#he had to leave home to know the importance of it

[allllium]

Just an Accident

~ Jason todd x reader who was accidentally hurt

~ Fluff, Jason being dramatic, WC:

~ Inspired by @mostly-imagines

[Thank you guys for being so patient while I finished this and thank you for all likes 💓💓 I really wasn't expecting anything till this was finished. Hope this meets your expectations <3]

Jason tried really hard to keep his secret secret from you but let's be honest, he's very obvious about it. Especially once you meet his family.

After he finally came clean to you about everything, he became even more protective. More protective than you ever thought possible.

He would freak out anytime he didn't know where you were or if you got hurt in any way.

"I'm so so sorry." Bruce says, following you through the mansion repeating his apology.

"It's okay, Bruce, it was an accident." You reply, "I should've known."

Honestly there was no way you could've known that Bruce was creating some elaborate booby trap on the kitchen counter that would fail and smack you in the face when you walked into the kitchen.

It didn't hurt too bad, luckily Bruce was testing things with plastic and not the real materials.

From the look of it though, you'll definitely have a mark on your nose and possibly a bruise under your eye.

"I had no idea it was gonna do that." He continues defending, knowing how Jason will react.

"It's fine, I swear. I know you wouldn't do that on purpose." You walk into the living room and sit down on the couch. Bruce sits next to you.

"Can I get you anything?" He asks. Obviously freaking out.

"No, it's alright. It really doesn't hurt."

"Oh shit." You hear Dick gasp. Coming in through the front door with Tim.

"Oh, what did you do!?" Tim asks, "Jason is gonna kill you."

"It was an accident, everything is fine." You try to calm everyone down.

Seeing that you're okay, Dick can't hold back his laugh.

"Wow, Jason is never gonna trust you again Bruce." Tim hits Dick on the arm and rolls his eyes. To the side of you, Bruce leans forward to hold his head in his hands.

"I think you guys are being a little dramatic. Jason isn't gonna kill him."

"No you seriously underestimate how Jason will react to this." Tim tells you.

"Yeah, remember he almost killed me for making jokes about you when you first got together."

"What?" You turn to Dick in confusion, "I don't remember that."

"Not important," he waves it off, "The point is, we need a plan."

"A plan for what?"

"A plan to hide this from Jason" He tells you, in a tone that screams obvious.

"How would I do that, Dick? I live with him."

"I don't know yet, that's why we need a plan!" He exclaims, pacing in front of the couch.

You roll your eyes, "You're being dramatic."

"No he's not." Bruce says. You fall back into the couch and cross your arms over chest.

"Bruce please. I need at least one of other person here to be an adult."

You can hear Tim laughing as he sits in the chair next to the couch.

"Well, he's right. Jason's gonna be pissed." Bruce shakes his head at you. He stands from the couch and starts pacing with Dick.

"They're gonna make me lose my mind." You mumble under your breath. You run your hands over your face, this childish behavior you're watching isn't what you were expecting from Batman and Nightwing.

Okay to be honest you were definitely expecting this from Dick.

Tim leans over to whisper to you, "You should make a break for it, they're too busy plotting to notice you leave."

"Let me guess," you whisper back, "you've had to make a break for it a couple times?"

"More than you know." He shakes him head and has a serious look on his face.

"Well, have fun with that." You laugh and walk out the front door. Tim was right, both the guys were so busy trying to figure out how to hide you from Jason, they totally forgot to hide you.

You rush home to meet Jason. You were supposed to meet for dinner but obviously you got a little distracted.

"Hey baby." You sigh when you walk through the door. Jason is in the kitchen cooking dinner. Whatever he chose to make, made the whole room smell amazing.

"Hey. What took you so long?"

"I stopped by the mansion to borrow that thing from Alfred but he wasn't there." You tell him, referencing some cooking tool you wanted to make desert for after dinner.

"Where did he go?" You want into the kitchen to see him while you talk.

"I have no idea. I got distracted by something Bruce was doing." You walk over and take a piece of food that he's cutting.

Without looking, he softly smacks your hand away.

"Rude." You laugh.

"This is my sacred space." He puts the knife down and gestures over the whole counter.

"You're ridiculous." You laugh again and kiss him on the cheek.

"How dare you." He puts his hand on his chest in fake offense. Only then does he turn to actually look at you. "What happened?" He immediately asks.

"Oh it's fine, just got smacked with some plastic " Which is apparently not the answer he wanted.

"What the fuck does that mean?" He grabs your face gently and examines the marks on your face.

"It means I got hit with some plastic. But it doesn't hurt." You quickly explain, but he doesn't let go of your face or stop freaking out.

"What plastic?"

"Bruce was experimenting with something and it didn't work."

"He did this?" He lets go off your face to run his hands over his own.

"It was accident. He wouldn't hurt me on purpose and you know that."

"I don't care if it was an accident, you're hurt."

"Jason." You say firmly. He's obviously surprised considering you never use his name to address him. "An accident is an accident and you're not gonna hold this against Bruce. He already apologized and clearly felt bad."

"But you're hurt" He pouts.

You step forward and wrap your arms over his shoulders. "It doesn't hurt. It was just some plastic."

"It left a mark."

"I promise I'm okay. And I want you to promise you won't hurt Bruce for this." You look right into his eyes and do your best to give him a puppy dog look. Which isn't necessary because he can't say no to you anyway.

"Fine I promise I won't hurt him." He presses his forehead to yours, "I'd rather leave him to stew in fear anyway."

You chuckle at his words. "As long as no real harm comes to him I won't stop you from having fun."

"Good." He kisses you once and heads back to make dinner. You have no doubt Jason would ever actually hurt Bruce over something so small but you'd rather be safe than sorry.

Hopefully this'll stop Dick and Bruce acting like absolutely children in the future.

Yeah that'll never happen.

Not even 10 minutes after finishing dinner you get a call from Dick.

"How dare you?" He asks the moment you answer the phone. "You're a traitor."

"Again with the dramatics Dick. You can't stop me from going home."

"Let me guess Jason's on his way here to get some revenge right now." He says in a very childish and fearful tone.

"No! I was right, you guys are way more dramatic than you should be and he has no intention of killing anyone." Jason looks at you as you talk to his brother. Clearly wondering what he has to do with this situation.

"I don't believe you. You've shown where your loyalty lies."

"Why are you talking like I'm an enemy or something?"

"Maybe you are! How should I know?"

"Okay you're right." You decide to play along, "I couldn't stop him from wanting to kill Bruce, he's on his way there right now."

Jason furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

"I knew it! Mark my words one day-"

His voice cuts off when you hang up.

"There is something severely wrong with your entire family." You tell Jason with a blank face.

"Yeah I know." He puts his arm over your shoulder and pulls you into him.

Hmm you wonder how long it takes till Dick realizes you lied.

[fushiguruuzzzz]

vii ⊹ ࣪ ˖ Knee Socks 

Series mlist 

Tags — mentions of violence, I couldn’t be bothered to size down the text

Words— 1.2k

Megumi wasn’t watching you. Of course he wasn’t, he wasn’t some sort of creep. Why would he feel a need to watch you anyway? It wasn’t like you were special. No, he didn’t care what you were doing, he barely even knew you so of course he wouldn’t- 

He sighed. His inner monologue was beginning to resemble that of Itadori, it was unlike him. No, he hadn’t been watching you, but he couldn’t deny that when he peered through the open window of his dorm room, he hoped to see you outside. When he caught a glimpse of your [h/c] hair roaming the expanse of the cobblestone that stretched around the residence hall, an odd sort of satisfaction shot through his chest. He’d been meaning to return that bag, anyway. Not that he wanted to speak to you properly or anything. 

He put a hoodie on, the polyester blanketing him and shelling him from the dull chill of the approaching winter. Snow had yet to fall, but the orange of the leaves was beginning to diminish, everything turning into darker, less saturated pallet of colours. He much preferred it this way, he blended in more. The black of his sweater did nothing to stick out against the masses. The soft echo of his footsteps as he descended down the stairs was the only sound ringing through his ears, aside from the soft murmur of surrounding conversations. 

You were simply taking a stroll, headphones resting over your ears as you wandered the paths and walkways of the campus you’d learned to call home. It had only been a few short weeks since you first stepped foot here, but you seemed more in place here than you ever did, even at home. The gentle thump of shoes against ground grew closer and closer, a wave of something akin to what you felt at that Halloween party washing over you. 

A figure fell into step by your side, the midnight blue of his eyes meeting your own. His arm was outstretched, and it took you a moment to look down and see the cherry red grasped in his fingers. Of course, it was your bag! The bag you’d left in his car after chugging enough alcohol with Yuji to kill a grown cow… that was rather embarrassing. You felt your face heat up, a bashful smile tugging at your lips as you let your headphones fall around your neck, and gently took the bag from him. 

“Oh, I almost forgot about that. Thanks,” you said, your hand falling to your side with the bag within it. You could feel your shoulders stiffen, your heartbeat quickening as the realization that this was only your second meeting in half a decade dawned on you. You could barely hold his gaze, not that he was doing much better. A hint of a smile ghosted over his lips, but it was gone in an instant. 

“I figured,” he responded. It didn’t seem as though he’d changed much. There was still a sort of low gravel to his voice, something distant and gruff, but it was more… docile. There was something oddly soft about the way he spoke that felt almost intimate, reserved for those that held a specific importance in his soul. Truly, he was hardly aware of it. Sure, he kept his tone in check. He wanted to be sure that you knew he wasn’t still some sort of delinquent, someone to not be trusted, to not be kept around. He made that mistake once before, he didn’t intend on letting it happen again. 

A tense sort of silence settled over the two of you. You didn’t exactly know what to say, what does one say in this situation? It would be one thing if you’d departed like many friends did, forgetting to exchange numbers or simply falling out of touch. But no. You, the only person he even bothered to trust, socked him in the face with a punch worthy of live TV. 

“It was… odd. Seeing you again,” he broke the silence, daring to sneak a glance at you from the corner of his eye. It wasn’t spoken with disdain or disgust, simply a fact being stated. You nodded, a soft breath of laughter tumbling from your mouth. “It was. You sort of caught me off guard.” 

He eyed you, quirking a brow. “I caught you off guard? You do realize you were standing with my friends, right?” he said. Though he suddenly realized his tone, his voice growing softer as he continued speaking. Of course he didn’t do it too much, though, it’s still Megumi you were speaking to. You chuckled softly once again, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Not fair! Yuji invited me over, it’s not like I infiltrated your friend group on purpose,” you rolled your eyes, a smirk playing at your lips. He mirrored you, too rolling his eyes. Still sassy. Great. 

“I was a little scared, honestly,” you continued, your cheeks tinting a gentle pink. You hoped he’d excuse it, assume it was the cold weather to blame. His eyebrows twitched upwards, question written all over his face. Then it morphed, understanding and a hint of amusement written all over his face. 

“You did make me bleed.”

Your head whipped to the side, arms crossing over your chest. “In my defence, you beat up the guy I was going out with.” He shrugged. He didn’t want you to assume he continued the bad habit of resorting to violence, but he couldn’t act as if it wasn’t justified. “He deserved it,” he said. 

This wasn’t a story you’d heard before. He deserved it? Well, maybe you’d have found out, had the circumstances been different. “How so?” you asked, and it was as if the memory (or lack of) rushed back to him. “That guy was an ass. You didn’t know that he and his friends had a bet on how fast he could get you to… uh, be at his mercy is one way to put it,” he grumbled. 

What. 

You suddenly felt rather stupid. Of course that wasn’t in relation to the boy, a middle school crush, if you could even call him that. It was about Megumi, the way you acted on impulse as a stupid teen when you were oblivious to the fact he had been protecting you. You internally winced, “Oh.” 

“Yeah, oh,” he mimicked, shaking his head softly. “Anyway, I’m not like that anymore, so you don’t have to worry,” he shrugged, glancing to the side. 

You nodded. Yuji had already said so, but hearing it come from him was oddly reassuring. “I assumed so, both considering you have friends and aren’t behind bars by now,” you smirked, growing less anxious as every moment passed. Things weren’t so tense with him, they never seemed to be. He shot a glare at you, though no real heat lied within his eyes. 

“Don’t look at me like that. Remember when you hung Chomei and Okumura from a billboard?” He stayed silent, almost shrinking in on himself as you brought up the memory. He shot you another look, though, a gentle push to shut up. 

“Or when you piled up half of our grade and used them like stepstools? Or when you-“ 

“Alright alright that’s enough I get it.” 

Taglist !¡ —

@meowymeowbreow @1l-ynn @missunrise @kiss-my-asscheeks @starrysho @good-mourning0 @gumims @beaniesayshi @mrowwww @luvvmae @megumislovedoll @qingpunk @azharyy @starsryi @tibibibi123

the billboard incident being canon is so funny to me

guys please check ur settings and make sure im able to tag you before asking to be on the taglist :(

group collab when

missing school for the second time this week yikes

ty for the love on the most recent chap :3 but also why do some chapters have 90 likes and the other is barely getting 30????? Are we only reading the fifth chapter guys be honest.

watching Saiki k and Mha rn…. Chat I’m expanding…

[hoseoksluna]

THE BALL OF LIGHT, i. | myg, jjk

pairing: friend!jeongguk x fem!oc (ft. brother!yoongi)

genre: fluff

word count: 2.9k

summary: life of other people never mirrored yours and jeon jeongguk will never be yours, either.

pin: ball of light / taglist: join / discord: join / masterlist: run

cp: ao3 / wp

warnings: smoking, suggestive but not described thoughts of nudity, pessimism, orphancy / the members in this series are fictional.

note: everybody, welcome the new series. it is a multiple member-centered fanfic, so the names you see in the title don't necessarily mean the pairing is endgame or anything like that. who the main love interest is will be a surprise that the fic will slowly reveal. trust the process with the first chapter. it's short on purpose and i will reveal the information and quicken the plot along the way. let me know what you think. reblogs and esp comments are mandatory unfortunately in the hoseoksluna house:/ ...... sfjsldfjsldfj ENJOY. i love u guys! should i crosspost it on wattpad? (im scared of wattpad)

… Or was his destiny from the start To be just one moment  Near your heart? 

(Ivan Turgenev)

— an epigraph from the book White Nights by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Your brother Yoongi was always the pair of hands that would tug your legs down whenever you would fly in your books for too long. He did it out of tender care and fatherly kindness, calling your name in order for you to come join him in the kitchen for a meal. To be some semblance of a family after the tragedy had sunk its teeth into your bloodline. And what you had never imagined was that one day, you’d have to leave him behind to step inside a dream of this very reality. 

Throughout the trajectory of your girlhood, you had lived inside the worlds of your books. Classical literature that carried more depth, more leniency, despite its hardships that the characters went through, than this world. The idea of love clung to you like a second skin, one you wouldn’t really receive from the two important roles in your life because you weren’t made out of love, but would find within flowery and difficult words of another time. Digging deep and understanding made you fall in love with it, seek it in school, in the streets and inside your own home, only to look and walk past those people still empty-handed. 

In spite of it all, your palms were, somehow, still heavy. As if they carried something invisible for worldly eyes. 

You would see it come to life whenever you would close yourself up in your room, with your folded legs, your short hair wild and with a book on your lap. Dostoyevsky taught you that love could be found upon a fateful coincidence and it marred you in a beautiful way that was pitifully disastrous. It forced your eyes to look for it everywhere, even through the reappearing pain of disappointment, and it especially forced you to look for it at home. 

The hope remained even after both of your parents went to the other side of this love, beyond this world. They passed away due to an unfair illness. And because they went at the same time, you often found yourself thinking if they loved each other in the realm of eternity, when they very seldom loved each other in this temporary realm. 

Your firm, ingrained dreaminess helped you cope with the sudden silence, the aftermath of your state of orphancy. You no longer had to reread a sentence in your book a thousand times, the once screeching voices beyond the door of your bedroom shunned out, dead, but still pulsing. The walls carried the ghosts of those parental fights and Yoongi… he, in his secret sensitivity to the paranormal, braided for you a bracelet of black thread. To keep you safe from those spirits, to help you heal. 

He didn’t have one of his own, and that fact faultlessly described the new role he clothed himself in within this abrupt change. He would stare at the walls with a cold gaze, threatening them with power if they ever made a sound. He sat more at the kitchen table now than he did at his music station in his room, spine hunched over a myriad of bills that would make him pull on his hair until a bald spot formed. On the left side of his head, just above his ear, where his amygdala bloomed with black flowers. 

You would come home from school, glide your eyes over his bare wrist pressed to his cheek,  and touch the tense muscles over his protruded shoulder blades. You saw, vividly, the way his new role tore him apart and you wanted to help him. Physically and emotionally. But Yoongi rejected your help, rejected the emotions you were so willing to smooth out and caress with the lines of your palm that knew love from the way you caressed the pages of your books. He would get up from the table, tell you to shower, and he would walk to the kitchen to prepare you a meal, a meatless one because meat was expensive. He would wash his hands in the sink, let the cold water hide the strands of hair he plucked out of stress. 

He would pretend that everything was fine when in reality, nothing was fine. 

Your parents didn’t leave you a dime, but they let you keep the house you and Yoongi grew up in. Left an unpaid mortgage in your hands instead of happy memories, instead of love. 

But Yoongi, he showed you love. He would show it to you by the way he would boil the water for you in the beginning of yours and his orphancy because he had no money to pay for the water bill and because all the money he had saved in his boyhood was used for funeral expenses. He would show it to you by the way your plate would have meat and his wouldn’t. And he showed it to you by the way he wouldn’t allow you to find a job and financially help him, but instead told you to focus on your degree. To focus on your dream. No matter how many times you pestered him that you could find a part-time job. 

