#it hasn't noticed she doesn't actually sit in it

[m00nymonster]

Discord convo shenanigans. I think Ratthi is overly enthusiastic about cats and always scares them away, MB ignores fauna in general unless it's eating humans so cats LOVE it and it doesn't get why. Deep breath guys, this is a two page comic so it's gonna be a long image id, oof.

[ID: first page of a six panel comic. First panel is a splash image of a birthday party, with a banner saying HAPPY BIRTHDAY over a big window, a table with cake and punch, and a circular rug on the floor. The left wall has a framed picture on the wall, the right a closed door. The image is in black and white markers. In the background Murderbot sits in the corner in a comfy plush chair, listening to music with its eyes closed. In the foreground Amena and Mensah are having a conversation; next to them are Gurathin, Ratthi and Pin-Lee. They are observed by drones. In the left corner Small Human is poking a drone. A cat is approaching MB's chair. The next three images focus on MB in its chair. In the first the cat sits next to MB, it observes with a drone but doesn't otherwise pay attention to the cat. In the second the cat is jumping onto MB's lap; it looks startled. In the third the cat curls up into a ball, and MB stares at it, befuddled. Fourth panel: MB stares at the cat with an eyebrow raised as Small Human approaches and says, Oh, Miss Kitty LIKES you! Well you can't move now, you'll wake her up! In the last panel someone yells CAKE TIME! offscreen and Small Human runs off, yelling Ooooh! Wait for me! /ID]

[ID: Second page of a two page comic. There are four panels. The first has Mensah standing at the door, waving and saying Goodbye! See you soon! The second is a closeup of Mensah looking scared as someone offscreen says in a spikey speech bubble, Dr. Mensah, help. The third is a splash image, same as the first panel in the first page, but now the cake is eaten and the punch bow is empty. There is a spilled cup on the table. Murderbot sits in the corner, arms crossed, staring at the cat. It says verbally, I am trapped and cannot move. Mensah laughs behind her hand. Fourth panel: there is a large rectangle with LATER written on it in the left corner. Under it is Ratthi's chibi head, with a feed text box that says, GASP! In the center of the panel Murderbot stands in the center of the room, looking uncomfortable as Miss Kitty bats at its drone Small Human stands next to it, looking amused. On the right a feed text box says, with a crying Ratthi head beside it: Miss Kitty likes SecUnit more than me??? Below it is Gurathin's head, with a feed text box that says HAHAHAHA! Below that is another feed text box, this time with Ratthi's head with an angry expression yelling Not funny Gurathin! Finally at the bottom is Pin-Lee, smirking as her feed text box says, That's not funny, that's HILARIOUS. /ID]

[starfruitii]

cws & notes. fluff. post-timeskip. iwaizumi hajime x gn!reader, + special guest appearances from the seijoh 4 because i love them. 800+ words.

“Wait. Wait a second.” Oikawa squints at you, then at Iwaizumi, then back at you again. “Something's different.”

“First time we see you in almost a year, and you're already acting weird.” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, pulling out two chairs for you both to sit down. “Nothing's different.”

“Glad to see leaving Japan hasn't changed you, Oikawa.” You chime in, sliding into your seat. It was a nice little cafe, not too crowded, but not empty either. The table Oikawa had chosen was tucked away in the back, right by a window overlooking the street, giving you a perfect opportunity to watch the people walking by.

“No.... no, something is definitely off.” Oikawa looks over to the other two occupied seats, searching for some sort of agreement from his companions. “You two see it, don't you? Something has definitely changed since our last meet-up.”

“Our last meet-up was last September. I think it would be weirder if we hadn't changed a little since then,” Matsukawa laughs, waving him off. “I mean, look at Makki's haircut.”

Hanamaki looks thoughtful for a moment, nodding at Oikawa. “Nah, I think he's got a point. You two seem a little—Wait, what do you mean? What's wrong with my hair, asshole?”

“Hey, I didn't say it was bad! Just... different.”

“So, different in a good way?”

“Uh... sure, if that's what you want to go with.”

“You—”

“This isn't about Makki's hair!” Oikawa interrupts, pointing an accusing finger towards Iwaizumi. He looks up from the menu in his hands, glaring back at Oikawa. “It's about them. Something happened between you two, didn't it?”

“Maybe they got engaged.” Hanamaki suggests.

“They have to be dating before they get engaged.” Matsukawa pauses, realization on his face. “Wait, is that it? Did you guys actually start dating? Do I owe Makki ¥2000?”

“You're all imagining things.” Iwaizumi says bluntly. “Now, are we going to order or not?”

Oikawa's suspicion doesn't waver, but the mention of food distracts him enough to begrudgingly let the topic go. He waves over a waitress, ordering drinks and snacks for the whole table. Once she is gone, the conversation shifts to Matsukawa's work, then Hanamaki's lack of work, then everything Oikawa has been up to in Argentina.

Throughout the visit, you sit back and relax, chiming in with your own anecdotes and comments every now and then. For the most part, you keep quiet, content with listening to your friends as they catch up. Ever since graduation, when you all went your separate ways, reunions with all five of you were few and far between, so you were just happy to be together once again.

You barely notice the time passing at all, until Oikawa is five-minutes deep into a rant about his new team. Iwaizumi looks at his watch and balks, standing up from his seat.

“It's already five.” He says, cutting off Oikawa's voice. “I gotta get going soon.”

“Me too,” You sigh.

“Already?” Matsukawa groans.

“Both of you?” Hanamaki asks, raising an eyebrow. “You have plans you'd like to share?”

“He's my ride home.” You shrug, gathering up your things. “It was great seeing you guys though. We'll have to hang out again when you're all free.”

After your goodbyes, the two of you leave the cafe and walk the short distance to Iwaizumi's car. Once you're alone, you settle into a comfortable silence, accompanied by the quiet sounds of the city in the background. Without your friends' scrutinizing gaze, Iwaizumi walks a little closer to you, until your shoulders lightly brush. The slight touch sends a shiver down your spine, but you make no effort to move away.

“So, Oikawa seems to think something is up.” You say casually, watching Iwaizumi frown at the mention of his friend.

“He can think whatever he wants to think.” He rolls his eyes, holding open the side door of his car. “We don't owe him anything.”

“We do have to tell them at some point, don't we?” You continue, as you climbed into the passenger seat. “You of all people should know he's not going to shut up about it until we do.”

“Of course I know that.” Iwaizumi grumbled, as soon as he was sat in his own seat.

“So...?”

“So what?” He adjusts his mirrors, glancing over at you.

“Is he right?” There's a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. It's clear you find it much more amusing than he does. You lean closer, whispering the words like they're a grand secret. “Is something different, Hajime?”

Iwaizumi shakes his head a little, but can't hide the small smirk on his face. His hand reaches out to grasp your chin, tilting your face upwards so he can press a slow, sweet kiss to your lips. As he leans back, there's a light pink dusting his cheeks. “I don't know. Has something changed?”

You laugh lightly, savouring the taste of his lips on your own. “Nope. Nothing at all.”

do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai. reblogs are appreciated <3

[lvrsfilm]

Lieutenant Simon Riley has a favorite nurse. She's sweet as sugar and polite, stitching up every bloodied soldier with gentle words and touches so light they barely feel the push and pull of the suturing. Appreciative, whether they return the soft conversation or not. He likes the way she floats around the medical wing, the way she smiles softly at everyone, even him. He's sure she knows what he's been doing, but she isn't stopping him, so he assumes she doesn't mind.

Every morning, without fail she gets up and comes into the wing in a different colored pair of scrubs. A new color every day, never the same one twice in a week. She sits at the front desk or at another station somewhere around and sips a can of ginger ale through a straw, pretending she doesn't see Simon's eyes on her while she works.

"Wha's it t'day?" Simon says gruffly as he approaches her, bypassing the other nurses almost completely. "Blackberry," She says softly, looking up at him and displaying the can. He takes a look at her scrubs, and of course, they're a dark purple, matching the can. It suits her, he thinks. Not an obnoxious shade, one that matches her skin tone well. "Good?" He asks her, like he always does. "Not my favorite,' she says as she sets the can back down. He hums lowly in reply as his eyes linger on the fabric of her scrubs, the way the cloth dips over her soft curves.

"You hurt?" She asks him cheekily, "Or just taken an interest in the medical field?" He grunts, pulling his eyes away from her scrubs and meeting her own. "Nae," He says lowly. "Just passing by," he adds, shoving his gloved hands into his pockets to keep from touching her. Or reaching out to smooth out a wrinkle in her clothing, or tucking some of her hair behind her ear.

He doesn't know what else to say, wanting to keep her attention on him. "Suits ya," He ends up saying softly, trying to sound as gruff as possible, but his eyes are trained on hers, his hazel eyes staring into her own irises. "The purple." He grumbles, cursing inwardly because why is he acting like he's never spoken to a pretty bird before?

"Thank you, Lieutenant." She says sweetly, a nice red tinting the apples of her cheeks. Simon shifts his weight from one foot to the other, unsure what to say next. Small talk hasn't ever been his strong suit, but walking away feels wrong, like cutting a thread that’s barely started to weave.

"You sure you're alright?" she asks again, but this time there's something softer in her voice. A note of genuine curiosity, her hands stilling on her keyboard. "You don’t usually linger this long."

He scowls—not at her, but at himself for being so obvious. "Dinnae know I was bein’ timed," he mutters, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets.

She chuckles, the sound low and warm. "You’re not. Just... noticed, is all." Her gaze flicks over him, quick and subtle, like she’s trying to piece him together without openly prying. She's familiar with Simon, knows how private he is. "Busy morning?"

He shrugs. "Same as usual. Training, Paperwork."

Her lips quirk upward in a faint smile, but there’s a shadow of worry behind her eyes. "Sounds like you could use a break."

"Aye," he says gruffly, a hand leaving his pocket to scratch at the base of his balaclava. "Reckon this is it."

Her smile softens at that, and for a moment, neither of them speaks. There’s a weight in the air, something unspoken that presses against his chest, and hers. He wants to say more, to keep her talking, but the words are tangled up in his throat.

"Y’know," she says after a pause, "I think purple might actually suit you too."

His brows furrow softly, squinting at her a bit behind the mask, and for a split second, he wonders if she’s teasing him. But her expression is sincere, her eyes glinting with a quiet kind of amusement.

"Me?" he scoffs, shaking his head. "Don’t reckon that’s in regulation."

She shrugs lightly, leaning against the desk. "Wouldn’t hurt to try. Maybe a mask or something. Just a little color." There’s a playful glint in her eyes now, and he feels the corner of his mouth twitch despite himself.

"Don’t think I’d pull it off," he mutters, though there’s a faint warmth creeping up his neck, hidden by the black fabric.

"I disagree," she says softly, and the weight of her gaze feels heavier than before. He looks at her then, really looks, and finds himself rooted to the spot.

"You always this cheeky with the patients?" he grumbles, trying to mask the fact that she’s gotten under his skin.

"Only the ones who hover around the nurses' station without a good excuse," she quips, her smile widening just a fraction. "But I don’t mind. You’re welcome anytime, Lieutenant."

His heart gives a traitorous thump at her words, but he swallows it down and grunts in reply. "I’ll hold ya to that," he says, his voice rougher than he intends.

As he turns to leave, her voice calls him back again, soft and lilting. "Oh, and Simon?"

He stops dead in his tracks. She’s never used his name before. Slowly, he turns his head to glance at her, his hazel eyes locking onto hers.

"Next time," she says, lifting her can of ginger ale in a mock toast, "you could at least bring one of these to share."

His lips twitch into something dangerously close to a smile. "Aye," he murmurs, his voice low. "I’ll see what I can do."

And as he walks out of the wing, he finds himself already wondering what color she’ll be wearing tomorrow.

[somnoir]

Bats and Phantoms - Part 5

Part 4 | Masterpost

Jason and Phantom

Danny has noticed a pattern ever since he punched the Joker to death.

He's lost multiple things over the course of the past few weeks. Once, his laptop was smashed to bits during an attack by Bane (he really should have Tucker reinforce all his electronics). The next day, there was a new Wayne tech laptop on his counter.

When he visited his favorite cafe, his usual orders were paid for the next month. The barista refused to tell him who bought his month's supply of Living Dead. She was smiling a little too much in his opinion (he'd have to ask Tucker for a background check on Chelsea now. He liked her, but damn him if she was working with the crime lord.)

Danny knows very well that Gothamites either mug people or get mugged. And yet for the entire time, he hasn't gone through that BS... At all. It's almost nice.

He's done his best not to get caught up with the Bats, except for the fucking Red Hood. He tries to stay low, knowing that the Bats—especially Batman—was very strict on his no-kill-rule. Red Hood in the other hand... Unfortunately, he can't escape the bastard if all he wants to do is follow Danny around and gift him the most random shit. But if he's gonna deal with the Red Hood, then he's going to use it for good.

In other words, he was going to let the man feed him with godly food that he'd never been able to have. Danny's a decent cook but the Red Hood was almost godly when it came to cooking.

"You're never gonna leave me alone?" Danny doesn't even turn away from his laptop once he hears Red Hood slip into his apartment, shamelessly crawling through his window. He's so fucking sure there's a bunch of containers in his arms or maybe a reusable bag, but there's a bunch of containers. Filled with food.

"Someone's gotta keep you fed." Red Hood softly hums, passing Danny from where he was sitting on his floor while his dry eyes were watching instruction videos. By this point, Hood might be playing Tetris in his fridge with the containers. (Danny hopes there's chicken in there)

He doesn't move, doesn't want to.

Red Hood pokes his cheek.

Danny grunts in reply.

His cheek is poked again.

He might just bite the guy's hand off.

"Go away."

"Eat and then sleep."

"Perish."

"C'mon now, darling. You gotta take a break or whatever the hell you're studying for will go away."

"I will stab you."

But apparently, Red Hood isn't intimidated by his threats, already picking out one of the containers, heating it up, and then proceeding to make Danny suffer from the scent of something chicken. He's so hungry, he's sleepy, but he has exams! He has deadlines! A part of him wanted this handsome and sexy crime lord to pamper him but he'd drown in that contaminated ecto (Lazarus) than admit it.

And then his laptop is confiscated by a crime lord. Danny suddenly finds himself sitting on the Red Hood's lap and being forced to eat. At least the man isn't feeding Danny himself.

He was just enjoying the chicken casserole, sleepily trying not to stab a fork into his mouth while Red Hood has his hands on Danny's waist, caressing and cooing at him to keep eating.

The next day, he wakes up in his bed, tucked in, and the scent of freshly made coffee from his kitchen.

(God, his siblings are going to make fun of him for this)

Jason likes Danny. He'd actually tell himself that he legitimately adores the tired and unhinged college student. He wants that crazy little shit like he's gonna blow up the world if he doesn't. Because he wasn't just Joker's killer. Danny Fenton unknowingly became Jason Todd's avenger, the one person to actually avenge the second Robin. And he's just...

The infatuation would have been almost selfish, if not for the fact that Jason grew to actually fall for Danny after making sure the young man was okay. He's done his best to keep Danny away from the Bats. He didn't need Batman fucking this up for him.

Danny was so... strange. In a good and endearing way. He was dedicated to his studies, and tried to live his life but helped when he could. He's seen Danny stop by crime alley a couple of times just to help feed the kids, just to hand over blankets and what seemed to be his old clothes that nobody would be wearing. He was kind, and brutal if he wanted to be. Aside from the Joker, Jason had witnessed Danny almost drown a man for trying to kidnap a meta child in the same alley. The bastard was left for dead but survived when someone dragged him out.

Oh, Jason was in love. Horrifically so.

Honestly, he was kinda screwed at this point.

He's pretty happy that he doesn't share a class with Danny. If he did, he might not be able to focus on the lecture knowing that the very thing that calms the pits inside him was so close. The possibility of getting lulled into sleep was pretty high. But their schedules didn't even align and he barely saw Danny on campus. But he'd be lying if he wasn't trying to catch a small glimpse of him.

It's one of those days that he doesn't try looking for Danny when he's got some papers for Lit. But this was different.

Riddler is a maniac, even when he tries to be harmless. Anyone who failed to solve his riddles sometimes got blown up. Gotham U ends up becoming one of his targets. Jason just so happens to be there, waiting, watching, unable to operate out of his suit. The Waynes were not the Bats. They tried not to be to keep their identities face.

He needed to keep everyone away. He needed to keep them safe, even as Jason Todd. Fuck.

Riddles. Riddler liked his riddles, plagued the city with them. Barbara's voice is in his ears immediately, reciting Riddlers gods damned questions.

"I hold dreams cast by the desperate and bold,

My heart is silver, my whispers cold.

I’ve seen generations, yet I do not age,

A quiet witness to joy, love, and rage.

Though rooted in stone, I endlessly flow,

Reflecting the sky and the world below.

Look beneath where wishes sleep,

There lies a secret, dark and deep.

What am I?" Babs' voice is shaky, just a bit before she's hardened steel in seconds.

Jason cursed under his breath, trying to figure out the riddle. They weren't stupid. They've done this before and Nygma's Riddles were hard just for them, especially Tim and Bruce. But even so, Jason was raised by Batman. He could do this.

The words were complex, the poetic nature was irksome. But Jason took just a couple more minutes before he's identifying the answer.

"A fucking fountain. Gotham U has three of those." Jason responds immediately, sucking in a deep breath as he quickly evacuates his classmates and urges them out the building. "East, north, and south."

