#let me know if i need to adjust anything!

[lymtw]

Miss You Already

"Toji, you do this every time." You have your massive bear of a man clinging to you, watching you through the mirror on your vanity as you apply lipstick. He watches your fingers mold around the cylindrical make up product, before his attention shifts to the dark, bloody shade of red that you're smearing on your lips.

"Do you really wanna go? You don't have to. You can stay in with me," he suggests, wrapping his arms tighter around your waist.

You smile at him through the mirror, already noting the subtle longing expression on his face, though, you haven't even left, yet. "I'll be back, baby." You drop the lipstick into your make up bag and zip it up, taking one final look at yourself in the mirror to see if anything needs to be adjusted or tidied up.

"You don't have to go," Toji repeats, slowly dragging a hand up your body to cup your breast. Almost instantly, he feels your nipple harden and press against the material of your dress. "Stay and look pretty, just for me," he murmurs, rubbing the stiffened peak. His other hand pushes up your dress and makes its way between your thighs to tease you over your panties. "I'll take such good care of you. You won't even be bummed about ditching your friends."

You let out a soft sigh, when Toji's fingers apply pressure to your clothed clit, the sultry sound followed by an equally seductive laugh, as you gently pull his hands off of you and turn around to absorb the neediness he's doing a poor job of hiding.

"It's just a couple hours," you assure, but clearly, that's not enough of a reason for Toji to relent, because he wordlessly takes your hand and puts it on his clothed hard on. He moves your hand back and forth over the bulge, not breaking eye contact with you for a second. "I know, honey," you coo. "I'm sorry. I swear, i'll let you do whatever you want to me when I come back, okay? I'll make it up to you."

"No, doll. Please," he almost whines, walking into your embrace and burying his face into your neck. "Stay," he pleads, brushing his lips over your delicate skin. "I want you."

"Baby." You laugh, letting your hands settle on his back.

He's nosing at your neck and your jaw, getting strong whiffs of the pretty scent you spritzed on. "Need you, pretty. Please don't."

You don't know what it is about going out, that turns Toji into the clingiest man ever. Your friends tell you that their partners practically push them out the door and say that it's fine for them to go out, as long as they act responsibly, and yet here you are, fighting for your night out.

"Alright, Toji. Come on," you say, patting his back. He pulls away from you and follows you to the bed. "Sit, baby," you instruct, when he just stands there, staring at you like a dog that's about to be abandoned. He does as you say and sits down on the bed, watching as you climb up and sit on your knees. "Pull it out. Come on, let me see it," you say, with a sly little grin.

He lifts his hips and pulls down the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, freeing his drooling cock. He then wraps his hand around the length and smears his oozing precum over it, eliciting a few quiet, low groans. You crawl over to him and straddle his lap, holding his gaze with a soft smile on your face, when his hands go under the skirt of your dress to move your panties aside.

"I know you don't want me to go, baby," you start. His leaking tip meets your warm, soft skin and instantly, a chill runs down his spine. He pushes the tip in and you begin to slowly lower yourself onto him. "I-I know," you utter, trying to keep it together as you take in more and more of him. Once you're fully seated, you let out a sigh, and wrap your arms around his neck, leaning forward to speak softly into his ear. "I'll be back in a couple hours. Before midnight, love." You raise your hips and lower them again, luring a small, but needy groan from him. "You have my location, so you'll be able to see where I am."

"Mhm," Toji hums, dragging his blunt nails up and down your back.

"And you'll know when I'm on my way home," you murmur, kissing his earlobe and giggling at the sight of the lipstick that transferred onto his skin.

"Yeah... That too, mama," he replies. His hands go lower, beneath your dress, again, to rest on your ass for a mere second before he starts rubbing and squeezing it.

"And—fuck, baby—you'll see when i'm right around the corner."

"Twenty s-seconds," he says, breathily, as you leave more kisses on his ear.

"Right, twenty seconds," you say, pressing a kiss to his temple, knowing it'll leave a red lip print behind. "Twenty seconds, and the car-" you cut yourself off with a sharp gasp, lured out by the feeling of his fingers reaching your clit and rubbing it. "Fuck," you moan, when he bucks his hips up to meet your movements. "Twenty seconds and the... the car, will be parked in our driveway."

"And then you'll be home," Toji says, certainty riddling the statement.

"Then, I'll be home," you confirm, pressing a kiss beneath his eye, then another one on his cheek. You hear his low chuckles and when you lean back to look at him, he has the most lovestruck expression on his face. "What? You like my kisses?" You ask, reciprocating his loving gaze.

"Your lipstick is smudged," Toji says, his eyes pinpointed to the color that escaped the lines of your lips. You still look gorgeous, even with that slightly messy detail. His breath catches when you roll your hips on him a little faster and lean in to decorate his face with more a your warm, affectionate kisses. "Fucking love your kisses, ma." He can see hints of the color you left on his skin through his peripheral vision and he notices that each time you pull away, you have less color on your lips. By the time you finish covering his face and the side of his neck with kisses, the pigment that once was on your lips, remains as merely a faded blush.

