#at one point he said ‘you look like you’re single????????’ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

creamflix · 1 day ago

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

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

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

read on ao3!

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

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

toji hated it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

damn it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

another pause. then: “what for?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you hated it.

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

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

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

not like you needed her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you blinked. “uh, what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you’d learned that the hard way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

toji couldn’t argue with that.

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

you weren’t having it anymore.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“maybe not,” toji said, crossing his arms, “but if you’re gonna start a scene in front of your kid, might as well make it entertaining for the rest of us.”

you bit back a laugh, your shoulders relaxing for the first time since you’d walked into the room. your ex muttered something incoherent before storming back to his seat, clearly deciding he’d rather sulk than argue with toji.

“thanks,” you said quietly, glancing at him.

“don’t mention it,” he replied, waving a hand. “besides, i could use the distraction. these meetings are the worst.”

megumi sighed dramatically, dragging his dad toward the nearest empty seats. your daughter tugged on your hand, pulling you toward her spot. “sit next to me, mommy!” she insisted, her voice brimming with excitement.

and just like that, the weight of embarrassment lifted. maybe the pta wasn’t so dreadful after all.

stationery shopping ranked high on toji’s list of things he’d rather not do. it wasn’t just the hassle of navigating cramped aisles and overly enthusiastic sales clerks — it was the quiet longing he saw in megumi’s eyes. his kid had always been practical, never asking for much. a pencil and eraser were all he ever said he needed.

but toji wasn’t blind. he noticed the way megumi’s gaze lingered on superhero-themed pouches, colorful erasers, or fancy gel pens that clicked in three different colors.

today, however, megumi wasn’t eyeing superheroes. he stood rooted in front of the store’s most ridiculously pink setup — hello kitty galore. pink pouches, glittery pens, stickers with cartoon bows and sparkles. “what’re ya staring at, brat?” toji grumbled, leaning against the cart.

“nothing,” megumi mumbled, looking down at his sneakers.

toji raised a brow. “yeah, sure. ‘nothing’ has you glued there like a statue.”

“it’s for...her,” megumi muttered, barely loud enough to hear.

“her?” for a second, toji wondered if his kid had cooked up another imaginary friend. but then it clicked. “her” wasn’t imaginary — it was your daughter. ever since she had dragged megumi into practicing her ballet routine in the hallway, she’d been on his radar. toji had caught him talking about her in passing, dropping little comments about her sparkly shoes or how good she was at balancing on her toes.

toji scratched the back of his head, sighing. “alright, pick something out.”

megumi’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. “really?”

“yeah, really. just don’t make me regret it.”

a few minutes later, toji was standing in line with a glittery-pen set, the kind of thing he never thought he’d buy in his lifetime. at checkout, he stared at the receipt longer than necessary, grumbling about how overpriced stationery had gotten. still, he couldn’t shake the thought of megumi’s sheepish little smile when he picked out the pen set.

later that day, toji knocked on your door, the pen set in hand. when you opened it, he held the package out awkwardly. “here,” he said gruffly. “megs wanted to give this to your girl.”

you blinked in surprise, looking between him and the gift. “oh, uh, thank you. that’s sweet of him.”

“yeah, well, don’t make a big deal out of it,” he muttered, already turning to leave.

“wait.” you disappeared into the apartment for a moment before coming back with a box in hand. “give this to megumi. my daughter won it in a raffle at school and insisted it was for him.”

toji frowned, taking the box. when he opened it, his jaw nearly dropped. inside was a limited-edition action figure of megumi’s favorite superhero, still in its pristine packaging. “seriously?” he asked, glancing up at you.

you shrugged, smiling. “she said he deserves it for helping her with ballet.”

when toji handed the box to megumi later, the boy’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “this is for me?” he asked, his voice almost disbelieving.

“yep,” toji said, leaning against the doorframe, a smirk tugging at his lips. “from her.”

megumi cradled the box like it was made of glass, his face lighting up in a way toji hadn’t seen in a while. “she’s...cool,” he mumbled, his ears turning red.

toji snorted, ruffling his son’s hair. “yeah, kid. guess she is.”

it started with the clatter of plastic pots and pans echoing in the hallway. toji peeked out, ready to bark at whoever was making the ruckus, only to see your kid — a whirlwind in a frilly dress — dragging megumi out of the apartment by his wrist. toji frowned, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “what’s she up to now?” he muttered to himself.

your girl had plopped her miniature kitchen set right in the middle of the hallway, setting it up with an authority that would make a professional chef jealous. “okay, megumi,” she declared, hands on her hips. “we’re playing house-house.”

megumi shuffled awkwardly, glancing at the scattered pink cookware. “uh...i don’t know how to play,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

your daughter waved off his hesitation with a dramatic flourish. “it’s easy! you’re the dad, and i’m the mom, and we make dinner together.”

toji suppressed a snort. the dad, huh? poor kid.

but then megumi, shifting uncomfortably, mumbled, “what’s...a dad supposed to do?”

your daughter blinked at him, pausing her bustling activity. “you don’t know?”

he shook his head, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“well,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact, “my dad doesn’t play house-house much. but it’s okay! we’ll just figure it out.”

toji’s chest tightened at her words, his grip on the doorframe unconsciously tightening. he didn’t think a kid’s game could hit so close to home, but there it was. she said it so simply, so innocently, like it was a fact of life. and megumi just nodded, kneeling down next to her and fumbling with a tiny plastic frying pan, like he was trying to make sense of a concept he couldn’t quite grasp.

when he glanced across the hall, he saw you standing there. you weren’t smiling. the look in your eyes was a mirror of his own — quiet, pained recognition. you knew. how could you not? this was your life too, wasn’t it? this strange, fragmented version of what a “home” was supposed to be.

and for once, toji didn’t have a quip or a grumble. he just stood there, watching his kid try to figure out what “playing house” meant, wondering if maybe the real problem wasn’t the game at all.

there were days when the weight of work pressed so heavily on your shoulders, you didn’t know if you’d make it to bedtime without breaking. days when you stared at your laptop screen, the relentless deadlines pounding in your head, and wondered if anyone cared enough to ask how you were holding up.

your daughter? what could you even tell an eight-year-old? that mamma’s work feels like it’s swallowing her whole? your ex? let’s not kid anyone — he didn’t give a damn.

so when you heard the faint knock on your door, you sighed, ready to dismiss whatever delivery or inconvenience had shown up at your doorstep. but it wasn’t a courier. it was megumi, standing there awkwardly, holding a casserole dish that looked far too heavy for him.

“uh, hi,” he mumbled, not meeting your eyes. “my dad said you should eat this. and, um...are you okay?”

you blinked, caught completely off guard. “i — yeah, i’m fine. why are you —”

“dad said you looked ‘off.’” he shifted his weight, staring at the floor like the words were a script he was forced to read. “so he made food. and, uh...he said you should eat it. or something.”

you stared at the casserole, the steam fogging up the glass lid, before your gaze moved back to megumi. “your dad sent you?”

megumi nodded, still not looking up. “yeah. but also...uh, you shouldn’t be sad. ’cause my teacher says work is like a big test. and you can’t cry during tests.”

you let out a soft laugh despite yourself. “is that so?”

“yeah,” he said, more confidently now. “and also...you should have cookies after tests. or...or, like, cake. something sweet.”

you crouched down so you were eye level with him, your exhaustion momentarily forgotten. “thank you, megumi. you’re very thoughtful.”

he shrugged, his ears turning red. “it’s just what people do, right?”

“you’re absolutely right,” you said, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “tell your dad thank you for the food, okay?”

megumi nodded, suddenly eager to escape, and darted back toward his apartment. as you stood, watching him go, you caught a glimpse of toji leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed, pretending like he wasn’t paying attention. your eyes met, and he gave a half-smirk, a silent acknowledgment that, yeah, he sent his kid over to do the emotional heavy lifting.

you didn’t know whether to laugh or roll your eyes, but as you brought the casserole inside and inhaled the warm, comforting aroma, you realized it didn’t matter. the gesture had worked.

and for the first time that day, you felt a little less alone.

toji leaned against the garbage chute, the crumpled bag dangling from his grip like the weight of his entire day had been stuffed inside it. his head was pounding, his nerves frayed, and the sheer mental load of keeping everything together made his chest feel tight.

just one drink, he thought. one drink to take the edge off.

but the thought of megumi catching even a whiff of whiskey on his breath, of being the kind of dad who needed an escape like that, stopped him cold.

that’s when you showed up, bag in hand, hair disheveled from a long day. you gave him a quick glance, your usual mixture of mild irritation and casual acknowledgment, before tossing your garbage into the chute.

“you look like hell,” you said bluntly, folding your arms.

“gee, thanks,” toji shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. “needed that.”

you didn’t flinch. instead, you just leaned against the wall beside him, watching as he seemed to wrestle with something internally. you weren’t dumb — you could tell when someone was running on fumes.

“you ever feel like you’re drowning?” he asked suddenly, surprising even himself with the admission.

you blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. “constantly,” you replied, your tone softer than usual. “but i’m guessing you mean with the whole...single parent thing.”

toji chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “ding, ding. i don’t know how you do it. you make it look...effortless.”

“effortless?” you raised an eyebrow, almost laughing at the absurdity. “you think i have it together? newsflash, toji: my kid’s with me two days a week. that’s not parenting perfection. that’s a weekend babysitting gig.”

“still,” he muttered. “you make those two days count. i see it. i hear it.”

you exhaled, running a hand through your hair. “look, i don’t have all the answers. but what i’ve learned? you can’t do it all. not perfectly. no one can. and pretending you can is just setting yourself up to fail. so...cut yourself some slack. you’re not screwing up as bad as you think.”

he stared at you for a moment, the words sinking in like drops of water on parched earth. it wasn’t a grand revelation, but coming from you — iron mom of the year — it hit different.

“you really believe that?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

you shrugged. “not always. but it’s what i tell myself when i feel like i’m about to lose it. sometimes it helps. sometimes it doesn’t. but it’s better than drinking yourself stupid.”

toji’s eyes flicked to you, his brow furrowing. “how’d you —”

“please,” you cut him off. “you think i don’t know that look? seen it in the mirror too many times.”

he huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “you’re something else, you know that?”

“so are you,” you countered, nudging his arm lightly. “whether you believe it or not. and whether you’ll admit it or not.”

he didn’t respond, just stood there for a moment, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. and as you turned to head back to your apartment, he found himself standing a little taller, the crushing weight of the day feeling just a little lighter.he still wouldn’t call it respect. but maybe, just maybe, he didn’t hate you as much as he thought.

your ex’s text had felt like a sucker punch, the kind that knocked the wind right out of you. you’d stared at the message for far too long, rereading his smug little declaration: “taking her on a trip she’ll never forget. don’t worry about the details.”

no invite for you, no mention of her asking for you — just a cruel reminder that he still had ways to hurt you. and for her birthday, of all things.

you spent the next two weeks in a fog. the silence in your apartment was deafening without her, no shrieks of laughter, no tiny footsteps running to show you her latest masterpiece. it felt like someone had pressed pause on your life, leaving you stuck in this unbearable limbo. every day you’d get up, go to work, and come home to the same aching emptiness. you even avoided the hallway, unwilling to face anyone — not even toji and megumi.

but then, one evening, as you were sorting through yet another pile of takeout containers, you heard a soft knock on your door. when you opened it, there stood megumi, clutching a piece of paper in his small hands. he shoved it toward you without a word, his face unreadable, before bolting back down the hall.

you closed the door, confused, and unfolded the note. it was written in uneven, colorful crayon strokes, the kind only a kid could produce:

dear y/n, pls come to my bithday party. we having cake and maybe pizza dad said okay i want you to come :) from megumi

your breath caught in your throat, and before you knew it, hot tears were streaming down your face. it was the kind of pure, innocent gesture that knocked down every wall you’d tried to build over the past two weeks. megumi didn’t know the weight of what he’d just done — how he’d given you a reason to get out of bed, to care about something again.

you clutched the note to your chest, letting out a shaky laugh through your tears. for the first time in weeks, you felt a flicker of warmth. maybe you couldn’t be there for your own daughter’s birthday this year, but for megumi? you’d show up.

and maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t feel so alone.

toji swore he hadn’t stopped pacing since he woke up that morning.

megumi’s birthday.

the kid had been talking about it for weeks, dropping subtle (and not-so-subtle) hints about what he wanted. toji had done his best — got the decorations, ordered the cake, and even splurged on superhero-themed plates and napkins. but standing in the middle of his living room, now transformed into a battlefield of action figure balloons and capes, he couldn’t help but feel like a superhero himself — one on the verge of a breakdown.

megumi had insisted on handling the invites, which in hindsight might’ve been a mistake. the first arrivals were fine enough: yuuji and nobara, two of megumi’s classmates. yuuji was all boundless energy and chaos, while nobara strutted in like she was already running the place. “where’s the cake?” she demanded, hands on her hips. toji grunted and pointed toward the kitchen.

then came the wild card. the bane of his existence.

“tooojjjji!” gojo’s voice echoed through the apartment, loud and grating as ever. “heard there’s a party! didn’t wanna miss out.” he waltzed in, sunglasses perched on his stupidly perfect nose, a massive gift bag in hand that screamed overcompensating. toji pinched the bridge of his nose. why me?

and then, you. you stepped in, looking a little hesitant, holding a neatly wrapped present in one hand. megumi practically lit up when he saw you, rushing over to tug you inside. “you came!” he exclaimed, grinning ear to ear. toji froze for a moment, then scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“didn’t think you’d actually show,” he muttered, avoiding your eyes.

“megumi invited me,” you said simply, smiling down at the boy. “couldn’t say no to the birthday boy, now could i?”

toji grunted in response, but deep down, he was relieved. somehow, having you there made the chaos of the day feel a little more manageable.

the party was... chaotic, to say the least. yuuji inhaled pizza like it was a sport and promptly threw up in the kitchen sink, much to nobara’s disgust. “ewwwww, you’re so groooossss!” she shrieked, dodging as yuuji stumbled past her. toji was already on the phone with yuuji’s older brother, sukuna, who arrived not long after, looking pissed as hell.

“i told him not to eat like a damn vacuum,” sukuna growled, hauling yuuji out the door.

megumi, meanwhile, didn’t seem fazed by any of it. he was too busy showing off his new action figures to your daughter, who somehow managed to make it to the party just a few hours before her flight. you and toji exchanged a glance — a silent acknowledgment that, despite the chaos, the kids were happy.

and somehow, so were you.

with your daughter off on her dad's two-and-a-half-week escapade, you found yourself with something rare and unsettling: free time. the emptiness of your apartment felt heavier without her laughter filling the corners, so you did what any sane, lonely adult would do — you forced yourself to go out. and somehow, somehow, you ended up on a date with nanami kento.

god, he was perfect. the kind of perfect that made your chest ache. polite, well-mannered, and respectful, with a quiet intensity that felt... safe. he opened doors, listened like you were the only person in the world, and didn’t even bat an eye when you cried mid-dessert about how surreal it felt to be treated so kindly. nanami kento was a unicorn in human form. you left the date with a full heart and a nervous little hope tucked away in the corner of your mind.

but with that came distance. maybe you didn’t mean to pull back from the chaotic warmth of your hallway interactions with megumi and toji, but it happened all the same. when megumi called out a soft “hi” as you passed him by the mailboxes, you offered a quick smile but kept walking. the sink had been dripping for days, but instead of knocking on toji’s door, you’d booked a plumber. you weren’t doing anything wrong, you told yourself — they were just neighbors. neighbors.

not friends. not anything more than the people across the hall. right?

toji, though, noticed. the absence of your knock, the way megumi seemed a little more sullen, staring at the hall like he was waiting for someone. “you think she’s mad at us?” megumi asked one evening, poking at his rice.

toji’s response was a noncommittal grunt, but the truth was, he didn’t know. for some stupid reason, the distance stung. not that he’d ever admit it. not that he had any right to care.

you were just neighbors, after all.

when your girl came bounding through the door, her face glowing from the trip, the first thing she asked wasn’t about you or the gifts she’d brought back. no, it was, “how’s gumi? how’s uncle toji?”

the question hit harder than it should’ve. you realized with a pang of guilt how much distance you’d put between yourself and the fushiguros. brushing it off with a casual, “they’re fine,” didn’t sit well either. so, when your daughter insisted on running over to their apartment to see megumi, you didn’t stop her.

watching her skip down the hall, you thought it’d all smooth over naturally. kids were resilient like that, weren’t they? but then she came back. and she was crying.

between her sobs and hiccups, you managed to piece together the story. megumi, sweet, awkward megumi, had exploded in a torrent of childish frustration. how your daughter hadn’t been around. how you hadn’t been around. how he thought you both didn’t care anymore.

you felt your heart shatter as your girl bawled into your arms, her small hands clutching at your shirt. “why’s he mad at me, mama? i didn’t do anything!”

meanwhile, across the hall, megumi was in tears too, angrily wiping at his face as he sat cross-legged on the couch. “i hate her!” he shouted, voice wobbling. “she didn’t even say hi! she just left like everyone does!”

toji sat there, looking at his son, the beer he’d been nursing now warm and forgotten. the kid’s words were like a punch to the gut. he realized, with sinking clarity, that megumi wasn’t just upset with your daughter. the boy was lashing out because he felt abandoned.

when the knock came at the door, it was no surprise. you stood there, your girl clutching your hand, both of you looking just as frazzled as toji and megumi.

“we need to talk,” you said.

“yeah,” toji muttered, stepping aside to let you in.

the conversation wasn’t easy, with both kids sniffling, glaring at each other, and clutching onto their respective parents like lifelines. but as you and toji sat there, stumbling through apologies and promises to do better, you realized how much you’d hurt them by pulling away.

“friends don’t do this,” your girl said, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

“yeah,” megumi added, glaring at his lap. “friends don’t just leave.”

and in that moment, you and toji exchanged a look. it was one of understanding, of shared guilt and resolution. you weren’t just neighbors anymore, were you? whether you liked it or not, you’d become something more — something messier, but ultimately worth fighting for.

the fight left behind a new set of rules — some spoken, others understood. your daughter would spend one hour with megumi every weekend, no negotiations. an additional hour was set aside for assisted ballet practice, with megumi reluctantly twirling around like an uncoordinated giraffe under her direction. and then, as if her creative pursuits weren’t already ambitious, she insisted on an hour of practicing makeup.

on a very, very unwilling toji.

the first time she smeared blush across his cheekbones, a bright pink mess, toji grumbled the entire time. “this is ridiculous. i look like a clown.”

“no, you don’t,” your girl countered with all the confidence in the world. “you look beauuuutiful.”

megumi snickered behind her, holding up a hand mirror so his dad could see the finished product. toji groaned, but the corners of his mouth betrayed him with the faintest twitch of amusement.

you leaned against the doorway, watching the scene unfold. the shared giggles, the clumsy but earnest teamwork — it was loud, chaotic, and beautiful in its own way. this was right. this was what you hadn’t even realized you were missing.

and kento? well, the date you thought could be something turned into a friendship you didn’t know you needed. he became a quiet presence, someone who checked in, who made you laugh when work got overwhelming, and who offered sage advice about life when you needed it most.

“you’re doing great,” he told you once over coffee, his calm reassurance soothing the doubts that often crept in.

between the budding chaos in your hallway ballet classes, the makeup artistry sessions that somehow always ended with toji pouting in pink lipstick, and the quiet stability kento offered, you realized that life had settled into something messy, imperfect, but undeniably nice.

maybe it wasn’t what you’d planned. maybe it wasn’t ideal. but as your daughter twirled around the room, megumi trailing after her with hesitant steps, and toji scowled half-heartedly at his reflection, you couldn’t imagine wanting anything else.

exam season brought chaos, but not the kind you'd expected. with your daughter spending extra time at her dad's house to focus on studying, the silence in your apartment felt foreign. that is, until megumi started showing up more often, knocking on your door with his usual grumbles.

"why isn't the test about superheroes or football?" he'd complain, dragging his workbook into your living room as though it carried the weight of the world.

you’d chuckle softly, pulling up a chair next to him. “if multiplication was about superheroes, what would the question even look like?”

megumi furrowed his brow, considering. “uh... like, if spider-man saved five people every day for a week, how many people would he save?”

you smiled, leaning in. “exactly. now, how would you solve that?”

somehow, tailoring the lessons to his interests worked wonders. before long, megumi wasn’t just tolerating study time — he was coming over more and more, plopping onto your couch like he lived there.

toji, on the other hand, didn’t know what to make of it. sure, he appreciated that you were helping the kid, but every time he walked past your door and heard megumi's laughter ringing out, he felt... off.

he chalked it up to jealousy at first. not the bitter kind, but the kind that made him wonder why megumi could so easily open up to you, share his frustrations and laugh like the world wasn’t on his tiny shoulders.

then there was the other feeling, the one he buried as quickly as it surfaced. it was... comfort. relief, even. seeing megumi so at ease with you, so happy, made something in his chest tighten.

it didn’t help that when megumi came home, he’d mention you in passing, the smallest smile tugging at his lips. “she said i’d ace the test if i think about it like superheroes. she’s kinda cool.”

toji would grunt, pretending not to care. “yeah, well, don’t get too comfortable over there.”

but the truth was, toji couldn’t decide if he envied you for being able to connect with his son so easily or if he was just... glad. glad that someone like you existed in megumi’s world.

he wouldn’t admit it, though. not even to himself. instead, he shut the feelings down, brushing them off like they were nothing. because, after all, you were just the neighbor who helped out when needed.

right?

toji had every intention of marching into your apartment to retrieve megumi with a grumble about bedtime. the kid was always strict about his sleep schedule — how the hell had he fallen asleep at your place?

but when he stepped inside, the sight stopped him dead in his tracks.

there you were, sprawled on the couch with megumi curled up next to you, both of you out cold. the TV flickered softly, playing megumi’s favorite superhero show. the coffee table was a chaotic mess of open textbooks, scattered pencils, and hastily scribbled notes.

toji stood there for a moment, unsure what to do with the weird tug in his chest. the scene was... domestic.

painfully so.

megumi’s head was resting on your shoulder, your hand loosely draped over his back like you’d done this a thousand times before. the way you were both nestled together was too natural for something that should’ve felt foreign. it made something warm and uncomfortable rise in toji’s chest, a feeling he wasn’t ready to name.

he took a step closer, leaning against the doorframe. his frown deepened, not out of anger but out of frustration — mostly at himself.

this wasn’t anything, right? this was just you being nice to his kid. helping him out with schoolwork and keeping him company because you were a good person.

but then why did his heart feel like it was trying to beat its way out of his chest? why did seeing you with megumi like that make his throat tighten?

toji ran a hand through his hair, sighing quietly.

“dammit,” he muttered under his breath.

he knew he should’ve woken the both of you up, taken megumi home, and gone about his night like this didn’t mean anything. but instead, he found himself lingering, watching the two of you for a moment longer.

did neighbors really do this? take care of someone else’s kid like they were their own?

and did neighbors treat each other with such quiet, subtle affection? the kind that slipped into actions rather than words — the casseroles when someone was too tired to cook, the soft smiles exchanged in passing, the way you’d text him about the latest sale on megumi’s favorite snacks?

toji shook his head, trying to shove the thought away. god forbid, he might actually like you.

it was supposed to be a normal monday morning. drop your girl off at her ballet studio, exchange a quick goodbye, and then head to work like it wasn’t eating you alive that she was growing up too fast.

but then toji came out, coffee in one hand and his other scratching the back of his neck as he leaned against the doorframe, clearly still waking up. “hey, kid,” he called to your daughter, motioning her over with a lazy wave.

what happened next made you freeze mid-turn, your keys jangling awkwardly in your hand.

toji knelt to her level, his gruff voice taking on an edge of sincerity. “listen up, girlie. when you’re up there, you give ‘em hell, alright? don’t let anyone tell you you’re not good enough. and don’t worry about messin’ up — just keep goin’ like it never happened.”

your daughter nodded with wide eyes, hanging on to every word, her little face lit with admiration.

and god, he was trying so hard to keep it clean. but every so often, a “shit” or “hell yeah” would slip out, sending her into a fit of giggles. she tried so hard to be serious, biting her lip to stifle her laughter, but the sheer ridiculousness of him attempting to be PG while still being him was too much for a nine-year-old.

megumi, standing nearby with his arms crossed, was clearly torn. his little scowl was stuck somewhere between annoyance at your daughter for monopolizing his dad’s attention and longing to be spoken to like that himself.

and your daughter? she latched onto toji like he was some kind of life coach, her arms around his neck, thanking him in that sweet, sing-song voice she always used when she was truly happy.

your fingers tightened around your keys as your chest did a stupid thing.

because here was toji, your grumpy neighbor who could barely keep it together when megumi so much as sneezed during homework time, and yet here he was giving your girl the kind of pep talk that should’ve come from her own dad.

and worse? she listened. eagerly.

you fidgeted with your keys like that’d distract you from the warmth creeping into your chest, from the realization that maybe, just maybe, this tough, foul-mouthed, perpetually tired man wasn’t just good with kids. he was good for you. god forbid, you might actually be falling for toji fushiguro.

it wasn’t your finest moment — double-booking a work meeting during your daughter's pickup. you were already spiraling into guilt, pacing the room while trying to find a way to make it work, when toji grumbled his way into volunteering.

“don’t make a big deal outta it,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “she’s comin’ over for megumi anyway. might as well save you the trouble.”

you barely had time to thank him before he was out the door, keys jingling in his hand.

but what toji walked into at your ex’s house was far from what he expected.

your ex was already on some power trip, standing in the doorway like he owned the world. the smugness on his face was palpable, and it only got worse when he saw toji, a man who didn’t give a damn about puffed-up egos.

“oh, so you’re her chauffeur now?” your ex sneered, leaning lazily against the doorframe.

toji ignored him at first, his sharp eyes scanning past him to find your babygirl. she was standing behind her dad, clutching her little backpack like it was a shield, her lips trembling as she peeked at toji with wide eyes.

“c’mon, kid,” toji said, his voice softer than you’d expect from a man like him. he extended a hand, but your ex stepped in the way.

“you got a lotta nerve coming here,” your ex spat, crossing his arms. “what, you think playing house makes you her dad?”

toji’s eyes darkened, his jaw tightening as he took a deliberate step forward. “nah,” he said coolly, his voice dripping with menace. “but i’m a helluva lot better at it than you.”

that set your ex off, his voice rising with insults and accusations, not even caring that his daughter was right there, watching the whole thing unfold.

and toji? he had it. his patience snapped like a brittle twig.

“y’know what’s funny?” toji growled, stepping so close your ex had to tilt his head back to meet his glare. “you’re standin’ here flappin’ your gums about bein’ her dad, but you’re too busy bein’ a selfish prick to realize what you’re doin’ to her.”

before your ex could stammer out another insult, toji hoisted your girl into one of his arms like she weighed nothing, shielding her with his broad shoulders as he glared down at your ex.

“don’t bother callin’. she’s got enough on her plate without dealin’ with your crap,” he bit out before turning on his heel and walking away, your girl clutching his shirt like it was her lifeline.

the ride back was quiet, your girl’s sniffles filling the air as toji’s hand rested protectively on the wheel. he didn’t say much — just an occasional grunt to reassure her. when they arrived, he handed her off to you without a word, but the fire in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

and you? you were floored. because for all of toji’s grumbling and rough edges, he wasn’t just stepping up when you couldn’t — he was fighting for your girl like she was his own.

evening walks were supposed to be your moment of calm, a chance to clear your head after a long day. but calm went out the window the moment you saw megumi in the park, his usual quiet confidence missing as a group of older kids cornered him.

his small frame was tense, shoulders squared, but you could see the way his hands trembled as he balled them into fists at his sides. it wasn’t like megumi to let himself be pushed around, but whatever the bullies were saying had struck a nerve.

you didn’t even have to get close to catch the cruel words that slipped out of their mouths.

“no wonder your mom didn’t stick around.”

“bet she took one look at you and ran.”

“you’re just some charity case with a deadbeat dad.”

your heart twisted at the look on megumi’s face — his jaw clenched, eyes glassy with tears he refused to let fall. you weren’t his mom, but you felt the instinctive flare of protectiveness that made you forget every rule of decorum.

marching over, you didn’t bark at the kids or shoo them off like some passerby might. no, you planted yourself right beside megumi, crossing your arms with a look so sharp it could cut steel.

“is there a problem here?” you asked, voice calm but carrying a weight that made the kids shrink back.

they glanced between each other, suddenly unsure. “we were just talking —”

“talking?” you cut in, your tone sharp enough to make them flinch. “sounds to me like you’re all just jealous.”

the kids froze, confusion written all over their faces. “jealous of what?” one of them finally asked, voice cracking slightly.

you placed a hand on megumi’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “jealous that you’ll never have the heart or the strength this kid has. it’s easy to gang up on someone when you’ve got a pack behind you. try standing on your own for once. but then again, maybe that’s asking too much.”

megumi didn’t say a word, but you felt him lean into your touch, his small hand brushing against yours as if testing its solidity.

the bullies sputtered, trying to save face, but one by one, they slunk away, muttering excuses as they disappeared into the distance.

the moment they were gone, megumi’s tough facade crumbled. his shoulders sagged, his head dropping as the tears he had been holding back finally spilled over.

you crouched down to his level, wrapping your arms around him as much as his wiry frame would allow. “it’s okay, sweetheart,” you murmured, brushing a hand through his unruly hair. “you’re okay now.”

and just like that, this tough, guarded nine-year-old melted into your embrace, his small sobs muffled against your shoulder.

you stayed there, holding him as the evening light faded, your heart breaking and swelling all at once. you weren’t his mom, but in that moment, you might as well have been.

toji wasn’t the type to lose his composure, not even when megumi brought home bruised knees or a bad grade. he was a man of steady hands and a guarded heart, but tonight? tonight was different.

he was sitting on the couch, beer in hand, when megumi hesitated in front of him, nervously fiddling with his sleeve. “dad, something happened today,” he mumbled, voice low.

toji raised an eyebrow, setting his drink on the table. “what kind of something?”

and then megumi started talking — about the bullies, about their cruel words, and then about you stepping in. how you stood there, firm and unyielding, pretending to be his mom without hesitation. megumi’s voice cracked when he got to the part where he cried in your arms, and toji swore he felt something shatter in him.

he didn’t know if it was anger, gratitude, or guilt — maybe all three twisting together into a storm that made his chest ache.

"you didn’t say anything stupid to her, did you?" toji asked, his voice rougher than he intended.

megumi shook his head quickly. "no, but... she was really nice. it felt... it felt okay."

toji sighed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back into the couch. he should’ve been mad. should’ve been upset at megumi for dragging you into their lives like that, but instead, all he could think about was the way his chest tightened at the thought of you.

he needed to see you. not because he owed you, not because of some sense of duty, but because the idea of you stepping up for his kid like that made him feel something he hadn’t let himself feel in years.

he stood abruptly, grabbing his coat. megumi looked up at him, startled. “where are you going?”

toji paused for a moment. “i’ll be back. don’t stay up too late.”

megumi didn’t ask questions, just nodded and watched his dad leave the apartment.

when toji knocked on your door, he didn’t even know what he was going to say. a simple “thank you” didn’t feel like enough, but what else could he offer? the way his hands flexed at his sides and the way his heart pounded in his chest betrayed the calm exterior he was trying to maintain.

when you opened the door, he saw the surprise flash in your eyes. “toji?”

he rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost sheepish — a sight you never thought you’d see. “can i come in?”

and that’s when you felt it too — something bubbling between you both, something that had been building for a while, but neither of you had been ready to face. until now.

toji stood there, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his eyes flicking between you and the floor like the words he was searching for might be scrawled on the ground. he wasn’t the kind of man who talked about his feelings, let alone spilled them out like this.

but he had to say something.

“look,” he started, voice low and gruff, “i’m not great with... this kind of thing.”

you tilted your head, waiting patiently, and that just made it harder for him.

he huffed out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “megumi told me what happened today. how you... stepped in. and, uh —” he paused, almost wincing at how clumsy his words sounded, “ — just... thanks. for being there. for him.”

you smiled softly, opening your mouth to respond, but he held up a hand, cutting you off. “no, wait. i’m not done.”

he shifted, clearly uncomfortable but pushing through it anyway. “it’s not just today. it’s all of it. you’ve done more for that kid than most people ever have. hell, more than i probably have, and i’m his dad.” his laugh was bitter, self-deprecating. “you didn’t have to, but you did. and i —” he faltered, swallowing hard.

you could see it then, all of it — the gratitude, the guilt, the admiration, the something more he was too scared to name. it was all there, plain as day in the way he looked at you.

he sighed, shoulders slumping as if the weight of his words had exhausted him. “just... thanks. for him. for me. for... everything.”

and maybe you didn’t need to say anything. because as clumsy and awkward as his words were, you understood. you really did.

so you stepped forward, just close enough that he couldn’t avoid meeting your eyes anymore, and gave him a small, understanding smile. “you don’t need to thank me, toji. i care about him. about you both.”

something flickered in his expression — relief, maybe, or something even deeper. he nodded, just once, and it felt like enough. no confessions, no big speeches.

just this.

something had changed, though neither of you dared to put it into words. it was in the little things, the quiet moments that made your lives blur together in ways that felt natural, almost inevitable.

like how megumi, who usually kept his friends at arm’s length, started demanding your baby girl's presence at every outing, loudly justifying it as “she’ll get bored otherwise,” when really, he just liked having her around. and during those movie nights, when the kids were too engrossed in the screen, you and toji sat closer than necessary, your fingers brushing as you both reached for the popcorn. neither of you pulled away.

it was in how you became megumi’s loudest cheerleader at his little league matches, rivaling even toji’s booming encouragement. and the way he’d grin at you like you were the reason he hit that home run, his awkwardly mumbled, “did you see that?” enough to warm your heart.

toji wasn’t any different. no matter how busy he was, he showed up to every single one of your baby girl's ballet recitals, clapping so obnoxiously loud at the end that even the other parents gave him side-eyes. and after each recital, he’d crouch down, looking absurdly out of place with his towering frame, to tell her exactly how amazing she was — always with a teasing grin and a “guess megumi’ll have to step it up to keep up with you, huh?”

and then there were the practices. toji, of all people, trying to mimic ballet moves while your daughter giggled at how his long legs never quite landed in the right positions. megumi tried to feign disinterest but ended up joining too, his face as serious as ever as he attempted a plié.

you’d think the makeup thing would’ve been too much for him, but no. those butterfly-drawn cheeks and glittery nails stayed with toji for hours after your daughter left, and he never wiped them off — not until bedtime. megumi pretended not to notice, but you’d catch him smirking when toji forgot to scrub off a particularly bright streak of pink before heading out.

it all felt so... domestic. so easy. yet, neither of you dared to name it.

because neighbors helped neighbors, right? neighbors went to movies together. neighbors cheered for each other’s kids. neighbors shared popcorn and let their walls crumble, piece by piece.

this was okay. just neighbors looking out for each other. nothing more.

...right?

until it wasn’t.

you barely managed to get out of the cab, your heels clicking against the pavement, your dress clinging uncomfortably after hours of fake smiles and firm handshakes. all you could think about was peeling everything off, crashing into bed, and hoping the world would let you sleep in for once.

but then you saw him — toji, leaning against your apartment door, his broad frame tense, his head snapping up the moment he heard your footsteps.

"where the hell were you?" his voice was rough, low, but not angry. it was something else.

you froze, your bag slipping off your shoulder. “what are you doing here?”

his eyes, bloodshot and desperate, locked onto yours, scanning every inch of you like he was checking for injuries. “it’s one a.m., on a thursday,” he said, his voice cracking slightly on the last word. “your lights were off. you weren’t answering your phone.”

it hit you then — he’d been worried. toji fushiguro, the man who grumbled more than he talked, who deflected every feeling with a snarky comment, was pacing the hallway outside your apartment because he thought something had happened to you.

“i had a business meeting,” you said, the exhaustion seeping into your voice. “it ran late.”

but your explanation didn’t seem to matter. he took a step closer, his shoulders sagging in relief but still stiff with whatever storm had been brewing inside him.