"Red Robin and Orphan en route to the south fountain. Robin and Nightwing to the east." Oracle quickly says, "Batman to north. Signal and Spoiler are evacuating everyone from the building. Hood, get out of there—now!"

No can do, Babs, he thinks to himself and goes running to the northern part of the campus. Batman can't do shit alone, even if he insists on it. They've learned not to let him.

He arrives before Batman, already rummaging through the fountain for the fucking bomb. If it was beneath the fountain then he'd have to destroy it, but if it was already attached to the water? Shit.

One second later, he's trying to find anything to destroy the cement, and then another passed. Jason is staring at a strange young man, white hair, green eyes—it reminds him of the descriptions of Wraith and Specter that Damian and Dick repeated. He blinks, meeting eyes with the maybe Ghost Hero. He flinched, looking into glowing Lazarus—a purer hue—eyes. "The bombs under the fountain?"

"Uh... Yes!"

The ghost nodded, phasing his hands through the fountain and a second later, he's dragging out a bomb. Fuck, it only had ten seconds to spare. Both of them stared at it, wide eyed as they panic on what to do. But the stranger doesn't seem to pay too much attention and proceeds to swallow the bomb.

"WHAT THE FUCK—"

An explosion—muffled and small—boomed through the courtyard and Jason stared at the smoke and flames covering the ghosts head. A coughing fit is heard through the smoke and the stranger is waving it away, whining about the horrible taste of burnt food.

Lazarus eyes look back at him, blinking before offering Jason a radiant smile. "Sorry about that! I'm Phantom, by the way. Was just passing by when I heard about the bomb." He offers Jason a hand, still smiling.

"Oh, uhm... Any relations to Specter?" Jason immediately asks, trying not to die from his own stupidity. Way to go Jay, immediately interrogating another guy that makes the pits all mushy and warm.

Fuck, fuck fuck. Was he going to fall for everyone that calms the pits? Fuck, he didn't want to cheat on Danny (Jayyoudelusionalidiotyou'renotevendating.)

Phantom tilts his head, before he's laughing loudly. "You've met my little sister?"

"No, but she saved my brother from a kidnapping."

"Is that so?" Phantom smiled, clearly amused. "Well then, I must bid you adieu. I can see that your city's knight has this all handled."

Just then, Batman drops just behind Jason. DAMNIT, B! GO AWAY!

Phantom just glances at Batman, amused before he takes Jason's hand and pressed a light kiss to it. Cold lips pressed against his hand and he's immediately blue screening. Fucking shit, this was the exact same scene he's read in those books about the heroine getting saved by the mysterious man who'd later on be her sexy enemy/lover. FUCK!

Phantom goes back to speak, but all Jason heard were a couple of trills and chirps, a language he couldn't understand but... It felt familiar.

"Ȋ̵̢̨͍̹̺̼̜͉̳͍̮̠̯͙̤͈̥͔̰̤̐͐͜ͅ ̴̡̤͔̪̠̗̤͉͙͓̥̺̗̎͒͒̔̎̑̀̑͜͝w̷̧̖͍̝̹̤̪̞̭͎̞͓̟̪̗̱͕̑̃̃̓̀̔̀̆̋͒͛̂͜ͅi̴̧̢̧̡̡̩̻̗̬̦͉͎̮̠̤̬̪͇̖̦̘͚̟̪̠̠̪̣̪̖͇̤̣̱̪̺̩̘̼͐̇̂̂͛̿̀͗̃͑̔͋̈́̐̽̿́͊̃̄̿̄̊́̔͘̕͜͠͠͝ͅļ̴̨̢̢̨̡̢̫̘͍͉̞̝̙̹̘̜͎̩̟̰̹̙̟͉̳̯̹̫̼͉̬̯̼̪̖̿̒ḷ̸̨̱̫̣̪͖̤̩̖̮̙̋͛͆̓͜ ̴̨̨͉̩͉̠̖̖̫̠̬̥̮̲̦͙̦̜̱̺̠̫̤̫̐̑͂́̇̆̐̋͂̈́͘ş̷̛̘͎̬͙̖̜̞̗̣͍̲̒̎̈͋̄̄͛̑̈́́̌̐́͋̃͑͑̈͛͋́̂̂̂͂̈́̌̄͊͂́̓̆̎͑̕̚͝ȩ̶̛̝̮̳̭̘̪̰͚̗̖̪̤̟͊̃̐͛͆̄̀͊̄̓̒͝͠e̶̽͌��̡̢̧̨̢̨̢̛̞̖̤̲̱̯̘͇̖̹͖̻̱̜̼̹̠͙̺̞͗̿̒̃̍̆̽̓͂͗̽̈́̀͝ͅ ̵̢͚͔̦̹͚̱̝̪̗̽̕͜ỷ̵̛̲̘̟̭̬̩͇͖̮̉͋̑̽͂͛̆͆͂̃͋̀̎̆̑͊̃͛̐́̄̊͗̄̾͋̈́̕͝ỏ̶̖̹̦̭̱͇͔̲̝̜̹̹̗̗̮̪̗̬̥̜͍͉̻̍̍̈́̓͊̍͑́̀̈̇̄̐͐̔͛͌̊̀́̈́̍͑͆͑͒̈́̅̌́̄̉́̇͐̒̈̍̀̎̽͝͠͠͝͝ư̴̢̡͕̯̱̫̗̠̪͓̻̜̪̣̞̟̩͎̗̜̹̯̮̱͎̳̖̹͙̖̬̖͕̙͔̲͊̾͂̓̓̀͆̂̏̀̅̀̉̉͊̈́̅̎̍̇͋̽̿̒̓͐̄͛͊̄̉̽̏͛̋̓͗̍̎̆̒̄̕͘̕͝͝͠ͅ ̷̦̰͈͒̀̆̓̈́͑̂́̇͌̑͒̿̐̈́̅͋̎̄̎͒́̒͒̈́͊͛̚̚͠͝͠͠n̷̢̢̦̟͎͚̹̜̜̞͇̝̲̦̻̩͖̦̮̅̌̔̌͛̅̐̈́̋͌̂͋̈̋̎̈́̈̾̊̊͌̽̿̂̐͆͂̌͐̅́̌̚̚ȩ̵̨̧͔͔̩̭̦͈̪̟͉̦͚̘͚̥̰̰͓͓̤͉̫̳̜̲̲̖̘̜̮̠͉̪̤̤̮̣̫̼͓̦̣̤͖̘̹̉͐͗͆͆̉̐̂̀̄͑͑̄̈̒̀̈̀̀̎͘͜ͅx̶̝̘̼̟̜͎̲̪͎̥̖̠̼̀́̎̔͂͂͐̀̓̓̾̏̅̀̌̐̌̀̑̆̃͝͠ţ̵̢̭̫̫͇̟̣͓̲̦̩͉̞̞̳̬̞̘̙͈͓͈̺̱̮̮̘̠̤͔͍̼̼̳̳̳̦̼̣̼̹͍́͐̍͒͆̎͒͊̊̎͛͑̅̿͂̀̍̎͐́̋͛͗͗́̄͒̾͒͆̏̀̀̽͑͌̓͗̚͝͠͠͠ͅͅͅ ̷̨̧̡̮̝̜̟̠̦̳̼̝̭͖̭͚͎̦͕̦̩̺͓̺͚͈̺̤͋͌̔̏̒̾̓̈̅̃̑̏̓̂̚̚͜͝t̸̛̳̯̻͙̼̳̤͎̦̙̟͌̊͋͐̐͊́̑̈̽̎̎̾͂̓̉͆͗̐̇̏͋̕̚͝͝į̵̡̖̠̝̬̠̲̞̩̼͖̦̺͎͖̺͉̘̦̜̜̬͇̠̗̠̬̥͕̭̙̜̳͕̯͈͔̫̤̝̲̫̥͑̃͋̇̊̈́̍̈̉̑͛̈́͌̓̈̈̀̚͜͝͝͠͠ͅm̸̡͓̦͗͗̉͗̒̈́̂̆̿͒́͆ȩ̷̡͍̙͇̫͖̣͙̝̣̣̻͕͈͍͎̣̹̟͓̲̔̀̎̓͘͘͘͠,̶̢̨̨̧̧̢̖͖̠̲̞̮̘̮͉̩͔̭͕̻̝̤͚̻̭̘͈̮̥͉͎͙̜̭̿̿̆̑͗̌̈̈́͛͋̂̑̆̄̈́͋̈͐̑̍̆͂͆̂̌̍̅͊̍̌̓͘̕͝͝ͅͅ ̷̦̦͚̞̖̖̗̎̋̐́̍̆̾̑̾́͌̔́̀̿̀̓̂͒͐̑̋͊̒̈̕Ȑ̴̢̢͉̟̠͍̲̠e̷̢̡̢̡̡̨̨̢̨̛̝̰̪̠̥̠͓͍͔̗̩̯̺͕̬̮̳͎̩͈̼͕͙̯̟̦̺̣̠̺͔̓̉̈́̈̀͋̂̂̈́̆͑̏̅͌̌̂̓́̐͒̈͒̅͊̀̑̂̿̐̂̒̆̓̂̐͗̚͜͝d̶̢̧̛͇̙̰̺͉͔̼̘̩̟͎̖̪̻͖̥̳̠̣̖͎͈͓̳̯̤̲͔̻̱̝̿̈́̆͛́͛̆̄͛͒̿̈̊̉̈́̆̃̒͋́̽̒͐̀̃̑̂̔̋̈́̍̀̀̐̅̄̇͝͠ ̴̡̡̧̡̟̥̟̝̮̟̘̯̺̳̗͚̮̭͍̘̰̭̹͈͈̱̦͎̝͍̺͎͕̼̝̼̝̦͋̾̏́̐̍͌̍̋͒̕͜͠ͅḨ̵̡̧̧̤͓̖̺̭͕͉̖̝̲̖̙̣̳͚͙͚͇̙̼̻͖̺̼͉͖̞̤̞̝̭̂͐̒̑̓͂̈́́̉̽̇̀́̌͂͑͜ͅͅǫ̶̨̢̳̠̱̻͉̦̳͚̜͓̭̯̳̘͕͎͍͖̟͖̹̞̤̾̂͌̓͗̃̀͗̈́̚��̧̣̖̰͓̙̩͍̻͖̘͚̠͕̗͍̮͙̼͍̪̰ͅõ̸̧̨̡̢̧̡͎̺̭̬̼̱̟̝͔̲̣͖͍̭̜̣͔̠̗͍̯̣̬̮͚̔ͅd̸̡̹̠̹͍̝̜̍̈́̄̇͋̈́́̈́̈̎̎̀̉̍̎̔̋̒͒̔̒̇͐̀̀́͌̊̉̓͌̕.̴̛̛̛̫̹͍̯̟͓̒̀̈́̑̈̏̓͊̽̈́͊͗͒͌͌̏̌̔͌̏́̄͊͒̽̏̏̏͆̅̐͋̐̿̿́̐̈͐͗̊̏̔̚͜͜͝͝"

(Later on, Danny gets one hell of a tongue lashing from his siblings for eating a fucking bomb. At least Red Hood comes to visit with some dessert to make the flavor of bomb go away.)

[scented-morker]

Skz when their overworked idol!gf faints

thank you to the anon that requested this!! it is LONG and idk why I gave so much backstory for all of them, but yolo! 2.3k words, fainting and overworking, a couple mentions of weight loss, worried and stressed skz. I fear this qualifies as angst

Chan

He's plenty familiar with the signs of being overworked

He's been trying to support you in any way possible, sending you meals to the company building and convincing you to get rest

You feel bad about giving the food away to your members and texting him goodnight while still working, but you're just too much of a perfectionist

He's excited to be on music bank at the same time as you because he's been having girlfriend withdrawals bc of how busy you were

So so happy watching you and your group rehearse, fawning over your oversized hoodie and little dance moves

But right as the dance break ends he sees you go down

Is nervous that you tripped, but he's sure you'll get back up fine and he'll just kiss your boo boos later

But then you don't get up, and he sees your members start yelling for help

When he realizes you passed out 🙃

Screw being secretive, he's jumping up onto the stage, taking his hoodie off and using it to prop your head up, interrogating all of your members about the last time you ate and your sleep schedule

He tells your manager that under no circumstances are you performing anytime soon

You're stuck laying in the green room with doctors surrounding you until the show is over and then instead of being sent home, Chan is taking you himself

You WILL BE TAKEN CARE OF, and that is a threat

Spends the next week fawning over you, cooking you meals and cuddling you half to death

"You scared me, angel. Let me take care of you now."

Minho

When I tell you he's pissed

He was so excited when you told him about your multiple stages for the golden disk awards

Until you're at three rehearsals a day along with fittings, photo shoots, and appearances

He loves that you're booked and busy, but not THAT BOOKED

He wakes up to your goodnight and good morning texts only hours apart and he cant think of the last time you were home for dinner

He's sent multiple paragraphs to your manager and emailed your company, to no response

He keeps telling himself he just has to make it through the award show and then everything will calm down

However, the lights going down at the end of your stage aren't dark enough to hide you fainting half way off the stage, and he doesn't even notice when he jumps to his feet

He gets yelled at to sit back down, and he only does so in order to grab his phone and call your manager ten times until they pick up

"Oh my gosh she's fine, stop calling."

"She just fainted on stage. She's not fine. Where are you?"

They don't want to tell him, but he pries the information out of them and soon he's tearing off backstage to find you

He kicks everyone out, and he looks so scary that they actually listen

"I'm sorry," your voice sounds so small, still weak from fainting and worried that he's mad at you

But he just shushes you, sitting down on the couch you're stretched out on and pulling you into him

"It's ok baby. You did so good. My strong girl. Just rest."

You sigh into the crook of his neck and he holds you backstage for the rest of the show, idol image be damned

Changbin

HIS BABY IS MAKING HER SOLO DEBUT

He could not be happier or prouder if he tried

He knows it's a lot of work, especially since you're producing and writing all of the songs yourself

He tells himself that he's overreacting, it's normal to see less of you when you're working on such a big project

But you always feed him with updates and stories about your day

So when he hasn't heard from you in three whole days, he's showing up at your stage rehearsal

He doesn't care what anyone says, he needs to physically see you or he's going to have a heart attack

He's relieved when you walk on stage, because at least you're alive

But it doesn't take very long for him to notice the dark bags under your eyes or the way your hand is shaking around your microphone

The second you hit the ground he's running

A background dancer carries you off stage, and they barely hit the curtain before he's snatching you out of their grasp

He walks with you so gently, sitting down on a couch and cradling you while the nurse takes your vitals

He's the first thing you see when you open your eyes and it squashes all of the fear that had filled your gut about what just happened

"Hi doll." He coos, and you give him a tiny smile

"I missed you"

Once you're cleared he's ordering takeout to his dorm and taking you home

Your performance is postponed because Changbin still hasn't put you down a week later

Hyunjin

He knows how excited you were to be going on tour for the first time, and that reminder has been the only thing getting him through

Every time you're meant to come home your company adds another night or a new leg, and Hyunjin is SICK OF IT

Poor guy has not seen his girlfriend in OVER A MONTH

He loves you so much that he watches clips of every show and performance

And he knows you so well that he notices the hollowness of your cheeks and the way you've started to struggle to keep up your energy on stage

Buys a ticket right then and there to your next show, not trusting anyone else to take care of you

He's standing in the wings as you and your group finish your first set of songs, rushing off stage to change outfits

He legit screams when you go down, and if the fans didn't notice before they definitely did after that

One of your members picks you up and soon there's a flurry of people running around trying to make sure you're ok

The other girls are shooed away to go change, with a manager insisting "the show must go on"

Hyunjin sends the man what is quite possibly the dirtiest look to ever exist

When you come to, your boyfriend is holding onto you for dear life, fighting away any staff member that tries to talk to you or coax you back onto the stage

He takes you back to your changing room and locks the door, feeding you small bites like a child and stroking a hand through your hair

"Don't worry about them, be here now. I got you."

Jisung

He's shocked when you casually mention news of your comeback at lunch together one day

"Aren't you not even done with this promotion yet? How are you already having another comeback?"

You shrug, saying something about your brother group not doing very well revenue wise and your boss wanting to take advantage of your groups current success

Jisung frowns at that, but decides to keep it to himself, surely as your companies main money maker you'll be well taken care of

But then you don't come home after your music bank performance because you have to run to a dance rehearsal

And then you have to cancel date night to re-record an entire song

Jisung shows up at the first sound check for your new comeback, and you happily give him a kiss before heading onto stage with your group

He frowns, worried about how small you felt in his arms and how weak your hold on his hand was

He sees you teeter once, accidentally bumping into another member before fully crashing onto the stage

He feels like he can't breathe watching the girls try to get you up and responsive

Your fans are screaming and there's a paramedic running over

He's holding onto your hand the entire time your vitals are being taken, tears streaming down his face

Once you're cleared he's wrapping you in a blanket and holding onto you like you're made of glass

When you wake up he's promising to never ever let you out of his sight again

"We're becoming a duo. You're never allowed to scare me like that again."