No, your dreams require your full attention, he had said once, that Yoongi-coded frown shadowing his features. Go study. 

And so you bowed your head and silently left, retreating into your room while contemplating in your heart that Yoongi never knew what your dreams looked like. And neither did you. Not until they showed up right in front of you. 

It is a time perfumed by the upcoming winter, the November time of the present. Frost has been kissing each corner of glass one would stumble across in the city of Seoul, decorating it with its affection using its snowflakes. It’s what you’re looking at, perched with your shivering form on the bus stop with the only friend you ever had in your lifetime. 

Or a so-called friend. You don’t think you would use the term friendship with a guy like Jeongguk. 

He represented the unattainable aspect in the books you’ve read. The goal that hasn’t yet been reached. The agonized yearning that hangs by a thread around the character’s life. He embodied the aspect of pain itself—because if life had been a little kinder to you, he would be yours. 

Life, however, isn’t kind. 

Life is realistic.

You met the boy at a wrong time in his life. Passing by him on the stairway of your high school, you caught him in a tense, yet volatile situation of an emotional kind. Spring, still reminiscent of winter, had wrapped itself around your nineteen years of age, and you, dreaming a strange dream that you couldn’t wake up from, ran late for your class. You hadn’t spoken to him prior this fateful day, though you knew of his existence. He was just a background character that you didn’t pay any attention to until he blazed up with life and the sparks of sensitivity on that empty staircase. And you couldn’t take the other way; you couldn’t turn around and miss the class. You had to walk by him and his girlfriend at the time while they were in the middle of an argument that shook through the echo of the space. 

You walked by them, but the encounter changed your life. It changed your life because Jeongguk’s cheeks were tearstained, glistening in the uncanny white of the staircase. His eyes were fixed on yours, his eyelashes wet and long—prettily, so terribly prettily. You quietly apologized, running up the stairs as rapidly as you could, and his eyes did not leave yours until you were out of his view. And then you heard the shuffling of feet and where there was an absolute turmoil, silence replaced it. 

Jeongguk found you that very day. 

Alarm was eclipsed over those puffy eyes, his eyelashes no longer wet, but still long, so terribly pretty. You were on your way out, exiting the building, when he grabbed a hold of your backpack, stopping you from disappearing. And when you gazed back with absolute horror, your short bob swishing around you, Jeongguk smiled a soft half-smile, which thinned out that negative emotion—as if he did it on purpose, not wanting to scare you. 

What’s your name? he started with a question, his shoulders slouched and drooping, an evident tiredness misting him in a drowsy aura. His voice was strained, bubbling in his throat as if he either screamed his vocal cords raw or didn’t speak for a while, choosing silence. Both options turned your heart upside down, painfully. You felt a greater pity for him than you ever have for someone in your lifetime—and that was the beginning of all your firsts with him. 

When you said your name, Jeongguk averted his gaze and nodded his head. You expected him to ask you which year you were born, but he kept his eyes low as he uttered the words, which made your pity for him grow into a bare tree  with just one twig, a seemingly singular wing, within you. 

I don’t know how much you heard, but Ka-eun didn’t do anything wrong. It was a misunderstanding and I would appreciate it if you kept it to yourself. 

You had heard a female screaming, seething voice, but due to your sleepy state, you hadn’t made out what those words actually were. But remembering the tears dripping off of his lashes, you realized how hurtful those words thrown at his must had been. And while you thought about this all, Jeongguk took your hand, pried open your fingers and fished out of his pocket a small banana milk. 

Ka-eun, the it-girl of the high school. Jeongguk protected her reputation, in spite of the fact that she didn’t deserve it at all. 

That was the kind of person Jeongguk was. 

It wasn’t the only encounter you had with him. He would smile at you and greet you while passing you in the halls. Would put banana milks sometimes on your desk early in the morning. Would sit beside you at lunch when he wasn’t on speaking terms with her. And he would confide in you while knowing nothing about you. 

That’s the reason why you can’t call your intertwinement with Jeongguk a friendship. Certainly not, after the person he became when uni life spread its roots in yours and his and he chose the one opposite of yours. 

The faculty of medicine stood facing your faculty of philosophy and literature, and Jeongguk, wearing his green scrubs and his oversized hoodie, would meet you during lunch breaks, insisting that you spend it together because he didn’t know anyone else and he was too anxious to meet new people because of what Ka-eun put him through. 

But Jeongguk didn’t eat. Not so much like he used to. 

The trauma and the difficulty of his field forced him to turn to cigarettes. And him blowing out the smoke the other way so you don’t inhale it while eating your lunch made another twig, another wing begin to grow on your tree within your chest for him. 

You didn’t love him, but he was kind to you and he meant something to you. You never loved a man, besides Yoongi and Dostoyevsky. And Jungkook puffing out the smoke like that, he reflected Yoongi and his brotherly love for you in a way that made you dream. Dream about a romantic love that everyone else seems to have so easily, except for you. About that romantic love you read about in your favorite Dostoyevsky book White Nights. 

But perhaps the affinity you had for Jeongguk was some kind of love that the books haven’t written about, at least later on. A kind of non-romantic love that you, yourself, came up with. A love that meant nothing in this world, but everything to you. A love that blazed up like the tip of Jeongguk’s cigarette that he lit up for you at the beginning of autumn of this year, letting you try it out just because he felt like it. 

Another first that has become a habit. 

You didn’t have money of your own to spend it on packs of cigarettes, but Jeongguk did. And he’s never been the kind of person who was stingy. He would give himself if he could, and it completes him—the act of giving and the other person’s response of receiving. 

His eyes burst with light at this very moment, a few months later, just like they did the first time when he lit up a cigarette for you. Though this time, you don’t need his help. You feel their heat, in the middle of this frosty bus stop, as he watches you place the cigarette he pulled up from his pack for you, his own hanging from his lips, unlit. He always waits for you to light up your own first like the gentleman he is, but something about his gaze is different. You sense their intensity, their foreign, foreign intensity that you don’t think is meant for you. And when you take that first puff, you expect it to leave you—like you’ve learned that it always does—but for some reason it doesn’t. 

There’s depth to the eye contact once you reciprocate it. Murkiness descends upon the pair of you, the sun parting ways with the day in a much quicker way that you still haven’t gotten used to. And along with it, a light layer of snow begins to fall. 

Something is meaningful about it—like it should be written down. Jeongguk’s eyes of lingering seriousness, pensive. The snowflakes that settle upon his ebony hair. How silky they must be to the touch. Always so poofy and voluminous. 

Your hands itch to write and Jeongguk doesn’t ask for his pink lighter back. He merely keeps staring, and you start to think that maybe something is weighing his heart heavily. Something personal that he will soon pour out. Like he always does. 

You’re the listener, never the talker, but something inside you urges you, strangely, to make the first move. Get him talking, get him smoking, so he can go home, go to bed and awake with a fresh consciousness, ready to be filled with anatomy, sicknesses and all the other stuff he needs to cram. 

The hand that longs to write lifts, and it feels natural. It feels natural to flick your thumb on the lighter and call fire to life. It feels natural when Jeongguk purses his lips, lifting the cigarette in the process, and holds it up for you while his hands remain warm in the pockets of his oversized black jacket. It feels natural to watch him suck in, the cheeks that carry too many memories of his tears hollowing out. 

And for a second that is too brief, you let your soul imagine what it would be like… to have Jeongguk as your boyfriend. 

To have the full, ceaseless measure of his love. The one that is meant for the better people, but not for you. 

To have his hands touch your skin in a way that would convey what he feels for you— 

“Have you told your brother yet?” 

Too, too brief, that second. Internally, you take your imagination and sew it shut with a pink thread. Pastel pink, like his lighter. 

The question aches as if you pricked your heart with the needle. You haven’t told Yoongi that you smoke one cigarette a day with a boy after school. You haven’t even told your journal. All in fear that the only life you ever managed to experience out of the realm of your books would simply disperse, never to be found again. 

In fear that Yoongi would be mad and you’d add another layer of stress on top of his already high pile. In fear that he would yell at you like your father did over meaningless things. 

“No,” you respond, softly, dropping your gaze to the ashy tip of your cigarette, flicking it off. The prickling sensation deepens as the iciness of the weather grows. You shiver, sighing. The tree in you does as well. “I’ll never tell him. Never—”

“Never in a million years,” he finishes for you, and your mouth parts in the overwhelming realization that you were wrong. 

Jeongguk does know something about you. He remembers that this is a sentence that repeats in your vocabulary multiple times a day. And there’s such intimacy to it, him knowing this, him finishing the sentence for you, him being educated in the matter that bears your name. 

Or perhaps not. Perhaps you’re too starved of any male attention, love and touch. 

Your imagination in you fights against the seam. 

“What happens if he sees you?” Jeongguk asks, and you pause before replying. Take a puff of your cigarette, watch as a miniscule star of mischief begins to live within the macadamia chocolate of his eyes—as if the principle of him secretly corrupting you utterly enthralls him. You picture that’s what he smells like underneath all those clothes of his, your imagination poking a finger through the seam. And you let it—you let it grasp you because it’s stronger than you. 

Macadamia, musk, cedarwood. 

The kind of lustful smell that is dark to the sight, but innocent in its core. 

Behind him, the blue murkiness fully evens out, no hint of the sun’s coloring painting its corners with positivity. Pessimism abides, and you feel it burying itself into your literature-woven bones. 

You’ve been waiting twenty minutes for the bus, Jeongguk even longer for his. The roads are long and empty, darkening the longer you stand here. The snow forms a firm layer on the ground, and you already anticipate Yoongi’s anger-infused worry, crawling all over you. 

You turn to look at Jeongguk, your blood flow at full halt. 

“War happens, Jeongguk,” you say, swallowing thickly. “If Yoongi and I see each other outside of the walls of our house.”

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @jjk7k , @tkslovechild , @euphoricmyth , @cinmmongirl , @ririkookiemonster , @perfectiondazesworld , @https-mei , @bangtansonyeondanue , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl , @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk , @parkinglot-nights

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

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[sleepyparalysisdmon]

SVT with an ADHD partner

Requested? Yes! (and they are still open!)

Genre: comfort

Seungcheol

Whether you’re a student, taking on new responsibilities at work, or picking up a big project at home, Cheol always encourages it, especially if it’s something that you really want to do or are passionate about. But he’s concerned when you’re carrying a lot of stress related to these things. Over dinner, you lament that you’re having trouble prioritizing everything you need to do because everything feels both important and urgent. He asks you to make him a list and your eyes glaze over a little because you definitely don’t have one, but he’s insistent. So you jot down what you can remember and the meal is long forgotten as he helps you work through the order things need to be done in by due date or how long it will take, and how important things really are (is this for an elective class or a major class? Is this for your boss or for someone else? Is this part of the project a hazard to leave unfinished in the house for long or will it just be a little bit messy if it sits for a bit?). He does it in such a delicate yet detailed way that the next day you don’t feel so overwhelmed by the long list because you actually have a game plan. 

Jeonghan 

You two regularly play a little game called ‘Hannie, can you help me find something’. You never know where you last had it or saw it, but he always asks just in case. He helps you look, tearing apart the house if he has to, especially if it’s an important thing. When this lost item is found (and it almost always is), he’ll hand it back to you and teasingly say something like, ‘what would you do without me?’. But if you ever seem upset by this comment or having lost the thing in the first place, he’ll be quick to reassure you that he’ll always play this game with you. Still, he buys little things to give you visible ‘homes’ for things - like a hook on the back of the door so your favorite sweaters and jackets don’t get wrinkled in the floor, or a decorative bowl to drop your favorite jewelry into so you don’t lose your favorite ring, or getting clear containers for things and labeling them so you know where to look for something. These little things make your life easier, so he’ll keep doing them. 

Joshua

You often lament about how cluttered your space is. You say it’s an organized mess and it wouldn’t normally bother you because you feel that you can function in it just fine, but you’ve been shamed about it a few times, whether it be the wrinkled, free-floating papers in your backpack, or the haphazard stacks of random things on your desk at work, or a total inability to keep your closet organized and not all over your floor. Where as Hannie is worried about your object permanence and losing things, Joshua is worried about adding some structure to these things to take stress off of you and reduce the shame you might feel about it. He buys you folders for each of your classes in colors you like, or a few cute labeled baskets for your desk to sort things by status, or installing a new closet organizer that might be more user friendly. He also absolutely doesn’t mind to come behind you and pick up and straighten a few things here and there if it prevents you from stressing about it when you see it later. 

Jun 

When you ask him how to make that one recipe that you both really like, Jun mindlessly rambles off the instructions. You don’t answer and he notices that your eyes glaze over. You ask him to repeat it again, but your glazed look doesn’t change when he does. He asks if you’re okay, and you admit that it’s a lot of steps and you’re afraid you’re going to mess it up. You’re not a bad cook, not by a long shot, but he sees that you need to take one thing at a time. So he goes to the kitchen and cooks with you, guiding you through the recipe. The following week, you find a neat little binder with handwritten recipes and detailed step by step instructions. There’s even a long strip of tape on the margin of each page, allowing you to mark off what you’ve done and not done with a dry erase marker. (I’m low key emotional thinking about this level of thoughtfulness.)

Hoshi 

No matter what he’s had to do that day or how tired he is, he is never too tired to match your energy. If you’re restless and need to get up and do something, he’s going with you. No request is too wild. A walk around the block? Sure. A sprint around the block? He’ll laugh but say ‘why not’ and start a game of tag. Need to blast music? He’ll hand you his phone to pick what you want to play on speaker. Need something visually stimulating? He’s putting on some bright, flashy game for the two of you to play. Genuinely, his creativity knows no bounds. 

Wonwoo

Everybody has bad days and you’re included in that. Wonwoo might have a little bit of a temper, but does everything he can to squash it with you, even when you are particularly quick to anger. It doesn’t prevent every single fight, but most often, he’ll tug you over to sit with him and ask what made you so angry and what he can do to help. Sometimes it’s something he can help and sometimes it’s not, but he does his absolute best to meet you with understanding when your temper flares, knowing that it could be a thousand (sometimes seemingly unrelated) things that made it bubble up in the first place. When the fights are unavoidable, he’s so apologetic afterwards because he absolutely hates fighting with you.

Woozi

He absolutely understands that sometimes some things just can’t be finished in a timely manner or at all, but he gets a lot of satisfaction out of finishing things when he can. One day, you’re watching him put away things you’ve left out or closing things you opened but forgot to close. He does this wordlessly without an ounce of bitterness, but still, you lament because you can’t seem to be able to close a damn cabinet, much less finish a big project. Will not let you linger on that because he genuinely doesn’t mind doing these little things, but he’ll always offer to help you make progress on those big projects. Literally does not matter what it is, he’ll take an active role by working on it with you, or take a more inactive role by just accompanying you as you work on it. You’ll never turn it down because you enjoy his company.

DK

Now I promise I’m not recycling ideas here, but the concept mentioned in my bipolar reaction for Seokmin applies here too. You like to talk and he likes to talk so really, you guys are the perfect match. He gets you, but sometimes others don’t. If anyone ever makes a comment that you’re talking too much, he will go out of his way to be even worse just to prove a point, because no one makes his baby feel bad!! He will not let you feel upset by this for long because he loves that he can talk to you about literally anything. He’d skip almost anything if he could just to keep the conversation going sometimes. Will forever be both the #1 fan and #1 defender of your yapping. 

Mingyu 

Now he’s protective naturally and you fire up a lot of those instincts. At first, he thought it was just because of how much he cares, but then he realizes it’s your bravery (or rather your impulsivity) that makes him that way. Because you will walk home alone at night, or go out and overdo it on the drinks, or go toe-to-toe with someone twice your size just because you’re pissed off, or speed when you drive. He loves your bravery, admires it even, but dreads the thought of you getting hurt when you sometimes lack this sense of danger for certain situations. So he walks with you or drives you everywhere, and accompanies you to the club every single time he can, and deescalates a tense situation or pulls you away all together. It really is just another reason for him to never leave your side, like he needed another one. 

Minghao

He knows stress is unavoidable to some extent, but he’s sometimes very worried about how it weighs you down more than most people. While Cheol might help you manage the source of the stress, Mingaho will be more worried about reducing the stress itself because it’s a good tool to have when you can’t avoid stressful situations or prioritize your way through it. Again, I promise I’m not recycling ideas here, but I genuinely think he’d be all over making sure you eat and sleep and find ways to relax. Even if you aren’t into meditation, he’ll have you try things like deep breathing, painting, and tai chi. Will not let you feel bad for a second about how other people seem to be able to handle this sort of stress. It doesn’t matter if other people can because it’s you he’s worried about. 

Seungkwan

While you’re a big picture person, he’s a small details person. It’s never bothered him, he actually enjoys that you think differently than him and open his eyes to things. But the cool thing is that he can do the same for you. You’re overwhelmed by or totally miss details sometimes, but he’ll do little things to show you that it’s not so scary. Like if you’re watching a movie together, he’ll pick out a little detail and say, “Oh my god, did you notice that?” He’ll roll the movie back and let you focus on it. Or he’ll encourage you to slow down for a second and reread the email you’re about to send. Or he’ll assure you that it’s okay if you made a mistake and that you can fix it. He will never, ever let you feel stupid for needing the little reminders to take a moment and pay attention to the details.