"It's all gone, doll," Toji groans, breathing a little more heavily as you up the pace of your hips one more time. He sounds like he's just as close to his peak as you are.

"I know... It's okay. Do I still look pretty?" You ask, your breathy laugh mingling with the sweetness of your sultry sounds. Without a warning, Toji leans in and kisses you in a manner full of affirmation. He's guiding your hips, assisting you in quickly bouncing up and down his cock, now. Every sound you make is sealed in the kiss and greedily devoured by him, and when you both cum, the kiss gets sloppy and you lose synchronization, leaving both of you to just moan, groan, and pant into each others mouths. The overly tight grip he uses to still your hips to avoid overstimulation, would be painful if you weren't so blissed out by your orgasm.

"Fucking gorgeous," Toji mumbles. He tilts your head slightly to expose the side of your neck and presses gentle kisses along the area, just before sucking on the delicate skin and leaving his own longer lasting mark on you. "There you go, pretty baby. Gave you a little peck, too," he says, after rubbing the small patch of his saliva into the mark.

The sight before you makes a lazy smile curl on your lips. Toji's entire face is scattered with your red kiss prints—even his lips have a slight tint to them. He looks loved, and by the looks of the soft expression on his face, he must feel like it, too.

You slowly lift yourself off of Toji and he fixes your underwear, patting the front, before letting you get off the bed. You head to the bathroom to fetch him a towel, and once you hand it to him, you make your way over to your vanity and use a make up wipe to remove the previous layer of lipstick, so you can reapply a new layer on a clean slate.

You see Toji looking at you from his spot on the bed and smile at him before zipping up your make up bag. Once you feel satisfied with the way you look and you finish buckling the ankle straps of your heels, you go over to Toji to say goodbye.

"You look like Valentine's Day incarnate," you tease, running a thumb over one of the kisses on his cheek. He wants to smile, but all he can think about is how in a minute, you'll be gone and he'll be spending the next few hours alone. You see that same longing look from before return. He looks so soft and it's chipping at your heart, but you can't fall for it. He does this every. time. It's only a couple hours. You'll be back with him before you know it.

"Take a nap or try to sleep through. When I get back and finish dressing down, I'll slide right into bed with you, alright?" You offer him a soft smile, and wait for him to respond so that you can go.

Toji sighs, like it physically pains him to watch you leave. It's not going to be as easy to get to sleep without you. Getting a taste of your loving just made him want you to stay even more, but he knows he can't keep you from spending time with your friends. They don't see you every day, and he does. He wakes up to you every morning, he spends the rest of his day with you when he comes home from work—with the exception of those few times he accepts invites to hang out with his colleagues. Even on those rare occasions, he's never experienced you trying to convince him to staying home, because you know, at the end of the day, he'll take his place next to you in bed. Plus, it's not like you're sleeping over at one of their houses. When you're done hanging out with your friends, you'll come home, and you'll sleep next to him, as always.

"Yeah, okay," Toji says, finally letting up, to avoid holding you back any longer. "Call me for whatever reason. You know you don't need one."

You lean down and leave a dark red kiss on his forehead, then wait for him to meet you halfway for a peck on the lips. "Love you," you murmur.

"Love you, ma," Toji responds, catching one more sweet smile from you, before you leave the bedroom and set out for your night.

[thequeenofneverland1]

Being the Granddaughter of Oh Il-nam and the wife of the Front Man Would Include

Anonymous Request: hi can you do a headcannon of Being the Granddaughter of Oh Il-nam and the Wife of the Front Man Would Include please and thank you!!

You were deeply involved in the creation of the Squid Game, working alongside your grandpa.

Some of the iconic games, especially the more psychologically challenging ones, were your ideas. “What do you think about this, Grandpa? Imagine the fear when they realize the glass could break beneath them.” Your grandpa chuckled, patting your shoulder. “You’re as sharp as I hoped you’d be. This one will keep them on their toes.”

You first noticed the man when he participated in the games.

Although you only saw him through the screens, his determination and strategic mind stood out to you. “Player 132 is different,” you mused, watching him survive yet another round. “He’s not just playing to win. he’s observing, planning.” Your grandpa nodded beside you. “Those are the qualities of a survivor. Let’s see if he has what it takes.”

When he emerged as the winner, you were impressed and curious. Your grandpa invited him for a private meeting. “You didn’t just win the game; you conquered it,” your grandpa said, offering him a drink.” He glanced at the two of you cautiously. “I survived because I had no other choice. What do you want from me now?” Your grandpa smiled. “To give you a choice. Join us, and I’ll show you a world you could never imagine.”

Your grandpa made him his right-hand man for the following game, a decision that surprised you. Why him?” you asked your grandpa. “He’s new to all of this.” That’s exactly why,” your grandpa replied. “He sees things we don’t. Watch and learn, my dear.”