“you could’ve told me,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “what if something happened? what if —”

“toji.” your voice was soft, cutting through his spiraling thoughts.

he stopped, his hand dropping to his side as he looked at you, his expression raw and unguarded. he wasn’t just worried. he was terrified. terrified that whatever this strange, fragile thing between you might be, it could slip away in an instant.

and before either of you could think better of it, you closed the distance. your arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him into a hug that felt as natural as breathing.

he stiffened at first, his body caught off guard, but then his arms came up around you, pulling you closer with a quiet exhale that sounded like he’d been holding it in all night.

neither of you said a word. you didn’t need to. whatever this was — this thing that had been building between you — it was no longer just neighbors helping neighbors.

it was so much more.

sure, the hug wasn’t something life-changing, but it definitely shifted something, like a tiny crack in the wall that neither of you were ready to knock down completely. there was this... tension now. not bad, not awkward, just there. like some invisible thread pulling you two closer, though never quite crossing a line — both of you too cautious, too unsure, to see what might happen if you did.

and damn those kids. they picked up on it almost immediately, their sharp little eyes catching every glance that lingered too long or every time toji grumbled just a little less around you.

megumi, of course, was the worst of the two, his quiet observations turning into pointed stares and a knowing smirk that made you want to sink into the floor.

“so,” he started one evening as he watched you and toji navigate an unspoken argument over whether you’d be the one to drive the kids to practice. “are you gonna be my dad’s special lady friend now or what?”

you nearly choked on air, and toji’s head snapped around so fast you were sure he’d pull a muscle.

“megumi,” toji growled, the warning clear in his voice.

megumi just shrugged, completely unbothered. “what? i like her. she’s nice. and you’re less grumpy when she’s around. that’s what matters, right?”

toji pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath about smartass kids. but there was a faint flush on his face, one that made you glance away quickly before your own cheeks betrayed you.

megumi’s logic was simple, blunt, and so very megumi. but it stuck with you more than you wanted to admit. if he was okay with whatever this was between you and his dad, maybe... just maybe, that was enough.

you sat cross-legged on the couch, sorting through some old receipts and papers, while your babygirl sprawled on the floor with her coloring book. the soft scratch of her crayons filled the room, a soothing sound that made the evening feel warm and easy.

“mom?” she asked, her voice cutting through the quiet.

you glanced up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “yeah, baby?”

she didn’t look up from her coloring, her little fingers gripping the green crayon a bit too tightly as she focused on staying inside the lines. “i like him.”

you blinked, confused at first. “like who, sweetie?”

she paused, tilting her head as if the answer was obvious. “uncle jiji.”

the crayon stilled in her hand, and she finally looked up at you, her eyes wide and sincere. your breath hitched, a small wave of surprise washing over you.

“oh?” you tried to keep your tone light, your fingers fiddling with the papers in your lap. “why’s that?”

“he’s funny,” she said matter-of-factly, returning to her coloring. “and he’s nice. he always listens to megumi, even when megumi’s being bossy. and he told me i’m the best ballerina ever — even better than on tv!”

you couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. of course, toji had said that.

“he’s just really cool,” she added, as if that sealed the deal.

you set the papers down, your chest tightening in a way that felt both overwhelming and oddly comforting. her words felt like a weight being lifted off your shoulders, one you hadn’t even realized you were carrying.

“you really like him, huh?” you asked softly.

she nodded vigorously, her pigtails bouncing with the motion. “yeah. and megumi’s cool too. he always shares his toys, even his superheroes. i think he’s my best friend.”

the corners of your mouth tugged upward as you leaned back against the couch. “well, i’m glad you think so, baby.”

“do you like him?” she asked suddenly, her eyes locking onto yours, filled with that unnerving, sharp perception only kids seemed to have.

your cheeks warmed, and you glanced down at the papers in your lap, pretending to shuffle them aimlessly. “well… yeah, i think he’s nice too.”

she studied you for a moment before shrugging and returning to her coloring. “good. because you’re happy when you talk to him. and he looks at you like daddy never does.”

your breath caught. her words were simple, innocent even, but they struck something deep. you reached out, smoothing a hand over her hair.

“you’re pretty wise for someone not even ten yet, you know that?” you murmured.

she giggled, leaning into your touch. “i know.”

as she went back to her coloring, you leaned back into the couch, letting the relief settle in. maybe she was right. maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. maybe… it was something good. something you both deserved.

toji sat on the worn couch in his living room, staring blankly at the muted television. the house was quiet, save for the occasional shuffle from megumi’s room. it should’ve been peaceful, but instead, it felt like the silence was screaming at him, pressing all those thoughts he’d been trying to ignore right to the surface.

what the hell was this?

he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, rubbing a hand down his face as he let out a low sigh. you were in his house so often now that it was hard to tell where the line was anymore. your girl's kid-sized ballet slippers were right by the door next to megumi’s sneakers. a casserole dish you’d returned sat drying on the counter. you had this way of slotting into his life that felt so natural it scared him.

did he want to address it? maybe.

maybe not.

you were busy as hell — a working mom with your own kid to think about. toji wasn’t stupid. he knew what he came with. a nine-year-old son, a messy history, and enough emotional baggage to sink a ship. did he really want to drag you into all that?

but then there were moments, like tonight, when the kids had dragged you into some elaborate roleplay involving superheroes and ballerinas. you’d sat cross-legged on the floor, a makeshift cape tied around your shoulders, pretending to be "supermom," and he hadn’t been able to look away.

when you’d caught him staring, you’d just laughed, “what? do i have pizza sauce on my face or something?”

he’d grunted something noncommittal, shaking his head, but his chest had felt tight in a way he couldn’t explain.

and now, here he was, thinking about it again.

his thoughts were interrupted by the soft click of the front door opening. you peeked your head in, a sheepish smile on your face. “hey. sorry, megs forgot his backpack at my place. figured i’d drop it off before i forgot, too.”

he stood, shoving his hands in his pockets as you walked in, setting the backpack down by the door. you were still in your work clothes, your shoulders looking a little more tired than usual.

“you could’ve waited till tomorrow,” he muttered, his voice low but not unkind.

“it’s no big deal,” you replied, brushing him off.

he watched as you straightened, lingering in the doorway, and something about the way you hesitated made him speak. “you eaten yet?”

you blinked, clearly surprised by the question. “uh, no, actually.”

he motioned toward the kitchen. “there’s leftovers. you want some?”

your smile softened as you stepped closer. “sure. thanks, toji.”

as you walked past him, his hand twitched at his side, like it wanted to reach out but didn’t know how.

in the kitchen, you moved around like you belonged there, grabbing a plate and heating up the food. he leaned against the counter, watching you in silence, and for the first time, he let himself think about what it would mean to let this thing between you be more than unspoken.

“hey,” he said after a moment, his voice rougher than he intended.

you glanced at him over your shoulder. “yeah?”

he opened his mouth, then closed it, the words catching in his throat. instead, he just muttered, “nothing. never mind.”

you tilted your head, studying him for a second, before giving a small nod. “okay.”

but there was something in your eyes, like you knew what he wasn’t saying, and it made his chest ache.

he wasn’t sure if addressing whatever the hell this was would change anything, but seeing the way you fit into his life — into megumi’s life — made the idea of trying feel a little less terrifying.

it wasn’t like you and toji had made any grand declarations. it was all small things, gestures that felt normal but carried an undercurrent of something deeper. grocery runs were the easiest excuse. you’d bump into him on your way home, still in your blazer and heels, and he’d grumble about needing to pick up some snacks for megumi. before you knew it, you’d both be walking side by side, bickering over the best brand of chips.

“you’re seriously buying that brand?” you teased, holding up a bag of chips that toji had tossed into the cart.

“megumi likes ‘em,” he retorted, leaning on the cart with that stupidly casual confidence that annoyed you just enough to make your heart flutter. “and besides, it’s not like your kid’s picky when she raids our pantry.”

you rolled your eyes but smiled all the same, because he wasn’t wrong.

then there were the little fixes around your apartment that seemed to magically get done whenever toji was around. your leaky faucet, the busted door hinge, your temperamental car — he waved off every attempt you made to pay him. “mechanic perks,” he’d say with a shrug, wiping his hands on a rag and giving you a smirk that made you want to both thank him and punch him.

and those car rides? the ones where the kids didn’t even need to be there? yeah, those were starting to feel more like a habit. you’d offer to drop toji off after picking megumi up from practice, and somehow, the drive would extend into picking up your girl from ballet class.

“they gotta meet anyway,” toji would say, his tone so nonchalant it was almost believable. but the way his eyes softened when your babygirl came running out, arms wide open for both of you? that was something he couldn’t fake.

then there was the day your ex finally had enough of whatever this was. the two of you had shown up together, a united front, to pick up your daughter from his place. she’d lit up like a firework when she saw you and toji standing side by side, and you couldn’t help but revel in the sight of her running straight into toji’s waiting arms before hugging you just as tightly.

“this is the guy you’ve been parading around with?” your ex sneered, his voice dripping with disdain as he leaned against the doorframe. “what, you think a deadbeat like him is an upgrade?”

toji’s posture stiffened, his grip on your daughter tightening just slightly as she clung to his neck. you opened your mouth to retort, but toji beat you to it, his voice calm but laced with steel.

“funny coming from you,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he stared your ex down. “least i actually show up for her.”

your ex faltered, his face contorting in anger, but he didn’t have a comeback. you didn’t stick around long enough for him to try.

as you buckled your daughter into the car, her voice piped up, innocent and bright. “jiji, are you coming over for dinner?”

toji glanced at you, and for a moment, something passed between you. a silent understanding, an acknowledgment of whatever the hell this was.

“yeah, kid,” he said, ruffling her hair with a small grin. “i’m coming over.”

and for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like you were walking this road alone.

the house was warm with the kind of peace that only came after a long, chaotic day. your babygirl and megumi were a tangled heap on the couch, her tiny head resting on his shoulder while he leaned back with his mouth slightly open, fast asleep. the tv played muted scenes of superheroes saving the world, but the real action was in the kitchen, where you and toji stood shoulder to shoulder by the sink.

"you sure you’re not just washing that same plate for the third time?” you teased softly, nudging him with your elbow as he scrubbed with more focus than seemed necessary.

toji smirked but didn’t look up, his voice low and gravelly. “just making sure it’s clean. you don’t want megumi whining about leftover crumbs, trust me.”

you chuckled, rinsing another dish under the warm water, and for a moment, it was just the soft clink of plates, the jazz playing quietly from your speaker, and the faint sound of your daughter’s steady breathing in the living room.

but something was different tonight. the air felt heavier, charged, like it was holding its breath. you could feel it in the way toji’s arm brushed against yours as he passed a dish to you, in the way his fingers lingered a second too long when he handed you the towel.

“you really didn’t have to stay and help with this,” you said, glancing at him.

he shrugged, still not meeting your gaze. “figured i owed you. besides, you cooked. least i can do is clean up.”

his voice was quieter than usual, almost shy, and that wasn’t a word you’d ever thought you’d associate with toji fushiguro. it made something in your chest tighten.

you turned off the faucet, drying your hands as you looked over at him. he was still focused on the plate in his hands, but you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw was set like he was bracing himself.

“toji?”

he finally looked at you, and there it was — that softness in his eyes that he didn’t let show often. it made your breath catch, made the world feel like it had shrunk down to just the two of you standing in this little kitchen.

he set the plate down slowly, wiping his hands on a towel before turning to face you fully. for a moment, neither of you said anything. the jazz filled the silence, but the air between you was louder than words.

his hand came up hesitantly, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his calloused fingers grazing your cheek. “you’ve been good to him, y’know,” he murmured, his voice rough but soft in the way he said it. “to us.”

you didn’t know what to say to that. all you could do was nod, your throat tight as you looked up at him. his face was closer now, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips like he was searching for something — permission, maybe, or courage.

you didn’t even realize you’d moved until your hand rested lightly on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm.

and then it happened.

he leaned in, slowly, almost cautiously, and your eyes fluttered shut just as his lips brushed against yours. it was tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but when you didn’t pull away — when you leaned into him instead — it deepened.

toji kissed like he did everything else: fully, unapologetically, with an intensity that left you breathless. his hands found your waist, pulling you just a little closer, and you slid yours up to rest on his shoulders, feeling the strength there, the way he held you like you were something fragile and precious all at once.

the kiss wasn’t hurried or frantic; it was slow, deliberate, like he wanted to memorize every second of it. it was the kind of kiss that left your knees weak, your head spinning, and your heart pounding in your chest.

when you finally pulled back, both of you a little breathless, his forehead rested against yours.

“damn,” he muttered, his voice low and a little shaky.

you couldn’t help but laugh softly, your fingers still curled in the fabric of his shirt. “yeah,” you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper.

the moment stretched between you, warm and heavy and perfect. and for the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

megumi stirred awake first, his sharp eyes blinking groggily as he took in the scene. your baby girl was still curled up against him, her face smushed against his shoulder, and he wrinkled his nose, trying to shake her off gently without waking her. it was only when he looked over to the kitchen that he paused, his brain catching up with what he was seeing.

his dad. toji. standing ridiculously close to you by the sink, both of you talking in low voices like the world outside didn’t exist. toji’s hand brushed your arm lightly as he reached for a towel, and you laughed softly, a sound that felt too intimate for megumi to process this early in his half-asleep state.

“ugh, gross,” he mumbled under his breath, sitting up straighter and inadvertently jostling your babygirl awake.

she yawned, rubbing her eyes and giving him a confused look. “what’s gross?”

“nothing,” megumi said quickly, his face heating up as he avoided looking at her — or at the scene in the kitchen that was playing out like the ending of one of those superhero movies he loved but would never admit made him feel things.

by the time you and toji noticed the kids were awake, megumi had already schooled his expression into something neutral, though his sharp eyes flicked between the two of you as you made your way over.

“sorry for waking you up, sweetheart,” you said softly to your kid, crouching down to smooth her hair.

toji, ever the blunt one, crossed his arms and grunted, “time to get going, brats.”

megumi shot him a look, one that said you’re not fooling me, old man, but he didn’t say anything. instead, he stood up and stretched, deliberately not looking at how his dad’s gaze lingered on you for just a second too long.

at the door, the kids exchanged their goodbyes in their usual awkward but affectionate way — your baby girl giving megumi a quick hug that he tolerated with a huff.

toji ruffled megumi’s hair roughly, earning an annoyed grunt. “come on, kid. say thank you.”

megumi rolled his eyes but muttered a grudging, “thanks for dinner,” before looking up at you.

and then, because megumi was too perceptive for his own good, he added, “and for putting up with him.”

toji frowned, his brows knitting together. “watch it, smartass.”

but the way you laughed — soft and warm and filled with something megumi couldn’t quite name — made toji’s expression soften.

as you leaned down to hug your babygirl goodnight, megumi caught his dad watching you again, his face doing that weird thing it did when he was proud of a home run or secretly enjoying one of megumi’s superhero tangents.

“dad,” megumi said as they stepped into the hallway.

“what?” toji grunted, avoiding his son’s gaze.

megumi smirked, the kind that made him look way older than his nine years. “you’re doing that thing.”

toji frowned, feigning ignorance. “what thing?”

“you know. that thing my favorite superhero does when he saves his secret girlfriend,” megumi said with a dramatic air, glancing back at your door before looking at his dad again.

toji snorted, trying — and failing — not to look flustered. “quit it, kid.”

but megumi didn’t miss the way his dad’s lips twitched into the smallest of smiles. he knew exactly what was going on.

love? probably.

yeah, megumi was pretty sure his dad loved you.

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it was funny, really, how quickly time had flown. one moment, you were corralling a tutu-clad, glitter-faced babygirl to ballet class, and the next, you were breaking up arguments between her and megumi over whose superhero knowledge was superior.

"they’re literally fake, megumi!" she'd shriek.

"so are ballerinas in space!" he’d yell back.

and there you and toji would be, slumped at the dining table, each nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee as you exchanged weary, knowing looks.

“how do ten-year-olds even have this much energy?” you’d mutter, pressing your fingertips into your temples.

toji, half-laughing, half-grumbling, would reply, “they don’t. they’re siphoning it off us.”

it had been a year and a half of this — this weird, beautiful, chaotic thing you’d built. the kids, their shared antics, and the way they declared every single dinner a sleepover had woven your lives together so seamlessly that it felt like you’d never been apart in the first place.

but the truth? the sleepover excuse wasn’t just for the kids anymore. you and toji had grown so comfortable in this rhythm, this routine, that it felt like breathing. and yet, there was still this unspoken thing between you, hanging in the air like a question neither of you wanted to ask.

it was easy to ignore, easier still to pretend that this was just how things were. you’d watch as toji threw his head back in laughter at one of megumi’s sarcastic comments, his broad shoulders shaking, or when he’d lean in to help your girl tie her ballet shoes — his fingers oddly gentle for someone so rough around the edges. those moments made your heart ache in ways you didn’t want to name.

and then there was the way he looked at you when the kids weren’t paying attention. like when megumi would drag your babygirl out into the yard to “train” her in superhero moves, and you’d catch toji’s eyes lingering on you just a second too long.

“what?” you’d ask, your voice quieter than you intended.

“nothin’,” he’d say, but the way his lips twitched into a small smile betrayed him.

but you knew it wasn’t nothing. it hadn’t been nothing for a while now. and maybe it was time to stop pretending.

your ex hadn’t made it easy, of course. every time he paraded some new flavor of the month in front of your girl, you’d see the disappointment in her eyes, and it made your chest tighten. but then there’d be toji — steady, dependable, his quiet reassurances and the way he always managed to make her smile again.

“he’s better than dad,” she’d told you once, out of the blue, her voice small but firm.

and maybe that was the final nudge you needed.

the night felt heavier than usual, the quiet hum of the dishwasher and the occasional creak of the floorboards the only sounds accompanying you as you stood side by side in the kitchen. toji rinsed the last plate, handing it to you with a quick glance that lingered a little too long.

“they’re getting wilder,” he muttered, nodding toward the living room where your girl and megumi were sprawled on the sofa, limbs tangled as if they'd fought sleep until it finally won.

you chuckled softly, drying the plate and setting it aside. “they’re ten. this is the warm-up for what’s coming in a few years.”

he let out a low groan, running a hand through his hair. “don’t remind me. thought i’d have more time before the hormones kicked in.”

you smirked, leaning against the counter as he dried his hands on a dishtowel. it was domestic in a way that felt almost too intimate, like crossing an invisible line. and yet, neither of you had stepped back.

“toji,” you said, your voice breaking the comfortable silence.

he looked up, the weight in your tone pulling his full attention. “yeah?”

you hesitated, biting your lip as you fidgeted with the edge of the dish towel. how do you even start this? you thought about the past year and a half, the shared laughter, the quiet moments, the way his presence had become a constant in your life. the way your girl lit up when he was around. the way you lit up.

“this,” you finally said, gesturing between the two of you, your words coming out softer than you intended. “whatever this is... do you think we should talk about it?”

his brow furrowed slightly, and for a moment, your heart sank. but then he nodded, setting the towel down on the counter.

“i’ve been thinkin’ about it,” he admitted, his voice low.

“and?” you prompted, your heart pounding in your chest.

he sighed, leaning against the counter beside you, his gaze fixed on the floor. “look, i’m not great at this kinda thing,” he began, his fingers tapping absently against the edge of the counter. “but... you’ve been good for me. for megumi. hell, for both of us.”

your breath caught, and you turned to face him fully. “toji...”

he held up a hand, cutting you off gently. “lemme finish,” he said, his voice a little rough. he looked at you then, really looked at you, his eyes searching yours like he was trying to figure out how to say something he’d been holding onto for too long.

“i didn’t think this was gonna happen,” he said finally. “not for me. not again.” he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “but you... you made it so easy. like it’s not somethin’ to be scared of. like it’s just... there. y’know?”

you nodded, your throat tight as you listened.

“and it’s not just about me,” he continued, his voice softening. “it’s about them. megumi... he’s happier than i’ve seen him in years. and your girl? she’s somethin’ special, and the way you’ve raised her... damn.” he shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “you’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

you felt your cheeks heat, and you looked down, trying to compose yourself.

“so yeah,” he said, his voice steady now. “i don’t know what this is, but if you’re askin’ me if i want more of it... then yeah. i do.”

your breath hitched, and when you looked up, the sincerity in his eyes made your chest tighten.

“toji,” you said again, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’ve wanted to say something for a while now, but I didn’t know how. you’ve been... everything we didn’t know we needed. me and my girl. you’ve been there in ways no one else ever has, and it’s just... it’s so easy with you. i want this too.”

his lips curved into a small, relieved smile, and for a moment, the weight of the unspoken words between you lifted.

“yeah?” he asked softly, his voice almost teasing.

you smiled back, nodding. “yeah.”

and then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he reached out and pulled you into a hug. it wasn’t rushed or desperate — it was steady, grounding, the kind of hug that felt like coming home. and when he whispered, “i’m all in if you are,” into your hair, you felt the last of your hesitation melt away.

because with toji, love wasn’t just a possibility — it was a promise.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

another two years later, and the kids were twelve. twelve. a big deal, according to them. suddenly they were "basically teenagers," and with that came a whole new level of attitude and pride. and you and toji? you were more than grateful for the chaos. or, as he liked to tease, “engaged to it.” yeah, engaged. took the man long enough — three and a half, maybe four years — but who’s counting?

your kids, of course, had taken the news with the kind of casual confidence only twelve-year-olds could muster. “about time,” megumi had muttered, earning an elbow in the ribs from your girl, who’d just grinned and said, “told you he liked her.”

and publicly? they carried themselves with the kind of poise that made you and toji bite back laughter more than once. “yeah, that’s my dad,” your girl would say with a shrug as toji dropped her off at ballet, towering over all the other dads and somehow looking both intimidating and incredibly proud as she disappeared into the studio.

megumi was just as bad. “that’s my mom,” he’d say to anyone within earshot at his little league games, pointing you out as you cheered the loudest from the stands, sometimes alongside toji who couldn’t help but smirk at your enthusiasm. “and yeah, that’s my sister,” he’d add, nonchalantly, as if it wasn’t a big deal that they’d practically become inseparable siblings over the years.

of course, behind closed doors, they were just kids. kids who still watched superhero movies while pretending not to, kids who choreographed ballet routines to superhero soundtracks because cool kids don’t watch superhero movies.

and you? you were still on that hustle, balancing work, motherhood, and planning a wedding with the kind of grace that made toji shake his head in awe every time.

“how do you do it?” he’d asked one night, watching you juggle your laptop and the kids’ school schedules.

“coffee and pure spite,” you’d replied, smirking over the rim of your mug.

toji, though? he’d built something solid too. his mechanic shop was finally open, a dream he’d quietly nurtured for years. seeing him in his element, sleeves rolled up, hands covered in grease, and that signature smirk plastered across his face, was enough to make your heart skip a beat every damn time.

life wasn’t perfect — there were still late nights, homework battles, and the occasional tantrum — but it was good. no, scratch that. it was damn good.

365 notes · View notes

hoshifighting · 21 hours ago

Text

college fling!hoshi

WARNINGS: hoshi trying on stilettos, smut, blowjob + handjob body fluids (spit, cum), hoshi has the HIP GAME!!!! penetrative sex, g'spot stimulation, him getting obsessed with the sight of reader cumming for days <3333

WC: 2.6k of it, bc i forgot how this kind of imagine should be midway 🤝

part 1 / part 2

college fling!hoshi who, since that night, started finding every excuse to touch you. a hand on your lower back when you’re walking through a crowded hallway, his knee bumping yours when you sit together, even a quick pat on your head after practice with a cheeky “good job, sunbae.” you tried to brush it off as just his love language—maybe he’s one of those people who thrive on physical contact. but every time his fingers lingered a second too long, you couldn’t ignore the flutter in your chest.

college fling!hoshi who accidentally wandered into the wrong studio one day, his excuse ready before anyone even questioned it. “oh, i just… wanted to try something new,” he said, grinning a little too wide as the teacher raised an eyebrow. the announcement had been clear: stiletto class was for the girls this time. yet here he was, standing awkwardly by the door, hands in his pockets, clearly lying through his teeth.

college fling!hoshi who got handed a pair of heels anyway, much to the amusement of the other girls. “you sure about this?” you teased, smirking as he slipped the shoes on. “i’ve got this,” he said confidently, taking one step—and immediately stumbling. the room erupted into laughter, and even the teacher had to hide a smile. “maybe sit this one out, hoshi,” she said gently, gesturing to the corner. cheeks flushed, he muttered a quiet “okay” and plopped down, his gaze finding you almost instantly.

college fling!hoshi who sat there pretending to be invested in everyone else’s routines, but his eyes were glued to you. the way you swayed your hips, the sharp arch of your back during the floorwork, the effortless way you spun in heels that would’ve broken his ankles. he tried to play it cool, leaning back in his chair like he wasn’t watching every move you made, but the heat rising to his cheeks gave him away.

college fling!hoshi who waited until class was over to approach you, his sneakers squeaking against the polished floor as he caught up. “you’re insane in those,” he blurted, nodding toward your heels. “how do you even stay upright?” you smirked, twirling in front of him. “talent, hoshi. pure talent.” he rolled his eyes but didn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “if that’s what talent looks like, I’m officially untalented.

college fling!hoshi who offered to carry your bag after class because, “you’ve been walking in those all day, and your feet probably hate you.” you let him take it, amused at how eager he seemed. “you’re really playing the gentleman card, huh?” you teased as he slung the bag over his shoulder. “what can I say? i’m trying to earn extra sunbae points,” he shot back, his grin so wide it made your cheeks warm.

college fling!hoshi who, despite his earlier embarrassment, started showing up more often during your stiletto classes. he always had some flimsy excuse—“just wanted to see if i’d get better at walking in them” or “i’m here for moral support!”—but you weren’t stupid. you caught the way his eyes followed you whenever you moved, the way he couldn’t hide his smirk when you executed a particularly complicated move.

college fling!hoshi who couldn’t resist bringing up the class later when you were grabbing beer together. “so, uh,” he started, stirring his drink unnecessarily, “do you always look that good in stilettos, or was today just special?” you nearly choked on your drink, glaring at him over the rim of your can. “bold of you to say after nearly eating shit in them.”

college fling!hoshi who always lingered by your door, shifting from foot to foot, his smile shy but hopeful. “you sure you’re good for the night?” he’d ask, every single time, like he was waiting for you to say no. one evening, you finally did. “actually, wanna come in?” you asked, leaning against the doorframe. his eyes lit up, and he followed you inside without a second thought, shrugging off his backpack like he’d been planning this for weeks.

college fling!hoshi who suddenly kissed like he’d been holding himself back since he had met you. his hands hesitant as they cupped your jaw, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you. but once your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, something in him snapped. he kissed you deeper, hungrier, and you felt it in the way his breath hitched against your lips when you bit down gently on his bottom one.

“shit, y/n,” he whispered, his forehead pressed to yours. “you can’t just do that and expect me to stay sane.” you grinned, pulling him back in. “who said anything about staying sane?”

college fling!hoshi who couldn’t stop his hands from wandering once things got heated. his palms roamed over your thighs, your waist, and the curve of your ass, “you’re gonna kill me, sunbae.” but when your nails dragged down his back, his breath stuttered, and he let out a whiny moan that made your stomach twist. “keep doing that,” he said, his voice rough, “i’m begging you.”

college fling!hoshi who loved the way you teased him when he got impatient. “hoshi, you’re so easy,” you’d whisper, your lips brushing his ear. his grip on your hips would tighten, his jaw clenching as he growled, “say that again and see what happens.” and you did, because watching him lose control when you pushed his buttons was one of your favorite things.

“you’re a menace,” he muttered, pinning you to the mattress, but the smirk on his face said otherwise. “and you’re obsessed with me.” you shot back, gasping when his lips found the sensitive spot on your neck. “yeah,” he admitted, his voice muffled against your skin, “i am.”

college fling!hoshi who couldn’t get enough of the way you moved beneath him. his hands guided your hips to hump your clothed cunt on his erection like he was choreographing the moment. “just like that,” he breathed, his voice a rasp. when you rolled your hips against him as you two used only your underwears, his head fell back, a groan tearing from his throat.

college fling!hoshi who fell apart the first time you flipped him onto his back, straddling him with a naughty grin, he stared up at you like you were a dream.

college fling!hoshi who swore he could see stars when your mouth wrapped around him for the first time. “oh!—god—fuck!” he gasped, his head falling back against the pillows, fingers immediately tangling in your hair. he let out the prettiest sounds you’d ever heard. “y/n… holy shit. where did you learn to—” he cut himself off with a sharp moan when your tongue swirled around the tip, his hips bucking up before he caught himself.

“don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to,” you teased, pulling back for a second, your lips shiny and curved into a smirk. his breath hitched as you spit into your hand, wrapping it around the base of his cock. you started to pump slowly, your gaze locked on his face as you leaned back down to take him in your mouth again.

“fuck, fuck,” hoshi groaned, his fingers tightening in your hair, torn between pushing you closer and letting you set your own pace. his thighs were trembling, and you could feel him twitching in your mouth as you worked him over with a mix of your tongue and hand. “y/n, you’re… you’re gonna kill me” he choked out, his voice breaking on the last word.

you pulled back again, just enough to talk, your hand still stroking him. “you’re being dramatic,” you teased, your breath warm against his cock skin. his head snapped up, eyes wide and glassy. “dramatic? you call this dramatic?” he asked, gesturing wildly at his flushed face and the way he was visibly crumbling under your touch.

you laughed, leaning down to press a kiss to his thigh before dragging your tongue along his length again.

college fling!hoshi could barely form words when you started to get messier with it, spit dripping down your hand and lips as you hollowed your cheeks and took him deeper. “shit, fuck, you’re so good at that,” he stammered, his voice breathy and high-pitched. his thighs flexed, and he gripped the sheets with one hand, the other still in your hair.

“gonna come, gonna come, I swear, I can’t—” he cut himself off with a broken whimper when your hand squeezed just right, your tongue flicking over the sensitive slit that made him see white. he was trying so hard to hold back, his abs tensing as his hips stuttered up into your mouth.

“you’re so loud,” you teased, pulling off with a pop to stroke him faster, your hand slick and warm. he groaned, throwing his head back, one hand slapping over his mouth in a desperate attempt to muffle himself. “don’t you dare,” you scold hum. “i like hearing you.”

college fling!hoshi nearly lost it at your words, his hand dropping to his side as he let out a string of curses. “you’re insane,” he breathed, his voice shaking as he looked down at you. “you’re so fucking insane, and I’m—oh, fuck—”

when he finally came, it was with a high, drawn-out moan, his body trembling as he spilled into your mouth. he suddenly raises himself, because he knows that if he drowns too much in this orgasm, he wont have the forces to fuck you tonight. and he clearly have been waiting to fuck you.

college fling!hoshi who, the first time he pressed you into the mattress and slid inside, moved his hips in a way that made your head spin. his hips didn’t just thrust—they rolled, fluid and precise. he leaned down, lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “feel how good i can make it?”

and fuck, you felt it. the way his body synced with yours, the slow grind that made you arch into him, chasing every ounce of friction he gave. you couldn’t form words, just moans and gasps that drove him further. “there you go,” he murmured, his voice soft but teasing, “just let me take care of you, princess, my pretty sunbae.” his tone was cocky, but his eyes were so nasty that it melted you into the sheets.

he knew exactly when to slow down, pulling out almost all the way before snapping his hips back in making you sob out loud. “there it is,” he groaned, watching the way your body reacted to him, the way your thighs quivered and your back arched. “you’re so sensitive here hm? can’t even handle a little rhythm.”

“shut your mouth!” you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders, but he just laughed, dipping his head to kiss you hard, stealing the rest of your breath. “you’re so tight,” he groaned, his forehead resting against yours as his hips snapped against you.

your hands slid down his back, nails digging into the dip of his spine as you moaned his name, and that’s when you realized—he loved it. every time you lost control, and did it, he shivered, clearly. “you sound so good like this, keep saying my name, baby. i need to hear it.”

college fling!hoshi who couldn’t stop himself from showing off just a little—that way, he can try to make you addicted to it. he’d grab your hips, pulling you flush against him as he adjusted the angle, making you gasp as he hit just the sweet spot. “there.” he affirmed, “that’s it. you feel that?”

“hoshi, oh my god!” you whimpered, your hands fisting the sheets, and he grinned, clearly proud of himself. “yeah, you do,” he said, his tone cocky but still full of love. “god, you look so good like this. so fucking good.”

college fling!hoshi who, even when he was about to nut, always knew how to make it about you. his hips stuttered as he got closer, but he shifted, angling himself to hit the spot that made you see fireballs. “come on, baby,” he panted. “i need to feel you come. please, y/n, just let go for me.”

college fling!hoshi who couldn’t focus on anything for an entire week, replaying the memory of your face when you came like it was a highlight reel on loop. he’d be in the middle of stretching before class, staring at the floor, and suddenly your breathless moans would echo in his head. “nooo...” he muttered under his breath, quickly looking around to make sure no one noticed the way he adjusted his sweatpants.

college fling!hoshi who walked around campus like a man possessed, unable to concentrate on anything except you. the way your lips parted, the tremble in your thighs, the way you said his name like it was the only word you knew. he caught himself zoning out during a group project, the other guys snapping their fingers in his face. “you good, dude?” one of them asked, raising an eyebrow.

hoshi blinked, shaking his head like he could physically shove the memory away. “yeah, yeah, just—uh, tired,” he stammered, avoiding their eyes. tired? bullshit. he was absolutely whipped, and everyone around him knew it.

college fling!hoshi who would steal glances at you during class, his cheeks flushing when you met his eyes and smirked. you knew. of course, you knew. how could you not, when he was practically radiating “i’m thinking about fucking you” energy every time he looked at you?

“hoshi, focus,” you whispered, nudging his foot under the table. he cleared his throat, staring down at his notebook and scribbling nonsense, but his leg bounced under the desk. you leaned closer, your lips barely brushing his ear. “stop spacing out, or should i remind you how loud you were that night?”

his eyes widened, his whole face turning red as he choked on air. “y/n!” he hissed, his voice scandalized but barely above a whisper. you just grinned, leaning back like you hadn’t just ruined his entire day.

college fling!hoshi who started training harder, like he needed to burn off all the pent-up energy you left him with. but even then, mid-routine, his mind wandered to the way you’d clawed at his back, your nails leaving marks he’d stared at in the mirror for days.

“focus, hoshi!” the professor barked, clapping her hands. he startled, nearly tripping over his own feet. “yes, ma’am!” he stammered, bowing quickly. but as soon as practice ended, he was texting you.

[hoshi, 6:32 PM]: you’re insane, you know that? [y/n, 6:33 PM]: elaborate. [hoshi, 6:34 PM]: you know why.

college fling!hoshi who nearly combusted when you casually mentioned the night to him. “so… did you enjoy yourself?” you asked, your tone lightg, like you already knew the answer.

“enjoy myself?” he repeated, his voice going up an octave. “y/n, are you serious? i’ve been thinking about it every fucking day since then.”

you laughed, leaning against his shoulder. “good to know i left an impression.”

“an impression?” he groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “you ruined me. every time i close my eyes, i see you—” he stopped himself, his cheeks turning pink.

“see me what?”

“i’m not saying it,” he muttered, covering his face with his hands. “you’re evil.”

college fling!hoshi who couldn’t help himself during your next late-night practice. you were stretching, your body arching in a way that made his mouth go dry, and he just… lost it.

“y/n,” he called, his voice lower than usual. you turned, raising an eyebrow. “what’s up?”

“can we…” he hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “can we go back to your dorm?”

“hoshi, practice just started.”

“please,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, “i need you.”

and when you finally caved, grabbing your bag and leading him out of the room, he was already planning to memorize everything all over again.

280 notes · View notes

marauder-misprint · 14 hours ago

Note

would u write abt some angsty (mybe w a happy ending?) w remus, please? if possible maybe smtg like the bet trope, im soo down bad with bet tropes, 😔😔😔 im sorry if its a burden, and thank you for spending ur time reading this

You said "bet trope" and I said bet. So it's more fluff than angst... oops? I'll try to get more angst with Remus soon

Conducive

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

4.7k words

cw: fluff, lil angst,

“Moons, how is it that you’ve never been kissed, yet everyone calls you Casanova?” Sirius asks at dinner in the Great Hall one evening.

Remus raises his eyebrows but doesn’t look away from his plate.

“I respect women?” he offers.

“We all respect women here. But come on, even Peter’s kissed Mary,” James adds.

Remus looks up at his friends. “I’m here for an education. Dumbledore was kind enough to let me be here; least I can do is focus. You three are distraction enough.”