Vernon

Now, here’s the thing. He’s forgetful and yet not. Let me explain. He knows you forget to pack your lunch, so he does. He knows you forget your laptop charger when you put away your laptop, so when he sees the lone charger, he’ll put it with your laptop. He knows you sometimes forget to put the cap back on the toothpaste and puts it back on wordlessly. But you help him too. You remember names when he doesn’t. You don’t complain when he forgets to put the toilet seat down. You sometimes remember his schedule better than he does. I’m actually really soft thinking about the way you guys might help each other out with your own versions of forgetfulness. 

Chan 

In the beginning of your relationship, he thought your impatience was kind of cute. Don’t get me wrong, he still does, but he has come to realize just how frustrated you are sometimes because of it. Sometimes it’s little things like something taking too long to bake in the oven. Sometimes it’s that it takes too much time to actually fold your laundry. Sometimes it’s that slow driver in front of you on your way home. Sometimes it’s that you have an appointment in a couple hours and you can’t fathom squeezing anything else in before that. He helps by trying to counter this impatience in ways, sometimes subtle, sometimes not. He distracts you while something bakes, or he offers to fold your laundry, or he drives you wherever you need to go, handing you the aux cord. And on those appointment days, he wakes up early with you to help fill the time in a way that doesn’t feel constricting, assuring you that you won’t be late because he won’t let you be.

[songbirdseung]

payphone / sim jaeyun

thank you for 1k! where molding back a broken heart starts with you standing at a phonebooth in a foreign country trying to figure out what the hell to do and thinking where it went wrong. pairing stranger!jake x reader genre angst at first but turns into fluff. strangers to friend, possibly lovers

usually you'd feel very claustrophobic being in a tight enclosed space and feel anxious when people look at you regardless of expression but right now you had a different task that was highly more important that your own feelings right now.

you still had two whole months being in this country whose language you don't speak, with people you don't know nor trust but you were desperate to leave behind a memory, a person. because quite frankly being in his own home country didn't help you with trying to move on due to the fact that whenever and wherever you looked, something reminded you of him and that stupid smile you love so much.

it's weird, really. why are you in a phone booth when you can easily use your phone and do much more with it than a telephone attached to a wire in a box? easy answer: your phone died.

so, here you were. in this clear glassed box surrounded by people that are giving you looks as they pass by. since your tear-stained face with never ending tears flow out along with frantic and desperate movement would cause anyone to look.

some people tried to help but gave up when they realized you didn't speak their language but gave you enough reassurance and comfort your ex could ever give.

"damn it!" you shove back the phone into its switch hook as the automated voice came through for the nth time. sighing at the realization you no longer have any loose change to use.

a stupid idea but the only idea you had left was to start softly banging your head on the glass and calling yourself stupid for even making the decision to surprise your long-distance boyfriend.

"you okay in there?" a warm soft voice with a charming aussie accent along with a knock on the glass gets your attention. turning your head to be met with worried brown eyes looking at you. clearing your throat as you wipe your tears away, "uhm..you want an honest answer?"

"that's why i asked" okay, maybe that small chuckle was too much for your just broken heart could take.

"then…no"

"can i open the door or could you get out so i could help you in any way?"

never in a million years would you blindly follow nor interact with a stranger, let alone a stranger that was a guy… but that;-'s just you being anxious and suspicious. although, for some reason, this stranger felt like a warm hug or maybe it's just your emotions going haywire and your actually out of it. either way, you made the decision to step out of the booth and sit in a cafe with this stranger.

hands down, the best decision you made this whole month because know you understand why people say a stranger can understand you way better than anyone else in your life. this man who you are sitting across from right now, he felt like a warm room after being in the cold for hours on end. he just sat there, listened to you and sometimes even offering sweet and comforting words that would reassure you that maybe not everyone and everything is horrible.

if your ex barely gave you the bare minimum, this guy was giving you beyond that. no, you weren't exactly falling for this guy just like that. you've been through too much to do that to yourself. it was just a friendly acknowledgement that this person is a gem and that you can't let it go. there was no need to polish this one, he was already too perfect.

you sat at that cafe for hours, it started off with you crying to a whole stranger to leaving the cafe with a new friend, sim jaeyun… maybe there is a reason to stay in Seoul for the two months you had left.

-

"you're telling me your douchebag of an ex tried to get back together you with?" jake gives you a look that says "you better not have said yes" which makes you laugh and nudge him

"don't look at me like that"

"just tell me you didn't get back with him, woman!" he nudges you back and steals your cup of m&m's "these are mine now, by the way" while popping one in his mouth as he waits for your answer, eyebrow raised with an attitude and all.

"of course I didn't, doofus" trying to snatch back your beloved snack but to no success.

banter and bickering with jake was now your favorite thing. it's been two days since he found you crying in a phone booth, being a lovely, kind and friendly person but now he's teasing you and play fighting with you as if you two have known each other you whole lives.

"no offense but did you really think your long-distance relationship with him would work despite his track record?" he sits down, still holding your chocolate hostage.

"i was young!" trying to defend yourself, rolling your eyes at him as you at down next to him on the picnic blanket.

"it was only a year ago" okay, who is this diva? because he's giving you a deadpan "are you for real?" look. "just admit you're stupid, yn" shaking his head as he continues to eat the candy, looking at the ducks in the river in front of them.

"i'm not stup-"

"you think ducks can eat chocolate?" you see him holding one piece of the m&m's, rolling it with his pointer and thumb. "jake, you'll kill it!" he chuckles and eat the candy "it was just a question"

it makes you scoff and chuckle at him "look who's stupid now?" soon after that question, you feel your upper body meeting the grass next to you along with jake's defensive tone.

you never had a friendship like this. all your girl friends were the loving, caring, soft type of friends who love to sugar coat and beat around the bush when it comes to comforting you, you know the usual. they usually are gentle with you and are soft spoken but with jake? nope. say bye bye to that because the man will literally tell you straight up that you were doing something dumb. but again, for some odd reason, he was more real and comforting than anyone you've known. he can be a pain in the ass and hella competitive when you two play games but overall, he's such a fun guy to be around.

-

"have you dated before, jake?" you watch him put down his ramen and look up at you. there was something in his eyes that held something you couldn't really figure out. maybe a sense of longing?

"no- well, i mean- i've been a few dates set up by my friends in australia but I never actually had a girlfriend, why do you ask?" now paying full attention to you, waiting for where this conversation leads to

"i was just curious because i just can't believe a guy like you doesn't have a girl" you hear him sigh and see him shrug

"it was never really a priority"

"that's it? what about the girls you dated?"

"i don't like blind dates, i prefer to find "the one" naturally, you know?" you nod, telling him you understood and got him mindset on dating and relationships.

the conversation on his love life continued until he whined and whined, asking you to stop and let him finish his lunch. jake wasn't entirely secretive with you, he's actually been very welcoming and open to letting you know him and bringing you into his life. although, like any other person, there were things he like to keep to himself.

-

the next two months were a whirlwind of shared experiences and growing affection. you and jake were practically inseparable, exploring seoul's vibrant streets, from bustling markets to serene temples.

one day, you embarked on a culinary adventure, attempting to make kimchi. what started as a fun activity quickly turned into a chaotic mess. red pepper flakes flew everywhere, turning the kitchen into a colorful battlefield. jake, ever the comedian, couldn't resist capturing the moment, teasing you about your culinary skills.

"you call that kimchi? it looks more like a crime scene!" he joked, doubling over with laughter. you playfully swatted him, but couldn't help but join in the fun.

another memorable moment was a karaoke night. initially hesitant, you let jake's encouragement push you out of your comfort zone. as you belted out your favorite tunes, your shyness melted away. you even attempted a duet with jake, a hilarious performance that had the entire karaoke bar roaring with laughter.

late nights often found you on a rooftop, stargazing and sharing your hopes, dreams, and fears. hours would pass as you connected on a deeper level, the city lights twinkling in the background. it was during these quiet moments that you realized how much you valued jake's friendship, his honesty, and his unwavering support.

the quiet hum of the city faded into the background as you and jake settled into a cozy evening. a bowl of popcorn, a soft blanket, and a heartwarming movie filled the screen. the familiar comfort of his presence washed over you as you leaned into his side.

a shared laugh, a knowing glance, a gentle touch—these were the moments that painted your time together in vibrant hues. the simplicity of it all was breathtaking. no grand gestures, no dramatic declarations, just the quiet understanding that grew between you.

as the credits rolled, a comfortable silence enveloped the room. you turned to face jake, his eyes soft and contemplative. a warmth spread through you, a realization dawning upon you. the bond you shared was something truly special, a friendship that had blossomed into something more.

the days that followed were a whirlwind of shared experiences, laughter, and quiet moments. you explored hidden alleys, savored delectable street food, and lost yourselves in the vibrant tapestry of seoul. each day was a new adventure, a fresh memory etched into your hearts.

as your departure date drew near, a bittersweet feeling settled over you. the thought of leaving seoul and saying goodbye to jake filled you with a sense of longing. on your last night, you wandered along the han river, the city lights reflecting on the calm waters.

"i'm going to miss you," you confessed, your voice barely a whisper.

jake turned to face you, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "i'll miss you too. but hey, this isn't goodbye, just see you later."

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

For the Monkey!reader wanting to travel away from flower fruit mountain, may we ask how that whole conversation went down? Like what Wukong and Macaque were thinking right then and there, what they did to stop reader from leaving.

I accidently went out of order 😅 but hey, I hope you all like this ask!

"Goodbye" - though she's never actually able to sat goodbye.

Macaque and Wukong Pov of Monkey!Reader leaving, okay let's go!

Three days, it had been three days since Macaque and Wukong had their fight. Macaque still had a bruise on his back while Wukong had a bruise on his chest. And to think it was over something so- agreeable. They both agreed on the same thing and fought over it! Macaque wanted to laugh at his own stupidity.

"How's your back?" Wukong spoke up, his eyes drifting to him mate who was laying on his stomach in their nest.

Macaque glanced at him and smirked, he had such a look on his face, a look of guilt. Something that he didn't tend to have, "It's fine. I swear you're the only one who would be able to actually break my back." He stuck his tongue out teasing him even though he wasn't being sexual.

Wukong's face burned almost instantly and he sat up in the nest. His tail swishing back and forth as he sat up. He felt bad about the fight, he hurt his mate over some stupid argument. An argument that would have been so easily solved if they had only talked to each other without him throwing a punch.

Macaque’s words definitely made it harder, Wukong had broken two of the bones in his spine. If he had been mortal- No they were both two times immortal now. Besides Macaque had broken two of his ribs. So it was fair...

"I'm sorry," Macaque muttered taking Wukong's hand in his own, a smile on his face.

He was over being mad about it, they had both spent the first day being mad at each other. Until... Reader talked to them, she begged them to forgive each other even though she didn't know why they were fighting. She looked so heartbroken when they were fighting, so innocent and naive about what they were fighting about. Completely unaware that they were fighting about her~

He couldn't believe that he actually thought Wukong was going to leave him for her. No he should have known better, he supposed the alcohol was partially to blame. Drinking when he was already annoyed at his mate's careless words. All he did was give her a hug, a farewell one at that as she went home.

"I'm sorry too, you know I love you. I love you so much," Wukong said leaning down and giving Macaque several kisses on the face.

"My love are you going soft on me?" Macaque purred with a snap of his teeth teasingly.

Wukong grinned his tail wagging as he nuzzled his face. A smile that didn't leave his face until there was a knock on the door. Letting out a low groan he turned to the door and debated. His people were important to him, but sometimes he just wanted a moment alone. Before he could send whoever it was away, Macaque piped up cheerfully.

"Come in Reader," Wukong froze, he nearly sent his darling away!? Thankfully Macaque stopped such a dreadful mistake.

He couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face as Reader gently pushed open the door. You peaked inside your eyes cautiously looking at the two, you had been walking on eggshells since the fight. Having to pull several monkey demons away and seeing how much damage the two could cause must have scared you. Luckily with your interference no one was hurt. No one except for the two who were stupidly fighting.

"Hey, you two feeling okay?" You asked as you stepped inside a tray of cut up fruit in her hands.

Both Wukong and Macaque could feel their hearts swell at the sight, you were so sweet! Their darling was making sure they were okay after their fight. It was beautiful and endearing.

"Of course. A little scuffle isn't going to take us down!" Wukong boasted immediately taking some of the peaches that you so lovingly cut up.

Macaque pushed himself up and sat to take some plums. Reader had made sure to get only their favorites, this is why you were perfect. Perfect to be their beautiful and loving Queen. He couldn't wait to start planning the courtship, him and Wukong had started discussing a few ideas but nothing had become concrete yet. Mostly because it takes a few days to heal bones.

Because they were both twice immortal it took far less time than for any mere mortal. A very nice benefit of having such a reckless mate who decided to learn Taoism and break OUT of the Diyu. Macaque nearly wrung his neck for that one when he heard his mate was there in the first place.

"That's good to hear. Would you two like some tea? I can brew some up for you," your voice was calm and sweet as you spoke.

"No need, your company is enough," Wukong grinned causing you to chuckle sitting down at the edge of the nest, not inside of it but right outside.

Intruding on someone else's nest was heavily frown upon in the demon community, especially on Flower Fruit Mountian. The only ones allowed in one's nest were their cubs and lovers. It was an intimate thing, being allowed in someone else's nest.

And damn did Wukong and Macaque want to drag you into their nest. They wanted nothing more than for you to get nice and comfortable as you curled up between them. Macaque had to hit Wukong with his tail before he did something stupid.

Macaque sighed when Wukong let out a whine, his eyes on you as you tilted your head in confusion. It was so cute! Your fluffy fur swishing as you looked at them, your tail curling and unfurling beside you. You were dressed in a pretty pink hanfu that pooled on the ground, golden roses were embroidered into the fabric. A gift from Spirit's family. And you looked stunning in it.

How were they so lucky for you to come straight into their land. They didn't even have to convince you to come onto the island, no you came all by yourself. Albeit tagging along Spirit who was almost a pain in their ass.

Pushing the thought of Spirit constantly dragging you away from them the two concentrated on the present. Wukong munching on the peaches that you had for him, you even cut them into little rabbits. It was adorable, he almost felt bad eating them... almost.

"So what have you been up to? You normally don't come around for another hour," at least the last two days you hadn't. Macaque slightly narrowed his eyes when you looked to the side sheepishly. A hand on the back of your head as you looked anywhere but at them.

Just as you were about to speak, Wukong spoke up instead. "Not that we mind. We love having our favorite friend around. Seriously we love having you around."

Your entire posture stiffened for a moment before you looked at them. Wukong waited expectantly for you to tell them about what some cubs got into or how the older monkey demonesses did your hair or helped you learn some new fruit. You were blending in with their island so well, it made seeing you as their new mate all the easier.

"A-about that," those were words that neither monkey wanted to hear but neither moved as they waited for her to explain. She would explain and they would know they were worried for nothing-

"I'm going to be leaving soon. Spirit and I talked and we decided it's time to go back home," you said, your eyes finally looking towards the two at the end of your statement. You froze when you saw how their faces went dark.

"No," Macaque was the first to speak.

You looked confused, "Yes? I'm going home with Spirit. I'll come visit sometimes but this isn't MY home. You know? I never planned to stay here from the beginning."

"You can't leave," Wukong's voice was barely a whisper.

"What?-" you couldn't finish your words as you were suddenly dragged into the nest, Wukongs tail wrapped around yours as his arms circled your waist.

"No, no, no, you're not leaving us. We finally agreed darling. We want you here, this IS your home, this is where you belong, with US," Wukong almost shouted as he curled around you.

Your hands instinctively tried to push him away by his chest but it didn't work, he was a stone monkey for a reason. While you weren't a weak demon there was no way you could push him away when he didn't want you to. Even knowing this you still tried.

“What are you talking about!?” You growled, you didn’t like being crowded, you didn’t like being STUCK. “Macaque can you get him off-“

“No, I’m sorry but he’s right,” Macaque replied and as he did his own tail wrapped around yours and he nuzzled his face against yours.

“What’s going on??” You snapped back only for Wukong to growl lowly.

A shiver ran down your spine at the sound. No one wanted The Monkey King to be mad at them, not even other monkey demons. You looked up at him with wide fearful eyes, your hands and arms pressed against his chest from his tight hold.

“We were going to wait to tell you. We still have so many things to plan before hand but-,” Macaque debated on what to say. He was going to tell you. He just needed to think for a second, however his King beat him to the punch.

“We love you, you’re going to be our Queen, our MATE, so you can’t leave,” Wukong growled into your ear as he pulled you closer letting himself fall onto the nest.

“Ahhh!” you shrieked as he hit the pillows. Another set of arms wrapped around your waist. “H-hold on I never agreed to this-“

“Mate~ our precious mate. We love you,” Wukong purred nuzzling against your neck, your neck that was bare and unmarked.

“I-“

“We aren’t going to let you leave. You are ours from the moment you came here till the end of time,” Macaque muttered in your ear giving it a light nip.

Red heat burned through you in an instant, this was no happening. There was no way that this was happening. You opened your mouth to speak again only to let out a squeak when you felt teeth graze against your furry neck. Panic set in and your breathing quickened.

You struggled for a moment before you were able to shove your fist against Wukong’s chin. You forced his jaw up and his face away from your neck. In hindsight he had actually allowed it without any fuss. He was merely not letting you go. Not now! This was not happening! Heat pooled in your cheeks, they were joking right. There was no way that they felt that way for you. You were just a normal monkey demon who had followed your sister to their island.