During the next game, you and he spent more time together as you helped him adjust to his new role. You’re surprisingly calm for someone thrown into all this,” you said one evening, handing him a report. He smirked. “And you’re surprisingly warm for someone who helps create these games.”

After working together for months, the bond between you grew stronger, and he finally decided to confess his feelings. “Can I ask you something?” he said one evening as you walked together near the game facility.” You glanced at him. “What’s on your mind?”He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I know this world we’re in isn’t exactly normal, but… I like you. A lot. Would you be my girlfriend?”You smiled, feeling warmth in a life otherwise filled with coldness. “I thought you’d never ask. Yes, I will.”

Your grandpa’s passing was sudden, leaving both of you to navigate the aftermath. He wanted you to lead this,” you told him, holding back tears. “He believed in you.”He looked at you, his expression conflicted. “I don’t know if I can live up to that.”

When He Became the Front Man “Are you ready to take the responsibility?” You asked he donned the mask for the first time. “Of course I am and having you by my side. We will be unstoppable.” 

Despite the darkness surrounding your lives, he proposed to you in one of the rare quiet moments He reached into his pocket, pulling out a ring. “I don’t have much to offer except this life we’ve built. Will you marry me?” Tears filled your eyes as you nodded. “Yes. I’ve already chosen this life with you. might as well make it official.”

Married life in your world was unlike anything normal couples experienced. You worked side by side, overseeing the games while trying to keep some semblance of normalcy.

As your marriage went on working together to create new games, each more elaborate and psychological than the last. “What about a game that tests loyalty?” you suggested one evening. “Make them choose between saving themselves or someone else.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Cruel, but effective. That’s why I need you. always one step ahead.”

The next game began, and together you implemented new challenges, ensuring they would be more psychological and intense than ever. “This one will push them to their limits,” you said, reviewing the game plan. He nodded, looking at your mask and his. “They’ll either survive or break. That’s the point.”

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 32 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You're struggling through your pregnancy, trying to stay calm as your worries about Bradley grow as quickly as the baby. Bradley wants to put his best foot forward at work, making himself available for office hours, but maybe he's made himself too accessible.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, smut, pregnancy topics, lactation kink, jealous

Length: 3400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley's new office was coming along nicely. Everything was standard issue Navy grade, but he started adding some touches here and there to make it look more personal. The file cabinet was covered in ultrasound photos, one column of Rosie and one of her younger sibling. 

He glanced at the wedding photo on his desk before adjusting it and wincing. You were still mad this morning that he overdid it at the Hard Deck last night, but he wished you would just let it go. It's not like he drove home drunk or anything. Nat and the guys were just excited to learn he was going to have another kid. The drinks just kept coming.

There was a knock on the door, and then Maverick poked his head inside. "You have a minute?"

"Yeah," Bradley replied, waving him inside. "It's not like I can tell you no. You're my commanding officer, Mav."

The older man chuckled, setting some folders on the desk. "I need you to keep all of the forms updated for each of the pilots. It's best if you work on it every day and then update the hard copies. You should have time to do this between visits during your office hours."

Today was the first time Bradley was holding office hours, and honestly he felt a bit like a college professor: the aviators were kind of his students, and he was responsible for making sure they were prepared to fly.

"Not sure how busy my office hours will be," Bradley muttered. He should probably send a text to remind you he'd be home a little later than usual tonight. While he didn't want to make a habit of missing dinner with his girls, this was a far cry better than being deployed. 

"You might be surprised," Maverick replied with a smile as he backed toward the door. "You've got a lot to show the others, Lieutenant Commander."

Then he was gone, and Bradley could feel the warmth rising in his cheeks. He just wanted to prove himself, but the first time someone had him up against the wall, scrambling for an answer, he wasn't sure what he was going to do. He'd only started to advertise his extra hours during today's lecture, so it would probably be another week or so until someone came to him for any sort of guidance on a Monday evening. But he would try to be ready.

He was just opening one of the folders from Maverick when there was another knock on his door. This time when he looked up, he was met with a flight suit complete with a Golden Warriors patch identical to the one he wore. That would have been enough to let him know it was Indigo, but then he met her eyes as he stood up behind his desk.

"Lieutenant Jeffries," he greeted with a smile as she strode inside. "How can I help you?"

She studied his face with a knowing look for a few seconds before breaking out into a smile of her own. "Sir, I can think of so many ways you could help me. It's not even funny."

Bradley blinked, brow furrowed as he examined her. "Well, why don't you start with an easy one? It's been a long day. And something tells me you might be regretting the late start you got at the Hard Deck last night."

Her laughter filled the room. "I could never regret finding the officer hangout before the rest of my peers from Texas. I need to keep the edge I have over Rex and Spice." When she started to close the door, Bradley frowned.

