosion of fireworks inside you. 

“You take me so well,” he whispers before bringing your face closer to his to press his lips against yours. Your walls clench around him causing his cock to twitch inside you. A guttural groan leaves his pretty lips, a groan that you happily swallow.  

Wanting to bring him closer to the edge, you start moving your hips in circles while he keeps thrusting into you at a very slow and torturous pace. His lips leave yours, his eyes close shut, and barely audible moans keep flooding out of his mouth.    

“Keep doing that, yn,” he pants.   

His cock goes deeper inside you, filling you up fully and hitting all the right spots which causes the pleasure to grow stronger within you. Your moans are harder to suppress, it feels good to be railed by Jungkook this early in the morning. Morning sex is honestly one of the best types of sex.

He groans deeply against your ear, your orgasm building stronger and stronger. You know that in a matter of seconds, you’ll be coming undone, and Jungkook senses it too. Your hips never stop moving in tandem with his but as you get closer to your high, your walls squeeze him harder. 

As he gets lost in the euphoria of the moment, he starts thrusting more harshly. Both of you are chasing your own orgasm while bringing the other closer to the edge. It doesn’t take you too much time to be fiercely hit by that overwhelming wave of pleasure, making you come undone around his massive cock. 

“Jungkook, fuck!” you cry with ecstasy, your hips stopping completely to move but the man behind you never stops moving. 

“Can I come inside?” you simply nod, barely able to make a proper sentence in the middle of this euphoric state.   

Both his hands move to your hips, gripping them tightly as he releases his thick load inside you. A lewd moan escapes your mouth when he pumps his hot cum inside you, pushing it as deep as possible inside you. 

For a little while, both of you stay in this position, his hands still holding you tight against him while his cock remains inside you. None of you wants to break this moment but you have to since you’ll need to leave the bed.  

Very slowly, you remove yourself from his cock to stand up from the bed. “Can I ask you to help me put on my underwear and pants?” you ask.

Without hesitation, Jungkook stands up while grabbing your clothes. As yesterday, he kneels before you to dress you. A smile spreads across your face as you look down at him. This man is, without any doubt, the kind of man you want to have in your life. He’s been nothing but a sweetheart with you.

“Thanks a lot, Jk,” you say once fully dressed.

The man carefully spreads your legs to situate himself between them.

“No problem, sunshine,” he presses a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Also, I’d like to mention that I take the pill,” you mention with a silly smile on your face. “So we won’t have any other surprise kid.”

Jungkook smiles and kisses you once more.

“I’m glad to know that,” he whispers against your lips.

Still fully naked, he stands up to assist you to do the same. Once you’re straightened up, you take the glamorous cane. At the same time, Jungkook puts his clothes back on because there’s no way he’s going to leave this bedroom naked. It’d be way too embarrassing.

This impressive man helps you go to the bathroom and, then, to the kitchen. At first, it seems like there’s only the two of you since you don’t hear any noise. However, to your surprise, when you reach the kitchen, you find your sister sitting at the table and eating breakfast.

“Good morning,” you say with evident joy.

“Only good morning to you,” she snaps back.

You frown with confusion. Your sister looks you dead in the eyes, totally ignoring Jungkook’s presence in the same room.

“I really didn’t need to know how you two conceived your first kid,” she explains.

Both you and Jungkook open your eyes wide; you weren’t expecting that at all. But there were chances that someone would have heard you. It’s definitely weird your sister was the one. You wouldn’t want to hear her having sex with someone.

“Hopefully, this time around, there won’t be any other kid,” Jungkook manages to say.  

Your sister laughs a bit. “I like this one,” she takes a sip of coffee. “He seems better than the other ones, and he’s also a lot hotter than them.”

Jungkook starts laughing as he helps you to take a seat.

“She’s funny,” he whispers to your ear.

“Don’t be silly,” you tell your sister. “And please, go find a guy so you don’t drool over mine.”

Although you haven’t defined your relationship for now, he’s flattered you consider him as ‘your guy’.

“How can I compete with a firefighter?” she teases. “Anyone will feel boring next to Jungkook,” she adds.

“If you want, I can introduce you to my colleagues,” he suggests.

“Don’t encourage her in her nonsense,” you tell him.

“Yes, please,” she says with enthusiasm.

You roll your eyes. She’s unbelievable and definitely very crazy, but that’s maybe why you love her so damn much.  

After that, together with Jungkook, you prepare breakfast while speaking with your sister. She leaves a couple of minutes later because she needs to meet with her best friend downtown. And right after her, Jungkook leaves you alone in your parents’ house which breaks your heart. However, you don’t stay very long by yourself as your kids come to visit you with their father.

Three weeks later

You and Jungkook are sitting at a table in a fancy restaurant. Your heart is beating fast with nervousness.

“Everything is going to be fine,” he tries to reassure you while resting his hand on top of yours.

“Don’t know,” you mumble.

Today, you’ve organized a dinner with Jungkook and Taemoo; your first time as a family. It’s weird to even think about it, but Taemoo really wanted to spend some time with you, together. Since he proposed this, you’ve been feeling very nervous. You’re a bit scared of how things will go when you’re finally the three of you together.

“There’s no reason for this to not go well,” he answers.

Before you can even answer, Taemoo joins you with a bright smile on his face. Like the first time you met him, he’s very well dressed.

“Hello,” he says. “I brought you these,” he hands you a tiny bouquet composed of three sunflowers. “It’s one sunflower for each of us.”

Your heart has completely melted now. This kid is so damn thoughtful, just like his biological father. His parents definitely raised him well, and it only reassures you that the decision you made sixteen years ago was the right one.

“Hello, Taemoo,” you say while standing up to hold your son in your arms. “Thanks a lot.”

Your firstborn wraps his arms around yours. This is a heartfelt moment; being able to hug him fills your heart with so much love. It feels like holding Jiwoo even though you didn’t raise Taemoo. Unfortunately, you can’t hold him for a long moment due to your wonderful knees. So he then greets Jungkook before taking a seat in the empty chair.

“Thanks for accepting this,” those are his first words.

Although he seems very happy and relaxed, you notice he’s a bit stressed.

“After seeing you separately, I really wanted to spend a bit of time with the two of you,” he starts saying. “Not sure how this will evolve in the future, but I’d like to sometimes organize this kind of diner.”

For the past few weeks, your life has drastically changed, and honestly, sometimes, you feel like it’s too much. However, having Jungkook and Sunny back in your life is what you consider to be a blessing. In all this chaos, you found two deeply important people that you left sixteen years ago.

The sixteen-year-old version of you was devasted to part ways from them two, thinking that you’ll never see them again. If she could see this today, the heartbreak would have been less painful. But that version of you is beyond happy today to see the three of you sitting at the same table.

This car accident destroyed your knees and stomach, but it has brought you Jungkook and Sunny. All of this would not be happening without this accident.

You also can’t wait to see your three other little munchkins with the man you love and their older sibling. Undoubtedly, that day will be the most wonderful day of your life. Now, you feel like you can finally truly be happy. You now have all the people you need to be happy.    

[marzipanandminutiae]

would you have any reading suggestions to learn more about the earrings are evil era??? I've never heard of that aspect of fashion history and I am curious

Oh man, it was wild

you saw the first stirrings of it in the 1890s, when you started to get (mostly white and middle-to-upper-class) proto-feminists arguing that ear piercing was barbaric- keep an eye on the racist undertones there; they will come up again-and forcing women to suffer for fashion. I cannot emphasize enough that, until that point, ear piercing had been pretty much normal for this race/class/gender group. For centuries. You see criticism of the practice here and there, but nothing that really stuck.

The objections slowly increased until roughly the mid-1920s, when everything reached a tipping point and pierced ears became largely taboo for most white Americans and Brits of northern/western European descent. If that sounds HIGHLY specific, it is- communities from southern and sometimes eastern Europe retained cultural practices of ear piercing, to the point where it was often used as a point against them by mainstream society. It was also associated with Latino people, Black people, and the Romani, which. Yeah. I don't need to tell you how that went down.

It also developed associations with sexual immorality and/or backwards thinking. One newspaper letter I read came from a teen girl in the 1940s, wondering why she shouldn't pierce her ears if her very respectable grandmother had piercings. The response was something like "well, they did all sorts of things in the Bad Old Days that we shouldn't do now." True in many ways, or course, but...piercing your ears? That's the hill culture decided to die on as far as antiquated behavior that we should leave behind? Apparently yes.

Earrings themselves never went out of style, which led to the birth of clip-ons and screwbacks. Ironic that the "don't surfer for fashion" crowd was so eager to embrace screwing tiny vices onto your ears, but there we are. My own mother (born 1953) remembers her mother (born 1926) always taking off her screwback earrings immediately after getting home from a party, literally in the foyer of their house the second the door shut. There had been adaptations for unpierced ears before- Little Women, published in 1868, describes Meg March hanging earrings from a flesh-colored silk ribbon tied around the base of her ear -but they'd never caught on like this before.

However, the pendulum was soon to swing back. After just 40 years of Piercing Panic, in the 1960s, girls began piercing their ears again in droves. As piercing moved from the slumber party or summer camp back to the professional jewelers whose families had been early professional piercers in the 19th century- and to befuddled doctors who had no idea what they were doing yet still received piercing requests -cultural commentators had no idea what to make of it. Some decried the new trend while most took an air of bemused neutrality. My personal favorite article expressed surprise that "Space Age misses" were adopting these "Victorian traditions."

(In 1965, my grandmother took Mom to the anesthesiologist down the street who was offering to pierce his young daughter's friends gratis, and got it done. My grandfather had strongly disapproved of the idea, but in the end it took him a week to notice the new earrings.)

As to sources...honestly, I've just gone to Google Books, specified a time frame, and typed in "ear piercing," "pierced ears," "pierce ears," etc. Tons of primary sources at your fingertips, though I'm not always great about documenting or saving what I find. There's not much written about it formally, I've found- no books or scholarly studies. It may just be too close in history to attract much academic attention, though I find it fascinating.

This little blip where something that's been normal for most of western history suddenly became taboo for a hot second.

Also my ear piercings just turned 20 five days ago, commemorating the date that I was taken with much ceremony to Piercing Pagoda (and that horrible gun; it's a wonder I didn't get keloids) to get me out from underfoot while the Thanksgiving feast was being made. Grandma got hers pierced on the same day, at age 78. Happy Birthday, Marzi's ear piercings!

[mxtantrights]

Jason todd actually loves the holidays. But he has a hard time letting anyone know that. He's dealt with some tough shit. Death by joker, reincarnation by Ra's.

He didn't think that the holidays would be a thing for him. Why would it be? He has so much blood on his hands. Too much. He tries his best but sometimes it isn't good enough. He's no hero.

"Jay can you pass me the marshmallows?" you ask

He gets out of his thoughts. He reaches for the bag next to him and hands it to you. You thank him and continue on.

You're putting together your famous hot chocolate. He's never had it before. He met you in the early spring. Well he met you in late winter but you two weren't that close.

So as the seasons changed and you went from friends to something a bit more to a fully realized relationship, he found himself here. With you in the middle of winter.

About to try your version of hot chocolate.

It had all the works from what he can tell. He had the grocery list you sent him for the drink. Chocolate syrup, hot chocolate packets, big marshmallows, a bag of mini peppermints, and some of the sweet biscoff cookies.

He watches you work from near the oven, your back turned to him a bit. You pour the hot chocolate over the marshmallows in both cups. Then you swirl the syrup over that.

"Bub, can you break the peppermint for me?" you ask.

Jason, with a big smile on his face, grabs the bag of peppermints. He unravels about ten before you tell him it's more than enough. Then he places them in a ziplock bag. He reaches into the kitchen drawer to his side and pulls out the hammer.

Then he's carefully hacking at the candy. You watch him with a smile on your face. His tongue is peeking out of his mouth a bit from keeping concentration on the task at hand.

"Good?" he asks, then he lifts his head up.

You nod and he hands you the bag. You open it up and try to equally empty it over the two cups. Once the bag is empty you leave it on the counter.

Then you grab both mugs by the handles. You bring them over to Jason on the other side of the kitchen island. He takes the one in your left hand. But he waits for you to take your sip before he takes his.

His eyebrows go up. "Woah."

"Wait wait wait, hold on." you say.

You're quick to open the cookie bag. You hand him a biscoff. He watches as you take one of your own and dip it into the drink. He follows your move. Both of you take a bite of the cookie at the same time.

"Oh my god." he says with his mouth full.

You laugh, "I know. It's pretty great."

"How'd you figure out all of this tasted good together?" he asks.

You finish chewing and then take a sip. You put the mug down.

"My granny who isn't supposed to eat sweets, she told me this is the reason why. She had this every day when she was my age. Got lots of cavities and temporary allergic reaction to peppermint." you explain.

"Oh?"

You snicker, "She still drinks it every Christmas though. Whenever I come over and make it. You can have your second when she comes to visit."

"Introducing me to your granny, huh?" he teases.

You nod, "I plan on locking you down pretty quickly."

Jason smiles, and he doesn't know it but he also blushes. A red tint on his neck and his cheeks. You can't help to laugh at that. He takes another sip of his hot chocolate.

Yeah, he really loves the holidays. He loves you more.

[untilhiseyeheals]

Pretty Performer - Silco x fem!reader one shot

Warning: Smut. Shameless smut.

You opened the heavy wooden door to the bar and stepped cautiously into the warm, dimly lit room, already filled with people and bustling with laughter and the clinking of glasses. Taking in a deep breath you let it fall shut behind you, the sound of the heavy wood hitting the frame drowned out by the constant hum of voices and background music of the bar. You looked around, unsure if to just make yourself at home and prepare for your upcoming performance as this decision was justly taken from you by the grab of two nimble but strong hands that dragged you into the bar. “You came! I’m so excited! I had to beg beg beeeeeeg Silco to invite you to perform, you know, the bar doesn’t usually do live performances but I have been listening to your stuff alllll the time when I am tinkering and I just had to have you play here!”. Two long blue pigtails swung through the air as Jinx dragged you eagerly towards the little prepared stage in one corner of the room. A breath caught itself in your throat as you were well aware of what a dangerous environment you found yourself in, even with this situation being painted by a welcoming atmosphere, you couldn't help but feel a little on edge. “Thank you, Jinx. That really means a lot to me. I’m glad you like it. Hm… Is there any song in particular that you like? I can perform it for you, you know?” you managed a smile, thinking it's probably best to make as good an impression as possible with one of the most dangerous people around. She had already dragged you all the way over to the little makeshift stage as she whirled around to face you, eyes glowing with anticipation. “Animal Cannibal”, she exclaimed without a second thought and you smiled knowingly. Of course, one of the more, well, interesting songs. “Great choice. Will do!” you lifted your hand to your head and gave a joking salute as you turned to prepare the stage for your gig.

When the background music in the bar started to fade out and the lights dimmed, centring at the corner of the room you and Jinx found yourselves in, she jumped up onto the stage and grabbed the mic. “Hello and welcome everyone to The Last Drop’s first-ever live performance! No, we don’t care if you asked for this and we certainly won’t take any requests! Now lean back, lean forward, or to the side. Dance, stand, sit, drink, do whatever you want because you cannot stop what’s about to come! Give it up for (y/n)!” she shouted into the mic, twirling it around and pointing towards certain individuals that apparently had some sort of a reputation in the bar, as they gave a knowing smile and shrug before returning the attention to their glasses. She then jumped off the stage and joined the small crowd that assembled in front of the stage. Not much, by any means, but that only served to soothe your nerves that started to act up quite a bit. You couldn’t help but huff out a breath in disappointment as you let your eyes scan over the people in the crowd, not seeing him anywhere. Of course not! What were you thinking? It’s better he wasn’t here right now, the last thing you needed was the attention of arguably the most powerful and dangerous man of the Undercity on you. You took in a deep breath as the music started playing and decided to just go and get this over with.

So you started to sing. "I bite at the hand that feeds me. Slap at the face that eats me. Some kind of animal cannibal. Animal. Cannibal.” When the music started playing, the strain washed from your nerves and your muscles loosened from their tensed state. Your usual persona was swapped out to your on-stage persona, much more confident and slightly suggestive than your normal self. You can’t help it. You sang the song in a sultry voice, letting your hands roam your hips and down towards your legs as you scanned the room through half-lidded eyes. You didn’t catch him, too engulfed in your performance to notice the set of eyes that were glued to your form as you traced along the hem of your black dress. One eye blue and cold as the deep ocean, the other seemingly opposite a struggle of black and ember, like darkness fighting to engulf the flames of a smouldering fire. And he was watching you. Intently. Eyes never leaving you, he studied your movements, listening to your sultry song that you completely let yourself sink into. “How do I meet the strangest men? They always seem to find me.” How fitting. If only you knew that possibly the strangest man had become totally lost in your performance, in the way you seemed to ignore everything and everyone that existed in the world, becoming one with the song you performed and feeling the lyrics as if they were your own personal story.

That's what you were. A performer. So you opened your eyes, straightened up and let a dark, dangerous gaze skim through the first row of people looking back up at you as you sang the next words. “Who knows how some people turn to strange ones. Is it up to me to make them into dead ones?” a sickly grin spreading over your features as the last words left your tongue, hands raised to your neck, drawing a slow line once across as your tongue skims your teeth and licks over your sharp canines. You were looking dangerous, psychopathic, insane, for only as long as it fit the part of the song you were singing. A perfect performer. It was only between this verse and the upcoming last chorus you let your eyes wander further out, scanning the entirety of the room, eyes having become used to the glare of the lights that were turned onto you as your gaze fell on the man standing at the outer corner of the bar right next to the stairs up to the second story where the offices were located. You moved your head back from the microphone so as not to let the entire audience hear the sharp breath that you took in as you noticed his eyes locked attentively onto you, expression unreadable. He always had a certain look of anger, fury, and general disdain on him that made your skin tingle. As you studied his features a bit longer you noticed that this look was not the only thing you could see in his eyes. They were darker than usual, pupil dilated and fixed upon you, the grip on his glass unnecessarily strong as his knuckles turned white with the pressure he put on the poor object. He seemed like a predator stalking his prey and a set of strong goosebumps washed over your body as you realized with full force that in this scenario, you were the prey. It was a dangerous look that normally would have you avert your gaze and cower into the corner with the sheer force it seemed to emit. But not when you were on stage.

You drew in a final, long breath before it was time to finish the last chorus of the song, stepping closer to the microphone again, your eyes never leaving his. If anything, this drilling gaze of his only spurred you on in your performance. “I bite at the hand that feeds me.” you lift one of your hands from the microphone and bring it up to your mouth, slowly dragging it across your lower lip, opening your mouth and biting down hard as you show your teeth at the bite, letting your fingers slowly graze down your chin, dragging some saliva down your neck. “Slap at the face that eats me” Quickly you lift that hand and bring it swiftly down at your cheek, emitting a beautiful slap that reverberates through the room in the microphone. “Some kind of animal cannibal” Your hands continue their way around your neck and down to your collarbone, head leaned slightly to the side, eyes half-open again. “Animal? Cannibal.” You continue your sinful performance until the last note of the backing track has rung out through the room. Only then do you fully open your eyes and stand up straight again, looking over to the spot at the end of the bar. Empty. You huff in frustration and … disappointment? as you take a step back from the microphone and give the audience a dramatic bow.

Jinx was jumping up and down in excitement, dragging you off the stage the second you stopped your bowing and the light in the bar returned to its normal state, background music resuming more quietly. “That was AMAZING! It was EVEN BETTER than hearing it on my big boom boxes over and over again and that’s honestly saying something!”. You found it hard to keep up with her rambling, smiling courtly and nodding along so as not to infuriate the girl you just made so happy with your performance. Although you wished you had made someone else that happy. Your eyes scan through the bar, desperately looking for the enchanting set of eyes that so drilled through you just minutes ago. You couldn’t find him. Defeated you made your way over to the bar and plopped down on one of the barstools, gesturing to the bartender for a drink. Only it’s not a drink that hit the wood of the counter in front of you, but a similar little envelope to the one that fluttered into your room only days ago. You felt your heart stumble in your chest as your shaking hands picked up the paper, nails slicing through the envelope and trembling fingers unfolded the paper inside of it. You read faster than your eyes can manage, stumbling over the words on the page that turned out to be very few, and very direct. Upstairs. Second door to the right. Now. – S. In any other state, you would have chuckled over the way he signed the note as if it wasn’t painfully obvious who it was from. You knew better than to go into that office, what if was a trap? You dared to lay your eyes on him, lost in your performance, you were … lewd, desperate, horny. While your mind was still listing off the unholy effects his mere gaze had on your poor body, your legs already hit the ground and you made your way up the stairs before you could even realize what you had done, your hands knocked against the wood of the office door. “Come in”. A low, rumbling voice beckoned you inside. You took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping inside the office.