“We love you, you’re so precious to us,” Macaque purred as he snuggled into your back. “I’m sorry but we can’t let you go. Not anymore, you’re far too precious our sweet love.”

Your eyes widened in fear as Wukong whispered in your ear, “you’re not going anywhere. You’ll stay nice and safe on Flower Fruit Mountain. AS OUR QUEEN~”

So I'm going to be honest, they never get cursed in this version of the story. So it's just Monkie!Reader Au. I won't be putting it under the Cursed Warlords Tag anymore. Still a yandere au though.

[nocasdatsgay]

A Lesson in Heartbreak

2 of 3: Words are Painful Weapons

Rating: T | Word Count: 3983 | Pairing: Azris/Reader

Summary: Eris and Azriel made promises they didn’t keep. When you confront them about it, Eris says some things he instantly regrets. Now him and Azriel have to fix what they broke.

Neapolitan Bonds Masterlist| Read on A03| Part 1| Read Below

Warnings: Angst, Eris has a sharp tongue, alcohol, drunk!Eris

A/N: HI so… yeah… I am alive. Sorry this took so long. A second shout out to @daycourtofficial for inspiration with Azriel and his comments when he comes back.

Tagging: @myromanempiree @pit-and-the-pen @lilah-asteria @thisblogisaboutabook @hieragalbatorixdottir @mybestfriendmademe @paleidiot @div94 (if you are tagged by accident or want to be tagged in the future, let me know)

“There. A letter to Tarquin and a letter to her.” Eris sent them with a flick of his wrist. 

Azriel calmed enough to sit while Eris penned the letters. They needed you to come home so they could talk with you in person. Deep down, Eris was thoroughly embarrassed over the whole situation. Not only at himself but for you leaving to another court. He wondered if this was how Tamlin felt all those years ago, when Feyre ran off to the Night Court. Eris suddenly had empathy for him in retrospect. 

He slumped back in his chair and sighed. He needed a stiff drink. But he wanted to be sober if you came home. Azriel sat across from him, arms  crossed against his chest and brows furrowed like he did when he was deep in thought. His eyes were still rimmed in red from earlier. The Shadows were nowhere in sight. 

“What?” Eris looked at his mate. 

Az cut his eyes to Eris, still frowning. “I want you to tell me exactly what you said to her.”

“I’m surprised your shadows didn’t already tell you.” Eris didn’t hold back his eye roll or his sigh. “I don’t fully remember.” 

Everything was a blur from earlier. When he got like that, he never remembered what he said. 

“Well think fucking harder.” Eris could see Azriel’s fingers dig into his sleeves. 

“She came in screaming at me about missing dinner.” It reminded him too much of his mother. The way she would yell at his father when he was a youngling. Eris tried to focus, to put that aside. “I told her the high lord meeting was more important. We were hosting, and.”

After a moment Az said, “And what, Eris”

He cursed under his breath. “I said she would understand that if she had bothered to help. Since she isn’t helping, she doesn't get to complain that we are busy. She knew what she was getting into when we mated.”

Azriel recoiled where he sat. “How could you say that to her?” 

“It’s the truth, Azriel.” Eris brushed back his hair with his hand. “This is what it’s like to be mated to a High Lord. We have responsibilities. Yes, I was wrong for implying she didn’t want to help because she asked and I told her she didn’t have to. I admit that.” 

Shadows came out as Az replied. “And we made promises we didn’t keep.”

“I know I did. It eats me alive that I broke them but what else am I supposed to do? It’s our first time hosting, I’ve only been High Lord for a decade and a half. She’s worked for multiple courts. She knows these things have to be perfect or others will talk.” 

“That doesn’t mean we can’t take a break to have dinner with her.” Az countered. 

Eris glared at him. “Do not act like you are any better. You weren’t there either.”

He winced. “You’re right. I wasn’t.” Then he glared back. “But maybe I would have been there if you let other people do their job instead of making it our problem.”

“Oh you’re going to blame me?” Eris was on his feet. “By the gods. I’m always your scapegoat because it’s easy to blame me than for you to look in a fucking mirror.”

“Eris.” A warning, as shadows built around him. 

“Am I wrong?” Azriel didn’t answer. Eris and his sharp tongue kept going. “You blamed me for centuries when it came to Mor. To this court. To my father. Let’s just add this to it.” He paused. Before he could stop himself he added. “It wouldn’t even be a fucking issue if it was just us.” 

Eris felt the shock through the bond from Az before he shut him out. Even the shadows recoiled from around Az.

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t have to repeat myself. We work well together,” he gestured between them, “because we know what to expect from each other. She wants so much more than either of us are capable of.”

Shadows shrunk back again. “That’s not true.”

“It is!” Then words spewed from his mouth like viper venom. “I wish Elain never told us. I wish I never let you get your fucking hopes up, looking for a third bond in every fucking fae you brought to our bed. But I love you, so I let you do it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Azriel was on his own feet, siphons on his hands flashing. “I always got your consent, you said it was fine. You brought your own-”

Eris’s mouth ran away from him again. He didn’t raise his voice; his tone did the work for him. 

“Maybe I lied. I only took other lovers so you wouldn’t feel guilty. I was just trying to make you happy because I was never enough for you. Even the Mother herself knew. She knew I wasn’t enough for you so she sent us her.” 

Az looked like he’d been struck. Guilt and insecurity Eris had buried for decades laid out on full display. At that moment Eris hoped Azriel hurt just as much as he did. The silence between them was heavy and loud. It was finally Azriel who spoke, his own words sharp and stinging. 

“I never asked to be mated to you. You say this is easier for me and you, but it’s only easy for you. What’s easy is loving her. It’s not my fault you’re too fucked up to know that too.” 

Shadows grew thick around him and he winnowed out of the room. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You showered and changed into a soft seafoam colored nightgown, given to you by Samira. She was sitting by a small side table reading when you came back into the bedroom. She set her book down and got up from her seat. 

“Did you tell him, Tarquin?” You asked. 

In your haste to get away, you didn’t think about the implications of your actions. Namely as High Lord’s mate seeking refuge in another court. You liked Tarquin a lot. He was kind and you were so happy when Samira and him hit it off. But he was still a High Lord of another court. Samira didn’t look you in the eyes from where she had sat on the edge of the bed. 

“I only told him what you told me.”

“That’s fine,” you said quickly. You got onto the bed and crawled up beside her. “I understand. If you hadn’t told him, I would have.”

“That said,” she put her hand over yours. “You’re here as my guest. Any correspondence will come directly to me unless there is a threat to the court.” 

You winced and she gave you a sympathetic look. Your mates were both known for their tempers. Azriel was well known for his impulsive behavior. You prayed to the Mother that neither of them acted irrationally. A hard thing to hope knowing you sealed this room the moment you entered. 

“Did you want some tea or do you want to rest for the night?” 

“Tea. I need to talk if you’re willing to listen.”

“Always,” she smiled. 

You grabbed a light robe and moved into the small sitting room. She waited as Samira had tea brought to the room. She fixed you a cup, and then she sat down and took her own in her hands. 

“So what happened?”

You let out a heavy sigh, trying to figure out where to start. 

You explained the best you could. How they both made a promise to go to dinner and neither showed. You explained how distant they’d been for months. You explained how Eris told you that dinner wasn’t as important as whatever he was working on with the upcoming summit. 

“He said I knew what I was getting into when we mated. As if I’m not managing his court while his nose is stuck in itinerary lists.” You added bitterly. 

She winced. “And Azriel? What did he say about all this?” 

“He said he was sorry. He lost track of time. Conveniently he was silent when I asked why his shadows didn’t remind him.” You stared down at the tea in your hand. You could feel your eyes water again. “He hasn’t- he has always been more physically affectionate than Eris. Out in public, at least. But he hasn’t even-“

You stopped yourself, your face burning. Samira didn’t need to know how Az hadn’t even called you by a specific pet name in weeks. Eris even longer. And how was you supposed to explain they even stopped just casually touching you? It was childish, to be upset about something so silly. Yet thinking about it just made you cry again. 

You wiped your eyes. “It just feels as if  they don’t want me anymore.”

“They're your mates, of course they want you.”

“Mates doesn’t always mean love, Samira. They did just fine without me for what? Two decades? Maybe longer. Maybe they miss it just being the two of them.” 

“Now you’re talking nonsense. Stop it,” she gave you a pointed look. 

“What if it’s the truth?” You were so sick of crying. You sniffled and wiped your eyes. “They know each other so well. What do they need me for?” 

They didn’t.

That was your whole issue. They didn’t need you. Eris and Az could practically communicate without words. They moved around each other seamlessly. Eris knew exactly how Az liked his tea. Az knew to move papers closer to the inside of the desk when Eris was on a rant, his hands moving about as he talked. Eris knew when to make the spare room without even asking Azriel if he needed it. You tried to watch, to listen. Five years and you still weren’t in tune with them. 

Samira shuffled in her seat, drawing your attention back to her. 

“Eris wrote a letter to Tarquin. I got it while you were bathing. It wasn’t much, just him requesting to know if you were here and if so, that you get this.” She held up an envelope with his seal on it. “I wrote back that I would handle communication and you’d be staying the night.” 

She laid the letter on the table in front of you. Your chest ached, begging you to open it immediately. You shoved it down. 

Samira added, “I informed him that if you want to stay longer, I can’t make you leave. Tarquin has already agreed to allow you to stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you,” you whispered and stared back down at your tea again. 

“Sleep on it. You can have breakfast with us and decide what you want to do in the morning.”

You nodded. Sleep sounded nice now that the adrenaline of the evening had crashed. You drained the rest of your tea and bid Samira good night. You left the letter on the table. You’d read it in the morning. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Eris poured himself the stiffest drink he’d had in decades. The shame and embarrassment of everything was still burning in his chest. He downed his drink in one swing and poured another. Both his mates were gone. He walked over to his desk where the correspondence with summer sat. Your friend had written back instead of Tarquin. He downed his second drink. 

To make things less complicated, I will be handling correspondence until this is resolved. Unless there is a threat to the court, I will not involve the high lord. I promise I will give her your letter in the morning. She was distraught when she arrived and I’ve just gotten her calmed. She’s currently bathing and I will get her some tea to help her sleep. 

There was a break in the letter and she added. 

She has yet to tell me what happened fully, but as her friend I am warning you both that you two better make this right. I will try to convince her to return in the morning, but she is a grown female. If she requests to stay, Tarquin has already told me she may. 

Eris tossed the letter back onto the desk. He doubted once you found out Az left too that you’d come home. It’s what he deserved. 

He was a fool to think he could do this- have two mates. To think he could be any better than his father. Three years mated to you and he still couldn’t control himself. Couldn’t toe the line between work and leisure. Fifteen mated to Az and he still spewed venom in his direction the moment he was cornered. And Eris finally got a taste of his own medicine when Azriel spewed it right back. 

With a heavy sigh, Eris pulled out more parchment and ink. There would not be a high lord summit- not with all of this happening. He’d draft the letters and send them in the morning. If he could sleep at all, with no one sharing his bed. He went and made a third drink. He opened his bonds and see if you or Az would respond. 

Still shut out. The urge to down that third drink was strong. He needed to be sober in the morning even if he didn’t want to be. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Azriel flew until his emotions settled. Eris’s foul words rung in his ears still. ‘I wish Elain never told us’ he’d said. ‘Even the mother herself knew I wasn’t enough for you so she sent her.’ 

His eyes watered and it wasn’t from the wind in them. There was an ache in his chest- both bonds were shut out. He and Eris fought plenty, before and after they reconciled and the bond snapped. Somehow this was still the worst. He ignored his own words that spewed like venom in response to what Eris had said. 

Azriel was angry and hurt. He left- if he stayed any longer the whole Forest House may have been burned to the ground. He circled the border between Autumn and Winter. He couldn't go back, not tonight. He landed in a clearing, stretching out his wings before tucking them back in. He didn’t want to go to Valeris. He had one other option. His shadows seemed to agree, as they circled him and he winnowed. 

He landed outside the wards of Rosehall. The fae lights shown through the window. 

She is awake. a shadow whispered. 

He thought about turning back. He didn’t want to disturb his mother, to bother her with his problems. Yet his feet carried him forward, the wards rippling around him. He tucked his wings in tight and walked to the door. He didn‘t have to knock; the wards were designed to let only few in and to notify her when someone arrived. He could hear the rush of footsteps inside and braced himself as the door opened. 

“Azriel?” His mother answered the door, a navy shawl you made for her wrapped tight around her shoulders, sides shaped to accommodate her wings. “What has happened?”

”I had a fight with my mates.” He said quickly. “They’re fine; I just- I couldn’t stay.”

His mother brushed back loose hair to tuck it behind her ear. He realized her hair was half braided. She nodded, and stepped aside to let him in. 

“I’m sorry, I can go.”

”Nonsense, come in. I just made tea.”

His shadows swirled past him, one or two weaving around his mother. They always loved her; probably more than him if he was honest. He stepped through the frame and looked around. He had visited two weeks ago and already things had changed. His heart skipped, looking into the sitting room. Feyre had taken to decorating his mother’s house with portraits and paintings. The one above the fireplace was of him and his mother. It was a new one on the wall to the left that wasn’t there two weeks ago that made him stop in his tracks. It was of his mother, himself, you, and Eris. From your mating ceremony, based on the clothing and how close together you all were. 

“The High Lady spoils me,” his mother said from his right. “Says my house is too empty. You should see the garden painting she had mounted in the hall a few days ago. Come.” 

He felt her hand grab his own. He could only grip back loosely. He didn’t realize how cold his fingers had gotten from flying. If she noticed, she didn’t say. She led him to the kitchen where a kettle sat on the stove. He sat at the small table and watched almost numbly while she gathered cups and poured the tea. 

“Zemër, tell me what happened.” 

Az looked down at the cup as she sat it in front of him. He wrapped his hands around it, letting the warmth ease the stiffness in his hands. If he was home, Eris would do it for him. He pushed that thought away. He took a few sips, relishing in how the warmth flowed through his chest. His mother waited patiently across from him, braiding the rest of her hair for bed. 

“I said some things I shouldn’t have.” His shadows nudged him on the shoulder. “I made a promise and didn’t keep it.” She hummed and tied off her hair. His voice cracked a little when he added. “I don’t know if I can fix it.” 

There was a beat of silence and his mother took a sip of her tea. “Why do you think such a thing?” 

“Because she left!” He snapped. His mother flinched and shadows hissed at him for raising his voice. “I’m sorry. She left and he- we’ve been so busy and she asked for one dinner and neither of us went. Then she left. And Eris said things. So I said things back.”  

He hated that hot tears fell down his cheeks. And that his mother was looking at him with pity. She reached over and took his hand, holding it tightly in her own. 

“Words are painful weapons and you are the best warrior in all prythian.” That made Azriel snort and she smiled softly. “This is a fight. Not a war. You haven’t lost yet. They are your mates. You love them. If you haven’t given up your love for them, what makes you think they have so easily given up their love for you?” 

She had him there. He gave her hand a squeeze, a gesture of thanks. Then a shadow swirled up his arm quickly. 

We must go. He furrowed his brows. He walks to our balcony. We must stop him. We must go. Go. 

“Shit.” Azriel winced at himself. He hated cursing in front of his mother. “Mama, I have to go. Thank you. For the tea.” 

She watched him stand, not letting go of his hand. “Be careful, my love.” 

Despite the tugging of the shadows he gave his mother a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll see you in two weeks. I promise.” 

She nodded and he winnowed away. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

At some point, Eris wasn’t sure when; he grabbed the whole bottle instead of pouring himself a glass. He couldn’t sleep. Not alone, with his thoughts and past memories hovering around the edges of the bed. They we’re waiting in the dark to grip him when he was most vulnerable. So instead he drank. Drank to numb the emptiness like he used to in the days before. 

One minute he was in his chambers and the next he was stumbling up stairs. There were several balconies in the forest house but there was only one nearest to the roof. He built it for Azriel. It had no railings, just a place for him to take off when he went flying. Az swore he didn’t need it; but he still used it. In Eris’s mind, Az would use the balcony when he came back home.

Because he had to come home. You both had to come home. Eris didn’t think he could bear it if you didn’t. It took him a moment when he reached the door to focus enough to grab the handle. Gods, he hadn’t been this drunk since his youth. Pushing into the room, it was bare- save the single old couch, rug, and unlit fireplace. His gaze fixated on the double glass doors that led to the balcony. If he could just get out there, he could wait. 

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Eris nearly fell over, balance upended by Az’s voice behind him. He grabbed Eris by his shirt to pull him steady. Shadows that had been absent swirled in his vision, grazing his hair and neck as if checking him over. It took a moment for the world to stop spinning and his focus fixated on the male before him. 

“You came back,” Eris whispered. 

“Of course I did.” Azriel’s nose crinkled at Eris’ breath. “You're drunk.”

“Can’t sleep.” He felt his eyes water. He reached for Azriel’s shoulder but Az held him in place. “I’m sorry. I'm so sorry.” 

“Look at me,” Az’s hands were cold as they cradled Eris’ face, forcing him to look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry too.”

“Your hands are cold.” He muttered, his own reaching up to cover them. He wasn’t sober enough to focus his magic like he wanted to. 

“They are.” Az gave him a soft smile. “I’ll live.” 

Eris frowned. “Why did you come back?” 

To Azriel’s credit, he didn’t seem shocked at the question. 

“I came back because I love you.” And Azriel meant it. 

“But you said-“

“I said it’s not easy.” He paused for a moment. “It’s not easy but I choose you. I will always choose you. Because I love you.”