"Keep it open," he said casually, reaching out to catch it before it shut. He didn't want anyone thinking he was playing favorites, and the little pout on Indigo's lips convinced him she wanted to be his favorite aviator. But she didn't argue. She simply sat down on the edge of the couch and looked up at him.

"The easiest way you can help me is by telling me where I can improve," she said, fingers toying with the zipper at her neck. "I want to be the best you've ever seen."

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

You couldn't tell if Cat was actually annoyed with you or if she was just teasing, but you were too exhausted from a restless night to care.

"I can't believe Bradley told Jake you're pregnant before you told me yourself! I just saw you last night!"

Her gaze dipped down to your belly as you stood before her in the lab. You knew you were showing. There was no denying it now. You had a bunch of appointments coming up with Dr. Morris, and you were just going to keep getting bigger until you had to wear the maternity tent again. You knew you were already huge and that you'd probably never be your normal size ever again. And the last thing you wanted was Cat Coleman of all people scrutinizing your appearance when she always looked pristine.

Everything was made worse by Bradley's interactions with Indigo. She was everywhere on base, but now she had taken over your bar, too. You saw her this morning but managed to duck out of the way before those piercing eyes landed on you. She knew what you looked like now, and Cat's gaze lingering on your belly was doing nothing to give you a boost of confidence.

"Please make sure you're eating and drinking enough," she told you. "We don't want another repeat of Annapolis where you could barely give a presentation. Or a repeat of the day you fell at work."

You gritted your teeth. "This pregnancy doesn't even feel like my last one. Okay? I'm eating just fine. Too well, actually."

You turned on your heel, boot squeaking on the floor and headed out to collect Rose from daycare. Everything was just a reminder of your size right now. Visions of candy bars danced in your head as you told yourself you'd go home and eat a sensible dinner while Bradley held his office hours. But you already knew... you just knew Indigo would squeeze her way in there with her pretty eyes and her perky tits. And your husband seemed to be oblivious to her. At least you'd tried to convince yourself he wasn't actively looking. But you knew she found him attractive. You could smell it on her a mile away.

Tears filled your eyes as you approached the daycare facility. If he was looking at her, you couldn't blame him. Indigo was beautiful, her body stunning even in her flight suit. Meanwhile you looked like an exhausted, lumpy, khaki-covered potato with acne and zero energy.

"Let's go home," you whispered to Rose, trying to smile at the daycare staff as you pushed her out in her stroller.

You were absolutely fine. You were totally fine. Or at least you would be. Or at least that's what you kept telling yourself.

But all week long, you heard the same collection of call signs spilling from Bradley's lips, and Indigo's was always the first one. She was the fastest, most cunning, smartest, most decisive pilot he'd ever flown with. Any time you asked him a question about work, she was the answer. And he was late coming home almost every day.

"Hey, Sweetheart. Sorry, I had to stay in the infirmary with Spice after she strained her shoulder," he said, rushing inside on Friday night as you made dinner. "She couldn't even raise her arm to get her helmet off."

He kissed your cheek, letting his hand rest on your belly for a beat before he ended up on the floor next to Rose's play mat where she was trying her hardest to crawl to Tramp. As soon as Bradley showed up, she changed her mind and tried to get to him instead.

You pressed your lips together as you turned off the stove burner. "Did anyone else stay with you and Spice?"

"Yeah, Indigo hung out," he replied easily, brushing his fingers along Rose's hair with a smile. You swallowed hard, watching him on his hands and knees in his khaki uniform. He looked so good. Like ridiculously good. Broad shoulders and big biceps and a handsome smile.

"Why am I not surprised?" you muttered, turning away from him.

"I think they're friends," he said. "It's kind of amusing getting to experience the love and hate dynamics amongst the group. The women tend to stick together on the ground, but anything goes in the air."

Your stomach ached with hunger pangs, and the only thing you wanted to eat was ice cream. When you realized you'd eaten a frozen burrito barely an hour ago, you desperately wanted to go to bed hungry, but you started to feel guilty about the baby.

"My parents listed their house today," you announced, trying to change the subject before you started to cry.

"Did you hear that, Nugget?" Bradley scooped Rose up in his arms and carried her into the kitchen where you were plating two meals. "Your grandparents are moving here to spend more time with you. And next summer, we'll take you and your little brother or sister back to Virginia to see where ol' Goose and Carole used to live, okay?"

He peppered her face with kisses until she was giggling wildly, and every negative thought started to get fuzzy around the edges. When his brown eyes met yours, you nodded toward the table, and his arm slipped around your waist.

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

Bradley came home from his office hours on Monday to find you wearing only his old UVA shirt. The soft cotton was hugging your bump and showing off your legs, and he was ready to get on his knees and beg for you.

After he put Rose in her crib for the night, he met you in bed where you were wearing your glasses, your face freshly scrubbed. He was plainly getting hard in his gym shorts the more he looked at you. It was so obvious. When you stood on your knees and coaxed him closer with your finger, he met you there.

"I hope you know how good you have it, Roo," you whispered against his lips.