Felix

He is worlds proudest boyfriend

He gets to watch HIS GIRL perform onstage AT COACHELLA

He'd spent the day with you, taking pictures of your festival outfit and reapplying your sunscreen to try and keep you safe while in the middle of the literal desert

You'd kissed him goodbye three hours before your stage was scheduled for, needing time to get ready and have some extra rehearsal time

He isn't sure why considering you'd had rehearsal every day this week while also making interview appearances and flying to different locations in between instead of sleeping

He's trying his best not to worry, but your eyes are looking hollowed and he isn't sure the last time you slept in an actual bed instead of a plan seat

It makes him sad to see you unable to give your best energy during the performance, though you even at 50% was still the most exciting performance of the day

He plans on being backstage when you exit after at least two more encores, but you apologize for no encore tonight and are only halfway off the stage when you go down

Let's out the worlds biggest gasp

He follows right behind the paramedic that carries you off the stage and into the back, refusing to be more than a foot away from you at all times

He calls and cancels the rest of your appearances himself, insisting that you need to be resting

You do not escape his hold or your bed for the next two days

"Just let me take care of you! You deserve some princess treatment right now."

Seungmin

He's so so excited that you're also at lalapalooza bc that means you guys can spend time together even tho you're working!!

You're even an mc, so he gets to stare at you on the screen backstage, which just so happens to be his favorite hobby

He wasn't expecting your group to actually perform considering you'd just finished the Japanese leg of your tour and had been performing every night for the last few weeks

But he sees your stage listed on that days performance list, and he frowns thinking about it

He'd made you tea last night after you'd showed up to his hotel room on the verge of losing your voice, and you were so tense when you laid down that he'd rubbed your back for almost an hour with no difference

"Are you sure you should be performing?" He asks as soon as he enters your changing room

"No, but it's just one more stage and then I get to rot in bed for a while. So I'll be okay."

He still doesn't like it, and he shakes his head but gives you a hug anyways, rubbing a soothing hand down your arm

"You better."

He's so stressed he can't stay in the boys waiting room and he stands under the stage as he watches the lift take you and your group up

He catches a glimpse of your performance from the monitor to his left, and he barely breathes until you're taking your last bows

It isn't until the stage starts moving to bring you back down that he sees you wobble uncertainly before falling onto the ground

All of your members jump in surprise, but they don't even have time to react before he's jumping up with them, the lift not even fully on the ground yet

He picks you up and lays you down on one of the spare blankets backstage, propping your head up against his torso while the rest of your body lays between his legs

His thumb rubs your cheek while the medical team checks you out, clearing you when you become responsive

You blink up at him slowly, eyes shiny from unshed tears

"I guess I was wrong."

He sighs, letting you bury yourself into his chest

"That's okay, I've got you now."

Jeongin

End of the year award shows were no joke, and Jeongin knew you were working hard for your performances

Your group had just finished promoting your last album when the never ending flood of award shows started, and he'd found you knocked out asleep in the most random places the past couple weeks

He hated that your group had such loud antis, because he knew how much pressure you were under to prove yourself

You'd told him about the strenuous dancing you were doing, learning borderline acrobatic tricks while conditioning like you were trainees all over again

He'd done his best to remind you to rest and slip protein bars into every bag you owned, but he knew you were past exhausted

He momentarily forgot his worrying when you were performing, and he let out cheers and danced with the rest of his group while you and your members put on an incredibly challenging performance

But all of the fun was drained out of the air when he saw you go down on stage as soon as the camera zoomed in on your maknae's ending fairy

The lights drop, and Jeongin whips his head around in every direction, trying to think of anything he can do to help

Hyunjin asks him to “go to the bathroom” with him as soon as you’re offstage, and that’s all the clearance Jeongin needs to go running backstage

You’re already awake when he finds you, small tears slipping down your face while you nurse on a water bottle

You can’t even say hi before he’s practically tackling you, pulling you so close that you can feel his own heartbeat in your chest

“Are you okay? Oh my gosh you scared me. Don’t ever do that again.”

Your members leave the two of you be while Jeongin clings to you, refusing to let you go for hours, constantly brushing his hands against your heartbeat

[authorhjk1]

is it possible you make a smut about karina? where you fuck her infront of a mirror as you watch her body bounce as you rail her hard and groping every inch of her body.

P.S i really like your works and your writing is supurb, i hope you continue writing more stories.

I apologize for the long wait. I had to put these two requests together, because I can't keep up with ones I already got and the new ones that are coming in. Hope you guys enjoy it.

Mirror Mirror on the Wall...

(Karina X Hwang Yeji X Male Reader)

You look across the table. Dinner tasted delicious and you also prepared cake for the birthday girl. The older one of the two sisters stares down at the chocolate cake, carefully taking a bite.

It's hard to say you hate her. She is your friend's daughter after all. But you can't help it. You've watched her grow up for more than just a couple of years. You treat both sisters almost the same, but Karina started to become something that you were afraid of. A stuck up, self-centered bitch.

It's a shame actually. But by the way her mother behaves, it's not that big of a surprise. She and your friend are sitting at your table as well. You invited the family of four, because of Karina's birthday. Because you wanted to be polite. Not because you wanted Karina to be around you.

The complete opposite applies to Yeji. The younger one of the two sisters. She has her rebellious side, for sure, but she has always been a sweet sunshine. Even now, her smile lights up your dining room as she takes her first bite of the cake.

"Mmmh. It's so delicious. You are a really great cook."

You crack a smile at Yeji's compliment.

Unable to not compare the two sisters, you notice that Karina hasn't said a word. Not even a thank you. She does eat the cake, which already is something, but she is just as rude as her mother is.

You sigh in disappointment. Your friend should've done better. Of course every parent makes mistakes, but Karina's mother is just on another level. But Yeji still turned out well. You can't get behind it. What exactly went wrong?

"Please let me help."

Yeji smiles at you as she stands up to collect the rest of the plates. She is the only one of your three guests who offered her help. To be fair, her father is currently on a call with his client. Mother and daughter are both busy with their phones it seems.

"Thank you, Yeji."

"I should really come over more often."

Turning around, you see Yeji, who is walking after you into the kitchen.

"Please don't. You are a lot of work."

"Very funny."

She puts down the plates, looks outside the kitchen and looks back at you.

"Who is your favorite? Me or Karina?"

You roll your eyes at her question. A question you've heard more than a thousand times over the last years. From both of them.

"I don't have favourites."

"Oh come on. I know you like me more."

"What would make you think that?"

"You invite me more often than her."

Holding the towel for the dishes in your hand, you throw it at her. The white cloth covers Yeji's face.

"You always come here uninvited. When was the last time I asked you to come?"

Yeji pulls the towel off of her head, pouting at you.

"You invited me for today. Didn't you?"

You turn towards your sink, getting ready to wash the dishes. Your stupid dishwasher broke two days ago.

"I invited all of you. That doesn't count."

Yeji steps next to you.

"You can be really mean sometimes."

"Just honest."

Yeji takes the cleaned plate out of your hand.

The two of you finish washing the dishes in silence. Once you are done, you motion Yeji to sit at the kitchen table.

"Got something as a reward for helping me."

"Really?"

Yeji looks at you with excitement in her eyes.

You open the door of the fridge. The young woman tries to look around you, wanting to know what you are going to give her.

"More cake?"

She smiles brightly as you turn back around.

"Not just any cake."

Grabbing two forks on your way, you sit down in front of Yeji. The cake in the middle.

"It's the cake I got from the publisher for finishing the last book."

"Wow. So that really is the last book of your series?"

You nod.

"I will write more. But I think there is not much more to tell about this one."

Yeji nods in response as well. She puts a piece of cake into her mouth.

"That's delicious."

You shush her.

"Be quiet, or we have to share"

Yeji giggles, before eating some more.

"If it was you last book though, you must've gotten a lot of fan letters and stuff."

"I did."

"Can I check them out?"

"That's kinda private, Yeji. Those people send their letters to me not you."

The young woman pouts.

"Hey, man."

Your friend walks in.

"I have to meet a client. I'm sorry about this, but I have to leave now."

"No problem, mate. I will makes sure the girls get home safely."

"Thank you."

"By dad!"

"Bye sweetie."

He kisses Yeji on the head, before he walks out.

"Well, this makes my original plan way easier."

You raise an eyebrow.

"What plan?"

"Having some alone time with you."

The tone of her voice starts changing. The sweet, innocent girl starts to fade into the background.

"Your sister and your mom are still here."

"Oh please. As if they are going to check on us."

Yeji takes another bite. More slowly this time. And with way more eye contact.

"We shouldn't be doing this with anyone around."

She gets up, walking around the table.

"No one will go into your study without permission."

"But-"

Yeji gracefully takes her seat on your lap.

"Am I right? Daddy?"

The 24 year old kinky college girl has finally found its way to the surface.

Fuck. You just can't resist her.

It happened around three or four years ago, if you remember correctly. Spending a lot of time with you growing up, Yeji naturally started to enjoy the things you enjoy too. One of them being writing. She didn't just enjoy it, she loved it. You helped her improve and let her beta read all your new stuff, before publishing it. You went with her to small classes and even competitions for young writers. It was nice to share something like this with her.

And before you could even realize what was happening, Yeji already graduated. You felt like time flew past way too quickly. But on that day, you found yourself sitting in the school's gym, applauding as she got up to receive her diploma. An honorary mention for being the founder of the school's writing club and being part of a nation wide competition was of course a given.

After only a couple of hours on the day, which should've been one of the best of her life, she stood at your doorstep, looking up at you. Her black hair a mess, puffy red eyes and tears running down her cheeks. Her father always planned for her to work at his company and eventually take over. But she decided to take a different path. The path you took. Or at least a very similar one. After she told him, she already got a scholarship at a local college, her dad wasn't fond of the idea at all. The two of them fought hard that day. The only person Yeji wanted to get comforted by that day was you.

Only a couple of minutes after she arrived and dumped all of this on you, her father called. Your friend was worried about her, since she just ran off and he didn't know where she was. You told him that she was with you and would stay the night. The two of them should have a calm discussion the next day.

Yeji was incredibly thankful and eventually went to the room she always stays in when she sleeps over. After having talked to her for several hours, you wanted to make sure that she was alright one last time, before going to bed yourself. You walked in on her lying on the big bed, her skirt on the floor, her fingers knuckle deep inside of her. The way she moaned your name is the reason why you are here now.

"Fine."

You sigh in defeat, feeling Yeji slightly grind against you.

"Go upstairs. I will tell your mom we are going to write on your project for college."

Yeji suddenly attacks you, pressing her lips against yours. Her tongue aggressively demands entrance into your mouth. The two of you engage into a hot but quick kiss.

"I'll be waiting."

With one last wink and sway of her hips, Yeji is gone.

You clear your throat, before standing up. Everytime you do this, you feel like the greatest sinner on earth. She is your friend's daughter. She is half your age. You were there on her first day of school. It always feels wrong when you think about it. And it always feels wrong afterwards. But if you only glance at Yeji, all that doubt goes out the window.

"Yeji and I are in my study in case you are looking for us. She needs help on her project."

Your friend's wife just nods, while you can see Karina rolling her eyes. You know what she thinks of her younger sister. You wish she could be only half as good as her. From what you've heard from Yeji, Karina likes her own college life. Or rather the boys in it. The stories her younger sister told you makes you think that your friend and his wife raised a self entitled slut.

Opening the big oak doors to your study and library, you see Yeji sitting at your desk.

Her warm smile makes you walk a little faster.

"Come here."

Once you reach her, you grab Yeji's chin, tilting her head upwards to meet yours. The two of you engage in another passionate kiss. While keeping your lips locked, you start to peel Yeji off your chair. You guide her towards the edge of your desk. Yeji hops onto the wooden surface, disconnecting from your lips for only a second.

Her new position enables you to properly run your hands all over her body. She moans into your mouth as she feels you exploring every inch of her.

"(Y/n)."

Yeji sighs your name, feeling one of your hands on her ass, while the other dips underneath her top. Your reach upwards, until you find her chest. Squeezing her tits over her bra makes Yeji moan again.

She eventually brakes away due to the lack of air. She smiles back up at you, excitement sparkling in her eyes.

"Let me give you head."

Yeji slides off the edge of the desk, landing between your legs on her knees. You have to bite your lip as you watch Yeji unbuckle your belt.

"It has been so long since last time."

You chuckle at her eagerness as she pulls down your pants. Your cock springs free, landing on her beautiful face.

"Wow."

She gasps, like she does everytime.

You rub your cock all over her face. Yeji closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling of your cock.

You never met someone who was this passionate about worshipping your cock. But Yeji is one of a kind. She was more eager than skilled at first. But you've trained your friend's daughter to be your personal slut. One would never see Yeji as that, when they would meet her on the street. But she can be a naughty little devil in your ear. Especially when her family comes over, or you visit them. She always tries to sneak off with you. Just like right now.

Yeji starts to suck you off in your study. Her eyes are still closed in bliss as she savors the taste of your cock. Her blowjob becomes more messy by the second. Soon, she is almost drooling on your cock. You take a fistful of her gorgeous orange hair and you start to thrust into her mouth. Yeji moans, opening her mouth as wide as possible, relaxing her throat.

"Damn, princess."

You've always called her and her sister that. But since the two of you started having sex, this nickname has a another layer to it. A dirty one at that. Because right now, Yeji doesn't look like a princess at all. She is on her knees, drooling spit onto your cock, her thighs and the floor. Your dick starts to hit the back of her throat as you begin to thrust into her harder. Soon, only the sounds of her gags fill your study. It's a beautiful melody. One that you would love to hear every day.

Yeji takes your mouth fucking like the good girl she has been raised to be. No complaining, no dirty look, not even the hint of a struggle. She seems to be in her element.

You unfortunately don't have the stamina to keep up the pace for too long. Eventually, you have to slow down, enabling Yeji to take a proper breath through her nose. Spit is covering her chin by now. You keep thrusting into her mouth. Slow, but still with purpose. But Yeji's eyes slowly start to turn dark with lust. Signaling you that she can only hold out this long without getting touched.

After a while, you finally pull out of her completely. A tear is rolling down her cheek, which she scoops up with the back of one of her fingers. Yeji takes a moment to catch her breath properly.

"B-Bend me over."

Her voice sounds raspy and dry. Which is odd, because there is spit covering everything. Her chin, lips, shirt, thighs and the floor too.

"Your manners, Yeji."

You're reminded how often you said that years ago. When you had important visitors and the two sisters stayed at yours over the weekend.

"Sorry. Please, daddy?"

She pouts cutely. Like she always does, when she wants something.

"We still have to be quick though."

Luckily, you always keep your desk clean. Quickly putting your laptop to the side, you turn Yeji around afterwards.

"Daddy..."

She moans as she feels your hand pressing against her back, making her bend over the wooden surface. Since your desk is quite high and quite big, Yeji can barely hold onto the edge on the other side. And she has to lift her feet off the ground, if she wants to do so. Only her tiptoes stay in contact with your wooden floor.

You reach around her, quickly unbuttoning her white pants, pulling them off of her.

"You came prepared, I see."

The lack of underwear has an obvious meaning. Yeji wiggles her butt at you, tempting you to just enter her immediately.

"Just for you, daddy."

Everytime she calls you that, you can't help but think about how wrong this all is. She could be your own daughter. Buth there she is, bend over your desk, telling you what she wants you to do to her.

"Can you please fuck me now? I've waited the whole day for this. I need it..."

Yeji sighs in desperation, her cheek resting on the dark wood.

You stand behind her, aligning your cock with her wet folds. You can see them glistening, when you pull her cheeks apart a little.

"Fuck, Yeji."

You can't believe how beautiful she is. How good her body looks. You wait for just a little longer, making Yeji squirm in anticipation, before you finally push inside of her.

"Oh god!"

A deep moan echoes through your study as you part Yeji's walls. Her tight pussy is dripping wet, making it easy for you to slide into her completely. You wonder, how she is so turned on. Because of you? Because you're her dad's friend? Because she has been waiting for this all day?

You are not sure. But you can say that this makes up for all the bad attitude her sister threw in your direction today.

Soon, you find yourself indulging in the pleasure that you take from Yeji's young and tight body. Every part of her seems to be made with perfection. You can't help but let your free hand roam her body. The other one is holding her waist as you keep thrusting into her.

Reaching under her shirt, you grope her breasts. A string of moans escapes her mouth. One louder and dirtier than the previous one.

"Harder, daddy! Please!"

You finally give into her begging. You know, if you fuck her harder, you won't be able to keep your orgasm off for much longer. And you still want to enjoy more of her body.

"Get on the desk."

Yeji takes a moment to comprehend what you just said. But she eventually manages to peel herself off your desk. You turn her around and push her back on it. Now on her back, Yeji looks up at you as you start thrusting into her again.

"Yes, daddy!"

You reach forward, bunching her shirt up over her tits. You push the bra up as well, finally revealing her small perky tits. Your other hand is holding onto one of her luscious thighs. Fingers digging into her soft skin.

"Keep going..."

Yeji slowly starts to lose the ability to speak. Her words start to turn into letters loosely strung together. It tells you that she isn't far away from her own climax.

You play with her tits, kneading them and pinching a nipple occasionally.

"Oh..."

She tries to say something again, but your strong thrusts make her eyes roll back. Her head, just like her back, is rubbing against the wooden surface of the desk in the rhythm of your pounding.

Your own desire for release starts to overwhelm you. The sight of Yeji, squirming and moaning on the desk she used to sit on and watch you write a cute story for her, makes you want to ruin her completely. Both of your hands are now holding onto her full thighs, enabling you to pull her back into you way harder than before.

The sound of your skin hitting hers echo through your study, accompanied by the young girl's moans.

"Daddy! Cuming!"

Yeji cries out as the pleasure finally proves too much for her. Her body shakes atop your desk as her orgasm overwhelms her. You don't slow down, pounding her through her high as you chase your own. Yeji's body often has that affect on you. That desire to completely wreck her, leaving her a whining, dirty mess.

"Ohhh..."