“I just think you could do with some more… distractions,” Sirius says, waving his fork around as a prop to make his point.

“If I wanted a female distraction, I’d have no issues obtaining it.”

“No issues, huh?” Peter asks. “Care to prove it?”

Remus shot him a glare. “Did you miss the part where I said if I wanted it?”

“I don’t see how you don’t want it.”

“Wormy’s got a point,” James says.

“Let me rephrase: If I needed a female distraction,” Remus says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sure, I want it from time to time, but if anyone else found out about my furry little secret, I’d be out of here. So I’m making the most of my time.”

“No one is going to find out!” Sirius says. “Have. Some. Fun.”

“You lot found out.”

“We live with you.”

“Still. You don’t think if I got involved with someone that it would take them that long? It was hard enough lying to you. What if I start to actually like someone? It’d be impossible.”

“Then don’t like them. Just get them to like you enough to kiss them and then ditch them,” Sirius suggests, earning himself a glare from Remus.

“That just sounds cruel.”

“More cruel than you denying yourself feminine company?”

“I’m Casanova, remember? I get plenty of company.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I still think you should prove it,” Peter says. “Do what Pads suggested.”

“What?”

“Get a girl.”

“Keep her ‘round long enough to get off and then you jet. Easy ‘nough, yeah?” James clarifies for Remus, given his mildly confused look.

“No,” Remus says firmly.

“What if we made a bet out of it?” Sirius asks, leaning forward.

That got Remus’ attention.

“Okay, then what do I get out of it? When I win.”

“If, and only if, you can get a girlfriend and snog the living daylights out of her, we will… uh… willingly study with you in the library for finals. We’ll be complacent participants, helping you and ourselves. As you try to drag us to do every year,” Sirius says. He pauses as the other two nod. “And if you fail, butterbeers are on you for the rest of the year.”

Remus snorts. “So if I do it, I just get company in the library and you benefit. But if I lose, I’m financially ruined?”

“More incentive,” Peter retorts.

“You’re on,” Remus says, offering his hand for Sirius to shake. He does. “If I wasn’t sure I could do it, I’d be asking for better terms.”

“Wait!” James interrupts with Remus and Sirius still mid-shake. “I feel like we should pick who it has to be. Otherwise you could just ask Marlene to snog you.”

Remus makes a face. “She’s dating Dorcas, you know this.”

“No, no, he has a point,” Peter says. “Either of them would snog you if you said it was for a bet, especially if it means we,” he gestures to him, James and Sirius, “lose said bet.”

“Fine. Pick the girl. For the love of Godric, pick someone single and semi-tolerable.”

The boys scan the hall, not paying attention to house. Their eyes land on you. All three boys seemed to be in agreement before any of them voiced your name.

“Her,” James says, pointing at you.

You were just as perpetually single as Remus, although he didn’t know what your reason for being so was. It wasn’t like boys never approached you, offering to pay for your drinks at Hogsmeade or to stand by you at the next Quidditch match, but the boys always walked away looking a bit down. You shot them down. Every single one of them.

So in the boys’ attempt to get him to prove his ability to charm a girl, they also wanted to see a miracle. From the grins on their faces, they know it’s going to be impossible.

“So you want my financial ruin?”

“I want either want butterbeer or you to get fucking laid,” Sirius says coolly. “It’s a win-win for me.”

“We said nothing about me getting laid!” Remus exclaims, panicking. “We said kiss, snog, neck, whatever you want to call it. Not laid.”

James laughs, “If you can get a snog out of her, you’re definitely getting laid.”

“I hate that I shook on this already,” Remus groans. He knows he has no way out of this now.

---

You are blissfully unaware of the bet the Marauders have going. You have no reason to think that you are of any concern to them, besides that Remus now occasionally says hello to you in passing. If anything, it feels like the other three are purposefully avoiding you, not that that matters to you. It’s preferable that way. You had always found Remus to be the most tolerable of them, but that didn’t mean you were friends or spoke to him all that often. Right now, it meant that you said hi back to him.

You are studying in the library when Remus comes up and asks if you’d mind if he shared a table with you. There are other tables available, but you agree. You are struggling with your Transfiguration essay and if it comes to it, you’re almost positive you could ask him for help. Until then, you work near each other in silence. That is, until someone else joins your table.

Andrew Lark, a boy in your house, sits across from you.

“You going to Hogsmeade this weekend?” he asks.

“No,” you say shortly, not looking up from your essay, although you do stop writing. You don’t want to write the wrong thing down because Andrew was talking.

“Do you want to? I’d love to take you.”

“No thank you, Andrew.”

“Come on, love. Let me take you out.”

“I have no desire to go to Hogsmeade this weekend, nor do I want to go out with you.”

“Baby, we’d have-” he starts to say.

“Lark, she said no,” Remus says calmly, having stopped working as soon as Andrew approached the table.

Andrew shot Remus an annoyed look. “Wasn’t talking to you, Lupin.”

“I know. But you weren’t listening to her.”

“This doesn’t involve you.”

Remus scoffs. “You interrupted my studying by being here. I’d say I’m semi-involved.”

“Then sit elsewhere,” Andrew says, before turning back to you. “Last chance? It’d be more fun than you’re imagining.”

You give Remus a sideways glance. He’s looking at you, waiting for your response as much as Andrew is.

“Surprise, surprise, Remus is right. I said no.” You give Remus a quick smile before turning back to your essay.

Andrew rolls his eyes and stands up. “Think about it, dove. My offer will always stand.”

Then he walks away. You and Remus both return to your silent working. You feel Remus’ eyes on you every once in a while; you can also tell he’s looking at you from when he pauses his writing, letting his quill just hover above the ink pot longer than a person normally would.

“So what do you have against Hogsmeade?” he asks after a few minutes.

You snort. “Oh, nothing really. Andrew’s been asking me to go with him for months and I’d really rather not go with him. Plus, Slughorn’s essay? Haven’t even started that.”

Remus nods with a breath of relief. “Good, I don’t know how anyone can actually not like Hogsmeade.” He pauses. “Would you like company when you work on that essay?”

The question catches you off guard. You look up at him and you’re sure the shock is evident on your face.

“I, uh, can’t stop anyone from being in the library,” you say, feeling uncertain.

“Well, no,” he chuckles. “But if you’d rather work alone…”

You don’t respond right away; you’re considering it. Remus wasn’t a bother. You didn’t know why he would give up a Hogsmeade trip to be in the library with you though. You knew he usually accompanied his boisterous friends to the village.

“If it’s just you, I suppose company could be nice.” A small smile is playing at your lips in a way Remus has never seen before. “If you’re thinking of bringing the rest of your little gang with you, I’d rather you stay away then.”

Remus chuckles. “Those gits will be off in the village. Possibly pestering Lark.” He sends a wink your way.

You shake your head as you look back down at your essay, but there’s an undeniable smile on your face now. Remus sees it as a success. Maybe with a little persuading from him, the others would let Lark know he needed to back off of you and you’d be free from his pursuits.

Come Saturday, you and Remus are back at the same table. Except he’s sitting across from you and reading as opposed to working on his own assignments.

Curious, you ask, “Weren’t you assigned this essay too?”

“Finished it.”

“And you don’t have anything else to work on?”

“No. That’s why I’m reading.” He flourishes his book for emphasis.

“So you gave up going to Hogsmeade for…” Your voice lilts like you’re asking a question.

“To keep you company while you work.”

“I work alone all the time. I’m usually more productive that way.”

“Maybe you just haven’t had company conducive to efficiency.”

“Who talks like that?” you laugh. “Company conducive to efficiency.”

Remus smiles at you and sets his book down. “I’m just saying! Some people are more of a distraction while others let you do your thing. James and Sirius? Distractions. Peter… He goes back and forth between the two.”

“And I suppose you’re conducive for them.”

“Most of the time. Others, I’m as bad as they are.”

He picks his book back up to continue reading and you return to your essay. The library is silent except for the scratching of your quill and the occasional turning of pages by Remus. You sneak a few glances at him when you finish a sentence or a paragraph, and you catch yourself full on staring at him when you finish. As you put your work away, you clear your throat to get his attention.

“I suppose you being here was conducive, but I feel bad that you didn’t go to Hogsmeade.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t. Sometimes I need a break from certain people.”

“Then let me make it up to you. Let’s go to Hogsmeade together tomorrow.” You pause and blush at what you just said. “If you want to, of course, and don’t have anything else planned. I just thought that, because you didn’t go today and tomorrow will be less busy since everyone goes today.” You feel yourself rambling which makes you blush harder.

“Yeah, okay. That’d be nice. Meet you in the Great Hall after breakfast? Or lunch? I’m really okay with either.”

“I’m not a morning person,” you say with a chuckle. “We could get lunch in Hogsmeade?”

“Oh, okay. Then meet by the Grand Entrance around noon?”

“Sounds like a plan, Lupin. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As you walk away from him, he can’t help but smile. This was going better than planned. He didn’t have to ask you out; you asked him. And all he had to do was not be forward about it with you. Now, he just had to work up to kissing you, and then snogging.

You’re more nervous than you expected to be in the morning. You had never been on a date before, and you weren’t even sure if this would count as one. Your roommates were confused as to why you didn’t go to Hogsmeade yesterday with them but were going today.

“It’s just backwards!” one had tried to explain when they heard of your plan. “Everyone goes to Hogsmeade on Saturday and does homework on Sunday!”

“Which leads to Hogsmeade being packed and then the library being packed. It makes sense to go today.”

You purposefully left out that you were meeting Remus and going with him. Just as he hadn’t told his friends that he was making progress with you. For now, until something proper came out of it, this Hogsmeade visit would be something you shared only with each other.

Remus is waiting for you when you finally leave your dorm. The walk to Hogsmeade is quiet. It’s not awkward though. You’re glad he’s not trying to force conversation. You fear that would be more uncomfortable.

“So where do you want to go first?” you ask as you arrive.

“I don’t mind as long as we hit up Honeydukes and Three Broomsticks at some point,” he says with a shrug.

You can’t help but think he looks a bit cute with his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Start at Three Broomsticks then? Get our lunch and go from there?” you suggest.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

As expected, the pub isn’t too busy. You find a table and order food and butterbeers from Rosmerta. Then it’s just the two of you at a table. He asks about your essay that you were working on yesterday and if you think Slughorn will like it. He talks about his own. Conversation covers a lot of school, but then it drifts to your friends and Quidditch. And then to the Marauders and their pranks. Time flies by so quickly. Your plates are emptied quickly and you go through several mugs of butterbeer. You only notice how much time has gone by you glance out the window by chance and the sun is lower in the sky than you had expected.

“Oh! We need to get going if you still want to go to Honeydukes.”

Remus looks to the window and nods. “I didn’t realize the time…”

He waves down Rosmerta and hands her some galleons. You smack his shoulder gently as you exit the pub together.

“You paid? I was the one who invited you to Hogsmeade. I should’ve paid.”

He rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t the guy on a date though?”

You blush, which in turn causes him to blush. So this was a date. And you had initiated.

“Let me pay for your chocolate at least.”

“Oh, don’t go down that road,” he says with a laugh and a wide smile. “You are underestimating how much chocolate I’ll be getting.”

“Galleons worth?”

“Galleons worth.”

“Remus Lupin! That cannot be healthy!”

“‘S not my fault my stash gets raided constantly.”

You laugh. The air is light between you. He really does get several galleons worth of chocolate; you thought he was kidding. You insist on paying for part of it. The owners of Honeydukes patiently wait for you to leave the store before locking the door behind you. The sun is set by the time you’re walking back to Hogwarts. The crescent moon is high in the night sky, bathing the path back to school in a pale light.

When you reach the castle, still standing outside, you say, “This was fun. I’m glad I got to go to Hogsmeade.”

“I’m glad I got to go with you.”

You feel your face heat. The romantic in you tells you, no, begs you to kiss his cheek. Tell him he’s why it was so fun. Talking over butterbeers was your favorite way to pass time and you really enjoyed getting to know him better. But you weren’t so bold.

“Goodnight Remus,” you say before heading inside.

He stood outside for a few minutes longer. He should have kissed your cheek. He was kicking himself for not doing so. But that might have been too bold and risked scaring you off. It was probably for the best that he didn’t. He needed to work up to it. The boys were waiting for him when he returned to his dorm.

“Where have you been all day?” James asks accusingly as soon as Remus walks through the door.

“None of your business, Mum,” Remus says, tossing the Honeydukes bag on his bed.

“Honeydukes?” Peter asks, sitting up. “You went to Hogsmeade? Just now?”

“You went to Hogsmeade without us?” James asks, putting two and two together.

“You went yesterday,” Remus reminds him.

“You chose to stay back. Why go today?”

“Because-” he starts to say.

“You’re working on the bet, aren’t you?” Sirius cuts him off. The smile Sirius was sporting said that he knew he was right.

“Yes.”

James and Peter gasp. Sirius grins wider.

“So you going to tell us how it’s going?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Peter asks with a pout forming on his face.

“You’ll just know when I succeed.”

Sirius rolls his eyes and laughs. “Must be going well if you’re still confident you’re going to succeed.”

---

“Andrew, for the love of Merlin, leave me alone,” you complain on your way to class.

Whatever the Marauders did to him at Hogsmeade wasn’t enough. He seemed more urgent than ever to take you on a date, even with you telling him that you weren’t interested in him in the slightest. He stands in the doorway to your class, which he isn’t in.

“Come on, just one date. It’ll be the best one you’ve ever been on!”

Remus looks up from his conversation with the boys at his desk at Andrew’s voice. He hears you groan.

“Let me into my class!”

Remus is there in a moment.

“Lark, let the lady through,” Remus says firmly.

Andrew spins around in the doorway, still blocking it but now looking at Remus.

��Little Lupin to the rescue? You fancy her or something?”

“Yeah, a bit,” Remus answers, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “Now let her through. I think she’s made her opinions of you quite clear.”

Andrew glances at you over his shoulder.

“Hear that, dove? Lupin likes you.”

“I’d hope so. We went on a date.”

Andrew’s arms fall so he’s not blocking the door as well and Remus pulls you through, which makes Andrew stumble slightly out of the way.

“What do you mean you went on a date?” Andrew asks indignantly. “A date? An actual date? With him?”

“That’s what I said. Care to confirm?” you ask, looking up at Remus, who is still holding your arm.

“Yeah. It was quite lovely. She’s quite lovely.” He looks down at you with a soft smile.

Then without thinking, you lean up and press a chaste kiss to his cheek. Andrew looks ready to scream and a few hollers erupt from behind you. You scan the room for the source. The Marauders. You’re not too surprised at that. Of course Remus’ friends would be watching him as he came to play hero. It’s less than thirty seconds, but by the time you look back over to the door, Andrew has vanished.

“Thanks, Remus,” you breathe.

“Maybe he’ll finally leave you alone, huh?”

“Hope so.”

He walks you to your desk before returning to his own, where James pats him enthusiastically on the back. Throughout the entire lesson, you two are looking over at each other. Most of the time, when one is looking, the other isn’t. You only make eye contact with him once all lesson, which caused both of you to turn a deep shade of crimson.

By the end of the week, Andrew stops asking you out on the daily and appears to be purposefully avoiding you and Remus. You find ways to spend more time with him, scheduling study time in the library and comparing schedules so that you can walk to your classes together. You even join him and his friends for lunch every few days. They were rather shocked the first time, but quickly turned into a welcoming group.

It became obvious to those around you that you were seeing Remus. It came as a surprise to many people, including your friends.

“What do you mean you’re dating Remus Lupin? When do you talk to him?”

“What do you mean you went to Hogsmeade with him? Alone?”

“When did this happen and why didn’t we know about it?”

Excuses of minding your own business and not wanting to count your chickens before they hatched echoed in your dorm. It really had come out of nowhere, but you suppose it was because Remus pursued you in a way that no one else had. He wasn’t putting you on the spot to do the things he wanted and disrupting you when you were clearly busy. He liked to be in your presence and took your opinion into consideration before suggesting things. Even better, he put Andrew Lark in his place.

You were headed to your usual table to meet Remus for a study session; you refused to call them study dates because you knew your mind would say that you can’t be productive on a date. You laugh at your thoughts: dates are not conducive for studying. You hear Remus’ voice as you walk through the shelves, collecting some books you know you need for your Herbology assignment. You stop mid-step when you hear additional voices at your table.

“Have you snogged her yet, Moony?” Sirius asks.

“No, not yet,” he answers with a sigh.

Not yet. You smile.

“Well, could you get on with it? You’ve been spending so much time with her. We need you for this prank.”

“You were the one to suggest the bet. Sorry I’m taking my time.”

“But you’re going to break up with her once you do, right?” Peter asks. “Complete the bet and get out before you catch feelings. That was the point of this.”

You bite your lip, hoping that somehow this wasn’t about you, that maybe Remus had a voice twin and they were talking about the other boy’s girl. You knew that it wasn’t possible, but you had to hope for a moment. But then James spoke.

“Even better, you got Lark off her back so she owes you. She owes you a snog and then you’re free. You’ll have gotten your kiss, Casanova.”

Lark. He had only been after you for a while. And Remus had been the reason he was leaving you alone.

You leave your hiding place within the books, stepping into their line of sight. Remus’ eyes go wide as he sees you. His heart breaks when he sees the tears in your eyes. You had heard and he knew it.

You lock eyes with him and you shake your head. Holding the books close to your chest, you turn to leave the library. How could you work with someone who was only with you to snog you for a bet? A damn bet?

You ignore Remus calling after you. You don’t break into a run; you have too many books in your arms to run, but you’re walking as quickly as you can. From the sound of his footsteps, he is running. Running and calling your name, saying it isn’t what you think. That the boys don’t know what they are talking about. You spin on the spot to glare at him through tears when he finally catches up to you and places a hand on your shoulder.

“Did you or did you not ask to sit at my table in the library because of, of, of that bet?” you spit. It comes out harsh. It was supposed to. You were angry and upset.

“I did, but-”

“There’s no buts about this, Remus,” you say firmly. You’re firm but your voice is laced with sadness and uncertainty. “All of this was because of a bet. And I’m not a bet. So yeah. Go fuck yourself.”

You leave him standing in the corridor. He could’ve followed you. Some part of him knew he should have so that he could explain.

---

You avoid Remus at all costs. He tries to hunt you down in the library, in between classes, in the Great Hall. He’s even taken to sitting outside your dorm. Your roommates step around him, muttering insults. He doesn’t blame them. If it had been anyone else doing this, he would be saying the same insults under his breath to Sirius, James and Peter. He hated himself for agreeing to the stupid bet in the first place. He should have just gone after you on his own terms.

About a week later, you spent all day studying in the library and you were honestly surprised that Remus didn’t show up once. You missed dinner, but you didn’t mind. If you had gone to dinner, you might have run into Remus and if you were safe in the library, you were staying there until you went to bed. Except you ran into Remus while trying to go to bed. He was asleep outside your dorm’s door. You knew you should’ve just gone into your dorm and ignored him, but you were a good person and wouldn’t let him sleep like that all night. You nudge his side gently with your foot.

“Lupin,” you say softly. “Lupin, wake up.”

He stirs, rubbing his eyes. When he sees that you’re the one who woke up and not some disgruntled prefect, he jumps to his feet and hugs you. You make a startled noise at the hug.

“Please, let me explain,” he whispers.

“You have five minutes. Then I’m going to bed.”

“Okay, thank you,” he says quickly. “Thank you. Okay, so yes, it did start as a bet.”

You groan and reach for the doorknob. He puts his hand on top of yours to stop it from turning.

“I have four minutes and thirty seconds,” he says, causing you to roll your eyes. “A bet that I couldn’t get a girl and snog her. I accepted because Sirius was being rude. Stupid, I know. But please, please, please believe me when I say the bet stopped being relevant the moment you agreed that I could keep you company in the library while you worked on your Potions essay. I wasn’t doing it just to snog you and prove to the boys that I really could get a girl.”

“And I should believe you because?”

“Because if it was just for a bet, I would’ve kissed you when we got back from Hogsmeade the first time. I would’ve snogged you in front of Andrew and the boys. Just to prove that I could do it. I would’ve been done.” He pauses, trying to read the expression on your face. “I’ve been spending so much time with you because I genuinely like you so much. I like being your boyfriend. I like being around you. I like making you smile. I like making you laugh. Yes, I’d like to snog you very much. But not for a bet. I want to snog you to feel your lips against mine. I like studying with you, I like paying for your butterbeers. I like walking around with you. I like when you hang out with my friends. I’d like to hang out with your friends.”

He pauses his ramblings to catch his breath briefly.

“That is, if you’ll forgive me for even partaking in this stupid goddamn bet. And you somehow convince your friends to forgive me too.”

You cross your arms and lean against the doorframe. You take in Remus’ appearance. You’re used to him looking perpetually tired, but he looks exhausted, so much worse for wear than usual. His hair is a mess and clothes uncharacteristically rumpled. His expression is so genuine and sad, practically begging you to understand how much he cares for you.

“Please. I know you’re more than a bet. So much more. The only good thing about the bet is that it actually got me to get close to you.”

“I’ll forgive you under one condition,” you say.

His face lights up and he takes a step toward you.

“Anything. You name it and it’s done.”

You smirk. “When you do snog me, please do it in front of Lark. A little revenge on that sorry bastard.”

Remus smiles widely and nods. Then he places a gentle kiss on your lips. It only lasts a second, over as soon as it began.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He gives you an identical kiss. “One snog in front of Lark coming up.”

#marauders fic #marauders #marauder-misprint #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #request #remus lupin

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meelusinee · 1 day ago

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YOUR SECRET SANTA 𖤐 S.B X READER

in which your sirius’ secret santa for the year (and you also have a hugemungus introvert crush on him)

pairing: sirius black x potter!reader tags: christmas fluff! word count: 3k warnings: just fluff, yet again

author's note: AN UPDATE: I FIXED THE WHOLE COPY ISSUE IM SO SORRY YAWL my tumblr copied it twice and really weirdly for some reason??? anyways, i have very quickly learned that sirius’ energy is very hard to capture at 3-5am in the morning after studying for psych finals BUT oh my gawd i could not not post this. so just imagine that your like the fire to melt sirius’ sugary heart and that he’s super soft and sweet with you okay

SECRET SANTA | S.B X READER

You haven’t had this much fun in a long time.

It had been a long day for you, full of studying and reading up on topics for exams. You had tutoring lessons to get to tomorrow, along with three extra classes to get to.

Studying, however, was apparently not allowed. At least, that’s what Lily must’ve thought as she dragged you to the Gryffindor Common Room with her. Her friends were sitting around the fireplace, Marlene practically laid on Dorcas’ lap like a cat. Mary was sick, currently locked up in her room.

Remus sat closest to the fireplace in a single arm chair, reading a rather large tome. You sighed internally, the sight of the book reminding you of the studies you should be committing yourself to right now. James and Sirius were sitting on the largest sofa near the couch, Peter spread out on the floor with his hands crossed on his stomach.

“Bambi!” James called out, standing up dramatically to pull you in a hug. “Oh, I’ve missed you! You’ve been locked up forever, you know? Your studies have kidnapped you.”

“Oh hush,” you chuckled, a small squeaking sound escaping your throat as he pulled you to sit down between him and Sirius.

“Hi Sirius,” you smiled softly as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, leaning your head on his shoulder. He was always rather warm, no matter what the conditions were.

“Hi there, faon.” he whispered. Lily always liked to point out that he calmed down significantly around you, especially in the recent years.

“So,” Lily said ominously, standing on one of the coffee tables with a wide smirk. She had really been shining recently, through her friends and her studies. “We’re going to do Secret Santa this year!”

“Secret Santa?” Sirius asked confusedly, tilting his head to the side slightly. “What’s that?”

“You put your names in a bucket, kind of like the TriWizard Tournament,” Remus began to explain to them, closing his book after bookmarking it. “Everyone picks a name, and you have to get a present for the person.”

“So it’s randomized?” Marlene asked Remus, smiling brightly at that. “If I get James, I’m giving him a stink bomb!”

“No you won’t!” James said dramatically, clutching his chest. “That’s so wrong of you!”

“Hush, everyone.” Lily said, pulling out a metal bucket. “Now put your names in here.”

You chuckled quietly at her directness, watching as everyone else grabbed a small ticket and wrote their names down. Sirius grabbed you a ticket and pen, letting you write your name down before he put it in the bin for you.

Lily hummed softly once everyone put their names in, shaking the bucket before putting it down on the table. “Now, you have to remember,” she said to them, wagging her finger. “You can’t say who you got. That’s what makes it a secret.”

“So no tattle-tailing?” Peter said, a small pout in his voice as he sat up to pick a name. “Aw man.”

“It’s fine, Pete.” James smiled, ruffling his hair.

You looked around the room as everyone made a small yet somewhat line to get their names. Sirius grabbed you a name along with his, holding his name away from your vision with a small smirk.

“You’re ridiculous.” you chuckled, opening your name. It was a fancy cursive you almost couldn’t read, the S extremely dramatic. Sirius Black.

“Do we have to get something specific?” you asked curiously, closing the small slip before James could look over your shoulder. “Like something comfortable, or something school related?”

“Nothing specific, just whatever would suit them best.” Lily said, closing her flap as she sat down next to James.

You nodded at that, looking down at the flap. You really needed to brainstorm.

It had been a couple of days since you had gotten Sirius’ name in the Secret Santa bin, your mind running haywire with gift ideas. You had tried to study for your final exams, but you haven’t truly been able to focus on it at all.

So you tried to examine what to get him instead.

Sirius Black, while practically estranged from his family, still had access to a bunch of money. He had steadily built himself a fund of galleons over the years ever since he was in Third Year, opening a small bank account in Gringotts in order to save himself money. Which meant that he didn’t need anything material.

You knew that he loved the color red. He loved messy, though he also loved fancy and neat. Whatever it was that you were going to get him, it was going to be something custom.

Lily had invited you shopping with her, both of you heading to the Hogsmeade shops for present ideas. Snow was falling on the both of you, scarves wrapped around your necks and mouths.

“Who’d you get?” she asked curiously.

You looked at her confusedly, eyebrows furrowing at her question. “I thought you weren’t meant to tell.” you muttered to her.

“Well, if you have me, probably not.” she shrugged, smirking softly. “But I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

You nodded before looking down at the floor, still not sure what to even get. “I got Sirius.”

Lily gasped, jumping up and down excitedly. “I got James! Maybe we can get them something to match, I bet they’d love that.”

You nodded slowly at that, looking through the closest shop windows.

It was a cute charm shop, currently filled with Christmas themed things. There was different kinds of candies, candy canes and peppermints displayed at the center.

“Do you see that?” you asked, pointing at the window. “Those charms are cute.”

Lily looked over at what you were looking at. The window had a small poster on one of the panels, promoting an animal charm with star charms stamped out of the metal. “We could get a deer and a dog charm!”

You smiled softly at the idea, both of you walking inside of the store. Lily walked around the store excitedly, picking up all sorts of trinkets and small gifts for Secret Santa and regular Christmas presents. You were looking at the charms still, the gears in your mind turning.

The dog charm would be custom made, potentially gold if you were lucky. You could most likely get a roll of wrapping paper to match it. A small present wrapped with a red bow and peppermint, all with a small charm attached to it.

The idea was custom, something that was cute and made just for Sirius. A cute wrapping that fed into his Gryffindor ego, and something one couldn’t exactly buy at a store.

And that thought got you thinking.

You began walking around the store, looking at gift ideas for Sirius. At first, nothing was sticking out. That was until you stumbled on the journal section.

They were regular journals, though you quickly figured that you could decorate it. You bought a new pen as well, along with small lace rolls and small sheets of paper to decorate it.

You also bought a small box to wrap it in when you were done, meeting up with Lily outside. She had about three big bags, contrasting heavily with your single small bag.

“What’d you get?” she asked excitedly.

You smiled softly, feeling the Christmas spirit absolutely radiating off of her. “You’ll see.”

You were sitting in your dorm room with Mary, who was still sick from a flu that she had gotten. She was sitting a bit away from you, but you decided to let her watch you make your present for Sirius.

“Thanks for letting me watch.” Mary whispered, her voice hoarse from the flu. “Really, Y/N.”

“You’re welcome.” you smiled softly, your pen nib rubbing against the paper as words formed on the pages. You had been obsessively writing in the journal for days at this point, rewriting letters you had secretly written for him down from memory.

When you first met Sirius, you were in your First Year while he was in his Second Year. You went on the train along with James, sitting down in the corner of the compartment.

The memory is still vivid in your mind, the way he sat down next to you and asked about the book you were reading. He was probably trying to impress you was what James and Remus had told you, he wanted to make a good impression on someone so close to James after all. But you still enjoyed it. And he stayed quiet and calm with you, even to this day.

You remember your first birthday with him, how he got you your favorite author’s novels all hand signed. He had said that the present was a casual present for him to get, but you had been moved to tears almost instantly. You remember his first birthday with you as well, his only request being that he was able to hang out with his friends. He didn’t want any presents that year, the only gift he got being a sweater that your mother made for him.

Suffice to say, you had a lot of memories with him. And you liked to journal them all, a mix between day to day entries, memoir-like posts, or poems. Some were embarrassing, sure, but you planned on putting them in anyways.

“Who’s the journal for anyways?” Mary asked curiously, leaning forward.

“It’s for Sirius.” you whispered quietly, somewhat wishing that you didn’t have to say it. God forbid that she say that the journal was a bad idea, especially when you were already halfway through.

“Sirius?” she asked. “You actually got a gift idea?”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

Mary chuckled, but that quickly turned into a coughing fit. “I tried to get him a good present for his birthday last year, but nothing worked.” she explained, taking a sip of water. “I mean, what do you give a man who has everything?”

“Uh,” you mumbled, looking down at your lap. “Something of yours that he wouldn’t have?”

“Like a whole journal’s worth of handwriting samples?” she joked, smiling tiredly.

You chuckled softly at that, gently nudging her with your elbow as you continued to write in the journal. You were somewhat near the end, about one fourth of it left to go.

“It’s time to give out the presents!” Lily said, ringing a small bell in her hands as everyone gathered around the fireplace.

You were standing by Remus in the back, both of you holding cups of hot chocolate in your hands.

“Who’d you get?” he asked curiously.

“I got Sirius.” you mumbled, taking a sip of the hot chocolate before pointing to your present underneath the tree. “The one with the red bow and peppermint. Who did you get?”

“Lily.” he nodded, taking a sip of his own drink. “She’s been wanting to check out this one author, but his books are pricey. So I bought her a small starter set of his books.”

“That’s a good present.” you whispered softly.

Remus nodded, chuckling softly. “I also got her a book on Quidditch I told her to hide, that way she could impress James. Could you imagine the expression on his face when she starts talking about Quidditch?”

“Oh, it’d be priceless.” you chuckled, already imagining the expression on his face.

“I know.” he chuckled, turning to you with a curious expression. “What’d you get Sirius?”

“Me?” you asked, clearing your throat. “I got him a journal.” you said awkwardly.

He nodded, not pushing any further. The bell rang again, Lily’s voice calling out to you both a bit impatiently. “Get over here you two!”

Remus chuckled softly as he sat by the fireplace, you taking your spot next to Sirius. Your head found its way to his shoulder as the presents magically sorted themselves, yours landing neatly right in front of you.

It was a stack of boxes that had an ornate wrapping with a pure silk ribbon of your favorite color, a small chocolate hanging off the bow.

You could tell immediately that it was Sirius’ gift.

“Sirius.” you chuckled softly, your hands pausing as they moved to unwrap the presents. You didn’t want to mess it up, especially since it looked so expensive. No doubt he spent hours on it.

“You can open it anytime you want.” he chuckled softly at you, hand resting behind you as he leaned back just a bit. “I don’t mind if you rip it.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, looking over at him confusedly. “It looks so, like, effort-y.”

“Effort-y?” he chuckled, barking out a laugh.

“Like you put in effort!” you said, giggling softly at his teasing as your hands eventually moved to the bow. “This silk is so soft.”

“It is.” he said, a small smile resting on his face.

You opened the box at the top first. It was a vintage necklace wrapped in a heart-shaped box, a small flower detail painted on it.

“This is,” you whispered, looking at him as you held it in his hands. It was pure metal, you already knew, most likely costing hundreds of Galleons. “Sirius, this is so pretty.”

“It reminded me of you.” Sirius whispered, holding out his hands so he could put it on you. “A lot of things do, to be fair.”

You chuckled wetly at that, sniffling as you pulled your hair up so he could clasp it around your neck. You felt like you were the only two people in the room, everything fading out in the background.

“You have two more to open.” he whispered, putting your hair back in place.

“Okay.” you whispered, opening the first one. It was copies of novels you had mentioned over the past year, some of them you mentioned over six months ago. “Sirius,”

“I felt you’d still want to read them.” he smiled softly, hand caressing your back. “I had Mary tell me if you had them in your room, used cough drops as a bribery.”

“Using a woman’s sickness to your advantage in Secret Santa?” you asked him with a small smile.

He winked at you, putting the last box in front of your lap. It was arguably rather large. “Open it.”

Your hands tore into this one, a gasp escaping your mouth as you saw it. It was a sweater, obviously hand-knit. “Sirius, where did you buy this?”

“Made.” he whispered, chuckling at the shock on your face. “I took small classes with your mom, she helped me make it for you. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you, honestly.”

“You,” you whispered, looking at him incredulously as you felt tears come to your eyes. “You are absolutely ridiculous, you know that?”

“Only for you.” he winked dramatically, looking down at the box in front of him. “Now, I assume that this is from you, right?”

“Uh,” you whispered, nodding. “Yeah, it is.”

He smiled brightly, opening the present carefully before gasping. “A journal?”

“It’s something that a man who has everything wouldn’t have.” you whispered anxiously, fidgeting with your nail beds.

Sirius’ eyes darted over the journal, opening it to look at the different pages. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped slightly, small tears coming to his eyes as he read the introduction.

“Do you like it?” you asked anxiously.

“Y/N, this is,” he whispered, a wet laugh escaping his throat. “The best present I’ve ever gotten.”

You sighed softly at that, smiling as he closed the journal and looked up at you. You squeaked softly as he pulled you into a hug, wrapping your arms back around him.

“Godric, I love you.” he whispered.

“Y/N!”

You turned around to find Sirius walking up to you, the rain outside becoming background noise the closer that he came to you.

“Sirius?” you asked, pulling your jacket further around yourself. It was cold in the library.

“I love you.”

Those words both broke and caused a silence you weren’t sure if you liked or not. He loved you? What did that even mean? Was it platonic or romantic? Who randomly walks up to someone proclaiming their love, in a library near closing?

Sirius, apparently.

“You what?” you asked confusedly.

“I love you.” he said, walking forward and taking your hands in his. “I mean, like, romantically. I read your journal twice now. And I can’t just not tell you anymore, you mean too much to hide it.”

“You love me?” you asked incredulously.

Sirius nodded softly, squeezing your hand anxiously as he looked up at you. “Do you?”

“Do I?” you asked him.

“Love me back?” he asked.

You looked at him incredulously, as if the idea was almost impossible. In a sense, it really was. How could you not love him?

“I do.” you whispered. You giggled quietly at his sigh of relief, a sound of surprise coming out of your throat as his lips met yours. They molded together perfectly, like two magnets made just to connect to one another.

You smiled softly, watching him run off with an excited smile before coming back. But then he did it again, running joyful laps around the library to get his excitement out.

“Does this mean you’ll be my wife?” he asked.

“Maybe not yet,” you chuckled at his dramatics. “But maybe we can start with dating.”

He smiled even brighter at that, continuing his laps before coming back for a kiss. You kissed him like you breathed, it came so easily to you.

You two eventually broke apart, a large laugh escaping your mouth as he squeezed you into a hug that got tighter by the minute. You weren’t sure anything could hold tighter.

That was until you two got interrupted.

“Pads, what the fuck?” James asked, both of you turning around with small smiles and an embarrassed flush.

“I’ll see you later.” he whispered, giving you a soft peck before running out the opposite direction.

“You won’t be seeing shit tomorrow morning!” James yelled, running after him.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

PHEW this was a LONG ONE let me tell you BUT!!!!!!!! i got it out of my system, i can finally rest and go to bed and sleep and slumber, all of those glory dory things that people do

it's probably not the most realistic sirius depiction out there but i really like the idea of soft sirius okay guys >:( u can pry my boy out of my cold and dead hands when i DECEASE okay, i love soft sirius.