There was silence between them for a moment. 

“She’s not coming back.” 

Az grimaced. “Eris, it’s late. She’s safe in Summer and probably sleeping. Like we both should be.”

“But I need her here.” Eris could hardly bear it. He needed you back. He needed to apologize. “Can’t we go get her?” 

“So you want to start a war with Summer?” Az’s face was serious but there was a tilt in his voice. 

“You’re laughing at me.” Eris replied solemnly. 

“You’re drunk. It’s hard not to.” He sighed, his wings slumping and shadows buzzing about them. “Let’s go to bed and sleep this off.” 

Eris was silent but seemed to concede. Az guided him out the room and back to their chambers. He would have winnowed if Eris hadn’t been so inebriated. He really didn’t feel like cleaning up vomit. 

“You’re too good to me,” Eris muttered as they made their way down the hall. 

Az tightened his arm around him. “I could argue the same.”  

More silence passed. “Do you think she’ll come back?” 

Azriel didn’t reply. He could only hope. His shadows whispered as much as he helped Eris undress in their chamber and get him to bed. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In Summer, you tossed and turned. The air was too warm even with the cool magical breeze that floated through the open windows. The bed was too small. Too empty. You finally cast a spell on your blanket and pillows, making them colder. How funny you’d gotten used to Autumn's colder climate.

The spell worked too well. You were suddenly too cold, too cold without Eris and Az’s body heat to keep you warm. Tears fell on your pillow. They were probably sleeping fine without you. Your mind went to the letter you left in the other room. You were too afraid to open it. They probably only wanted you home until after the High Lords’ meeting. Or maybe they never wanted you to come back. You pulled the blanket tight around yourself. Whatever the letter said could wait until morning. 

You sighed and tried to go to sleep. 

Part 3

[quinnysnursery]

could you write something with reader and cg!Matt where she has accidentally hurt herself (broken bone or something) and it triggers her (abusive household filled with times she has broken bones in the past) to regress to an age of around 2 or 3 and she's terrified to regress while at the hospital and then eventually she's still regressed while Matt takes her home and then maybe its just super fluffy and cute and with lots of physical touch and nicknames?

[🩹] sticks and stones can break my bones, but you would never hurt me | matt sturniolo one-shot

paring : cg!matt sturniolo x fem!little!reader

summary : an unfortunate incident leaves you and your caregiver struggling with the ghosts of your past

warning/extra tid-bits : ANGST FOLLOWED BY FLUFF, injuries, blood, stitches, talk of abusive/neglectful childhood, hospital trips, matt and y/n are dating outside of regression- this does not make age regression nsfw, ptsd, i think that's all!! plz let me know if there is anymore!!

word count : 1,979 + not proofread

divider credit : umm i found all the photos on pinterest :3 (line from @mikeykuns)

a/n : kinda strayed from the request just a bit but i hope you still enjoy it :)

Matt cursed under his breath as he slammed his foot on the gas- much too full of adrenaline to care about traffic laws. 

Your cries and sniffles echoed throughout the car, your shoulders racking as you attempted to muffle your cries.

He’d been preoccupied on something that, in hindsight, was not important at all. Blissfully unaware of his little’s attempt to cut an apple in the kitchen. He felt absolutely terrible- like he was the scum of all caregivers. 

Beside him in the passenger seat, you were trying to focus on keeping the dish cloth wrapped tightly around your bleeding hand. Your caregiver was talking, but you couldn’t hear him- flashbacks of your childhood had already wrapped around your brain, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything else.

Your childhood was far from a happy one; filled with constant yelling, crying and on occasion, injuries. 

It wasn’t rare that your younger self got into something you shouldn’t- whether that be by climbing a tree to escape your screaming parents or accidentally burning yourself while attempting to make dinner for you and your younger siblings.

It was safe to say you’d had your fair share of hospital visits in your youth. It’d been years since you had to be driven to the emergency room, it wasn’t really something you, or anyone, enjoyed.

Now though, you were sitting in the passenger seat of Matt’s van with a blood-stained dishcloth wrapped tightly around your hand. You’d asked Matt to slice up an apple, but he’d responded with a simple “in a moment.”

To anybody else, it would’ve been easy to wait but you had been regressed in the moment and it was not easy to wait. Nor did your regressed-self believe it would be a “moment”. Your parents had always said they’d cook dinner, “in a moment”- only to fall asleep and leave you and your siblings hungry.

The injury occurred when you, in the haze of littlespace, had decided you could slice your own apple. The pulsing pain in your hand tauntingly reminded you that you could not.

God, you were such an idiot. You knew Matt was better than your parents, that’s the whole reason you entrusted him with the responsibility of being your caregiver. If you had just listened, you wouldn’t be in this position right now. 

You still couldn’t process what Matt was saying, but in the midst of trauma-response plagued thoughts; you spoke. 

“I’m sorry, I…I don’t even know what I was thinking.” You stammered, voice hoarse from crying. Matt furrowed his brows as he exited the freeway, turning to face you for a split second.

“What?” He asked, baffled at the fact you were sorry. He was sorry! He was the one who’d neglected his responsibilities as a caregiver for some stupid social media thing.

“I’m sorry. I…I know it was…it was a stupid thing to do.” You admitted, fresh hot tears burning your eyes- the sensory only adds to the stinging pain from the injury on your hand. 

Matt couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He hadn’t just met you yesterday, of course he knew of your past and the habits you still carried from your trauma- but it had been months since you apologized for something that was so blatantly not your fault.

“Sweetheart, I’m not mad.” Matt said, his words continuing to fall on deaf ears. 

The brunette man didn’t have much time to continue to reassure you, as he’d just pulled into the nearest parking spot he could in front of the emergency room.

Matt jumped out of the van, rushing over to your side door and helping you out. His heart broke at how lifeless you appeared. There were no small smiles, no commenting on the flowers planted outside the emergency room- nothing.

Just you, shuffling beside Matt trying to make yourself as quiet as possible.

It broke him that he’d caused this for you. If he’d simply held off on trying to find photos for Nick’s stupid photo dump, you’d be happily at home munching away on your apple slices.

“Sir?” The receptionist asked, snapping Matt out of his self-pitying thoughts. “She uhm- she…she needs stitches.” Matt explained, motioning to the dish towel he’d panicky-wrapped around your hand before rushing you into the car.

The receptionist nodded diligently, asking for your name and Matt’s relation to you. 

“Y/n L/n…and he’s my boyfriend.” You spoke up, earning another nod. Matt anxiously looked around, adrenaline still pumping through his veins.

“You two can follow Nurse Buckley to an exam room,” The receptionist pointed to a female nurse dressed in sage-green scrubs, smiling toothily at the couple.

“C’mon sweetheart, we’ll get you stitched up in no time.” Nurse Buckley promised, leading you two to a secluded exam room- Matt helped you onto the uncomfortable bed, you mumbled out a “thanks”.

You weren’t mad at him, not at all. It had been your own stupid decision to attempt welding a knife while regressed, not Matt’s. You didn’t really understand why you felt so…small.

Not in the regression way though, you wouldn’t dare regress in a hospital- terrified of what your little-self would think. 

You felt small in a completely different sense, like your words carried little weight on the world. Despite Nurse Buckley and Matt being in the room with you, you felt shunned away from everyone.

It was then that it dawned on you, you’d triggered some sort of PTSD haze. A trauma response.

Sadly, the realization didn’t fix it- it only made you feel deeper shame. 

“Y/n?” Nurse Buckley called out, grasping your attention. “D’you feel okay hun? You don’t appear to have lost too much blood but if you feel dizzy-” 

You shook your head, “I don’t like hospitals.” You told the nurse, earning an understanding nod. “I understand.” Nurse Buckley looked towards Matt before meeting your eyes once again, “If you want your boyfriend to sit with you on the bed, I won’t tell.” She smiled cheekily.

You flashed her a small inauthentic smile. Matt noticed- the nurse didn’t.

“I’ll be right back, need to grab gloves.” Nurse Buckley told Matt, who nodded.

After the nurse left the room, Matt went straight back to apologizing.

“Hey…baby, look at me.” Matt cooed, carefully sitting in front of you on the stiff hospital bed. Your eyes shot up to meet Matt’s, you hated that.

That wasn’t how you behaved around Matt. With Matt you were playful and softhearted- right now, your stupid brain was forcing you to act like a scared child.

“Can you take a breath for me? You’re shaking.” The brunette boy’s voice was soft as silk as he brushed his fingertips against your tear-stained cheek. Those words broke the dam. 

Your face wrinkled up as you began crying once more, painful memories playing on repeat in the back of your mind. 

Matt’s heart broke for you, “Oh sweetheart…can I hug you?” He asked, you nodded quickly- wanting nothing more than for this awful haze to go away. As soon as permission was given, Matt’s arms wrapped around you tightly- careful to avoid your injured hand.

Your caregiver shushed you, rubbing soothing circles into your back. “I know, this must be so scary for you- right?” Matt cooed, you nodded into his neck. 

The fact your brain had decided to cope with a scary-situation in an unhealthy way combined with Matt’s soothing touch and voice, you felt a familiar safe, fuzzy, headspace lingering near. 

No.

You couldn’t regress. Not in a hospital. Maybe you would consider it if your littlespace wasn’t as young as it was- but sadly, that wasn’t the case.

Matt had been your caregiver for the better half of a year and in that year, he’d come to recognize the signs of an upcoming regression. The way you melted into a hug like a small child would, how you hid your face deeper into the crook of his neck- trying to bury yourself into his skin. 

“Feelin’ tiny?” Matt asked, lowering his already soft voice. You shook your head, trying to convince yourself that you weren’t. Matt frowned, pulling away from the hug and gently lifting your chin to make your eyes meet his.

“Sweetheart…what’s goin’ on? It’s okay to be tiny, I’ll keep you safe.” Your carer cooed, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your cheek. You whined, feeling the fuzziness grow over your mind more. 

“Alright! Let’s get you sewn up and on your way!” Nurse Buckley’s words washed a whole new wave of anxiety over you.

The stitches were not a fun experience. Even if Nurse Buckley had given you a local anesthetic, just the thought of a needle going in and out your skin was enough to make you bury your face into Matt’s sweater. 

Now though, you were both home with strict instructions to “take it easy”. 

And take it easy you would, because you were currently sitting atop the couch- various fluffy blankets surrounding you as Gravity Falls played on the television. 

You smiled gently- feeling much better than you had earlier- as Matt came back to the living room, a small pink bowl full of apple slices. Your heart warmed as the sight, eyes watering with love.

“Hey…what’s going on?” Matt asked, quickly setting the small bowl onto the coffee table and crouching in front of you. You shook your head, wiping your eyes with your uninjured hand. Matt frowned softly, still feeling guilty from the incidents that took place earlier in the day.

“Do you not want apples anymore? I…I can get you something else? Or, order something?” Matt offered frantically, causing you to shake your head once again. “No…Matt this is…you’re so sweet.” Your voice broke as you launch yourself into your carer’s arms, wrapping your arms around him tightly.

Matt sat in shock for a moment before latching onto you, pressing gentle kisses to the top of your head. 

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve cut up the apple when you asked.” Matt said, ashamed of his actions. You furrow your brows, pulling away from the hug- “What? No, I’m sorry. It…it was a stupid decision.” You said, ashamed of your actions.

Matt’s brows mimicked yours, knitting together in confusion. “No. I’m…I’m your caregiver, I’m supposed to look after you and I failed that. I’m sorry.” Matt explained firmly.

You smiled at your caregiver, feeling the scared little girl inside of you heal.

Matt pulled you back into a hug, running a reassuring hand up and down your back. You felt the familiar fuzzy feeling from earlier return, but this time- you were more than happy to welcome it, especially after this stressful day.

Matt realized this instantly, his smile growing. “C’mon sweet girl, I think this show is too big for you.” The brunette cooed, grabbing the remote off of the coffee table and finding a much more age appropriate cartoon for you. 

You hummed excitedly, resting against your caregiver’s chest- eyes heavy with sleep. 

Matt hummed along to the theme-song of the cartoon, earning soft giggles from you. The two of you sat tangled together, a pile of fluffy blankets keeping both of you cozy, warm and safe.

You whined softly, rubbing your tired eyes with a balled fist. Matt cooed softly, pressing gentle kisses to the top of your head- pulling you closer. 

“How’s your hand feeling?” Matt asked, earning a soft shrug from you. You lifted up your hand, pout on your lips.

“Dada ‘ss it.” You murmured, giving your caregiver your award-winning puppy dog eyes. Matt’s lips curled upwards at your words, pressing a gentle kiss to your hand- hoping his caregiver-magic would help the wound heal faster.

“I’m really sorry sweet girl,” Matt apologized for a final time. You thought for a moment before snuggling further into Matt’s chest, “...’s okay. Still’da best dada ever.” You smiled.

taglist !! :

@mattssturnz @littlestar44 @graceslittlecorner @zivall

@hrtz4alex2211 @bimbob1tch @sturnsxplr-25 @cherry-red-heart

@pr3ttyf4wn @frlinbruh @jazminepetit-homme @raynaaxx

@tyummyz @starri-nightss @cyberskulzzz @nicksbestie

@urfavbestiee @nicksloverrr @babybatxxx @ivysturnss

@natedoeswife @blahbel668 @nicksloverrr @flow3rsturns13

@pkfferoo @pixxiies @mattsturnswhore @17welch17 @pinksikhewei

@v33angel @conspiracy-ash @hoes4matthew @elislytherpuffsturn

@mattsturnsgirlie

[xtarmanderx]

I don’t ever post things like this here because this is primarily my writing side blog, but it feels too important not to say something.

I started writing 9-1-1 fics for the Buddie fandom and for a friend who was near and dear to me. I quickly left the fandom because of the mods for an event that I was participating in and how awful they were to one of my best friends that joined the event with me. That completely killed my desire to interact with the Buddie fandom at all and I don’t know if I will ever finish posting the fic that I poured my heart into for said event. Because that fic is fully done, but those encounters with those fans made me never want to write Buddie again.

And then Tommy Kinard came along.

And holy fuck, I fell in love with him so fast. I immediately rewatched the show after he reappeared in season 7 because I was so fascinated with his character. And then I fell in love with Lou Ferrigno Jr. and began watching S.W.A.T. just to get glimpses of him and I grew to love that show and its characters, too. And I read his interviews and saw how happy he was to be back on the show and it made me happy, too.

Then I saw all the hate and negativity.

It filled me with so much anger and I blocked so many people across so many different forms of social media so I no longer had to see it. All I wanted was to surround myself with positivity.

Because I’ve been that bitch.

There are people no longer in certain fandoms because of me and I’ll never be able to apologize enough for the ways that I hurt them. Sorry will never be enough to mend those bridges that I poured kerosene on.

It’s why I’ve stayed in my corner and all of my fic comments have been generic, which isn’t who I used to be. I used to engage and leave long comments, but honestly I’ve been terrified to try and join any new community. Because I am fucking terrified of reverting back to the person I never want to be again.

My best friend started watching the show again after I went to his house for dinner and had him watch the BuckTommy kiss episode with me. The last five minutes of that episode, I told him to put his phone down and pay full attention and he was completely engaged and was so happy to see another queer couple onscreen. It gave us something else to bond over every week as we would watch and text about what was happening.

Tonight’s text:

This coming from a gay man who does not engage in fandom spaces at all and who felt blindsided, too. Like so many of us did.

I immediately started writing a fix it fic because that’s who I am. I want to write the endings I want to see. And then I stopped writing and sent Lou a message directly because I needed to get something off my chest.

I was raised in a broken home. Raised by racists who belittled me endlessly and have told me within the last couple of years that I am their least favorite child. I am the youngest of 6. That shit was heartbreaking. It’s a wound that will never heal. But why am I bringing it up? Why does that matter?

Because I saw myself in Tommy. I saw a character who represented the worst parts of my youth, who spouted hateful things my parents taught me to say and then spent years having to unlearn those things. Lou talked about his own ideas about Tommy’s past and it struck so close to home for me. Because Tommy showed he was capable of change. And I did, too. It took therapy and years of reflection and being hyperaware now of the shit I say and having to constantly stay on top of my own thoughts and correct them.

I have been dating a woman of color for the last 9.5 years and she’s the love of my life. She has been there through every stumble and stayed even when my passive aggressive inclinations got the better of me. And I saw so much of myself reflected in Tommy Kinard’s character and Lou’s portrayal of him and saw our relationship in Buck and Tommy, too.

Tonight hit me so much harder than expected. And this probably seems like a jumbled mess of thoughts, which it is, but I needed to get some things off my chest and out into the world.

This is not the week that so many of us were expecting. This hurt. We’re allowed to be upset and need time to process. I sure as hell do.

But I do want to say a heartfelt thank you to anyone who has brought joy and friendship to this fandom. The fics that have been written are amazing and the art has been fantastic. I’ve seen some people make lifelong friends in the past few months thanks to this. It sure as hell strengthened some of mine.

So, if you need a friend right now, know that I’m here. I’ve been subdued for a while, but I refuse to lose out on more joy in my life. Not when we all desperately need it. So I’m here for you.

And please remember to be kind. Don’t let anyone take that superpower away from you.

[lightlycareless]

Another oneshot (?) we've been all waiting for. The sequel to this piece over here :> Ah, you don't know how long I've been waiting for this. I hope you enjoy it!!!

Warnings: mentions of unaliving you. (explained in the first part) Naoya is insecure about himself, but loves you greatly. mentions of pregnancy. yep, you're pregnant and happily married :) slight mentions of nsfw activities. minimal proofreading I think?