You weren’t prepared for what you would find inside. Your eyes instinctively went to his big desk that stood in front of a beautiful big stained glass window, letting in the faint glow of street lights from outside that tinted the room into a hazy shade of green. However, you were surprised to find the chair in front of the desk to be empty. Confused you furrowed your brows as that dangerous voice made itself heard again. “That was quite the performance you put on there. I can see why Jinx took a liking to your… music.” You traced the origin of the voice to the opposite side of the room and your breath hitched as your eyes fell upon the slim figure of Silco sitting on a low plush chaise lounge, legs spread, cigar in hand and those damned eyes locked straight onto you. You felt like you walked straight into the cave of a bear, deep into the mountains, stupid little bunny hopping straight forward into its demise. You couldn’t help the deep blush that spread across your features at the small compliment. If it was a compliment at all, with him anything sounded like a threat. Just as you opened your mouth to thank him, he cut you off with a simple demand. “Come here.”, his voice was low, eyes never leaving you as you made your way over to where he was sitting, unsure where to start or stop or what to do.

Your mind was hazy, his damn smug grin as you got closer and closer drowning out every strand of thought your brain tried to form. It was to no avail. As you came to a halt in front of the lounge, he sat up and leaned forward to a little couch table with an ashtray and two glasses of liquor, pressing the cigar into the tray and taking up one of the glasses, not bothering to offer you the other as he let himself fall back onto the backrest. His eyes studied you intently, you could feel his gaze wander up and down your form and how the little black dress accentuated each and every one of your curves before it ended, making way for equally black stockings, held up by garters in the shape of a heart. Like a perfect little black dress is supposed to, it showed almost a little too much cleavage to be comfortable, eyes drawn to the necklaces around your neck that almost beckoned the gaze towards your chest. You forced yourself to take deep, steady breaths but your body failed you as he took a swig of his drink and set it back onto the table, hinting with a jerk of his head to come sit next to him. You obliged wordlessly.

That’s when you realised you hadn’t even spoken a single word since you entered his office, the air thick with tension which you hoped was sexual nature and he wasn’t going to end your life right here. Hell, not before making it worth it. He seemed to have picked up on your dilemma, offering you a smug grin as he finally broke the agonising silence. “What happened? Swallowed your tongue?”, his eyes skimmed over your face, taking in the effect that his voice had on you, “Pity. Your performance almost made you seem interesting.” Bastard, you thought before you took up all the courage that was left in you, riding the high that was left from your performance and the reminder of how his eyes practically ate you up. In one quick, swift motion you turned towards him, throwing one leg over his and placing yourself over him, knees to the left and right of his, straddling his lap. That earned you a low, dangerous chuckle, as his eyes started at your necklaces dangling in front of him, skimmed over your chest, you swore they lingered there for a quick second, before coming to rest once again on your face. Heterochome eyes locked with yours, and there it was again, this undiscernible look that only hinted at the fire festering behind those eyes. He kept a cool and collected front, always, if he wasn’t seething in anger and exploding like a volcano he was just quiet and very laid back. That was a front. Dangerous one. You, however, were determined to weasel your way through the cracks that you saw forming in his foundation and he let you.

You carefully lifted your hands from your sides and skimmed the collar of his vest, toying with his tie and carefully loosening it a bit. A low rumble came from his chest as his arm was quick to catch yours and pin them down in your lap, holding your hands by their wrists with only one hand and a very, very strong grip. “Tsk tsk tsk…” he scolded as he used the leverage he had over you to push yourself off him to the side, never letting go of your wrists. “Seems like my eyes didn’t deceive me then. You’re a feisty one. I can appreciate that.” Well, it was fun while it lasted, you thought as he pushed you off him and took that as a sign that this night was not going to go your way. “What I cannot appreciate, however,” he continued, voice low and scolding as he used his second hand to fully undo the tie you so carelessly loosened before and bring it over to your wrists. “is someone acting so incredibly unduly in front of all of Zaun.” With that, he quickly wrapped the string of the undone tie around your wrists and tied them together in a strong knot, not being gentle and making sure it was tight. “Looks like someone needs to be taught a lesson on how to behave.” he finished, letting go of your tied arms and letting them drop into your lap again.

“Lean back.”, he ordered and you were in no position to disobey, leaning back on the plush velvet of the lounge, resting your back against the backrest. With a small, approving nod he slid off the lounge from beside you and stood up, bending down towards you. He seemed to be taking in the sight of you, breathing already shallow and ragged from anticipation, anxiously biting your lip, hands tied together by his tie, looking up at him with big eyes that gave no hint of opposition. Just how he liked it. “There. I had a feeling you’d be a quick learner.” he cooed as his bent-down form started to come closer to you until his head was right next to yours, breath warm and tickling your ear. “So pretty and willing, all tied up and submissive it’s almost a shame having to ruin you.” he whispered in your ear, voice low and gravelly, lips just barely grazing your ear. You couldn’t stop the desperate whine that left your mouth, which made his eyes flick towards yours as he slowly leaned back away from you. “Patience.” was all he said, as his long fingers found the soft flesh of your thighs, tracing a line up and down and along the heart-shaped garters. You sucked in a breath, skin tingling at the touch you waited so long for. His hands made their way, slow, oh so painfully slow, up your thighs under your dress, skimming the band of your cotton panties that had a little lace rim on top which his fingers quickly found. You could tell he thoroughly enjoyed feeling up every inch of you, making you wait forever and ever, each touch feeling so painfully slow that you wished you could just grab his hand and drag it directly to your aching clit. He was revelling in your desperation, eyes closely on yours as he observed each subtle change of your facial features as his hands roamed your body. Then he pulled back his hand from under your dress, making you wince at the sudden loss of contact. He smirked a devilish little smirk as he straightened up and sat back down next to you, picking up the glass with liquor as he watched your slumped-down form, already so messy and dishevelled from this little touch. “Stand up.” he ordered, placing the glass at his lips and taking a swig. You rolled your eyes. What was this supposed to be? Did he order you up here only to make you stand up and sit down and turn around like a little puppy? You weren’t having it. With one swift motion, you stood back up on your feet and made a step towards the door of the office.

Suddenly you could feel yourself getting yanked back hard and crashing into his tall frame. He was just sitting there with a glass in his goddamn hand, how did he manage to pull you back so fast? You could only hear a dangerous, low chuckle as you turned your head to look directly into his eyes. Now they really seemed like they were set ablaze. “Thank you, pet. I thought you weren’t gonna put up a fight at all.” his voice was barely a snarl, a sickly grin spreading over his face. Sick bastard. He didn’t want you to silently obey him, he picked you out because you seemed like you had a fire within you, so different from all the mindless idiots he was left to deal with every day. And finally, he got a glimpse of it. Before you knew it, he had lifted your tied hands above his head so that they came back down around his neck, which left you straining with no way to move, your bodies almost pinned together. That’s when his smug grin was instantly washed from his face as you closed the difference and started planting sinful kisses along his jawline, trailing them up towards his ear and down his neck. Your tongue slipped through, you licked your way along his neck, kissing, sucking, tired of this game he wanted to play. You could feel his head snap back as his own arms snaked around your waist and found your ass, cupping your cheeks with his hands and giving them a squeeze. That elicited a husky moan from you, spilling from your lips between the sounds of sucking and kissing the skin of his neck. He maneuvered you back towards the lounge and when you could feel it against the back of your shins he stopped, releasing your ass from his grasp to free your tied hands from behind his neck. Taking a step back which meant you had to stop your assault on his neck, he smirked as he undid the knot around your wrists, tie discarded to the floor in one swift motion. That, however, didn’t mean he allowed you any more control than he wanted to. “Strip.” he ordered, and you were only too happy to oblige.

Your hands found the straps of your dress and slid them down your shoulders, leaving it to pool on the floor. He once again started looking you up and down, although your undergarments were nothing too special since you favoured comfort over looks and, well, you didn’t count on anyone seeing those today. He took a step towards you, piercing gaze never leaving you, as his arms came around your back to unclasp your bra, fingers pushing it off your shoulders to join your dress on the floor. “Magnificent,” he murmured, as he took another step to close the distance between your bodies and started returning the favour of kissing your neck, hands finding your breasts and cupping them. You let out a soft moan, to which he responded with his fingers finding your hardened nipples, flicking and toying with them as his mouth slowly made its way down your neck to your collarbone. Again, he seemed to find special pleasure in making the process painfully slow, dragging out the moment as long as he possibly could, before the warmth of his mouth finally found one of your nipples. His tongue swirled in circles around the hardened bud of your nipple, teeth grazing it ever so gently before he decided he was gentle enough and took it between his teeth. “F-Fuck…” you moaned, hands darting forward to find his perfectly slicked back hair, burying your fingers between its strands, dragging your nails over his scalp. This led to him letting out a grunt against your nipple, sending a jolt through your body that settled right in that ever-tightening coil in your core.

Seemingly feeling this jolt, he let go of your nipple, guiding you to lay down on the lounge, joining you by crawling his way up, pushing your legs apart. You sucked in a breath in anticipation, as his hands found the waistband of your panties, dragging them painfully slowly down your legs and discarding them on the floor next to the lounge. He began kissing his way up the inside of your thighs, getting dangerously close to the wet mess he made of your cunt. Enjoying every second of this juicy anticipation, his mouth made its way all the way up to your upper thigh, directly next to your dripping cunt, nose skimming your folds for just a second, already enough to make you buck your hips involuntarily. He chuckled lowly against the soft flesh of your thigh. “My, my…” he trailed off and suddenly his head turned from the side of your inner thigh and the next thing you felt was his tongue licking slowly up your folds. You bucked your hips again, arms darting back to find his head again, getting a handful of his hair, destroying what was left of its slicked-back state. He ate you out like it was what he was destined to do, tongue swirling in circles around your clit, toying with the willing hole and slurping up all the delicious juices that you had for him. That’s when he felt like that wasn’t enough, and while his eyes flicked up to catch your reaction, two of his fingers joined his tongue. You threw your head back, muttering and moaning a string of words that loosely resembled his name as he slid his fingers into you. They met with no resistance as he pushed them in all the way, curling them up to hit that sweet, sweet spot that almost made you scream his name had you not turned your head and bit your lip. His mouth left your aching clit while his fingers kept relentlessly pumping into you, lifting his head to watch you squirm and hold back noises. “Come on, let me hear you.” he growled, as he once again curled his fingers right where you needed them and thrust them into you. “F-Fuck. Silco. Your fingers feel so good. I’m… I-... S… So close” you muttered against the side of the lounge, breath ragged and speaking made hard by the continuous assault of his fingers that felt like knocking all the air out of your lungs. That only seemed to spur him on more. “Good. Come on my hand for me.”, he ordered and slipped in a third finger, curling them once again, one last thrust sending you over the edge and bringing the knot in your stomach to explode. “Yes… S-Silco!”, you almost chanted his name like a prayer as the feeling of sweet release washed over you, making your vision blurry and your head fuzzy. His hands slowed down their movements, letting you ride it out as you bucked your hips lazily against his hand until he withdrew it.

You carefully opened your eyes and the knot in your stomach began to churn anew as you took in the sight before you. Silco had straightened up on the lounge, still between your thighs, vest slightly agape for a lack of tie, hair dishevelled with strands falling into his face. His face, gods, his face. It was flushed from the heat, his sweat mixing with your juices that coated his nose and mouth and that bastard was grinning as he took the fingers that were just inside you to his mouth, licking them clean of your remnants. You were determined to wipe the grin from his face once again as you tried to use your elbows to prop yourself up and get yourself into a halfway seated position resting on your palms. Well, you made it halfway from the elbow stance to the palms as your arms remembered they felt like jelly and gave up on you, leaving you plopping back onto the velvet cushions of the lounge with the back of your head. Silco watched this and chuckled. “Dear, don’t overestimate your strength. Give yourself a moment.” You didn’t want a moment. As you set to try your endeavours a second time, he suddenly bent back down over you, his arms resting on either side of your chest, face flush to yours. “I said, give it a moment,” he warned, voice low and dangerous again, a glint shimmering through his eyes. You shook your head and decided that if your arms could not support you to steady yourself, you might as well use them to pull him in.

Easier said than done, you lifted your arms and dropped them behind his neck, hands gripping the fabric of his vest on the shoulders. He let out another chuckle and shakes his head. “You won’t let go, hm?”, he cooed as he brought his face closer to yours. He hasn’t kissed you yet. You hadn’t dared to- this didn’t seem like a situation… You couldn’t finish your thought before his lips found yours, hungry, devouring you, tongue pushing its way into your mouth. He didn’t need to ask permission or wait, be gentle, or anything. And he knew. You moaned into the kiss as you felt his tongue twirling with yours, pushing hungrily into your mouth, determined to explore it in its entirety. Even though the kiss was drenched in desire and want, it almost felt a tinge gentle. You were sure you imagined that part. The knot in your stomach tightened at the feeling, itching to be released anew. “S-Silco… Please….”, was all you managed to pathetically wince out between kisses. He broke the kiss and leaned back a bit. There it was again, this grin. “What is it? Use your words, dear.” he spoke, voice dripping with sarcasm. You looked back up at him with the most longing and pathetic look you had in you and said “Please… Fuck me.”

That was all he needed, hands quick to unbutton his pants and sliding them down just enough to free the length of his hard cock that surely was similarly aching to be freed like the knot in your stomach. He was already dripping precum which made you a little proud of yourself, seeing that all this mess hadn’t just affected you. He was human after all. You didn't have a lot of time to revel in that thought though, as he quickly came back down towards you, tip of his cock hitting your aching clit. You winced and at this point, you didn’t care how you sounded anymore. “Please, please Silco”, all you could do was whimper his name in pleas to end your suffering and finally fuck you. He seemed to enjoy that most as he took his sweet time, dragging his tip through your folds, playing with your clit, lining himself up only to let it glide upwards between you again. You had enough. Determined you bucked your hips against him as he toyed with you once again, pulling him in just enough so his head was entering you.

He hissed, seemingly pissed off for just a second before the feeling of your cunt around him soothed all his anger and he couldn’t help but fully push himself inside you. You gasped, and let out an unholy animalistic noise as your hands tried to grasp onto the velvet of the lounge in support. That did it, the last part of resolve he had in him was crumbling at that unruly noise you just let out. He was relentless, quick-paced thrusts deep into you, losing himself in the way your walls clenched around him. Your hands, not finding any support with the lounge, latched onto his shoulders and dragged down his back, nails leaving marks in their wake. The noises he made were impossible to describe and even more impossible to endure. Your own were similarly unruly, you simply didn’t care anymore. There was no way you were withstanding this long, as you could feel your release inching closer and closer. He could feel it too, your walls clenching around him as he bottomed out into you, thrust after thrust, again and again. “S..Silco.. I’m.. I’m gonna..”, you tried your best to form any semblance of words as you felt yourself approaching the edge. One of his hands found your clit, fingers circling over it as he kept fucking you at a relentless pace. That did it and you felt yourself being thrown over the edge as the knot in your stomach exploded again making you clench uncontrollably around his cock. His breathing grew more ragged, thrusts sloppy and losing their rhythm as he fucked you through your high and chased his own. Just as he started to twitch he pulled out and spilt himself all over your stomach, panting heavily, letting out more of these groans and sounds that you would for sure hear in your head for days to come.

He remained hovering over you for a second, lazily stroking himself before getting up and grabbing a box of tissues off the nearby table. You thought he would take a few and toss you the box or something, but he cleaned himself up at the table, discarding the used tissues and heading back over to you with the rest. He sat down on the lounge in front of you, taking one tissue after the other, gently wiping his cum from your stomach and discarding the used tissues… well, into the general direction of the waste bin. You studied his face as he did so, usually furrowed brows relaxed and eyes steadily fixed on his task at hand. For how relentlessly he fucks, kills and acts otherwise he was being… gentle?

[ladykailitha]

Spellbound Part 1

Normally I would post Caged Bird today, but this has a much larger backlog, sooo! Happy himbo witch time!

Summary: It's a quiet, idyllic life in the town of Hawkins. For everyone but Eddie Munson. You see, his look and cottage scream witch. The long, curly, dark curls, the black clothes, and dark and broody cottage all point to Eddie as a witch. But no. That title belongs to Steve Harrington down the way. In bright and cheery house, dressed in green and a sunny disposition. Things start turn in the town when Chrissy shows up on Eddie's doorstep thinking he's the witch.

~

Eddie Munson was everything one expected a witch to look like. He had long, curly, dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. He wore dark makeup and painted his nails black. In addition to the only color palette liked was reds and blacks, he wore lots of jewelry, including many things that people associated with witches like pentagrams, animal teeth, and beads.

The house he shared with his Uncle Wayne was light grey, ramshackle, little cottage with black roof, door, and trim. The front of the house was overgrown with vines and wild flowers.

So he really shouldn’t be surprised when people would knock on the door looking for a witch.

He opened the door with a sigh. “Can I help you?” he asked the stranger.

She was pretty thing, a little younger than him. She had bright green eyes and her strawberry blonde hair was neatly arranged on the top of her head. She wasn’t very tall, but her green dress gave her long lines.

“I need a love charm?” she asked with a blush. “I just want to know if the man my father wants me to marry is the right one, you know?” She twisted her handkerchief nervously in her hands.

Eddie sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “The witch lives two houses down and across the street. Great big sign that reads: ‘Harrington Witchery, charms, curses, and wishes performed here’.”

She looked down the way at the bright yellow house surrounded by neat plants and the perfect ray of sunlight on the door and then back at him in confusion. The door opened and the witch stepped out. He had honey colored hair and hazel eyes. He wore bright blue robes today and had the sunniest smile.

Eddie could feel his face flush as the witch waved over at both of them.

“Here he comes,” he said with a pinch of dismay.

“Hi,” the witch said brightly. “Are you looking for the witch?”

The young woman looked back at Eddie and then at the witch. “Yes?”

“Fantastic!” he said beaming at her. “I’m Steve Harrington, witch extraordinaire. Please to meet you!”

“Chrissy Cunningham,” she said shyly. “I was wanting a love charm?”

“I’d be happy to help you with that,” he said putting his arm over her shoulder, “let’s leave the grumpy Gus to his music playing, shall we?”

Eddie huffed. “That’s Mr. Grumpy Gus to you!”

Someone smacked him on the back of the head. “Don’t you go antagonizing the man who makes my arthritis medicine, boy.”

Steve stopped and turned around. “When do you need a top off on that, by the way?”

“I’m running a bit low,” Wayne admitted. “It was bit rougher this week with that huge storm we had.”

Steve nodded. “I’ll be over with the packet after I’m done with Chrissy.”

“I’ll have the tea ready for you,” Wayne said with a fond smile.

~

Chrissy looked around the house as he led her through to the back of the house. It was neat and tidy with every clearly labeled in a neat cursive hand. There was something bubbling on the fire, but from the smell it was probably dinner and not a potion. She could smell the beef and vegetables.

There were two rooms off the one side and the privy to the other. It was everything the opposite you would expect of a witch’s house. The animals on the other hand fit. One was a raven sitting in the windowsill being fed by a beautiful woman dressed in a dark blue gown. The other was a Tortoiseshell cat with bright green eyes, who meowed at her and jumped away.

“Merlin!” Steve admonished. “Be nice.”

The cat stopped in its hasty retreat and meowed back at him.

“Well she can’t help that,” he answered as if he understood what the cat was saying. “Now, run along and actually catch the mouse that has been stealing your food.”

Merlin meowed again and was off.

“He’ll never catch that mouse,” the woman said.

The raven crowed, seemingly in agreement.

“Then you catch it, Circe,” Steve huffed, hands on hips. “I know you can and you complaining about Merlin’s abilities doesn’t catch the mouse any faster.”

The raven crowed and flew off, causing the woman to laugh. “She won’t catch it either.”

“Yes,” Steve agreed, “but with her it’ll be because she doesn’t like being told what to do and not because she can’t.”

Chrissy shifted nervously from one foot to the other. “So about that love charm?” she asked tentatively.

Steve jumped. “Oh! Oh my god! I got so wrapped up in familiar politics I nearly forgot you were there. Here, just let me...” he began gathering supplies.

Some twine, a bit of silk, some herbs and oddly a couple of flowers too. Ivy, lilac and pansy. He swiftly made them into a doll and handed it to her. “A lock of your hair, and snip of your petticoat will finish the job. Then whisper into its ear all the things you want in your true love. Then the next time you touch your betrothed, you will know if he is your true love.”

“That’s all?” Chrissy asked, staring down at the doll, no bigger than her palm.

“Yep!” he said brightly. “Robin will help you with the hair and petticoat. I’ll be in the front room preparing Wayne’s medicine.”

Chrissy blushed and nodded. Robin stood up and wandered over to the desk to grab the scissors.

“Are you a witch, too?” Chrissy asked as she held still for Robin to clip a bit of her petticoat.

Robin stood up with a smile. “Not yet, but I hope to be. Steve is teaching me. I’m still a little clumsy with the potions but I’m good with the herbs. Steve says that I could be a hedge witch!”