AS ALWAYS, please like, comment, and reblog! it means the absolute world to me yawl dont understand unless u do then u do but anyways HAVE A GOOD DAY LOVELIESSS

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sleepyparalysisdmon · 2 days ago

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The Third Love

Yunho x female reader Requested? Yes! Request: ‘friends to lovers ateez yunho fic 🥺💞’ Word count: 4k

The Three Love Theory The first love: the one that teaches you what love even is. The second love: the hard love, the one that teaches you a lot of lessons. The third love: the unexpected love, the one that’s meant to last.

Yunho doesn’t know if he believes in love.

He sees it and hears about it all the time. It’s a couple on the street that look totally head over heels for each other. Or it’s one of his friends wearing a dopey, lovesick expression after a date or simply receiving a text. Or it’s the hundreds of romcoms out there that were surely inspired by something real. He knows others feel it. But every run-in he’s had with love has left him feeling bitter and perhaps sometimes a little more hollow than when he started.

He met you four years ago. You’re a hopeless romantic and love the idea of dating. He thinks that’s probably one of the reasons why you and San get along so well sometimes - it’s your shared love for love. San has known you for a long time but sort of lost contact when he left home to pursue being an idol.

Then, one day San was overjoyed to find out that you’d taken a job here in Seoul and he couldn’t wait to reconnect and introduce you to his group members that had become a sort of family away from home. Yunho felt the stirring of something right away when he met you, but couldn’t quite put a name to it.

You became a fixture in the dorms quickly. There were many nights that they’d come home from a late practice or recording and find you on the couch with some snacks having made yourself comfortable while waiting for them. Not a single one of them would ever say anything about it, typically joining you to unwind.

On one of these occasions, the topic had turned to dating. Mingi was recovering about a recent breakup, one that had hurt quite a bit. You’d simply said, “it’s a second love then.” You’d been met with quite a few questioning glances and you explained.

The first love was ideal. It’s the one that you get swept up in fast by, and it might fizzle out just as fast but you’ll never forget it because it’s your first.

The second is the hard love. The one that you come away from learning a lot about yourself and others. It’ll hurt, but you’ll be better for it in the long run. You say this breakup is Mingi’s hard love. The acknowledgment, or maybe even just being to put a name to it as if it’s a universal experience, seems to make Mingi feel better and that was really the whole point of the conversation.

You sigh and shrug about the third when asked. You say it’s supposedly the unexpected love. The one you didn’t realize you needed and it’s usually the one that lasts. You even look a little perplexed at the thought, because how do you find something unexpected?

Yunho’s in the same boat as you. You can’t go looking for unexpected. You have to wait for it to find you.

Yunho knows you for only a couple years before it clicks. You hadn’t dated much before moving to Seoul. There were a few ‘super casual’ boyfriends as you call them - guys that asked you out and were nice enough, but you didn’t feel much for them. You’d agreed to the dates that you went on because there was no reason not to, but you didn't feel any particular way about things not working out.

Your first love comes in the form of a guy named Junseo. He’s a new coworker of yours and Yunho distinctly remembers how giddy you were to tell San about him the day you met him. The next week, you’re even more excited to tell him that Junseo asked you out on a date.

Yunho thinks he’s never seen you so happy, and San even agrees, at least when it comes to dating. It’s confirmed when you say that it’s never felt like this. You’re absolutely starry-eyed about everything Junseo does - the simple dates, the flowers, the gentlemanly behavior, the sex and intimacy.

You don’t talk about that last part very much, but it’s something the boys tease you about, if only because of how you flush at the mention. Your mood can’t be dampened though, not even when Jongho rolls his eyes and says something like, “yes, he’s supposed to do all of that.”

But your mood does eventually dampen. When asked you shrug it off at first, but the boys press the issue. Junseo is distant lately. You don’t see him much anymore, not even around the office, and some of that effort has began to dwindle. The helpless look in your eyes tugs at Yunho’s heart strings, like you’re watching things slip through your fingers and can’t do anything to stop it. He enjoyed seeing you happy, even if there was some unknown conflict brewing inside of him sometimes.

Then came the fateful day, you came over to the dorms, clearly upset. Junseo had gotten another job in another city and would be moving promptly. You said he apologized for the surprise, but he didn’t want to discuss it with you without some solid plans. This lights a fire under Yunho, as well as a few other members, because it sure sounds like he held onto that information so he could hang on to you in case this job fell through.

San simply bundles you up in a blanket on the couch and feeds you ice cream while a romcom plays on the TV. Yunho simmers in anger that he can’t quite decipher all night.

Your second love comes in the form of a guy named Siwoo. Even Yunho thinks he's pretty charming the few times he's met him. In private, you admit that you think he’s the third love because of how he seemed to come out of thin air and he’s kind of everything you ever wanted.

You met him at the florist. He was there picking up flowers for his mother and immediately introduced himself and asked to get to know you. You were starry-eyed for everything about him too, but the more the boys heard about him, the more they weren’t sure about this.

He worked crazy hours for an office employee and the most convenient time for you to see him was late at night. He’d come to your apartment in a suit and tie, and it was convincing. But at best, he was a workaholic that needed to take a vacation or two and leave at 5pm like most people, and at worst, he was doing something else with his time before he called you just before midnight a few times a week.

Then there were the crazy amount of business trips. He’d disappear for weeks at a time, claiming to be super busy and unable to even send a text, only to reappear like there hadn’t just been radio silence. You defend him, claiming he’s just incredibly hard working. But within the group (and not around you), the boys debated if this was a red flag disguised as a hardworking nature. Yeosang argued that while he still wasn’t crazy about Siwoo, Ateez themselves kept some crazy schedules. Was that a red flag too? Wooyoung countered that as busy as he was, his phone was on him nearly 24/7 and he had moments to send a ‘Hi, how’s your day’ text at the very least, so to him it was a red flag. The group was divided on this.

And it should have been a red flag. The rest of the boys were busy and you and Yunho went out to grab some dinner. And who would you see but Siwoo?

But he’s with another woman, who’s wearing a big, sparkly ring and looks totally in love. They’re obviously on a date, and it’s not a new thing, judging by how he's wearing a ring too.

Yunho gets your food to go and lets you cry in the car. You say between sobs that he was supposed to be in Japan. And now you’re coming to terms as you let out a seemingly never ending steam of tears that you were a fool. The late night visits must have been him sneaking away from his partner. The long business trips were more than likely him having prior commitments with his partner and the radio silence was him attempting not to get caught. And those flowers he was buying when you met him? Probably not for his mother at all now that you think about it.

Yunho lets you lean into him and cry for what feels like hours. At one point, he even pulls you half into his lap, if only because your sobs seem to ease the closer he holds you as he rubs your back soothingly. He hates it. And he hates Siwoo.

But this is when two things click. Siwoo is your second love - the hard love that comes with lessons, and perhaps some trust issues in the future. Not the third love that you hoped he’d be.

And Yunho can identify his feelings swirling in his gut now. It’s love, but to what degree and of which kind he’s not certain. And perhaps a little bit of jealousy is swirling too.

You take a while to get over Siwoo. After you cried in his car, Yunho took you back to the blessedly empty dorm and helped you craft a breakup text between bites of reheated food, complete with the news that you know he’s been two-timing (or more, but it’s not worth finding out). Then you block him. You cry some more that night and your mood is impacted for weeks.

You ask Yunho to not tell the whole story to the boys, lest they be out for blood. Yunho raises an eyebrow at you because he’s out for blood, but eventually relents, sticking to the story that you feed the others. It wasn’t going to work out and that’s all Yunho knows. That doesn’t stop the boys, particularly San, from pressing Yunho about it individually, since this breakup appeared to happen overnight while Yunho was with you. Yunho keeps his promise, though he’s still bitter about how things went for you and would love nothing more than to start an angry mob on your behalf.

The surprise for Yunho is that his group members’ looks turn sly the moment your mood seems to lift. You leave the room and Wooyoung is pinning him with a look. “So, how long have you been into her?”

Yunho plays dumb. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“I mean that you guys have gotten exceptionally close since she broke up with that demon,” Wooyoung says. They don’t dare utter Siwoo’s name in the dorms or around you. It’s not just because of what your reaction might be. It’s on sight for any of them if they ever run into Siwoo, even if they don’t all know the whole story. You were hurt and that was all that mattered to them.

Wooyoung continues, “You guys spend a lot of time together now, that’s all.” Wooyoung tries to seem innocent with this observation, but Yunho recognizes the mischief in his friend’s eyes.

Yunho raises an eyebrow. “You spend just as much time with her. Are you into her?”

Wooyoung shrugs casually. “Sure, I’d date her. But I won’t step on your toes, don’t worry.” He looks so smug as the conversation shifts when you come back into the room.

Yunho wonders how transparent he is. And maybe what they’re actually seeing, because he has no idea what it looks like on the surface. He can barely define what’s below the surface.

Things keep shifting, or at least they do for Yunho. He is closer with you, not just in how much you both talk and spend time together, but physically as well. It happens so gradually that he barely realizes it happened.

You go out with the boys to a club or bar, and he’s the one you hook your hand with to make sure you both stay with the group.

You’ve basically claimed his passenger seat, and he doesn’t think anything of it to send his group members to the backseat. It starts as a ‘ladies, first’ sort of thing, but your name might as well be on the seat because he starts to feel weird about anyone else being in it.

If you need to get something off a high shelf, he’s the first one you look at. Not that it matters, because he’s already approaching before you even look at him. He also doesn’t think anything of coming up behind you and placing a hand on your hip or waist as he gets what you need, his front pressed against your back. He really doesn’t mean anything by it, he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it most of the time because it feels so natural.

And he really doesn’t mean anything by it when the group is piled up in one of the dorm living rooms to watch a movie or play a video game and he pulls you into his lap to keep you from sitting on the floor. His hands find your hips and pull you down, arms folding around your waist when you fall into him. It happens in the blink of an eye.

He doesn’t realize right away that he does any of this 99% of the time, and you show next to no reaction so he doesn’t think you realize either. But his group members do. What tips him off about how often these little things happen is the look his group members give him. He pulls you into his lap at the table when they’ve ran out of seats and Hongjoong is smiling and raising an eyebrow at him. Or he kicks Wooyoung to the back seat of his car and Wooyoung playfully rolls his eyes and mumbles something about preferential treatment. Or when you don’t think anything of sleeping over in Yunho’s bed with him, Seonghwa kind of looks like he might be planning a wedding.

Once Yunho realizes where things are going, it petrifies him. He doesn’t want to be another first or second love for you. And he wonders what kind of love you’d be for him, because he’s been burned too. He’s not sure if he even wants to cross that boundary at all and risk the friendship you two have built. But he’s helpless to stop the way things are going now as the lines get a little blurrier with each passing day.

San is the one to truly corner him about it. “What’s happening with you and Y/N?”

Yunho raises an eyebrow. “Nothing? We’re friends.”

San narrows his eyes, nodding, though Yunho thinks it’s probably not out of agreement. San points to himself. “I’m friends with her. And I recognize that I’m pretty touchy. But there’s a whole new level to what’s going on with you guys.” Yunho stares, not really sure what to say. San purses his lips. “You know, I’d be fine with it, right? Not that I think you care much about approval, but we’d all be happy. Thrilled, really.”

“But why?” Yunho finds himself asking, even though questioning at all would make him run the risk of being found out.

“Because it’s unexpected,” San shrugs. Yunho gives him a blank look and San rolls his eyes. “The three love theory. It’s unexpected for both of you, obviously, because you guys don’t even realize that you already act like a couple.”

Yunho shrugs and says he doesn’t know, which is the only genuine answer he has.

The thing is, once he sees it, he can’t unsee it. It starts to eat him alive when he realizes how often his fingers twitch to reach out to you. Or how he’s always got you in his periphery, even if you aren’t the center of attention in the conversation. Or how he just assumes you both have plans when he’s free, and feels let down if you have prior commitments.

For a while, there’s a suffocating element to it - this drive of unknown origin to be attached to you 24/7. Yunho’s a friendly, social person, but even he likes his space sometimes, and you are the biggest exception to the rule that he’s ever ran into.

But then, he notices how it’s you that initiates things too. You’re the one that grabs his hand in a crowd. You’re the one that looks to him for help with something. You’re the one that asks for rides places.

And like tonight during game night and the dorm, you’re the one to wedge yourself in between Yunho and Mingi's seats and fall into Yunho’s lap. He lets you, because of course he does. His fingers were itching for that spot on your hips to pull you in anyway.

You’ve warned that you’ve had a long day and are pretty tired. So it’s not a surprise to anyone when you tap out of the next round at some point. It is somewhat of a surprise at how you curl up into Yunho’s chest. He plays a couple more rounds before tapping out as well and sitting back. You’re out like a light, unaware of any game night chaos happening around you.

Hongjoong is giving him a look. Most of his group members not engrossed in the game are. “This is getting out of hand,” Hongjoong teases.

“What is?” Yunho plays dumb, far more aware of what this might look like than he ever has been before.

Hongjoong gives him an unimpressed look. “You’re not doing yourself any favors by dodging this. You need to start being honest.”

He feels all eyes on him besides yours now, game forgotten. “You guys are so nosy,” Yunho admonishes, though it does little good.

“Remember what I said,” San muses before moving on to another topic.

Yunho eventually carries you to bed and settles you in under the covers. He does remember what San said, but while lying next to you in bed, he’s not sure what to do with that. He lets you curl up into his side and is helpless to doze off before he figures it out.

Perhaps he might never figure it out.

You’ve met somebody.

Ryung is a guy you met on a dating app. Yunho is a little bit crushed to find out that you downloaded them in the first place but knows he has no room to say anything, so he bites his tongue.

He doesn’t miss the look at his group members give him here and there as you tell them about how you matched with Ryung and had been messaging with him for a few days now. He bites his tongue about that as well. You’ve taken your time getting past Siwoo, and it was only a matter of time before someone else would come along and show interest.

Ryung is trying to meet up - for a date, for a coffee, for a hookup, you aren’t totally sure, which is why you haven’t committed to anything yet. You say there’s some security in just sticking to messages and sort of getting to know each other right now. Yunho swallows harshly because what’s not secure about him? Right here. Sitting next to you.

You don’t notice that Yunho’s not said much tonight until it’s time for bed. He doesn’t say anything as you both go to his room and get ready to settle in, and you ask him if he’s okay. He says ‘of course’.

Yunho lays in bed next to you and lets you curl into his side like you always do, arm wrapped around you. It feels like he has to say something, so he tries to be casual. “I didn’t know you were on dating apps.”

You grip his t-shirt a little bit. “I wasn’t until recently. One of my coworkers encouraged it, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt.”

Yunho hums. He supposes it doesn’t hurt if you aren’t him. “Going on a date then?”

You shrug against him. “I don’t know. Do you think I should?”

He doesn’t know why this question, out of all things you two have ever said or done, feels like standing at a precipice. It’s so risky to say anything besides, “yes, of course,” but he feels like he’s about to burst.

“Selfishly?” He hesitates. You lift your head up to look at him and he’s helpless to not meet your eyes. “No. I wish you wouldn’t.”

You look confused, but perhaps not as confused as he expected you to be. Maybe you realized how things had shifted lately too. “Selfishly?” Yunho just nods, combing back your hair. “Why?”

Yunho likes to think he’s pretty brave, and perhaps even a little reckless sometimes, but this might even be too much for him. His mouth feels a little thick when he admits, “I don’t really like to watch you date other people. I wish it was me.”

Your eyes flare incrementally. You place your hand against his cheek and the whole thing is sickeningly sweet in a way that Yunho isn’t familiar with. “How long have you felt this way?”

Yunho shrugs. “I’m not sure, really. It kind of crept up on me.”

You give him a little smile. “Me too.”

Like a lot of things with you, Yunho is helpless, so he leans in and slowly kisses you. It’s something he gets lost in, especially when you kiss him back. He only stops when he’s breathless.

You sigh deeply against his lips. “What now?”

“Delete your dating apps. I’m taking you out tomorrow.”

You smile, rolling to grab your phone, unlocking it and handing it to him. “You do the honors.”

And what an honor it is to hit the little X on each of those apps.

You and Yunho try to be discreet at first. On the surface, not a lot changes in front of the group members. But the thing is, there’s no such thing as privacy in the dorm.

Yunho has you in his lap and he’s been kissing you for what feels like hours and hopes there’s no end in sight. He could spend the rest of his life like this.

The end in sight is Mingi barging into the room. You pull back from Yunho at the intrusion, but to his relief don’t try to scramble off of him or anything. You both pin Mingi with a look of irritation, though it doesn’t matter because Mingi is reeling back out of the room with his eyes covered, slamming the door behind him. Screams echo behind him.

You give Yunho a mildly entertained look from where you’re perched on his lap, hands clasping his shoulders. “I guess the secret's out.”

Yunho laughs, fingers gliding up and down your back. “I’m not sure how much of a secret it was to begin with, baby.”

You laugh and lean into his lips again, but it’s interrupted by the loud announcement from the other room. Now the whole group must know. They’re cheering. Yunho stands up, placing you on the ground and walking to the bedroom door. “Are we facing the music now?” You tease, wondering if you should follow him.

Yunho snorts, flipping the lock and coming back to you. “Not a chance.” As you giggle against his lips, he does think he believes in love now.

#yunho #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #Jeong yunho x reader #ateez #atz #ateez x reader #atz x reader #ateez imagines #atz imagines

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scarletwinterxx · 2 days ago

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ddaddu series #1 - choi seungcheol dadverse au

hellooo ~ i said i think a week ago i wrote a new dad fic... and yes it's w the one and the only choi seungcheol😅 he's just screaaams dad girl so here we are. this is definetely one of longest i've written in a while. I was up all night and it took a few days to finish all of this so i hope you like it! and let me know if i should make more....

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pic not mine, credits to rightful owner)

Seungcheol burst through your front door, not even bothering to knock, looking slightly frazzled and out of breath. You were sitting on the living room floor with Areum, helping her color in a princess-themed coloring book, when he made his dramatic entrance.

"What's going on?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as Areum looked up, wide-eyed at her dad's sudden arrival.

"Daddy!" Areum exclaimed, abandoning her crayons and running over to hug him. He scooped her up with a brief smile but quickly turned his attention to you.

"I need your help," he said, his voice low and urgent.

You blinked, confused by his tone. "Help with what? Are you in trouble?"

"Yes," he replied immediately, setting Areum back down and stepping closer to you. "Big trouble. The boys are trying to set me up on a blind date, and I need an alibi."

"So, let me get this straight. Your *big trouble* is a blind date?" you stared at him for a moment, your lips twitching as you try not to laugh

"It's not funny," he protested, running a hand through his hair "Jeonghan and Joshua have been hounding me about it for weeks, and now they've gone and actually arranged something. They told the girl I was available. *Available!* Can you believe that?"

"Well..." you started, unable to keep the teasing tone out of your voice. "You *are* technically available, Seungcheol. You're single, remember?"

He narrowed his eyes at you, clearly unamused. "That's not the point. I don't want to go."

"Then just say no?" you suggested, shrugging

"They won’t take no for an answer! They’ll guilt-trip me into going somehow. You know how they are." He sighed, flopping onto your couch like a man defeated. "That's why I need you to help me. Pretend I’m busy. Say we’ve got plans. Something—anything—to get me out of this."

"And why would I do that?" confused, you ask him

"Because..." He paused, looking genuinely desperate now. "You’re my only hope."

Before you could respond, Areum piped up, her little voice curious. "Daddy, what's a 'blind date'?"

Seungcheol winced, glancing at you for help. You smirked, not about to let him off the hook that easily. "Oh, it's when someone goes out with a stranger to see if they like each other," you explained casually. "Your dad's friends think he needs a girlfriend."

Areum's eyes went wide. "A girlfriend? But Daddy doesn't need a girlfriend. He has Mommy!"

Both you and Seungcheol froze at her innocent declaration, and then your cheeks flushed. You quickly looked away, focusing on the coloring book in front of you.

Seungcheol, on the other hand, seemed to perk up at Areum’s words.

"See?" he said, pointing at her as if she'd just made his case. "Even Areum agrees. I don’t need a girlfriend." as if his five year old's daughter is the only thing making sense right now.

You rolled your eyes, fighting a smile.

"Fine," you relented. "What exactly do you want me to say to get you out of this?"

"Anything!" he said quickly, leaning forward. "Just tell them we’re doing something together this weekend. A family thing. They'll back off if they think I'm spending time with you and Areum."

"You're so dramatic," you muttered, shaking your head. "But okay, I'll help you. This time."

"Thank you. You’re a lifesaver." he grinned, looking ridiculously pleased with himself.

"Yeah, yeah," you said, waving him off. "But you owe me for this."

"Deal," he said without hesitation, standing up and pulling Areum into his arms. "You hear that, princess? Daddy’s off the hook, thanks to Mommy."

Areum giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You're silly, Daddy."

Seungcheol laughed, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Yeah, I am. But don’t tell uncle Jeonghan and uncle Joshua that, okay? It’s our little secret."

As he left your apartment, looking far more relaxed than when he’d arrived, you couldn’t help but shake your head at the whole situation. Seungcheol, despite all his bravado, could be such a dork sometimes.

Still, there was a small, unexpected warmth in your chest as you watched him leave. Even after everything, he always seemed to find his way back to you. No matter what excuse he needed to make it happen.

Later that evening, Seungcheol was sitting at home, blissfully unaware that his “alibi” plan was about to backfire. He had just finished putting Areum to bed when his phone buzzed on the coffee table. Picking it up, he saw Jeonghan’s name on the screen.

He answered with a suspicious, “Hello?”

“You sneaky little liar,” Jeonghan’s voice greeted him, half-amused and half-accusing. “You could’ve just said no, you know.”

Seungcheol’s stomach dropped. “What are you talking about?”

“*What am I talking about?* Oh, just the fact that we got a call from *her.*” Jeonghan’s emphasis on the word *her* was enough to make Seungcheol’s heart skip a beat.

“Her?” Seungcheol played dumb, even though he knew exactly who Jeonghan meant.

“Your lovely *ex-wife,*” Jeonghan said, clearly enjoying this. “She called to tell us you’re busy this weekend because you’re spending time with her and Areum. Ring any bells?”

Seungcheol groaned, rubbing his face. “She wasn’t supposed to actually call you! She was just supposed to tell me to tell you—”

“Well, she called anyway,” Jeonghan interrupted, snickering. “And let me just say, it was a very enlightening conversation. Joshua and I were on speakerphone with her, by the way.”

“Oh, great,” Seungcheol muttered, already dreading what was coming next

“She sounded so sweet, too,” Joshua chimed in, suddenly joining the call. “Told us you’d be having a family day. Said you were a great dad and how nice it was that you prioritized Areum.”

“I am a great dad,” Seungcheol defended, even though he knew where this was going

“And then,” Jeonghan continued, his voice dripping with mischief, “she thanked us for ‘understanding.’ Understanding *what,* Seungcheol? That you’re still hopelessly hung up on her?”

“I’m not hung up on her!” Seungcheol snapped, though his face was burning

“Oh, please,” Jeonghan said, laughing now. “You *ran* to her to avoid going on a blind date. If that doesn’t scream ‘still in love with my ex,’ I don’t know what does.”

“It’s not like that,” Seungcheol argued, even though he could hear how weak his own defense sounded

“Then what’s it like?” Joshua asked innocently, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer

Seungcheol sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, I didn’t want to go on the date, and it was the only way I could think of okay? That’s all it was.”

“Sure,” Jeonghan said, drawing the word out. “And the fact that you still wear your wedding ring sometimes doesn’t mean anything either, right?”

“I don’t—” Seungcheol started to protest, but Joshua cut him off.

“And the fact that you’re always making excuses to hang out with her and Areum? Totally not suspicious.”

“Or how about how you still call her whenever something important happens?” Jeonghan added. “Like that time you got promoted, and the *first* person you told wasn’t us, but *her.*”

“Okay, enough!” Seungcheol snapped, though he couldn’t deny any of it. He slumped back on the couch, glaring at the ceiling. “You two are insufferable.”

“Maybe,” Jeonghan said, clearly enjoying this. “But we’re not wrong, are we?”

There was a long pause, and for once, Seungcheol didn’t have a quick comeback. Instead, he muttered, “I’m hanging up now,” and ended the call before they could say anything else.

As he set his phone down, Seungcheol sighed heavily. He hated how well Jeonghan and Joshua knew him. Hated how they could see right through him, even when he tried to deny it.

But most of all, he hated that they were right. Because no matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise, he wasn’t over you.

Not even close.

The next weekend, Seungcheol found himself being herded into a bar by Jeonghan, Joshua, and a few other friends. He hadn’t wanted to come, he’d rather be home with Areum or even by himself but Jeonghan had been persistent, and Seungcheol didn’t have the energy to argue.

“Come on, Cheol,” Jeonghan said, throwing an arm around his shoulders as they walked inside. “You’ve been way too uptight lately. A night out is exactly what you need.”

Seungcheol grunted in response, scanning the bar. It was packed with people, the music loud enough to make casual conversation impossible. He could already feel the headache forming.

“I’ll get us a table,” Joshua said, disappearing into the crowd

As they settled into a corner booth, Jeonghan smirked and gestured toward a group of women near the bar. “What about them? Think any of them would catch your eye, Cheol?”

Seungcheol shot him a glare. “Not interested.”

“Oh, come on,” Jeonghan teased. “You can’t stay hung up on—”

“I said I’m not interested,” Seungcheol interrupted, his tone sharper than he intended

Jeonghan raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. No need to bite my head off.”

But Jeonghan being Jeonghan, he didn’t let it drop. When the women eventually came over, clearly encouraged by Jeonghan and Joshua, Seungcheol’s discomfort was palpable

“Hi,” one of the women said, flashing him a bright smile. “I’m Hyejin. And you are?”

“Not interested,” Seungcheol muttered, taking a sip of his drink without meeting her gaze.

Her smile faltered, but she didn’t give up. “Oh, come on. You’re way too handsome to be sitting here brooding all night.”

Joshua tried to suppress a laugh while Jeonghan nudged him under the table, grinning like the devil himself.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Seungcheol said, still avoiding eye contact.

“Don’t mind him,” Jeonghan said, ever the instigator. “He’s just shy.”

Seungcheol glared at Jeonghan. “I’m not shy.”

“Then talk to her,” Jeonghan challenged, a mischievous glint in his eye

“I don’t want to,” Seungcheol snapped, standing up abruptly. “I’m getting some air.”

As he walked away, Jeonghan burst into laughter. “I swear, he’s worse than a teenager with a crush.”

Outside, Seungcheol leaned against the cool brick wall, letting out a heavy sigh. He didn’t know why he’d let the guys drag him out in the first place. This wasn’t his scene anymore.

He pulled out his phone and instinctively opened your messages. There was a picture you’d sent earlier that day of Areum holding up a crayon drawing of the two of you with her in the middle. She’d written “My Famly” in bright, messy letters at the top.

He smiled to himself, his thumb hovering over the call button.

Before he could make a decision, the door to the bar opened, and Joshua stepped outside, a knowing look on his face. “Thought I’d find you out here.”

“Not in the mood,” Seungcheol muttered, putting his phone away.

Joshua leaned against the wall next to him, crossing his arms. “You know, Jeonghan’s just messing with you. He knows you’re still into her.”

“I’m not—”

“Cheol.” Joshua cut him off with a pointed look. “We’ve known you for years. Don’t even try to deny it.”

Seungcheol sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t matter. We’re divorced. She’s moved on.”

“Has she?” Joshua asked, raising an eyebrow

That made Seungcheol pause. “What do you mean?”

“She’s not exactly going on dates, is she?” Joshua pointed out. “And last I checked, she’s still wearing your ring.”

Seungcheol frowned, his chest tightening at the thought. He’d noticed it, of course. How could he not? But he hadn’t dared to hope it meant anything.

“Look, man,” Joshua said, clapping him on the shoulder. “If you still love her and I know you do you’ve got to stop acting like it’s too late. Because if you keep sitting on the sidelines, someone else *will* come along eventually. And you won’t have anyone to blame but yourself.”

With that, Joshua turned and went back inside, leaving Seungcheol alone with his thoughts.

And for the first time in a long while, those thoughts were filled with hope.

Seungcheol sighed and adjusted his jacket as he made his way back inside. Maybe if he stayed near the bar’s edge, the persistent group would lose interest. But as soon as he returned to the booth, Hyejin, the overly determined woman, lit up like he was her jackpot.

“There you are,” she said, patting the empty seat beside her. “I thought you might’ve run off.”

Seungcheol stayed standing, crossing his arms. “Just needed air.”

“Well, now that you’re back, let’s make this night a little more fun, huh?” She reached for his arm, but he took a step back

“I’m good,” he said flatly

But Hyejin clearly wasn’t one to give up easily.

“Oh, come on. One drink. What’s the harm?”

Jeonghan and Joshua, meanwhile, were watching the scene unfold like it was the best drama of the year. Joshua even had the audacity to take a sip of his beer and mutter, “This is going to be good.”

Seungcheol shot them both a glare before turning back to Hyejin. He’d had enough of the games.

“Look,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “I’m flattered, really. But I’m not interested. I have someone else.”

Her smile faltered. “Oh? You’re married?”

He didn’t hesitate reaching for the gold chain tucked under his shirt, there hangs his wedding ring. The date and your initials engraved on the inside. He let it dangle in the dim light, the small circle gleaming like a quiet promise.

“Divorced,” he clarified, “but that doesn’t mean I’m available.”

Hyejin blinked, clearly not expecting that response. “You’re divorced, but you’re still...?”

“I’m still in love with my ex-wife,” Seungcheol said plainly, his voice steady. “And we have a daughter together. Her name is Areum. She’s five, loves soccer, and thinks I can fix anything—even when I can’t.”

Jeonghan and Joshua exchanged wide-eyed glances, the playful smirks slipping from their faces.

“Whoa,” Jeonghan muttered under his breath. “He went there.”

Seungcheol ignored them, keeping his focus on Hyejin. “So, no offense, but I’m not looking for anything. My family is my priority. Always.”

There was a moment of stunned silence before Hyejin finally nodded, clearly caught off guard. “I see. Well... good for you, I guess. It’s rare to meet someone so dedicated.”

With that, she stood up, mumbling something about grabbing another drink, and walked away.

The second she was out of earshot, Jeonghan burst into laughter. “Oh, my God. Cheol, that was...”

“I’ve never seen someone so politely crush someone’s hopes like that.” Joshua shook his head, though he was smiling

“I’m not joking,” Seungcheol said, slipping the ring and chain back under his shirt

Jeonghan grinned, leaning across the table. “We know you’re not. That’s what makes it so entertaining. You’re still head over heels for her, aren’t you?”

Seungcheol sighed, sinking into the booth. “Can we not do this right now?”

“Nope,” Jeonghan said, popping the “p.” “This is exactly the time to do it. Because you just told a complete stranger that you’re still in love with your ex-wife. Out loud. In public.”

“And in front of witnesses,” Joshua added, smirking

Seungcheol groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Why do I even hang out with you two?”

“Because we’re the only ones who can call you out on your nonsense,” Jeonghan said, patting him on the back. “And honestly, Cheol, it’s about time you stopped hiding it.”

“Stopped hiding what?” Seungcheol muttered.

“That you want her back,” Joshua said simply.

Seungcheol didn’t respond, his thoughts too tangled with the truth of their words. He didn’t need to admit it—they already knew.

And deep down, so did he.

The hum of the car engine fills the silence between you and Seungcheol. The road stretches endlessly, flanked by towering trees that seem to lean in, listening to the quiet tension between you. In the backseat, Areum is a bundle of energy, her stuffed rabbit tucked securely under one arm as she hums a made-up tune. Her legs swing back and forth, her excitement barely contained.

“Are we there yet?” she chirps for the third time in an hour

“Almost, sweetheart,” Seungcheol answers, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.

You glance at him from the passenger seat, noting how his hands grip the steering wheel, veins faintly visible under his tan skin. He looks good—too good. His hair, slightly longer than when you last saw him, falls over his forehead, and his jawline is as sharp as ever.

You force yourself to look away, instead focusing on the scenery outside, even though it does little to distract you from the weight of his presence.

“You excited, Areum?” you ask

“I’m soooo excited!” she exclaims, throwing her hands into the air. “Mommy, Daddy, we’re going to have so much fun! Just like old times!”

Your heart clenches at her words. You glance at Seungcheol again, catching the way his lips press into a thin line. He doesn’t say anything, but the moment hangs heavily between you.

The cabin is perfect. Nestled by a serene lake, it’s surrounded by tall pines that sway gently in the breeze. The wooden exterior glows warmly in the afternoon sunlight, and Areum bounces with excitement as soon as you step out of the car.

“Look, Mommy! A swing!” she squeals, racing toward the porch where a rustic wooden swing creaks invitingly.

Seungcheol opens the trunk and starts unloading the bags. You hesitate for a moment before grabbing Areum’s smaller suitcase and following him inside.

Areum darts around, exploring every nook and cranny, while you and Seungcheol silently divvy up tasks. You find yourself in the kitchen, unpacking snacks and prepping a quick lunch.

The clatter of utensils is the only sound until Seungcheol walks in, his sleeves rolled up, revealing forearms that shouldn’t still affect you the way they do.

“Need help?” he asks

“I’ve got it,” you reply curtly, not looking up

He doesn’t leave. Instead, he leans against the counter, watching you as you slice fruit. The tension is suffocating, and you’re about to tell him to either help or leave when Areum bursts in

“Daddy! Come help me unpack my toys!” she demands, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the door

He follows her willingly, but not before casting one last look your way A look that lingers too long and says too much.

After dinner, Areum insists on roasting marshmallows by the firepit outside. The three of you gather under the clear night sky, the flames crackling and sending up occasional sparks. Areum’s laughter fills the air as she holds her marshmallow too close to the fire, causing it to catch alight.

“Help, Daddy!” she shrieks, holding the stick out.

Seungcheol chuckles, taking it from her and expertly blowing out the flames. “There. Perfectly charred,” he declares, handing it back to her.

You watch as he wipes a smudge of chocolate from her cheek, his expression soft and full of love. The sight twists something inside you, and you have to look away.

When your eyes meet his across the fire, his gaze is steady, searching, as if he’s trying to read your mind.

Areum’s birthday breakfast is a chaotic mix of pancakes, whipped cream, and sprinkles. She insists on wearing her birthday crown all day, and Seungcheol dutifully bows every time she walks by, calling her “Princess Areum.”

When it’s time for cake, she claps her hands excitedly as you light the candles. “Okay, sweetie, make a wish,” you say, kneeling beside her.

She closes her eyes, her expression scrunching up in concentration. Then, with a triumphant shout, she declares, “I wish for a sibling!”

Your breath catches, and you glance at Seungcheol, who looks just as stunned. Areum blows out the candles in one go, her face lighting up with joy. “Now it has to come true!” she exclaims, completely oblivious to the tension between you and her father.

The morning sun glitters on the lake’s surface, and Areum races ahead, her bright pink swimsuit standing out against the greens and blues of nature. She shrieks with delight as her toes touch the cold water, kicking up little splashes.

“Come on, Mommy! Daddy!” she calls, waving her arms.

You hesitate at the shoreline, adjusting your cover-up nervously. Seungcheol, on the other hand, wades in without hesitation, his muscular frame cutting through the water as he lifts Areum into his arms. She giggles as he spins her around, droplets flying everywhere.

“Scared of a little water?” he teases, glancing back at you with a smirk.

You roll your eyes but step in, letting the icy water creep up your legs. Areum swims over to you, her small hands grasping yours.

“Let’s play! All of us!” she exclaims.

She drags you toward Seungcheol, who’s treading water a few feet away. The three of you end up playing a makeshift game of tag, and for a moment, it feels almost normal almost like the three of you are a family again.

Later, when Areum insists on building sandcastles by the shore, you sit side by side with Seungcheol, the silence between you no longer quite as heavy.

“She really loves this,” he says, watching Areum with a fond smile.

“She’s been looking forward to it for weeks,” you admit, fiddling with a piece of grass. “She wanted it to be perfect.”

He glances at you. “I think it is.”

After Areum falls asleep, the cabin feels too quiet. You find yourself on the porch, staring out at the dark lake. The sound of footsteps behind you makes you tense, but you don’t turn around. You know it’s him.

“She really surprised us today,” Seungcheol says, leaning against the railing beside you

“That’s Areum,” you reply softly, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Always full of surprises.”