Happy reading!!

Why did it have to be him?

Of all people that could’ve been chosen from to follow through with this lead, of all willing candidates who were more than ready to seize the glory the completion of this mission would provide…

Why did they choose him?

Was it because he was the one that discovered said lead? Or how deep it actually ran? Just enough to affect not only his fellow sorcerers, but civilians as well?

It sounded like an excuse, not even a good one at that, to keep him promptly occupied and away from his true, and only priority; the reason why he started this sting operation in the first place.

Yet, as much as he wanted to escape, he remained behind because there was some truth to be found behind their words: no one else knew the gravity of the situation better than him. There was no other that experienced so closely what it was to almost lose someone dear to him, and such, the importance to put an end to all of this.

Working every single day and night, Naoya was eventually able to catch the head of this whole mafia and bring them to justice—only then, was he able to return home to you, his pregnant and inconsolable wife which could barely express her feelings outside of a tight hug, fearing he’ll disappear if she let’s go, and quiet sobs, wishing he’d never leave again.

“Naoya” you breathe, taking in his scent, his warmth, his everything you’ve been cruelly deprived of for months. “Naoya, ple—please, don’t leave me again…”

“I won’t—” And your husband was eager to promise you so, having long decided that missions are temporarily suspended until he decides otherwise—

But the moment his arms embrace you back, the first time in what felt like eons for him… he’s welcomed by a horrifying revelation, a sensation he perhaps wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t disappeared.

Your stomach was bigger, more prominent; he had to stretch his arms a little more in order to completely fit you—

Undermining the length of his absence, earnestly reassuring himself on his way back that he hadn’t been away from you for long, that he hadn’t missed much of your kisses or giggles… or his child’s growth.

But obviously, he had. It was plain to see.

And he had missed all of it because of that stupid mission that didn’t even pay him that well...

Naoya began to distance himself from you soon after.

You didn’t think much of it at first, naively believing he was just… trying to readjust back into his previous home life, break away from being constantly on his toes and simply relax. It was only a matter of time before Naoya returned to the same loving, albeit teasing, husband you knew and loved!

God knows you went through the same thing when returning to the Zen’in estate, which you never believed would happen considering how everything transpired after your supposed allergy.

In fact, everything about it was… confusing, for a lack of better wording. From the swiftness in which you were transferred to your clan’s home, to how you were received back by an entirely different staff…

A part of you swore it wasn’t a simple allergy—

Nonetheless, you trusted Naoya, knew how he was too. Prone to overreacting at the smallest mention of danger, a side of him that only worsened upon learning of your pregnancy.

In these matters, sometimes silence was the best path to take. More so if it meant a happy marriage, a happier life, in return.

At least that’s what you wished to believe, because no amount of compromise seemed to put things back in place, not even after days of his return, nor how much you desired it to.

Something just… didn’t sit right with him. The short answers, his quick glances, to even keeping distance between the two when sharing the same bed…!

There was something undeniably wrong with your husband, but you were not to give up anytime soon. Even when these little things began to chip away at your poor dismayed heart, you still found it in yourself to give him the benefit of the doubt.

«He just needs a little push» you conclude. «A reminder of what he missed, and he’ll be back on track»

And thankfully, you knew exactly what to do.

With a light robe that left nothing to the imagination, you’d wait for him in your shared chambers, patiently sitting by the futon to when he eventually crosses the door, eyes wide as Naoya took in your form, breath hitching to his throat the moment the garment fell to your sides, enough provocation for him to move closer, finally within your hands grasp.

“Naoya.” You softly cooed, fingers carefully tracing the edges of his hakama, which you soon began to undo. “My love.”

He’s always found it amusing how easily he succumbed to your charms: just two words while batting your eyes and he was putty in your hands.

“I missed you.” You cooed, pouring honey into his ears as you continued to undress him; Naoya did nothing to stop his robes from falling beside him—too entranced to care about anything else but you, and the heat settling underneath your touch. “You don’t know how lonely I’ve been without you…”

You’d then place a trail of kisses, beginning from his ear down to his cheek and then, his lips, where he’d cautiously return the gestures, almost as if he were afraid of hurting you.

But as much as you wished he’d be a bit more assertive; you do not press him—if anything, his reaction makes your heart tighten, urging you to spoil him even further, which you do by softly intertwining your hands with his, pulling them up to your sensitive breasts and resting them there.

“Without your touch… without your warmth” You murmur, gently squeezing him against you before sliding his hands down your sides… “No matter how much I tried… nothing compares to you.”

Onto your rounded stomach, to the soft skin protecting his unborn child—a son or daughter made from your overflowing love, fated to represent such union by either resembling their father or you; Naoya secretly hopes they take after you, both physically and in personality.

And you… well, a little prince that looked just like your husband simply made the wait unbearable.

But regardless of the outcome, both knew they’d love them either way.

“Please.” You breathe against his lips, palm gently rubbing against his growing desire. “I need you.”

But even your longing couldn’t contend against Naoya’s uncertainty, for the moment his fingers graced your belly, he was sourly reminded of the revelation that has haunted him since his return, fated to haunt you too when he immediately retracted.

And way he looked at you, at your child, almost as if he were frightened, if not disgusted… is one that permanently imprints on the back of your mind; destroying any last hope you had for this sweet moment, and subsequently, your heart with the following questioning.

“Did I… Did I do something?” you quietly ponder, hands trembling as you struggled whether to keep looking at Naoya, or glance away. You didn’t know anymore…

Only that it hurt.

“No, it’s… it’s not you.” He responds, probably the largest sentence you’ve gotten out of him since his return; and the answer that made your assumptions worsen.

“Then is—is it—is it the baby?” you fret, feeling whatever remained of your heart break. “Do you—Do you not want the baby anymore?”

“What?” Naoya’s eyes widen, perplexed by the accusation. “What did you just say?”

It was outrageous, uncalled for considering all what he did and for who did it.

But to you, who was kept in the dark throughout the entirety of his absence, alongside his shockingly different behavior, your mind could only point you onto one direction:

In his time away, back on the field and for a long time just like he did before the two married… did he suddenly realize how restricting a baby would be on his life? On his career? Perhaps acknowledge that this is not something he was willing to sacrifice?

Or did he—

Did he conclude you were not the right person to share this experience with? Someone out there far more suitable than you?

Naoya didn’t need to read minds to know exactly what was going on through your thoughts, nor to be reminded of what he must to ensure your happiness, which he had selfishly stripped you away from—once again…

“I would put down my life just to keep you and our child safe.” Naoya says, moving to take your hands with his as a gesture to put all this behind, but when you flinch away in return, he’s given a taste of what you’ve silently endured since his return. “Y/N—”

“Your—your words don’t go with what you—with what you’ve done.” You quietly retort, struggling with the cluster of emotions his actions provided: from embarrassment, to sadness, ending in anger… and yet, you still loved him. “How can you say that when you’ve—when you’ve done nothing but reject me?”

Once again Naoya wishes to immediately refute your worries, but he knew well it would prove your claim, do the very same thing he swore to prevent.

Seems that all this time he spent trying to protect you was for naught, for he’d come straight home to hurt you instead.

“Have I… Have I become… undesirable to you, because of this?” Given the way he glanced away whenever coming near him, what else were you supposed to think?

“Y/N.” Naoya persists, cupping your face and forcing you to look at him—your eyes reflecting straight back at him how consistently stupid he had been with you.

Yes, the pain he felt for not being there with you through this very important time of their marriage is very valid—no one said otherwise.

But had he even considered how infinitely worse it had been for you? You were the one carrying his child, dealing with all that pertained to a pregnancy: hormones, pains, fears and insecurities… with the addition of just what you needed: his second thoughts.

Could anyone blame you for assuming such things?

“Wh—what?” you respond, frowning.

“I haven’t been truthful to you.” Naoya begins. “In fact, I don’t think I have been at all.”

“You think?” you accuse, he swallows.

“I know.” Naoya corrects. “I know I haven’t been honest with anything. From my absence to my behavior towards you, the least you deserve is the truth.”

“…Is there someone else?” you quickly interrupt. “Just tell me if—”

“No, never. I love you too much to ever look at someone else and you know that.”

You look away, afflicted to have even considered such a horrible thing, as if he hadn’t proved so countless times.

“Then… what is it?” you murmur. “What have I done to make you act this way?”

“Nothing.” He responds. “You didn’t do nothing at all.”

It was only the passage of time that earned you such reckless reaction, marking you responsible for something you had no influence over.

His baby was to continue grow inside you regardless of if he was there to see it or not. And in a way, he should be happy this was the way things were occurring: It meant that your pregnancy was a healthy one, the only thing he desired for you and the baby at the end of the day!

But he allowed his emotions to get the best of him and now, made you victim of his consequences.

He could see it in the way you didn’t believe his words, your eyes looking at him but void of the adoration and devotion you always blessed him with.

Naoya feels undoubtedly foolish. The only one undeserving here was him.

“You never had an allergy reaction. Not even close. The reason why I asked you to stay with your dad was because...” Naoya stops. “Was because there was an—an attempt on your life. Someone thought they’d be able to hurt you and walk away without consequences. I made sure he knew otherwise.

And… I kept it a secret because I thought it would be best for you. I thought that by doing so I’d be protecting you… but it seems I only ended up hurting you instead.

I wasn’t supposed to keep this long away from you either. But what I once thought a quick mission turned out to be a whole operation; and since I was the one who found out everything, I was also responsible to seeing the end of it.”

Naoya hopes that by explaining this you’d be able to… well, maybe not forgive him at the moment, but at least look at him with that glint in your eye that made his heart quicken every time. A step closer to his redemption…

And not be shocked by your following words!

“I already knew all that! But it still doesn’t explain why you’re acting this way with me.”

“You—you knew? How?” Naoya thought he ordered all those around you to keep this situation under complete secrecy, even threatened to retaliate if not.

But what surprised him the most wasn’t the breach of his trust, but rather… your knowledge and composure of the matter, as if you hadn’t been the target all along.

“My staff told me.” You confessed. More precisely, Haruko, whom at the sight of your disheartened façade at your husband’s prolonged absence just had to tell you the truth.

With Mariya’s subsequent scolding giving you enough leverage to ensure its veracity.

“They tend to be very attentive about all that happens around the estate, and if necessary, they also tell me about it.” You continue. “…But please don’t punish them because of this. They mean nothing but good for me.”

“I know, and I won’t do so.” Naoya promises, far more intrigued in knowing just how far their knowledge of their surroundings extended: if they were aware of all his surprises and told you about them, if your reactions to them had been planned too…

Or if your staff still gave him a chance, understanding how special these gestures were for the two and letting everything play out by itself.

Naoya knew your ladies were ones to be trusted even with your own life, which is why he moves on to worry about your seeming indifference to this scandalous revelation.

“And you weren’t… frightened when they told you?” He breathes, his heart tightening at notion of your anguish, how he wasn’t there to comfort you.

“I was, and for the longest time I didn’t want to eat anything even if it was handed to me by my most trusted…” you continue, those days are ones you still struggle to forget. “But… I guess that after a while, my worries eventually extended over to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, first because you are my husband and I always worry for you, and secondly, because you were out there dealing with the people that tried to harm us… and were close to succeeding.”

“Please don’t say that.” Naoya begs; the thought of you and his baby— he doesn’t even want to think about it.

“… I tried my best to know of your whereabouts, what you were truly doing, but since this was a secret to begin with, I could barely find anything.” You responded. “Or why you wanted to keep this hidden from me.”

“I wanted to protect you. I didn’t want to give you another scare that might hurt the baby...”

“I know.” You sigh. “Which is why I ultimately decided to not push the subject when you came back; believing that once you were here, with us, everything would go back to normal…”

“Except it didn’t.” Naoya concludes, you tearfully look away.

“I looked back on all the things that happened in hopes of finding an answer. To what I knew, what I’ve done, if maybe there was something I said over the phone that you didn’t like, but… nothing seemed to click for me. So, I guess that after all that happened alongside how lonely I felt, my mind simply assumed you’ve—”

“—found someone else.”

“…Have you?”

“No; you know I don’t entertain others since the moment I met you.” He repeats.

“Then why… this?”

Shall he tell you that the way he’s chosen to deal with his prolonged absence… was by continuously rejecting you? Keeping away from you and his unborn child, missing even more of the growth he swore to witness and protect?

If he wants a slap across the face, he ought to.

But even then, he’d much rather take your anger than the pain of you mistrusting him enough to believe he’d ever love anybody else that wasn’t you.

His heart was yours, from the very moment he set his eyes on you. Naoya swore so when marrying you—

No—since the moment he was born Naoya already knew he was destined to spend the rest of his life with you, and the next one, and the next one. He just needed to find you…

And make amends in this one if he planned to achieve that too.

“…Because when I saw you again, I thought everything would go right back to how it was. That I’d find you just how I left you, happy, well fed, and with that adorable belly of yours I couldn’t wait to see grow…

But once I held you in my arms… when I felt how big our child had truly grown, how much time I’d ended up spending away from you—

I couldn’t stand to be near you. I felt repulsed by myself, like I had failed you—”

Like I didn’t deserve you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I love you and our little mochi so, so much, I don’t know what came over me to hurt you.”

“I don’t like it when you keep secrets from me… I thought we agreed to never do that when we got married.”

“I know, I know.” He sighs, looking away. It was now your time to cup his face and return his heartbroken gaze to you. “I just wanted to protect you.”

“And you can do that… by our side.” You then grab his hands, carefully placing them over your stomach and caressing it. “…Please don’t leave us again, I don’t think my heart could take that again…”

“I won’t, I swear.” Naoya says. “I never want to leave your side ever again or miss our baby’s growth. I want to be there when she gives her first kick.”

“Why are you so adamant in believing our baby is a girl?” you giggle, he smiles.

“I don’t know, father’s intuition, I guess. Though it all started the moment I had that dream of her. Ever since, all I can see is a little girl that looks just like you running across the estate” He confesses, your breath hitches. “With your big, bright eyes and rosy chubby cheeks I cannot wait to pinch, demanding she’d be given taro mochi before dinner—and you naturally sneaking some for her, of course.”

“You dream of our baby?” you swoon.

“Every night.” Naoya admits, and the thought of your husband being so eager to welcome his baby that he dreams of her… it warms you up with unprecedented happiness.

“Don’t curse our daughter like that…” you pout, referencing how Naoya already plans to tease her. He laughs.

“Finally accepted the truth, huh? That she’s a girl?”

“You’re not off the hook yet—” but just when you were on way to refute him, a sudden shiver down your spine stops you, making Naoya quickly reach out for your robe and wrap you with it, placing a chaste kiss on the top of your head before hugging you.

Being so close to you after so long it made it physically impossible for him to stray away, especially with the tight way you hugged him back, finally giving him all the love itched to share—and taking in his warmth, his scent; the smell you missed oh so much, but was only able to enjoy through the covers on the bed or his clothes.

Neither wanted this moment to end.

“Are you still cold?” Naoya asks, gently rubbing your back.

“No, not anymore…” you whisper, leaning deeper into his chest before trembling once more. “Oh, well, a little bit.”

“Come on, let’s get you back on the futon.” He proposes. “Unless you still want to…”

You shake your head, for as endearing as that sounded, there was much to catch up to.

“I just want to be like this with you.” You add, looking up to him. “If… that’s ok with you.”

“Nothing would make me happier.”

Making haste, Naoya helps you down onto the bed with such tenderness you could only giggle at, reminding him that you were only pregnant, and subsequently, still capable of doing many things.

“No, we’re not doing that.” He says, firmly set on pampering you; let it be known that he greatly loved you and missed being with you like this.

And once you were comfortably set on the bed, underneath the warm cotton covers and safe within his arms, he rested his hands over your stomach, no longer flinching at it’s feeling and instead, relishing your scent —roses, his favorite—and what this felt like to him, what you always represented:

Home.

“Have you eaten well? After that, I mean.” He wonders; Naoya doesn’t doubt you have, between your family and staff, there was never a moment they would allow you to lack what you so much desired. Yet, he still wishes to know directly from you.

“Contrary from what this may seem, I’ve only gotten this big because of the baby, not because I’ve been eating that much…”

“I wasn’t implying anything.” He laughs, still caressing your stomach. “Though I have to admit that I find you quite adorable like this.”

You blush.

“You must’ve been huge as a baby.” You continue on, enjoying the warmth eradiating from his hand onto your growing belly. And something tells you your adorable baby does too.

“Me? What makes you think that? Could’ve been your side of the family.” Naoya snickers.

“Um, no it isn’t. I’ve seen pictures of me and my dad tells me I wasn’t this big. Besides, it’s not fair that I haven’t been able to find pictures of you when you were a baby to corroborate that.”

“Ah, so that’s what you’ve been doing all this time?” He asks, inwardly glad that Ranta had managed to hide them. Though after this he supposes he could give you a preview…

“Besides eating odd cravings…” you giggle, intertwining your fingers with his, admiring the sensation of his wedding band underneath your touch. “Like Cheetos and strawberry yogurt…”

“Don’t tell me you actually ate that.”

“Our baby wanted it, what was I supposed to do? Deny her? That would only make me a bad mother.”

“Or a spoiling one.” He smiles. “But I can’t be too harsh on you, I’d be the same.”

“If not worse…” you say, recounting all the gifts he sent you while away. You haven’t even gone through all of them yet—and something tells you you might never, somehow more on the way…

“Definitely worse.” Naoya repeats, squeezing your cheeks into a pout before kissing the side of your face. “I love you, and I’m sorry.”