He knew. He knew all about it. He let his hand slide down over your belly, keeping you in place when you tried to scoot away. Then his fingers slowly yanked up the hem of his shirt until he was touching your pussy. 

"Of course I know it, Baby Girl." He circled your clit with his middle finger before slipping it inside you. "I've got my Rosie. And my hot, pregnant wife with her perfect pussy." When you whimpered, he kissed your nose. "I've got it all."

You dragged the shirt up over your belly and chest, tossing it aside. For a beat, Bradley went completely dizzy at the sight of your tits. Then you made everything better by placing your hands on your breasts, working them until beads of milk appeared. Your head was tipped back, pussy squeezing his middle finger, and Bradley almost lost his mind.

His kisses were rough. He knew it. But you were whining Roo as he got undressed, and then you were guiding his lips to your tits. He had to have it dirty. His cock was so fucking hard, he needed to make you scream.

"Oh, fuck," he growled as his lips grazed your nipple, lapping up your milk until he thought he was going to pass out. Every inch of your body was so sweet and supple, but he wanted you babbling and begging.

Bradley meticulously cleaned you up until you were clinging onto him, then he pushed you onto your back. Without hesitation, he started fucking you. When you needed a hand over your mouth to keep from waking Rose, he was all too happy to help. When you spread your legs wider, he watched his cock glide inside your welcoming body over and over again until he felt his orgasm in his balls.

"Shit. I'm gonna cum," he groaned, waiting until you nodded against his palm to lose himself. Hips thrusting, filling you with shallow strokes, he fucked you until your pussy was dripping. He watched the mess he made dribble down your ass before catching it with his fingertips. "I swear I don't think I can keep my cock out of you long enough for you to not be pregnant ever again."

You snorted before reaching for his hand and bringing it to your lips. "After this one, I'm going right back on the pill. No more slip ups," you whispered. Bradley watched as your tongue darted out, licking his sticky cum and swallowing every drop.

"No more slip ups," he echoed, smiling at your belly. He'd never consider this a mistake. Not in a million years. A surprise? Absolutely. But not a mistake.

Bradley's phone lit up where it had been discarded on the floor when you slipped into the bathroom. He had a text from an unknown number with a Virginia area code. At first, he thought it might be his cousin Brenda letting him know she had a new phone number, but when he opened the message, his brow creased in confusion at first.

Lieutenant Commander, thanks for spending so much time with me today in your office today.

Only three people had been in his office with him earlier. One was Maverick. One was Forrest who he had to reprimand. The third was Indigo. Bradley hadn't been giving out this number, but it was readily available if anyone wanted to look through the registry in the lobby of the building where his small office was housed.

He scratched the rough stubble along his jaw, contemplating if he should respond after nine in the evening. He saved her number under her call sign and tossed his phone on the bed when you walked back in with a smile on your face. He should wait until the morning to respond if at all.

You yawned when he passed you. "I'm ready for bed, Roo."

"Give me a minute to brush my teeth, and I'm right behind you."

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

By the end of the week, your parents had two offers on the house where you were raised. They were officially downsizing to a cute bungalow a few streets over in Coronado, and you were excited. Or you wanted to be.

But every time you let your heart fill with happiness over your parents or the baby, you remembered that Indigo was texting your husband. You saw it for yourself. Right after he fucked you so good, you could barely walk, you glanced down at his phone on your bed. He had her number saved in his phone, and you wanted to cry.

You could ask him for permission to look at his phone. You could see what his reaction was. That would give you a good gauge of what exactly was going on between them. But Bradley had never once asked you to hand your phone over to him. He'd ever insinuated that there would be a reason he didn't trust you. 

Unsure what else to do, you sat in your office during your lunch break and cried. The tears were hot and miserable on your cheeks, and a headache instantly started brewing behind your eyes. It took you almost ten minutes to get yourself under control, and by then you didn't even feel like going to the cafeteria for food.

When someone knocked, you looked up at your door. Maybe it was Bradley. Maybe you could get his phone from him somehow and check it yourself. "Come in," you called, voice soft from all the tears you'd shed. Instead of your husband, Jake strolled inside. "Did you get lost? Cat's probably in the lab."

"Aww, come on, Angel," he drawled, dropping down into your extra chair. "I came all the way up here to see you."

"Oh." You were a little surprised. Everyone was so busy as the last quarter of the year was beginning, you felt like you hadn't seen much of him.

"Why do you look so sad?" he asked, already leaning forward to stand again. "Want me to grab you and the baby something to eat and bring it up here?"

"No," you told him quickly. "I'm fine. Just a little stressed." You tried to smile, but you felt like you could cry again. "Are you having a slow day?"

"Nah." He leaned back with his arms crossed over his chest. "Just had to get away from your annoying husband and his band of misfits clogging up the comms with their exercises."

"Band of misfits?" you asked with a soft laugh.

"Bunch of children," he replied with an eye roll. "Look like they just graduated from high school." His eyes went wide. "Oh shit, that probably means I look old now."