“Oh!” Chrissy cried. “I didn’t know there were different kinds of witch. What kind is Steve?”

“The tired kind!” Steve huffed from the front room.

Robin giggled. “Don’t make me laugh when I’m about to cut her hair!” she admonished.

Steve looked over his shoulder and gave her a completely unrepentant grin. Robin huffed and gently took a bit of curl from the base of her head near the neck. She took the doll back from Chrissy and tied both pieces to the doll.

“Now,” she said brightly, “just whisper all your wants and desires for a future soulmate. It’s actually good you’re doing it now. A lot of people do it as kids with childish hopes and dreams which isn’t great for adult relationships.”

Steve came into the room dusting his hands off on a towel. “That’s unfair,” he huffed. “It’s not childish, it’s childlike. And who knows love better than someone who hasn’t been taught to hate yet.”

Chrissy tilted her head to the side. “I think I’m with Steve on that one, Robin.”

“Yeah, well,” Robin said rolling her eyes and stepping back. “Doing it as a child hasn’t done Mr. Witch over here any good. He had his made by his mom when he was seven and fifteen years later, he still hasn’t found his true love.”

Steve threw the towel over one shoulder and put both hands on his hips. “I still maintain that it’s because I’m witch and can’t get out much that’s why I haven’t found them yet.”

“I still thi–” Robin began and then was cut off with a wave Steve hand. She glared at him.

“It won’t last very long,” Steve growled, “but long enough that Miss Cunningham won’t be here for that particular argument.”

“She thinks you’ve already met your true love?” Chrissy surmised.

Robin jumped up and down and nodded with a huge grin.

“Robin is operating under the delusion that the goth down the road is my soulmate,” Steve huffed putting his hands back on his hips. “Never mind, it’s a guy, he absolutely hates me because people keep mistaking my house for his.”

Chrissy blushed a deep red. “Yeah, sorry about that. But it’s the commonly held belief that witches are–”

Steve held up his hand. “I’m going to stop you there. I won’t gag you like I did Robin. But I don’t know where those ‘commonly held beliefs’ come from, but witches have never worn black or had black cats or flew on brooms. Hedge witches in particular favor nature’s colors of blues and greens and browns. But you’re all set to go.”

Chrissy recognized the dismissal that it was and turned to leave. She barely got a single step when she turned around.

“What about payment?” she asked, uncertain. “Surely you need something in payment.”

Steve’s eyes seemed to glow gold for a moment as he spoke. “There is no need to pay for a love charm, there being more love in the world is enough for the spell. And it is only spell that does so.”

“Your other charms and spells have payments?” she asked, now a little nervous.

“Most of them require a trade or a simple favor,” Steve said, seriously, “like running an errand for me. But if you ask for a potent charm, one would almost call a wish, that is all you will get from me. You’ll never be able to find my house ever again. You’ll see me around town and I can visit you. But you require some powerful magic, then that’s it. I will not be used to fix every problem you see fit.”

Chrissy gulped and nodded. She clutched the doll to her chest and ran off.

“Steve...” Robin said, darkly. “There was no need to frighten her.”

Steve leveled her with a glare. She backed off, hands in the air in surrender. He stomped back to his potion, the small cottage darkening with his foul mood. The raven flew into through the window and landed on his shoulder, rubbing her beak on his temple.

“I’m fine, Circe,” Steve mumbled, scratching the raven’s neck. “I think Merlin was right about her. She wasn’t here for a good reason. I think she just wanted to prove to everyone that Master Carver’s son isn’t her soulmate. I don’t think she’s actually interested in finding true love.”

The raven crowed and cawed.

“Of course you caught the mouse,” he huffed, gently shaking his head not to dislodge her from his shoulder. “What did you do with it?”

Circe cawed again and Steve laughed. “Of course you did. Merlin is probably pouting. He’ll play with its corpse once he’s done.”

The raven made a sound suspiciously like laughter and then flew away. Robin came up and put her hand on his shoulder and then pulled him into a hug.

“I heard what you told Circe,” she mumbled into his shoulder. “You’re right of course. Merlin, too. She was trying to hard to believe in your magic. She was just looking for an excuse not to marry dickface.”

“That’s Master Dickface to you,” Steve teased halfheartedly.

Robin snorted. “Yeah well. That’s probably the last we see of her. He’ll turn out to be her soulmate, she’ll be forced to marry him and she’ll live in the ivory tower the rest of her days.”

He let out a shuddering breath. “I’m heading over to visit Wayne to deliver his medicine. I’ll be back later.”

She grinned and jumped up and down. “Maybe the hottie gothy will be there and you’ll finally touch and it’ll be...” she clutched her hands together and batted her eyelashes, “true love!”

He pushed her off of him and wrapped up the blue packets of medicine. He paused for a moment and then took a jar of Mrs. Henderson’s homemade raspberry jam and added it to the basket.

Robin took a loaf of bread from the cooling rack and wrapped it up. “There you go, little yellow riding hood! Of to Wayne’s you go! Don’t let the big bad goth eat you!”

~

Tag List: TEN OPEN SLOT REMAINING

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[myalgicpierrot]

[ID 1: A post on the Elder Emos Facebook group by Skye Suite that says, "Hey family, the nostalgia is real, and I started going through my shit.

Back in the day, I made a tiny music rag and interviewed most of the big timers when it was tiny clubs, not stadiums and fests. I used to give all members of bands this nerdy questionnaire to fill out and it’s actually pretty golden. I was 19 and it was like 02’ so its rough 😂🫣 Would anyone be interested in seeing them? 🤷🏻‍♀️ I’m talking pen and paper, their handwriting here. Like a fucking rotary phone 😂. So far I’ve found, MCR, AAR, Glassjaw, Matchbook Romance, Motion City Soundtrack, Brand New, NFG, ADTR, The Used ( which actually lead to me working with them for years 😂) Bayside, Thursday, LTJ, Blink 182 (that one got out of hand considering, that I’d already worked with them quite a bit by this point) I think I have Saosin with Anthony Green and I know I have Circa Survive and Panic and TGUK somewhere. Who knows what else I have.

If anyone would enjoy them, I’d love to give you the nostalgia smile it’s given me. 😂 Below is Mikey Ways, he tore off the bottom because he spoke about the girl that broke his heart and classy even then, didn’t want to speak on it publicly."

ID 2: The picture of Mikey's questionnaire. It has been typed up in comic sans and filled out in pen. It says Underdog's 15 questions with My Chemical Romance:

Name, age and what you do in the band: Mikey, 22, Moral support.

What's your favorite cereal? Fruity pebbles.

What was the last great show you saw? ZWAN in NYC

Make cookies or eat the dough? eat the dough dood

Favorite movie: Dawn of the Dead

Would you rather: Drink a cup of live ants or eat a wad of dirty toilet paper? the ants

If you could have a one night stand with any celebrity who would it be? Britney Spears

Favorite fast food: pizza

Least favorite band: Blind Melon

When you do have spare time, how do you use it? Drinking vodka

What would you be doing if not in My Chemical Romance? travelling vaccum sales

When you do have spare time, how do you use it? (blank)

Biggest turn on: sick ink

Pet peeve: (answer scribbled out with an arrow pointing to the bottom of the page) girlfriends who cheat on their boyfriends while there on tour. (the rest of the answer has been torn away.)

On a scale of 1-10 how annoying is this survey? 4

/End IDs.]

a fan had multiple bands fill out these surveys around 2002 and this was Mikeys!!

[venomwrites]

Caitvi having a double date with Timebomb

“The fuck, Ekko?! You painted each other?!”

It’s a surprise when Vi finally staggers back from Piltover’s polished halls. She sure as fuck isn’t supposed to. It’s not part of the plan. Of course Vi doesn’t know there’s a plan. She staggers down all the same. Instead of the broken, screaming woman sliding off the ledge she is the Vi that has appeared throughout Ekko’s life. Brash and loud and a pain in the ass. But she’s alive in this world and that fucking means something. He’s not sure what in the cosmic sense. But when she kicks open the door, he’s pretty sure right now it means she’s about to kick his ass. 

“That’s a weird way to say hello,” he spits back. 

“You painted my sister!” She accuses. 

He’s fucking tired. Sleep is never enough, everything feels sluggish. He doesn’t know if it’s grief or if he managed to fix time and break himself in the process. Ekko’s used to building things from ruins. But it takes time. Right now it’s just frustrating as hell. He’s seen what the world can be, he’s got something to strive for. But that goal feels like when he was a kid and he’d look up at the tall buildings. He can strive for it all he fucking wants. There’s a good chance he’s never going to get it. He’s always cared about possibilities. Even if the odds are against him, there’s still a chance. Now though he knows what is out there. What’s out there and what’s missing here. That is the bitterest pill to swallow for some fucked up reason. 

Also his earlobes hurt. 

“You’re not here about the paint,” he says. 

“Yeah I am,” Vi snaps, “what the fuck? She’s a kid!”

Ekko grinds his teeth. He does not want to talk about this. He doesn’t want to deal with Vi’s protective bullshit. Not when he’s spent all this time listening to Jinx talk about how Vi needs to be up there. Ekko half wanted a sibling most of his life, but the way the pair of them are with each other makes him glad he never had one. 

“No, Vi, she’s not!” He erupts finally, “none of us are! When are you gonna see that?!”

Vi stands still. She’s pissed but Ekko knows she needs to hear it. Someone has to tell her. Tell her in a way that gets through her thick skull so they can all start to heal. He’s not an idiot, he knows how Jinx is without her sister. Both of their plans are stupid. They always have been. That’s why one winds up in jail and one winds up in hell. And then they just fucking switch places, cry about it and switch again. Ekko is tired of listening to stupid ideas. 

Vi is suddenly in his face. Still with that miserable look on her eyes. She reaches out slowly and bats away his hand when he tries to stop her. She pinches the corner of his ear between her thumb and her forefinger. Gently but it’s enough to make him hiss. 

“Geez Ekko, this is infected,” she says. Ekko wants to yell at her, “you do this yourself?”

“No.”

“Seriously? Your ear?” She peers around his head, “both of them? When did you two have the time?”

“I don’t know, how long does it take you to fuck your girlfriend?” He questions. 

Vi glares but doesn’t drop his ear. She shoves her hands into her pockets and pulls out a little bottle. The clear gel she swipes around the fresh earrings make his ears sting but it’s also nice and cool. She huffs again and turns to do the other one. 

“I was in prison and managed to keep mine not infected,” she mutters. 

“Yeah? How’d you manage that?”

“Salt packs,” she says. 

She hands him the bottle. Some nice Piltie thing filled with the clear gel. Ekko wants to smack her hand away but he recognizes the peace offering for what it is. It feels like he’s back in the peaceful version of the world for a moment. Where the divides between the cities aren’t that great. He realizes abruptly that in this world Vi has actually managed to bring some of that here. She crossed that divide without even thinking. Right out of prison, back when they were all too stupid to see what was going on. 

Ekko knows it’s because she didn’t do it alone. 

“How’s the Piltie?” He asks.

“Better,” Vi says evasively. Ekko rolls his eyes, “I didn’t come here to talk abut her!” He just keeps staring at Vi, “I don’t know!” Vi says throwing up her hands. She drags her hand through her hair. Her bad arm moves seamlessly. Another Piltover souvenir, “she’s talking about giving up her council seat. She’s barely eating. All those fucking fancy Piltie doctors do is try to get her to talk. She doesn’t like talking about her feelings.”

Ekko sighs.

This is part of being a leader. 

“Sounds like she needs you,” he says cutting through Vi’s bullshit, “up there.”

“She doesn’t want to talk to me,” Vi says.

“So don’t talk,” Ekko suggests, “seriously she kicked you out and your solution was to come all the way down here? Go back there and—“ he hesitates a moment, “just sit with her until she does.”

Vi sighs, shoves her hands into her pockets and rocks back on her heels. For a moment Ekko feels like a kid caught doing something wrong. Even though he hasn’t and Vi’s already yelled at him for what she suspects. It’s not about the paint or the earrings. It’s about Jinx. Jinx let him touch her when she wouldn’t let Vi touch her. Ekko knows Vi hates that. He feels weird about it when he thinks on it too long. Not because of Vi—or not only because of Vi. It’s all their history together. But he said what happened, what he saw. And Jinx believed him way more readily than he would have believed her. It’s weird and knotted and not something he wants to think about too hard. 

“Sit with her until she does,” Vi repeats. 

“Yeah,” he says, “it’s fair—“

There’s a snap around his wrist. 

Piltie cuffs. 

The other locks around Vi’s own wrist.

“The fuck?”

“Sorry, little man,” Vi says, the nickname slipping out, “I’m not going back alone.”

“So you handcuff me?!”

“Handcuff us,” she says, dangling her wrist up, “maybe one day we can walk together normally,” Ekko reaches for his key but only hits the skin that shows above his pants, “next time maybe get a full shirt.”

“Shut up!”

Vi drags him up and away. Ekko plans his escape. He hates walking. Hates walking the Lanes most of all. It reminds him of his failures and the past. When he flies he can leave it all down here. Up there none of it can catch him. Now he drags through the muck. What catches him off guard is the newness he sees popping up. New cans of paint, fresh tarps, resources. Vi catches his stunned gaze and offers a grin as they make their way past. Ekko nearly falls flat on his face trying to get a good look. He wants to drink it all in. But Vi is determined. She drags him up past where the buildings nicer and into a private box. 

“We should have taken my board,” he grumbles as it pulls them higher. 

“I wasn’t letting you anywhere near that thing.” 

He scoffs. 

Hesitates. 

He doesn’t know if he wants to know. Maybe that makes him weak. But what’s the right way to ask what version of someone is awake? It doesn’t really matter. After what he did Jinx and Powder both probably want him dead. He messed up the plan. Instead of flying her out of here like he was supposed to he was unconscious. She sailed out of that air duct with no-one to catch her. He let her down again. He could have gone with her, maybe he should have. But all he could think when he saw her being carted off by fancy doctors with Vi’s hand tight in hers was that maybe she too had a chance at getting away. He’d messed up her trust enough. Something must show in his face. 

“She started talking to Isha two nights ago,” Vi says. 

“Two nights?!” He demands. 

“I’ve been trying to find you!” Vi snaps, holding up her wrist again.

“Why didn’t you start with that?!” He demands. She shrugs and rubs the back of her neck, “what’s she saying?” 

“She’s telling her about you,” Vi says. 

She drags him through the shiny halls of a building flooded with sunlight. He knew Vi wouldn’t let her be thrown into a cell. There are guards everywhere though. But they are guards who nod at Vi even through the disgust on their face. She brings him to a door and undoes the cuff. She hesitates a moment before knocking and opening it up. Ekko hesitates at the sound of whispering. What if he makes this worse again?

“Jinx? It’s Vi. I brought someone to see you,” the whispering stops. 

Vi reaches for him but he bats her hand away and forces himself forward. 

Jinx is crouched in the far corner. Her entire head is cased in white bandages. They match her pale skin and the white garment they’ve put her in. The room is completely devoid of color. The only color is her purple eyes. They regard him from underneath the bandages, surrounded by bruises. She blinks twice and looks to her side like she’s looking for someone. But then like she always does, her eyes flick over and focus on him. Vi inhales sharply when she gets to her feet and makes her way over. 

“I thought you died,” she says simply. It’s hard to swallow, “you were supposed to be there.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he says. Her fingers tap his hand and then snatch back. Unsure. He now knows more about the war in her head, but that doesn’t make it any easier, “I broke time.”

“How?”

“Turned it back longer than four seconds,” he says. Her lip curls, “A lot longer.”

“So you made it a bomb,” she says, “did it work?”

“We’re here aren’t we?” 

She freezes and looks around. He feels behind him in Vi’s general directly and pushes. His hand hits some part of her that stands hard and unyielding and needs to get the fuck out. Before Ekko can look he feels her withdraw. Then it’s just him and Jinx in the white room. Her hand goes out and back and out in something that almost looks like she’s swinging her arm. Then it streaks out and latches onto his wrist. He turns his hand as she walks her fingers to his palm and clenches theirs together. Her lips tremble and she looks up at him. 

“It fell apart again,” she says, her voice steadier even as her lips tremble, “I fucked it up.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, gripping her shoulder. She tenses at the contact and but her eyes remain stubbornly focused on him, “I fucked it up too. I broke time.”

“It’s not a competition,” she huffs. 

“Good, because I’d win,” he says. Her eyes narrow, “I broke time,” he reminds her. 

“Seems fixed now,” she shoots back, “seems—slow,” she glances around the room, something annoyed flickering in her eyes, “I don’t like it in here.”

“Okay,” he says, “let’s get out of here.”

She shivers at the thought. Ekko hates that she’s been trapped in this room for even a moment. Though he recognizes this was the safest place for her, it feels wrong. He doesn’t know what the line is though. Safe and tolerable seem to be on opposite sides of the spectrum for her. He doesn’t even know if he can take her out of here. Maybe they’ve both been locked in the room. Still, he resolves to try. He reaches for the door and tugs. Thankfully it opens. Sunlight spills forward from the massive windows. Jinx hesitates next to him. 

“I know it’s a lot,” he says, “lean on me.” 

She puts more of her weight on him and something further eases in his chest. They take the few steps out of the room together. Her other hand comes up and covers her forehead as she looks at the bright blue sky. He knows she wants to fly away but for now she just leans on him. Somehow that feels like enough. He sees a seam in the window and shoves it up with one hand. Only a trickle of a breeze comes through but she closes her eyes. The peace on her face doesn’t make him think of the other Powder for once. It makes him think of the cans of fresh paint in the Lanes. The spark of life surrounded by all the darkness. It’s just a spark, just a pair of tearful eyes on a bridge, but it is there. It’s all that matters. 

“Can we fly?” she asks. 

“We will,” he promises, “but not on an empty stomach.”

Her eyes shoot open and look hopefully at him. He has a feeling even with all the wealth she’s been refusing to eat. Now she looks hungry. It’s something. He looks around for anyone who could bring them food. Maybe he can hid her from Vi long enough to ask. He sees the half cracked door down the hall. Jinx tightens her fingers on him and leans more heavily. 

“Can you trust me this time?” He asks. 

She hesitates and then nods. He reaches up and eases some of the bandage down to cover her eyes. She leans fully on him but matches his steps as they hobble over to the room. Vi is sitting there with Caitlyn. Who also has bandages over her eyes. She’s sitting perfectly straight, her visible eye staring at her hands. Vi looks anguished next to her, but she is sitting there. Waiting. Ekko keeps Jinx on the other side of the door as he cracks it. Vi’s eyes take in the fingers clenched around his and she pushes herself up. 

“I need food,” he hisses. 

Vi looks at Caitlyn like she doesn’t know what to do. Ekko gets the distinct impression all three of them are in their own cells. She and Caitlyn seem to be waiting for someone to open theirs. For two people who keep breaking each other out of prison, they are fucking awful at it. He doesn’t have time for them to figure out which key hits the lock in this moment. Not with Jinx laying her head on his shoulder. 

“Hey, Piltie—“ he grinds his teeth. Her eye blinks like she’s struggling to hear him. Slowly her her starts to move. “Caitlyn,” he hisses. The blue eye meets his, “you want to help? I need food. For her.”

Caitlyn frowns and Vi lets out a ragged breath. Something that sounds like relief. Caitlyn looks around and reaches for something. Vi grabs the cup on the side of the bed. Caitlyn looks from her to the cup and blinks again before taking it. Their hands brush against each other and there’s a wetness in both of their eyes that Ekko would find gross under any circumstances. Caitlyn drinks and reaches out of Ekko’s view. There’s a hushed exchange and Vi appears with a tray laden with food. 

“Finally,” Jinx sighs and Ekko realizes she’s pulled up the bandage. His heart catches as he waits for her to look for one of her ghosts but she just reached out and takes something off the plate, “how’d you get fruit up here?”

No-one seems to know how to answer and Jinx looks between them. There’s something like annoyance on her face at their silence. 

“Kiramman’s can get anything,” he says, “how hard did you hit your head?” He teases. Jinx rolls her eyes and immediately leans more against him, “shit—“

“Bring her here,” Caitlyn says and the authority in her raspy voice has him moving before he remember what a bad idea that is, “Vi—“

“I just need to sit,” she grouses. He guides her into the chair but she tangles their feet and somehow he winds up in the chair and she winds up in his lap. She slings and arm over his shoulders and drops her head onto his chest like that’s normal and looks at the pair of them, “how come you got to keep your hair?” She asks Caitlyn. 

“She didn’t crack her skull,” Vi blurts out. Jinx nuzzles closer to him. Ekko can feel the start of stubble on her skull where the bandages have rolled up, “she—“

“Lost my eye,” Caitlyn says finally. They both look at each other. The blanket moves and after a moment Vi slips her hand underneath. Just enough to keep their joined hands out of view, “my eye is gone,” Caitlyn says with a bit more firmness. 