Yeji's drawn out mix of moan and cry sounds like music to your ears. Her pussy contracts around you at the same time, demanding that you cum inside.

"Princess..."

You groan, realizing that you don't know if this is a safe day for her or not. You want to fill Yeji with your cum, but you don't want to knock up your friend's daughter. Yeji is too far gone to care at the moment. Her body keeps squirming on the wooden surface, moans leaving her body in irregular intervals. You try to hold on for longer, but you eventually can't stop yourself.

With the last ounce of strength you have left, you regretfully leave Yeji's snug hole. As you pull out, that last squeeze of Yeji's inner walls makes you explode. You shoot your load all over her body. Her midriff is the first thing that's covered in your cum. Her chest quickly follows as strings of your semen hit her tits.

You feel your legs weaken as you calm down yourself, taking in the view in front of you. Yeji lies on the desk, her eyes still partially closed. A light smile plays around her lips as her heavy breath makes her chest heave. Her upper body is painted with your cum as she just lies there. Like a beautiful painting. A piece of art.

You walk down the hallway, heading for the bathroom. Yeji kept you busy with her project after the two of you had some fun. She does need to finish it soon, which means you didn't lie earlier. You are really helping her.

Opening the door to the bathroom, you suddenly stop moving. You look at Karina, who is standing in the middle of the room.

You notice her phone, which is standing on the sink, leaning against the lower part of your mirror. Karina isn't just taking a normal picture. She has hooked a finger inside her cleavage and is pulling the hem of her dress down. Despite looking at her from the side, you can see her breasts, almost completely exposed, through the mirror.

"Karina. What the hell are you doing?"

You see the young girl jumping, when she hears your voice. She looks at you as she takes her hand off her dress, letting it fall back into place. You see her roll her eyes before answering.

"Nothing."

"This doesn't look like nothing to me."

"Whatever."

Despite her disgusting attitude, Karina is still your friend's daughter and Yeji's sister. You still care for her. You glance at her phone, before looking back at her.

"Were you taking pictures of yourself?"

"So what?"

She reaches for the phone.

"Are you sending them to someone?"

"Not your business."

You hold back the desire to just give her a small clap on the head. Just a really small one.

"Karina, you shouldn't send this to anyone, whom you don't trust."

"I can do what I want."

You nod.

"That's true. I'm just saying, please be aware of the consequences."

"Stop annoying me already."

Karina is obviously checking the photos she took, while you are still trying to talk to her.

"I wouldn't need to annoy you, if you wouldn't act like this."

She raises an eye brow, but keeps looking at her phone.

"You can't tell me what to do."

Karina places the phone back on the sink. She goes through her hair, looking at the mirror. She hasn't even looked at you properly yet since you came in. It makes your blood boil even more.

"Actually, I can. This is my house. Plus, I'm your godfather."

"Oh no, I'm scared."

You watch as she bites on her nail and winks at the phone. You hear it taking a picture. She probably used a timer or something.

You take a deep breath.

"Get out."

She keeps going as if she didn't hear you. When she is about to pull the top of her dress down again, you stop her by grabbing her arm.

"I. Said. Get out."

You speak through your teeth, trying to stay calm. You pull her towards the door.

"Ouch. Stop it!"

Karina uses both hands to push you away. You let go, expecting her to get her phone and walk out on her own. Your eyes widen when you see her standing in front of the mirror again, hooking a thumb underneath one of the straps on her shoulders, smiling at the phone.

"You can wait outside, you know."

You were already annoyed by her attitude during the meal earlier. Her manners are pretty much non existent. You managed to hold yourself back. And Yeji did an incredible job to make up for her older sister's behavior. But there is only so much you can take. If Karina was a couple of years younger, you would've just picked her up and carried her out. You used to do that, when she was being a brat at an younger age.

"Karina."

You realize your tone has become threatening. You reach out for her shoulder, wanting to stop her from letting the strap fall off of it. She swats your hand away. It lands in her hair. And before you can even think about it. You've already taken a fistful.

"One last time. Get. Out."

You growl into her ear.

"Let me go!"

She tries to push you away again, but this time you stay steady.

"Stop it. You know I'm stronger than you."

"I'm gonna tell dad!"

"So what? You think he is gonna like the fact you take this kind of pictures of yourself?

Karina winces as you tug at her hair a little too hard.

"Leave me alone you ass!"

She finally reached the limit. She broke the last wall of self restraint you had left.

You push her against the sink, slightly bending her over it. The both of you stare at each other in the mirror. She finally looks at you properly.

"Stop being a rude bitch first."

The words left your mouth before you could think about them. You planned on saying something different. They just came out. You almost expect Karina to cry, when you see her eyes grow wide.

"Fuck you!"

You were wrong.

Karina reaches behind her with one hand to push you away. The other holds onto the sink.

"No. Fuck you. You have no manners at all."

"So what, huh!?"

She glares at you through the mirror, slightly raising her chin.

"Apologize and behave properly. Or this will have consequences."

You used to say that line when the two sisters were younger. It always worked. You were like a fun uncle for them. Whenever you became this serious, they knew they did something wrong.

But now, Karina just scoffs.

"I'm not ten anymore. What are you gonna do? Punish me?"

"I will."

"Oh, please. I'm a grown woman. I can do what I want."

"Not under my roof."

You point at her phone.

"Delete the pictures you took and go downstairs."

"No."

"Karina..."

You growl, pushing her forward with your hand on the back of her head. She stumbles against the sink.

"Delete them."

"No."

Karina crosses her arms and glares at you, once she has regained her composure. You reach for it yourself. She tries to stop you, but you are too strong for her.

"Give it back!"

You take a step back and hold her in place. Since your arms are longer than hers, Karina can't reach for her phone.

You delete the first to pictures without even looking at them. But when you see more and more of them, you start to realize how sexy she looks in them.

What she lacks in manners and attitude, she seems to make up for with her body. You can't deny the fact that Karina's beauty rivals her sister's.

Once you are done, you look at her again.

"Did you seriously just delete all of them?"

Karina asks with disbelief in her voice.

"Yes. Now, get out."

"No. I need some content for this weekend. You just deleted like twenty pictures or something."

"What content?"

You furrow your eye brows.

"None of your business. Give me my phone back."

You ignore her outstretched hand, quickly scanning through the apps on her phone. You see a white icon with a blue O on it. You realize what she is doing.

"Are you serious?"

"What?"

You show her what you found.

"So? I need to pay my bills somehow."

"Does your father know about this?"

"Don't you dare."

Karina glares at you.

"Oh trust me. I will tell him."

"No way."

Now she finally looks a little concerned.

"Karina, you shouldn't be doing this. Just because you look nice, doesn't mean you have to sell your body for some money."

"You think I look nice?"

She mockingly raises and eyebrow.

"That's wasn't my point Karina."

"Come on, you can be honest. Do you know how much guys pay me for these pictures?"

"I don't give a fuck."

"But I do. If you are gonna tell on me, I'm gonna tell on you too."

"I'm a grown man and your dad's friend. What could you possible know about me that would be worth his time?"

"Hmm, I don't know. Maybe the fact his best friend rails his daughter on a regular basis?"

"What?"

You are too surprised to hide it. You and Yeji made sure that no one would find out. You were always careful. How...?

"See? Seems like I do have something of value."

"How do you know?"

"Me and Yeji share a dorm at college. Whenever she doesn't see you for longer than a week, she plays with herself, when she thinks I'm asleep. I can't believe she calls you daddy."

You close your eyes in disbelief. Yeji... Why does she have to be so fucking horny all the time?

"Fine. Alright. I won't tell on you. You won't tell on me."

A sly, victorious smile plays around Karina's lips.

"Deal."

"That doesn't change the fact that you are rude all the time."

"I'm not rude."

It's your turn to raise an eyebrow.

"I have my reasons."

You let go of her hair earlier. She crosses her arms in front of her, looking away.

"I don't care what your reasons are. So leave."

You gesture towards the door.

Karina doesn't move.

"You deleted all the pictures. I need new ones."

"I still don't like what you are doing. Leave."

She shakes her head.

"Help me with this."

You realize that your argument isn't flawless.

"You're my friend's daughter. No way."

"Seriously? You creampie my sister, but you don't want to fuck me?"

How are you going to get out of this?

"I'm not shooting a movie here or something. If you want someone to fuck you on camera, find a pornstar or something."

Karina rolls her eyes.

"That's where you draw the line?"

"Karina..."

She ignores you, taking the phone out of your hand.

"You don't need to do anything but fuck me. Shouldn't be that hard."

She sets the camera to record, before placing it back on the sink.

You think about it for a moment. It really isn't that hard. You are fucking Yeji already. So why not go all the way? It's not like she is gonna tell her dad.

Karina leans over the sink, looking back at you over her shoulder.

"Give it to me. Daddy."

That last word makes you jump into action.

It sounds so much different to when Yeji says it. The younger one uses more affection. Whenever she says it, you feel like she would do anything for you. Or rather your cock.

When Karina says it, it's sounds more lustful. Maybe even slightly condescending.

Yeji is the good girl, while Karina is the bad one.

You quickly unbuckle your belt and let your pants drop to the floor. Karina watches you through the mirror as you reach for the hem of her dress.

She glances at the phone, when she feels you pushing her dress up. You reveal her ass. Slightly bigger than Yeji's. You can't help but compare. Your hands wander over her skin. The same thrill you feel whenever you have sex with Yeji enters your body. The thrill of doing something forbidden. The fact that she is filming this makes it even hotter, now that you think about it.

"Don't tease me, daddy."

A knowing smile plays on Karina's lips.

You align your cock with her entrance. Her wet folds make it easy to slip inside. It seems like taking the pictures earlier turned her on.

"Damn, daddy."

Karina breaths heavily as you push inside. For some illogic reason you expected her to be not as tight as Yeji. You are proven wrong.

"Fuck you are tight."

You can't help but give her ass a rewarding spank.

"That's right daddy. Punish me for being such a slut."

You slap her again and again with every inch you push further into her. Karina moans whenever you do so. Her body is being pushed forward with every slap. Her ass cheeks jiggle deliciously.

Once you bottom out inside of her, you look at Karina in the mirror. Her half lid eyes stare back at you. She is biting her lip, trying to contain a loud moan.

You place both your hands on her waist, pushing down a little. Karina's back arches as a result, enabling you to push just a little bit further.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck."

It seems like you've reached her limit. Karina hisses as she tries to get accustomed to your cock.

"If I had known you are this big..."

She isn't able to finish her sentence, when you pull out of her.

You watch Karina's eyes roll back as your cock rubs against the length of her inner walls.

"Don't give me all the credit."

You chuckle as you push back inside.

"Fuck."

Another moan escapes Karina's lips.

"Am I tighter than my sister?"

A question you've never even dreamed of hearing. One so dirty, you never thought one of them would be able to say it.

"You are."

Your honest answer makes her smirk. You wipe it off her face a moment later. Because you start fucking her properly now.

"Holy shit."

Karina watches as you thrust into her again and again. Your hips snap against hers, making the sounds echo through the bathroom. She tries to silence herself once again by biting her lip, but your thrusts prove to be too much for her. Eventually, her mouth hangs open, lewd sounds coming from the deepest parts of her throat.

Your eyes, which were focused on her face, are now slowly wandering downwards. You get captivated by the way her tits move, while you fuck her. Reaching forward with one hand, you grope Karina's boobs over her dress.

They are bigger than Yeji's. You don't have to touch her to know it. It's obvious.

"You like mine more than my sister's. Right?"

Karina manages to ask another question like this.

"I would like you more if you would just shut up."

Another grin flashes across her face.

"If I'm still talking, you are just not fucking me hard enough."

You take it as a challenge. With one hand now in her hair and the other on her waist, you start to fuck Karina harder and faster. You push her against the sink with every thrust into her. A red line where she hits the sink appears on her skin.

"Look at yourself. Getting fucked in someone else's bathroom like a whore."

You don't know where these words came from. This situation, Karina herself, makes you do things you never thought of doing. You pull at her hair, forcing her to lift her head, which dropped between her shoulders earlier.

Karina's wide eyes stare at you as you take her from behind. Her tight walls squeeze you and try to stop you from leaving, whenever you pull back.

"Mmh, yes."

Karina moans, some spit falling out of her mouth in the process. She starts to lose her composure as you hit just the right spot with every single thrust. Her and Yeji's body feel similar to you. You can tell where her sensitive spots might be and you stimulate them properly, making a squirming mess out of the young woman.

You move your hand from her waist to her shoulders, quickly pulling the straps of her dress off. The upper half slips down her body, until the whole dress is bunched up right above her waist.

Karina's tits sway from side to side as you pound her from behind. You take one of them into your hand, squeezing it and earning another deep moan.

By now, you think Karina has forgotten about her phone. She seems to let herself go, submitting to your thrusts. Your hand keeps exploring her voluptuous chest, squeezing her tits and tugging at her nipples randomly.

Your cock in her pussy keeps hitting just the right spots. The combination of your pounding and your groping has Karina moaning and shivering. She watches herself getting fucked. It's something she starts to enjoy very much. Her pussy tightens even more around you in response.

You let your hand explore more of her body, while the other one keeps her head in place by holding her hair. You admire her collarbone and shoulders for a moment, before quickly moving past her chest. You feel the toned muscles of her stomach underneath your palm. As you keep fucking her and your hand moves further down, you could swear you can feel your cock through her belly.

You press against the spot and suddenly, Karina starts to shake more, her pussy squeezing you tighter.

"Daddy, fuck!"

It's the last words she manages to force out. From that moment onwards, Karina is a mumbling mess. You can't tell what she is trying to say. Her lips quiver uncontrollably. Her pussy is almost painfully tight as you feel more and more of her fluids leaking out of her.

Eventually, your hand reaches her clit. You start rubbing it, encouraging her with your fingers to cum on your cock. Karina's closed eyes shoot open. Saliva still drips from her parted lips.

"Ohhhh!"

A loud cry is the only thing she can do to announce her orgasm. Karina watches herself climaxing. She sees how her body twitches and squirms. How her muscles on her midriff seem to flex. She feels her own pussy tightening around your cock, contracting uncontrollably. Her arms and legs grow weak.

You keep fucking Karina through her orgasm. She can't do anything but take it. She can't tell you to stop. She tries to watch herself as long as possible. But when you somehow drive yourself into the deepest depths of her vagina, Karina's eyes roll to the back of her head. She sees stars, her mind eventually breaking from the pleasure.

You feel yourself chasing your own orgasm as you watch your friend's daughter through the mirror. Her breath has left fog on the glass. Only now do you realize her hands don't rest on the sink anymore. They are pressed against the surface of the mirror.

The sight of Karina like this slowly makes you reach your high.

"Fuck, Karina. Your pussy is gonna milk me dry."

You manage to push out the words as you try to hang on as long as possible. Her tight snatch keeps squeezing your cock, making it harder for you to properly fuck her like before.

"Let me taste your cum, daddy. I need it."

Karina's eyes reflect her desire and need for your cum. She almost unconsciously licks her lips.

You count to ten, trying to stay as long as possible inside of her. You want to savor every last second of her tight pussy wrapped around your cock.

But you have to pull out eventually. You leave the snug tightness of her snatch.

"Come here."

Karina drops to the tile covered floor, kneeling in front of you.

Just like you held Yeji an hour ago, you grab Karina's chin. But not to kiss her. You make her crawl towards the glass wall of your shower.

You press her cheek against it, signaling her to stay like this. The sight quickly makes you cum.

You start to shoot your load all over Karina's face. You paint her skin with your cum. She looked almost cute a moment ago. Now, she looks like a cheap whore.

"Fuck, that tastes good."

Karina is sucking her finger clean, after having scooped up some of your cum. You can't believe you came on both of your friend's daughters within two hours.

The older of the two now looks up at you, her tongue cleaning the cum off her face around her mouth.

"Would you like to become my partner for my content? You would get a cut off the profit."

"Karina-"

"You think we can convince Yeji to join us?"

"I don't think we should-"

"I think people are gonna be willing to pay if they know the two of us are actual sisters."

It feels like you are drowning in sin. It's bad enough you had sex with one of your friend's daughters more times than you could count. You now managed to fuck the older sister as well. And now she wants you to help her make money by filming you, fucking her and her sister?

"This isn't right Karina."

You try to do the right thing. But that ship has kinda sailed already. And you can't deny that a threesome with the two sisters would be mind blowing.

"Come on, daddy. You can do with me what you want. As long as we film it. And I'm pretty sure you are already using Yeji like a sex toy anyway."

[alchemistc]

Tommy has a bad date and goes to visit Abby at her loft, only shocker, Abby left months ago and The Himbo is staring at him from the other side of the door.

He tips his chin. Raises an eyebrow. Scans down, back up, just in time to meet the kids eyes.

"U - uh hi?"

He gets it immediately. What would have drawn Abby in despite the age difference, despite the knowledge that all her friends and family were gonna give her shit, despite -

Well. He's fucking adorable, for a start. Bright bright blues eyes that look like maybe they're always a little wet, the foundation for a really great muscle base, even though he clearly hasn't figured out how to balance cardio and weight lifting, pink full lips, an adorably puppy-dog slash to his face, legs for fucking days. God. Yeah okay. Tommy'd been younger than Abby too but not this young.

"Is Abby home?"

Something strange crosses his face. Confusion, upset, maybe some genuine pain. He shakes his head, opens his mouth. Snaps it shut. Tommy's had a shitty night and honestly for a second he thinks making the look on this kids face go away for a few minutes would fix him.