"You don't look too bad for someone older than me," you promised with a smirk. "Hey, do you know anything about any of those new pilots?"

"I know they like to hog the line in the cafeteria. One of them took the last slice of pizza yesterday, and I had to wait for a new pie to finish baking. Food should be based on seniority. I outrank all of them."

You were laughing at his smile now. "Hey, maybe I should get something to eat. And it might be nice to get out of my office for a few minutes."

"I'll walk you down." Jake stood and helped you to your feet. "Can't hang out too long though. Mav has a fire under his ass about getting Phoenix, Bob and I in the air this afternoon."

You headed to the cafeteria with Jake, getting a chance to hear his side of the wedding plans after listening to Cat for weeks. They wanted something small and simple, but he assured you there would be room for the Bradshaws on the guest list. Once you had a tray piled high with a salad, breadsticks and once slice of pizza, you took a seat while Jake headed back out to the tarmac to get back to work.

Your lunch tasted incredible. The cheese from the pizza was practically melting in your mouth. When the cafeteria started clearing out, there were only a few tables occupied, and you started stacking the plates on your tray. You could have a calm, reasonable conversation with your husband. He'd let you look at his phone, and everything would be fine.

"Okay, but what's up with Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw?"

Your eyes darted up from your tray to find two officers sitting a short distance away. The one facing you had a patch on her flight suit that said SPICE, and you recognized her call sign from conversations with Bradley.

"He's hot, but he's wearing a wedding band," she added.

You swore your heart stopped at her words. Then you realized that the woman with her back to you was Indigo. Her jet black hair was wound up in a tight bun that accentuated her long neck even from behind, and her laughter set your teeth on edge.

"I already told you," she said, and you had to stop breathing to make sure you heard every word. "His wife is a civvy. I saw her at the bar the only night he showed up. They have one kid, and apparently she's pregnant again. At least that's what I heard Lieutenant Trace saying."

"What does his wife look like?" Spice asked, casually taking a sip of her drink as if your world wasn't crumbling to pieces.

"It was hard to tell in the dark, but her face seemed okay. Nice-ish body, but come on..." Indigo gestured to herself. "The man's only human, and his wife is definitely older than me. That much is easy to tell. And she'll be huge again soon."

You tried to get up from your seat quickly, fighting with yourself to get out of the room, but it was too late. Both of them were standing now, still chatting as Indigo turned your way. As soon as her eyes landed on your face, you saw them widen. That pretty blue color looked terrifying as a smile of recognition spread across her lips.

Indigo absolutely knew who you were now. Her eyes dipped down to the hyphenated name pinned against your chest, and now she knew you weren't a random civilian. She knew you were an officer who worked on North Island. She knew way too much as she took in every inch of your body. And she looked really pleased by what she saw.

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

He has his sweet moments, but Roo doesn't see the bigger picture here. Next chapter will reveal if Rose is going to have a brother or a sister. Any guesses? Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@solacestyles

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

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[tastesousweet]

⭒ crush

| hamzahthefantastic x youtuber!reader au

summary: hamzah has a crush that is extremely obvious to everyone except you ... somehow?! (both written & smau!!!)

a/n: happy new years!!!!!!

— march 2024

hamzah is hungry beyond belief.

martin's already assured him both over facetime and text that he's on his way with their full course meal of chinese takeout— currently sat in the basket of martin's rented bike, jostling up and down with every bump of the toronto pavement without a doubt. yet his stomach is still throwing a tantrum, depraved of any nutrients while his brain repeats in a neanderthal-like manner "food. coming. soon." in hopes of reducing the pressure within his poor stomach.

he opens instagram, needing some sort of an escape, because naturally a little doom-scrolling will ease his (dramatic but still very real) pain. somehow, among the ridiculous animal reels and comedic twitch clips on his explore feed, he stumbles upon a reel from you. a girl with a different quality and charm to your face and character than anything he's seen in other content creators.

not only does your bubbly yet elegant voice keep him watching but the subject matter is rather fitting— you're cooking a homemade chicken pot pie for the first time. in the video you talk about how often your mother would prepare it growing up and now it's become a popular craving for you. hamzah watches intently as if he were ready to get up and make his own pot pie alongside you.

"hey! the hell are you smiling at?" martin's voice is breathy due to his trek to and from the chinese restaurant. he walks into the living room holding a crinkly plastic bag reading: "thank you! have a nice day!" with that big, yellow smiley face in between.