Jinx sighs and gets more comfortable against him. 

“I wanted to steal a ship and fly away,” she complains. Vi’s throat works as Ekko’s heart jumps. But she’s not away. She’s here. Itching her stubble against his neck, “now you look like a pirate,” Vi covers her mouth with her hand. Caitlyn stares at her. Her mouth frowns and the eases, then almost smiles, “too many pirates,” she sighs, “I’m floating.”

Vi lurches forward and peers at her head. But she doesn’t let go of Caitlyn’s hand. Or maybe Caitlyn won’t let her. She and Ekko look at each other and she shakes her head. No sign of bleeding. Maybe she is just tired. It’s not like they have much leeway when it comes to not eating. Though Gods knew she tried to get out of it enough until he figured out how to make it a game she enjoyed. Now he feels her breathing start to even out and realizes she’s fallen asleep. He looks at Vi who seems painfully caught between being a big sister and a girlfriend—between all the roles that have been put on her. So Ekko chooses instead and gets his arm under Jinx’s knees. She doesn’t move when he straightens up. 

“Is there a normal room?” 

“Yeah,” Vi says. 

She gives Caitlyn’s hand a squeeze and pushes up. She leads him two doors in the opposite direction. It’s a small room but there’s clean sheets and a window. He nods and walks over to the window with Jinx in his arms, cracking it open. The fresh air makes her sigh in her dreams. Vi’s gaze is hot on his neck. He knows where her mind is, where his would be too if he didn’t know. If he hadn’t spent those days living his life in three second increments. Vi didn’t. But Vi stands there silently and doesn’t close the window. After another long moment she nods at him and leaves the room. 

When he goes to put her down he feels a tug at his hips.

Jinx has stuck her wrist into his belt. Ekko knows he could pull it out. He also knows what she is asking. It takes some maneuvering to get them onto the bed facing each other. But he’s contorted himself through worse. He gets them facing each other. His head high on the pillow, hers low but they fit. He doesn’t bother with the sheets as he pulls her into the confines of his jacket. She sighs and nudges forward more, rubbing her bandaged head under his chin. 

“Itchy,” she mumbles. 

He curves his hand up and rubs against the bandages along he skull. She sighs and buries herself even closer, working one of her legs between his. It’s new and familiar at the same time. She likes to be held like this so when she wakes up she can know he’s there without asking. Without wondering. It makes the ghosts go away. He’s never seen her sleep this deeply though. 

“Thanks,” she mumbles into his collarbone. He doesn’t know what she’s thanking him for. But he has a feeling it’s more than scratching her head, “stay?”

“Yeah,” he says, tightening his coat around them both. 

She hums and within moments is back asleep. Ekko wants to stay awake but the feel of her breath is hypnotic. Suddenly, it’s like he’s been awake since before he broke time. Like he doesn’t know how to be awake anymore. It’s hard to let go enough to sleep and not guard against the world. But Jinx keeps breathing steadily against his chest. Ekko feels his own breath catching her rhythm. He relaxes further into the beat between them. 

It’s always, always a dance. 

He never wants it to end. 

[extinctlesspains]

Hi could you do a fic with sensei wolf where Daniel’s oldest daughter is teaching the kids kata forms.wolf comes up and says something slick of how they won’t get anywhere with it.later on the kids use the forms and end up having there dojo advanced up to the next place.The reader comes up to wolf and says something like “you were saying” when she turns to leave he grabs her wrist and is like let me take you out.

A/n: I LOVE SENSEI WOLF Y'ALL DON'T UNDERSTAND 😫 I CAME WHEN HE CAME ON THE SCREEN AKDBKDBD

𝑃𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡 𝐹𝑜𝑟𝑚: 𝑆𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑖 𝑊𝑜𝑙𝑓

𝐵𝑦 𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑝��𝑖𝑛𝑠

»»——⍟——««

»»——⍟——««

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝑆𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑖 𝑤𝑜𝑙𝑓 𝑥 𝐿𝑎𝑟𝑠𝑠𝑢𝑜!𝑆𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑖!𝐹𝑒𝑚!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝑅𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝑌𝑜𝑢, 𝐷𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑒𝑙’𝑠 𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑑𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑟, 𝑎 𝑀𝑖𝑦𝑎𝑔𝑖-𝐷𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑖, 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑘𝑎𝑡𝑎 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ, 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑆𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑖 𝑊𝑜𝑙𝑓’𝑠 𝑠𝑘𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑠𝑚. 𝐼𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑, 𝑊𝑜𝑙𝑓 𝑎𝑑𝑚𝑖𝑡𝑠 ℎ𝑒 ��𝑎𝑠 𝑤𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑜𝑢𝑡, 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒.

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑓𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

The warm afternoon sun bathed the stadium of the Sekai Taikai in a golden glow, the scent of pine and fresh-cut grass lingering the training grounds. You stood at the front of the line, watching your students move in perfect unison, their kata forms flowing like water. Each motion was deliberate, precise—a dance of discipline and control.

"Remember," you called out, your voice steady, "kata isn’t just about memorizing moves. It’s about mastering yourself. Strength comes from control."

From the sidelines, Sensei Wolf leaned against the railing, arms crossed, an amused smirk playing at his lips. His piercing gaze followed the students’ movements, a skeptical glint in his eyes. He finally spoke up, his voice cutting through the focused silence.

"All this slow dancing might look pretty, but it won’t win you a real fight," he drawled, loud enough for you and the students to hear. His tone was laced with sarcasm. "You think they’ll advance by waving their arms around?"

Your eyes snapped toward him, narrowing. You kept your composure, but your jaw tightened. "Kata isn’t about brute strength, Wolf. It’s about control, precision. It teaches discipline—something you might want to learn."

A few of the students stifled giggles, but quickly fell silent under Wolf’s sharp gaze. He pushed off the railing, walking closer, his presence commanding.

"Discipline’s great," he said, voice low and challenging. "But out there, in a real fight? It’s the ones who strike hardest and fastest that win."

You crossed your arms, meeting his gaze head-on. "Control isn’t weakness. It’s what keeps you from making mistakes when it matters most. You’d know that if you watched instead of judged."

Wolf’s smirk deepened, but he said nothing more, giving a dismissive shrug before walking away.

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

The next day, the stadium was a hive of tension and anticipation. The students stood in formation, their faces set with determination. Today was the big test—the sparring matches that would decide if Miyagi-Do advanced to the next stage of the Sekai Taikai.

Wolf stood at the edge of the mat, watching with his usual air of detached skepticism. His eyes flicked to you once, a silent challenge passing between you. You returned his stare, silently daring him to underestimate you again.

The matches began. The first few rounds were tough, the opponents aggressive, their strikes fast and furious. But the Miyagi-Do students held their ground, moving with fluid grace, using their kata forms to block, deflect, and counter. Each motion was a testament to their training—a balance of power and control.

When one of your students, Hawk, faced a particularly aggressive opponent, you called out, "Remember your form! Stay focused!"

Hawk nodded, his breathing steady. He waited, patient and calm. When his opponent lunged, he sidestepped with a smooth pivot, using the momentum to sweep their leg out from under them. The opponent hit the mat hard.

The match ended with a triumphant cheer from the Miyagi-Do students. Victory after victory followed, each one earned through a blend of skill, strategy, and discipline. By the end of the day, your dojo had secured a place in the next round.

The air buzzed with excitement and relief as the students gathered, congratulating each other. You felt a swell of pride, your heart pounding. You turned, searching for Wolf. He was standing off to the side, arms crossed, an unreadable expression on his face.

You walked over, a triumphant smile tugging at your lips. "You were saying?" You teased, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckled, the smirk returning. "Alright, I’ll admit it. They did good." His eyes softened slightly. "You did good."

"Control and precision," you reminded him, a playful edge to your voice. "It’s not just ‘slow dancing.’"

He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "Maybe I misjudged it," he admitted, voice lower now. "Maybe I misjudged you."

You felt your heart skip a beat, but you kept your cool. "Well, I’m glad you finally see it."

As you turned to walk away, you felt his hand gently catch your wrist. You paused, turning back to meet his intense gaze.

"Let me take you out," he said, his voice softer, more sincere than you'd ever heard it.

Surprised but intrigued, you tilted your head, a slow smile forming. "You want to learn more about foundations?" You teased.

He grinned, the rough edges of his usual demeanor softening. "I want to learn more about you."

Your eyes sparkled. "We’ll see if you can keep up."

"Looking forward to it," he replied, his voice low and promising.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of his gaze on you. Maybe there was more to Sensei Wolf than you'd thought.

And maybe, just maybe, this was only the beginning.

[sp0o0kylights]

Adopt a Jock Part One / Previous Part / Part 10.2 (you are here)

A03

Gareth had been a part of a handful of grand finales in his day, but none of them had ever been like this.

Maybe it was the fact they’d almost died in real life.

Maybe it was the kids in the room, egging and cheering them on.

Likely it was a combination of a lot of things, up to and including the way Eddie had poured his entire soul into this game--as if in doing so, it might fix the world that had been accidentally ruined for them.

(Possibly it was the cheesy effects Eddie had somehow roped Steve into pulling off with him, which included a number of lighting changes and a smoke machine that was cool for all of five seconds before it overwhelmed the room.)

They’d stayed well past when they had the room for, shouting and cheering and screaming-- and for once no one came in to chew them out for it.

Coming out triumphant, they'd defeated the great evil Eddie had cooked up in order to save the realm.

All the twists and turns and reveals…even now Gareth still felt the victory pulsing through his bones.

They really had needed this.

“Not gonna lie, I am not ready to go home.” Gareth thinks it was Stewart who said it, but it might have been Jeff. Not that it mattered--plans were sprung sprung, and they agreed to meet up at the only place still open that wasn’t the McDonalds.

“All middle schoolers get to go home first!” Steve announced with his typical mother-hen flair, which caused a very large amount of boos to be sent his way from said children.

“It is almost 10pm, you dipshits, I don't need all your moms crawling down my throat.” he tacked on, glaring as Dustin and Grant both began loudly gagging.

“Stevie’s right!” Eddie boomed from where he was still gathering his papers, haphazardly throwing them into his backpack. “You all know your moms want him.”

“Munson--”

Hop to it, hobbits, I want a burger.” Eddie interrupted, grinning cheekily.

Steve rolled his eyes at him.

“Who are you calling a hobbit!?” Mike bit out, offended.

“if hopping makes someone a hobbit, then I guess we should start calling Eddie Frodo.” Jeff added sweetly.

“I have been walking normally for days, Jeffrey--”

Several parting shots later, the children allowed themselves to be herded outside, wherein they all stood around and proceeded to try and wheedle a ride out of anyone willing to listen to them.

“I don’t have a car today.” Tiff lied, standing in front of her family’s ancient Crown Vic.

“Sorry guys, I hitched a ride with Grant.” Jeff piled on with a grin. “And I don’t think he’s got room for all of you.”

“Come on, you’re not really gonna make us bike home? In the dark?” Dustin tried valiantly, gesturing at the sky as if it was pitch black outside.

It was not, and thus, his point was moot.

Gareth once again tuned out the ensuing argument, taking the time to just enjoy the moment.

(Maybe make a secret, near-silent bet with Jeff about who was going to break down and give the kids a ride home, communicated entirely through eyebrows and eye rolls.)

“Why are we even asking you--where the hell is Steve!?” Dustin finally shrieked, hands flung in the air in a way that was too reminiscent of Eddie to not be intentional.

Apparently Harrington wasn’t the only person he impersonated.

“Pretty sure he picked ‘stay behind to help clean.’” Grant told him, as if Eddie had ever done such a thing in his life.

“Someone tell them to hurry up.” Max grumped, hands crossed over her chest, Lucas’s arm around her shoulders. “They’re taking forever.”

“Welcome to life kid. Eddie runs on no one's clock but his own.” That from Stewart, who was also doing a grand job of pretending his mom’s car wasn’t sitting in the parking lot.

“Eddie doesn’t even know what a clock is.” Tiff said flatly, before Max could murder him for the kid comment. “I gave him one once and he acted like I gifted him a bomb.”

Darkly she muttered, “I think he ran it over with the van.”

“I’ll go get them.” Gareth announced, interrupting the entire charade before Dustin and Mike both could lose their shit. “I left my jacket in there anyway.”

More than likely Eddie's leg had begun hurting, in which case Gareth would be right about the only person besides Steve who Eddie would allow help from without falling into a snit.

(He did not want to end the night with Eddie in a snit.)

He figured the sooner he went, the sooner the whining would stop. Besides, it was just a quick trip back in, grab what he needed, and come right back out. Easy enough.

Unfortunately, Gareth forgot a few key things about surviving a horrific incident.

Mainly that PTSD was a bitch and schools were really creepy when they were empty.

At the right time of night, with the shitty, fluorescent lighting and the dark corner?

It looked a lot like the lab had.

The floor was even echoey in the same way as he slowly walked down it, each step ringing out as if to sing out his very doom.

….Which is why he immediately dived into the first door to Hawkins High’s tiny ass auditorium, rather than walk all the way down the creepy ass hallway to use the door they’d all trooped out of.

It had way more lights, and a far less chance of hiding a murder monster.

(Would he always be like this now?

Worried about shit that shouldn’t be real?

The Men in Black had done a group job of insisting this whole thing was a one off but that didn’t exactly make anyone feel better given the kids had told them they said that every time this shit happened.

Which was apparently bi-yearly.)

Unfortunately for Gareth, it also meant he was popping into a door that was at the very far back of the drama room--hidden, partly, by the costume rack Hellfire had shoved over to make room for Eddie’s throne.

He wasn’t being quiet. Didn’t think he needed to be and given his thoughts didn’t want to be-- but it wasn’t until he was through the door and weaving his way through ancient, tacky clothes that he realized Steve and Eddie hadn’t heard him come in.

Given the very compromising position they were in, Gareth doubted it would have mattered if he came in blowing a trumpet.

They were making out.

Or--no.

They weren’t.

It looked an awful lot like they were, from the angle Gareth was at, but he quickly adjusted to the low lighting and realized their heads weren’t lined up right.

He was proven right a moment later, when Steve straightened up--hand going to an all too familiar guitar pick that now hung around his neck.

“I can’t take this.” Steve protested, quiet voice made loud in the emptiness of the room.

He sounded off as he said it, a little like he had been that night at Eddie’s, when he’d been so upset about his parents. The choked, strangled voice of someone trying to reign in their emotions and doing a piss poor job about it.

Something clearly had happened between them in the ten or so minutes they’d been dragging their feet back here.

“Yes you can.” Eddie replied.

“Ed’s--”

“I’m giving it to you. You think I’ve ever offered this to anyone else?”

That was said as a challenge--Gareth very much recognized it as one--but Eddie’s bravado sounded wrong too.

Like he was trying to be serious about one part of this, while hiding another entirely. A magician performing an unfinished trick, relying on the audience to look right where he wanted without much prompting.

“Exactly. You should be giving this too--I dunno, someone who is important to you.” Steve protested, voice thick. “Not to me. Not because I was joking around. Fuck Eddie, I didn’t mean it--”

“Yes you did, and that is exactly why I’m giving it to you.” Eddie interrupted, reaching out to flick the guitar pick that now sat on Steve’s chest. “You mean something to a lot of people, Steve, and now you have proof.”

They stared at each other for one far too heated moment. 

(They were both so emotionally constipated--and Gareth absolutely shouldn’t be overhearing this.

Why were they always having these damn conversations in places he was around!? 

If either of them realized he was in the room…)

“I don’t need proof--” Steve said, but his hand had come up, trapping the one Eddie still had hovering near his chest.

“Yes you do. And you deserve to know that people want to be around you. That I want to be around you.”

Slowly, carefully, Gareth began walking backwards, trying not to make a sound.

This was way too fragile for him to ruin.

Steve made a frustrated noise. “I can’t imagine why.”

“Really? You, the person who apologized to me, told me you didn't care if I was gay, and insisted that I wasn't a satan worshiping demon, can't figure out why you’re important to me?”

Eddie’s voice faded as Gareth successfully retreated back out the way he came, doing his level best to ensure the door closed as quietly as possible.

Relief made him slump his head against the wood, and he held it there for a moment in order to give his two, idiotic friends the time they clearly needed.

Maybe Eddie would have a boyfriend after this.

(Let’s be honest, they’d have a better chance resolving their feelings by talking to a brick wall, but that wasn’t Gareth’s problem to fix.

At least not yet, anyway.)

Either way, he looped back to conquer the terrifying halfway, cursing out Munson and Harrington both the entire way down.

Made his way to the front of the door as loudly as he possibly, conceivably could, smacking into it as though he’d fumbled opening it on the first try (and only partly because being so fucking loud meant the monsters couldn’t get him.

Right?)

“Are you two done yet?” He yelled, and made sure to wait for an affirmative before barging in.

Sure enough, they were still close together, Steve with a smile on his otherwise red face and Eddie equally looking guilty, but both swung to look at him when Gareth marched in.

“Are you guys partying here or cleaning? Hurry the fuck up we want food.” He challenged, gesturing at the pile of shit Eddie still hadn’t put away. “Also the children need a ride.” 

“Dammit--” Steve growled, springing to life and trotting out past Gareth, hand running through his hair--and his other hand carefully hiding the necklace under his shirt.

Now, Gareth decided, that could let on what he’d seen, since they’d been about as subtle as a fucking hippo.

“I have told you you’re screwed, right? We’ve had that conversation?” He teased, after waiting just long enough for Steve to be out of earshot.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Eddie sniffed.

Gareth grinned, slow and mocking. “Mmm. and I’m sure the necklace I just saw was totally a copy you bought for reasons. Couldn’t possibly have been your real pick…”

Eddie’s face immediately reddened. “Shut up, Gary.”

“Whatever kind of situation could have just happened to have led you to hand over that?”

With a faked gasp, Gareth suddenly clutched at his heart. “Munson, tell me you didn't just deflower the good maiden Harrington!?”

He got punched in the shoulder for his efforts.

“Shut up, Gary!”

Quiter, not wanting to take any chances at all of being overheard, he said; “Did you tell him it was your moms?”

“No.” Eddie said, just as quiet. A true feat, for him. “And I will be furious if you tell him.”

Gareth raised his hands in surrender.

“Secrets safe with me.”

They both knew he meant it.

xXx

With the first lazy days of summer came a quiet kind of healing: Eddie finally stopped limping, Steve had gotten better about hugs and high fives, and Gareth was (mostly) sleeping through the night.

It was peaceful--or had been, until the Munson phone started to ring.

(Or maybe It had been ringing for a while, Gareth thought. Time was a little fuzzy right now.)

“Ten to one that's Henderson.” Eddie said, as the phone stopped, only to immediately start back up again.

He hauled himself up, apparently deciding the ringing was not going to stop until it was answered.

Steve, sprawled out on Eddie’s couch, groaned.

“Why is he calling here?”

“Because you're always here.”

A fun little fact Gareth knew was true more than it wasn’t.

Steve spent an awful lot of time in Eddie’s trailer these days. Gareth’s garage and the drama room too, but given how Steve seemed more eager to hang out with Eddie than anyone else, those places didn’t count.

“How do you know he's calling for me, and not D&D advice?”

“Because he worships you, dude.” Eddie drawled, returning from the kitchen where the phone now sat politely on the kitchen counter, with tinny Dustin Henderson-esque noises squawking out of it. “Not me.”

“I seriously doubt that.” Steve muttered, but heaved himself up off the couch, careful to step over Gareth--who had claimed the floor the very second Eddie had magicked a joint out of his lunch box.

“What, Henderson?” Steve said into the receiver, as Eddie flopped dramatically onto the couch.

He nearly kicked Gareth in the process, who hissed at him for it.

“Yes, yes, you’re so vicious.” Eddie cooed, and if Gareth wasn’t high, that comment would have earned a solid tackle. Alas, the floor called to him, so he simply flipped his best friend off instead.

Steve’s voice floated back from the kitchen, fond and exasperated in equal measures.

“The plan you put in my hand yesterday? Yeah Dustin, I have it.”

Whatever Dustin said in response caused him to make an offended noise, followed by a higher, actually offended noise.

“Where’d the joint go?” Eddie questioned lazily, hands idly patting the couch.

“Did you put it in your pocket again?” Gareth asked, after checking that he himself did not have it.

Eddie thought that over.

“I don’t think I’m wearing pockets.” He decided after a moment.

“Okay--okay! If anything happens I will handle it, and fill you in later.” Steve said, followed by a loud; “No.”

And then;

“I said no!”

And then;

“That's stupid, Henderson. You're two hours away at camp, you wouldn't make it back in time to do anything.”

“Is it under the couch?” Eddie asked, half watching Steve slowly sink down onto his elbows on the kitchen counter, only to spring back up anytime Dustin talked.

Gareth gave him a look.

“Why would it be under the couch?”

Eddie shrugged. “Dunno man. Joints roam sometimes, you know?” He walked a few fingers in the air, as if joints had legs and used them.