“I have long forgiven you, Naoya.” You respond, turning around to see him. “But… promise to never do that again. We swore not to keep secrets between us. And if we are to make this family work, we have to be a team.”

“I know; us against the world.” Naoya murmurs, pulling you closer to him and giving you one last tight hug. “I promise, and I swear I’ll do everything within my reach to make up for all my mistakes.”

“You don’t need to do that, just your love will be enough for the two of us.”

He gives you a breathy chuckle, that he knows will not be an issue, he has more than enough love to share with you and his unborn baby, perhaps even more than he’s comfortable disclosing, which could easily be mended with another baby—

But all in due time, for he does not intend to rush this special moment with you. He simply desires to live the rest of his life with you, one day at a time.

Just… you and his baby.

What a lovely thought to fall asleep to.

I cannot believe they had this discussion naked LMAO I can't be the only one that thought so 🙈 anyways, there you have it. a regretful Naoya that lamented being away from you :( he's really excited to be a dad but hated not being there for you!! I'm 100% sure he cried about feeling your stomach be slightly bigger.

Oh, I love domestic au's. Anyways...

I hope this was to your enjoyment :> Thank you so much for your support!!

Take care and hope to see y'all soon!!

[yanderefarm]

Honestly the idea of sacrificial lamb Nephite is sooo tasty to me, like either the elders secretly serving pretty little omegas or even the occasional alpha on a silver plater to their their wealthy donors, or even a more traditional village sacrifices virgin omegas to the big scary monster in the woods, its just so tasty, make that man a damsel

god both are so good... im always a big fan of like sacrificial bride tropes.

his whole life nephite has been raised to be a bridal candidate for this creature the cult worships and he's very happy to be a bride!! where most brides have been terrified and they had to be forced to go nephite is just so happy to be chosen to serve you. he's never actually heard all the horror stories about what you supposedly do to your brides and then as his "wedding day" approaches he gets more and more nervous. he gets anxious about leaving his family, he gets anxious about if you'll like him, he gets anxious about why none of the other brides came back to the village. but he's not allowed to back out even as he squirms and struggles against his bonds he's forced to actually go through with the sacrifice.

and you're scary. you're used to worthless brides who just scream and cry and fight until they get too annoying and you kill them or break their minds. nephite is scared too but he doesn't cry or scream he just hides nervously. it takes him a few days to warm up to you and then he becomes such a good wife. he's the perfect wife.

alternatively the idea of like masquerade parties where high paying donors are allowed to sample and bid on some of the high quality omegas the cult is raising to be well behaved and easy to mold. you meet nephite there and he's the big prize the most expensive omega there you're not even allowed to sample him because it's important he keeps all his purity in check. you end up spending a lot of money to get him home with you but he's so worth it. he's trying not to cry the whole time you take him home he wants to be a good bride!! he knows what happens to bad brides, he knows they get hurt or go missing. but he's so scared! he's so scared when you tell him to get undressed he starts sobbing and you have to gently reassure him you're not going to hurt him he just needs to be cleaned up for bed time.

[logosbot-tm-fics]

Hellooooooo Grumbo Nation! I wrote a fanfic based on "I'm all the friend that you need." You can either read it here or over on ao3, fic below the cut!

Satisfaction Feels Like A Distant Memory

Mumbo had never really been the jealous type. He had never been bothered by his friends having other friends, and he'd never felt as if he needed attention.

If that was because he didn't think he deserved the attention, or if it was because he'd never viewed himself as all that important, didn't matter. He just had never needed attention.

And then he got to know Grian, and suddenly, he got flooded with attention and appreciation. As if he was incredibly important. As if the world revolved around him.

It had made his chest warm, something comforting and cozy making its home within his heart.

The hermits had always cared for him, and they'd always supported him, but this? This was different.

As if he'd found something to make his soul whole, even though it had never been broken.

And Grian kept giving him attention. Kept showing up to talk to him. Kept telling him that he loved him. Kept making things about Mumbo. Even when they didn't need to be at all.

Mumbo never fully knew what to do in return, but Grian also never asked for anything. He just seemed to be completely content with showering Mumbo with affection, even if the other Hermit ended up a blushing awkward mess, Grian didn't seem to mind.

At least Mumbo was convinced he hadn't minded.

He might've been wrong.

He'd first noticed it on the Hermitcraft server.

After he'd been away for a while, taking a much needed break, he'd returned. Grian had behaved the way he normally did, and Mumbo let his mind relax when he realized that nothing had really changed.

Their relationship was the way it always had been, and Mumbo assumed it would continue to be.

Then things changed. Little by little. Slowly, Grian became less affectionate, slowly he began prioritizing other people, and slowly they saw each other less and less.

Mumbo had never been a jealous person, but now the jealousy was brewing in his stomach, filling his head with a dripping black poison. He hadn't been a jealous person, but now he was.

And as time passed, it started to make Mumbo really, really annoyed.

First, he just tried to get Grian's attention, in Secret Life he tried to talk to him as often as he could. Something that was made easier by the fact that Grian would occasionally show up to check out his base.

But before Mumbo could ask Grian if he'd like to join the mounders, Grian had suddenly joined Cleo and Etho instead.

Mumbo almost broke his pickaxe in two when he found out.

Then Mumbo had ended up as his butler for the session. Mumbo hoped it would mean that they'd get an opportunity to hang out more. Due to the nature of the game, and due to Grian being the way he was, Grian had still managed to stay away.

Eventually Mumbo made one small mistake, and was out of the series before he even fully processed what happened.

A small part of him was quite pleased with how horrified Grian had sounded when Mumbo drowned in the lava.

Despite how close they previously had been, and despite the fact Grian and Mumbo were now on a team in Wild Life, Mumbo's jealousy just got worse.

One session– it turned into pure paranoia– and he was certain that Grian would leave him and Skizz.

He ended up accusing Grian of lying to the and of going behind their backs. Yet, it turned out that that was all in Mumbo's head. Grian hadn't betrayed them, he hadn't started some secret project on his own. He had in reality just done what he'd said.

Which did calm Mumbo's paranoia, but not the jealousy. Yes, now he was sure that Grian would suddenly leave, but he still didn't like it when Grian talked to other people.

It ticked him off, and it ticked him off a lot.

Inevitably the jealousy brewed over when Grian got stuck talking to a group of people.

"Sorry that I have other friends, Mumbo!" Grian yelled, and the poison flooded into Mumbo's veins. It made his body fill with an ugly emotion, one that ended up settling in his chest. An urge to keep Grian away from everyone else. An urge to keep Grian to himself.

"I don't like that." He said through gritted teeth, following Grian as he kept walking. Not even looking back at Mumbo to see if he was following.

And he didn't like it.

Wasn't he enough? Wasn't Mumbo enough for Grian? He certainly used to be, so why wasn't he anymore? He was supposed to be all the friend Grian needed, when had that changed?

"I don't like that one bit. I'm all the friend you need." Mumbo said finally, and he pretended to not notice the glance Grian gave him. He couldn't be bothered to figure out what it meant.

He just wanted Grian to himself.

Somehow, that meant that for the rest of the session, Mumbo kept telling Grian that should just kick Skizz off the team.

He wanted it to just be the two of them. Alone. Only them.

When the snails finally disappeared, the horror of the week over, Mumbo found himself sitting awake in the middle of the night, Grian and Skizz sleeping soundly nearby.

He wasn't supposed to be up. Sure, there were reds on the server, but there was no need to keep watch. The end of each week was always peaceful as if to give the players a moment to charge up a bit, or to maybe lull them into a false sense of safety before hell broke out again.

Despite the peaceful night, Mumbo couldn't sleep. He was stuck staring at the starry night outside, the moon almost glowing like a lamp.

He couldn't stop thinking. No matter what he tried, his mind didn't shut off.

He couldn't stop thinking about how badly he wanted to have all of Grian's attention. How badly he wanted things to return to the way it always had been.

That ugly jealousy had now made its home in Mumbo, replacing the warm fuzzy feeling he had felt in the past.

Where had he misstepped? He'd behaved the way he normally did, and yet Grian's attention had shifted to other things.

No wonder he'd snapped earlier that week. He just wanted to return to being the center of Grian's universe.

He glanced over at the sleeping Grian. He was lying between Mumbo and Skizz, slightly closer to Mumbo. He looked younger when he was asleep, less stressed and significantly more relaxed. As if his worries all vanished when he fell asleep.

Mumbo couldn't stop staring. He wanted to pull him into his arms and run his fingers through the soft looking hair.

Grian must've noticed that Mumbo was staring, and sleepily opened his eyes. He sat up and stretched a bit, his shirt riding up just a tiny bit, revealing the skin of his stomach.

Mumbo quickly looked away, trying to cover up how much he'd been staring. Not that Grian hadn't already noticed. He definitely had, but Mumbo didn't want to acknowledge that, and instead just looked at the sky outside.

He heard Grian yawn, followed by the noise of him shuffling closer. “Can't sleep?” Grian asked, now sitting right next to Mumbo.

Mumbo shook his head in response. “No.” He replied, truthfully. He had tried to, but quickly gave up when his thoughts became too loud.

“That's alright. This session was rather stressful, even for me.” Grian said, and leaned his head against Mumbo's shoulder.

Mumbo suddenly became very aware of how loudly his own heart was beating, how he wanted to melt into Grian's touch. Just having Grian close felt reliving, the jealousy fading a bit. “That's not…that's not why I'm awake.” Mumbo confessed silently.

“It isn't?” Grian asked, his arm wrapping around Mumbo's, their hands becoming intertwined.

Mumbo looked at him, and now he could clearly see what he'd ignored earlier. Concern. Grian's eyes were filled with worry and concern, something he rarely showed. It was the same thing that had shown on his face when he had glanced at Mumbo. “No.” Mumbo replied, letting himself take in the view of Grian's face. He looked rather adorable in his sleepy state, and he couldn't help but feel a bit guilty that he had made the other concerned. “My thoughts are just a tad bit too loud, I fear.” He sighed.

Grian's brows furrowed. “I can give you some space if you'd like, if that would help.”

Before he could stop himself, Mumbo's hold on Grian's hand got stronger, as he was now gripping onto it instead. He didn’t want him to leave him alone. He wanted him there. Right next to him. He wanted him to remain close. “Please don't.” He whispered, voice cracking slightly at the fragility of the words. “Could you stay?”

And in a brief second, relief took the place of the concern in Grian's expression, his eyes softening. He smiled slightly at Mumbo. “Of course.”

He spoke with the same reverence his voice had had in the past. The same softness. The same care.

Mumbo had to actively fight against himself to not wrap his arms around him, to not hold onto him in the way a snake holds onto its prey. “Thank you.” He replied instead.

Grian let go of Mumbo's hand, and instead laid down again, this time with his head in Mumbo's lap.

Almost as soon as he'd laid down, Mumbo's hand began to card his fingers through Grian's hair. It was just as soft as it appeared.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Grian asked, looking up at Mumbo.

Mumbo shook his head. “I'd rather not.” He replied. “Not tonight at least.”

Grian yawned, obviously still tired, and nodded. “Alright. You can tell me whenever you feel like it, I'm here for you if you need me.”

Mumbo's chest filled with the warmth it had lacked for so many months, the very same fuzzy feeling he was almost sure had been completely replaced by jealousy.

He suddenly found himself smiling softly at Grian, feeling a fondness that was almost overwhelming. “Thanks, bud.”

Grian chuckled. “Anytime.”

The cave turned quiet again, as Mumbo kept playing with Grian's hair. Soon enough, Grian's quiet snores filled the silence, falling asleep with his head in Mumbo's lap.

Despite the beautiful view of the sky outside, Mumbo couldn't look away from Grian.

He wanted nothing more than to just continue looking at him.

And as he sat there, he slowly realized that it wasn't just that he wanted to be the center of Grian's universe. He wanted more. He wanted to wake up next to him, wanted to hold his hand and follow him to the end of the universe.

He hadn't realized it before, but his world revolved around Grian. To Mumbo, Grian was the center. The sun around which the planets orbited around. Mumbo the moon, constantly trying to soak up any of the sunshine that Grian would give him.

He loved him. That's what the fuzzy feeling was. That's why he'd been so jealous.

He sat in silence, wondering if Grian felt the same. If that's why Grian had behaved the way he did in the past, and if he'd given up when Mumbo didn't seem to reciprocate.

How foolish of Mumbo. If he'd just played along a bit more, if he had given Grian just a bit more attention, maybe he wouldn't be feeling the jealousy he felt.

Maybe they'd be together.

But he didn't want to ask Grian now. It felt rude to wake him up, when he had fallen asleep again. He wanted to know though. He wanted to know if he was right.

Sighing, Mumbo carefully placed Grian on the ground, and laid down next to him, deciding to try to fall asleep again.

And maybe Grian hadn't been sleeping so deeply, because he opened his eyes again, though this time, he appeared significantly less awake than earlier.

Mumbo froze, unsure of what to do.

Then Grian sighed, and stretched out an arm, gesturing for him to move closer. “Come on, get over here.” He said.

And Mumbo did.

Grian immediately pressed himself closer to Mumbo, as Mumbo carefully wrapped his arms around him. “Maybe you're right, you know?” Grian whispered.

“What do you mean?” Mumbo asked, as he felt himself become tired.

Grian smiled at him, slightly mischievously. “Maybe you are all the friend that I need.” He said, sounding very pleased.

“I-” Mumbo didn't get a chance to reply though, as Grian quickly fell back asleep.

Eventually Mumbo fell asleep too, and for the first time in a long while, he slept very well.

[frances-baby-houseman]

ok instead of writing anything I would like to share this very meaningful letter from the clergy at my temple, lightly edited for privacy. I think many of us could find comfort in the Jewish ideals of tikkun olam right now.

Friends,

In the days to come there will be many articles, podcasts, and books analyzing Tuesday's election.  How things happened and what it means will be dissected in every possible way.  As spiritual leaders we are not asked to be pundits, but looking through a Jewish lens, our goals remain the same today as they were yesterday and as they will be in the future.

No matter who sits in the Oval Office, our tradition teaches us to work for peace and justice. We are commanded to love the stranger, our neighbor, and all those in need.  In our lives every administration has needed us to speak up and work for positive change.  In that real and important sense today is just like any other day, and even if the election had gone differently, we would still be gearing up to make a change for the better.  In American terms we call that making “a more perfect union.”

In half of our country there is sadness, the other half is feeling satisfaction.  In any case let us not lose sight of the ultimate goal that God sets before all of us.  We know that we can all be stronger where our broken places are repaired.  There are broken places in our hearts, within our families, and across our natiion.

So, take a deep breath, a cleansing breath, take a step back if you need to, and then return to the awesome task before us to transform and repair the world.  In the Torah this week, Abraham begins his journey.  He leaves his home and heads toward the unknown.  In truth every day when we wake up, we start a journey anew.  Some things stay familiar but others change and we keep moving forward with a vision of compassion and hope.

As always, our clergy team is here to help, so please reach out personally, or come to services, Coffee with the Clergy or any other event, because the best way through is together.

With Shalom--

[kryptznnn]

♡/♛- Disrespectful [II]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.

➸ INTERESTS; -jjk!geto suguru/satoru gojo x sorcerer!reader

➸ BACKGROUND; -living within your early twenties, you were working alongside Geto as his protege. As he required extended information on someone who served an important part of his past that he claimed was his enemy, he sends you out to become his personal spy. The only problem was that what the future had in store between you and both men was highly unexpected.

➸ WARNINGS; - wc.2.4k, cursing, arguing, romantic tension between two parties, kissing, slight sexual mentions, heated make-out sessions, manipulation mentions.

➸a.i; - i know i know chapter is super short, i'll make it up to u guys i swear im just super tired, next chapter will be way longer!! ily guys.

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♡/♛- Disrespectful [I]

You sighed as you sat back in your car and buckling your seatbelt as Satoru watched you. Waving at you cheerfully as he kept one hand within his pocket. The dinner had ended thankfully, and, in all honesty, it made you leave with more questions than answers.

He made it more confusing and difficult than anything else, but honestly you couldn't complain about a huge part. A man as powerful as him and having that much to deal with? It was largely obvious why he was so closed off when the topic became personal.

If you weren’t on track and so focused or dedicated towards your mission and the information you needed, he either would’ve caught on or had forgotten. You went through so many loopholes with him you were completely unaware of how much time you two had spent together.

Both of your plates had been empty, and the waitress had refilled both of your drink's countless times. It’s as if you two were fighting, well only you. He had a counter claim for anything that came out of your mouth, unless if it was something personal, which he was trying to get out of you to begin with.

By the time the two of you stepped outside of the restaurant it was very late, you had checked your phone for the first time in hours to read the time.

10:47pm

You gasped harshly walking side by side with him when you read the time, repeating it out loud to him. Remembering you had arrived a little before 7pm to be on the safe side and seeing you've been here nearly 3 hours later had gave you chills. He only looked at the silver watch on his wrist and grinned, saying you should go home.

You cocked a brow at him, asking what about himself. He only remarked he had business to attend late tonight, and he offered to walk you to his car. Honestly, you would’ve applied pressure to find out what it was, but you wasted so much energy trying to do that initially inside the restaurant, so you let it rest.

Now you were driving back to your apartment, completely forgetting you were supposed to check in with Suguru as soon as possible. As you pulled into the parking lot, you only grabbed your purse and parked. Soon walking out and locking your car as you used your keys to lock it.