"huh? nothin'." hamzah dismisses and adjusts himself on the couch, "come on, 'm starving!" he reaches his hand out to take the food from martin before patting the seat next to him.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

— june 2024

"so when are you gonna come see us?"

it was a surprise to see hamzah follow you on instagram a few months ago. you'd heard his name thrown around in certain spaces of the internet but never really indulged in any of his content.

his instagram had the format of a shitposting ten-year-old but it only made you curious about the humorous twenty-something. eventually you'd watched a youtube video of his; completely laughing your ass off and finding your eyes chasing after hamzah whenever he was in even the tiniest of frames.

it was never a serious crush by any means, just a nice piece of secret eye-candy who also happened to have a great personality and an enviously good work ethic (the effort martin and hamzah put into their videos was astonishing to you).

so you were quite nervous to be the first to dm him, in hopes of a friendship or a least a quick exchange of "hey." it was only right — you two had been liking each other's poss and stories a consistent amount.

the mellow first exchange between the two of you in april blossomed into you both constantly talking in your free time; your friendship quickly to developed a flirty back-and-forth dynamic that sometimes borders on way more than platonic. eventually martin was added to your consistent facetime calls and you’ve even let them convince you to create a discord account to play minecraft and grand theft auto online with them.

and now you’re lying on your leather couch with both of their faces displayed in your laptop’s screen, eager to hear your response.

“i don’t know…” you play with a loose end of the sweater you’re wearing, “what would we even do?”

they both stay quiet for a moment before hamzah laughs, “why are you acting like you don’t wanna say yes right now?”

a smile slowly grows on your face “okay… gimme a second,” you begin to google flight information to and from toronto.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

— september 2024

yourusername

Liked by clairedrake, hamzahthefantastic, and others

yourusername Y’all didn’t tell me they get wild in the 6 , Omg??!! Highly requested video out neow <3

View all comments

chaserutherford 🍽️8️⃣ • ♥︎ by author

yourusername I rlly do miss u already 😖😖😖😖

ynfan01 ohhhh this was so necessary thank u mother☺️!! • ♥︎ by author

yourusername Mhm!!! Olivia Wilde head nod 💞💞

slushieeee333 y/n: slurping pasta , hamzah the whole time: 😊👀😍😊

thatmartinkid hey look ma i made it!!! 🫵😂 • ♥︎ by author

ynsnumberone THE FLIRTING WENT CRAZYYYYY

slushedyn her and hamzah are obsessed with each other i fear

thatslushykid COME BACK 2 TORONTO ASAP I NEED MORE COLLABS RN!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

hamzahluver45 ok but like it’s so obvious that her trying to flirt was just irritating them the whole time !! Like girl ..💀💀

hamzahthefantastic Posting our dms is already one thing , but TAGGING ME is actually crazy 🤔🤔 • ♥︎ by author

yourusername R u mad @ me Bby???? 😕

hamzahthefantastic BruhLmaooooooooooo

freakzahfan that's one too many "o"s just say u wanna kiss her my boy

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“oh!” you accidentally trip over yourself while walking backwards and stumble into hamzah, who was standing in front of the unfamiliar grocery store, watching you prepare to give an intro. “jesus,” martin laughs under his breath from behind the camera. he lowers the camera, showing his feet but still picking up his voice in the mic, “you good?!”

the clip cuts to you stood upright again, "i'm in the six!!!" you exclaim loudly, raising your arms above your head. "and i'm here with slushy noobz to add to my series where other creators "teach me" their specialty. you tug at hamzah's arm and pull him into the frame with you, "hamzah tell them what you and martin are gonna teach me," you look up a him while still holding onto his arm. you interrupt him before he even begins to speak, "oh yeah! martin is also here by the way!" you point and martin flips the camera to himself. "they're just leaving me out it's fine, i know i'm out already, just vote just vote," he references with a sigh before turning it back to you and hamzah. "don't start! chase is on his way to come and film for us-" "listen! this is our plan-- we're gonna teach you how to mukbang; everyone knows we're very qualified in this field and know everything there is to know about the subject, so, uhh, yeah we're kinda experts. i dont know, would you say that, martin?" hamzah rambles. "yeah, i think that's a good way to describe us" "perfect! then you're teachin' me how to kiss next, right?" you ask. hamzah goes from looking at you attentively (hanging onto your every word) to a face deadpanned as he glances over to martin trying not to smile.

the video cuts to a clip with the three of you, finally, all in one shot now that chase is behind the camera. you pull a cart out from its slot and push yourself on it before standing both feet on top of the tiny foot bar, gliding through the automatic doors.

next, a clip of martin speaking to the camera while you and hamzah look through different pasta sauces together, "okay we didn't really explain this well but essentially we're all going to cook a nice dish and then eat it together in front of you guys. isn't that cute?" "yeah, can't wait for us to mukbang together" hamzah speaks. martin turns back to the camera with a smirk, "i bet you wish you were mukbanging with us huh, chase?" "no. and you just made that word up." martin's face falls.

the entire grocery shopping trip is filmed with little moments like hamzah mispronouncing a few brand names, martin talking to strangers about which pasta noodle to try, and you randomly walking off into estranged aisles "just to see if things are really different here"

now, you're all back at martin's home; you read aloud the recipe and hamzah is stood practically on top of you as he also looks down at the phone, all while martin lays ingredients out of the counter. "okay simple enough," hamzah says. "yeah, and you're still gonna make me do all of the work anyway," martin huffs sarcastically. you giggle a bit, "martin the most you'll have to do is boil water, i'll force him to do the rest." "huh???!! who??" hamzah questions, his smiley face “accidentally” leaning far too close to yours. "you, duh!" you laugh and turn away to look for a large pot.

throughout the cooking process you slowly stop helping; talking to mandy while you two eat chips and salsa while leaning on the counter or petting the pets instead of doing any of the tasks given to you from the self-proclaimed chefs.