“And they walk under the couch?” Gareth challenged back. “I am amazed this trailer’s never caught on fire.”

“I wouldn’t say never, Gare-Bear.”

“Can you just go enjoy camp?” Steve pleaded in the background, sounding like the world's most disgruntled parent. “For me, man, I have to work all summer, I’m literally doing my last interview tomorrow. How am I supposed to look forward to making fun of your dorky math adventures if you don't go on any?”

Finally;

“Yeah, you little shit, you too.”

“Not to worry, we have all summer to find it.” Eddie said, before he caught up to the conversation.

Head whipping towards Steve, he accused; “Did Steve just say he got a job?”

“I wasn’t listening.” Gareth said, too busy looking under the couch in case Eddie really had dropped a lit joint under there. How he didn’t know, but this was Eddie Munson, after all.

Stupider things had happened.

Steve grumbled, “I'm hanging up now!”--before slamming the phone back into the receiver with a sigh so heavy his entire chest shook with it.

“Who knew Steve Harrington was whipped?” Gareth teased rolling back onto his back and miming cracking a whip in the air. “And to a future freshman, no less!”

“I did!” Eddie raised a hand in the air.

“Oh screw you guys.” Steve scoffed, hauling himself back to the couch. “Someone hand me the joint, I need it.”

“So bad news about that…”

Gareth got to watch in delight as Eddie tried to explain the missing joint to Steve--who was a lot less casual about being potentially lit on fire.

“Where are you interviewing at, anyway?” Gareth asked, as Eddie dramatically army-crawled to his bedroom in search of a new joint, after being thoroughly chewed out about losing the last one.

“Starcourt. Place called Scoop’s Ahoy.”

Knowing damn well he was the highest person in the room right now, Gareth frowned as he tried to recall what store that was.

It took him a moment.

Then the realization hit and glee overtook him in a wave that not even weed could temper down.

“The ice cream shop?” He said, amusement overtaking his voice.

“Yeah!” Steve said, only to immediately frown when a cackle of laughter burst out of Gareth’s mouth.

“How is that funny?”

“If you don’t already know,” Gareth snickered, “I’m not telling you.”

He was saved from having to explain by Eddie inch worming back, this time with a lit joint in his mouth.

Sparks twirled from the end of it, landing threatening on the thin carpet every time he puffed.

“Dammit Eddie you’re gonna catch the trailer on fire!”

“Supposedly he already did.” Gareth tattled.

This did not earn him any favors, but did give him endless amounts of delight when Steve dived on Eddie as if wrestling would, in fact, save them all from catching the place on fire, and not help it along instead.

God, Scoop’s Ahoy.

Gareth’s summer just got a hell of a lot better.

Bonus

If he was a good person, Gareth would have given Steve a heads up about Hellfire visiting on his second week of work.

Unfortunately, Gareth was far more interested in seeing everyone else's reactions to care. Only Tiff so far had realized what “Steve’s working at that ice cream place at the mall” meant and Gareth was in dire need of watching Eddie’s reaction to The Shorts.

“Remind me to steal Grant's camera next time.” He whispered to Hellfire as a whole as they walked up to the counter, grin growing as Eddie finally clocked Steve.

Slutty little sailor outfit and all.

Eddie’s own grin froze first, and then his limbs, eyes growing so wide they practically overtook his face. He didn’t seem to know what to do with his mouth, and so it stayed slightly open, giving the wonderful impression that he’d been paused like a VHS tape.

Gareth wanted to live in this moment forever.

“Hey Harrington, you didn't clean the--whoa.”

Steve’s coworker—a girl from band whose name Gareth couldn’t recall—stared at the group, her expression shifting into something that could only be described as “overworked minimum wage employee completely fed up with life.”

“Can I help you?” She challenged, planting her hands on her hips with one eyebrow raised.

Like he’d been shocked back to life, Eddie sprung into action.

“Oh we're here to laugh at--ow, Jeff, your elbows are like blades!”

“We're here to see Steve.” Grant said over Eddie’s screeching, before turning his own cheeky smirk on their ex-jock. “Right buddy?”

A smile flit over Robin's face, something that's got too much of an edge to it to be friendly.

“Well don't let me stop you. Take your time, we offer unlimited free samples.” She waved her hand to all the open tubs in the case, the same gesture Eddie used when pretending to be a merchant unveiling fanciful wares.

Steve frowned, head whipping to her in outrage. “Not even an hour ago you were down my throat about giving out too many!”

Robin turned innocently towards him. “I don't know what you mean.”

“You literally said and I quote, ‘Harrington we don't offer unlimited free samples!’”

“You must have misheard me.”

“Well don't convince the lady otherwise, let's try some ice cream!” Eddie said, clapping his hands together.

To the average outsider it might look like he's taking Robin's side (and advantage of the situation)

What he was actually doing is what he always did--pulling the attention back on himself to get heat off everyone else in a way that allowed him to stare greedily at Hellfire’s newly acquired sailor boy.

Steve huffed, frustrated, but pulled his scooper out of his holster anyway. Twirled it as he does so and then did it again when Eddie ooed and awed at him for it.

“Can you do tricks?”

“Like what?”

“I dunno man, throw it in the air and catch it?”

“Do not throw ice cream.” Robin warned from the spot she’d retreated too, settling against the wall to watch the show.

Idly Gareth wondered how long it would take for her to catch on that they’re all friends.

(It still surprised him to learn there were people who didn’t know they were friends.

Gareth had assumed small town syndrome would mean the entire school had figured it out by now, but there’s always people who don’t eat their lunch in the cafeteria or pay much attention to gossip.

A stereotype that Buckley fit to a perfect T.)

“Yeah Munson, I'd probably just get it all over me!” Steve added, exaggerating his own frown.

A fact Robin considered, before stating:

“On second thought, tricks would bring in more customers…”

Eddie pointed a finger her way, winking. “I think I'm starting to like you, Buckley.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Well, stop.”

(He never actually started, of course, but Gareth doesn't think she's figured that out yet.)

Bonus x2

“There’s a guy drowning in the mall fountain.” Robin announced as she trooped past, backpack slung over her shoulder. Steve had opened the store by himself today, something he had privately told Gareth he was proud of.

(“Means she’s starting to trust me!” He’d declared, triumphant, and somehow missed Eddie making a gagging noise in his peripheral vision.)

“Sonovabitch!” Steve growled, flinging the dishrag down and vaulting over the counter.

“What--” Robin sputtered, flinging herself away before she got plowed over. “Dingus we have a door--!”

Gareth said nothing, instead taking a noisy slurp of his shake as he too, turned to watch as Steve paused at the fountain’s edge, assessing the splashing happening inside of it with narrowed eyes.

“Fucking show off.” Robin finished in a mutter, as Steve seemed to decide the best course of action was to lunge forward, grabbing onto the drowning guy’s waist with both arms and bodily hauling him out.

A familiar figured flailed around for a minute before going limp, causing him and Steve both to crash to the floor and--

Gareth almost choked on his shake.

“Oh shit that’s Stewart!” He gasped, slamming the shake on the counter before rushing over to help his friends.

“There’s a trash can, right there.” Robin called after him, and when it proved ineffective, threateningly yelled;

“I’m throwing this away!”

“Dude, you're a trouble magnet, you know that?” Steve was ranting, as Stewart sputtered and hacked up fountain water.

“I thought I saw something!” He whined in between coughs as Gareth trotted up.

“Well stop it.” Steve crawled back up to his feet, trying to fix his dumb little sailor suite while glaring menacingly at Stewart.

“Was the thing you saw coins perhaps?” Gareth teased, now assured that Stewart wasn’t in danger of dying from his own stupidity (again.) “Maybe a misplaced dollar bill?”

“Shut up.” He moaned, while Gareth smirked at Steve.

Who just ran his hands through his hair, like he wasn’t fond of their antics, the liar.

“Did you decide to find it with your mouth instead of a hand, like a sane person?”

“I said shut up Gareth--”

“Let me get you real water.” Steve interrupted, being hauling Stewart back to Scoop’s, like the mom figure he so totally was.

[lucygraysboy]

“that’s what i thought. you’re the real MVP for drivin’ at this time of year. remember when we got snowed in? all those years ago? it’s a wonder we both made it home in one piece.” especially with how emotionally charged those few days were. “don’t even ask how many times i’ve seen barbie,” he laughs, blushing at the confession and gently elbowing her side when she begins to giggle. “please, she wanted to camp here, in our living room, and wait for you. i had to beg her to let you breathe, thought you might be too tired to host a party right away.” billy loves charlie and manuela with all his heart, but they can be a bit much. he didn’t want to overwhelm lucy gray. “of course, i will. though, i’m not sure if she’ll accept anythin’ from us. think your mama gave her a pretty big discount on those baby blankets.” quilts. “you’re the coolest thing i’ve seen.” no view can compete. there could be central park or statue of liberty right outside and he still wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off of her. “i have a little movie marathon planned for tonight. high school musical is on disney+.” if by the end of the day she still has enough energy to keep her eyes open, he’ll happily grab some blankets and snacks and turn it on. “i’ve just missed my pretty birdie so much. i can’t believe you’re really here.” smiling sweetly when she touches his face, he nuzzles into her palm and closes his eyes for a moment. arms coiling around her waist a little tighter, hugging her. he just prays blair doesn’t do anything silly. she’s had a hard time letting go, unarchiving old instagram posts of the two of them, trying to text him and be friends with him. it’s been long two weeks, having lucy gray here is like a breath of fresh air. “of course, i do. bryan adams, bon jovi, lucy gray baird… my favorite singers, not necessarily in this order.” it’s so cute how she always picks up on these subtle little references. “we have all the time in the world, pajarita.” the color in his cheeks deepens when she kisses his head, arms squeezing her waist three times. i love you. “if not today, we’ll check out the fun carousels and stuff tomorrow. oh, yeah… the swimming pool does have a slide and there’s hot tubs, too. wanna go to starbucks first, then for a quick swim, and to central park or maybe check out time square. there’s so many things you need to see and try.” and if she’s still against getting on a motorcycle with him, he figures they’ll use the subway, and that should be an adventure all on its own. “there’s a starbucks a few blocks away, always get my morning coffee there. but there’s also this cool, family-owned juice bar not far away from here. usually, if i just want a snack, i go to this bakery right around the corner, great pastries, delicious croissants, but the coffee isn’t all that good. are you hungry hungry? we can get pizza? i know a real good pizza place in little italy, one slice is about this big.” he uses his hands to demonstrate the enormous size of said pizza slice.

dressed in pink high waisted pants, a brown cowgirl snoopy top underneath her fleece fuzzy zip up with large flowers printed on it and a pink beanie with matching gloves. she’s super glad she brought the fuzzy jacket to shield herself against the icy cold new york winds. after finding somewhere to park the silverado, barb azure and the rest of the covey will be here later this week— god, she prays no one decides to rob her mama’s truck. it’s in a well lit and seemingly guarded parking garage to billy’s condo but still. she’s still amazed she managed to get here in one piece, actually still in shock at what she’s went through to get here. and then to come and stand in the middle of all of it, is surreal. eyes looking up at how tall everything is, buildings instead of mountains. people instead of animals— everywhere. noisy horns and crazy attitudes. no more southern hospitality to be found in sight, it’s certainly all very overwhelming but still not as bad as she imagined. and the moment billy’s came and got her, it’s like the moment in nashville again, but triple that at seeing such a fascinating sky line when the elevator ride up to his room shows her that. “i really love my flowers,” she’s in the midst of gushing about her roses and how he approached her with them like a prince when the door to his condo comes open and the inside of it makes her go speechless. “this is—” amazing. bambi eyes wide and bewildered. the interior but then the decorations… “looks like i live here.” the brunette laughs, standing in awe and confusion simultaneously. she reaches down to pull her converses off, then trails over to the living room, “look at this place. the view, the luxury, the view— that’s insane! and these,” hands touch the fairy lights, WHERE in the world did he find such girly like stuff? wait…smile dares to falter, is those blair’s? she retracts her hand, like it burns her. then eyes refocus on something else, going over to the couch to sit, a happy smile gracing her features. rainbow princess. “aww,” placing the roses on the table, she grabs the chocolates, “for me?” reading the card while opening the chocolates, taking the one with marshmallow inside it. her favorite. a sweet smile gracing her face, casting him a loving look.

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XXXII)

Chapter 32 : ‘How dense it is, how it carries inside it the memory of collapse. How difficult it is to move then’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! This is part 2 of The Party, we’re going through the same events, but from Y/N’s point of view!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3256

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Watching my friend pretend her heart isn’t breaking

On Earth, just a teaspoon of neutron star would weigh six billion tons. Six billion tons equals the collective weight of every animal on earth. Including the insects. Times three.

Six billion tons sounds impossible until I consider how it is to swallow grief – just a teaspoon and one might as well have consumed a neutron star. How dense it is, how it carries inside it the memory of collapse. How difficult it is to move then. How impossible to believe that anything could lift that weight.

There are many reasons to treat each other with great tenderness. One is the sheer miracle that we are here together on a planet surrounded by dying stars. One is that we cannot see what anyone else has swallowed.

Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

It was working, you were certain of it.

Frank was stealing glances in your direction, he wasn’t being particularly discreet about it.

George was good-looking, you had to give him credit for that. Good-looking and quite funny and charming. You genuinely laughed at one of his jokes, and he took it as permission to rest his hand on your arm. Your first thought was to push him away but you didn’t. That was the point. To make Frank jealous, so he would realise that he still wanted you. So, you let George run his fingers up your arm, his touch feathery. When you looked up, you noticed that Andrew was staring, saw him turning away in a hurry, reaching for a drink…

Samantha was with him now. Your reaction surprised you, you felt the distinctive pang of jealousy echo through your ribcage.

“How do you know our couple then?” George asked.

“I’m a friend of Frank’s,” you lied. “And you?”

“A distant cousin on Samantha’s mother’s side,” he explained with a humorous smile. “Pretty happy with the connection tonight, to be honest.”

“Yeah?”

“It means I get to talk to a very pretty woman, indeed,” he answered with a charming smile.

God, you wanted to throw up at that line… You couldn’t help but lean back, your face falling a little.

Frank was staring now, you could feel his gaze on you. When you looked past George’s shoulder, you noticed that Andrew was still talking with Samantha, his back to you. Still, you only had to wait for a couple of seconds for him to glance in your direction. You felt safer all over again, knowing he was watching over you, that he would help you get out of this mess if you needed.

You noticed that Samantha was standing closer to Andrew as well, that she touched his arm and that he let her do so.

Was your plan working? Was she trying to get closer to Andrew all over again?

How much you ached at the sight…

In a flash, you pictured Andrew kissing her, touching her, and you felt nauseous all over again. Worse than George’s intentions, the image of Andrew being with her…

You noticed that George had been talking, but you hadn’t been paying attention to his words, had no idea what he was on about. You faked interest, but when he moved closer again, you took a full step back… Andrew didn’t see you doing that, he was talking with Samantha…

You were surprised when Frank’s voice suddenly appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. And indeed, Frank was now walking towards George and you, but he didn’t seem to pay you any attention. He turned to George instead, pushing you out of the conversation. You felt invisible then, you could only stare at Frank while he ignored you so completely.

If always felt like you were heard and seen whenever you were with Andrew…

“Hi! Oh, I’m such a terrible host, I don’t think we’ve met before,” he said with a polite smile. “I’m Frank.”

“George. One of Samantha’s cousins…”

“Oh, yes! Of course! How lovely to have you, thank you for coming! And on such short notice, I know everything happened kind of quickly between Sam and I.”

You clenched your jaw at his words as you were pulled right back into the whole mess of your breakup, of his rejection, of him calling off your wedding just to announce his engagement to someone else…

All this was so fucked up… and now he was talking to this guy like you weren’t even here, like you didn’t matter, like you hadn’t been together for six years…

Your eyes drifted on their own accord beyond the two men talking before you, to reach Andrew’s tall figure on the other side of the room. Would he ever behave like this towards you? Would he ever be able to do something like that to anyone?

And what were you doing, trying to make Frank jealous? You thought about all that had happened, how Frank had shattered your heart, your self-esteem, all traces of love you had been putting in your relationship. All you took for granted in this world crumbled when he left, when he cancelled your wedding. You had spent years waiting for a proposal, had accepted to remain engaged for a year and a half because he wanted to focus on his career, when he didn’t care about yours. And then he was breaking up with you like it didn’t matter, like there was nothing in your love worth fighting for. He threw it all away for a woman he had met a few weeks before… and you were trying your best to get a man like that back?!

What the fuck were you doing?!

And Andrew was standing right over there, with his ex, that asshole you dreamt of punching in the face for how poorly she had loved him and treated him at the end of their relationship. But you weren’t better, trying to slither your way back into Frank’s heart.

Was it worth it?

Was Frank really what you wanted?

You hadn’t paid much attention to Frank and George, and their casual chit-chat. You were surprised when Frank took a step closer to George, seeming almost menacing now. He said something, but his voice was too low for you to hear him. Still, it seemed to work, as George left, without sparing you a glance.

Frank finally turned to you, a smile he thought must have been charming on his lips, but you saw the syrupy side of it; how it seemed too sweet to be savoury, too good to be true.

“You’re alright, babe?”

Babe… you thought of all the times he had called you that before, and you couldn’t help it, couldn’t refrain your want to hear it again… you had thought he would spend his life calling you that.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you nodded.

“The guy seemed to be bothering you.”

“I could handle it, but thank you.”

“No worries. You know you can always count on me.”

Could you? For what? Count on him for what? Breaking your heart?

God, it was working… you couldn’t believe it was working… Frank had come running to the rescue, he was giving you the attention you had been seeking, so why were you not falling for him all over again? Why weren’t you happy about his reaction?

You glanced over at Andrew. His cheeks were flushed, you guessed partly because of the empty glass in his hand and the way he glowered at Samantha. He seemed so angry, you had never seen him like this…

What was going on?

“Thank you for coming tonight, it means a lot,” Frank said, and you forced yourself to focus on him again.

“Of course. I said I would come to the wedding, so…”

“Yeah, but… you’ve been of great help and… I’m glad we can remain friends despite everything that happened.”

Everything that happened because of you, Frank…

“Yeah…”

You should have added something about you not caring about the past, or about caring about him anyway… but you didn’t feel like it was the truth.

“Saw that you came with Andrew, too! I’m glad you two are getting along. I take it that it’s going well at work?”

“Yeah, it’s going great,” you nodded. “Andy has been of great help when I arrived, he’s explained how all the administrative stuff worked, and helped me around the campus as well. Even if I studied there, there are many places I didn’t go to as a student, and the place is a labyrinth. And my research is going great! I’ve found an interesting article that I’ve discussed with Andy, and it’s been of great help for my own work…”

“That’s nice! Sounds great!”

It sounded like an encouragement, but he was still interrupting you. He sounded supportive and yet he wasn’t listening to you, because he didn’t care.

Andrew was right. He had been right all along…

“He seems like a nice guy, that Andrew,” Frank went on, and you narrowed your eyes at the sound of his tone. It sounded casual, but you knew to recognise a bit of mockery too, something poisonous in its undertone. “A bit boring, maybe.”

You let out a breathy, humourless chuckle.

“Boring? No, Andy’s definitely not boring. He’s a little shy, but he’s great fun once you get to know him. And he’s very smart, always has interesting things to say. And he’s just… nice. Really nice.”

Frank raised a surprised eyebrow.

“You almost make him sound like a catch.”

“He is one.”

Frank didn’t seem to like that answer, you saw how he clenched his jaw. You were surprised when he moved closer though, rested a hand on your waist. And you used to like that touch, but not right now. Right now you didn’t like it at all.

“You look beautiful tonight, by the way.”

It was working. Your stupid plan was bloody working…

From the corner of your eyes you saw that Andrew was moving away from Samantha now, until he was drinking again and making a bee-line towards the exit. He walked by you, you noticed how he extended his fingers in your direction as he passed by, but he didn’t reach out. He walked out of the venue instead.

You moved away from Frank. Andrew seemed devastated and very, very drunk…

“I’d better go,” you mumbled.

“Wait, Y/N…”

“Andy doesn’t seem well, I should check on him.”

He chuckled.

“Who are you? His mother? He probably had too much to drink, that’s all.”

But he seemed to read it in your stare that there was more to it than that. He glared, but you didn’t care.

“I’ll go check on him,” was your only answer, before walking away.

You hurried after Andrew, leaving Frank behind. You didn’t look back, didn’t check his expression, didn’t try to guess if he was jealous, or considered what he was thinking. Truth was, you spotted Andrew again, staggering across a patch of grass near the parking lot, and you were too worried about him to care about anyone else.

“Andy!”

You called after him, and he spun around, tripping over his own feet. You reached out to steady him, even if you were a little too far to help. You hurried by his side, and noticed at once that he was indeed drunk. Very drunk.

“You’re okay?” you asked while you walked closer.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” but his voice was weak, almost shy. He was clearly lying, and not doing a very good job at it.