"Patricia?" Tommy asks, because maybe at least Pat will be lucid enough to sit and with him and mope to the tune of whatever's on Hallmark.

The kid swallows, brows knitting together. "She uh. She passed. A - a few months ago now."

Tommy has to dig his nails into his palms to keep himself from being rude as hell. Sure, things with Abby hadn't ended great but Christ he'd loved Patricia. She could have at least sent him a fucking pigeon. Smoke signals. Something. It's not this kids fault though.

"And Abby ...?"

This kid doesn't know him from Adam. He'd have every right to kick Tommy off the welcome mat and shut the door. Something sad and vulnerable crosses his face. "Are you Tommy?"

Tommy's brow jumps. His posture shifts. "Cross my heart I'm not here to steal her back from you." He doesn't know what Abby's told people. He'd promised he wouldn't do what he'd done to her to another person and left it at that. They'd been together for years and Tommy honestly doesn't know if she'd go the bitter route and tell everyone, or if she'd be ashamed and hide it.

The kid laughs, watches Tommy's fingers make an x over his left pec. The face falls after a moment. "I - uh - I actually don't think she's coming back," he says, choked up just a bit, rising inflection on the end of his sentence. The wet eyes look a little watery now. "S -she went to find herself after her mom died and I don't think - I don't think I'm gonna be a part of whatever she finds."

Yeah. Fixing him will definitely make Tommy forget how terrible his date with Frank had been.

"Can I buy you a drink, kid?"

He blinks. Swallows. Does a piss poor job of hiding the way he's feeling, and Tommy wishes he remembered how to be so open. "Evan. Buck. I - Evan Buckley."

Tommy nods. Grins. "Kind of a mouthful. You mind if I just call you Evan?"

Something passes across his face. He takes a step back. "Uh - if you're serious, I would - that'd be - I just have to grab my wallet?"

Tommy shrugs. He'd offered to pay, but it's entirely possible he still gets carded at bars. "I've got time."

Evan opens the door wider. Gestures him in. Tommy passes the threshold and takes in the space. It looks fucking exactly the same. Evan hasn't made a mark on this place at all.

Tommy's got no room to resent Abby, but if he did...

Evan reappears in record time. He's changed his shirt.

Tommy is absolutely not going to read into that.

"You like craft beer, Evan?"

Evan pulls a face, and Tommy laughs, letting himself be ushered right back out the door. His keyring, Tommy notices, only has a house key and a car key.

Tommy slaps him on the back. "Fine, I won't subject you to my refined palette. I know a place that has a PB&J special."

Evan's stride is fucking ridiculous, as he keeps an easy pace with Tommy down the hall. He turns his face, his body, fully into the space Tommy occupies. Tommy's just waiting for him to trip over his own goddamn legs. "W-what uh - what's a PB&J?"

He already looks brighter than he had five minutes ago.

If Tommy were a shittier person, he'd spend the night trying to to get straight into his pants.

"Pabst and a shot of Jameson?"

He blinks. "Oh. Hey, that's clever. Sorry, when I bartended all the drinks were either in Spanish or some hokey touristy lingo. I mean I memorized like a thousand drinks but no one ever ordered them."

He's honest to god pouting as he says it. Tommy wants to bite that bottom lip.

He babbles all the way down the elevator, across the parking garage to Tommy's truck. Doesn't even pretend to make a fuss about driving separately. Tommy's a virtual fucking stranger and Evan just hops right in the passenger side and asks him about his license plate.

"No shit? I'm at the 118!" Evan says, and Tommy forces himself not to make the joke about stranger danger he'd been planning. That's an awful coincidence, unless it's not. Maybe a few drinks in he'll feel a little less tight lipped about the Abby of it all. Maybe this kid will do just as good a job of patching Tommy's night as Tommy plans to patch his.

He barely stops to breathe the short drive to the bar, and Tommy can already tell he's in way over his fucking head.

After he drops him off, tucks him into bed if he needs it, he's pretty sure he's gonna have some choice words for Abby.

Until then, he's gonna spend the next few hours doing everything he possibly can to keep the sad look off his face.

[thinkinonsense]

TALK, TALK₊˚⊹ ʚɞ

logan howlett x mutant!reader

cw: fluff, sweet logan

a/n: inspired by the charli xcx song<3 everything in spanish and french is from google translate so if it's incorrect, that why.

you were no stranger to crushes. they always showed up out of the blue; you couldn't help it. all it took was one glance, a smile, a bit of small talk, anything really. none of this changed when he entered your life.

maybe cupid had struck you in the ass at some point.

for weeks, everyone in the mansion knew where your feelings had floated. normally, you try not to develop any crushes on the people you see daily but this guy was different. even sort of dangerous; the thrill excited you.

"you don't understand, storm." you groan, helping her train downstairs. "there's just something about him. i can't explain it."

your dear friend laughs, swinging at the boxing bag again. "i'm not saying not to go after him... just be careful is all."

"well, there's nothing to worry about because he hasn't even talked to me." a small sigh escapes you.

"he hasn't talked to you?" she questions. you shake your head. "that's odd. i wonder why not?"

"well, he keeps to himself." you shrug, thinking of excuses besides the fact that he likely doesn't share the same feelings you do.

"hm... have you tried talking to him?"

"nooo." you giggle nervously. "absolutely not! you know how i get when i actually have to talk to people i have crushes on."

"i know." storm joins in on your laughter. "it's like someone set you on top of a stove; you just start melting."

"it all comes out like, 'blah, blah, blah'."

"you never know, maybe he speaks 'blah, blah, blah' too."

little did storm know that her words would linger around in your head every time you see him.

₊˚⊹ ʚɞ

obliviousness was not a trait logan had. he noticed everything; whether he liked it or not. in this case, he didn't mind noticing everything about you.

it started when he saw a shadow following him to the cafeteria, down the hall, and to the training room. he tried to be polite and ignore it; too afraid to scare you off entirely.

a couple days after your talk with storm, charles sent the older mutants out on a mission. this included storm, scott, logan, and yourself. upon the return, all of the older mutants gathered in the kitchen to unwind. you, storm, and kurt sat together at the table. the two of them bickered back and forth about something silly that happened during the mission.

it wasn't fair how good logan looked during the mission. the tight black spandex did wonders for his form. it felt like some high school crush. butterfly's always in your stomach when he looks at you.

on the other side of the room, logan sat in a wooden chair next to hank, with a cigar dangling from his lips. it must've felt like you were burning holes into the side of his head. even storm had to nudge you to look away from him, telling you to stop giving him 'heart eyes'.

"think someone's got a crush on you, pal." hank teases logan. "heard she's been waiting for you to talk to her."

you looked pretty, sitting at the table with a slight red stain on the inside of your lips, matching the flush of red on your cheeks when you notice him catching you staring. logan couldn't think of anything that compare to the ethereal sight before him.

₊˚⊹ ʚɞ

the glass of red wine on your hand was now empty, allowing you to excuse yourself from their conversation for a moment. at the counter, you pour yourself another glass; finishing off the bottle. when you turn to toss the bottle in the trash, you bump into someone.

"s-sorry." you squeal before realizing that it was logan that you bumped into.

"no need to apologize." he assures.

one of logan's big wide palms places itself on your waist, helping keep you upright. all of the wine flooded your mind, unable to form a proper sentence.

"dios mío, eres tan hermoso." you ramble drunkenly shooting stars from your eyes.

*oh my god, you're so gorgeous.

logan couldn't be more confused by your suddenly language switch but he found it awfully amusing. it wasn't a total surprise, he knew you were incredibly intelligent. charles always sang your praises. if you were even a little bit sober right now, you would be mortified.

"whatcha' thinking about, sweetheart?" he smirks, loving how flustered you became.

little did you know, the 200 year old mutant has definitely picked up on some different languages over his lifetime. to logan it didn't even matter whether or not he understood what you meant, he just wanted you to keep talking.

"je veux embrasser ton joli visage." your tongue runs over your bottom lip.

*wanna kiss your pretty face.

"hm... tell me more." logan purrs into your ear. completely forgetting about everyone else in the room.

"he estado enamorado de ti durante meses, ¿sabes?"

*i've had a crush on you for months, you know?

"je pense à toi tous les jours." you step closer, drunk with confidence. "pendant les entraînements, en mission, seule au lit... tout le temps."

*i think about you everyday. during training, on missions, alone in bed... all the time.

"such a smart girl, aren't 'cha, honey?" he groans softly at your words.

it took everything in logan not to kiss you right here, right now. he wanted you to remember the first time he kissed you.

"je veux être ta copine, logan." you whisper in his ear.

*wanna be your girl, logan.

"¿puedes guardar mi secreto?"

*can you keep my secret?

he never wanted you to stop talking; loving every word that falls from your foreign lips.

it wasn't long until storm, pulls you away hoping she caught you before you said anything you would regret. logan didn't mind, too excited to see you in the morning.

₊˚⊹ ʚɞ

when you woke up, your head was pounding. nothing worse than a wine hangover. you couldn't remember anything after jean poured you a third glass of wine. you took two aspirins and laid in bed for an extra hour before you finally made it downstairs for breakfast.

logan smelled your lavender scented shampoo the second you stepped out of your room. he had been downstairs waiting for you. everyone had already started their day, off either teaching or training. not him though, he had different plans for his day.

"morning." logan said to you as you walked into the kitchen. your heart fluttered, he could hear it.

"good morning." you reply meekly as you grab a plate and some utensils.

he sips on his plain black coffee while you place two waffles and some fruit onto your plate. theres a small stack of books next to logan on the table but you don't give it a second glance.

"wanna sit?" he asks you.

this was a completely different side of logan compared to the usually grumpy version of him that everyone sees.

"sure."

"did you have fun last night?"

he needed to test the waters on what you remember. by the late arrival to breakfast, logan's guess was not much.

"would you believe me if i said that i can't remember much?" you giggle nervously as you bite into a strawberry. "i was probably being boring in some corner."

you couldn't have been more wrong, logan thinks to himself. the two of you have some small talk for a while, enjoying each others company. this wasn't helping your crush from spreading.

once you cleared your plate and logan finished his coffee, both of you get up to place your dishes into the sink when you noticed the books in logan's hands. one spine read 'beginners guide to french' and the other read 'spanish for dummies'.

in a flash, everything came hurtling back at you full speed. this wasn't yours and logan's first conversation alone together.

"¿Qué pasa cariño?" logan asks, voice filled with desire as he cages you against the sink. his lips ghosted over your own; tempting you beyond your strengths. "je pensais que tu voulais que je te parle ?"

*what's wrong, sweetheart?

*i thought you wanted me to talk to you?

"et merde." you whisper before pulling on the collar of his flannel, smashing his lips into yours.

*fuck it.

the sheer taste of the other drove both of you insane. the mix of logan's coffee and tobacco contrasting with your sweet syrup and fruity taste was intoxicating. you pull back, needing to catch your breath. logan's lips moved south, sucking a dark purple bruise on your pulse point.

"better than i imaged." logan groans, obsessed with your every being.

"imagine si tu m'avais parlé plus tôt ?" you wink down at him.

*imagine if you had talked to me sooner?

logan chuckles, bending to pick you up. "love that mouth of yours, sweetheart. lets see what other languages it speaks."

[sugarlywhispers]

Katsuki is trying—FUCK, he really is fucking trying not to make a sound, but it's way more difficult than what people think.

And when he hears the door to the hallway open, he immediately reacts covering his bed and himself, bringing the covers almost to his naked chest. He grabs a book that is in his nightstand and he pretends to the best of his ability to be immerse in reading that stupid book.

Two knocks to the door of his room can be heard and he fakingly sighs in annoyance as he says, "come in".

The distinctive red hair of his roommate appears first before his face, "Everything alright, man?" Kirishima smiles.

Katsuki rolls his eyes in real annoyance this time before replying a simple yes. He feels a thick drop of nervous sweat rolling down behind his neck that he is very skilled to hide by simply scratching the back of his neck, but it seems Eijirou hasn't noticed yet. The blond is very proud to admit that he is good at hiding. Stuff. And emotions.

The red head nods before saying, "Hey, Y/N is coming over for dinner. I don't want to bother you, but do me a favor? Be sweet to her. She kinda has a crush on you."

Katsuki pulls up an eyebrow, looking as oblivious as he can, "Oh, really? I had no idea..."

Eijirou rolls his eyes at his best friend, "Of course you didn't. You of all people wouldn't know even if she confessed right at your face."

Katsuki doesn't answer back.

"Anyway, I'm going out to buy some groceries. Need something?"

"Nope," he answers, his attention back to the book he is actually not reading. Eijirou nods as he closes the door again and walks out.

Katsuki doesn't dare to move until he actually hears the front door of the apartment open and close. And that's when he can't avoid the snort that it's stuck at his throat, waiting for desperate release. Next to him, the covers finally move as you peak from under them, frowning in annoyance at him.

"Shut the fuck up," you protest, your hair tangled all around, cheeks cutely rosy and sweat obviously thanks to the thick covers. He can't help but laugh out loud. "It's not funny!"

You try hard not to laugh with him as you climb up, straddling his hips, your glorious naked body making him distracted from his previous amusement. He sits up too, big and strong arms surrounding your waist as you interlace your fingers with his hair at the back of head.

You both smile at each other, your nose caressing his cutely, and he feels like eating you up.

"So you have a crush on me, hmm?"

"Shut up," you say, hips beginning to move to create friction between your naked bodies as your lips find his again. Tongues fitting to gain control as his hands travel down to your ass to guide you in your movements.

A crush? Oh dear... if Eijirou only knew...

a.n; y/n and kirishima are best friends too. only katsuki and y/n are kinda(?) dating (?) fucking (?) fwb (?) lol idk 🙃

[luveline]

hi honey!! i have a request of sad spencer comforted by bombshell reader. maybe hes the one on the brink of tears and really shes just there for him please

thanks for your request!!! fem, 1k

Spencer Reid can't stop frowning. 

“You know what I've been reading lately?” you ask him. 

“Cosmopolitan?” 

“That's just sexist.” 

Spencer points at the copy of Cosmopolitan hidden between papers and an open book where it lies on the desk in front of you, a smile interrupting his frown momentarily. “Sorry,” he says. 

“Oh, don't be sorry.” You squint at him ever so slightly as you cross one leg over the other and sink back into your borrowed seat. “That's on me. But, you know… this isn't my desk. That could be anybody's magazine.” 

He laughs politely and turns back to his work. 

“You don't wanna know what I'm actually reading?” you ask. 

He stares at his keyboard. “Mm.” 

He's not listening. That's alright. You don't really want to tell him about what you've been reading; it's just a book. 

You slide your chair closer to his and peek at the computer. He's on a page for American Airlines, flights to Las Vegas, but he hasn't clicked anything. Spencer grew up in Las Vegas, and his mom still lives there alone in a sanitorium for the mentally ill. She can get really sick at a moment's notice. You know he’s been thinking about that more lately. 

“Is everything okay, Spencer?” you ask quietly. 

You incline your head to his. He looks up, at first surprised by your attention, and then abashed. “Yeah.” 

“You don't seem yourself,” you say, putting your hand on his arm. You feel up to the crook of his elbow, waiting for him to shrug you off. He doesn't move. You stroke his skin with your thumb. “You can talk to me, you know? I hope you know that, anyways.” 

“Yeah, I know, it's…” His voice wobbles. You lean in closer. “It's nothing.” 

The first time you saw Spencer cry, he was in a hospital room being weaned off of a terrible thing, and it was sudden but expected all the same. He was suffering, recovering but in pain, and you would've cried if the roles were reversed. That was a long time ago. Seeing him upset doesn't get easier. 

“Spencer,” you murmur, “What's wrong? You look like you could burst into tears. Do you need me to get you a glass of water?” 

He shakes his head. You stay right there by his side waiting for the inevitable, the tears gathering in his eyes that he blinks away, and his painful swallowing. You have two hands —the one that isn't squeezing his arm jumps to his back to hold his stiff shoulder. 

“Do you want me to get Morgan?” you ask, unsure. 

It's a busy office, and you and Spencer sit on the outskirts closest to the offices upstairs and furthest from the hubbub. Nobody notices your closeness. You speak too quietly to be overheard. 

“Spencer,” you implore. 

He ducks his head, putting his hand to his brow. 

“I'm okay,” he says, his voice stronger now, “it's just my mom doesn't sound right in her letters lately, and I'm tired, and I wasn't expecting you to ask me.” 

“No?” you ask, giving his arm another tender rub. “Sorry if I'm upsetting you, Spencer. I was worried. You don't have to talk about it.” He winces. “But if you do want to, I'm right here.” 

He needs a hug, you decide (unsurely). You stand and he immediately lifts his head with worry in his eyes, but you're not going anywhere, the opposite. You cover up his head and shoulders as your chin rests gently atop his soft hair, a gravel to your tone as you say, “It's okay.” 

Spencer is silent. Slowly, tentatively, he wraps his arms around you in turn, and then he's squeezing you tight enough to feel it in your spine. 

“It's okay, Spencer. We can talk about it, huh? We can work something out. It wouldn't be terrible for you to take a vacation every once in a while, maybe that's what you need.”  

He breathes out against your sleeve. “Sorry,” he says. 

“It's okay.” You kiss his head. He likely doesn't feel it. “I promise, it's fine.” 

“I wasn’t expecting you to ask.” 

“I know, you said that already.” You don’t tell him with any malice, just reaffirmation. “But I’ll always ask. I care about you, I need you to be okay, Dr. Reid. You’re my pillar of strength.” He laughs with self-deprecation, but you mean it. “You are. You’re always there for me. You’re always looking after me.”