There’s a pause before he speaks again. “She’s a lot like you.”

You glance at him, caught off guard. His gaze is steady, filled with something you can’t quite name. “You don’t have to say that,” you mumble

“I mean it,” he says, his voice low. “You’re both stubborn, and you never give up on what you want.”

The words hang between you, and before you can think, he takes a step closer. “I know I messed up,” he says, his tone almost pleading. “But being here… it reminds me of what we had. What we could still have.”

“Cheol…” you start, but he silences you with a gentle touch on your arm.

“I’m not asking for everything right now,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “But tell me… do you feel it too? Even a little?”

You don’t answer with words. Instead, you close the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a kiss that feels like both a question and an answer. It’s slow, deliberate, and filled with the weight of everything left unsaid.

For the first time in years, you let yourself hope.

The kiss deepens, but it isn’t hurried. It feels more like rediscovering something familiar yet distant. Seungcheol’s hand finds the curve of your waist, grounding you, while the other gently brushes your cheek.

For a fleeting moment, the years of heartbreak, resentment, and missed chances seem to melt away, leaving just the two of you under the starlit sky.

When you finally pull back, his forehead rests against yours, and his breath fans across your face. Neither of you says a word, and for once, the silence feels comfortable, even necessary.

“I… I should go to bed,” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly. It isn’t a rejection, but a plea for space, a moment to process what just happened.

Seungcheol nods, his hand lingering on your arm before he lets you go. “Goodnight,” he murmurs, his voice laced with something you can’t quite place—hope, maybe.

You retreat to your room, your heart pounding in your chest. You glance at the bed, where Areum sleeps peacefully, her little hand clutching her stuffed rabbit. Her soft breaths are a reminder of everything that matters, of why you came here in the first place.

Still, when you lie down, the memory of Seungcheol’s touch lingers, refusing to let you rest.

The next morning, it's smell of freshly brewed coffee wakes you. Padding into the kitchen, you find Seungcheol already at work, flipping pancakes while Areum sits on the counter, wearing one of his oversized shirts over her pajamas. She’s animatedly telling him a story about her dreams, waving her arms for emphasis.

“And then the dragon said, ‘Areum, you’re the bravest princess ever!’” she declares, her eyes wide. “Right, Daddy?”

“Of course,” he says with a grin, ruffling her hair. “If there’s anyone who can take down a dragon, it’s you.”

You linger in the doorway, unnoticed for a moment, watching the easy way they interact. Areum looks at him like he hung the moon, and Seungcheol, for all his faults, looks at her like she’s his whole world.

“Mommy!” Areum spots you first, her face lighting up. “Daddy’s teaching me how to flip pancakes! Look!” She holds up a spatula triumphantly

“Is he now?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you step closer. “Just don’t let him burn them.”

“Hey, I’m a pro. You remember.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. It’s moments like this that make it hard to hold on to the walls you’ve built.

As the three of you sit down to breakfast, Areum chatters on about all the things she wants to do before you leave the cabin. Her energy is infectious, and for the first time in a long while, you let yourself relax.

After lunch, Areum insists on having a tea party outside by the lake. She drags Seungcheol along, handing him a tiny pink teacup and a plastic tiara. You try not to laugh as he dutifully places it on his head, his expression serious as Areum pours invisible tea into his cup.

“Daddy, you have to hold your pinky up!” Areum scolds, demonstrating the proper way to hold a teacup.

“Like this?” he asks, holding up his pinky with exaggerated effort.

Areum giggles. “No, Daddy, you’re doing it wrong!”

“Why don’t you join us, Mommy?” Areum calls, waving you over

“Oh, no,” you say, shaking your head. “You and Daddy seem to have it under control.”

“She’s scared of your tea,” Seungcheol teases, winking at you. “Probably thinks it’s too strong.”

You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays you. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

It's the last night at the cabin before going back to normal. After putting Areum to bed, you find Seungcheol on the porch again, leaning against the railing. The moon casts a soft glow on the lake, and the air is cool but pleasant.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks without turning around.

You step out, closing the door quietly behind you. “Something like that.”

He gestures for you to join him, and after a moment’s hesitation, you do. The two of you stand in silence, the sounds of crickets and the gentle lapping of the lake filling the void.

“She’s amazing, you know,” he says finally, his voice low. “Areum. She’s everything good about us.”

You swallow hard, nodding. “She is.”

He turns to look at you then, his gaze soft but intense. “I meant what I said last night,” he murmurs. “I don’t want to lose this again. I don’t want to lose you.”

Your breath catches, but before you can respond, he reaches for your hand. His fingers are warm, steady, as they curl around yours.

“I know it will be hard,” he continues, his voice rough with emotion. “But if there’s even a part of you that still believes in us, I’ll do whatever it takes to prove I’ve changed.”

Tears prick at your eyes, and you look down, unsure of how to respond.

“Cheol…” you start, your voice trembling. “This isn’t just about us anymore. It’s about Areum.”

“I know,” he says, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “And that’s why I want to do this right. For her. For you.”

For a long moment, you say nothing, your gaze fixed on the horizon. But when you finally look up, you see the sincerity in his eyes, and the walls you’ve built around your heart begin to crumble.

“Okay,” you whisper. “But this time… we take it slow.”

A smile spreads across his face, and for the first time in years, it feels like the start of something new.

The porch is quiet, save for the soft chirping of crickets and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. Seungcheol’s hand lingers in yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in slow, deliberate movements. The air between you feels charged, heavy with unspoken words and emotions that neither of you can ignore anymore.

“Slow,” he repeats, his voice soft but resolute. “I can do slow.”

But the way he’s looking at you now. His gaze warm and searching, dipping from your eyes to your lips makes you doubt his resolve. Your pulse quickens as he steps closer, his presence overwhelming in a way that feels both familiar and new.

“Cheol…” you murmur, unsure whether it’s meant to be a warning or encouragement

“Tell me to stop,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. His free hand rises, fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face, lingering at your temple. “Tell me, and I will.”

You should say it. You should remind him that Areum is just inside, that this isn’t the time, that you’re still trying to figure things out. But instead, you find yourself leaning into his touch, the warmth of his hand against your skin unraveling the last of your defenses.

He takes your silence as permission and leans down slowly, his lips brushing against yours with an achingly soft tenderness. The kiss is tentative at first, as if he’s afraid you’ll pull away, but when you don’t, it deepens. His hand moves to the small of your back, pulling you closer until your bodies are flush against each other.

The sensation is overwhelming, a rush of emotions you’ve tried so hard to bury. His lips are firm and insistent, and when his teeth graze your lower lip, you let out a soft gasp that seems to ignite something in him. He tilts his head, angling the kiss to deepen it further, and you feel his fingers tighten on your waist.

Your hands find their way to his chest, pressing lightly against the hard muscle beneath his shirt. It’s not a push to stop, but it makes him pause. He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his breathing uneven.

“This okay?” he asks, his voice hoarse.

You nod, your fingers curling into his shirt. “Yeah.”

He lets out a soft laugh, pressing his forehead against yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

His confession sends a shiver through you, but before you can respond, his lips are on yours again. This time, there’s less hesitation. His hand slips under the hem of your sweater, his palm warm against the bare skin of your lower back. The touch is electric, sending sparks racing up your spine.

You can’t help the soft moan that escapes you, and Seungcheol freezes, pulling back abruptly. “Sorry,” he murmurs, his voice strained. “I said slow, and I mean it. I don’t want to mess this up.”

You’re breathless, your cheeks flushed as you look up at him. There’s a vulnerability in his expression that makes your heart ache. “You’re not messing anything up,” you assure him, your fingers still gripping his shirt.

He exhales deeply, resting his hands on your hips but making no move to take things further. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he mutters, half-smiling as he brushes his thumb against your hipbone.

The sound of a soft thud inside the cabin breaks the moment, and both of you freeze, turning toward the door.

“Areum,” you whisper, your heart racing for an entirely different reason now

Seungcheol chuckles under his breath, stepping back and running a hand through his hair. “Guess the universe has a way of keeping me in check.”

You can’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “We should check on her.”

He nods, his expression still warm. As you turn to head back inside, he catches your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Slow,” he repeats, his eyes locking with yours. “But I’m not letting you go this time.”

You smile, the warmth of his words settling deep in your chest. “Okay.”

Inside, Areum is fast asleep, her stuffed rabbit lying on the floor beside her bed. You tuck her back in, brushing a kiss to her forehead before slipping out of the room. As you close the door, Seungcheol is waiting in the hallway, his arms crossed loosely over his chest.

“Goodnight,” you say softly, pausing in front of him

“Goodnight,” he replies, but his eyes linger on you a moment longer before he heads to his own room.

You retreat to your bed, your heart still racing from the night’s events. For the first time in years, you feel a flicker of hope—a possibility of rebuilding what you thought was lost. And as you drift off to sleep, you find yourself looking forward to what tomorrow might bring.

The next morning you were woken up by the sound of Areum’s laughter as she runs through the living room, her stuffed rabbit trailing behind her. Seungcheol is chasing after her, pretending to be a monster, his deep growls making her shriek in delight.

You go down to see the duo having so much energy this early in the day, a fond smiling forming on your face

“Daddy, you’ll never catch me!” Areum taunts, darting behind the couch.

“We’ll see about that!” Seungcheol lunges dramatically, scooping her up and tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Put me down!” she squeals, though her giggles betray her delight.

“Okay, okay, you win!” she says between giggles.

He sits beside her, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “That’s what I thought. Who’s the champ?”

“You are!” she says, sticking her tongue out at him before turning her attention to you. “Mommy! Come sit with us!”

You join them on the couch, Areum immediately climbing into your lap and wrapping her arms around your neck. “Did you have fun this weekend, sweetheart?” you ask, smoothing her hair

“Yes! It was the best birthday ever!” she exclaims, her eyes lighting up. Then, as if remembering something important, she leans back to look at both you and Seungcheol, her expression suddenly serious

“What is it, Areum?” you ask her

She takes a deep breath, her little brows furrowed in concentration. “Yesterday, when I blew out my candles, I made a wish.”

You and Seungcheol exchange a quick glance, his brow lifting in curiosity "We remember, what about it sweet girl?"

"I thought about it a lot. And since Mommy and Daddy are best friends” she pauses to give each of you a knowing look, “—I thought maybe you could make it happen.”

Seungcheol bursts into laughter, ruffling Areum’s hair. “That’s quite the request, princess.”

“But you always say you’d do anything for me!” she counters, crossing her arms in a way that makes her look far older than six.

You bite back a smile, trying to keep your tone serious. “Sweetheart, it doesn’t exactly work like that.”

“Why not?” she asks, tilting her head.

“Well,” Seungcheol jumps in, his voice warm and teasing, “it’s not something that happens overnight. It takes time and a lot of love.”

Areum seems to consider this, her little face scrunching up in thought. Then she looks at the two of you, her smile returning. “That’s okay! I can wait. As long as you promise!”

You and Seungcheol both laugh, and he reaches over to give her a hug. “We’ll see what we can do, princess. No promises, but we’ll try our best.”

“Yay!” Areum cheers, completely satisfied with that answer. She wriggles out of your lap and runs off to find her toys, leaving the two of you alone.

As soon as Areum disappears down the hall, Seungcheol turns to you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Well, that was unexpected.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “She’s bold. Definitely takes after you.”

“Me?” he protests, feigning offense. “I think she takes after her mom. You’ve got a pretty bold streak yourself.”

“So, what do we tell her if she asks again?”

Seungcheol leans back, his gaze softening as he looks at you. “We tell her the truth. That we’re figuring things out, but we’ll always be a family—no matter what.”

“And hey,” he adds, his tone teasing, “if she really wants a sibling, I guess we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

You swat his arm, laughing despite yourself. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Choi Seungcheol.”

He grins, reaching for your hand and intertwining your fingers. “No rush,” he says softly, his eyes locking with yours. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”

And as you sit there, hand in hand, you can’t help but feel that, for the first time in a long while, you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

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builtbybrokenbells · 3 days ago

Text

Melodic Memories | Track 7: Romeo and Juliet - Dire Straits

In a tattered old box shoved deep down in the corner of an overfilled closet, a lifetimes worth of memories lie dormant at the bottom waiting to be rediscovered.

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 16k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), dom/sub, touch of breeding kink, possessiveness, briefest mention of a free use kink if you squint, multiple orgasm, simultaneous orgasm, lots of dirty talk, mentions of ownership kink, nipple play, name calling, degradation, praise, sadness, heartbreak, high school breakups, unrequited love, estranged parent/strained parental relationships, angst, anger, bickering, name calling, depression, anxiety, self doubt/self consciousness, swearing, drinking, smoking, flirting, fluff, mentions of hookups/casual sex, sorry if I miss any!

so this is my second time trying to post this (thanks tumblr for deleting it completely 🫶🏻) but I just want to say, thank you to everyone who has been patiently and kindly waiting for this update, and i hope this serves as an apology. my life has kinda blown up in my face as of late and I’ve really been struggling, but im trying very hard to get back to normal. as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes! (Extremely lightly edited)

And a special shout-out to @gretavangroupie and @gretavanmoon for always keeping me on track, listening to my ramblings, and for the unwavering support and encouragement 🤍 melodic memories would not be what it is without you 😌

Also another special shoutout to @jakeyt. I’m eternally grateful for you and everything you do for me, and so so lucky to have you in my life 🤍

Jake’s POV

“You sure this will work?” Josh asked, looking across the cab of your dad’s car, one eyebrow raised as he awaited your answer. Swallowing back a permanent lump in your throat, the stark dryness of your tongue seemed to make your nervousness grow even stronger. The claminess of your palms and the steady thud of your heart against your chest made it seem all the more real, and as you digested his question you began to wonder that yourself.

“P-positive.” You felt the word get caught in your teeth, like even the syllables were trying their best to mock you. The whole world felt like that, making you second guess every single thought and action, like nothing was good enough. Before you stepped foot outside, before you climbed into the passenger seat with your heart in your hands and every ounce of love scrawled across your tired face, you were certain. Now, as the wheels whirred on the pavement below and the trees passed you by, you could not say that for fact. “It has to work.” You rephrased your words, feeling a bit more confident as those ones slipped past your lips.

“Okay.” Was all he said, his index finger drumming against the steering wheel. For some reason, that did not bode well with you, making the knots in your stomach tighten to the point of fraying.

“Okay?” At that, he let out a chuckle, his lips stuck in an irritating smile as he gave one singular nod of his head.

“If you’re sure, then so am I.” He reiterated his stance, peeking at you from the very corner of his eye.

“Okay, well—“ you huffed a breath, feeling a slight twang in your chest as you tried to agree with him. Suddenly, you couldn’t keep up the facade anymore, feeling the fears tumble out faster than you could stop them. “What if I’m not sure?” The pitch of your voice, high and airy, seemed to send another laugh shaking his shoulders.

“And why wouldn’t you be sure, Jake?” Josh and his aggravatingly accurate intuition, always knowing when something was wrong and knowing exactly how to pry it out of you.

“I hate you, you know.” You grumbled, your lips dipping down into a frown as you swiped your palms over your jeans. “How did you know?”

“Jesus, brother, I can feel the anxiety all the way over here. You’re not as mysterious as you think—least not to me, anyway.” He said, turning the radio down ever so slightly. “What’s got you second guessing yourself?”

“I just—fuck.” You sighed, your head falling back on the seat as you sucked a sharp breath into your lungs. “It has to work, Josh. It has to. I can’t—I won’t go back to Nashville if she… if we—“

“Alright,” he nodded, cutting off your nervous rambling so you need not suffer any more. He got it, and he didn’t need you to explain it now that he knew for sure that’s what it was about. “Well, it certainly won’t be good for you if you show up at her front door looking like that. Nervous, stuttering, sweating mess.”

“Hey,” you muttered, eyebrows furrowed at his blunt words. He flashed you a soft smile, letting you know it was only a joke.

“You always do this.”

“Do what?”

“This.” He motioned towards you, your entire aura affecting him directly, like he could feel your racing heart and hear your inner voice. “Freak yourself out, panic, like you don’t know her better than anyone in the whole world—aside from me.” He added quickly, making sure that he was involved in the equation. “You know she’ll love it Jake, ‘cause she loves you. Even after everything, that’s still true and you know that.”

“But is it enough?” That question posed a long bout of silence between the two of you. Josh lessened the pressure of his foot on the gas pedal, slowing the car without hitting the brakes. He knew he needed more time to formulate a good answer to your question, but even as the car crawled across the main road of the suburb, he wasn’t sure any response would truly suffice.

“You never know unless you try.” He offered, knowing it did not ease any fear but hesitant about giving you false hope. You gave a solemn nod, understanding that was all he could say. “I mean, Jake, come on. This is sunshine we’re talking about. Just tell her the stuff you need to get off your chest… don’t leave anything unsaid this time. She wants this too, but she’s scared. Help her see it in a different way. She got a job, and that was her biggest concern, wasn’t it?”

“She did.” You hummed, the dryness of your mouth worsening as you saw her house appear in the distance. “I mean, all of this had to happen for a reason, right? It has to mean something more than closure, or moving on, or whatever the fuck…” you rambled, sickened at the idea of the biggest chapter of your life coming to an end. Actually, you weren’t even sure you could survive it.

“I think,” he flicked on the turn signal, slowing so he could pull into her driveway. You tried to ignore the anxious buzz in your ears, your thoughts spiraling and causing you to do the same. “That what the two of you have is a once in a lifetime experience. For that reason alone, I believe that there’s more to this story.”

For once, his ambiguity made you feel better instead of worse, because you agreed with the sentiment. For how strongly both of you felt, it couldn’t just end. There had to be something more for the two of you, together.

Only once the car was parked did he speak again, this time a bit more direct with his words.

“Do you want me to wait here?”

“No.” You shook your head, taking a deep breath to calm yourself. “I’m gonna see this one through.” You continued, knowing in your heart that you did not need a fallback. Even if things did not work in your favor, you wouldn’t be sent away. Not now, not ever. She, no matter what the two of you were, would always accept you with open arms and love you accordingly. This house, her house, would always be home, whether you were a lover, a friend, or even a stranger who knew much more than he should. So long as she lived, you knew you would have a place beside her, even if it was not what you wanted it to be. “I’m gonna get her back, Josh.”

At that, a knowing grin crossed his lips.

That was what he was waiting for.

For you to breathe in the confidence he was pushing in your direction, to listen to the tellings of your heart rather than your head, to understand that you could not let her go again, that you could not accept self destruction and misery when the resolution was within reach.

“You’re gonna get her back, Jake.” He reiterated your point, making sure you knew he felt the same way. “Now go. Don’t wait any longer.” He ushered you out of the car, his toothy smile making you feel like the world was right again.

Looking at him now, about to accomplish your life’s purpose, you finally understood that the reason you put so much faith in Josh boiled down to one, very simple fact: the world had been burning, six whole years spent in the barren pits of hell without a breath of relief in sight, and not for one single second did he ever think of leaving your side. At your lowest of lows, feeling the heartbreak with you and suffering alongside you, he never felt an inkling to ignore it or to give up on you. He tackled every one of your tears and self-doubts with determination, making sure you knew that being alone wasn’t even an option and that all of your fears were misguided. He listened to the same rants and complaints a million times over and never found himself sick of it. Right now, after knowing all of the suffrage and the role he had within it, he was sending you straight into her arms even knowing what the outcome might be and how it would affect him.

He wanted you to be happy, and he would stop at nothing to see it.

The whole world had been burning until that fateful day in Italy, and he held your hand the entire time, opting to burn with you instead of watching you burn alone. Relief did not only touch you when you received that message, but him too.

If Josh, out of everyone in the entire world, believed that the two of you should be together, you owed it to him to try, to show him that his efforts have never gone unnoticed or unappreciated even if by times it seemed so.

“I love you.” You said, fingers clasped around the door handle as you prepared to step outside. “Thank you.”

“I love you.” He replied, his eyes scanning the car to make sure you had everything you needed, always taking care of you without even realizing he was doing it. “I’ll see you at home.” You gave one curt nod, reiterating the statement wordlessly. “You’ve got this, Jake. You’ve been waiting for this for years. We’ve been waiting for this.”

That seemed to be all you needed, and with a smile on your face, you finally stepped out into the warm summer air, a rush of confidence fuelling you as you gave him one last look over your shoulder. Swallowing your fears (and your pride, as it seemed), you straightened the hem of your shirt against your chest, making sure the collar was flipped the right way before advancing any further. Running one hand through your hair, you took the first step towards the front porch, fully expecting lead to weigh you down yet pleasantly surprised at the airiness of your limbs.

This was the right thing to do.

You were making the right decision.

Of course you were; there was no other choice. At the end of the line, she was the only thing that mattered.

Feeling both of your feet firmly stand on the first rickety wooden step, you thought the anxiety might return, but the closer you got to the door, the better you felt. The closer to her, the brighter it seemed.

Your malaise had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with missing her. Knowing that she was nearby, that you would be able to see the sweet smile and the sparkling eyes that turned your entire world upside down, was enough to make any bad feelings or negative thoughts flee you completely. She was home to you, and no matter how much time or hurt stood between you, that would never change.

With each creaking stair, you felt the nervous energy quickly turn to excitement, and as you raised your hand to knock on her front door, it felt like the sun began to shine down upon your face, warming your soul in the sweetest and most precious way.

But, the sun had always been shining, especially on the particularly warm summer day, even if it would soon set in the sky. Not a cloud in sight to cover it, and not even a flicker in its intensity.

As you knocked a second time, you could feel the light flood your veins, bright white and searing hot, begging to burst straight from your skin and bleed you dry.

This light, this warmth, never had a thing to do with the burnt up old star in the sky, and you believed that more than ever, especially when the door swung open and you were graced with the sight of her beautiful, breathtaking face.

Her POV

“Ozz, please.” You huffed out a sigh of frustration, grumbling and groaning as the cat puttered in front of your feet and tripped you for the second time since you stood. Although, you couldn’t be too upset at him, considering he was the only reason you knew there was someone at the front door. If not for his chirping and flattened ears, you would have disregarded the knock completely, bundled up on the couch as you watched reruns of your favorite television show. Feeling guilty for scolding him in such a tone, you gave a sad smile and reached down, scooping him straight into your arms as you carried him to the door.

Seemingly content with the new position, he melted into your chest as you kicked aside shoes lingering by the front door. You had gotten back from your faculty meeting a few hours prior, finding yourself excited and counting down the minutes until Monday morning, finally feeling right and ready to start your life. Tired from your first early morning in a long time (and from the long drive to and from), you started apartment hunting as soon as you got home, unwilling to make the hour trek both ways for any longer than necessary. Mel, who had scored an interview at an elementary school not far from the university, decided to take the afternoon and explore the town after a promising afternoon.

Knowing she wouldn’t be back until late (if at all, knowing her and her inkling to make friends or lovers anywhere), you ordered takeout to be delivered at your door and prepared for an evening to yourself. Your mother and your little sister had left shortly after you got home, giving you the rundown on their plans while you only half listened. When your father left, your mother had taken it upon herself to ensure that once a month, she would spend an entire evening with each of you on your lonesome, and at least one night with all three of you, doing something fun and carefree. It was her way of ensuring you two always knew how much she loved you, and that no matter how life was, she would always make time for you. Sometimes, it was just a movie, or ice cream, but other times, when money wasn’t as tight, it was a spa day or a day trip to the mall.

In the very beginning, you didn’t know it, but it was a way to distract her and the two of you from the emptiness of the home. It gave all of you something to look forward to, and it reminded you and your sister of all the love that continued to surround you.

Back then, you loved it. Now, you had a whole new appreciation for it knowing the truth behind it.

Once you went to university, obviously it became a little harder to maintain, so when you were home, she jumped at the chance to have that time with you again. It was different, but still just as important, and even more beautiful to see the tradition carry on.

So with the house all to yourself for the first time in a long time, you were soaking up the vacant space and lack of noise, enjoying as much of it as you could before the (welcome) chaos made a return.

Until the knock on the door, which left you where you were now: a cat clutched tightly to your chest, the evening sun shining through the blinds on the door before it sank in the sky, and a growing curiosity about who could be on the other side.

When you twisted the knob, the brightness from outside immediately took you by surprise. Once your eyes focused on the body before you, an ethereal light behind him framing him as even more angelic as usual, your heart sped and your stomach churned. It was not his presence that caused such a sudden reaction, even though he usually had such effects on you, but rather the items in his hand, held closely to his chest. Sunglasses sat low on his nose, his long brown hair honey-like as the sun illuminated it. His warm chestnut eyes spoke straight to your soul without him needing to say a word, and his half-smile sent a shiver straight down your spine.

“Hi, sunshine.” His voice, smooth like silk with a slight rasp of smoke, felt like a punch’s straight to the stomach.

The last time you had seen him, emotion hung heavy over your heads and your hearts splayed so carefully on your sleeve, you felt like you had left a million things unsaid, things you weren’t sure you would ever be able to air out. The title you had placed upon yourselves had left you wanting more, even if it did serve a little comfort when it changed from friends, and the risqué picture he sent over text after he was dropped off at the hotel was still seared into the front of your mind. Though a few texts had been sent and received between now and then, you still felt like the two of you had been caught in a stalemate, damned if you reached out and damned if you did not.

For the first time since the night on the roof, you finally let yourself feel how much you were missing him, how bleak and lonely life was without his company, whether it be in person or over the phone. For a brief second, you wanted to collapse into his arms, unable to control yourself or ignore the need to be held by him. Giving your head a slight shake, you understood that was not the best way to greet him, especially considering his hands were full, and so were yours.

Well, occupied, at least.

Ozz, who had been completely content with being held by you moments before, was now completely beside himself as he tried to push himself free from your grasp. He was chirping and meowing like crazy, desperate to be noticed by you even if your attention was caught by something else. Finally back to earth, you looked down at the furry companion, noticing his intent was not to be put down on the floor, but rather to greet Jake with all of the love you were withholding from him.

As you watched him lean towards the boy at the door, you felt a rush of emotion flood you, your eyes flickering between Jake and Ozz, finding the situation more telling than anything else.

“He never greets me like that.” You whispered to yourself, stepping forward as Jake did the same, always willing to meet you in the middle.

“He seems more excited to see me than you are.” Jake joked, raising his free hand to pet the cat, showing Ozz he was just as happy to see him.

“Not true.” You dismissed the idea. “I am excited to see you—just surprised.” Not at his presence, but the curious items he held in his hand and the overwhelming response of your cat to his company. And, although he was always welcome at your house, his showing up without any prior warning was very out of character, even for the version of Jake you loved so long ago.

“Can I come in?” One step inside already, he figured it would be best to ask permission to come any further despite the fact he knew he did not need it.

“Of course you can.” You nearly scoffed the reply, astounded by the fact he even felt the need to ask.

“How was your first day?” He asked, gently kicking the door shut behind him as you stepped backwards to allow him inside. Your eyes still fixated on his hands, you couldn’t seem to feign any sense of normalcy in response to his question. You slowly made your way back to the dining room, checking over your shoulder as he followed behind you. As you turned back to face him, you finally managed to respond.

“I-it… good.” Your eyes squeezed shut, embarrassed at your own lack of poise. “Okay, yeah—what are you doing here?” You finally understood that dismissing his suddenness and surprise was not an option, because you could not focus on anything aside from the—

“For you.” He finally extended his arm, offering the bouquet of expensive looking and beautifully arranged flowers. Taking in the sight of them, smelling the sweet fragrance of the petals, you understood that his visit was not without intent. Knowing that from the very beginning, you carefully sat Ozz on the floor and accepted the gift anyway, feeling little desire to turn him or his sweet gestures away. “I’m headed back home tomorrow morning.”

“Oh.” For two people who could not fully be together, the prospect of not having him around nearly brought you to your knees with grief. “So, just stopping in to say goodbye?” The crack in your voice gave you away, instantly telling him how painful the idea was.

A slight smile crossed his face as he gave his head a shake. Then, his eyes flickered to the floor for a moment, like he was trying to compose himself before giving a verbal response. You watched him carefully, like you were begging him for something you did not have the strength to say. Subconsciously, you wanted him to tell you all of the things you wanted to tell him, to open that door and make it easier for you to retract your ridiculous claims of friendship and separate ways.

If you had learned anything in the last few days, it was that you were crazy for thinking you could force yourself away from him a second time. Too scared to say it first, you hoped that by some stroke of luck, he was there to tell you exactly that.

“Not really, no.” He finally said, flipping up the second item in his hand so he could see it clearly. As you swallowed the lump in your throat, you tried not to look down at it, a sinking feeling in your stomach forcing you to believe you lived this exact scenario six years prior. Your only hope was that it would not end the same way. “I have a few things to say; do you have time to listen?”

“Y-yeah,” you cleared your throat, wishing to rid yourself of the stutter that suddenly took to your words. “For you, I always do.”

“Good.” He hummed, tapping his foot against the ground as his gaze flickered to your face. “Are you actually going to listen to me, sunshine?”

Although you hated admitting to your bad habits, you knew his question served a purpose, and he was completely justified in asking it.

“Yes.” You promised, assuring him of the fact.

“Okay.” He sighed a breath of relief, happy to hear it. “Nine years ago, or just about, I skipped my fourth period history class. It was raining outside, miserable and cold… I knew I couldn’t swing the soccer field, so I had to stay inside and not get caught. Instead, I went down to the gym, figured I could fuck around in the equipment closet for a little while, then figure something else out.”

“Jake,” you warned, your stomach lurching and your chest aching, remembering the day just as vividly and just as longingly as he did. You couldn’t hear him retell it, couldn’t bear hearing it from his point of view, especially when you spent so many years trying to forget it.

“You said you were going to listen, so listen.” He laughed, barely phased by your expected interruption. “When I went inside, I went straight to the back corner, where they kept all of the soccer balls and basketballs—but I heard something. I stopped, asked myself if I was fuckin’ crazy, but I knew that I wasn’t. Lo and behold, there was a girl sitting behind those big blue gymnastic mats. Do you know who it was, sunshine?” He was playing a sick and twisted game, one that you didn’t like very much but were too curious to refute. You wanted to hear what he had to say, even if it hurt like a bitch to do it.

“Me.” You whispered, crossing your arms over your torso and hugging yourself for a bit of comfort, in agony as you recalled his curious eyes and gentle approach.

“Crying, hiding, all because of Liam and his ridiculous fucking list.” He finished for you, his eyes glazed over as the melancholy sat itself upon both of your shoulders. He remembered that fact with utmost clarity, especially considering the fact he deemed Liam his mortal enemy after you told him why you were in the equipment room in the first place. “I was already in trouble with my parents for skipping—said if I did it again, I wouldn’t be able to play soccer anymore. For whatever reason, that day I couldn’t bring myself to step foot in that classroom, not even when I thought of the consequences. I didn’t care, but I didn’t know why. When I sat down beside you, the first ever time I got to be the shoulder you cried on, I got it. The minute I saw you, sunshine, the very second you opened your mouth and spoke to me, when you let me be that person for you, nothing else in the entire world mattered.”

“I was supposed to be there, Y/N. I was supposed to be with you, listening to you, loving you. My whole life, that is the only thing I have ever wanted to do, that I’ve ever been meant to do. I did it for nine whole years, even while you were gone and even when you didn’t want me to—even when I didn’t want to, I did.” He stepped towards you, intent clear in his eyes and showing no sign of backing down. “Six years ago, I stood in front of you in this house, and I gave you a CD with eight songs. Four songs that told you how much I loved you, and four songs that told you how horrible it felt to know that I wouldn’t be able to love you anymore.” He paused, chuckling to himself as he looked down at his hands, another damned plastic CD case held tightly in one of them.

For the briefest second, the flowers in your hand and the CD in his brought you to a different time, stuck in your bedroom with posters decorating the walls, the sweetness of lavender and vanilla hanging in the air, Dr. Phil reruns echoing down the hallways from the living room. You were eighteen again and so was he, silently begging each other to try a little harder, to have a little more faith, but too afraid to speak it aloud.

This time, you didn’t want to keep quiet. You remembered, almost too vividly, how painful it was to swallow your desires and leave him behind, how it never truly went away, how horrible it felt to chase your dreams without him by your side. You didn’t want that for him; you grew too much, worked too hard to end up in the same situation with just the roles reversed. You couldn’t let him go again, not without saying everything. You could leave no stone unturned, no matter how afraid you were of the outcome. You were so afraid of hurting him and yourself that you were doing it anyway, and if you had learned anything in your time loving Jake, it was that a single moment spent with him was worth any outcome, good or bad.

But, you promised him you would listen. The last few days, you had done all of the talking, made all of the decisions. It was his turn, and you had to allow him that.

“Back then, I thought it was so stupid… that you would think it was stupid, or corny, or whatever.” He swallowed hard, his eyes still focused on the plastic casing in his hand. “For a long time, that’s how I felt about it. Eight songs couldn’t even come close to how I feel about you, sunshine. Nothing could ever explain that, not even me. For six years, I thought there was just some stupid CD out in the world, or in the garbage somewhere, wondering why I couldn’t have been a little braver and said it aloud, rather than being a coward and biting my tongue. I hated that CD, because I always thought it wasn’t enough.”

“Jake, it was more than enough.” You stressed, gently placing the flowers down on the dining room table behind you.

“It wasn’t enough back then, but it was enough to bring you back now, sunshine.” He corrected you. “I wanted it to keep us together, but I’m okay with the fact it just took a while to work.” Before you could respond, you got distracted by the beauty of his face as he smiled softly, like he was proud of himself for phrasing it so perfectly. “I told you that night that it wasn’t over for us, that maybe it was just the time wasn’t right—Romeo and Juliet. That’s why I put that song on there.”

“I know that’s why, and I agreed with you.” You hummed, feeling that damn gravitational pull forcing you towards him again.

“Right, but I’m telling you that there’s no way in hell that the time was wrong twice.” He stepped towards you, wanting to take your face in his hands but holding himself back. “This is our second chance, our opportunity to do it right.”

“But it doesn’t—“

“It does.” He cut you off, knowing exactly where your mind was. “Those notifications, Y/N, all the rescheduled meetings and interviews… I know why you reacted like that, but it wasn’t what you thought it was.”

“Then what was it?” You hugged yourself a bit tighter, needing the security as he began to deconstruct even more notions in your mind.

“Josh.” He confessed, catching your eye so you could see the truthful intent.

Jake had always been a terrible liar, and in that moment, you couldn’t catch a single wisp of anything other than the truth.

“When you called, and we started talking again, he was even happier than we were, and it was his idea to put everything on pause so I could come here and make sure that I didn’t lose you again.” You felt a wave of sickness wash over you, guilt nipping at your skin and ravaging your heart and head. Jake didn’t put everything on pause and hinder himself and everyone else; everyone else was on board, pushing him back towards the girl he dreamt of every night for six years. You had jumped the gun, decided things for yourself and never gave him the chance to explain. “And if you think, even for a second, that I would want any girl that wasn’t you, you really have lost your mind, sunshine.”

“I didn’t…” you trailed off, knowing that you had indeed lost your mind. Believing that he would ever be unfaithful or disloyal to you was the most insane thing you had ever done, and punishing him for something you knew was not true was even worse. “I’m sorry, bug.”

“Amelie is our friend, yes, but more importantly,” he reached into his pocket, swiping the screen to unlock it and show you he was being honest. “Our photographer.” He flashed the screen in your direction, the text chain in question visible. The very message that put the nail in the coffin was followed by what looked like four pristine, stunning pictures of Jake on stage with his guitar in his hands, illuminated by the pyrotechnics with his hair sticking to his skin.

Although the topic at hand was more pressing, you could not deny the feeling rapidly growing in the pit of your stomach, worsening as you stared at the pictures of him, wondering if by chance you would be able to see the sight with your own eyes someday.

“I was bothering her all week to send me some of the shots she got… to show you.”

“Jake,” you took your face in your hands, squeezing your eyes shut as your heart ached for the boy who stood before you. How could you hurt him so badly, more than once? “I’m so, so sorry.”

“I’m not mad, or upset, or anything, sunshine. You deserve the truth, and that’s why I’m here.” As you pulled your hands away from your face, you saw him slip his phone back into his pocket. Then, his attention turned back to the plastic case in his hands as he drew in a long breath. “And the fucking truth is, I can’t go back to Nashville and leave things like this. I can’t be your friend, I can’t be in love but not together, and I won’t be a fucking stranger again. You found that box for a reason, and the reason is standing in front of you right now—the reason was the night at the hotel, and what should have been the last few days. The time isn’t wrong, sunshine. I’m here, telling you that I have never stopped loving you, not even for a minute. I waited so long for you to reach out, spent so many nights staring at the ceiling trying to remember what it felt like when you were laying next to me, and I don’t want to do that anymore, especially when I know that it feels just as good now as it did when we were eighteen.”