“Are you drunk?”

It was a stupid question, it was obvious that Andrew had been drinking too much. You still asked, and perhaps it was just to hear his voice again. It was soft, and kind, and warm… soothing. Filling up the air with something safe and quiet, instead of Frank’s booming tones.

“A little bit,” he admitted, averting his eyes in a sheepish way.

“Do you want me to take you home? I didn’t drink at all tonight…”

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, opening and then closing his mouth. He stared at you, gaze intense and unwavering, and yet he seemed to see more than just you in that moment. Like he was playing a scene in his head, like he was getting lost in thought, even though his thoughts were about you.

He staggered, looked away to sit in the grass.

“I think I’m… gonna stay here for a couple of minutes,” he answered, voice distant and words slurred by too much whiskey.

He seemed sad. Sad and angry. You wanted to hug him, to wrap a blanket around him and tell him everything was going to be okay. Instead, you merely sat down by his side.

“You’re okay?” you asked again, voice gentle, caring.

He seemed to lean a little closer, but didn’t reach out, he folded his arms around his legs instead. And you hated seeing him like that, you knew what he was doing. He was shrinking, trying to disappear, trying to bend to conceal how tall he was, to hide, so that no one would notice him anymore. And you hated when he did that, because there was nothing in him worth hiding…

“Aren’t you supposed to be with Frank?” he asked, voice strained with pain, and you didn’t quite know what to do with that sound aimed at you.

Was he sad because of Samantha, or because of Frank? Perhaps both…

“You didn’t seem well,” you explained.

“I’m fine. This is your chance, it was working…”

You clenched your jaw, looked away. Andrew was right, it was working. Frank was being jealous, he was giving you the attention you had craved for… you could have used that opportunity to make him see how crazy it was for him to leave you for Samantha, and then to decide to get married after only a couple of months, to rush this wedding…

But you didn’t want to. Because Frank was never paying attention to you. This was another proof. It was all about him, and not about you. And there was Andrew, who was obviously in pain, obviously angry and sad and drunk, and… and he was still thinking about you.

You were a fucking fool, for still wanting Frank or… or rather, for convincing yourself that you still wanted him. Andrew was right, Frank was a fucking prick. And you deserved better than him.

“I’d rather stay with you for a while,” you breathed, something pained and aching in your voice.

Andrew’s gaze hardened, but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you. That his burst of anger that made his eyes darker than usual was not your doing. You took a moment to stare at him, to study his features bathed in the dim lights of the evening, a mix of orange streetlights, of silver moonlight, of white neon lights from the venue. He looked so handsome, despite his tiredness, despite his sorrow…

“I saw you talking with Samantha? What did she say?” you asked, changing subject, trying not to think of how much you wanted to run your fingers through his untamed curls, brush your fingertips across his cheekbone…

You saw him clenching his jaw and immediately regretted your question. But he seemed in so much pain, you insisted, asked again.

“What did she say?”

He shrugged. You didn’t mean to push him, but this was important. You knew he wanted to talk about it, you could read it in his eyes.

“She cheated on me with Frank.”

Your eyes grew round, you were too stunned for a moment.

The fucking bitch… she had cheated on Andrew?! What was wrong with this woman?! Was it really so hard to end things before moving on? How could she hurt him like that… God, you wanted to punch her straight in the face.

“He didn’t cheat on you,” Andrew hurried to add, and you guessed he wanted to reassure you, but the truth was, you hadn’t even thought of Frank, of the possibility of him cheating, you had to admit you didn’t care about it at all, you were too infuriated by Samantha. “It happened right after he broke up with you, but she hadn’t broken up with me yet… so technically…”

“What a fucking bitch…” you spat, and he was visibly surprised by the harshness of your words, so much so that he giggled.

“Yeah, you can say that.”

“I’m so sorry, Andy,” you breathed, reaching to rub his back.

“It’s okay. I just… I just want to forget her now.”

You nodded but looked away. You should be doing the same. Especially after tonight… but a part of you still wanted this life you had built for yourself. You realised then that you didn’t even want Frank, you wanted the life he had taken from you. You were not ready to grieve that part yet…

Why couldn’t you just… move on?

“So… I’m losing my partner in crime?” you joked, but there was something strained in your voice.

“I’ll still help you with Frank, that’s alright. If… if that’s what makes you happy…”

What would make you happy… You didn’t know what could make you happy now. You were too lost for that. Your past was haunting you too much for you to yield in your impulsive thought now, the one that could make you feel something. So, you just stared at Andrew’s lips for a moment, caught in a stillness you couldn’t free yourself from. You leaned closer, rested your head on his shoulder. He didn’t move away, let you rest your weight on him, like an anchor, something you could rely on. Better yet, he reached out, extended his arm until you were wrapped into his embrace, and he pulled you closer, gently, like he was afraid you would pull away if he let on how much he wanted to have you close. He didn’t seem to know how much you wanted him to hold you. And for a while, you bathed into his warmth, into the feeling of his hand on your arm, into his scent, into the soothing rhythm of his breathing. You felt so safe in his arms, sheltered, and you realised then that there had been few people with whom you could feel so safe, so free. You weren’t nervous about being vulnerable in front of him, you trusted him not to mock or dismiss your fragility. You trusted him to stay and listen, you trusted him not to hurt you. You trusted him not to leave you, not tonight, at least...

You tried to remember a time when you saw Frank this way, a safe haven. At the beginning, maybe. A little. That wasn’t fully true, though. You had always been worried that he would get bored, and leave…

“Let’s get you home, Andy,” you broke the comfortable silence that had settled around you, broke his embrace to get up. You offered him your hand and helped him up, let him lean on you while you walked to your car.

And you wanted to tell him about Frank, about how you weren’t so sure you wanted him anymore, and especially, about how you thought of him all the time. How you didn’t long to see Frank these days, but you couldn’t wait to go to work because then you would see Andrew. About how you had never been able to talk about what truly interested you with Frank, you realised that now… now that you could talk about all of it for hours with Andrew. How you wanted to hold his hand, and tug his hair behind his ear, and kiss his cheek, and kiss his lips. How you dreamt of him sometimes, which sounded crazy, but it was true. How you dreamt of him touching you, of him holding you, of him loving you. And you wanted to tell Andrew that you longed to forget about your exes, but you weren’t sure to be ready to admit the feelings you had for him, because then it would make you vulnerable in front of a man all over again, and considering how it had ended with Frank, you weren’t certain you wanted that once more…

God, you wanted him. You wanted to kiss him now, in the streetlights, even if he was drunk. But you were afraid, and so you didn’t.

[gotorux]

Satoru Gojo x Reader

Author note: This is my first time writing anything. If there is any mistakes bear with me. I had asked for requests and got an anon asking for a fight with Gojo that ends in comfort. 1.2k words

"How many late nights has this been?" you asked, as your boyfriend got yet another call from the higher ups for a mission only the great Satoru Gojo could handle. He just grinned, that infuriatingly charming grin that could melt the toughest of glaciers, but right now, felt like a slap in the face. "Just a little field trip," he said, waving a hand dismissively. “Couple of energy drinks and I’ll be fine.” 

His casualness always grates you, he never seemed to take any of your concerns seriously. This wasn't "a couple of energy drinks" kind of situation. This was another cursed spirit, another scary experience that he brushed off like a stray piece of lint on his pristine white shirt. You'd seen the exhaustion etched onto his face, the way his usually vibrant blue eyes held a dull, weary glimmer. He’d been pushing himself too hard, running on fumes for months. The casual jokes, the lighthearted dismissals of his lack of sleep…it wasn't funny anymore.

"Gojo, this isn't funny," your voice finally cracked, holding a sharpness to it that you hadn’t intended to leak through. His carefree attitude crumbled a fraction at your words, a flicker of something akin to guilt crossing his features before he replaced it with his usual arrogance.

"Relax, sweetheart," he said, his tone dismissive, making your blood boil and that tiny little vein on your forehead pop. "I'm invincible. Worrying about me is a waste of your time."

That was it. He brushed your concerns off again and the dam broke. “A waste of my time?" Your voice rose, not something that was common with you. You were usually so chill, so relaxed and Gojo loved that about you. But right now you were anything but. 

“You're talking about your life, Gojo! Your life! And you treat it like a child's game! I'm worried sick about you all the time, and you're making jokes! You're pushing yourself to the brink, and if something happens—"

"Something's not going to happen," he cut you off, his voice rising in irritation. "I told you, I'm fine. You don’t need to baby me."

He didn't mean to worry you. He never meant to. He couldn’t understand why you didn’t trust in his capabilities. He’d never been hurt before, sure he was tired from time to time but he was the strongest for a reason. The world needed him. 

"Then don’t act like a child!“ You immediately regret the words as they leave your lips, you didn’t mean it. Of course you didn’t mean it, it was just words spilling out from frustration. You could see his usual playful smile harden into a thin line that you don’t think you’d ever seen. Your heart pounded against your rib cage and the silence in the air was palpable. 

He didn't say anything. He just turned, his back stiff, his shoulders tense, the tell-tale signs of barely contained fury you don’t think you’d ever seen on your lover. He didn't look back. He just left, the slam of the door echoing the shattering of your heart.

The silence that followed was deafening. The apartment, usually vibrant with laughter and love, felt empty, hollow. A heavy blanket of dread settled over you, suffocating you with its weight. You sank onto the sofa, staring blankly at the empty space where he’d been standing just moments ago. Where did he go? Did he just…leave? Was that it? Was this the end?

Hours blurred into a nightmarish haze of worry as you silently cried into a couch pillow. Your phone remained stubbornly silent as the worst thoughts clawed at your mind. He hadn't even tried to call. He just left. The irrational fear of losing him gnawed at you, an ache that threatened to consume you whole.

You tried to sleep but you couldn’t. You just lay there, awake, tears dried up and unable to fall anymore. The thought of a world without him was pretty unbearable, but it was the only thought ticking away inside your head. 

——

The first hint of dawn painted the sky a pale, washed-out grey. You hadn’t been able to force yourself to move or function for what seemed like forever. You’d barely got any sleep, the knawing thought just clawing at your mind over and over. 

Then, suddenly, you hear a soft knock on the door. Your breath caught in your throat. Your heart pounded a frantically against your ribs. You tiptoed to the door, your hand trembling as you reached for the knob. You braced yourself for anything, except what you found. It was him.

He stood there, his usual bright blue eyes shadowed with fatigue and what was it, maybe guilt? He looked…smaller somehow. Which was seemingly impossible given his tall stature. But here he was, the invincible Satoru Gojo was gone, replaced by a weary young man burdened by something more than cursed spirits.

He said nothing, just stood there, his shoulders slumped, his usual radiant smile replaced by a frown. You opened the door, letting him in.

"Gojo," you whispered, your voice choked with sadness.

He walked towards you, his movements almost hesitant. He reached for you, tentative at first before his long arms wrapped around you and held you against his chest. 

"Look, ” He finally spoke, voice softening in apology, “I’m sorry," he said, and you could hear all the regret laced in his apology. "I was being an idiot."

You wrapped your arms around him, clinging to him as if he was the only thing keeping you afloat. The scent of his cologne bringing the slightest comfort to you.

"I was so scared," you admitted, your voice trembling against his chest. "I thought…I thought you were like…leaving me. I don’t wanna break up.” 

He pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his big hands, his thumbs gently wiping away tears that had escaped your eyes without you even realizing. "Never," he said, a crinkle in the lines of his forehead showing his absolute seriousness. "Never." He repeated. 

"But…" you started, though he cut you off.

"I know," he started, lifting a hand from your cheek to run it through his tousled white hair. "I know I‘ve been pushing myself. You’re right. I just don’t know what else I’m supposed to do? I’m all the way at the top and there’s nobody else here to take any of the burden ya know?” 

“It’s not just the missions,” you replied softly, "It's everything. It’s your disregard for your own well-being, your tendency to brush off things that hurt you. I know they need you, I know you’re the strongest I just…I don't want you to be invincible, Gojo. I want you to be…safe. I want you to be happy."

He smiled. “I am happy,” he said, running a thumb over your bottom lip. “As long as I’m with you.” 

You looked up at him, pouting slightly. He was always so god damn charming even in the most serious of moments. "Okay," you whispered, "Just promise me you'll take care of yourself. I know okay? I know there’s nothing I can do about the missions, but- just…I don’t know, let me help you. Let me take care of you okay?” 

He looked down at you, your adorable pouty expression making it impossible for him not to lean down and press his lips to yours, which he does. He kisses you, and in that kiss lays bare a promise to do better, be better; because frankly he couldn’t lose the best thing that’s ever happened to him. You.

[supercap2319]

So I just saw wicked and I desperately need something with Fiyero having his sights set not on Glinda but Glinda’s brother y/n

Y/N Upland always knew that he was different. From a young age, he realized that he didn't fit in with the rest of his family, and not just because he was attracted more to boys than girls. When he was born, Y/N was given the rare gift of ice and snow, bringing great promise to the Upland name.

His mother and father tried to turn his talent into something that would make Y/N think he was better than the rest of the people of Oz, but Y/N didn't want that. He just wanted to be normal. That's why he made himself scarce as much as possible. He dressed in normal clothing and he preferred to be alone, instead of playing with other children his age. Then came Galinda, the pride and joy of the Uplands. Galinda was beautiful and had a certain way of getting whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. The biggest difference between Y/N and his sister… he chose books. She chose looks, and it was certainly working out better for Galinda than Y/N.

She was beloved by all in Gillikin Country. The one everyone thought would succeed, whereas Y/N, would be the first ever person to disgrace his family as the ‘Upland Freak of Nature.’ And maybe they were right. To an extent. The cost of powers always came with a price, and even though Y/N was powerful, he was very bad at controlling them. It was one of the main—if not the most important -- reason to attend Shiz University to gain a better understanding of his powers, and how to properly control them. Unsurprisingly, Galinda was also majoring in sorcery.

That's how he and Galinda arrived on a pink boat to Shiz University, Galinda practically bouncing with excitement. Her pink outfit was pressed and crisp as her nails. “Oh, Y/N! I simply can't wait to attend Madame Morrible's sorcery seminar. I just know I'm going to ace it.” She flashed pretty white teeth that hurt Y/N’s eyes. He pulled his sparkly blue cape over his shoulders. “I'm sure you will, and maybe, just maybe, you'll be able to help me with this.” He made a small snowflake dance on the palm of his hand before closing it.

“Of course, brosicle.” Galinda laughed.

Once they were close enough to the school, Galinda stood on the back of the boat and sat down on her luggage, looking like a queen on her throne. A few students in blue and brown uniforms waved to them as Galinda waved back. Y/N looked down at the water until they were docked. Stepping off the boat, Galinda and her ten thousand pieces of luggage were greeted by their mother and father at the docks.

“Oh, we're so proud of you!” Their father said, as he and their mother gave Galinda kisses. “Thank you. I love you. Just remember, it's not goodbye. It's farewell.” Galinda told them.

“We love you.” Their mother said, finally taking notice of Y/N. “Oh, and you too, sweetie. You'll be good. Probably not as good as your sister, but good enough.” She said.

“Wow. Thank you, mother. Your words of reassurance melt my heart.” Y/N said, tone sarcastic.

Arduenna Upland looks at his son. “You make sure to look after Galinda, Y/N. See to it that she's comfortable, and well taken care of.”

“Of course, father. I wouldn't dream of disappointing you and mother again for the what? Sixtieth time?” He said.

“Just don't do anything to make trouble.” Arudeena said. He looks at Galinda and smiles with happiness and pride. “Have all your kisses? And you will write?”

“Yes. I love you. Sad time. Miss you already.” Galinda said.

“Popsicle board the boat.” Y/N said.

“They are going to miss me so much.”

“Us.”

“Right. That's what I said. Us.” Galinda said.

…

“Attention, students! It is my honor to announce that Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie country will be filling out our student body. Having transferred from the Royal Winkie Academy. Please help him feel welcome. Without making direct eye contact.”

That's how Y/N and all of the student body at Shiz found themselves in the courtyard by the fountain, waiting for some spoiled Prince from Winkie country. Y/N to suppress the urge to roll his eyes as the Prince rode in on a horse. A blue horse. How original. Lines of male and female suitors were watching as the Fiyero walked passed, his black boots echoing against the ground. Some winked at him, while others twirled their hair in hopes of catching the Prince’s attention. He seemed unbothered.

Fiyero had light brown hair with blonde streaks on it. He wore a tailored navy blue suit with golden trimmings. He headed towards the bulletin board and asked a gawking male student to move as a faculty member checked out his ass. Y/N rolled his eyes from his position across from where Fiyero was. He has been studying with Madame Morrible and another student named Elphaba. He was currently reading a book about the history of ice magic in Oz as he watched Galinda swipe a book from a nearby student, and tried to pretend to be uninterested.

“Are you looking for something?” Galinda asked. She flips her blonde hair dramatically. “Or…someone?”

“No, I was…” Fiyero starts, but stops when his eyes look past Galinda and looked at Y/N.

Y/N frowns. Why was Prince McDimples looking at him like that?

“Sorry…what was I doing?” Fiyero asked.

“How would I know?” Galinda shrugged.

“Maybe it was that young man over there.” Fiyero smiles in Y/N’s direction. Galinda follows his gaze and frowns. “That's Y/N. My brother.”

“Brother you say? Well, I fancy I should meet him as well, don't you agree?”

“I guess.” Galinda pouted as Fiyero had eyes for Y/N, but her.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

I just love this fic! Jason is so sweet, and I wanna wrap him and the reader up in a warm blanket, give them tea, and kiss their foreheads. fr, OP, your work is stunning, and I'm devouring every line!! I talk about my favorite parts below the cut!

The quiet snores echoing in the air and the soothing rise and fall of his chest against your back would usually be enough to lull you into a gentle morning sleep. But usually you can breathe out of both sides of your nose.

Plsss, I was hooked immediately by this!! The relationship building in the first sentence and just how domestic it is has me clutching my heart! And then the next line actually had me giggling. We've all been there fr

You feel a sneeze coming on and try to stifle it, to keep it locked tight in your lungs so you won’t wake the love of your life from the rare bit of peace and quiet he gets. You make no noise, but the shaking of your body stirs him anyway. Damn vigilantes and their preternatural awareness. He hums lazily as he pulls you further into his chest.

ahhh, they're precious!! I know he's an unfairly light sleeper, and you couldn't get away with a thing.

“Then why do you sound like the Swedish Chef from the Muppets?”

WHEEZING!! He's gonna hit, and that's what happens when you mess around with someone when they're already sick 😤

You push yourself out of his arms and make it as far as the edge of the bed before he’s pulling you back to him again. “Aw, c’mon, ma. Don’t be mad. You are sick. Just admit it,” he says, voice kind as he runs his hand up and down your spine.

... he's forgiven, that's adorable, and I'm weak for pet names

He just squeezes you back, then manhandles your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He rises from your bed like you weigh nothing to him, hefting you into the air so that you’re better positioned.

Jason Todd carrying people supremacy. I'm swooning over here!

You can see it in the fact that everything he needed for this was already in your kitchen, in the fact that none of it was there when you fell asleep last night while he was on patrol. Jason cares. He cares from the tip of the stubborn curl that sticks up on the top of his head to the soles of his feet that guide you in a slow waltz around the kitchen.

AHH! THIS!!! Jason Todd and slow dancing in the kitchen is my WEAKNESS!! And he cares so much!! Yes, yes, and yes, this is sooo him! Actually, I'm going insane over this paragraph! Just, yes, I looove the line about the curl of his hair to the soles of his feet, it's just so picturesque. 10/10 has my whole attention. 💙

You nod your head that’s tucked against his chest, sniffling as you feel your nose start to run. Without missing a beat, Jason pulls a tissue from the pocket of his pajama pants and hands it to you.

The sigh I just let out was soooo dreamy

He goes rigid momentarily before he relaxes against you. Then a soft smile breaks out on his face. He chuckles and shakes his head, turning his face away from you. But you can be observant too. You don’t miss the way pink dusts his cheeks and, oh, he looks so pretty like this.

Jason Todd is a pretty boy and I will never keep quiet on that fact!!

Jason reads the new book he was telling you about as you listen to music, dozing in and out of consciousness. It’s not your fault he makes such a great pillow; his large body is warm and soft as he lies relaxed on your sofa. Every now and then, especially when he thinks you’ve fallen into a light sleep, he’ll place a featherlight kiss on the top of your head.

SWOONING! Cuddling with him on the couch is just chef's kiss

Carrying you out of bed, making you soup, letting you rest on him, the soft kisses and touches he flutters over your skin; it’s all his way of saying he loves you when the words themselves are simply too much or not enough.

ugh, yes! Sometimes words aren't enough to get the feelings across, but he shows them with every action and look, and I love him, your honor

And maybe it’s the homemade soup settled in your belly, or the afternoon sunlight shining through the window, or the warmth of the man you love beneath you, but you soon find yourself lulled into a peaceful sleep that feels just like home.