“Since when do you need looking after?” 

“That’s one of the best and worst things about you. You don’t realise what you are to people.” 

Spencer screws his hands into your blouse and grows still in your arms. You consider scolding him about wrinkles to lighten the mood, but he’ll take you too seriously, and stop hugging you, and that’s not what you want. You try to be subtle about the comfort you’re giving him as you wrap your arms behind his head to close him in, hiding him from any prying eyes, but the longer you stay holding him the more attention you recieve, until even your stoic unit chief can't pretend this is appropriate for the workplace. 

“L/N,” Hotch says in concern. “Reid. Is everything okay?” 

Spencer seizes up and tries to push you away.

You lift your chin above his head and give Hotch your stickiest smile, arms moving to a more amicable position behind his shoulders. “No, everything is not okay, Hotch. You realise I only joined the unit to be with Spencer, right? And you punish me by sitting me halfway across the office!” 

Everyone watching either laughs or rolls their eyes, used to your dramatic favouritism. Even Hotch seems tired of it. 

“I’d be sorry if I thought that were true. Can you go back to suffocating Reid on your own time? We have some consults to look over.” 

You widen the gap between you and Spencer, allowing him the space to collect himself. “If you insist,” you say, grinning brightly. 

You stand in front of Spencer, heart aching as he sniffs quietly. He stands, and for a moment you think he won’t be alright after all, that your comfort was useless and he’ll need to excuse himself, but he draws a ghost of a line into your side with his knuckle and squares his expression. “Let’s get back to work,” he says to you with a small smile. You’ll talk more later. 

“Wanna hold hands?” you ask. 

“Maybe when everyone’s stopped looking at me?” he says under his breath, starting toward the steps to the conference room. 

“Wait, really?”

He hurries up the stairs. You follow.

[thistlerock]

Fabian trying to cook or bake (horrible and awful) and Riz letting him do his thing (he wants to figure it out himself. Something about change. Something about independence.) while eating his failed attempts so nothing goes to waste (because truly no amount of burned or undercooked will stop Riz Gukgak from chowing down). I think this is love.

They spend the afternoon that way, it's summer and for once the fate of the world doesn't seem to rest upon their shoulders. Maybe next week, but not today. Riz is sitting on the counter already prepping schoolwork for his next year because he's like that and he only looks up to taste test (no tie or vest; his briefcase holds his arquebus like usual but it's resting at the table, so far away that it'd take him several precious seconds to reach it. Maybe that means something. If Fabian understands that then he doesn't address it.) (I think this is love.)

Fabian is someone that rarely shuts up, it's like he has to fill the space because silence makes him uncomfortable (and maybe he also enjoys listening to himself talk a little bit), but he's quietly focused this time. When he finally gets it right and shares with Cathilda she praises him like she always does but this time it feels bigger. She'll smile and make him bend down so she can kiss his forehead and they'll have a nice supper and maybe he remembers to buy her flowers for Mother's Day next time. I think this is love.

(Hallariel might notice, she might not. Sometimes she gets better about paying attention to him and sometimes she gets worse, the baby and Gilear have been holding most of her attention lately. It's understandable, in a way, and there's a way in which it's really not. Fabian eventually learns not to chase after her no matter how much he wants to. All this yearning is for naught. I think this is still love. It's just that love alone isn't enough, love without commitment is something that feels very cruel. I think he learns to focus on the love that comes without drawbacks; I don't know if she ever learns to love without them.)

Riz sleeps over just because. Cathilda doesn't question it. The Hangman doesn't question it. Fabian has his best friend's night time rituals memorised, he doesn't really get it but he's glad that Riz feels comfortable enough to be weird and feel safe. I think this is love.

I think he says so, I think Riz says it back.

(Obligatory hi, to me this post is not about romance. I think Fabian has girlfriends and sometimes boyfriends, right now it's Mazey and he really likes her. I think Riz is his best friend and always stays by his side. I think they love each other. Wouldn't kiss, wouldn't date, would hold each other and fall asleep after a long day. Something something, they're queerplatonic but Fabian doesn't know that word yet and Riz hasn't brought it up.)

(That said, equally obligatory I have nothing against romantic fabriz enjoyers if you like them we're cool if you wanna read this that way we're also cool. Don't care.)

This is vaguely a oneshot I was gonna write but I've lost my passion for it. But the idea was still nice and I do still think about it. I think about Fabian and all the love in his life, and then I think that whatever he and Riz have going on and the way he's literally Cathilda's actual son talk to the wall are my favourites.

[helen-with-an-a]

hey i know that this is a senstive topic but i was wondering if you could write a barca x reader, where reader take transit from her home to the training grounds even tho multiple teammates have told her they will drive her but she doesn't want to be a burden. when on the bus or train she gets off at a stop and is walking home when she hears a guy behind her, this guy pulls her into an area (bushes, alley way) and r*pe's her. after the next day at training she really quiet and people notice she has disengaged and ask her about it until she breaks down about how embrassed she is because she think this guy has taken her virginity until someone like alexia explains that she hasn't and says she will stay with her and she will take her too and from training..

I know it is a senstive topic and if you don't wan to write it I totally understand <3

Hi - so this is a very deep topic that I have no experience with but I did change it to something that I have some experience with. Please read this with your own safety and well-being in mind - if this is something you feel like you cannot read, please do not do so. If this is happening, or if anything similar is happening please contact someone.

UK Rape and Sexual Abuse Hotline: 0808 500 2222 or their website

USA National Victims Hotline: phone or text 1-855-4VICTIM (855-484-2846) or their website

Australia Sexual Assault Crisis Line: 1800 806 292 or their website

Spain Delegación del Gobierno contra la Violencia de Género: 016 or their website

France Victimes Plus Jamais Sueles: +33 (0)1 45 88 19 00; 0884284637 or their website

Germany: 0049 30 32299500; or their website

Here is a list of other hotlines for countries across Europe and the World

Withdrawn

Barça Femeni x Reader (mainly Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Description: R comes back after the Winter break a lot more withdrawn

Word Count: 4.1k

TW: Somewhat described SA (coercion and r*pe); Mental Health; Attempted forced sex (nothing actually happens a boy just tries to demand sex); Mentions of repressed sexuality due to religion (Catholicism)

You had known for quite a while that you weren't straight. It wasn't a sudden revelation or a fleeting thought; it was something that had always known. From the moment you caught yourself staring just that little bit too long at one of the girls at Sunday School, her wavy hair tied back in a nice, neat braid, her white dress standing out against her tanned skin. You knew you shouldn't but you couldn't help the blush that bloomed on your cheeks when she complimented your knowledge of the story of Joseph in Egypt.

But you weren’t allowed to be anything other than straight. The idea of being anything else was unthinkable, an option that simply did not exist in your world. Your family’s strict Catholic beliefs dictated every aspect of life, from the prayers said before meals to the unwavering attendance at church multiple times a week. You were expected to follow the path laid out for you, one that led to a conventional life with a husband and children.

You even had a boyfriend, the perfect outward proof that you were living the perfect life. On the surface, everything seemed right – everything appeared as it should be.

He was nice enough – he ticked all the boxes that would make your family proud. He went to church regularly, sitting beside you in the pews, nodding in all the right places during Mass. He smiled at you warmly, his hand finding yours as he guided you over to the Priest after the service was finished. He played the role of the ideal boyfriend with ease, taking you out for meals at family-friendly restaurants, making sure to always choose a place your parents would approve of. On weekends, he’d take you down to the beach after watching your matches, where you’d walk along the shore, hand in hand, just like a picture-perfect couple.

From the outside, everything about your relationship seemed flawless. People would comment on how lucky you were, how well you two fit together, and how you were on the right track for a happy, conventional future. His kindness was genuine, you think; he treated you well, and in many ways, he was everything you were supposed to want. Yet, you just ... couldn't. You knew what you were, who you were. And yet, you just couldn't.

He was the one to suggest it – heading up to the bedroom during a birthday party. You could tell by the way he leaned in close, his voice low and teasing, that he was testing the waters. “Everyone’s doing it,” he whispered with a playful wink, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair off your forehead. There was a casual confidence in his tone like this was just the next step, something as natural as breathing. It was an unspoken rule among your friends, a rite of passage that no one questioned.

It hurt – that's the thing you remember most. The discomfort, the sharp sting that made you wince, the feeling of his nails scratching as he fumbled around, the burn as he pushed himself inside. You definitely weren’t wet enough, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

He had kissed you for maybe all of five minutes beforehand, it was messy and too wet, his tongue leaving a trail of spit in its wake. His hands bunched up your skirt without much warning. His calloused hand scratched against your soft skin as he parted your thighs.

Then, without much warning, he slid his fingers inside you, and that’s when the pain started. It was clumsy and awkward; his fingers poked and prodded until he finally found what he was looking for. You tried to focus on the fact that at least he had done that, at least he fingered you. You told yourself that it was a kindness, that it could have been worse, but deep down, you knew that wasn’t how it was supposed to feel.

He had lasted 78 seconds – longer than you’d honestly expected. The whole experience was surreal like you were watching it happen to someone else. When it was over, you lay there, trying to make sense of what had just happened, the seconds ticking away in the silence that followed. You felt like crying, but nothing happened – you just lay there as he pulled out and slumped down next to you.

It wasn’t until after that you fully realised he hadn’t used a condom. You had asked him to, your voice far weaker than you ever wanted. Instead, he had smirked, a self-assured, almost arrogant expression crossing his face. “Who are we to stand in the way of God’s will?” he said as he slipped his boxers off. His words hung in the air, shame swirling around you as he settled himself on top of you.

The team could tell something was wrong the moment they saw you. It was the first day back after the winter break, a time when everyone was usually buzzing with energy. You stood, silent and withdrawn, as the team huddled together in the gym, hugging each other and swapping holiday stories.

You weren't laughing, and you definitely weren't smiling, two things that came naturally to you, especially when you were with the team. Normally, you'd be right in the thick of it, cracking jokes and teasing your friends. But today, you just stood there, your arms wrapped around yourself as if to ward off a cold only you could feel, your eyes fixed on the edge of the mat.

It was as if the world around you had faded away. Pere was explaining the drills for the day, but his words seemed distant, muffled, like they were coming from underwater. You didn't hear a thing he said, didn't register the plans for practice, or the way he glanced at you, concern flickering in his eyes.

You weren’t even thinking, there was nothing in your mind. Just a static hum. A silent scream, begging for someone to hear it.

Alexia’s eyes followed you wearily, her gaze filled with a concern she couldn’t quite mask, as you moved with a mechanical stiffness toward where your parents were standing. It was as if someone had dimmed the light that normally shone from within you, leaving behind only a shadow of the person Alexia knew.

Your parents stood nearby, waiting for you with warm smiles. She liked your parents, the whole team did. They were supportive in a way that wasn’t overbearing, always ready with a kind word or a hug after a tough match. They treated you well, and it was clear how much they cared about you. They were proud of you, and that pride shone through in everything they did, from the way they cheered in the stands to the thoughtful little gestures they made to show their love.

You boyfriend was the same. He kissed you gently, pulling you into a hug afterwards and smiling widely. He was a nice enough boy, the kind that anyone would consider a good match. Polite and respectful, he always knew the right thing to say, the right way to act in any situation. He seemed to be hardworking, dedicated to whatever he set his mind to, whether it was his studies, his own sports, or supporting you. He always had your name emblazoned across his back, your Barça shirt pulled proudly over his jumper.

“What are you staring at?” Patri asked as she came over to see what was taking so long. She followed Alexia's gaze, trying to see what had caught her attention so completely.

“Nena,” Alexia replied softly, nodding in your direction. Her eyes were fixed on you, her brow furrowed with concern. You were only a few feet away, but you seemed distant as if you were somewhere else entirely. Your mother was speaking rapidly, her hands moving in animated gestures as she tried to make a point, her usual lively energy on full display. But you ... you weren’t responding.

You were staring over your mum’s shoulder, your eyes unfocused, a blank expression on your face. It was as if the words and movements were passing right through you, not registering at all. There was an emptiness in your gaze that made Alexia’s heart ache.

Patri glanced at you and then back at Alexia, sensing the tension in the air. “Is she okay?” she asked quietly, her voice laced with concern. It was clear to both of them that something was off. You weren’t yourself. Something had changed, something had happened to you.

Alexia didn’t answer right away. She kept her eyes on you, trying to read the expression that flickered across your face for just a moment before the blankness returned as your boyfriend leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. It was like watching a ghost of you, a version of you that had somehow lost its spark. She could tell you were going through the motions, nodding occasionally, but your heart wasn’t in it. You weren’t really there.

“I don’t know,” Alexia finally murmured, her voice heavy with worry.

You had never been more grateful for that day. The day Alexia finally figured it all out. It had been a couple of weeks since the game, and your withdrawal had only got worse. You had been distant, more so than ever, drifting further into your thoughts, away from everything and everyone.

It was a family and friends event. It was done every year, a chance for the team and staff to show off where the players spent far too many hours. You had brought your boyfriend along, his hand clasped tightly in yours as you stared vacantly out the window, your mind elsewhere.

“Mija, what is wrong with Nena?” Eli asked, her voice hushed. She was watching you for a little while, her maternal instincts immediately picking up that something wasn’t right.

“I’m not sure, Mamí,” Alexia sighed, her gaze following her mother’s to where you stood. "She’s been off for a while now. Something happened over the winter break, but I can’t get her to open up. I think she’s spoken maybe ten words since we came back. She's playing ok, but it's like she's a shell or something.”

Alexia’s eyes lingered on you, her heart aching at the sight of your blank expression, the light that usually danced in your eyes completely gone. Your boyfriend, standing next to you, was chatting happily with Frido and her partner, seemingly unaware (or uncaring) of whatever was going on with you.

Eli’s brow furrowed, her frown deepening as she observed the boy you had brought along. “I do not like that boy,” she muttered, her voice low but firm in a way that only mothers can manage.

Alexia turned to her mother, surprised. “What? Mamí, you haven’t even spoken to him. He’s actually quite nice. Honestly, he's at every match, he takes her out for dinners and walks along the beach.”

But Eli wasn’t convinced. She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing as they stayed locked on him. “Something is off about him,” she insisted, her voice resolute. "And he has something to do with why she’s like this. I know it."

Alexia shook her head slightly but couldn’t shake the seed of doubt her mother had planted.

She hadn’t meant to follow you, but something about the way he leaned in and whispered in your ear set off alarm bells. Eli had nudged Alexia, nodding as they saw the way your body stiffened, the flash of terror that crossed your face, and before she could even blink, he was pulling you toward the door, a tight grip on your wrist.

“I’ll be right back, Mamí,” Alexia said quickly, placing a swift kiss on her mother’s cheek. Her eyes never left the door as she followed you out into the corridor, her heart racing.

“No, please. Not here,” you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper, but the fear was unmistakable.

“C’mon, you always do this. Loosen up a little.” His voice was laced with impatience and disdain.

“Please, I could get in serious trouble, please,” you begged again, your voice shaking.

“You’ll only get in trouble if we get caught,” he snapped. “And we won’t. And the good Lord himself knows you aren’t loud enough for anyone to hear. You're mute whenever we do anything.”

Alexia’s heart dropped at his words. What did he mean by that? Her pace quickened as she neared the corner, desperate to understand what was happening.

“N-no, I don’t want to,” you said again, but this time your voice was quieter, weaker, as if the fight in you was slowly crumbling.

“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered angrily. “I’m not asking for much.”

Alexia’s fists clenched at his tone, her pulse pounding in her ears. She rounded the corner just as you spoke again.

“I’m not having sex at my place of work,” you said, your voice trembling.

“We are having sex if I say we’re having sex,” he growled, his voice low and threatening. “Now, tell me where the bathrooms are.”

Alexia froze for a moment, her breath catching in her throat as she realised the full extent of what was happening. She could hear your sharp intake of breath, the panic rising within you. Without thinking, Alexia stepped forward.

“She said no.”

The air in the corridor seemed to freeze the moment Alexia’s voice sliced through the thick tension. You and your boyfriend both whipped around to face her, but the reactions couldn't have been more different. Your eyes, wide with shock, held a flicker of hope, you looked terrified. His face, however, twisted into something much darker – his initial surprise quickly morphing into a simmering anger. He wasn’t used to being challenged.

“Alexia, uh… Ms. Putellas, h-how are you?” he stammered, forcing a false smile that didn’t reach his eyes. His voice was dripping with fake politeness, but the way his hand clenched even tighter around your wrist betrayed his frustration. You gasped at the pain.

Alexia’s gaze locked on that grip, her expression hardening with every passing second. “Get your hands off her.” Her voice sharp as steel.

For a moment, he didn’t move, as if contemplating whether or not to challenge her, but Alexia’s posture, her deadly calm, told him she wasn’t bluffing. She would not let this go. He shifted his weight uncomfortably but tried to keep his facade intact.

“She just said she wasn’t feeling great,” he replied, his voice now oozing with a sickly sweetness that made both your stomachs churn. “I was just trying to help her, but she can’t seem to remember where the bathrooms are.” He forced a chuckle.

Alexia’s eyes narrowed, her anger intensifying. She could see right through him. The tension in the air thickened, and you stood frozen between them, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Let her go. Now,” Alexia repeated, her voice dropping dangerously low. Her eyes blazed with fury, daring him to defy her. You had never seen Alexia like this before.