He didn’t give you the chance to interrupt, because he stepped forward and pulled your mind in an entirely different direction. The scent of his cologne, sandalwood and amber, so reminiscent of the only peace you had ever known, was impossible to ignore.

“I gave you eight songs when we were eighteen, and I let you walk away. That was the biggest mistake I have ever made, and I spent my whole life trying to figure out how to fix it.”

You looked upwards, intoxicated by his cologne and frozen in time as you locked eyes with him. Sometimes, when he was staring at you, it felt like the whole world stopped turning, like the only thing that existed was the love shared between you. Your heart, aching and yearning for the only thing you had ever loved, did not belong to you. It had always been in the palm of his hand, his name to be heard in every timely beat if you listened close enough, and it never felt right anywhere else. Even as you stood now, broken and bruised after so long of suffering, you knew it was the only place you ever wanted it to be.

“This time, I have eight songs that I’ll let you decide the meaning to. If you want to walk away again, I can’t stop you, but only if you really mean it sunshine. If there is any part of you that wants to try again, listen to it—to me, when I tell you how fucking much I love you, how badly I want this.” Your eyes fluttered closed, trying your best not to shed a tear as you clung to every word. How could you deny him? How could you push him out the door and risk the chance of losing him forever? You knew how miserable life was without him by your side, and sometimes you believed death would be preferable to the feeling of missing him. Constantly walking, functioning, breathing, but never enjoying it. The functions automatic, just for survival and never for anything more.

You were tired of surviving, because you knew that being with him was the only time it ever truly felt like you were living.

“No One Like You, The Scorpions.” He started, confidence returning to him when he did not hear any objections. “If I had to pick one song to describe exactly how it felt without you, that’s the one. In six years, I never met a single person that could even come close to you, sunshine. I waited every single day for this, just to be with you again, no matter what we were doing.” You didn’t think it was possible for your heart to break any more, but every time he spoke, it did just that.

“You’re In My Heart… Rod Stewart.” He hummed out the words, sending you a soft smile that made your stomach twist in on itself. “Because you’re in my heart, you’re in my soul… you’ll be my breath should I grow old…” He whispered, reciting the lyrics as the apples of his cheeks tinged red. He chuckled at himself, embarrassed at his own actions, but you couldn’t have fallen any further in love with him than you were in that moment.

“You’re my lover, you’re my best friend.” You finished for him, unable to hold back the smile that wanted to match his so badly. Reaching out, a gentle hand landed on his forearm to show him how much he meant to you and how true the words were.

“Carry On by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young.” He continued, listing off yet another song that would mean just as much to you in years to come, no matter the outcome. “For lots of reasons… listened to it a lot after you went to school. Guess the reason I put it on this one was because of that last line. ‘Lover, can you talk to me?’” He paused, reaching up to swipe away a single tear that escaped the corner of your eye. “We don’t have to just… carry on. We can figure it out together, as a team. Just like we always did back then.”

“I think I like the sound of that.” You admitted, the words slipping out faster than you could stop them. There was no more holding back; the floodgates had opened, and you too knew that there was no way you could send him back to Nashville and leave things like this.

“We’re Going Wrong.” He said, trying to get through the songs as fast as possible. “I listened to it the day you left for university, and I listened to it this week at the hotel. This is wrong, sunshine. All of it. The way we feel, being apart… it doesn’t have to be like this. Two people who love each other this much should be able to make it work.”

You didn’t give a verbal response, but you were sure he could see it in your eyes that you felt the same.

“I Can’t Tell You Why… last time, I threw a Bob Dylan song on the CD, and I know you hated it, even if you didn’t say it out loud. Maybe that was why it didn’t work.” At that, the two of you shared a true, genuine laugh that shook your shoulders and lessened the heartbreak for a moment. “To make up for it, I put an Eagles song on this one, ‘cause I know they’re your favorite. Lots to pick from, but I think that one gets the message across the best.”

“Me, too.” You hummed, unable to tear your eyes away from his, feeling an invisible force locking you into place. Every time you saw him, every single time his eyes connected with yours, the whole world felt right. It seemed as though when he was next to you, nothing could ever go wrong.

“Sweet City Woman.” He laughed to himself as he said it aloud, the blush on his cheeks darkening as he prepared to confess to the next one. “Sam went through this phase, way back when we first went on tour… swear to god, sunshine, he played this song every single day. Drank to it before shows, he danced around to it on the tour bus. Not sure what it was… maybe it was just catchy, upbeat, put him in a good mood and got stuck in his head… I used to get so mad at him, but it wasn’t because I hated the song, or anything like that. For the first little while, it was funny watching him sing along to it, but it always made me so fucking sad and I had no idea why. Went to bed early one night, they were all drinking and talking, and he put it on like usual… I was scrolling through old pictures, even though I knew I shouldn’t, and it made sense—that whole song, from the very first note, always made me miss you, because it reminded me of you. Bright and shiny, full of love and light…”

“Some things never change, Jacob.” You laughed, blinking back tears blurring your vision. The happy sadness was coating your words, stuck in your throat and warbling your tone.

“What do you mean?” He asked, fighting every urge to hold you until the sadness passed and only happiness remained.

“Hopeless romantic, just like always.” You whispered, feeling tempted by the softness of his lips, wondering if you could interrupt his grand show of affection and cut straight to the point. Remembering what it was like to kiss him and to touch him was tortuous enough without him within reach, but having him standing in front of you was worse than anything else. Still, you decided to let him finish, to say all he needed to get off his chest so the two of you could move forward.

“Only for you, Y/N. Always for you.” He hummed, the gentle tone matching yours. “Angel Eyes by The Jeff Healey Band… we were at a bar, Josh and I, not long after we released that first EP. Went on a big road trip to Toledo, just him and I, to get away and to distract me from being miserable—not sure why we picked Toledo, but whatever—anyway, we were at this dingy bar, losing money at a set of slot machines.” He cut himself off from rambling, bluntly getting to the main point of his story. At that, another laugh took hold, imagining the picture with the utmost clarity. “Someone threw this song on the old Jukebox, and I had never heard it before. Was an older couple, just starting to go gray and definitely hammered. Sunshine, they slow danced to that song like they were the only people in the room—no, in the world. I was drunk off draft, and mourning the three-hundred bucks I just threw in the machine, and I watched them the whole damn time.” He stopped himself, choked up and teary-eyed just at the memory. He shook his head, clearing his throat as he blinked away his own tears, unwilling to break down in front of you as he told the story.

“I just remember thinking to myself how much I wanted to do that with you, how badly I wanted that to be us—then and in twenty years, when your hair is turning gray and I’m going bald. It had been so long since I talked to you, since I saw you, and even then… I just knew, sunshine. I knew it was you, that it would always be you. Here in Michigan, at mom and dad’s house, in a taproom in fucking Toledo, at the Eiffel Tower in France, in that fucking hotel room in Italy—sunshine, it’s you. You’re the only thing I have ever wanted, and no matter where I am or what I’m doing, I want you there beside me. I knew that night that I couldn’t give up, because if I still loved you as much as I did when you left, it wasn’t worth letting go.”

“Jake,” you swallowed back a sob, your heart shattered in your chest and stabbing you with every breath, knowing that you felt all of the same things for just as long as he did. “I felt—I feel the same way. There was never another you, and I didn’t want to find one. I didn’t want anyone to take your place, or sleep in bed next to me. I didn’t want to learn anyone else’s favorite color, or how they drank their coffee. I wanted you.” He wanted to respond, but his eyes flickered to the CD, knowing he had one last thing to say before the conversation changed direction. You smiled, giving him a gentle nod as a silent permissive gesture. He let out a breath, happy to know you understood what he meant.

“Straight On, Heart.” He finished the tracklist, proud of himself for making it that far. “I’m here for a reason, sunshine, and you know exactly what it is.” He finished, standing still as he awaited your response. His breathing stopped, his eyes locked on you with no intent to move, wondering if after all this time it was finally enough. “Do you feel it too, or am I just fucking crazy?” Instead of responding, you reached your hand out, slow and steady as you extended it towards him. His gaze flickered towards your outstretched fingers, wondering what it meant and if he accepted, would it be for the reason he so badly wanted.

“Come on,” you emphasized your hand, raising an eyebrow at him. Cautiously, he reached out and laced his fingers with yours. “Come with me.” You whispered, taking a small step towards the hallway. Without a word, he followed behind, letting you lead him up the stairs and to your bedroom, the one in which you had created a lifetime's worth of cherished memories. “Sit.” You motioned towards the bed, reluctantly letting go of his hand as you ushered him away from you.

He did as you asked, still holding the CD close as he sat on the very edge of the bed, the same space you sat six years prior while he stood and poured his heart out to you. For a brief moment, you admired the sight of him in your bed again, feeling that it had been far long since you were able to experience something so beautiful. Then, forcing yourself to remember why you brought him upstairs in the first place, you took a step towards your desk. Your fingers clasped around the tattered shoebox, the fateful capsule of memories that brought you back to him in the first place. The shine of silver sharpie, half faded and covered with dust brought a smile to your face as you picked it up and brought it to him, taking a seat next to him on the mattress.

“The first Christmas after we broke up, I sat right here with Mom… I was so sad. I was sad every single day after I left, and sometimes it felt like I was drowning in it, like I would die if it didn’t get better.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but you knew he was listening to every word. “I listened to that first mixtape twenty-four seven, Jake. First thing in the morning, while I got ready for class, while I showered, when I went to bed. I had every scratch, skip, static, all of it, memorized. I thought about you every minute of every day, and dreamt about you while I slept. When I came home for the holidays, I was a fucking mess.” Listening intently without saying a word, his eyes seemed to be burning holes straight through you, putting you on display like never before.

“She was desperate to help, so she did the exact same thing she did when dad left; she helped me pack up every single memory and reminder of you we could find.” You felt the scratch of tears in your throat as you recalled the visceral pain as you packed your life’s greatest love away in a box to never be seen again. “Including the CD.” You flipped the top open, feeling a sinking feeling in your stomach for no real reason at all. The memories washed over you like summer rain, sweeter and warmer than ever before now that he was here to live it with you. You reached inside, your fingertips grazing over flower petals and baby’s breath from corsages and bouquets he didn’t even think you remembered.

“She packed it away somewhere, kept it out of sight until I was ready for it again. Think she thought that when I stumbled across it, I’d be healed and moved on… she never anticipated me to still be as in love with you as I was the day we put all of this stuff away.” You continued, carefully laying out tokens of love on the patterned cotton sheet below, showing him just how cherished and loved he was by you. “I always knew, Jake. I always knew that you would be that person for the rest of my life, no matter where I was or how long it had been since I saw you. When I opened this box… the whole world stopped. At first, it hurt so bad, but now I know that it happened for a reason.”

“I tried, for four years, to forget about you, to forget about how badly I missed you, how deeply I loved you. I buried myself in work, distracted myself with anything I could think of, and sure after a while the memories faded to the back of my mind, but that hollow feeling never left.” You scattered old guitar picks alongside flower petals, your fingers tracing the divots in the plastic from their prolonged use. Years of musical history lived within the flimsy fibers, contained within the box to keep them safe forever. Not a single moment of Jake’s life, of his love, or of his emotion went unnoticed by you, and not a single second did you ever take it for granted. Within your heart, it was forever sacred. “I had myself convinced that you moved on, that you forgot all about me and found a girl who could love you better than I could, back then. Not for a single second did I ever consider the idea that you were hurting just as bad as I was, because if I’m being honest, I never thought there was a universe that existed where you would not be loved so completely and wholly like you deserved.”

“When I found the box… as we sit here now, I know that you were always loved like that, even if you didn’t feel it or see it or hear it, because I never stopped.” You pressed your lips together tightly, locking up the cry that was desperate to escape as your fingers grazed the stack of old Polaroids. “Every single thing you ever gave me, every picture we took, every love letter you signed with your name, it’s all here, Jake. I kept it for a reason, because six years ago the universe knew I would need some motivation, some courage, to reach out and tell you that no matter how hard I tried, I could never forget you.”

“I remember everything. Where we took these pictures, how it felt to be loved by you in that moment, the sound of Josh laughing at us, the fucking sticky summer heat on my skin. All of these guitar picks—you gave me this one,” you pointed at a green one, smiling softly to yourself. “This one fell out of your pocket into the bed,” you pointed at a worn black one. “And I found this one in the bathroom, the night we decided to take a step back and figure our shit out before I left.” You took in a deep breath, calming your buzzing nerves as you continued to tell him everything you had kept secret for so long. “This sticky note, you left on my desk in senior year. English class, which you fucking hated, after the teacher got pissed off at you for talking to me. This rose petal came from the first bouquet of flowers you ever gave me, and this movie stub was from eleventh grade.” You stopped yourself, realizing you were rambling for no real reason at all other than to finally, truly express how much he meant to you.

“Point is, I didn’t forget anything. I convinced myself I did, ‘til it was in front of my face and I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I found this for a reason, and the reason definitely isn’t ’two people in love who can’t fully be together’.” You finished, catching his hopeful eye and feeling the same feeling blossoming in your own chest. “I was stupid, and I was scared, both times. I wish I could take that back, to make it right and make it up to you… I know I can’t, but I want to try, Jake. All those things I felt at the hotel, although they’re true, aren’t a good enough reason to give this up. My whole life, especially the last six years, I’ve come to terms with the fact that loving you is the only thing that I know how to do, and I don’t want to know anything or anyone else. You’re that person for me too, bug. You always have been.”

“Sunshine,” he breathed, his hand going in search of the items you held so close to your heart. As his calloused fingertips grazed the edge of the Polaroid picture, the very one of you sitting in the field, nestled so comfortably in his arms, you knew the exact feeling that washed over him. Seeing it after so long, having all of that love rush back and fill your body, it was almost too much to bear. Thankfully, this time, you had each other to lean on. “You have no idea how good it is to hear you say that.”

“I know you won’t throw your life away to be with me. I suppose I’m just so afraid… I’m afraid because I love you so much, Jake. Even while I went off, chasing my own dreams and building a new life… yours were still so important to me. I’ve been your biggest fan since the day I met you, and I know how hard you’ve worked to get here, and I don’t ever want to get in the way of that. I couldn’t handle it if I did and you resented me for it. I love you too much, Jake. Always have. Used to think it was a bad thing, but I know that it is the best thing in the whole fucking world. Loving you makes it worth it, and I want to live your dream with you, and now you can live my dream with me.” He haphazardly tossed all of the items back in the box, still cautious so as not to damage any of the precious memories, a blinding smile growing on his face the longer he worked at the task.

“Last time, I told you ‘we have tonight’.” He said, finally placing the box on the floor beside the bed and looking back at you. You hummed a noise of agreement, nodding ever so slightly. “What if it’s not just tonight, sunshine? It can be the rest of our lives. It can feel like this forever—I just need you to say yes. We can figure all of the hard shit out later, take it as it comes.” He watched you, waiting as you processed what he was saying. After a moment of prolonged silence, he spoke again. “I love you, sunshine. More than anyone or anything, and I will love you no matter if you’re mine or not. If we’re going to love each other anyway, let’s do it the right way.” Silence ensued once more, but not because you were hesitant. This time, it was because you had a hard time believing that it could be real, that he was here and the stars had aligned, that the time was finally right.

No more obstacles, no more fear, no more waiting for the one thing you had always dreamed about. He was here, eight more songs in hand, ready to love you for the rest of his life and unwilling to settle for anything less. You had never wanting anyone or anything more than this, more than him, and after spending so long lamenting about something you thought you may never get, it was difficult to trust that it could be so easy.

��What do you say, sunshine?” Clearly, the silence was affecting him a bit more than you realized, leaving him shifting nervously in his seat and desperate for an answer.

“Yes, Jake.” You breathed, nodding your head as a second form of reassurance. “Of course I’m going to say yes. I know I’ve been afraid, and stupid, but you are the only thing I’ve ever wanted. Being with you is the only thing that makes sense.” You explained, moving a bit closer to him in hopes he would take the hint. “I want to figure it out. I want us to work.”

Without another word, without any hesitation, he sprung forward like you had just given him the greatest gift in the entire world. His hands landed on your hips, and not long after his lips were on your own, showing you exactly how he felt about your decision. The feeling of his touch sent you spiraling, ascending to a height that only he could bring you to. His hands, warm and gentle, felt like they were burning straight through the cotton material covering your skin, leaving behind a mark to claim you as his own despite the fact you had always been his. Your arms wrapped around his neck, inviting him in and hoping he would choose to stay there forever so you would never have to suffer another minute without him.

It seemed like when he was touching you, the whole world was still; nothing else mattered, and nothing that would come after could ever compare. The only terrible part of it was the fact you could never get enough, that you couldn’t fathom the bliss coming to an end or how you could survive the loss of it. Although the two of you had grown accustomed to loss at each other's hands, it never made the hurt any easier nor the pain any less dignified.

“Jake, I need you.” You whispered, breaking from his kiss just long enough to utter the words.

Just like always, you did not have to ask him twice. Still high off the emotion-filled confessional, he stood and kicked the door shut, barely lingering to lock it before he was back by your side. His need, although unspoken, exuded from his actions and the familiar look in his eye. He had been waiting, patient and loving for you to give him permission to do the one thing he was put on earth to do.

As he climbed back on the bed, between your legs, you could not refute how innate the feeling was—nothing had ever felt so right, the weight of his body atop of yours, always secure and never intimidating. The softness of his lips against your skin, the love woven into the miniscule action enchanting and endless, reminding you of his heart and how it beat just for you. The rough calluses on his fingertips, igniting every bit of skin he touched and now, the tickle of his hair as it fell over his shoulders—all of it was a small piece of an even bigger picture, one in which you painted in your mind every night you spent without him, the bed empty yet somehow still sunken in by the weight of his memory beside you.

Loving him was the easiest thing you had ever done. Falling was never the question, and climbing out wasn’t even a possibility. Even if you were equipped with the skills to evade it, you didn’t want to. Even when you had yourself fooled, believing you had left it behind in the little hometown that would always haunt you, it was bound to catch up to you eventually.

When his lips connected with yours again, the sweet taste of his skin against the very tip of your tongue, you wondered if he was the very thing that breathed life into you. Your heart, mending just at the thought of a future with him, your soul shining brighter and threatening to burst from under your skin as he continued to love you. Without him, survival remained, but living was always the question. How can you truly enjoy your life when you always feel like there’s a part of you missing?

The feeling blossoming in the pit of your stomach, your skin aflame with his touch, the breathlessness in your lungs and the steady thud of your heart underneath your breastbone let you know that you were whole again—feeling every single sensation intensified by a million, you were living. Not waiting for the mediocre to pass you by, not gazing out into nothing and wondering if you would find something—he was there, invigorating and energizing parts inside you that you never thought would feel again, like he never even left at all.

As his hands slipped under your shirt, the slight scratch of his rough skin sending a shiver down your spine, you wondered how you ever had the ability to deny him at all. Walking away from that hotel room, leaving him behind and swallowing your sorrow may have been an act that hurt him, but you did so with the intent to keep him safe. It was never a selfish act, nor an intent to harm. You truly believed that by keeping your distance, you would protect the very heart that gave so much to you, that it would save him even more hurt in the long run. Now, feeling the emotion bleeding him dry, the beat of his heart against your own body, you saw a whole different side of the story. Leaving never protected either of you, not in the very beginning and certainly not now. Being with each other, living life alongside each other, seemed to be the only thing that would leave you both truly satisfied.

“Fuck,” you hissed through your teeth, all of the nerves in your body aflame as his palm landed over your chest, the warmth of his skin and the firmness of his touch sending electricity straight through you. Using his arm to push the fabric away from your torso, it slid upwards and bunched together around your shoulders, leaving you exposed and at his disposal.

He leaned down, his lips trailing over your stomach as he made it a point to show you just how much he held for you in his heart. Even if the intent was filthy, the act itself sinful, he treated you with care and caution, making sure you knew he would never lay a finger on you if it were for the wrong reasons. Just the same as an angry word would never pass his lips, a cruel name or even a negative thought in his head. When it came to you, love was the only thing that concerned him, and now that he had the second chance he had been waiting so patiently for he was determined to show you all of the things he was feeling.

With every kiss he placed on your skin, you felt his actions grow more careless. His tongue traced the same spots his lips once graced, and as he progressed further up your body, faint red marks remained from the suction of his cheeks, desperate to remind you of his company for days to come. Eventually, his mouth landed on your breast, his tongue grazing your hardened nipple and forcing your thighs to try and squeeze together, desperate for friction. He felt the pressure on his hips, settled carefully between them as you tried to relieve yourself without a second thought. You could feel him smile against you, only worsening the ache between your legs.

You wanted him so bad you could barely contain yourself, unable to enjoy the moment without feeling the need for more. A whine in the back of your throat only furthered his cockiness, letting him know he barely had to try to make you feel good. Every breathy moan and muffled sigh affected him, and you could feel his cock against your core, worked up just by touching you and asking for relief just at the thought of fucking you.

You slowly reached your hand between your bodies, wanting to feel him just the same as he was with you. As you palmed him through his pants, you felt his hips jut forward ever so slightly, unable to control the reaction he had to your hands on him.

“Impatient much?” He chastised you, his tone light and a small smile on his lips as he looked up at you through his lashes.

“Not impatient,” you huffed, your cheeks flushed from his constant attention. “Just know what I want.” A low chuckle shook his shoulders, finding your rebuttal humorous.

“Mhm,” he hummed an agreement, looking up at you with a shine of mischief in his warm brown eyes. “And that just so happens to be… me?” His torment was getting on your nerves, making you regret speaking at all.

“Obviously, Jake. Did you really need to ask that?” You rolled your eyes, watching his gaze flicker to your shirtless chest for a moment, like he was admiring the sight and unable to look away.

“No,” he grinned. “Just like to hear you say it.” You did not have time to think too long about his words, because his mouth was back on you, and this time as he kissed, his lips traveled downwards towards your navel. As he did so, you couldn’t find it in you to be annoyed with him any longer, too caught up in the rush of excitement that flooded your body and distracted by the thought of what was to come.

As his fingers dipped below the waistband of your pants, you had to bite down on your lip to keep yourself from crying out. He barely even touched you, yet everything he was doing felt fantastic. Just him being near made you want to fall to your feet, to beg him for more, for anything he was willing to give. You lifted your hips from the mattress, allowing him to slide your pajama bottoms and underwear down in one motion. Once he removed them from your legs, he tossed them to the floor without a single care in the world.

When his hands returned to your legs, your muscles tensed and twitched at the feeling. Slowly, he brought his lips back to your skin, grazing over the insides of your thighs. Your hands traveled downward, fingers lacing into the locks of his hair as he continued his torment.

Eventually, his mouth was hovering over your heat, a hunger in his eyes that you could not quite comprehend as you stared down at him. You could feel the arousal pooling, your need unfathomable as you understood how close you were to having him again. Despite all the heartbreak, the pain when he was gone, the minute he was in reach you were absolved of all the ailments.

Two strong hands on your hips, holding you firmly as he pulled you down on the mattress, connecting his mouth to your cunt with ease. A gasp fell from your lips, your abdomen tensing at the intensity of the feeling. His tongue settled over your entrance, savoring the taste of you for a moment.

When he began to move, slowly but intently through your folds until he landed over your clit, your hips raised off the bed to meet the time of his actions. His name, already caught in the back of your throat and stuck in your teeth as you tried to hold it back, was forcing its way out whether you wanted it to or not. He was barely tracing circles around your clit before your legs were trembling, and barely started before you felt the familiar sensation in the pit of your stomach.

Everything he did was fantastic, and it always seemed like he never even realized it.

If you had learned any lesson on your journey, it was that Jake was undoubtedly one of a kind, in a league of his own without even a thought of another contender.

“Always taste so fucking sweet, angel. Can’t believe it’s all for me.” His tone was raspy as he pulled back for just long enough to praise you, the sound washing over you as warm as summer rain.

For the briefest of moments, you were sixteen again, falling in love with him all over again and even more intensely than before. Back then, you did not know much about love or how to express it, but you always tried your best. Looking back on it, you understood that despite your lack of knowledge, you loved him better than you could ever love another, and he did the same with you. Now, you had grown and you had learned, all of the lessons you did not realize you needed to endure and all of the hardships you faced and never realized would help you in the future allowed you to love him with a whole new meaning, appreciating him for all he was and all he would be.

You were near twenty five, a quarter of a century spent fighting for happiness and figuring out what was right, finally at the destination you always knew you’d find.

You wished you could say it was only a part of you that forever belonged to Jake, even in his absence, but it was not true. All of you had always belonged to him, and trying to refute the fact was the stupidest thing you had ever done.

“Fuck, Jake.” You whined, the pleasure pulsing under your skin and infiltrating your veins. He was so phenomenal that he took over every thought and emotion, burrowing into your skin and making a home in all of the places you never suspected to find him. His memory was seared into your heart, hollowing out your bones and existing within them. Everything he was doing now served only as a reminder that you would never be able to escape the love he so often threw your way.

“Tell me how good it feels, baby.” He encouraged, his tone thick with desire as he used his thumb in place of his tongue. “You know it’s my favorite sound in the whole fucking world.” Overtaken with need, you let out a strained cry, wanting to give him anything and everything he ever asked for. He hummed against you as he traced your clit with his tongue, gentle praise to let you know how happy he was to hear it. He added his fingers to you, slowly pumping his middle and index fingers and curling them upwards in search of the spot he knew all too well.

Your hands in his hair tightened, drawing him nearer even though it was virtually impossible to do so. Your hips began a slow, steady rhythm to match the time of his tongue and hand, maximizing the pleasure he was granting you and desperate for more. The warm wetness of his tongue was divine, pushing you closer to the edge with every passing second and sparing you no mercy.

The searing heat of your skin, the glisten of sweat on your forehead and the rapid rise and fall of your chest let him know he had you exactly where he wanted you, and now that he did, he would never let it slip away.

The knot in the pit of your stomach began tightening, fraying under the pressure and threatening to snap. Your heart was pounding, wildly drumming against your chest and in your throat. Your lungs were burning, unable to catch up on the air you so desperately needed. As you struggled to comprehend the intensity of the feeling, you feared for a fleeting moment in time that you might die at his hand. Then, as the thought passed you by, you understood that it would be the most blissful end you could ever imagine. To die by his touch and the last sight be his eyes, you knew there would be no better. Whatever came after, wherever you landed, the memory would allow you to flourish under any circumstances.

“Oh god, Jake.” Your words served as a warning, close to an orgasm and left without control. It never took him long to get you where he wanted you, and that day proved no different.

He hummed against you, the soft vibration only heightened the feeling burning in the pit of your stomach. As your fingers tugged at the strands of his hair, your hips raised from the bed to meet the time of his tongue, your body in search of something you were unsure you could handle. Without any warning, the knot in your belly snapped under the pressure, leaving you unraveling beneath him, your throat aching as you cried out his name. Your mind was foggy, your thighs trembling as he held you in place, working you through the orgasm like it was his favorite pastime. He did not slow until your muscles relaxed and you were melting into the mattress below, and even when he pulled away, you knew it was not to give you any kind of break. He slid from the bed and freed himself from his pants and boxers with little effort, and before you knew it he was between your legs on his knees before you even came too, his cock resting against your entrance and his eyes fixated on your fucked-out expression. He was too desperate to wait any longer, not even long enough to fully rid himself of his clothes, but you did not mind one bit.

“Do you know how much I love you, sunshine?” He asked, anchoring his hands around your hips as he pulled you towards him. “Do you know how much you mean to me? How much this means to me?” Sliding his hands to the front of your thighs, he pushed your legs towards your stomach with his chest. “You are everything to me, Y/N. You always have been, and you always will be.” As he spoke, he pushed his hips forward, the stretch of you from his size delicious and intoxicating. “You’re home to me, Angel.”

“I do, baby.” You groaned, your head falling back on the pillows as his sweet words washed over you. “I feel the same, Jake. I always have.” You cried, feeling him withdraw and slam back into you.

Looking up at him, the overhead light highlighting the small details that drive you crazy, you noticed your previous orgasm still glistening on his chin. His pupils had engulfed his irises, blackened with lust and shining with desire. The raise of his shoulders with every heaved breath, the radiance of the little skin you could see. He was stunning, ethereal and god-like as he towered over you, and you still could not believe how lucky you were to be on the receiving end of his love.

As he fucked you, he used one hand to undo the last few buttons on his shirt, shaking it from his shoulders and tossing it lazily on the floor. The careless action sent a rush of pleasure straight to your core, making you wonder why everything he did was so fantastic, no matter what it was.

“Always feel so fucking good, sunshine.” He hummed, using his hands on your thigh to pull you down on him with every thrust of his hips. The impact made your legs feel like liquid, barely able to hold them up if not for his help. The curve of your ass fit perfectly against his hips, making the two of you privy to another way that proved you were meant to be together. “Just like you were fucking made for me.” At that, your walls fluttered around him, pulling him in deeper in hopes to keep him there forever.

Keeping his arm hooked around your thigh, he reached between your legs and settled his thumb over your clot, tracing slow circles as he continued on his steady pace. You were a mess for him, your throat raw as you hissed obscenities through your teeth. You reached up, curling your fingers around his biceps to keep yourself steady, the pulse of the pleasure sending you off kilter. Having him so close, so entirely, was a feeling you could not get from anything else. You wanted Jake, all of him, all of the time. Being deprived of it did not seem like such a big deal in the time you spent away, but now back in his arms, you knew how detrimental the loss was.

“Feels so fucking good, baby.” You whimpered, feeling the familiar sensation begin to burn in your belly again. “You make me feel so good.”

“That’s right, sweetheart.” He hummed, applying a touch more pressure with his thumb. “Nobody else could make you feel like this, right?” He delivered a particularly sharp slam of his hips, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

“Only you, Jake. Nobody else.” You cried the agreement, wanting him to know that it was not only fact, but law. He was the only person in the entire world that could ever make you feel so good, so loved. He knew you better than anyone, and he loved you better than anything. He was in a league of his own, no contender even possible.

“And why is that, angel?” He asked, the force of his thrusts increasing, but not his speed. Every time he moved, you could feel him brush against the sensitive spot inside of you only he knew of. He was intent on driving you crazy, and he was making quick work at it. “Tell me why that is.” He ordered, his tone a bit more curt as he spoke for the second time.

“Because I’m yours,” you gasped, your hips raising to meet his when a particularly sharp pull of pleasure took hold. “I’m all yours Jake.”

“Exactly, baby.” He huffed, seemingly faltering at the sound of your words. “Because you’re all mine.” The possessiveness did nothing but further your pathetic need for him. All you had ever wanted to be was his, and knowing he wanted it just as bad was almost too much to bear.

His fingers seemed to be searing into your skin, the heat of his touch almost painful as he fucked into you, but you could not get enough of it. The marks that were destined to be left behind would remind you of him when he was on his flight back to Nashville, a gentle promise that he would be back again and the distance would not wear on his ability to love you. You felt greedy, wanting him to mark up your skin and leave his memory embedded in your soul, needed to hold on to every piece when he was far away. The thought used to scare you, worry you that in his absence, his fondness would falter. Now, you knew that would be impossible. There was no amount of distance, in this life or the next, that would lessen his love for you. He loved you the same as you loved him, and because of that, you knew it to be infinite.

“I want you to cum for me, sunshine.” He pulled you down on him again, his thumb still tracing circles as his hips moved in time. You could not verbally respond, instead feeling a guttural moan tear straight through your chest. He did not need to ask more than once, and in truth, he never needed to ask at all. You were teetering on the edge, close from the very moment he pushed inside of you, wanting nothing more than to give him anything and everything he wanted.

Your eyes squeezed shut, your muscles tensing as you felt the fire blazing within you become too much to withstand. With one last thrust of his hips, for the second time that night he had turned you into a mess below him. As the sweet sounds fell from your lips, he reveled in the feeling, unable to express the pride he felt knowing he had such an effect on you.

“There you go, angel.” He praised your hard work, finding it difficult to hold himself back as his name was spoken so beautifully between the slur of curses. You were worse than any addiction he had ever experienced, your hold on him so strong that he would go to the ends of the earth for you. “God, you take it so fucking well.” He huffed, a groan falling from his lips as he lost his own composure.

When you came down from the high, you had no time to recover, his pace never slowing and his thumb never letting up. The sting of overstimulation began to terrorize your nerves, driving you near insanity as you squirmed under his touch. You didn’t want him to stop, willing to take every uncomfortable second if it meant he would stay right there and never leave again.

“Doing so good, sweetheart. Just a little longer.” He encouraged, noticing your expression shift. “Always such a good girl for me.” You did not respond, instead feeling tears sting your eyes as the irritating feeling took over your entire body.

“Oh, fuck, Jake!” You exploded, your throat raw as you sang his name. It was like music to his ears, like it was a hymn and he was the god you prayed to. As long as he had a say, he never wanted that to change.

“That’s it, angel.” He growled, his head falling back and exposing the columns of his neck. You stared up at him, wondering how you could feel something so sinful and immoral at the same time as you felt such innocent and beautiful love for the boy. Jake made you feel a million things all at once, which was part of the reason he was so fantastic. He made you feel things you weren’t even sure you could, things you did not even know existed.

“Ah, fuck.” He hissed. Then, a growl came straight from his chest, framing him closer to a wild animal than the love of your night. He withdrew his hips, then in one swift motion, got out from between your legs and slipped his arm under your waist. Easily, he flipped you onto your stomach, the suddenness taking you by surprise and quickly making you forget about the nagging overstimulation.

Within seconds, he was back on top of you, straddling your thighs as he lined himself back up with you. When he fucked into you, the tightness of your body and the size of him sent you into bliss, only furthered when his hand raised to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair as he gently pulled your head backwards. As his hips found a new pace, he leaned his upper half down towards you, his lips settling just over your ear as he placed a kiss to it. A shiver ran down your spine, but you couldn’t find the words to tell him how good it felt. Instead, when he pulled your head to the side and connected your mouths, you let him drink in every pathetic whine and cry, needing him to feel it instead of hear it.

Only when he was desperate for air did he pull away, his skin burning and his eyes crazed as he looked over your expression. Your flushed cheeks and shining eyes had always been his favorite sight in the whole world, and after watching you come undone by his doing twice, he was barely hanging on to his own sanity.

“Can you give me one more, angel?” He whispered, his cock brushing against your g-spot with every thrust of his hips. Your skin was electric, your nerves on fire and your legs trembling.

“D-don’t know, Jake.” You stuttered the response, wanting to do whatever he asked of you but feeling the tiredness set in. The rollercoaster of emotions and the surplus of pleasure had left your mind greatly depleted, your energy non-existent, and your eyelids heavy.

“You can do it, baby. Know you can, for me.” He continued, placing a gentle ghost of a kiss to your cheek. You nearly melted at the touch, and now that he had phrased it in such a way, you believed anything would be possible so long as the reward was his happiness. He was right—it wouldn’t take much at all to send you over the edge again, and if he continued to whisper the sweet words in your ear, you would be long gone before he even realized it.

You tried not to think about how good he felt inside of you, the stretch against him as he fucked you, how perfect his body fit against yours and how right it felt to be with him. It seemed like every time you let your mind linger on it, the pull of pleasure was too strong to resist, and you feared you might not be able to survive through another orgasm. Still, you felt it coming, your skin tingling as he continued to push you closer to it, little remorse in his heart.

“J-Jake,” you whined, your fingers gripping at the sheets as your burning cheek pressed against the pillow.

“That’s it, baby.” His tone was breathy, far away as he listened to the sound of yours. You knew him so well, even after so much time, and you could tell he wasn’t far behind you.

A particularly drawn out moan that sounded from behind you sent your body into overdrive, all of your nerves ignited with the same fire as before. Without warning, you cried out his name, your hands gripping the sheets to hold yourself steady as you felt the euphoric sensation begin to take over. This time, he couldn’t help but join you, the urge tempting him too greatly to dismiss. You felt his fingers on your skin, holding on to you just as tightly as you held the sheets, like the only grounding thing in the world was you.