You entered your apartment with a sigh, removing your heels by the front door exhausted and telling yourself you'd tend to it tomorrow. You went straight to your bathroom, quickly de-robing and tending to your face, removing all of your makeup and jewelry. As you were nearly done washing your face you heard your phone ringing from inside your purse that you had thrown on your bed.

You went into your room and pulled your cellphone out from your purse to see the screen lighting up with 'Annoying Ass Satoru'. You smiled to yourself and answered, placing him on speaker as you walked around your room, finding something more comfortable to wear as you unhooked your bra.

"Hey, did you make it back safely?" You heard his voice ask on the line, you changed into your clothes as you answered him.

"Oh no I just crashed off a cliff and fell into the ocean, but I answered your call." You answered satirically, hearing him chuckle over the phone. You smiled to yourself as you listened to him on the line.

You two spoke for a while, exchanging things back and forth, of course without him throwing sudden hints or flirtatious comments. It made you blush partially, even though you've tried so many times to swallow it down.

You had mentioned it before, he was an attractive man, funny intelligent and classy, and besides it shouldn't be anything you should give in too. You had someone already, although the two of you weren't serious and didn't necessarily claim one another, you had Suguru, right?

His comments and attitude had begun to dig underneath your skin, well at least in a good way. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help what you felt, overall, he seemed to be a good man, which made you question why Suguru held such a grudge against him, but it’s not like you could know anymore.

Soon you two wrapped up your conversations and said your goodbyes and good nights. You placed your phone to charge and fell asleep, forgetting entirely to place an alarm for the next morning regardless of it being Saturday.

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Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest when you were awoken to the sound of keys rattling outside of your door, before you could even properly get up you heard the doorknob twist and your door creak open.

You quickly got up, thinking quickly and using the water leftover from a large glass by your nightstand. Transforming it into a large liquid like dagger and held it with one hand as you placed your other in front of you, hardening it to ice and prepared to fight.

You heard as the footsteps from outside made their way to your bedroom, realizing them immediately and drawing your hands down and taking a sigh of relief.

“I could’ve killed you” you said, lowering your weapon and placing it back in the glass on the nightstand, now melting the ice back to its original form. Suguru didn’t respond, he didn’t even nod or smile, just glared at you.

“Maybe if you would’ve paid attention to the messages or calls, I was sending you, you would’ve known I was coming.” He responded blatantly, you only rolled your eyes at his cold remarks and made your way to the bathroom, freshening up.

“I left the other phone in the car” you replied, now finishing up and washing your face. Hearing him scoff from outside of the bathroom, you dried your face and made your way back to your room, sitting on your bed as you watched him stand.

“Did you kiss him or fuck him?” He asked you, his arms crossed watching your surprised expression. You sucked your teeth at him and stood up, ashamed he would even mention such a thing.

“Are you fucking crazy? Why would you even ask me such a thing.” You spat at him, now making your way to him and jabbing him in the chest. He quickly swatted your hand away.

“I have every right to ask you such a thing. You haven’t returned my texts or calls since yesterday afternoon after you left me without even saying goodbye. Or are you forgetting you didn’t even check in with me after your little date, you completely forgot about me.” He said harshly, now jabbing you back in your chest.

He couldn’t be serious, doing all of this over a simple mistake is idiotic. He’s made countless mistakes before and has always left it to you to clean up, now he wants to act all perfect.

Please.

"I still barely know my position here. I'm not sure what you want from me or what you expect me to do at this little high school or with Satoru. All you do is ever leave me out in the dark or make me clean up after your messes. I'm so sorry I got caught up doing the work you asked me to." You snarled in response, now slapping his hand off of your chest and making your way back to your bathroom and slamming the door behind you.

You couldn't believe him, the nerves of him. He wasn't here or saying these things out of respect or concern for you, it was all jealousy. Jealous of you spending time with another man other than him, jealous of someone else having your attention.

He was jealous of the fact that out of all people you were spending time with, it was with someone he's envied for so long or has tried for even longer to take him down. You shook your head as you looked at yourself in the mirror, still in the same clothes you had slept in the night before.

You could never truly understand Suguru or what his intentions were for you. You could also never make him do what you wanted or preferred him to do, it was constantly a lose/lose situation. After every argument or disagreement, the two of you shared things would always go his way, his ego would climb while yours would falter.

Surprisingly no matter what you said or did to him he'd constantly find a loophole around it, twisting your words against you. You had heard a term for it, manipulation?

No.

Gaslighting.

Whichever form of manipulation it was you hated every ounce of it, and it would make your skin crawl or your head pound. You muttered to yourself angrily as you could hear Suguru outside of the bathroom arguing with you still, or merely himself, as you had stopped speaking a while ago.

You only opened the door, finding him in the same spot as before. You slowly made your way over to your bed and sat on it, watching him waste his breath. The more he pried, you began to just sit there and go on your phone.

He quickly took note of you ignoring him before taking a deep breath and sighing. Slowly making his way up to you and sitting beside you, reaching his hand over your lower back and placing it over your waist as you stiffened a little.

"M'sorry" he said softly before placing a kiss on the side of your head, the sound ringing through your ear. You gave into it, leaning into him slightly, then resting your head on his shoulder.

Every relationship came with it's benefits and downsides, your relationship with Suguru, if you could even call it that, had it's benefits. He was a gentleman when it came to you from time to time, and he loved children, that part always makes you smile.

But there were times when he made you doubt yourself entirely, like right now. Could one of the reasons why he's so closed off when it comes to work with you is because he doesn't trust you enough to share it?

You sighed as you gave him a side hug, now placing your phone off to the side. He smelled good, he always smelled good, and it never failed to make you smile. Soon the two of you let one another go and you stood up making your way to your fridge.

"I thought we agreed you only come here for emergencies" you stated, looking for something to eat. You looked behind you for a split second to see his expression, he only laid in your bed after removing his shoes.

"You're always going to be an emergency for me" he said without hesitation, you couldn't contain your smile as you heard him. You turned back around to see him comfortable within your bed and you made your way over to him. Without a second thought he grabbed ahold of your wrist and pulled you on top of him.

Within seconds you were now straddling him, laughing alongside him as he grabbed ahold of your waist. The laughter between the two of you soon died down as you quickly got realization of what was happening between the two of you.

The pit of your stomach began to flutter lightly as you tried to get up, but his placement on your waist was firm. He was ensuring you wouldn't go anywhere; he didn't want you to go anywhere. He only sat up slightly and kissed you, to which you kissed him back.

You were quick to place your hands on his shoulders in order to keep your balance, deepening the kiss. As the passion was shared between the two of you, Suguru was quick to break the kiss and remove his hands from your waist, simply to take his shirt off.

Before you could do the same or move any further along with him, your stomach growled. You pouted slightly, covering your face and chuckling out of embarrassment as he laughed. His laugh indicating to you that he had definitely heard your stomach rumble.

"C'mon, I'll take you out to eat. My treat? Back by my place." He said, quick to sit you down as he grabbed his shirt and placed it back over his head. You took the time to admire his figure, his torso and large toned back, a large smile plastered on your face.

"What is it?" He asked, turning around to look at you after he had finished pulling his shirt down. You only shook your head and waved your hands around out of defense.

"Nothing, nothing, I'll go get changed" you stated simply, quick to get up and dig around in your dresser drawers for clothes to wear. You could feel Suguru's eyes on you with every movement you made, making you smile even harder.

Without a second passing by, you thought of Satoru for a moment. You raised a brow to yourself as you stood up and made your way to the bathroom, your clothing and towel now in hand.

Why were you thinking about him at a time like this? That wasn't something that had occurred before and it was strange for it to even happen to begin with. After the small, shared moment you shared with Suguru out of all people in this planet your mind could've brought up it had to be his sworn enemy?

As you disrobed and entered the shower your mind began to wander even farther. The flashes of the quick moment you had just shared with your lover, if you could even call him that, were now replaced with Satoru.

This time you weren't confused or upset with your thoughts but embraced it further to see how far it could lead you.

If he had you straddled on him,

Or if he had kissed you,

Or if he kept his firm hands on your waist,

Maybe if he fucked yo-

You immediately slapped your cheeks with both hands, covering your eyes as you quickly got the image out of your mind. You had definitely thought too far and wandered where you didn't expect to end up. This was bad, very bad, and just like that the simple small clip you had imagined of making love to Satoru Gojo hadn't left your mind for a while.

All of the while Suguru was awaiting you outside of the bathroom to take you out to eat breakfast.

This wasn't just bad

It was horrible.

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Current Taglist:

@ami20019

✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

OH MY GYATTTT YOU WROTE "SECRETS IN LOVE" AND IT WAS SO GOOD WTH? CAN YOU PLSPLSPLS DO THE SAME THING WITH DAVE MUSTAINE PLS IM ON MY KNEES BEGGING ILL GIVE YOU MY WHOLE RESPECT AND LOVE PLS ILYSM

A/n: Ik Dave hates cats but he looks like a cat so fuck you idk

Warnings: smut, hybrid au, stomach bulge, breeding kink, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

You always wanted a pet but your dad was allergic to pretty much everything, luckily that didn't seem to get passed down to you so when you found a stray cat on your walk home from work you happily brought it into your home.

The cat was big, much bigger than a normal house cat. You brushed it off as the cat being a main coon or something. It had long ginger fur that was matted and not well groomed so you ran it a bath when you got home.

The cat, who you quickly found out was a boy, was very needy for your touch, purring when you pet him and reaching for you when you pulled away.

You took him to the vet the next morning, went out and got all the necessities, you'd wasted your whole childhood without pets and you had a lot of making up to do, this was your chance.

You never gave him a name, sticking to nicknames and affectionate terms -dipshit, handsome, monsieur, dumbass.

He cuddled up in bed with you while you slept, walked around the kitchen with you when you cooked, hell, he was so obedient you got him a leash and collar and started taking him on walks.

He was a smart cat, so smart you often swore he was talking to you, but that was crazy... right?

You'd had him for almost a year, you didn't know how old he was exactly or when he was born but you still wanted to celebrate, if not his birthday, the day you got him. You went a little overboard but he was special to you, your first pet and a very important character in your life.

It didn't worry you too much to not know how old he was until recently when he started to pick up the wretched scent. At first you thought he'd just played in something he shouldn't have but the smell carried through multiple baths and only seemed to get worse as days passed.

You took him to the vet but they said he was fine, you didn't believe it but you didn't have anything else to go off of, only able to trust the vets word. You didn't know what was happening but your mind kept pushing the worst so you were going to celebrate his new birthday goddammit.

The cat had been spending almost everyday in your room, on your bed. He seemed happy there and angry everywhere else, but he also seemed angry whenever you weren't there or when you were leaving, he'd always try to keep you to stay. It was the first time he'd ever hissed at you.

You came home with a small brown paper bag of treats for him, little cookies with yogurt frosting, or something you weren't really paying attention but they were from the pet store down the street so you trusted them.

You walked in and the smell hit you like a train. It was worse than ever and it only got stronger as you neared the bedroom. Something was definitely wrong.

"Hey, where's my handsome boy-" You were stopped dead in your tracks when you opened the door to your bedroom only to find not a cat but a man splayed out in your bed. You dropped the baggy and stared at him.

He was tall and bare, shoulders littered with freckles and a long fiery main of hair reaching past his shoulders. There was a prominent scar on his side, just under his ribs, with the fluffy tail and matching ears there was no doubt who it was.

"My handsome boy..." You muttered, taking a few hesitant steps closer. He was panting, body heaving with every breath. The scent shifted in the air, fogging your mind and suddenly it didn't smell so rancid.

"Dave..." He grunted. "M'Dave." He weakly reached for you and you took his hand, feeling the callouses on the pads of his fingers, his little toe beans.

"What-what happened to you..?" You asked, pulling your hand away. This had to be some twisted dream, this wasn't your cat, this wasn't who you cuddled with every night. This was Dave, not your cat.

He laughed weakly, smiling tiredly up at you. "What answer are you hoping for?"

You shrugged, you had a few questions and wanted answers to all of them but that would take some time and he looked... well, in a sense godly, but he looked like he was in pain. "Are you... You're dying, aren't you..?" You asked solemnly, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

Dave stared at you blankly for a moment before he slowly started to laugh. "No, I'm not dying, the vet told you so... by the way, I'm never going there again." He said, sitting up and not bothering to cover himself, you couldn't stop your gaze from wandering to the ginger tufts leading down to his hard cock, red and pulsing painfully. It was a strange sight but you could feel a heat pooling in your gut.

He caught where you were looking and leaned closer to you, placing a finger under your chin and tilting your head to look up at him. His plush lips met yours in a sweet kiss, it was short because he pulled away to look at you. "I'm not dying, it's just a rut."

"A rut?" You repeated curiously, eyes flickering over his face, taking in his strong features -cut jaw, sharp nose, full lips, and those eyes... you could die happy staring into them. This wasn't your cat, definitely not.

"Yeah, like a heat." He said simply, shifted closer to you. "I need a mate, someone to make mine, someone to have my kits." He placed another kiss onto your lips, this lasting longer, more desire in it. "I need you, master."

"Y/n." You said quickly. "Call me Y/n."

He smiled at you, hand falling from your chin to your side and giving it a gentle squeeze. "How about I just call you mine." He said, tone darker than you'd heard from him so far.

He was much stronger than you'd taken him for, pulling you tight to him and getting you on your back under him. He didn't bother with your clothes, instead just ripping them off of you and discarding the scraps over the sides of the bed.

A moment ago he seemed weak and aching, now he was pinning you down to the mattress effortlessly, lips moving against yours like a perfect ocean, strong and vivid motions.

He gripped your thighs so tight they were sure to bruise, but he needed you, every inch he could get. He pushed your legs up, knees to your chest, and slid into you easily with how wet you were, so needy for him already.

This was a new passion you'd never felt before. He wasn't your first, but no one was like him, big and strong sure, but this was different, you just didn't know why.

That smell filled your nostrils again, it worked like a drug, making you melt. Dave groaned above you, breath catching in his throat. "Mph- Fuck." He grunted, leaning down and flattening your body like a folding chair with his. His hips moved fast, thrusting into you at a harsh pace and making your stomach bulge with his size every time.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply. A deep rumbling filtered through your ears, sending vibrations through your body. "So good, so good for me, sweetheart, just keep making those sounds." Your moans echoed out through the room as your body bounced up and down the bed, making the bedframe creak but you couldn't be bothered to worry about it breaking.

You felt Dave's hot breath fanning over your neck, right where it connected to your shoulder. "Smell so good..." He groaned, licking over the skin there. Your hands clawed at his back, body aching for more than he was giving you, somehow, you needed more.

You were so close, body twitching under Dave. He bit down on you, sharp canines breaking your skin with ease. It was an animalistic need he felt and it only made his movements more aggressive, make your moans higher and needier.

Soon your body was wracked with pleasure, your hands fell from their spot on Dave's back, instead moving to hold his arms that were planted right beside your head. He didn't stop and he didn't let go of your flesh, occasionally licking the wound but his scratchy tongue wasn't the pleasant touch he thought it was.

A heat or rut could last days or even weeks and Dave was no exception. He had a long start to it, hence the stench that just got worse over time, but it was only lasting three days, thankfully, your body couldn't take much more than that.

There were quick breaks, Dave would get up to get water and it gave you a minute to yourself. Your body ached, pulsing from pleasure, hole fluttering around nothing, the absence of Dave hurt more. Tears stained your cheeks and the sheets under you along with other fluids. Your thighs were bruised and that bite Dave had left on your neck... you didn't know what it was but it was warm and smelled like him.

Most notably, you felt fluffy, your brain was fuzzy but you were fluffy... You brushed it aside when Dave would return, offering you a few sips of water while he got resituated inside you.

Dave had crashed not long after you, the smell, while it didn't stink anymore, was no longer present. Other smells were very much there but not the Dave's rut. You woke up to be greeted with darkness and sugar coated pain.

All you needed was to make it to the bathroom, how long you'd last away from Dave you didn't know and didn't plan on finding out but that bathroom was good enough.

You were walking funny and the lights stung your eyes when they hit them. Looking in the mirror your stomach was bloated with Dave, always making a point to cum inside you and you lost count after three -for him, by that point you were well past... something.

Still, the most notable change wasn't your full gut or your red face, not even the mark spread over your neck and shoulder, instead it was the fluffy bunny ears that had propped themselves up on your head and the tail bundled up neatly on your lower back.

“Wow…” Dave’s voice came from the door, breathless and full of love. He moved behind you, wrapping his arms around you to hold your swollen stomach. “Mine, all mine.” He mumbled, pressing a kiss to your neck right where he’d marked you. “My sweet little bunny.”

When the hell did this happen? And why did it feel so right…

[yandere-paramour]

Basically noe and atas darlings (there sisters) fighting who has the better girlfriend/wife then viven darling recording the whole thing (trying hard not to laugh at there idiot siblings)

Vivien would be on the ground kicking his feet and laughing, filming with his Darling; he loves silly fights and he loves seeing siblings love each other (honestly it's a shame he never had any siblings).

Atalanta would scold tf out of you, this is exactly why you can't go outside unguarded, you can't control yourself. And over her? No fight over her name should ever be more important than your safety. Yes she knows you weren't hurt but still. She is taking you home right now, say bye to your siblings and get in the car.

Noelle has 4 sisters, she knows exactly the urge to strangle your own bloodline. And she is flattered you were fighting for her. You're still not leaving the apartment for a month though, she can't have you brawling and getting yourself hurt, not even for her sake.