He hesitated, glancing between you and Alexia. His expression flickered for just a moment – fear, perhaps? But then it was gone, replaced by the cold, calculating demeanour he wore like armour.

“She’s fine,” he snapped, the fake calm slipping from his voice as irritation began to creep in. He cleared his throat. “You don’t have to get involved in this. It’s just a little misunderstanding. You know how she gets sometimes.”

“She said no,” Alexia said, voice cutting like a blade. “I heard everything.” Her words were a warning.

His jaw tightened, the anger bubbling just beneath the surface. For a moment, it seemed like he might push back further, but something in Alexia’s stare made him falter. With a frustrated grunt, he finally released your wrist, shoving your arm away as if you were burning him.

“There. Happy now?” he sneered.

Alexia stepped forward, placing herself between you and him, her protective presence like a barrier you hadn’t realised you desperately needed. “Leave,” she ordered, her voice low and firm.

He glared at her for a long, tense moment. He spat a curse under his breath and turned on his heel, storming down the corridor. His footsteps echoed as he disappeared from sight, leaving a thick silence behind.

Your knees buckled. Alexia caught you instantly, wrapping her arms around you as you trembled, barely able to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over.

“It’s okay,” she whispered softly, her voice gentle now, all the sharp edges from before melted away. “He’s gone. You’re safe.”

You clung to her, the sobs you had been holding back finally escaping as you buried your face in her shoulder. Alexia held you tighter, her strong arms wrapped around you, her hand moving in slow, soothing circles on your back. For the first time in weeks, you let yourself feel everything – the fear, the exhaustion, the relief.

“I didn’t know what to do,” you choked out, your voice muffled against her.

“Shhhhh,” she cooed, her voice soft, far gentler than you had ever heard it. Alexia wasn’t used to this. She wasn’t the person who handled emotions – she was the tough-love captain, the one who pushed everyone to be stronger, to keep going no matter what. If anyone needed comfort, they usually turned to Irene or Marta. But here she was, holding you as you broke down in her arms, her strong body a lifeline you clung to with all your might,

Alexia glanced down at you, finally taking in the full extent of your state. Her heart clenched as she really looked at you. Your body, normally so full of energy and strength, felt fragile in her arms, your bones too close to the surface for her liking.

Your eyes, once bright with life and determination, were now sunken and dark, the glow that used to radiate from your skin dulled. The light that she had always associated with you had faded, and it was only now that she realised how far you had fallen. Guilt gnawed at her – how had she not seen it sooner?

“You’re too thin,” she muttered under her breath, more to herself than to you, her brow furrowing with concern. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You shook your head, pulling back just enough to look up at her, your face streaked with tears. “I didn’t want to burden anyone,” you whispered, your voice so small, as if you were ashamed of needing help. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me?” Alexia repeated, her voice cracking ever so slightly. The idea that you thought you were a burden shook her to the core. “You could never bother me; do you understand that?” Her tone was firmer now, but still gentle. She cupped your face in her hands, forcing you to meet her gaze. “You’re not alone in this. You’re never alone. You are so loved, so wanted. We've got you ... I've got always”

[screechingdefendorpuppy-blog]

My dearest Sevika....

You hum along to the song playing softly on the radio as you get ready. Both you and Sevika had been invited to Isha's six grade graduation. I twill be the first time you go out together since her return so you were both excited and nervous for this.

You straighten your blouse as you take a last look in the mirror. Leaving the ensuite bathroom you see Sevika sat down on her side of the bed. You smile at first till you notice the sag on her shoulders. She hasn't noticed you yet so you slowly walk over to her and sit next to her. You stay silent knowing that she will tell you what is going on when she is ready.

"It wont fit..." she whisper. That's when you notice her wedding band in her right hand. Her gaze on her left prosthetic arm. It has been a journey since her release from the hospital. From physical therapy, actual therapy, and the difficulties to get used to her new reality.

You lift your hand and start to rub her back and lean on her shoulder. "Maybe you can wear it on your right hand." you suggest not thinking much about it, just wanting to give her a simple solution. Once her hand clenches around her ring you know it was the wrong thing to say.

"It's not the same." she says, anger evident in her voice. Though the anger was never directed at you. It saddens you to hear it. As you open your mouth to respond she abruptly gets up.

"We have to go or we'll be late." she says as she leaves the bedroom.

You stay put for a bit thinking to yourself that you could've handled that better. As you get up, you remember a conversation you had with Jinx a few years ago, when you had first met her. You smile and make a mental note to ask her a few questions.

________

"Almost there Sevi, just a few more steps." you excitedly tell her as you guide her. A bandana adorns her face to cover her eyes. Ever since that day you found her saddened about her wedding band, you had talked to Jinx, done some research and booked an appointment.

Maybe the appointment was jumping the gun a bit but you had wanted to help Sevika with this. To help her feel loved and seen. It had been eating at you that your response had not helped. Though Sevika didn't hold it against you, she actually ended up talking to you about it later that night.

Had shared how the fact that she couldn't wear her wedding ring and feel it felt wrong to her. That it felt like something was missing. You had tried to apologize to her but she had stopped you. Telling you that she knows you wont always have the answers. Hell she doesn't expect you to have them. That night you both had promised each other to firstly be an anchor to each other and then try for a solution together.

That was last week, and though you hadn't told her about the appointment you had made. You had mention to her how in other cultures they use different ways to symbolize marriage other than wearing wedding rings.

She had been non the wiser about your comments. You had always like learning about other cultures and other topics. Always reading about them, watching documentaries, and researching things that catch your interest. So she did not think twice that you had been looking into it.

Now though there is a lil hint of suspicion in her mind. Especially after you had blind folded her instead of letting her drive like she normally did when you were together.

" Babe, I am one step away from yelling 'Help I have been kidnapped'"

You roll your eyes as you continue to the front door of the establishment. Once in front you take a big exhale and turn to face Sevika.

"Ok, you can look now." You tell her

"Finally." she chuckles as she removes the bandana. It takes her a moment to adjust to the sudden brightness. Then she looks up at the place she was standing in front of.

A Tattoo Parlor.

You can she the question before she voices it.

"So, I have been thinking about your ring and how you are not able to wear it anymore at least not the way it is meant to be worn." you start.

Sevika opens her mouth but you stop her. " I know it has been bothering you and I know our therapist said that I cant fix everything for you. But I can try to at least make some alternatives towards a new normal." You look down at your wedding ring and remove it.

"You are not able to wear your wedding ring. So I wont wear mine." She goes to talk but once again you stop her. "Only if you are ok with what I am proposing."

"In other cultures there is different ways to signify marriage or your devotion to someone., Some with bracelets, others with necklaces and tattoos." You pause to gage her reaction. She stay silent trying to come up with an answer.

So you panic "It's just that I thought, that if you cant wear a ring. then what else could you use to show that you are married and well at first I had thought of a necklace but you are that big of a fan of jewelry and well that also ruled out a bracelet and then I thought piercings! But like which on you know cuz there is a nose ring that signifies marriage but I work with kids andmmm-" her lips crash into yours

"You're rambling sweetheart." she tells you against your lips.

"Yeah well I haven't been this nervous since we went on our first date." you whisper still a bit dazed from the kiss and her proximity.

She chuckles as she glances back up at the parlor. " A tattoo huh" she says her hands still cupping your face. You nod, "I just thought it was more like you and well it would be something that would be unique just for the two of us."

"And you are willing to get one?" she asks as she lets go of your face to grab ahold to your waist. "You are afraid of needles."

" For you I will do anything Sev. That's a promise I will always keep." you tell her "Even if it means dealing with needles." you whisper solemnly making her laugh.

She sobers up and looks at you. She is about to ask you once more till she sees it. The love and determination you have to do this for her. She smiles and lifts her right hand to move a strand of hair from your face.

"Ok" she says "Lets do it."

A big smile blooms on your face as you grab her prosthetic hand and start dragging her inside.

Tag list: @archangeldyke-all , @ghosting-y0u , @sumisamente , @chezze-its , @yeetsugadaichi , @user-ladiesman217 , @caralynlane , @iwannadeletemyself , @wee-bitch , @megamultifandomtrashposts , @abbyandersonsarmsweat , @sevikabrainrotenthusiast , @sevikasleftbicep , @caterpilla-in-a-hat , @h2pinky , @vintagelotus345 , @kay-khronicals , @loofat

[rendiamberspirit]

Mute Tobirama AU

Peace happens the way it should, (with Izuna living after Hashirama saves him) and all through peace talks Tobirama never speaks a word.

The Uchiha notice him using hand signs, but they all just assume that's so they can speak without the Uchiha knowing what they are saying. They are doing the same so it's a logical conclusion.

But now it's a year into peace and it finally occurs to Madara and Izuna that they have NEVER heard Tobirama speak.

Once they reach this conclusion they start paying attention and they realize there is always a Senju around him that will talk for him.

His secretary sits at a desk in his office though right by the door instead of back by the window and she will respond to any questions being asked. And if she doesn't have the answer she will tell them to come back later when Tobirama has time.

Touka, Hashirama or Mito are almost always with him when he is away from his desk.

And if he is walking around in the village and someone asks him something a random Senju will suddenly be there answering whatever is asked.

When he is given a kind greeting he will smile and nod. But never speak.

And he never goes on a mission with anyone but a Senju, if he has a partner that is.

Everyone has always assumed he was just kind of stuck up, or possibly very very awkward in a social situation. No one would call him shy of course. But they really don't have a better word, so they go with awkward.

But now Madara and Izuna know. They know it's more than shy, more than awkward.

And they want answers!

So Izuna does whatever ration person would do. Shows up unannounced at their home and ambushes Tobirama. Starts with accusations of him being defective, or a liar, or too full of himself and racists to talk to people outside his clan.

In full view of Tobirama's protective sister in law.

Mito was not pleased.

Izuna opens his mouth again about to say something else unadvisable when Mito unleashes a wave of killing intent never before seen from her.

Madara was chatting with Hashirama in his office when they feel it.

Both of them shoot up and head straight to Hashirama's home.

Where they witness Tobirama holding Mito back from murdering Izuna, whose face is now sporting a huge shiner.

Mito is spitting mad. Swearing at Izuna with words that should never be repeated.

Madara's and Hashirama's jaws drop at the vile words she is spewing.

Tobirama stomps his foot twice and that spurs Hashirama into action and he takes over calming Mito.

Madara looks down at Izuna who hasn't gotten up from the floor.

"What did you do??"

"I may have, possibly called Tobirama defective for refusing to speak."

Madara slaps a hand to his face. "What is wrong with you?"

"I wanted to force him to tell the truth, to actually respond!"

Hashirama interjects at this point, "Tobirama is mute. How did you not realize that?"

All three Senju look legitimately confused.

"How would we know that? You say that like it's common knowledge!"

Tobirama makes a few signs to Hashirama who nods back.

"It has never been a secret. He has a secretary who does all his talking for him. He seriously has someone with him whenever shopping! It's not as if we were hiding it!"

"Trust me when I say this. But NO ONE knows that."

And they discover the next day that the Uchiha were in fact correct. A year after the village was built and not a single member of any of the clans knew Tobirama was mute.

They all, like the Uchiha, mostly just thought he was rude.

Once the cat is out of the bag all the Shinobi decide they need to be able to speak with Tobirama and learn to sign so they can understand him.

Which leads to opportunities for people who are deaf in the village. They finally have an easy way to communicate with everyone in the village.

Once Madara learns to communicate with Tobirama he finds that he enjoys the other man's company. And surprisingly that he has a great sense of humor.

A year after the discovery Madara works up the courage to ask Tobirama out to dinner, just the two of them.

Once they have finished eating Madara slides a box across the table to Tobirama.

Inside is the most beautiful hunting knife Tobirama has ever seen. When he looks up Madara signs to him "may I court you?"

Tobirama blushes a deep red and nods with a shy smile.

Longer story can be found here

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64701658

[literaila]

slip-up

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: megumi says something he's not supposed to

warnings: bit of sad megumi (same babe), gojo is a terrible comforter, reader doesn't get a lot of screen time but she's always there, a good lack of conflict resolution

a/n: the one-shot that started this series. i figured it was time to give it up

last part | next part

*

year four.

megumi doesn't notice the slip-up right when he says it. he's not even really paying attention to the conversation. 

instead, he's thinking about the homework assignment he was supposed to turn in today--the one that gojo refused (couldn't) help him with. 

"my mom usually drops us off," he's telling his teacher, trying to be polite like you taught him and not start whining (like gojo taught him). "but she's out of town right now, so gojo dropped us off instead and he gets the times confused..." 

in all honesty, megumi could blame this whole thing on gojo. because it was his fault. 

usually, you woke him and tsumiki up, pulling on his hair when he whined into the pillows, packing their lunches while they both sat at the table, eating cereal or tamagoyaki. usually, you reminded megumi to tuck in his shirt and helped the two of them get their books together, taking an occasional moment to shout at megumi's budget dad to get up before he was late. usually, you walked them to the door, kissing them both goodbye and watching both of them until they closed the door. 

later on, you'd be there again, welcoming them home with another smile, asking about their days. forcing them into a thorough recap. 

but today megumi woke up with a sore neck and gojo smiling at him, asking if he was planning on being buried in his bed. 

because even though megumi heard you tell gojo that he needed to help out, step up, the mornings while you were gone, all of you should've known better. 

megumi hasn't even ever seen gojo out of bed before nine-thirty. 

so here he was, with his shirt untucked, his homework missing, and a bag of lollipops that gojo packed for lunch. 

here he was, three hours late for school, trying to explain to his teacher that it wasn't his fault. 

and here he was, accidentally calling you mom. 

but megumi doesn't even realize that until his teacher smiles a little bit, telling him that she understands, asking him when his mom gets back. 

megumi freezes. 

the word repeats in his mind, and he finally realizes his slip-up. 

sure, he's heard tsumiki call you it before--because for all intents and purposes, that's what you were. after four years of your unconditional love, the two of them knew, truly, that they could depend on you. 

but megumi has never had a mom, and he doesn't now. 

so it's still gojo's fault when the first tear rolls down his cheek. which megumi promptly wipes away. he's not going to cry--he's not the sort of kid that cries. he prides himself on it, actually. not needing the same sort of attention that he's seen his classmates get, never feeling things that deeply. 

but he's crying now, and his neck still hurts as he turns away from his teacher, going to sit down at his desk. 

and megumi isn't the type of kid that cries, but when he puts his head down, his cheeks feel a little damp. 

*

megumi's got a headache now--another reason why he doesn't cry--and he sort of wants to curl up in bed until tsumiki gets home, and then convince her to run away with him. 

but he doesn't. 

when gojo unlocks the door, megumi goes through it without stopping to look around. he drags his backpack to his room--gojo watching the whole time, of course--and closes the door before the man can say anything stupid. 

he can't deal with him right now. or ever, actually. 

megumi sets his backpack up against the wall with a brief thought about homework and the class he's going to miss because of this, but he doesn't care enough to dwell on it. 

everything about him feels stiff, like glue got between the seems of his very core. 

he's ten years old. he shouldn't have to worry about anything. 

he takes off his blazer, sets it on his desk with sweaty palms, and feels quite naked--even with the layers of clothes and lack of eyes. and his head hurts. megumi wants to get up and restart his day just so he can tell some version of his former self not to be so stupid. 

but he knows that's just the guilt talking, so he ignores that too. 

and it's only ten minutes into his glooming that there's a knock on the door, and gojo doesn't knock, so megumi knows immediately that something's wrong. 

he's lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, but he leans up on his elbow when you peek your head into the room. 

for a brief moment, megumi is so relieved to see you that he almost jumps up and clings to you--like some child would. 

he wants to hold onto you and beg you not to leave again, because everything seems to go wrong when you’re not there. he wants to tell you that he’s scared, and that he’s not sure what to do.

but he refrains, and blinks idly, confused about why you're here, and why his heart hurts just from looking at you. 

“hey, you okay?” you whisper, taking a step into the dark room. you don't look banged up, and megumi wonders what gojo said to get you to come home. he probably told you that megumi was dying, or something. 

you sit on the edge of his bed, and your hand is on his forehead before megumi can blink. “you feel sick?” 

megumi nods, but his eyes don’t meet yours. it's a small enough lie. 

“i’m sorry. did satoru give you any medicine?” 

“did you have to come home for me?” 

you smile, slightly. “no, buddy, don’t worry. it was easier than they said, just a grade one. plus i kinda rushed it cause i missed you guys.” you push his hair out of his eyes, “now, medicine?”

“i don’t want any.” 

“if you don’t feel good—“ 

“actually,” he interrupts. “can—i, um, i don’t really want to talk.” 

you pause, eyes roaming over his face. “oh. okay. that’s fine.” 

you remove your hands from him immediately, walls of metaphorical space flying up between the two of you. “i’ll leave you alone. just ask if you need anything, okay? i’m going to go unpack.”

he nods and you give him a little grin. 

and right as you're at the door, he falters. he doesn’t really want you to go. he wants you to crawl into bed with him, treat him like he's actually sick, and let him lay with his head in your lap. he wants to ask you the same question that's been in his head since he said it, but he can't. 

“y/n?” he whispers, instead, your name feeling wrong in his mouth. 

“yeah?"

“will... will you get gojo?" he asks, even though it's not what he wants to say at all. "i want to talk to him.” 