Then, ever so gently, your name crossed his lips, softly and sweetly like he did not even mean to speak it aloud. The thought of you bringing him to such a state only furthered the ravenous feeling. You felt your walls clench around him, drawing him in further as he spilled his release into you. The climax was more intense than anything you had ever felt before, lasting long enough for you to beg for mercy, but you knew every second of it was meant to be cherished. Soon enough, he would be on a flight back to Nashville and you would be wishing for his company again, willing to give up everything just for a moment.

When you both came down from the high, Jake continued to rest inside of you as he gently laid atop of you, careful not to put too much weight on you but unable to resist the urge to be close with you. The warmth of his body sent you straight into bliss, your tired eyes and mind finally resting now that you were in his arms. Life felt good—it felt right. Being without him, no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself that it was for the best, always felt wrong. You were eternally grateful for his persistence and his never changing love for you. You were blessed beyond what many ever experienced from receiving his love alone.

The soft thud of his heart was soothing, his fingers mindlessly playing with the ends of your hair as he enjoyed the intimacy of the moment.

“There’s nothing else in the entire world that I want more than this, sunshine.” He whispered, his voice soft and tired. For a single moment, you felt selfish enough to want him to close his eyes and stay there with you forever, nothing to worry about other than sleep and the surplus of love in your hearts.

“Me either, Jake.” You confessed, feeling him slowly withdraw from you. He rolled onto his side, draping an arm over your waist as he pulled you into him. Turning towards him with a small smile decorating your lips, you hoped he knew how true it was.

“So,” he breathed, brushing your hair from your face so he could appreciate your beauty to the fullest extent “Is that it? Are we going to make this work?” You couldn’t help but laugh, a small giggle filling the air between you.

“Yeah, I’d really like that.” You nodded, your heart warm and your mind at ease. “I’m sorry I was so stupid. Just didn’t want to hurt you again.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” He assured you, laying forward and placing a delicate kiss to your forehead. “If that’s the case—“ a mischievous smile sent your stomach fluttering with nervousness, but it was a feeling you had grown quite used to in his company. “Would you be my girlfriend, sunshine? Again? I promise we’ll do it right this time.”

“Think that goes hand in hand with making it work, don’t you think?” You teased, raising your hand to his face. You let your thumb trail over his cheek, trying to re-familiarize yourself with all of his intricacies.

“Never hurts to ask.” He let out a small chuckle, love shining in his eyes more than ever before, if it were even possible. “Is that a yes?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly wanting to hear the words come straight from your mouth.

“Yes, Jake. I want to be your girlfriend… again.” You grinned, finding the words a bit silly considering you never once felt like you weren’t his in the first place.

Leaning forward and pulling you into a kiss, the enthusiasm in his action told you everything you needed to know about how happy he was to hear it.

As the two of you laid there, infinitely intertwined with each other in the very same bedroom it ended once before, you felt the world was beginning again—the birds were chirping, the flowers blooming, and the sun shining. The misery once housed within the walls had disappeared entirely, replaced instantly with all of the love you had held and locked up inside your heart for so long. The most precious part of it all was not the warmth within you, but the fact you knew he felt the same way, bright and shiny and new again, ready to start over and make up for the mistakes your younger selves made so long ago.

“Just because I’m leaving sunshine, doesn’t mean I want to let this go. I think you know by now, I’ll do anything to make it work. It’s gonna be hard, for a little while at least, but I promise we can figure it out.” He spoke slowly, carefully, like he was afraid to make a wrong move and ruin the progress the two of you had made. You wished you could assure him that it was alright, that you had grown up and calmed down, and that nothing could ever force you away from him again. You knew that words would not satisfy that fear, so instead you vowed to prove it to him, no matter how long it took.

“Me, too.” You hummed, your eyes heavy and ready for rest, feeling at home beside him. “Maybe back then the time was wrong, but you’re right. I found that box for a reason, and we’re here for a reason. The right decision isn’t supposed to hurt, and walking away from you hurts more than anything. I’m not letting you go again, Jake. I love you just as much as I did when I was eighteen, and I know it’s not going anywhere. No matter if you’re halfway across the world or right here beside me, this is worth fighting for.”

He did not respond, but his head on the pillow inched closer to yours, a silent show of agreement for all you had said. You had always been good at talking too much, and he was an expert in not talking enough, but it was a perfect balance for the two of you, only showcasing the million other ways the two of you equaled each other out. As silence fell between you again, comfortable and secure, you felt the heaviness of your eyes seep into your bones, weighing you down and melting you into the mattress below you. The softness of his breathing and the looseness of his arm draped over you let you know that he was succumbing to the same things, uncaring about anything in the world and just happy to be there with you.

And for the first time in a really long time, you didn’t care about a single thing, either. For the first time in a really long time, the tacky paint and the abhorrent pattern on your bedsheets, the creaky floorboards and the scent of lavender and vanilla, the chestnut dresser and the haunt of an overly familiar tune was not off putting to you—it was home again, and the credit could not go to the bones of the house, hidden behind plaster and drywall, nor the memories burrowed so deep within them or the familiarity of the place—it was because of him, the heat of his body and the steady rise and fall of his chest, loving you even amidst sleep, because it was the only thing he ever knew how to do.

If you had learned anything at all, it was that Jake always was and would forever be home to you, and that living would only ever feel right so long as he was there beside you.

TAGLIST: @anythingforjtk @highway-tuna @klarxtr @hollyco @thetroublegetssoloud71 @ageofbajabule @dannys-dream @raceb14 @watchingover-hypegirl @starshine-gvf @do-it-jakey-baby @gretavansara @jakesbeloved @woyayaofdreams @jakeyt @kiszkas-canvas @gracev0609 @josh-iamyour-mama @musicspeaks @gretavangroupie @gretavanmoon @gvfmarge @takenbythemadness @fleetingjake @outlinedingold

If I’m missing anyone, please please let me know! After so many months and so much mess, my docs are a nightmare and I seem to have misplaced my taglist for melodic memories. i love you all, and thanks for sticking around 🤍

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bradleysass · 22 hours ago

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Road Trip - word count: 650 - Jegulas w/ Rosekiller & Sirius

The air smelled of smoke, the kind that clung to clothes and hair, mingling with the faint scent of petrol and regret. The five boys stood in front of a dilapidated petrol station, their faces illuminated by the orange glow of the flames licking the night sky behind them.

“Well,” Sirius said, casually flicking a cigarette away and leaning against the beat-up van they’d somehow managed to keep running, “I think that went pretty well.”

“‘Pretty well’?” Regulus hissed, shoving his older brother in the shoulder. “You set the bathroom on fire, Sirius!”

“That was an accident!” Sirius protested, though his grin displayed zero remorse.

“Was it, though?” Barty drawled from where he lounged against the van’s hood, his boots kicked up like he didn’t have a care in the world. “I distinctly remember you saying, ‘Wouldn’t it be hilarious if this place went up in flames?’”

“Okay, technically I said that before the explosion,” Sirius corrected.

Evan snorted, tossing his leather jacket into the van before joining Barty on the hood. “I’m just saying, the fireworks might have been a bit overkill.”

“Fireworks?!” Regulus turned his glare toward Evan now. “You brought fireworks?”

“Mate,” Evan said, his voice slow and smooth like molasses, “if you’re going to blow something up, you might as well make it look good.”

Regulus let out an exasperated groan, dragging his hands through his hair. “We can’t keep doing this. Every single place we stop ends up—” He gestured wildly at the raging inferno behind them. “Like this!”

James, who had been suspiciously quiet until now, stepped between the brothers, clapping a hand on Regulus’s shoulder. “Relax, love. It’s not like anyone saw us.”

“James,” Regulus deadpanned, “this is the third time this week. At this rate, we’ll have every magical law enforcement officer in the country on our tail.”

“Fourth, actually,” Barty corrected, holding up a finger. “You’re forgetting the inn with the haunted barstools.”

Sirius snorted, nearly doubling over with laughter. “Oh, Merlin, the barstools!”

“Focus!” Regulus snapped, glaring at all of them. “Do any of you have even an ounce of self-preservation?”

James tilted his head, pretending to think about it. “Does loving you count?”

Regulus flushed, his mouth opening and closing like a fish before he finally managed to snap, “That’s not the point!”

Evan slid off the hood, sauntering over to the passenger side of the van. “Look, Reggie, we’re alive, aren’t we? No one’s caught us yet, and we’re making great time.”

“To where?” Regulus demanded, throwing his hands up. “What’s the actual plan here?”

Barty grinned, spinning the car keys on his finger. “To see the world, obviously. And leave it in flames wherever we go.”

“That’s not a plan, that’s a crime spree!”

“And yet,” Sirius interjected, slinging an arm around his brother’s shoulders, “you’re still here. Which means you’re having fun, even if you won’t admit it.”

Regulus glared at Sirius, then at James, who was grinning at him like an idiot. “I hate all of you,” he muttered.

James leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to Regulus’s temple. “Love you too, darling.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Regulus grumbled, though he didn’t pull away.

The group piled back into the van, the flames roaring higher behind them as James gunned the engine. As they sped down the empty road, the firelight faded into the distance, leaving only the faint scent of smoke and the promise of more chaos to come.

“I’m serious, though,” Regulus muttered from the passenger seat, glaring at James, who had stolen his spot on the driver’s side. “Next time, no fires.”

James grinned, one hand on the wheel and the other resting casually on Regulus’s knee. “Whatever you say, Reg.”

But as Sirius and Barty exchanged knowing smirks in the backseat, it was clear to everyone that the next destination was bound to go up in flames—just like all the rest.

#marauders #jegulus #rosekiller #starchaser #sunseeker #james potter #regulus black #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #sirius black #microfic

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the-cactus-taco · 3 days ago

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OK, I liked writing the last one so much I wrote another dumb little mirrorverse fic. This one’s a bit spicier than the other, but nothing that goes against Tumblr terms of service. again, sorry for any typos

Romantic relationship: fresh x greaser x lust

CW: arousal, possession, loss of control, and of course:

(sorry I’ve been wanting to use that gift forever)

Anyways, here it is

You’re enjoying this a bit much, aren’t you?

The doctor taped his pen against his clipboard. Unsure of what to do. “Hey baby doll~ need somethin?” Called his lab assistant. Greaser sans was tall compared to the doctor, yet he and his other partner still called him— “ah, Lab Rat… yes I am in need of something”

“What can I help ya with?” He said, sitting down backwards on a near by chair. Leaning against it’s headboard. “I don’t have enough data on fresh’s possession ability to form a proper hypothesis for this particular scenario…” he rubbed his chin, before glancing to his assistant and looking him up and down. A devious grin growing on his face “But… I know where I can get some~”

The doctor called fresh into the testing chambers, before telling him and rat of his plans…

“You w-want him to posses… me??” Greater stammered “precisely~” replied doc. “With you as a willing participant, I could collect much more data before separation. And you and fresh could spend some… quality time, together~” greaser’s blue blush flared as fresh put a hand on his shoulder. “Chillax broski! It’ll be rad!”

Fresh stretched his arms above his head. “So when do we do we start?” The doctor began taking notes “whenever you’re both ready~” fresh smiled and looked over to rat, cupping his face in one hand. His other hand slid down his own throat, pulling up a single writhing purple parasite. Fresh held in over the other’s face, as to drop it in his mouth. “Open wide~” he cooed.

Grease was shaking in his boots. His normal witty banter falling completely silent as he looked up at the parasite above him. Fresh’s face went from satisfied to concerned and contemplative. Before he let go of rat’s face and dropped the parasite on the floor. The purple star crawling back in through Fresh’s pant leg “this don’t feel right… “ he said, tapping his foot. “Heya doc!” He called “yes fresh?” The doctor replied

“Would it mess up yo research if I was the one to get in there?” Questioned the colony. “and… What do you mean by that?” Fresh looked to rat and bent down to meet their eyes. Staring deep into their soul. “I want in there… no arms. Me.” The authority in Fresh’s voice sent a shiver of anticipation through greaser. Doc taped his pen to his chin. Before a look of realization bloomed on his face “you… want to posses him with your core instead of one of your arms…?”

“Bingo!” Fresh replied. Complete with finger guns.

“You’ve never shown interest in something like that before…” replied doc. “Heh, yeah…” fresh cupped greasers face with his hand again. “Never had someone interest me like this till now…” at this point, greasers entire face is glowing bright blue. Causing doc to chuckle at the site. He gave a warm smile to his partners, happy to see them so infatuated with each other. “Yes fresh… this will affect my research. But seeing as you also have an interest in this Avenue, I believe it will be valuable nonetheless. So we shall proceed.”

Fresh pumped his fist in the air and moved to the center of the room. He spread his arms wide and took a deep breath, before his body seemed to disintegrate, leaving a pile of parasites where he once stood. The parasites crawled away into the containers lining the walls built just for them. Eventually, all that was left, lying on the floor, was the biggest parasite.

The creature’s eye soon snapped open, zeroed in on greaser. “T-thats still him..?” Rat managed to choke out. “Yes. That is the hive’s core. Think of it as a queen bee. It’s the glue that holds the rest of the colony together.” The doctor replied. Rat looked between fresh and doc before stammering “w-what now?” Doc chuckled under his breath “simply approach whenever you are ready~”

Greaser looked to the floor, slowly creeping towards the parasite. “H-hey doll… it’s me! You can see me.. r-right?” But before he could form another thought, the star leaped at rat’s face, knocking him onto is back.

Greaser grabbed at fresh, rolling around like he was on fire. “Let him in, sweetheart~ I can’t do any testing if you resist~” doc reminded him. Rat remembered the thing on his face was his friend, his partner, and tried to relax. The parasite weaseled its way into his mouth, and down his non-existent throat. Causing the other to choke and gag.

In an instant, greaser felt as if he was being embraced on all sides. Every part of him held close, as fresh wrapped himself around rat’s soul. Grease began to quiver, eye lights going wide under his sunglasses. Pure euphoria coursed through his veins as what felt like a kiss was pressed into his very being. Rat let out a small wine as fresh took over. A puff of rainbow smoke engulfing his body.

Greaser awoke in is own mind. It felt as if he was floating in a void. He could see through is eyes, but he couldn’t move. couldn’t speak. Yet he felt so… safe. It still felt as if he was being hugged form all angles. An embrace so close that two became one. Loosing control… it felt… good. Less like a forceful eviction, and more Like his partner gently pulling him to the side, kissing him, and saying “don’t worry my love. I’ll take it from here.”

Rat relaxed in is mind scape. Metaphysical eyes rolling back in his head as he soked in fresh’s intent

Your mine/can’t escape/part of the swarm/part of me

Doc coughed on the smoke, waving his hand in front of his face. As greaser stood, the smoke cleared. Reviling his new appearance. The possessed rat shot the doctor a pair of finger guns“Hey-o baby! How’s ma favorite doc doin?” The doctor chuckled at Fresh’s advance. “Doing wonderfully sweat heart~ how do you feel?”

“Radder then eva broski!” And the doctor could tell. As sparks of magic, usually reserved for if monsters showed affection (hugging, kissing, purring), were shooting off greaser’s body at an almost alarming rate. As if his test subject’s entire existence as an act of love. And it was.

“Alright you two… it’s time to get to work~” doc said with a mischievous grin. The doctor ran a full physical on the fused pair. Along side some strength and magic tests. In all It took just about two hours to collect all the data doc wanted.

Greaser sat on an examination table as doc jotted down some final notes. “Now then… that is more then enough for today. Boys…” doc glanced to fresh and rat, before pausing. Examining the two. Fresh rubbed grease’s thighs together impatiently. Their ecto drenched in sweat. And the way they looked- no- stared at him. Even through their glasses, it was a look lust knew well. “My my~” he began “you two are enjoying this quiet a bit… aren’t you~”

Greaser screamed out from within his mind. YES. GOD YES. He was enjoying every moment of this connection more than anything he ever had before. The feeling of being engulfed in someone else’s intent. The feeling of fresh gently moving his body for him. It felt like he was in heaven. Fresh was enjoying this too. The feeling of power, of control… but most tantalizing, trust. Greaser truly trusted him with his body. A sensation fresh rarely if ever felt from his hosts. The words spilled from their mouth as they were lost in each other. “Absolutely~”

Doc’s smile grew as he stepped forward, placing a hand on their partners face. His thumb rubbed their cheek. “Well then… I believe another type of testing is in order… wouldn’t you say~” both fresh a greaser salivated at the idea “Of corse!!” They blurted out.

Lust backed away, setting down his clipboard. His voice was silken and sweet “Follow me~” he said. Gesturing towards the door. Fresh and greaser hoped off the table and ran after the doctor. Lust slipping off his lab coat and hanging it up as they left. After exiting the laboratory, they moved into their shared bedroom at the end of the hall.

They had the whole night to themselves. And they were gonna make it count.

…

Later that night, the pair were cuddling in bed. Fresh felt a tad worried about how long he’d stayed in his friend’s body, and began to crawl out through their mouth. Only for grease to slap and hand over fresh’s exit. Keeping him inside. The parasite was confused. Before tasting the intent behind the action

I’m yours/stay with me/part of the swarm/part of you

Fresh paused for a moment. Realizing that, never in his vast lifetime had someone with for him to stay with them. Be part of them. Fresh’s tentacles wrapped back around the other’s delicate soul. Cradling it as if it was his whole world. A small sound escaped rat’s mouth as he began to purr of his own fruition. fresh snuggled tighter as grease began to drift to sleep

The next morning, rat was disappointed to find himself back to normal. Only to fluster at the realization that fresh was back to his normal self as well. But not only that, he was also in bed with them, snuggled against greaser’s back. As lust held him from the front, grease was trapped in the middle of a cuddle pile. And he couldn’t be happier. Smiling, purring, and deciding that waking up could wait a little longer.

#art #writing #fan fic #utmv #MV fresh #fresh sans #MV lust #lust sans #MV greaser #greaser sans #suggestive

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gods-favorite-autistic · 1 year ago

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HELP I WAS JUST TRYING TO EAT LUNCH AND A JUNIOR CAME UP TO ME AND ASKED ME OUT????!?!

LIKE WHAT ABOUT ME JUST EATING LUNCH WITH MY HEADPHONES ON BLASTING MUSIC MADE YOU THINK I WANT A FUCKING SUITOR WHO IS TWO YEARS OLDER THAN ME????

I GAVE HIM MY NUMBER CUZ I DIDNT KNOW WHAT TO DO????

#I am blocking this man the second he texts me #bro heard I was a freshman and did not skip a beat #he kept being like ‘you’re so pretty 😘’ and I was just sitting there like ‘…thanks’#at one point he said ‘you look like you’re single????????’#in what world is that a pickup line AND HAS THAT EVER WORKED FOR YOU????#maddy’s thoughts (taken straight from the brain)#this one man is going to make me anti man

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creepyclothdoll · 17 days ago

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The Devil's Wheel

The Devil’s Wheel

“If you say yes,” said the Devil, “a single man, somewhere in the world, will be killed on the spot. But three million dollars is nothing to sneeze at, missus.”

“What’s the catch?” You squint at him suspiciously over the red-and-black striped carnival booth. You’re smarter than he thinks you are– a devil deal always has a catch, and you’re determined to catch him before he catches you.

“Well, the catch is that you’ll know you did it. And I’ll know, too. And the big man upstairs’ll know, I ‘spose. But what’s the chariot of salvation without a little sin to grease the wheels? You can repent from your mansion balcony, looking out at your waterfront views, sipping a bellini in your eighties. But hey, it’s up to you– take my deal or leave it.”

The Devil lights a cigar without a match, taking an inhale, and blowing out a cloud of deep, sweet-smelling tobacco laced faintly with something that reminds you of rotten eggs. If he does have horns, they’re hidden under his lemon yellow carnival barker hat. He wears a clean pinstripe suit and a red bowtie. No cloven hooves, no big pointy fork, but you know he’s the Devil without having to be told. Though he did introduce himself.

He’s been perfectly polite.

You know you need the money. He knows it too, or he wouldn’t have brought you here, to this strange dark room, whisking you away from your new house in the suburbs as fast as a wish. Now you’re in some sort of warehouse, where all the windows seem to be blacked out– or, maybe, they simply look out into pitch darkness, though it is the middle of the day. A single white spotlight shines down on the two of you.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” you say. “I bet the man is someone I know, right? My husband?”

“Could be,” the Devil says with a pointed grin. “That’s for the wheel to decide.”

He steps back and raises his black-gloved hand as the tarp flies off of the large veiled object behind him. The light of the carnival wheel nearly blinds you. Blinking lights line the sides. Jingling music blares over speakers you can’t see. The flickering sign above it reads:

THE DEVIL’S WHEEL

“Step right up and claim your fortune,” the Devil barks. “Spin the wheel and pay the price! Or leave now, and a man keeps his life.”

You examine the wheel.

The gambling addict

The doting boyfriend

The escaped convict

The dog dad

The secretive sadist

“These are all the possible men I can kill?” You ask, thumbing the side of the wheel. It rolls smoothly in your hand. Then you quickly stop, realizing that this might constitute a spin under the Devil’s rules. He flashes a smile at you, watching you halt its motion.

“Addicts, convicts, murderers– plenty of terrible options for you to land on, missus!”

“Serial wife murderer?”

“Now who would miss a fellow like that? I can guarantee that the whole world would be better off without him in it, and that’s a fact.”

The hard worker

The compulsive liar

The animal torturer

The widower

The desperate businessman

The failed musician

The beloved son

“My husband is on here too,” you say.

“Your husband Dave, yes. The wheel has to be fair, otherwise there’s simply no stakes.”

“I know what’s gonna happen,” you say, crossing your arms. “This wheel is rigged. I’m gonna spin it around, and it’ll go through all the killers and stuff, and then it’s gonna land on my husband no matter what.”

“Why, I would never disgrace the wheel that way,” the Devil says, wounded. “I swear on my own mother’s grave– may she never escape it. In fact, take one free spin, just to test it out! This one’s on me, no death, no dollars.”

You cautiously reach up to the top of the wheel and feel its heaviness in your hand. The weight of hundreds of lives. But also, millions of dollars. You pull the wheel down and let it go.

Clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity

Round and round it goes.

The college graduate

The hockey fan

The Eagle Scout

The cold older brother

The charming younger brother

The two-faced middle child

The perfectionist

The slob

Your husband Dave

Clackity-clackity-clackity.

Finally, the wheel lands on a name. A title, really.

The photographer

“Hmm, tough, missus, but that’s the way of the wheel. But hey, look! Your husband is allllll the way over here,” he points with his cane to the very bottom of the wheel, all the way on the other side from where the arrow landed. “As you can see, it’s not rigged. The wheel truly is random.”

“So… there really isn’t another catch?” You ask.

“Isn’t it enough for you to end a man’s life? You need a steeper price? If you’re really such a glutton for punishment, I’ll gladly re-negotiate the terms.”

“No, no… wait.” You examine the wheel, glancing between it and the Devil.

You really could use that three million dollars. Newly married, new house, you and your husband’s combined debt– those student loans really follow you around. He’s quite a bit older than you, and even he hasn’t paid them off yet, to the point where the whole time you were dating you watched him stress out about money. You had to have a small, budget wedding, and a small, budget honeymoon. Three million dollars could be big for the two of you. You could re-do your honeymoon and go somewhere nice, like Hawaii, instead of just taking two weeks in Atlantic City. You deserve it.

Even so, do you really want to kill an innocent photographer? Or an innocent seasonal allergy sufferer? Or an innocent blogger? Just because you don’t know or love these people doesn’t mean that someone doesn’t.

The cancer survivor

The bereaved

The applicant

Some of these were so vague. They could be anyone, honestly. Your neighbors, your father, your friends…

The newlywed

The ex-gifted kid

The uncle

The Badgers fan

“My husband is a Badgers fan,” you say.

“How lovely,” the Devil says.

Then it hits you.

Of course.

The weightlifter.

The careful driver.

The manager.

The claustrophobe.

Your husband Dave lifts weights at the gym twice a month. You wouldn’t call him a pro, but he does it. He also drives like he’s got a bowl of hot soup in his lap all the time, because he’s afraid of being pulled over. He just got promoted to management at his company, and he takes the stairs to his seventh-story office because he hates how small and cramped the elevator is.

“I get your game,” you announce. “You thought you could get me, but I figured you out, jackass!” “Oh really? What is my game, pray tell?” The Devil responds, leaning against his cane.

“All these different titles– they’re all just different ways to describe the same guy. My husband isn’t one notch on the wheel, he’s every notch. No matter what I land on, Dave dies. I’m wise to your tricks!”

The Devil cackles.

“You’re a clever one, that’s for sure. I thought you’d never figure it out.”

“Thanks but no thanks, man,” you say with a triumphant smirk. “I’m no rube. No deal. Take me back home.”

“As you wish, missus,” the Devil says. He snaps his fingers, and you’re gone, back to your brand-new house with your new husband. “Don’t say I never tried to help anyone.”

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hoshigray · 7 months ago

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𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐞 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫! | t. fushiguro + k. nanami

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Taking your daughter to a sleepover with her best buds is easy peasy; ending up staying over at said sleepover to have some fun of your own with the two single dads you're crushing on? Not so much...

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: dilfs! Toji + Nanami x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; single parents au - implied you + Nanami are in early 30s; Toji is in late 30s - Tsumiki (age 10), Megumi, Yuuji and Nobara (8) - mutual pining/crushing - fluff then SMUT then fluff - kissing/making out - mutual masturbation (m! + f! receiving) - breast fondling + nipple play + sucking - Daddy kink - threesome - double penetration; anal and vaginal - spoon/sidesaddle dp + reverse cowgirl dp positions - clitoral play (swiping) - praise - breeding kink - cervix fucking - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy; don't be silly) - pet names (angel, baby, good girl, love, mama, sweetheart, sweetie) - Nobara is your daughter; Yuuji is Nanami's - mention of drool/spit and tears.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.8k (Christ almighty...)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: based on this ask from one of my anons; so happy to be writing an actual fic after a month, yippeee!! and tysm for 7.7k, my loveliesss!!

“Hahah, I win again!”

“No fair, I used the aerials like you taught me, what!?

“Yeah, but there’s no point using them if you’re just gonna let Itadori counter.”

“Shut up, Megumi! Hey, Yuuji, one more time!”

“Hey, keep it down, you three.” You warn the children who cause a ruckus in the living room from the dining table.

There’s nothing wrong with hanging with friends or going to someone’s house to play. Children are highly encouraged to do so to form deeper relationships! It’s what you’d want for your child, your sweet daughter poking out of her public shyness now that she’s playing video games with two of her best friends at a playdate.

Your daughter, Nobara, heard your warning and swerved her head back to apologize. “Sorry, momma! Itadori’s just cheating!”

“No, I’m not!” The pink-haired boy sitting next to your brunette daughter on the living room floor retorts. “She just sucks at playing!”

“Why you…” The two kids glare and argue to themselves while another sits on the living room couch and sighs at the interaction before him. Megumi was his name, the raven-haired boy putting his attention back on the animal encyclopedia he was reading.

You chuckle before speaking again, “Well, cheating or not, keep your voices down, okay? Tsumiki is trying to do her homework.”The kids nod and return to their fun on the television; the sounds of controller buttons mashing and clicking fill the absence of their voices, and you go back to what you were primarily doing. “Need any help there, Tsumiki?”

The fourth grader perks up from using her name, flashing a weary smile in your direction. “I’m trying to find these countries for my quiz on Monday, but where are Colombia and Guyana…?” The paper before the little girl exhibited a blank sheet with a map of the North and Southern American continents; a word bank is provided to the side with a list of countries.

Getting up from your chair, you walk to the vacant side where Tsumiki is and sit alongside her. “Hmm, let’s look at this together…”

This wasn’t your home; it belonged to the father of Yuuji Itadori. Staying during your daughter’s playdates was a rarity, particularly in another parent’s house. Yet today is a Friday, and you didn’t really have much to do other than clean the apartment and maybe catch up on a show or two. Besides, it didn’t hurt to watch the kids play and laugh now and then.

Luckily, you aren’t the only parent here; two other parents are taking out of their day to monitor the kids with you! The only problem is that…they make your stay a bit difficult.

Footsteps are heard descending the hall from the bedrooms, and your eyes peer to find a man walking into the kitchen area. “How’s studying going?” Golden blonde hair was the first you see, followed by the pleasant look of his chocolate brown eyes. A slim-fit grey long-sleeved shirt hugs his frame well, accompanied by dark-fitted jeans and dress socks. Kento Nanami, Yuuji’s adoptive father, has entered the scene and has made your heart skip to an irregular tune.

Thankfully, saving you from making a fool, Tsumiki answers the man. “Good, Auntie Y/n is helping me remember countries of South America!” She says with a blinding smile.

“Is that so?” Nanami opens a cupboard to pull out a glass to pour water. “You think you’ll be okay for the quiz?”

“Mmmm, if I remember five countries out of ten, I should be fine. I know more, thanks to Y/n!”

“Good,” your breath hitches when he walks to stand behind the chair you were sitting on. “And how are those three?”

You cough before averting your gaze to the living room. “They’re fine,” you watch your daughter exclaim in glory after finally beating Yuuji in the video game. The salmon-haired child groans in defeat, standing up to switch with Megumi so the other can play. “Nobara loves playing with the boys; they make her competitive spirit wild. It’s funny because she’s usually quiet and soft-spoken around me and others. However, that doesn’t explain her track record with terrorizing the boys of the school…”

Nanami chortles at your observation, the sound almost hypnotizing you. “Children bring out a different side in each other, helps them grow.”

“Wise words—“

Grrooorrr!

You both stop at the sound of a rumble, glancing at Tsumiki to see that it is her grumbling stomach. The child chews her quivering lip and hides her face by looking back at her homework. You giggle, “You hungry?” She nods slowly. “Me too, sweetie; the pizza should be here any minute.”

“That’s odd,” Nanami takes a sip from his glass. “He said the food would be done by the time he’s off work. It’s almost 7 o’clock, is there traffic on—“

KA-CHA! CLACK-CLINK!

“Yo, I’m here with the pizzas,” another voice, a lot lower and gruff than the blonde’s, enters the space. Your heart skips again, and you instinctively turn to find the source — you know who the source is.

Giant steps draw near the kitchen area, keys rustle as he stuffs them inside his jeans pocket, and the other hand holds three pizza boxes. After putting the food on the kitchen island, the man scratches his onyx head and stretches. His loose-fit cotton sweatshirt slips for a peak of his abs to be seen, and your eyes pull back before they hook onto the tanned skin for too long. Green eyes capture yours, and a smirk uproots the scar on the right of his lips. “Hey, Y/n,” the way he says your name pulls you in. “Good thing I caught ya before you could leave.”

You gulp to wet a dry throat. “It’s good to see you, too, Toji.”

Toji Fushiguro, the father of Tsumiki and Megumi, strides from the island down to where you three are, ruffling his daughter’s brown hair as a greeting. “How’s homework goin’?”

She swats her father’s hand away, fixing her ponytail. “It’s okay, I’m just hungry now.”

On that note, you decided it was time for everyone to take a break and eat. “All right, kids, the pizza’s here; come over and eat!” Nobara wastes no time springing out of the couch and sprints for the dining chair next to Tsumiki after you stand to grab the paper plates.

The boys don’t move, eyes glued to the screen and fingers moving across the controllers. Nanami tries to get their attention again, only for Yuuji to excuse themselves for a few minutes. The golden-haired father looks to the other before giving him a curt nod, a signal for Toji to walk to where the boys were sitting and turn off the television. They groan in unison before the black-haired man picks them up effortlessly and waltzs back to the dining table. “Time to eat, squirts.”

You have known Nanami for a long time, meeting him around when Nobara was still aged by months and could barely walk. Being a first-time parent is no easy task, especially since the man took Yuuji as his own after the death of the baby’s parents and grandfather when he was just a newborn. The transition from sober salaryman to committed fatherhood wasn’t an gradual one. But you know what they say: it takes a village, no matter how big or small. You found Nanami at the perfect time while you took care of Nobara, lending a helping hand to the single guardian whenever he needed advice or help looking after the pink-haired babe. He’d return the favor, of course, having you two spending and getting to know more about each other throughout the years. So, as the babies grew and became friends, so did you and him.

Toji entered your life around the same time as well; a single father of two was just as [if not more] challenging as your scenario. Not to mention – the poor man had to work ungodly hours, sometimes calling up a friend to look after his kids. You felt for him, even Nanami, so you’d help him out as well whenever he needed it, whether it be picking up Tsumiki and dropping her off at daycare or rocking three-month-old Megumi to sleep and waiting for the father to return home safely deep in the night.

Without the hood of parenthood, you three wouldn’t have become such good friends. Although there have been rough moments, at least you had the two to share and relate with if necessary. You’re so thankful for both fathers being in your life, serving as dependable outlets as you three grow along with your children. And it’s an even bigger blessing watching the kids have become great friends — practically inseparable! Words cannot express the gratitude for Nanami and Toji, treasuring the men so much that you’d love to maintain this mutual relationship with them as long as possible.

Being friends is more than enough; however, a tiny piece of yourself wishes something more to come out of this friendship. Admitting that to yourself is enough to have your ears heat up in shame. Crushing on the two fathers like some school girl, how embarrassing…

But can you blame yourself? As you all sit down and eat around the dinner table, you find it hard to restrict your eyes from wandering to either side of the table where the men sit.

Don’t get it twisted; you’ve always thought of the dads to be attractive men. However, the more time you’ve spent visiting and getting to know them, you’ve found that they’ve become more and more charming as the years go by. Now, it has gotten a lot worse.

Nanami is so entrancing to the eye — damn near looks as if he walked out of a movie set. His mocha eyes were so soft and perfect with his mellow tone. The charismatic blonde easily played with your heart with how attentive he was, making sure if you and Nobara ever needed anything or ever wanted someone to voice with. God, he was too good to be true, it was hard not to fall in love with him — you were honestly mesmerized the moment he first said your name. Now, solely seeing him is enough to make your ears hot and your heart race. Your admiration for him threatens to dwell into that of a childish crush — how mortifying!

And Toji — fuck, that man. Aside from having a body literally sculpted like an Olympic athlete, the dark-haired man was somebody who knew how to wind you down. Maybe it was the baritone voice that always captured your attention or the mischievous jokes and flirts he’d throw your way; whatever it was, Toji knew how to draw you in. Sure, you were a little intimidated by him at the start, but that’s long been substituted with feelings of trust and mutual respect from seeing how much of a good father he tries to be for his children. Although, the more you hear his gruff laugh, see his smile pull the scar, or forest green eyes drilling holes into your very being, the more you want to slap yourself for thinking about him day by day!

Goddamn it! As you sit at this table chewing on your pizza slice with the others, all you can think about is how pathetic you must be for falling for the two heartthrobs of your life. It’s appalling how these two fathers have yet to snatch up somebody, knowing there would be lines of people wanting a piece of them. And you sigh heavily, thinking if there’s ever a possibility you’d be lucky enough to be on the receiving end with either.

Probably not…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Annnnd BAM! UNO!”

“What?? You’re cheating!”

“Am not! You can put draw twos on plus fours!”

“Hah!? That’s not in the rules!”

“So? That’s how my mom plays.”

Why am I being brought into this… You shake your head as you observe the kids play their final card game before bed. All the children are dressed in their respective pajamas, sitting in a circle around couch pillows as they draw and place cards down. The sunset has long been set as the hour hand touches the eleventh number; the kids usually go to bed at eight or nine. But it’s the weekend and meant to be a sleepover, so one or two more hours of fun shouldn’t hurt anyone.

“UNO Out!!” Except for the heavy groans shared with Megumi and Yuuji as Nobara finishes the card game with an enthusiastic slam, turning around to give the older brunette a high five. “See, Tsumiki? I told you I can handle it!”

“Man, that’s not fair,” Yuuji throws his card pile to the floor in exasperation. “Wish I knew about that rule beforehand.”

Megumi does the same, “You should’ve made the rules clear before we played the game.”

“Wahh, keep complaining, loser,” Your daughter annoys the boy with a blown raspberry. “Fine, we can try again; if I win, I’ll have Yuuji's bed to myself and Tsumiki.”

“Not happening!” You and the salmon-haired child deny the winner’s request, and the girl only snickers mischievously while Tsumiki deals the cards.

Saved by the sound of footsteps approaching from the hall, Nanami is now here to dismiss the bunch. “All right, kids, time for bed.” Every one of them mourned at the statement; Yuuji quickly requested five more minutes, only to be shut down by his father. “Nope. I’m done with my shower, so you four must get to bed — that was the deal.”