This is the sweetest, omg, I feel like I just ate my favorite candy. Seriously, OP, I'm eating up your work!! It's fantastic, and I'm enthralled! 💙💙

darling, won’t you take me home?

jason todd x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: reader has a mild cold, but nothing much else (lmk if I missed anything)

a/n: this is just a lighthearted sick fic that got real prose-y at the end bc I was listening to my Jason playlist and got all in my feelings while drowsy off cold medicine. again, i give thee my wares.

divider credit: saradika-graphics

You wake to soft light filtering in through the white curtains of your bedroom and the warm weight of your lover’s arm across your waist. The quiet snores echoing in the air and the soothing rise and fall of his chest against your back would usually be enough to lull you into a gentle morning sleep. But usually you can breathe out of both sides of your nose. And you usually don’t feel like there’s sandpaper in your throat. And your body doesn’t usually feel this heavy.

Goddamn it–you’re sick.

You feel a sneeze coming on and try to stifle it, to keep it locked tight in your lungs so you won’t wake the love of your life from the rare bit of peace and quiet he gets. You make no noise, but the shaking of your body stirs him anyway. Damn vigilantes and their preternatural awareness. He hums lazily as he pulls you further into his chest. You think he might be able to doze back off and you’re glad for it. Then your hopes are dashed. One, two, three sneezes wrack your body in succession and you are finally forced to admit defeat.

“Are you sneezing?” Jason asks, groggy but inquiring.

“…no.”

You don’t even know why you tried to lie to him. You’re a bad liar in most cases, and an absolutely abysmal liar when it comes to Jason. He simply sighs and you’d bet twenty dollars that he’s rolling those pretty seafoam eyes of his. He easily turns you in his arms so that you’re facing him. Great, now you really won’t be able to lie to him.

“I told ya that you were gettin’ sick,” he scolds gently.

“‘M not sick!”

He did. And you are.

“Then why do you sound like the Swedish Chef from the Muppets?”

“Oh, fuck you!”

He tries to keep his face serious, but soon the facade cracks and he lets out a deep belly laugh as you glare at him. You push yourself out of his arms and make it as far as the edge of the bed before he’s pulling you back to him again.

“Aw, c’mon, ma. Don’t be mad. You are sick. Just admit it,” he says, voice kind as he runs his hand up and down your spine.

“Okay. Fine. Whatever,” you mumble, your words trailing off unintelligibly.

Jason doesn’t miss it. He never does. Fucking vigilantes and their fine tuned hearing.

“What was that?” he smirks.

You whisper it again, quiet as a mouse. He shakes his head. You smack him in the chest.

“Ah ah, I wanna hear it,” he laughs.

“I said you were right! There! You happy now?” you pout, burying your head in his chest.

You can feel the giggles travel through his body and find it impossible to fight the smile it brings to your face, even if your head feels foggier than Gotham after a heavy rain. You squeeze him tight, a sudden aggressive love for him that you just need to let out. It does nothing to his strong frame. He just squeezes you back, then manhandles your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He rises from your bed like you weigh nothing to him, hefting you into the air so that you’re better positioned.

“C’mon, we’re makin’ soup.”

One thing about Jason Todd is that he’s an amazing cook. He didn’t cook much for himself before he met you. He’s told you he didn’t see any point when cheap takeout would fuel his body just fine for whatever fight was inevitably coming for him. But now he has both the reason and the time to care. And he cares. So much.

You can see it in the way he sets the chicken to bake while he tells you about the new book he got from the bookstore down the block. You can see it in the way his skilled hands, calloused and bruised, slice the carrots razor thin because he knows you hate the crunch of them. You can see it in the barely noticeable look of pride on his face as all the ingredients simmer in the big metal pot, giving your shared home a warm aroma of comfort. You can see it in the fact that everything he needed for this was already in your kitchen, in the fact that none of it was there when you fell asleep last night while he was on patrol. Jason cares. He cares from the tip of the stubborn curl that sticks up on the top of his head to the soles of his feet that guide you in a slow waltz around the kitchen.

“I know you probably aren’t too hungry, but I need you to try to eat at least one bowl for me,” he says in his gentlest negotiation voice as he puts a bowl of chicken noodle soup on the counter.

You nod your head that’s tucked against his chest, sniffling as you feel your nose start to run. Without missing a beat, Jason pulls a tissue from the pocket of his pajama pants and hands it to you.

“And you’re takin’ cold medicine the second you get some food in you.”

He’s not asking anymore, just stating facts.

“Gonna stay up all night watching me too?” you ask teasingly.

“I might,” he retorts.

“I love you too, Jay.”

He goes rigid momentarily before he relaxes against you. Then a soft smile breaks out on his face. He chuckles and shakes his head, turning his face away from you. But you can be observant too. You don’t miss the way pink dusts his cheeks and, oh, he looks so pretty like this. You tell him as much just to watch the soft pink turn to vibrant red.

“Shut up and eat your soup.”

One bowl of soup and a disgusting shot of cold medicine later, you find yourself wrapped in the arms of your lover as you both lounge on the couch. Jason reads the new book he was telling you about as you listen to music, dozing in and out of consciousness. It’s not your fault he makes such a great pillow; his large body is warm and soft as he lies relaxed on your sofa. Every now and then, especially when he thinks you’ve fallen into a light sleep, he’ll place a featherlight kiss on the top of your head.

You may not be a vigilante or The World’s Greatest Detective, but you can put all the pieces of the day together well enough. Carrying you out of bed, making you soup, letting you rest on him, the soft kisses and touches he flutters over your skin; it’s all his way of saying he loves you when the words themselves are simply too much or not enough. But the words are enough for you. You swear that you’ll go to your grave finding all the prettiest ways to tell him just how much you love him. Because you do.

And maybe it’s the homemade soup settled in your belly, or the afternoon sunlight shining through the window, or the warmth of the man you love beneath you, but you soon find yourself lulled into a peaceful sleep that feels just like home.

[funhouse-mirror-barbie]

How I would re-write Stella Goetia, Backstory + Season 1

Probably my most popular posts on this blog are about Stella from Helluva Boss. I like to talk about her because I think she had the potential to be a really nuanced character, and I really would’ve loved to see her and Stolas have a more complicated relationship.

So I’d like to talk about the direction I would’ve taken her characterization and story in.

I do need to stress that this is NOT a writing “fix-it” post. Canon Stella may be an evil bitch, but she’s MY evil bitch and I LOVE HER. I’ve already talked quite at length about how her character and conflict with Stolas being purely black and white is not a bad story decision, but to me is less interesting than having a grey or nuanced conflict.

I just want to go over a rough outline of what I would’ve done with her as a character. Just because it’s different, doesn’t mean it’s better or is “fixing” the canon story. I also am not trying to make Stella inherently more sympathetic/likable/or “woobify” her—this is just a ROUGH outline of what I’d do to flesh Stella out as a person, and ideas I’ve had for her character that would make her (and her relationships with Stolas and Via) more appealing to me personally.

I just really wish Stella had gotten more depth, and wanted to talk about it.

(LONG) Rewrite Summary below!!!

While I think there’s also an interesting re-write where Stella and Stolas are not in an arranged marriage, and may explore this idea as well, this time around I am going to be sticking with the canon background that their marriage was arranged.

Instead of having Stella be an evil heartless spoiled child who strangles puppies, I would give her a very strict upbringing where from birth she was groomed to be the “perfect noblewoman and wife”—I would base her upbringing and the expectations placed on her on what was expected of Regency noblewomen.

Basically, Stella would be raised to be able to run the house/estate when Stolas was away, be accomplished in the “domestic arts” (hosting events such as parties and balls, being able to do embroidery and other hobbies “befitting” of her class, and being involved in charitable efforts). She would be taught to be quiet, graceful, courteous, and to always anticipate the needs of her husband.

Stella’s “true” personality as a young child would be boisterous, loud, and precocious. Stella loved playing outside, singing loudly, and dancing.

She would have gotten in trouble with her parents often due to this (“Dancing for fun is what the poor do, Darling. You should only dance to find a suitable husband”) and would be punished by her Father by his ordering the rest of the family and their staff to ignore Stella completely and act like she didn’t exist. This would usually result in Stella acting out even more to try and MAKE everyone pay attention to her, until she’d get too tired to continue and start acting “proper” (I.e. quiet, not speaking too loud or speaking out of turn, being obedient, etc.)

Her relationship with Andrealphus would have been strained, as he would have been the “golden child” while Stella would be the scapegoat. I’d also like to give Stella magic fire powers. Because honestly why does Andre get Ice Magic and Stolas get space magic and Stella is the same type of demon as them apparently and gets nothing??? Boring.

Maybe this is basic, but honestly I love characters with fire powers who have to learn to control them. As child, Stella would have difficulty controlling her fire abilities, and would be not be taught how to use or maintain her powers, but would be taught to suppress them.

As an aside—again, I’m not giving Stella a traumatic childhood to make her more likable and more pitiable. I have two reasons I’m giving her this backstory—1) I believe that even people with great parents still end up with some childhood trauma, because being alive and growing up *is* traumatic. And 2) I think that there’s a lot of pretty good evidence that ROYAL upbringings, and the expectations and restrictions that come with them, are especially traumatic in a very particular and very intense way.

Doesn’t mean that they’re not extremely privileged, but that privilege also doesn’t take away that trauma.

I think it’s very realistic for both Stella AND Stolas, as children of royalty and nobility, to have a lot of childhood trauma surrounding their upbringings, and that’s something I really want to explore in my rewrite—how they cope with their traumas and how it impacts their relationship and their ability to raise their daughter and navigate conflict.

By an older teen to young adult, she would have learned how to behave as a “perfect noblewoman”. This is when she would meet Stolas for the first time (with a a Chaperone of course).

There would be a little bit of time shortly before and after their marriage where they would have their “honeymoon” period—both Stella and Stolas were very infatuated with each other and mistook that infatuation for “true love”.

This time where they were extremely infatuated with each other would last about a year, after which they would slowly begin to realize that the idealized images they had of one another was false. They would start to argue more, have a harder time compromising etc. until they finally realized they fell out of love, and maybe were never in love in the first place.

Even though the two of them would have come to this realization, it would be separately, and due to their upbringings (where you don’t really talk about your feelings and push them down) they would NOT talk to each other about it.

This would be the first big crack in their relationship, and they would both have a lot of guilt over it.

I like the idea of the two of them really, really want to stay in love with each other, but after they get to TRULY know each other they just…never fully “click”. They realize they don’t have the same interests, they can’t really find anything to talk about, and they just. They don’t stay in love.

Stella would be very in denial about her true feelings after this turning point, and would still try to convince herself that she really loves Stolas. She would have a lot of deeply buried guilt over not loving him, and see it as a failure of her “duties” as his wife.

After this, they would find a way to keep their relationship would be cordial and respectful, but it would always tinged by an unspoken awkwardness. It would be almost business-like in nature, and they would start spending more and more time apart.

To cope with this lackluster relationship that they were both now stuck in, Stolas would throw himself fully into his duties (which I would want to show a little more of…seriously what does…what does he do??? What does he use the grimoire for????) and Stella would do the same—throwing herself into her duties as the lady of the house and a Goetia Princess.

Stella would host parties and balls, she’d make sure manor was always clean and orderly, she’d become a patron of the arts.

The basis of their relationship would become one of them sticking to the roles that were thrust upon them since birth.

Things WOULD change for the better though after Octavia’s birth.

Because for a while, Stolas and Stella would have something, someone, that brought them together, that they both loved and cared for dearly.

Something that Stella and Stolas would have spoken about before having Octavia is that they did NOT, under any circumstance, want to raise Via like they were raised.

As I already went over, both Stella and Stolas would have dealt with abuse and neglect growing up—Stolas’ abuse stems from his parents being LARGELY absent in his life and him being very neglected as a child, while Stella’s stems from her parents being extremely controlling and giving her very little, if any, freedom.

They would firmly agree on letting Via be her own person, on making time for her, on not putting too many expectations on her.

And, in this rewrite, I would not have them be abusive or neglectful parents. But I would have them be very flawed parents, whose own traumatic upbringings negatively affect their ability to raise Via.

I would want to explore Stella and Stolas fighting to break the cycle of abuse they went through, but still struggling because they don’t have a good frame of reference for what being a good parent looks like.

Stolas doesn’t realize that he’s not always giving Octavia all the time with him she needs, because in his eyes he’s spending tons of time with her—it doesn’t occur to him that he’s actually being neglectful towards her, because to him, spending any long amount of time with her is more than he ever got from his father. He’ll spend time with her, and talk to her, but not really LISTEN to what she’s saying she needs, and doesn’t understand why she doesn’t like the things she used to, or is mad at him for not taking more time for her.

Stella doesn’t realize she’s still being controlling or pushing her expectations onto Octavia by making passive aggressive comments suggesting she wear more “appropriate” or “feminine” clothing, or take up a “nicer” hobby like needlepoint and drop taxidermy. She gives Via the freedom to choose what she wants to do, but doesn’t fully SUPPORT those choices, and doesn’t understand why that’s so important, since in the end Octavia is still enjoying freedoms that Stella only dreamed of as a child.

Still, they manage to be a fairly functional and loving family towards Octavia. And Stolas and Stella maintain their cordial and business like relationship for Octavia’s sake, and to keep up appearances.

During Octavia’s teen years, when she’s 14-17, is when more cracks begin to show—Stella and Stolas have been keeping their relationship together, but it’s stagnating more and more. Stolas throws himself even more into his duties with the stars (or whatever) and Stella begins to become gradually more and more concerned and anxious about making sure her family maintains a “perfect” reputation among the other royals of hell.

Stella begins to throw more balls and parties for Hell’s charities (if this version of hell has banks, and police and prisons, they can have charitable organizations, okay.) As her and Stolas’s anniversary starts to get closer, she begins planning a HUGE ball for Hell’s nobility to celebrate. It’s hugely important to her.

While she’s doing all of this, Stolas is beginning to have an early-to-mid-life crisis. His work and duties that used to be engaging and fun are feeling more and more like a chore, his relationship with Stella has stagnated and is purely for show, he’s getting more and more anxious about Octavia approaching adulthood, and his whole life is beginning to feel more and more claustrophobic.

So. Stolas decides to do something wild, spontaneous, and very selfish, before he loses it. On a night where Stella is attending an Opera, and Via is spending the night with friends from school*, Stolas dresses in clothes he assumes “the common folk” would wear, and goes to shady bar in IMP city, with the goal of meeting someone to hook up with.

This is where Stolas meets Blitzø. (Sorry, I’m. I’m not doing the whole “paid childhood friends for one day” background.)

They have what both assume will be a one night stand at Blitzø’s place. It goes. MUCH better than either of them would have expected sex-wise. The two start meeting up more and more when they’re able to. Stolas begins to open up more to Blitzø, but it stays VERY sexual—eventually Stolas comes clean about who he is and they start to hook up at Stolas’ place whenever Stella is out. Stolas is very much infatuated with Blitzø (and the sex they have). Blitzø thinks they’re having non-complicated fun.

During AAALLL of this is when Blitzø learns about the Grimoire, and asks if he can “borrow” it for I.M.P. Stolas is impressed with Blitzø’s confidence and drive, and agrees to let Blitzø use it anytime, with the one exception being the night of the full moon. There is no full moon “deal” beyond the agreement that Blitzø cannot accept clients on the full moon because Stolas needs the book back that night.

During all of this is ALSO when Stella begins to notice Stolas acting differently, he’s slightly more energetic, he’s spending less and less time in his study and the manor in general, he doesn’t look her in the eyes when they do have time to chat briefly. It’s odd, and she’s suspicious of SOMETHING going on but she’s not sure what.

Stolas DOES feel guilty about cheating on Stella, but justifies it by telling himself that they’re not in a “true” marriage, and it’s “just sex”, so he’s not really cheating on Stella.

The night of Stella and Stolas’s anniversary ball arrives. To Stella, everything goes as expected, and it’s a huge success.

During the ball, though, we get the same scene we get in the Circus—Blitzø gets caught trying to sneak into Stolas’ room. Instead of the guards bringing him into the party, they call Stolas outside privately to deal with it (because why would the disrupt the party by dragging a party-crasher through the middle of a fancy ball?? I didn’t really understand why they did that in the og episode)

Stolas dismisses the guards, and we learn that Blitzø has been sneaking in (with Stolas’ permission+ knowledge) to get the grimoire after the full moon when he and Stolas don’t have time to meet up in person. Like tonight.

Instead of just handing off the grimoire like usual, Stolas and Blitzø end up hooking up (mutually and wholly consensually). Stolas does not return to the party.

Stella is really concerned about how Stolas’ absence looks, especially at a ball she planned with so many high profile demon lords present, but she’s able to wave it off as Stolas feeling a little tired and retiring early, due to it being the day after his full moon duties and all.

Instead of returning to their room, that night, Stella sleeps in one of the many guest rooms. She doesn’t know where Stolas is, but she’s mad at him for leaving early without saying anything on such an important night, and is hoping not coming to their bed will send a message—she’s tired anyway and doesn’t want to get in a big fight before bed that will tire her out more.

The next morning she has tea in the garden with some close friends. And this is where we get the infamous “Sorry, I fucked your husband!” scene.

After this, well. Stella kinda loses her shit. She had been pushing down all of her negative feelings and thoughts and frustrations surrounding her life and relationship for YEARS, because in her mind, as long as she was able to maintain the facade of having a “perfect” life, it would be worth it.

And now in a moment she’s lost the thing that, after her daughter, mattered to her the most.

She essentially explodes in fury in a way Stolas has never seen before—they get in a huge argument—Stella’s fire powers come out and burn down the manor’s garden, things just really get out of hand.

So. What would follow would be most of what we see of Stella in season 1 of HB—now that that floodgate has been opened, she finds she’s struggling to control her feelings, she’s mad and sad ALL THE TIME, and she’s deeply deeply hurt in a way she didn’t know she could be.

She can’t show her face in society, she doesn’t know WHAT to say to Octavia, she can’t believe Stolas could be SO SELFISH after EVERYTHING she had done to make sure their family was in high standing—and she can’t push down her feelings anymore. She’s never been so furious in her entire life.

And so she contacts a hitman, Striker.

I really like the old fan theory that Stella hired Striker in a moment of irrationality and anger because of how hurt she was—obviously her hurt does not justify trying to have her husband MURDERED, but I like the idea that she called the hit because she was deeply hurt and unable to cope with those feelings—not because she just hates him to the core of his being and has for their entire marriage. Her anger would be a coping mechanism, if she’s so busy feeling furious she doesn’t have to actually sit with her feelings of betrayal and sadness and hurt.

From here, the rest of season one would play out like in canon, we don’t see Stella in person again, just the apparition of her in Ozzie’s.

I’m going to stop here because this post is already way too long, it it’ll help me to think more if I split it up.

If you read this far please tell me what you think! I think I’d like overall for Stella and Stolas’ relationship to mirror Blitzø and Verosika’s, or maybe become a foil to it. From here we could honestly go either way—either Stella becomes a true villain, or she becomes an antagonist turned hesitant ally like Fizz, Ozzie, and Verosika.

I can see both being interesting, so maybe I’ll do a rewrite for both. We’ll see I guess.

*it weirds me the FUCK out that we don’t know anything about what Hell’s kids do, like I assume schools exist but ???anyway in this rewrite Stella and Stolas send Octavia to a fancy private school—cause the thought of her having NO friends or social circle makes me so sad)

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Foxglove Downs Chapter 2: The Rescue

Pairing:Marcus Acacius x Lucius Verus x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Both men pull you in closer. While working with Marcus to rehab one of his horses, you both try to ignore the unspoken feelings between the two of you. Then there’s Lucius, surprising you with his newfound tenderness—rescuing you from a drunken mistake, offering his bed, and showing a side of himself you never expected. Warnings: Love triangle, horse talk, jealousy, pining, alcohol, flirting, smut (unprotected p in v), age gap (Marcus is in his 40’s, Lucius is in his 20’s). Reader is in her 30's, has hair, and has a nickname: Sunny. Words: 4,600

Foxglove Downs Masterlist Masterlist

Previous Chapter

—-

You’ve taken the same early morning walk down to Foxglove Downs every day for the past three years. You enter the stables greeting each one of your horses, stroking their soft muzzles and whispering affection into their ears. This is your favorite part of the day, feeding and caring for your horses as the world wakes up. The routine is always therapeutic; you love the quiet companionship of your horses. 

It’s midmorning by the time you finish and step outside, stretching your arms above your head and breathing in the fresh air.

A sleek yet unassuming black car pulls up the long driveway before parking next to where you stand. The driver’s side door opens, Marcus steps out, his body silhouetted against the morning light. You swallow as your heart skips a beat.

He looks every inch the seasoned horseman, his broad body clad in a dark green sweater and tan pants making his skin more golden.