“gojo?” you frown, looking at him. “yeah. of course, yeah. i’ll go get him. one sec.” 

and when you close the door, megumi feels like he’s said something wrong. slipped up again. 

he sits there and waits, feeling incorrect in his body. he wants you to come back and tell him that it'll all be fine, but he knows that you won't. if there's one thing you're good at, it's respecting boundaries. 

and megumi has a lot of them. 

gojo doesn’t knock when he comes into the room, and megumi is so lost in thought that he jumps as soon as the door clicks open. 

megumi’s neck flies as he looks at him, wide eyes. he's already sat up, preparing himself for an influx of anger. 

“is this about your lunch?” gojo asks, immediately, words fast and smooth. “because that wasn’t my fault. i thought your school did that.”

“you bought us our lunchboxes,” megumi argues, “you made me get the weird one with the dragon.” 

“do not insult dracomon like that.” 

megumi rolls his eyes. “whatever.” 

“so, you wanna talk to me, huh?" gojo sits on megumi’s desk chair, legs hanging off the sides. “i think this is the first real conversation we’ve ever had.” 

megumi rolls his eyes again. 

gojo waves a hand. "alright. what is it?" 

megumi pauses. he can't ask gojo. even if he had an answer, it would be the least trustworthy version of one. 

he scratches his neck, not sure how to lie about this. knowing that he's not supposed to lie in the first place. 

he's doing everything wrong today. 

gojo shakes his head, white hair the victim of many fashion crimes. “spit it out, kid. i just did you a huge favor, and i don’t have time for the attitude.” 

“you didn’t do anything,” megumi frowns, crossing his arms. 

gojo snorts. “you think they just say ‘come get your child’ when you’re crying at your desk?” he asks, rhetorically, and megumi’s face goes still. “no, they disrupted my nap, saying that you needed to be picked up and handed me a card for a child psychologist.” 

“they told you?” 

he nods. “and i didn’t tell y/n,” he grins, self-satisfied. “so you’re welcome.” 

“why not?” 

“because she would’ve freaked out, and i don’t need that, and i’m pretty sure you don’t want that…” 

megumi nods immediately. 

“it can stay our secret if you tell me what’s going on. i’ll edit the report when y/n asks,” then he turns, looking at the door. “even though she’s already listening in.” 

“really?” megumi bites the inside of his cheek, checking the crack under the door for feet. 

satoru kicks him. “no. she’s in her room. now, talk. i don’t know how long she’ll take.” 

megumi swallows. he doesn’t really want to ask—not his only real question—but he’s already gotten this far. 

at least it doesn't matter what he says, because no one will believe anything gojo makes up anyway. 

“megumi…” gojo prods. 

“do you know where my mom is?” 

there’s a pause. a very long pause where megumi feels like he’s being scrutinized.

he can tell that gojo is looking at him very closely, a microscope to megumi’s cell, even though he can’t see his eyes.

“i—“ gojo pulls a strand of hair by his ear. clearing his throat. “i, um, im not sure. why?” 

“no reason.” 

there’s a very weird wince on the man’s face. “do you want to… talk about them? your… parents?” 

“no,” megumi says immediately. 

gojo sighs. “look, i’ll tell you if you really want to know—“ 

“i don’t care. i just… i don’t care.” 

“…okay.” 

“okay.” 

the two of them are both lying. they have the same neck-scratching, and looking away tells. if you were in the room, you would be monitoring both of them very harshly. probably scolding them for the look on both of their faces.

gojo’s expression is so much weirder than megumi’s ever seen it. “are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” 

“i just wanted to know if you knew,” megumi says, crossing his arms, then doing it again. “i don’t care about them. they don’t care about me.” 

“well, i don’t know that—“ 

“no. you and y/n took us in and they didn’t care. so why should i?” 

“right.” gojo nods. “right we… took you in.” 

megumi nods, as a finality, and then deflates a little bit. 

he doesn’t care about his mom—whoever she is, wherever she might be. he doesn’t. he just… also doesn’t want to replace her. 

it feels wrong to think about. she doesn’t care about his life, so why should he care about hers? 

it's a stupid sort of guilt. if tsumiki said anything like it, megumi wouldn't talk to her for a week. 

but it's the sort of guilt over you, and a woman he knows nothing about. someone he doesn't really want to know about. 

maybe that makes it worse. 

“did someone say something at school?” 

megumi frowns. “no. why would they?” 

gojo shrugs. “kids are jerks,” he answers, simply, and then mutters “i would know…” under his breath, making megumi want to punch him again. 

“no one said anything.” 

“then why were you crying this morning?” 

“i wasn’t crying.” 

“hey,” gojo frowns. “crying is fine. it’s good.” 

“i know,” megumi crosses his arms. 

“okay, then.” 

megumi doesn’t even know why he wanted to talk to gojo in the first place. 

“look,” gojo sighs, his fingers tapping along the body of the chair. he whispers something that sounds suspiciously like “y/n is so much better at this,” and then meets megumi’s eyes—metaphorically, of course. everyone knows that gojo doesn’t have any eyes. “if you want to talk about your parents, we can talk about them. tsumiki asks questions every once in a while. and…” he breaks away, shaking his head. “if there’s something i don’t know, then i'll—we’ll figure it out. i’ve got eyes everywhere.” 

gojo is grinning at his little joke, but megumi’s frown deepens. 

"i don't care about them," he says, again, as a reassurance to them both. 

"they are your parents, you know?" he holds his hands up in defense, probably from the glare megumi is giving him. "i'm just saying. curiosity is normal." 

"how would you know?" 

gojo sighs, tilting his head back. he looks almost hurt. "i'm wise. i've got years of experience on you." 

"no, you don't." 

he shakes his head. "now i'm going to start crying." 

megumi stares at him. if he could trade gojo for literally anyone else in the world, he would. 

and yet, he doesn't want to talk to you about this. he doesn't want to talk at all. and he does. 

at least he knows that gojo won’t take any of this too seriously. that he won’t get to the bottom of the problem, like neither of them wants.

"do you think..." megumi starts, whispering. "do you ever regret taking us in?" 

gojo swallows. he looks almost hesitant to answer, but megumi knows that must be wrong. gojo has never hesitated a moment in his life.

"well, you guys are pretty mean to me. but no, we don't regret it. why would we?" he asks, teasing, like always. "children are for chores." 

megumi shakes his head. 

"you should--" gojo scrunches his nose. "i can get y/n. she's got better answers, anyway." 

"no!" megumi holds his hand out when the man begins to move from the chair, heart racing. "i don't want to talk to her." 

"did something happen with you guys? you think someone might mention it to me..." 

"no, nothing happened. i just... want to talk to you." 

gojo snorts, but he sits back down. "whatever you did, i'm sure it's not that bad. remember that time i set tsumiki's hair on fire when she was gone? that was bad." 

"i didn’t do anything. i'm not like you," megumi scowls, looking away. 

"would you like a reward?" gojo asks, dryly. "most people wouldn't openly admit that. i admire your confidence." 

both of them are silent, megumi considering the consequences of just saying the words out loud, nonetheless to gojo--who definitely won't know what to do with them. 

after a minute, gojo clears his throat. "okay, megumi. my turn. do you regret coming here with me? instead of going with your family? you'd be clan head someday, you know." 

"that place with the freaky shed of weapons you showed me?" 

"yup." 

"no," megumi doesn't have to think about that. "tsumiki's with me here. and i--"

i like it here, he almost slips. i love you guys.

megumi sighs. he doesn't want to say that to gojo. 

but the older man looks like he already knew what he meant, a dumb smile on his face. "good. okay. well, i don't know what's wrong with you," he gives megumi a pointed look, saying that he actually does. "but i'm sure it'll all work out. you've got me here, so there's nothing to worry about. and y/n would kill me if anything happened to you, so. don't worry about your parents, kid." 

megumi blinks at him. because his problems can be summed up with a quick "yeah, that's cool." 

he rolls his eyes. 

gojo's hand nudges his knee. "you can still ask if you want. anytime. we love you, you know? y/n more than me, but still..." 

megumi shakes his head. "well i love her more than you." 

"good. tsumiki's my favorite anyway." 

"good. she's the only one who can deal with you." 

"good," gojo retorts, like a child. 

he leans in, ruffling megumi's hair as he does it. "even if you are pretty annoying, i'll still do some research for you. see about your mom." 

"you don't have to--" 

"i can't pick you up every time you're crying in class," gojo shrugs, so simply. definitely a joke in the words, but no teasing. "and i won't tell y/n. but you should talk to her. she worries." 

"i know." 

gojo smiles. "okay. as long as you know." 

the two of them sit there for a while more, gojo making an awful comment every couple of lapses in silence, megumi answering with an equally sarcastic retort, and the two of them not minding at all. 

and megumi still can't get the question out--are you his mom?--but there's the undeinable feeling that no one else can answer it for him anyway. 

and gojo seems to know that, so he doesn't say anything about it. just lingers there, like an illness, waiting until megumi is okay, or maybe waiting for him to ask something else. 

even though megumi doesn’t want to give the man any credit, he knows that gojo understands a lot more than he lets on. and, just from the weird little prideful looks he gives him every time he says something, megumi knows that he probably gets what this is about.

but if gojo isn’t going to say anything, then neither is he.

still, it’s nice to have him here.

there’s no comforting glances, or squeezing of hands with gojo. no acute words and adept gestures.

megumi has never expected gojo to overcome his tendency towards immaturity, or to become something that he’s simply not.

but there is just this. just the man who’s been there for long enough for megumi to notice. to understand that he’s not going away so easily.

and it’s nice to have you both. (megumi won’t admit that the gratitude he has for his makeshift parents is much stronger, more vehement than any worry about biology, or being left behind).

eventually, megumi's eyes begin to droop, and even though his headache is less stress-induced, it's still there, a gentle pounding at his skull. 

like a reminder that things are going to change, even if he doesn't want them to. that he's growing up, and he can't protect everyone from his emotions forever. 

but megumi doesn't have enough energy to think about it. so he lays down against his pillows, eyelids fluttering open and closed. 

and he can just see it when gojo sneaks out of the room, whistling softly as he leaves, purposefully leaving the door open. 

megumi should've gone to live with that clan. 

*

"hey," you stand from your chair, looking not at satoru, but behind him, like the essence of their conversation is going to follow him through the door. "what'd he want? is he okay?" 

you dance on your feet awkwardly, looking like you were waiting that whole time (you were). 

satoru smiles, leaning on the counter to stare at you, at your nervous little lip bite. "he's fine." 

"is he feeling really sick? he told me he didn't want any medicine, but if he's got a headache or something, then i could give him a pain reliever. did he seem bad? should we take him to the doctor? i can probably schedule an appointment--" 

you're cut off by satoru as he nears you, crushing you against his chest in a hug so tight that it knocks the air from your lungs. 

seriously, jujutsu sorcerers and their sheer amount of muscle training are ridiculous. 

"satoru--" you squeeze out, but he holds you even tighter. 

"it's all good," he says like it's an answer, and he sounds like he knows something that you don't. probably because he does. 

but after a moment you relax into him. even if you have to bribe him with cuddles, someone's going to tell you what's going on... 

*

next part | series masterlist

[lucy90712]

kinda sad but reader distancing herself from jude bc she’s pregnant and don’t know how to tell him and he’s really scared bc he thinks she’s gonna leave him

A/n: I had to give this a happy ending as I have far too much angst to write that I needed a pick me up

Do it. Just do it. 

I have to keep telling myself those few words. In front of me sits a pregnancy test that I can't get myself to take as I don't want to know the answer. Jude and I have always been really careful as he doesn't want kids, I don't mind either way but because he doesn't want them we always try to be super safe. Despite that for the last few weeks I've just not felt right I've been feeling really nauseous and my period is now a week late which really only means one thing I just didn't want to believe it. As much as I know I'm almost definitely pregnant I don't want to take the test as that will confirm it and then I'll have to deal with the consequences.

How would I tell Jude? Would he leave me? Can I raise a baby on my own? All of those questions swirled round my brain as I still just stared at the test. Jude will definitely not be happy but if I am pregnant I don't want to get rid of the baby as I don't think I could handle all the emotions that come with that. If I don't get rid of the baby I can definitely see Jude breaking up with me which I understand he doesn't want kids and he's just starting out his career at Real Madrid he won't want a baby to look after so I'll probably be on my own in a city I don't know with no support. 

It got to the point that all of the questions were starting to eat away at me so to forget about them I decided just to take the test. What no one tells you about taking a pregnancy test is that the few minute wait for the result feels like a century I swear I was pacing back and forth forever before the screen displayed the result. I chose to take a digital test as it would tell me how many weeks I was as that's something I wanted to know too but then I realised that knowing how far along I am will make it feel a whole lot more real. There was no surprise when I finally looked at the test and it said pregnant 4-5 weeks. 

Finally seeing it confirmed made it impossible to hold back my tears any longer. Instinctively my hand went to my stomach as I thought about how in a few short months I will have a baby the baby that is currently growing inside me. The tears were a mix of happiness as somehow I was actually happy to know I was pregnant and anxiety as I have no idea what the future holds. 

~~~~~~~~~~

It has been a month since I found out I was pregnant and I'm now 10 weeks along. A few weeks back I went for my first ultrasound and got to see the baby and make sure everything was ok which it was. Jude still doesn't know, I've tried to tell him so many times but I just can't do it I either chicken out or the moment just doesn't feel right. I know I need to tell him soon as I'm already starting to develop a small bump which will only get bigger and sometimes I think Jude gets a bit suspicious when I won't eat certain things I usually love as I know they will make me sick. 

Over the past month I have definitely been a lot more distant with Jude which has meant he hasn't noticed when I've had really bad sickness days and that I have a small bump growing. It's hard hiding such a big secret from him which is part of why I've been so distant because I just want to tell him and for us to be a happy family but I know it won't go that way and I can't bare the thought of that. I love Jude so much and I don't want to ruin our relationship but I know at some point I'll have to tell him and deal with whatever heartbreak comes along with that. 

No one apart from me knows about my pregnancy not even my parents or my friends I have kept it a complete secret. Today though I'm seeing my friends and I know they are getting a bit suspicious as when we go out I'm always tired and I don't drink anymore. We aren't doing much today just going for brunch so I got up after Jude left for training and went to where we were supposed to meet. Once everyone was there we went in and got a table and I lasted less than a minute before the smell of someone's food made me feel so nauseous that I had to run to the bathroom. My best friend joined me to make sure I was ok but I knew she wasn't convinced when I said I was fine. 

"Are you ok?" The rest of the group asked 

"Yeah I'm fine" I said 

"What's going on girl you've been acting weird for a while now" my best friend said 

"Ok you guys can't say anything to anyone but I'm pregnant I found out a month ago and I've been hiding it because Jude doesn't want kids and I don't know how to tell him" I admitted 

None of them really knew what to say they all knew that Jude didn't want kids and a baby was never supposed to be part of our lives so they were as shocked as I was. After the initial shock they all started giving me advice and telling me everything would be fine. They all tried to reassure me that Jude wouldn't leave me when he found out but they did say I need to tell him at some point soon and I agree but it's hard to find the right words to say. 

Once I got back home I just sat in silence thinking about life and how I got to this point. I was so consumed with my thoughts that I didn’t hear the front door opening or Jude calling my name as he entered the house with increased panic when I didn’t reply. I only came back to reality when he was stood in front of me catching his breath after I nearly gave him a heart attack. There was a lot of staring at each other as I tried to find something to say while he tried to read me and work out what I was thinking. 

“Love are you ok and before you tell me you’re fine I know you’re not you’ve been acting strange for a while and I just want to know what I can do to make things better” he said 

Hearing him say that was too much for me I just burst into tears right in front of him. His arms made their way around me and he tried to calm me down but that didn’t help. This last month I’ve held back all of my emotions about this whole situation and now they are coming out all at once and I can’t hold them back any longer. I tried to tell him but the words couldn’t escape my mouth so instead I grabbed his hand and took him upstairs with me. I kept my pregnancy test and ultrasound pictures hidden away in my wardrobe so I found them and just placed them in Jude’s hands. This isn’t how I wanted to tell him but I think it’s the only way I can do it without having another breakdown. 

“What is this?” He asked 

“I’m pregnant” I said 

“I’m sorry I know you don’t want kids and we are always careful I don’t know how it happened and I just I’m just sorry” I rambled 

“Hey it’s ok calm down how long have you known?” He asked 

“I’ve known for a month and I’m 10 weeks now” I said 

“Wow we are going to be parents” he said hugging me tightly 

“Wait you aren’t mad” I questioned 

“No of course I’m not mad I’m actually really happy I know I said I didn’t want kids but more recently I started to change my mind especially seeing you with all the guys kids it made me want that with you I couldn’t be happier right now” he said 

“So you aren’t going to leave me?” I asked 

“Of course not I can’t wait to go through this whole journey with you I’m just sad I haven’t been there for you until now” he said 

Hearing that was such a relief but not at all what I expected. I’ve always been told things happen for a reason and this is one of those things I guess. Naturally Jude had a lot of questions so I told him everything like everything I know about the baby and how I’ve been feeling as he wanted to know how I’ve been coping. It felt so good to finally tell him everything and he seemed so genuinely happy which allowed me to actually think about how excited I am too as that’s something I’ve pushed away until now. 

After a long conversation we both went silent and just took a minute to take in what has just happened. As we sat there Jude’s hand made its way to my shirt which he lifted up slightly and just rested his hand on my tiny bump. I watched as the smile on his face got even bigger than it was before I could see him look at my almost non existent bump with so much love that it almost made me cry. This whole thing doesn’t seem anywhere near as scary now that I know Jude is here to support me and I already know he’s going to be the best dad if he loves our baby this much already.