“Aww man…” The four begrudgingly get up from the living room floor after putting the cards away and setting the pillows back on the couches. Before they leave, they wish you a good night. “Goodnight, Mom!” Nobara comes rushing to you for you to kiss her cheek.

“Goodnight, sweetpea,” you let go of her so she could run back. “And you three — where are my kisses?” Yuuji and Tsumiki happily come for you to place a goodnight kiss on their cheek. All that’s left is the silent child of the bunch who, unfortunately, doesn’t slip past your eyes. “That means you too, Megumi. Or else I’ll chase you down and kiss you up a storm like last time, you hear?”

The black-haired one fights a smile creeping his face, slowly taking steps to where you sat and fidgets as you kiss his cheek. You wish the boy goodnight, and he follows the others down the hall to the bedroom after doing the same.

“Fushiguro’s in the shower now.” Now that the children are gone, Nanami sits on the left side of the couch before dimming the ceiling lights. He turns on the television, “Seems like they’re having fun.”

“Mmm, they are,” you settle by the middle to be close to him. “I can’t believe they’re all so big now. Didn’t Yuuji just turn eight years old last month?”

“Mhmm, he’s now the same age as Nobara and Megumi,” he says with a smile. “For a little while, that is. He is the youngest, after all.”

“You’re right, poor thing.” You giggle with a stretch. “Nobara’s gonna be nine this August, and Megumi at the end of the year…”

“Hmm. We are old.”

That made you laugh hysterically as the delivery of the comment sounded so defeated yet true. It’s okay, though, since Nanami was laughing himself with a shaken head. “Don’t say it like that! They say you get sexier during your thirties.”

“Are you sure about that? My grandfather had photos from his thirties, and he was balding and getting chunkier before turning thirty-five.” More laughter seeps through your lips. “I don’t know, Y/n; not all of us can keep fit like Fushiguro; he still works out while halfway approaching forty.”

“Now, hold on, Nanamin,” you grin while pointing to Nanami, and you can see him try to fight a smile after using the nickname he supposedly doesn’t like. “You can’t say shit, either; you still look like a model coming straight out of a Men’s Vogue magazine!” That made him laugh more, the sound warming your heart. "You still got it, Kento; a real prince charming."

“Why thank you, Y/n,” he appreciates the compliment.

“Of course.”

The silence following that felt unsettling and had you fidgeting with the bottom of your halter top. Five uncomfortable minutes of nothing but the lowered volume of the television to fill the space. Come on, Y/n, keep the conversation going. “So, almost ten years, huh? A whole decade.” You watch Nanami nod along through your peripheral. “I remember the first time I met you; you looked like you barely got any sleep for the past month.”

“Because I didn’t. I was hassling with back-to-back meetings, on the cusp of finding another job to take outside of being a salaryman, and then had little newborn Yuuji to come home and put to sleep after feeding. Thank God you could babysit for him with Nobara; I’m forever grateful.”

“Oh God, I remember when you came home so tired while I was rocking both to sleep. I think that was the first and only time I’ve ever seen you fall asleep on the couch; so tired you forgot to greet me!”

“We don’t talk about that,” he scratches his ear. “That wasn’t so bad when we promised to watch over Megumi and Tsumiki during the weekend while Fushiguro went to take up so many jobs. He fell to his knees once he passed the threshold, and I had to walk him to his bed.”

You tittered at the recollection — all the memories mentioned made you feel warm and glad, all the years coming back to you with a happy memory. “We’ve done good, though. We managed, and the kids are growing to be good friends.”

“Before you know it, maybe Nobara will come to you about liking the boys—“

“That isn’t happening; I asked her the question like three weeks ago, and she said if she and the boys were the last people on Earth, she’d kill herself.” Nanami gasped and stifled a laugh, but you could see his shoulders bounce. “A third grader — an eight-year-old – telling me she’d off herself rather than be with one of the boys. Talk about radical...At least she loves to hang with them; she loves those boys like they’re her little brothers.”

The blonde hums to your words. “Them being close is a blessing. I guess that’s thanks to us, having each other’s backs all these years.”

It’s your turn to nod to him. “True, and I’m just glad they like being with each other.”

“Same here; Yuuji likes being with you guys,” he throws his head back. “…Just like I do.”

You blink. “What do you mean?” Suddenly, you feel as though you shouldn’t have asked that question because the way Nanami turns his head to look at you nearly paralyzes you. Oh my God…

“I like being with you.” He says it tenderly, only for your ears to pick up. “You make me feel at peace when you’re around, and I’m not as close to anyone as I am with you. A decade of you being in my life has made it more serene and…fun. So, I like it when you’re with me.”

You didn’t breathe a single puff of air during his speech. The worst part was that these were Nanami’s words — they were genuine. You could feel it in his bronze gaze, your heart unable to control itself.

And it doesn’t help that your eyes took in every detail of him; his hair, usually neat and styled, is now down and damp from the shower, strands of hair sticking to his forehead. His home wear comprised a loose sweatshirt and dark grey sweats, but you snuck a glance of his collarbone that peaks from the opening collar of his shirt. You move your gaze to the floor to stop yourself from looking any further, or else more fuel for indecent fantasies will be stored for later!

Fingers fiddle with each other as you chew on your lip. God, Y/n, just fucking say it! “I, uhh…I like being with you, too, Nanami.”

“Do you really have to go?” He scoots in. “You know I don’t mind you staying over.”

“I—ahem—I think, yeah…I wouldn’t want to intrude on you and Toji; I’m sure you two would wanna catch up on stuff. I’ll just come back and pick Nobara up in the morning before—”

You stop uttering more once you feel a sudden hand on your right shoulder. Turning to your left, you didn’t even realize Nanami scooting to be so close to you, his face a hand’s length away from yours. Once again, you have forgotten how to breathe. And when he places his left hand on your right that lies on your lap? You don’t move a centimeter.

“I want you to stay,” his tone low and sincere. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I like you being around me. I…” He brings your hand to his lips, and a soft kiss makes you gasp faintly. “I love it, actually.”

You gulped. There’s no way this is happening right now. There’s just no way! “Kento—“

“I mean it.” He kisses your knuckles again, his eyes locked in with yours. He chuckles, “You were right.”

“About…what?”

“As you grew older, you have changed quite a lot. You’re…Well, no, you’ve always been pretty. But, all these years, you’ve become a lot more beautiful,” he draws his face in closer. “Breathtaking,” you instinctively close your eyes when his nose brushes yours. “Sexier.”

Nanami’s lips land on yours on the final word, and you don’t move a muscle when he does so. They felt soft against yours, perfect for the mellow kiss. It doesn’t last long, only a few seconds. Yet you quivered as he withdrew, placing his forehead against yours as his hand weaved with your fingers.

“Ken…” Fuck, this is too much. The hand on your shoulder exhibits no interest in getting off. “I can’t, I have to—“ he shushes you with another kiss.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” What the fuck!? Did he just use a pet name on you? “You know I can take care of you, right? Even for one night,” you tremble when he licks your bottom lip. “Stay for tonight, okay?”

“Kento..” He pauses when you hesitantly remove your right hand from his grasp, thinking you’d push him off. But then you bring both hands to cup his sunken cheeks, caressing him with your thumbs. “…More.”

He doesn’t wait a second, accepting your request and bringing his back on yours. Small pecks to the lips gradually become more arousing and tilted heads to achieve a better angle for entry. You moan to his mouth, and so does he. Tongues slowly become adventurous, twirling with each other and exploring the other’s mouth. It feels so good; you lean into Nanami’s hold with every kiss. And he happily accepts you as he gives you more.

Jesus Christ, something straight out of a dream. And if it was, you only hope to indulge in it for a little longer. More, more—

“What do we have here?”

However, you can’t indulge if another person comes into the frey unsuspectedly.

Two bodies retreat from each other, sitting awkwardly on the couch appropriately as Toji walks into the living room. Your lips shook with anxiousness, stealing a glimpse of Toji’s smirk as he walked to your right. You sneak a glance at Nanami, seeing the shade of pink rise on his skin lightly, and you cover your face to shield yourself. Fucking fuck, this is embarrassing!

“Don’t act all shy on me now, you two.” Toji’s weight dents the right side of the couch, extending his arm to be behind you. “Don’t be scared, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Did you check the kids?” Nanami fakes a cough.

“Out like a light,” he answers, creeping his hand from behind onto your shoulder. You shudder at his calloused touch and gruff laugh. “What’s goin’ on, Y/n?” You meekly turned to look at him. Same with Nanami, Toji’s dark hair was damp from the shower, substituting his day outfit with a blank tank top and grey sweatpants. It took everything in your power not to peek at his pecs or exposed biceps.

You avert your eyes from his. “Nothing…” You saw his chest jerk from a scoff.

“Wow, you two are really gonna act like some kids, huh.” His snark remark has you both flattening your lips in shame. “Act all quiet when somethin’ happened.”

He prompted you to question. “How much…did you see?”

“I saw the kiss — you looked like you were enjoyin’ it.” He purposely said that to make your cheeks hot, the brazen bastard. “But I heard Kent here say he means it when he likes havin’ ya ‘round.”

Nanami speaks up while scratching his brow. “Y/n was, uhh, just about to leave.”

Toji lifts a brow. “Leave? When the night is still young?” He subtly shakes you. “Why so soon, hmm? It’s the weekend; I just got outta the shower an’ hoped you’d be here a lil' while.” He spoke to you slowly. It was a dangerous approach with that husky voice. He squeezes your shoulder when you’re not answering.

“I just….You and Nanami probably have some ‘guy stuff’ you wanna catch up on, and I don’t want to come in between that, you know?” It’s here you muster the courage to look at the raven-haired man. Big mistake; now he has your attention where he wants it.

“So considerate, huh,” his free hand comes to your cheek, and you’re frozen as he plays with the flesh of it. “I think you should stay, Y/n. What kind of friends would we be if we let you drive out late."

It’s hard to remind your body to breathe when Toji is surveying you intimately. What the fuck—why is this happening all of a sudden!?? “You–Toji, it’s okay, I’ll—“

“Besides,” he teases you by rubbing your earlobe with his thumb and forefinger. “I like you bein’ here, too.” You’re too distracted from him bringing his face to your neck to kiss, evoking an unstable gasp. “Lookin’ all pretty fr’ me…”

“Toji…—Ahh!” You didn’t notice him slide his hands down to the chest area of your halter top, his large palms groping your breasts affectionately. His kneads are rough yet pleasing, having you whimpering for him. “Don’t touch so…Hahhh…”

“Bad girl,” he chuckles to your ear after placing a kiss on your cheek. “Over here lettin' Kent touch you and think you can leave without me havin’ you for a bit, especially when you were eyein' us up earlier today...” He kisses your lips to take in your silent squeaks from fondling your chest, and you mewl for him. “Daddy wants you, too, baby…Heh, so does Kent.”

You peer to your left to see the mentioned man, and you’re taken aback to see him close to your side again. Holy shit. You literally questioned about this earlier, wondering if you’d ever be on the receiving side of these two. You did NOT expect this answer to come out of the blue within a few hours! And now that it’s here, how could you leave now?! This is what you wanted. And – to your surprise – so did they.

You swallow spit and lift your left leg to the couch. And Nanami notices the initiative, coming between your legs to kiss your lips again. Your back pressed against Toji’s chest, you’re caged between the two men who seek to pleasure you in this proximity. You moan to Nanami sucking on your tongue, coinciding with the satisfying kneads of your breasts.

Suddenly, Nanami breaks the kiss with a groan, and Toji chortles close to your ear. Curious, your eyes venture down to find that Toji’s hand grasps the tent of the blonde’s sweatpants. “Enjoyin’ y’rself, huh, Kent?” Toji strokes his hand on the boner, evident through the clothes.

“Toji, st—Hnnn…!” You watch this, eyeing Nanami’s composure slip away as his cock is being touched. The older man willingly massages his friend’s dick, and you observe how he effortlessly makes the sand-headed man hornier with his hand alone. It makes you feel hot, sensing a throbbing sensation in between your thighs. So, you silently bring a hand to sneak inside the hem of your wide-leg jeans.

But you don’t go unnoticed because Toji kisses your cheek. “Like what ya see, sweetie?” He rests his chin on your shoulder. “Want me to take care of you? Here,” he then takes your hand to swap with his, your fingers feeling the rough skin of Nanami’s cock as you hold it. “Make him feel good, ‘kay?”

You couldn’t believe it — Nanami’s hot, living cock was in your grasp. And as you have begun to stroke him, the noises he made turned you on even more. His veins are felt in your very palm, and precum exuding from his urethra lubricates the pretty fingers around his length. You can’t help but imagine how it would feel to have him ease the aching pulses between your legs, how good it would feel to have his girth massage your insides.

But your crude thoughts are interrupted by Toji’s left hand skillfully unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans, slithering inside your panties, and meeting your wet cunt with his fingers. You jolt, but he’s right there to coo, “Relax, mama,” his free hand squeezes your chin to turn and face him. “Daddy’s gotcha…So fuckin’ beautiful,” Toji slams his lips into you for a steamier kiss, and you lose yourself.

Your hand on Nanami goes faster, eliciting extra precum to escape and stain the material of his sweats. Nanami leans forward to lick and suck the skin of your neck, forcing you to break the kiss with Toji to wail inaudibly while his fingers brush up on your soaked folds with unforgiving speed. Not to mention his bulge grinding against your back…

“Ahhnn, wait, guyss, we can’t—Mmmm…!” Toji kisses you again, grinning at your expression as he sucks and nibbles on your tongue. “We can’t do this…Not here…”

“Why?“ Nanami blows on your ear. “What’s wrong, love?”

CREEAAKK!!

That’s what’s wrong!

Like a flipped switch, all three adults unscrew themselves away from each other and sit back into their original positions. Nanami immediately pulls his pants back up, using a couch pillow to hide the situation that shouldn’t be present as he’s sitting in the living room. Toji follows suit, leaning on the couch arm.

Sounds of tiny footsteps draw near, and they belong to none other than your daughter, who sleepily rubs her eyes coming into the space. You are the first thing she sees, “Momma? You’re still here?”

“Mhmm,” you hoped you didn’t sound too off. “I’m just watching a movie with Uncle Toji and Kento. What are you doing up?”

“I thought I heard your voice,” Nobara walks to you and puts her head on your shoulder, and you voluntarily pick her up to have her sit on your lap. You smile; even though she’s growing day by day, she’s still your baby at heart. “Didn’t you say you’d leave after I go to bed?”

“Yeah, I was supposed to,” the two men sitting on either side of the couch say nothing. “And I can’t go now, seeing you’re still up.”

Nobara nuzzles into your neck. “Does that mean you’ll spend the night, too?”

“Mmm, I wish I could, sweetpea,” you kiss her forehead. “But I didn’t bring any change of clothes or pajamas. I don’t even have my toothbrush – I’d be walking around with stinky breath.” You hear the girl giggle at your words.

What you just said gave the two fathers an idea, the men giving each other a look before saying anything. “I have some unused travel-size toothbrushes and toothpaste I’ve kept from business trips.” Nanami inquires; you put your foot in your mouth on that one.

Toji adds, “You can use the sweatshirt I wore today as PJs. I don’t mind.”

Of course, you don’t. Shaking your head, you knew what the two were insinuating. The adult language is too nuanced for your daughter to pick up on. It’s not like you’ve never slept over Nanami’s place before; you’ve done it dozens of times — even Toji’s! However, this time was different; you three have crossed a line you didn’t think was possible. What happened minutes ago was a mere taste of what could happen if you three decided to change this relationship into something more intimate. And now, after revealing the curiosity, the men were all in to see it through.

…And yet, you can’t say you don’t feel the same either. Are you kidding? You have goosebumps just thinking back on how close you three were, how their hands and lips felt on your skin, and their attention placed on nothing – on no one else – but you. It made your heart beat uncontrollably, knowing that your decade-long crush on them was being favored in more ways than one — like a dream come true!

“Mom?” Snapping back to reality, you peer to Nobara, who awaits your answer. With a smile, you boop her nose with a finger.

“Only if you go back to sleep, sweetpea.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The hour hand had finally met the twelfth number, the midnight hour designating the quiet neighborhood into a calm slumber. Light posts automatically turn on to display the sidewalk, yet the darkness of the night serves as a blanket to cover the silent homes.

Nanami’s home was simple — a one-floor house perfect for the blonde man and his son. Aside from the living room and kitchen, it had a hall that harbored the bedrooms, Yuuji’s guest bathroom, and closet. The children were all resting in Yuuji’s room, the first door to the left you’d meet when entering the hallway. Other than the master bedroom, there was no other room besides the living room couch for you to sleep in.

Being by yourself is something Nanami wouldn’t want, and Toji would’ve primarily taken the couch since you had no plans of staying. But since that’s been changed, the two men took this opportunity to enjoy their sleepover with your company, using the master bedroom at the end of the hall to further themselves from the ears of the snoring kids. Tonight, you’d finally have your answer by being spoiled by your crushes all night.

“Dahhh, Toji, yer tongue…fingers…Ohhh!”

“Fuck, Y/n, you look so gorgeous…Here, kiss me, angel.”

“Mmmm, fuckin’ shit, y’ taste so good…Waited so long fr' this..."

You were practically stuck with them the moment they locked the door. After borrowing Nanami’s shower, your nude body was met with hungry hands and hot kisses, drowning your senses with their overwhelming presence. Three naked bodies lie on the bed, you with your back to the sheets and legs spread. To your right was Nanami, making out with you lovingly while a hand cups and massages a breast. Toji had his face nestled between your thighs, his tongue licking around your labia and fucking your vagina, inspiring you to cry for the blonde next to you. The older man also pleases you by fingering your asshole with lube, conditioning it for future use.

You melt into Nanami’s kiss, and soft tweaks on your nipple make you mewl into his lips more. But you withdraw to scream, “Ahhaaa! Kentoo, touch me more…”

“Hmm? What, baby?” He presses his lips to your cheek, kissing your chin to the outlet between your neck and shoulders. “You like it when I play with your chest?” A low snicker humors him from watching you nod, and he brings his mouth to your nipple to suck on.

You grip the sheets, “Ohhh, hooo…! Tojiii, y’re gonna make me c—Uuuhh!”

He separates his mouth from your soapy folds, and your liquids stick to his chin. What an obscene sight with the grin he has on his face. “Yeah? Ya wanna cum on my mouth, mama?” Unlike Nanami, Toji doesn’t take a nod; he’s a bit of an asshat, so he licks your clitoris to tease. “Use them words, baby; wanna hear you say it fr’ me.”

“Y–Yesss, yes, I do,” a hushed howl after Toji sucks on your pearl and the other rubbing on your nipple to the roof of his mouth. “Pleaseee, I wanna cum…!”

“Heh, well, don’t go cummin’ on me just yet,” he kisses your slit before straightening up and pats your inner thigh. “All ready fr’ ya, Kent.”

Nanami then releases your nipple with a ‘pop’ and maneuvers to lay on his side. “Come here,” he asks, resting your head on his arm and lifting your leg. You hum at the contact of his glans meeting your cunt, “So wet for me, huh?” He pushes his cock to the entrance, and you gasp at the tip inserted into your vagina. “Relax, angel,” he coos to you with a kiss on your nose, gauging your reaction as he slowly snugs your vagina with every inch of his cock.

Your mouth goes agape at the stretch of you taking him in; the feeling of his cock feels too good and surreal. And the brush of his dick on your sweet spots has you squeak, same with him poking on your cervix. He throws in a few thrusts to start, but you didn’t expect that. No, fuck! He rubs on your walls at a precise angle, prompting your orgasm to come a bit too quickly to comprehend. So, you have to bite your lip to keep your scream hushed, letting the flutter of your cunt speak for you.

And Nanami notices it, hissing at the contraction. “—Hnnm! Shit…Did you cum, sweetheart?”

“Oh, did they?” And here comes Toji, straddling both the bodies below him. He leans into your face, licking your ear. “Felt that good, huh, baby? We haven’t even started.” He kisses your forehead before uncurling back up and aligning his dick to your lubed anus. Then, he pushes the tip to be swallowed by your puckered hole, and you mumble small prayers as his fat length is pushed inside. “Shit, this tight ass…”

The older man begins to move into you, his shaft churning the inside of your ass. Nanami does the same, his cock scraping your insides synched with Toji’s rhythm. The movement has you immediately making noise beyond your control, wails bouncing around the space between you and the men.

It isn’t long before the two find a groove; Toji pistons his cock with every pull of Nanami’s, and sounds of skin slapping lasciviously against each other are picked up by your ears. How could you not tighten more around the limbs inside you, especially when they scrape on against your tender wails so accurately? Especially after coming, your nerves have not yet recovered from the wave earlier.

“Ohh! Hoooh fuuuck,” your back arches a bit, helping the sand-haired man to find a better angle to scratch the upper wall of your vagina. Your vision is screwed shut, making it easier to indulge in the sensation of their cocks ravaging your insides.

Toji sees you from up top, his eyes traveling down to your ass and whistling at the sight of you taking his and the other’s dick. “Damn, ya feel so good, Y/n. Ass so tight, act like ya don’t wanna let go.”

God, why’d he have to say it like that? Your face was hot enough; did he want to make you melt on this bed? And Nanami doesn’t make it any better. “Heheh, they twitched,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, felt it, too…What’s goin’ on, sweetie?” Toji pulls his cock until his cockhead is on the verge of coming out, and he slams it back down to have you moan aloud. “Ya like bein’ fucked like this? Takin’ Daddy’s cock like a good girl…?”

“They’re gripping me again.”

“Ken, stoop!!” The fair-headed man laughs at your protest, your resilience still present even if it’s wiped away in seconds when Toji quickens his pace. “Nnhhh…! N-Not too fast, I’m sensit’veee—Ahhh!”

“You say that, but your body says otherwise, love,” Kento brings a hand to your hip to massage. “—Nnnn! Jesus…wanna cum so bad…”

Oh, fuck, imagine: being filled to the brim by Nanami’s come? Being stuffed by both of them? It turned you on so bad. “—OhhhGod, please, cum inside me!”

Gold eyebrows furrow. “I can’t, baby; don’t got a condom on—“

“It’s okay, I want it…!” The thought of getting pregnant again should be the very last thing that should pop into your mind right now. And yet, being knocked up by these two has you craving Nanami’s release even more. “Pleaseeplease, I want you to fill me up…! Don’t hold back for me, Ken.” You can tell he’s still on the fence about it. But with a kiss on his nose and a soft hand on his cheek, you convince him otherwise.

“Wanna be the mother of my child so bad, huh?” He says with a chortle, “So beautiful…” Before he snaps his hips into you, Nanami brings you in for one more kiss and wraps his hand on your shoulder to keep you close. He ruts into you with purpose, making sure he’s balls-deep with every push and reaching the deepest he can. You howl at the brush of your cervix again, allowing him to use you to chase his climax.

“Oh? You got him going, now,” Toji comments from above with a smirk, still maintaining the pace with Nanami despite the younger male going erratic. Your screams go higher and higher, so you bring in a hand to cover up the noise. This was not the time to test how thick the bedroom walls were, despite the kids sleeping a closet and office away.

Nanami groans into your lips; his length relentlessly rubs your silky texture. And when his orgasm does reach him, he grinds his pelvis, stirring his length so deep that you can’t help but writhe with him. You can feel his penis pulsate with every pump of his load inside you, satisfying your excitement as your hand massages his skull. He keeps you like this until his body has calmed down, sluggishly removing his pillowy lips from yours with a sigh.

Chocolate brown orbs are fixated on yours, the hand on your hip coming up to wipe spit from your face. “God, you drive me crazy. Making me cum inside, one child’s not enough?”

You titter, “Well, wouldn’t hurt to have another, you think?…Mmmm,” you almost forget about Toji. The raven-haired man removes himself from your ass, his shaft still standing.

“Don’t forget ‘bout me, now,” he reminds you two of his presence, getting his frame off you both so you can move around.

You stand with your knees between Nanami’s legs while he sits upright. “Come here,” he places his hands on your hips and leads you back onto his cock. This time, he’s the one entering your asshole, and you both moan at the union of your sexes. Once your ass meets the base of his pelvis, his arms wrap around your waist and carefully bring you down with him. Your back to his chest, his lips to your ear. “So tight and warm…Hmmm.”

This position is new to you – in fact, this was all new! You can’t remember the last time you had your body this close and intimate with another figure. It’s been so long – damn near bizarre - especially when your heat is transferring with the gold-haired man behind you. The aroused hums to your ears have you throb involuntarily; you could melt into his arms right about now.

That thought goes out the window when Toji’s weight has you looking in front of you, and your brain nearly shuts down at the sight of the older man coming in between your legs to lift them, his emerald eyes locked on yours. Jesus, fuck! You had to turn away – it was all too much!

“Ah ahh, don’t go turnin’ ‘way from me,” he gives your legs for Nanami to hold from the back of your knees, and then he cups your cheeks and moves your face back to him. “Waited almost ten years to have you like this, so I wanna see all of you, mama.” Just when your face couldn’t get any more unreasonably hot, this handsome bastard just had to say that while fondling your chest! And it doesn’t help the other charming face is placing kisses on your neck.

Toji uses this position to spread your folds; he can’t suppress the ardent smirk lifting his scar. “Kent did his thing on you, and ya still want more, huh?” You press your lips together when he slaps his glans on your leaky chasm. “Watch...” Your eyes follow down to the tip of his dick, vulgarly using the come seeping out of you as lube. You gasp sharply at the insertion, “Breathe fr’ me, baby,” he coaxes you through every inch of him, burrowing inside your inner channel that you almost forget to blink from the display. The girth of him has you wail beneath him, and you cry at the poke of your cervix again! Christ, you don’t know how long you can do this.

“—Hnngh…! Fuck, good girl,” the dark-haired one praises, grinding his pelvis down to churn more friction inside you. “So good fr’ Daddy...”

Slow ruts to your chasm begin the second round, three bodies rocking within a mutual cadence. You throw your head back with shut eyelids concentrating on the two dicks that push to and fro from your holes and scrape your walls. And a choked scream leaves your frame at the jab of your cervix again.

“Ohhhshiit,” eyebrows furrow with a chewed lip, and the two men begin to quicken the pace. “HooohGod! F’eel so good…Ahahhn!”

Toji puts his hands on the headboard as leverage, using his hips and the flex of his abdomen to take control. Fuck, seeing his nude physique so up close was too marvelous; it couldn’t be true — it shouldn’t be!

And Nanami is no better while whispering to your ear. “Feeling good, Y/n?” He teases your lobe with a lick, “Gripping on us like crazy as if you’ve been waiting for this, hmm?” You try to protest, but all that comes out are sobs when he jerks his hips unexpectedly. He chuckles, “So cute…Hmm? Heh, you are feeling good, huh, love.”

Can you believe it? Being fucked by these two attractive men, and you’re fingering your clit in the midst of it all? Embarrassment rings your ears as your fingers swipe and grind around the neglected pearl. Toji and Nanami share a look for a split second, and then Nanami switches his hands with the other. Instead, an arm snakes around your waist to keep you on him, and the other silently moves yours aside to play with your clit.

That only has you crying even harder. Pinches to your clit and kisses to your leg accompany the increased speed of their thrusts. Tears well up at every jolt of your body from the frequent jabs to your vaginal walls, scraping your G-spot so precisely. And the length in your butt keeps feeling so fucking good! Grazing your velvet texture that you can’t think straight.

“—Gaahhh! Mmmph!” Your hand finds Nanami’s wrist to hold on to as his middle and ring fingers swipe on your clitoris. You scream his name when he pitches it softly, “Kent—Ohhh! Shhtop, ish too much!!”

“Yeah, too much?” He toys with it gently. “But I don’t hear you telling me to stop…”

The two of them go at a sporadic pace, skin slapping onto yours harshly in sync. They nearly take your breath away, thanking God they have a hold on you before the momentum steers you away. “Hahah, ohhh, ohmyGod, guys,” Toji bends down to add more of his weight, making you howl from the angle of his fat cock. “I cannn’t; again, I’m about to cuuhmm agaiinn!!!”

“Really? You wanna cum, baby? Mmph! Fuck, this pussy…” He groans. “Gonna be a good girl and let Daddy finish here, yeah?” You nod, and Nanami pinches your clit again on Toji’s behalf. “Words, sweetie, words.”

“Yesss, Daddyyy!”

“Gonna lay there and look cute while I knock ya up, right?” Again, the thought of having another baby should not have you excited. But again, there’s no way your head could be right during all of this. “Hmm? Want Daddy to give ya a baby?”

“Mmmm! Please, Daddyyy, fill me up…!” You were spouting out nonsense, but who cares? “Make me a mama again…Ohhh!”

And he does just that, pounding his shaft at you so harshly that it rocks your entire body, especially with how he brings your legs up to your chest to have your slit fully exposed for him. “Holy shit,” he bites his lip as he eyes your nude frame before him. “Look so fuckin’ sexy like this, Y/n.”

You couldn’t thank him for the compliment, your lips busy with Nanami’s as he takes you in for a steamy kiss. Both men drill their members into you in erratic unison, leaving you a squealing mess for the fair-headed one to deal with. His hands continue to tweak and grind on your clitoris, and your orgasm hits you before you can prepare yourself with a tear trickling down.

And the flutter of your walls around their cocks eggs them onto waves of their own, groaning along with your cries as they piston you with the final ruts of their hips. Their pulsating lengths exert their loads inside your holes simultaneously, filling you up with their essence as their sweaty bodies heave and shudder. Nanami releases your clit from his grasp, the same with your lips.

He hums pleasantly, his brown orbs hooded yet comforting. “Told you I love having you around me.”

“Bet y’re glad you stayed over,” Toji’s hand finds its way to your chin after putting your legs down. He scoffs when you bashfully nod, bringing you in for a kiss. “Did so well, mama…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Mornings are typically a thing you share with your daughter in the comfort of your home. From the moment she came into your world to having her own room and bed, Nobara would always be the first thing you’d see when waking up. Coming into your room to greet you, pulling you out for something, or get dressed and ready for the day with you – it was a routine the two of you shared, a sacred thing to enjoy between parent and daughter. So, to wake up in a room different from yours or see a different face has been a rarity ever since she became your top priority.

This morning, though, was one of those rarities.

“Good morning, Y/n.”

Your eyes flickered open from birds chirping and the sun peaking from the bedroom curtains. Drowsy eyes scan around to see that you are not in your room, already being alerted that something had happened last night of the change of scenery. And when you look to see who lies beside you, it all hits you like a slap.

It was like a scene from a romance movie, waking up to Nanami’s stunning face that was highlighted by the sunlight. Fair blonde hair that matched the softness of his russet eyes and a kind smile to match. And your breath hitches when he brings a hand to caress your cheek.

“Mornin’, Y/n.”

And, of course, he wasn’t the only one who’d be greeting you. You sheepishly turn around to see the other man looking at you, viridian orbs ready to meet your pretty face. The smile on his face pulls the scar on his lips, the man effortlessly shooting an arrow into your heart.

Everything that occurred the night before flashes, and the heat returns to dance on your cheeks and ears. Waking up in a different bed with two handsome men is one thing. To wake up to your crushes greeting you good morning, all three of you nude and comfortable after a night of mutual passion? Oh, you had to be dreaming still.

And yet, you couldn’t look at either of them in the eyes, averting your gaze modestly. “…Good morning,” you say quietly, almost squeaking your heart out when they both move to be closer. They kiss you, embrace you, and give you attention as if your decade-long crush has finally been lifted for them to spoil you. It’s kind of suffocating in a way. But, God, it felt so good.

Eventually, you got up and threw on some clothes to make food for everyone, Nanami joining you after putting his sleepwear back on. Toji had to leave for a moment to grab stuff from the store, his daughter waking up to the sound of him slamming the front door close. Then came Megumi, then Yuuji, who greeted Nanami with a hug, and now Nobara. The children sit around the table and mingle while you and the blonde fix some blueberry waffles, eggs, and bacon.

“Isn’t that my dad’s shirt?” Megumi was the first to notice it, pointing to the sweatshirt that went with your loose jeans — the same sweatshirt that Toji wore yesterday.

You flatten your lips before coming up with an answer. “Yes…I had nothing to wear for sleeping over, so he gave me his shirt. He didn’t mind; he brought an extra one.”

“You stayed over, Auntie?” Yuuji inquired after taking a sip of his apple juice. “Where did you sleep?”

“On the couch.”

Brown brows scrunch together before Nobara asks, “But wasn’t Uncle Toji the one who’d sleep on the couch?”

You open your mouth, but words fail to exit out. Sharing a glance with Nanami, who coughs while putting waffles on plates, he covers for you. “He slept in my bed with me.”

“You slept with my father?” Tsumiki interrogates, trying to stifle a laugh. “He snores a lot, so I’m sorry if you couldn’t sleep, Uncle Nanami.”

As if on cue, the front door opens and closes with the arrival of her father, walking to kiss Tsumiki’s cheek and ruffle Megumi’s hair before entering the kitchen. He pulls something out of the plastic grocery bag and hands it to you. Putting the mixing bowl down, you take what seems to be a box, and your eyes widen to Toji’s amusement. “I’d take those before leaving if I were you.”

“Jesus Christ,” you put the box of birth control to the side with a flustered face. “Thank you…” And before you can process it, Toji sneaks a kiss on your cheek with you distracted. The older man cackles to himself when you slap his arm and push him off. Thankfully, none of the kids notice.

“Uncle Toji,” Nobara grabs the man’s attention. “Is it true you slept with Uncle Nanami?”

The question takes him aback, but Toji’s quick on his feet to reply. “Yeah, I did. Your dad looks like a dead man when asleep, Yuyu.”

The pink-haired child nods along to the nickname. “Mhmm! Even when he comes home from work, he looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks, like some kind of vampire.” You snuck a glimpse at the sand-haired man, who rolled his eyes before bringing plates to put on the table.

“Anyways,” he diverts the conversation to a different subject, placing a plate full of food in front of the boys. “Be ready for the zoo after breakfast, Yuuji. Didn’t you say you wanted to see the new tiger cubs?”

The Fushiguro siblings brighten with interest at the mention of the zoo, turning to their father, who instantly shuts them down with crossed arms. “Don’t even think about it. I’m already takin’ you two to the aquarium tomorrow; you want me to pay for more tickets for some animals?”

The joy in their eyes diminishes in seconds. “Cheapskate,” Megumi mumbled under his breath, earning a blueberry to be thrown at him by Toji. But the siblings smile when Nanami says that they can come along.

“Momma,” you dreaded hearing your daughter’s voice during this conversation, hesitantly peering at the dark-haired girl after being given her breakfast. “Can I go, too?”

Oh, goddamn it. “I’m sorry, baby, but I can’t keep going back and forth from the house and wherever. Besides, you have karate today.”

“I can skip!” Your mouth drops at her enthusiasm. “Besides, we can just sleep over again!”

This girl! “Nobara, you can’t just go making those decisions like this is your home. Did you ask Yuuji’s father if it was okay to stay another night?” You probably shouldn’t have said that, as the girl immediately asks the blonde father the exact question. And to your shock, he says they’re free to stay another night. You’re not helping! “You don’t even have an extra pair of clothes!”

And to make it worse, the onyx-haired man beside you says this, which makes you facepalm with a groan. “I can drive you two home and back. Saves ya some gas.” You’re not helping either, and you’re just losing gas for my sake!

Mornings were supposed to be an easy thing to deal with. And yet here you are, dealing with a predicament. Shit like this is precisely why you don’t stay for too long during Nobara’s playdates and sleepovers; now you’re backed into a position where saying no seems futile. Nothing wrong with the children wanting to hang out more, but fuck does it throw the routine off. However, it wasn’t all bad. Because the whole point of this was for the little girl to have fun with her friends, who are you to be a Debby downer on her parade?

Plus…you’d get to hang out with Toji and Nanami for another day; that alone has your stomach running laps right now. Not only did you have your feelings reciprocated by the two men within a single night and then some, but you’re now invited to stay another day and enjoy the weekend in their company. You can sense their gazes on you, awaiting your answer – your approval to spoil and please you for one more night. And what makes your heart skip into flips is that there would probably be more days and nights to deepen this relationship between you three…

So, with a heavy sigh, you slide your hand down your face.

“…Can we at least go get some spare clothes first?”

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