“Good morning,” he calls out.

You smile, walking towards him. “Morning. Pretty early for Daisy’s appointment, aren’t you?”

“Wanted to get a session in with Barley this morning. Rome’s only a couple weeks away.” He stops in front of you, his brown eyes looking into yours. The air between you is warm, his broad body shields you from the cool breeze and the bright sun.

“How are you feeling about it?” you ask a little breathless from his proximity. 

The dimple you dream to touch, deepens as Marcus grins and nods. “We’re ready. Barley has been in great shape and jumping beautifully,” he responds proudly, his confidence and proficiency on full display.

“Good to hear,” you reply. "Can’t believe Barley was my first project and now he’s a world champion. It must feel amazing for you, I’m just the breeder and I’m proud.”

“It does, but you helped too, you’re the one who shaped him,” he says, his voice steady and warm. Like he’s carefully choosing each word he says to you. “You should feel very proud.”

“We’ll just call it a team effort,” you reply, waving your hand dismissively as you feel heat creep into your cheeks at his compliment. “Much like Daisy’s rehab.”

“Yes,” he says, his eyes sparkling. “Much like her rehab.”

He’s gorgeous, lit by the morning light shining around him, his skin glows an almost ethereal gold. His deep brown eyes are flecked with bronze, holding a world of emotions and intensity. The silver streaked waves of his hair are gently tousled by the breeze.

The silence settles between you, birds chirp in the distance, horse hooves echo across the pasture as stablehands exercise a few mares. 

You clear your throat feeling the heat of his eyes on you. “I should probably get some calls done,” you say, glancing down at your watch. “Meet you at the first practice ground at 2?”

“It’s a date,” he winks.

You can feel your heart beating against your chest as you turn and walk towards the clubhouse, feeling Marcus watch you the whole time.

—-

Every task seems impossible to accomplish as you wait for the minutes to tick by.

All you can think about are the countless moments you and Marcus have shared over the years. You had first met him when you were nineteen and he was thirty. He showed up after months of speculation he was moving to your town to train under the guidance of your father.

You remember the first time you saw him ride, his tall, thick frame moving in perfect harmony with his horse. He seemed to communicate with it at a level that went beyond mere training. You were in awe of him and his skills, mainly from afar, always far too intimidated by his presence.

As you got older, and were given more responsibilities, your paths crossed more and more frequently. Horse shows, auctions, events, charity galas, you found yourselves drawn to each other. You challenged each other, striving for excellence in all that the two of you did.

There were moments, long glances and lingering touches. Attraction sparking, hinting at a possibility of the two of you becoming something more… but always, one of you would pull back. Unwilling to risk the friendship and partnership that had become so integral to your lives and careers. 

Now, as you look out the window of the clubhouse and watch Marcus round the track on Barley, you think of the almost-kiss yesterday. The way your heart raced at how close he was, the wonder of what would happen if you didn’t step away… would you finally learn just how soft his lips are? You remind yourself that being cautious is better, crossing that line could ruin everything you had worked so hard to build upon the legacy of your parent’s.

—-

After what feels like an eternity, 2 PM finally arrives and you excitedly head towards the stables. You do your best to hide your anticipation for spending time with Marcus as you open Daisy's stall door and let her out.

“Hi girl,” you sweetly whisper as she happily whinnies and tosses her head.

Sensing eyes on you, you turn and see Marcus grinning as he leans against the entryway.

"What?" you ask, self-conscious under his gaze.

He shakes his head, his smile widening. "Nothing. Just admiring your way with her."

You duck your head, trying to hide your bashful smile from the compliment. "She’s a sweet girl.”

“Sweet, but sometimes stubborn.”

“Well, let’s hope she doesn’t mind everything we’re doing today,” you respond, applying Daisy’s halter and grabbing her lead. “Should we get started?”

Marcus nods. “Lead the way.”

You softly click your tongue, guiding Daisy along the path towards the practice ground, feeling Marcus’s eyes on you the whole walk.

—-

An hour of training and care passes by, Daisy responds enthusiastically to you, Marcus, and most of all, your handfuls of hay pellets. Marcus intently listens to your plans for her, nodding thoughtfully as you suggest adjustments to her training regimen.

He seems to be keeping a bit more distance than usual, as if he can't trust himself to be near you and he's also thinking about what might have happened if you hadn't stepped back yesterday.

Daisy gently lays her head on your shoulder as you coo into her hair letting her know she did a good job.

Marcus watches, his expression unreadable as you lead her back into the stable.

“Can’t thank you enough for lending your time to us,” Marcus says, his low voice soft.

“Of course, anything I can do to help,” you reply, warmth spreading through you at his sincerity. “Daisy deserves the best.”

“She does. So—uh,” he clears his throat. “Do you have plans tonight?”

Your heart stutters. “I.. I do. It’s my friend’s birthday party in the city later…”

He raises an eyebrow, a flicker of disappointment crosses his features. “Oh? I didn’t know you had plans.”

“Yeah, they keep trying to get me to go out,” you say quickly, trying to deflect the weight of his gaze.

“Sounds fun.” He shifts his weight and looks away for a moment, as if he’s trying to gather his thoughts. “I should… probably head out, I’ve been here almost all day.”

“Right,” you nod. “Have a good night.”

“Thanks. Though it seems like your night will be more eventful,” he responds with a soft smile before turning to leave.

As you watch him walk away, your heart sinks a bit more with each step he takes. It's becoming increasingly difficult to maintain the boundaries you've put in place.

—-

Your friends had been relentless in their efforts to finally pry you from the gated sanctuary of Foxglove Downs, and tonight's the night you finally acquiesced. If only they had known how long it’s been since you let loose and danced under flashing lights, feeling the rhythm thumping against your chest.

The club lights dance across your body, the liquor loosens your limbs and inhibitions. The cute guy who has been buying you drinks all night—Charlie? Chance? Chaplin?—runs his hand up your stomach, right below your breasts.

Chaplin's touch sends a shiver down your spine, but it's more unease than excitement. His fingers press into your skin as he pulls you closer, grinding against you to the beat. The room spins around you as blinking neon lights and undulating bodies flash around you.

Through the haze of alcohol and lights, you spot someone familiar across the dance floor—Lucius. His blue eyes lock with yours, widening with concern as he takes in the scene. He weaves through the crowd towards you, never breaking his eye contact.

"Mind if I cut in?" Lucius's voice carves through the music as he places a hand on Chaplin's shoulder.

"Actually, we were just—" Chaplin starts to protest, but Lucius cuts him off.

"I wasn't asking." Lucius's tone is direct, his stare unwavering. After a moment, Chaplin reluctantly releases you, disappearing back into the pulsing mass of dancers with a resentful glare.

Lucius's strong hands find your waist, steadying you as the room continues to tilt. He pulls you close, his body solid against yours.

"Are you okay?” his voice laces with concern as he looks you up and down before pulling you closer.

You let out a laugh, too drunk and overwhelmed to respond.

“I already talked to your friends. Let's get you out of here," he breathes against your ear. He wraps a protective arm around your waist, guiding you off the dance floor towards the exit. You trip over your feet, trying to keep up with him.

“Oh my god! Lucius!” a girl clad in the tightest and shortest pink dress you’ve ever seen fawns as she crowds the two of you. “So nice to see you babe, leaving so soo—”

“Sorry love,” he interrupts. “I’m busy.”

Lucius leads you towards the door, before pivoting to face you, his bright eyes under dark brows furrowed in a serious expression look you over.

"You okay?" he asks softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.

You offer a smile, loose and hazy under your inebriation, your body swaying as you try to stay upright.

“Come here.” He bends down and scoops you up into his arms and holds you close to his chest. Your head spins, your arms instinctively wrap around his neck.

He carries you through the crowded club. You try to drown out the loud music, focusing instead on the beat of his heart against your ear.

The cool night air hits your hot skin as Lucius steps outside, holding you tighter against his chest as you shiver in his arms.

The driver pulls up and opens the car door, allowing Lucius to duck inside, easily maneuvering the both of you into the backseat, holding onto you tightly against his chest. You tuck your head under his chin as he settles into the plush seat.

You feel breathless as he grins towards you. "Come on, let's get you home."

The city lights blur across his handsome face as the two of you sit in silence. The comfort of Lucius and the car’s motion lulls you into a drowsy state. Your eyes flutter open and closed, catching glimpses of tall skyscrapers turning into tree-lined roads, farm fields, and large estates.

"We're here," Lucius whispers softly, waking you from your half-sleep. You blink your eyes open, his blue eyes warm in the dim light of the car. He scoops you closer against him, carrying you up the steps of his large manor.

He carries you as he makes his way through the luxury of his home, up the grand staircase and into his bedroom.

"Let's get you more comfortable," Lucius says, setting you down gently on his large four-poster bed with soft green sheets.

“Thank you,” you whisper, overwhelmed by the way his blue eyes look at you with care.

He nods and smiles before walking to his closet and pulling out a soft cotton shirt. "Here," he offers, "This should work."

You nod, standing on wobbly feet, fumbling with the ties of your dress. Lucius swallows, his eyes watching as you slip open the top before he turns his back, giving you privacy as you change. The smell of him engulfs you when you put his shirt on.

“Done,” you whisper, sobering lightly from your shyness.

He turns, his eyes flickering with an unfamiliar emotion as he takes in the sight of you wearing his shirt. He helps you get into his bed, pulling back the covers for you. His mattress is soft, your exhaustion quickly catches up to you.

"Good?” he asks, tucking the blankets around you.

“Yes,” you breathe out, your eyes staring into his eyes. His fingers brush your forehead, pushing back a strand of hair.

"Get some rest. I'll be in the room next door if you need anything."

“Thank you,” you whisper.

"Always, Sunny.” He leans in, gently pressing his lips against your forehead.

The last thing you hear before falling asleep is the soft click of the door as he leaves.

—-

The lakeside is lit by bright moonlight. A raucous party echoes in the distance. You’re standing all alone far from the crowd of the party you don’t remember attending, watching the surreal swirls of the water lap at the shore.

“My Lady. Why’d you do that?” a low, growling voice rumbles behind you.

You turn to find a formidable presence under a black hood, a handsome face hidden behind shadows.

“Marcus? What did I do?”

He removes his hood, his features set in disappointment.

“Going to a club, getting too drunk, needing someone to rescue you? Why did you put yourself in that danger?”

He’s so angry.

“Because I wanted to get drunk and have meaningless sex,” you admit, surprising yourself at your bold words.

He takes a step forward. “Meaningless? With whom?”

“With anyone…” you clarify. “With you… I wanted to pretend they were… you”

He steps closer, his heat sending a shiver down your spine. “You think I’d just stand by while someone else gets to… pretend with you?” he asks, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

You swallow hard. He’s close—so close that his warmth envelops you. You glance up at him, his gaze is intense and scrutinizing. His jaw sits tight with barely restrained desire.

“Marcus,” your voice shakes.

“Sunny,” he breathes against your ear. “Is that what you want? To pretend? Or do you want it to be real?”

“Real,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

The space between you dissolves.

“Then make it real,” he whispers against your lips, his hands finding your waist, fingers splaying wide as he pulls you possessively against his large body.

His lips crash against yours in a searing kiss, it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of. Finally, you taste him, warmth and intensity flooding your senses as you wrap your fingers around the waves of his hair. He responds, his lips pressing harder against yours, his hands roaming down your back, a trail of heat left wherever he touches.

The world around you blurs into a soft haze, distant music and merriment is replaced by a soft hum.

“Sunny,” he says between kisses, “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

His hands slide down to your thighs, lifting you into his hold, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. You bury your face in his neck, your hands grip his cloak as his cock pokes against your entrance, your body shivering in his hold though you have all of his heat radiating against you.

“Tell me you want this,” he groans against your skin.

“I want this, Marcus,” you moan, your whole body aching to feel him. “I want you.”

He growls an approving noise as he shifts you in his grip, moving your both toward the edge of the lake, lowering you gently onto the grass.

His large hands find the delicate laces of your dress, tugging each one open, his fingers brushing against your skin as he works meticulously to undress you.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs softly, the moonlight lighting his eyes golden as they rake over your body.

He sheds his cloak, your breath catches in your throat as his naked body is revealed to you. You’ve waited so long to see him like this and he’s just as perfect as you imagined. He’s big, so damn big and formidable. Broad, yet toned. Soft, yet powerful. Strong arms, defined chest, and thick thighs.

You gasp as his hands travel up your thighs, his calloused fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Spread for me beautiful.”

You obey, exposing your wet cunt to him.

“Oh Sunny,” he groans. “You’re so wet for me.”

His thumb slides through your folds, circling your clit as his other hand grips his cock, stroking himself as he moves closer to where you need him the most.

“Marcus,” you moan, his name catching in your throat as he presses the tip of his cock against your entrance.

“I want to make this real with you,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. “I want to claim you as mine.”

“Please,” you plead, your voice trembling.

He captures your lips again, his hands positioning themselves on either side of you, shielding you from the outside world.

He pushes into you with a singular thrust, sheathing himself in your heat. You gasp as he fills you.

“Sunny,” he groans against your mouth, his brows furrowing with effort as he stares into your eyes.

Your hips move to meet his as the world disappears, only leaving Marcus Acacius and the way he feels inside you.

“Look at me,” he commands softly. Your eyes meet his, all the warmth and longing you’ve wished for now revealed to you in his dark brown eyes.

He groans over a long, drawn-out hum as he draws out each thrust into you. He shifts, his cock pressing into the place you need to feel him the most.

You cry out, your moans echoing across the lake. You don’t care who hears you. He kisses your lips between grunts, the hum getting louder, now an insistent vibration as warmth floods through your skin.

You’re hot, Marcus’s body presses against you like a warm blanket. The hum grows even louder, you shift slightly, trying to focus on the heat and weight of Marcus’s body against yours, his cock pulling out an orgasm, you open your mouth to shout his name—until—you awaken.

Your heart races as you blink against the sunlight filtering through the curtains of the unfamiliar room. Then, you remember the events of last night. You’re in Lucius’s bed. The bed he left you alone in last night—the bed you just had a wet dream about his biggest rival in. You push the weight of his comforter off of your body, drenched in sweat, your thighs pushed together soaked in sweat and your orgasm.

“Fuck,” you mutter to yourself. Gratitude for the comfortable bed and safe space whirls with embarrassment in your head, already aching from a hangover. You pick up your phone, turning off your alarm.

A glass of water and two aspirin are laid on the bedside table along with a pair of shorts. You guzzle down the water and take the pills before getting out of bed.

Last night you were far too drunk to admire the surprising comfort of Lucius’s room. It doesn’t look like the flashy womanizer bedroom you’d expect him to have. No, this room is more refined and well-put together… understated and luxurious. Deep mahogany paneled walls adorned with paintings of equestrian scenes. A large dresser holds a couple trophies, a framed photo of him and his parents along with a small frame of him as a child and a smiling border collie. A large window frames the picturesque view of the sprawling garden outside. Next to it, a single chair and a table holding a stack of books. The book on top catches your eye: The Tao of Equus. You smile to yourself, surprised by his choice of reading material.

You pad across the plush rug and put on the shorts Lucius left you. Ah, a pair of Lucius Verus’s famous running shorts. Short as heck and much looser around your thighs than his.

Opening the bedroom door, you peek out, hearing Lucius’s voice float up from downstairs.

You shyly head down the sweeping staircase, squinting your eyes as you walk into his large, sun-drenched kitchen.

Lucius is there, leaning against a marble countertop, chatting with a man. They both turn as you enter, Lucius's face breaking into a wide smile.

"Good morning," he says. "How’d you sleep?”

“Good,” you softly respond. “Thank you.” “I hope you're hungry.” Lucius says as he pours you a cup of tea. “I don’t know what you like for breakfast, but I had Eugene make quite a spread.”

You settle onto a stool at the kitchen island, watching as Eugene sets a large plate filled with delicious looking food in front of you.

"You didn't have to go to all this trouble,” you say, feeling a bit guilty seeing as only a few minutes ago you were grinding and sweating against his sheets dreaming of Marcus.

Lucius waves away your protests, sliding onto the stool next to you. "Nonsense, it's nice to have company for a change. Usually, it's just me and Eugene here in the mornings."

“What about your hookups?” you tease, taking a sip of your tea.

“Hmm,” he hums, leaning back, his blue eyes twinkling. “I don’t make a habit of letting them spend the night, especially in my bed.”

Your cheeks heat as you gently clear your throat. “Thanks… again for everything last night. I don’t tend to get like… that… I just wanted to have a night out.”

Lucius's expression softens as he watches you shyly pick at your food. "No need to explain. We all need to let loose sometimes… next time just call me. I’ll show you a good time,” he winks.

“You never stop,” you say, gently bumping your shoulder into his.

“Not when it comes to you,” he says, barely above a whisper.

Gone is the polished playboy from the club scene. Here, in his home, he's casual—and comfortable.

—

“I should get out of your hair,” you say, pushing your empty plate away. “I can order myself a cab," you offer.

“No you absolutely will not, I have to head to the grounds to train after breakfast, I’ll drop you off at the house.”

“If you insist.” “I do,” he says. “You can even pick the music, I never let anybody choose the music.”

You giggle as you finish your tea. “I’ll just head upstairs and change back into my dress.”

"Ah, well, I did enjoy you in those shorts, but I won’t say no to seeing you in that dress again,” he says with a wink.

You rise from the stool and make your way through Lucius’s beautiful home, sun spills in through tall windows, plants of all different types sit in beautiful ceramic pots, modern furniture is placed amongst priceless antiques, shelves filled with books line a wall. This is a whole new side to Lucius, domestic and quiet, not brash and womanizing.

Back in his room, you slip back into your dress, gently folding and placing the clothes he lended you back onto his bed… the same bed that you dreamed of Marcus in.

With a deep breath, you open the door and make your way back downstairs. Lucius stops in his tracks when he sees you, his blue eyes widening as they roam your body.

“I forgot how good you look in that,” he says.

“Oh stop,” you roll your eyes, putting your heels back on.

“Are you ready to go? It's pretty chilly outside. Here, take my jacket. You'll look much better in it than I do, anyway.” He reaches for his light blue denim jacket and holds it out for you to put on. The faint scent of his cologne is back, cedar and citrus, it makes you smile, the smell of youth and strength.

He makes you feel at ease, even when your mind continues to race with thoughts of Marcus.

He looks you up and down, a slight smirk lifting his lips, his eyes lit with adoration. “Much better. Let’s get you home.”

Lucius opens the door for you, leading you to a large terrace, bundles of jasmine and peonies overflow out of large pots border the stairs down to a large fountain where birds chirp and happily bathe themselves.

“Oh my god, Lucius, it’s gorgeous here.”

“My mom was a gardener, I guess I got her green thumb,” he shrugs as he places his hand against your back leading you down the steps to a sleek green Porsche and opens the passenger door for you. The leather is soft against your skin as you slide in.

He gets in, sending you a wink as the engine roars to life.

“Nice car,” you say, rubbing your hand across the smooth interior.

“She’s my pride and joy,” he says, pulling out onto the winding road towards Foxglove Downs. “Always wanted one.”

“I’m sure you get all the girls in this thing, right?” you joke.

“Wouldn’t know, I just don’t let anyone in here.”

You swallow at the implication of his words again.

The short drive to the stables is quiet, save for Lucius softly humming along to the songs on the car stereo. Your mind is anything but quiet though… the way Lucius looks at you—like you’re the only one that matters in the moment—the way he saved you last night, acting with nothing but respect for you. The way he cared for you this morning, the gentle ways he took care of you… and yet, you still think of Marcus—and the dream you had.

“Do you have any plans today?” Lucius asks, interrupting your reverie.

“Not really, that’s why I was out last night,” you respond with a nervous chuckle.

“I’m glad I was there for you Sunny.”

“I am too.”

—-

As the car comes to a stop in your driveway, Lucius jumps out and rushes to open your door before you have a chance to do it yourself.

You step out, feeling how impossibly close he is to you, his lips parted as his eyes lit by the late morning sun gaze into yours. You sigh as he leans in to kiss you. But, instead of meeting your lips, you turn your head, he leaves a gentle kiss against your cheek.

As he pulls away, his eyes search yours.

"I should get going," Lucius says softly, his breath warm against your cheek. “Already running late.”

“Thank you again… for everything,” you say before he turns and gets back into his car.

“Of course Sunny,” Lucius smiles, giving you one last lingering look before he pulls away, heading down the path towards the stables.

You find yourself looking over the edge of the hill down towards the stables. Your eyes scan the grounds suddenly stopping onto Marcus standing in the gravel parking lot below. He’s paused, his bag gripped in his hand as he stares right back up at you. Even from here, you can see the intensity in his eyes, the confusion over why you’re in such a short dress in the middle of the morning wearing Lucius’s jacket. You wonder what exactly he saw.

—-

Thank you for reading! Tagging those who asked and some friends! Let me know if you'd like to be removed.

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