"this is literally your video! what the hell y/n?!" martin whines when he finds you and mandy making a tiktok in his "man cave" together after you'd told them you were going to the bathroom, "seriously mandy?" all of the audio can be heard from the mics on your clothing. "where was she?" hamzah says monotonous as he scrolls on his phone. "making freaking tiktoks with mandy of course!" you giggle as you walk into the kitchen behind him, "what? the food is practically done, we're just waiting on garlic bread!" you shrug and hamzah immediately turns at the sound of your voice. "well, you gonna at least show us?" hamzah asks casually placing his hands on the counter around you, trapping you in the space between him and the marble surface. "yeah," you tilt your head so you can look at his face as you make fun of his not-so-friendly gesture, "you wanna keep breathing down my neck like that while i show you?" he laughs and moves away to cover up the embarrassment of being called out. "stop!" you laugh and bring him back into frame forcing him and martin to watch you and mandy dance on your phone screen.

the four of you sit on the carpet with plates full of chicken alfredo and pieces of garlic bread laid out on martin’s coffee table. you all talk about your experience in toronto so far, how you and hamzah first met, … et cetera.

martin attempts to teach you canadian slang: “keener is big here.” “actually? what the hell does that even mean?” “it’s kinda like a try hard— people will call you a keener if you’re doing too much, basically.” “wait tell me more!” “i mean things like buddy is way too common here. some random old guys will call me that and it always throws me off??” “yeah they always say it so demeaning,” hamzah laughs. “do you guys actually say ‘eh?’ all the time? i feel like i haven’t noticed it a lot.” you ask genuinely. “i won't lie.. i say it more often than i like to admit!” mandy says. you’ve noticed that no matter if you’re the one speaking or not hamzah’s eyes keep glancing and sometimes full on staring at you (he really doesn’t mean to but he thinks he’s finally processing that you’re actually here with them after months of wanting this) you're flattered nonetheless.

at some point hamzah and martin recreate a scene in lady and the tramp, successfully slurping at the same noodle until hamzah retreats and martin sighs at his lack of commiting to the bit. you laugh along before asking hamzah’s to share a noodle with you with a smile slapped over your face, “me next?” he fights off any blushing with a roll of his eyes and his response of, “yeah? ask me again in a sec.”

after you’ve all finished eating, you complete the video with a big smile and a promise of more collaborations in the future.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

•••

[eiralunaire]

Dick was sitting on the couch in the common room at Wayne Manor, checking out a coffee he'd ordered for delivery, when Damian walked in with his typical serious expression. Grayson looked up with a sly grin; his younger brother was about to receive news that would make him explode.

“Damian, little bro, I need you to block your schedule for tomorrow night,” Dick said, his tone casual, as he stirred his coffee.

“Why?” Damian asked, frowning.

“I got you a date.”

Damian stopped in his tracks abruptly, his green eyes glaring at Dick.

“A what?”

“A date. With Reader,” Dick replied, matter-of-factly, as if he'd just said the weather was nice.

Damian's silence was deafening. His jaw tensed as he processed the information, but his discomfort was evident.

“I don’t need you to butt into my personal life, Grayson.”

“Of course you do.” Dick stood up from the couch and crossed his arms, staring at him. “You’ve been obsessing over this girl for years, following her, investigating her, and you haven’t done anything about it. Nothing! For God’s sake, Damian, you’re twenty-five, not sixteen.”

“My reasons for investigating Reader are professional,” Damian replied, his voice firm.

“Professional?” Dick let out a laugh. “Since when is looking at pictures of her in lingerie ‘professional’? Because from what I saw in your room, it looks more like a… very detailed study.”

The color rose to Damian’s face.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, yes I do. And I’ll spare you the embarrassment of having to explain yourself further. Reader has agreed to meet with you tomorrow, and I hope you’ll be honest with your feelings this time.” Or at least take the opportunity to clear everything up.

Damian spent the rest of the day in a state of controlled irritation. Though he hated to admit it, a part of him was curious about what Reader had to say. However, the thought that his older brother had arranged all of this was deeply humiliating.

“Grayson is an idiot…” he muttered as he looked through his wardrobe. He didn’t want to look too formal or too casual. In the end, he opted for a fitted black shirt and dark trousers. Something simple but elegant.

Before he left, he looked at himself in the mirror one last time, adjusting his watch.

“It’s just a conversation. Nothing more.”

The date took place at a discreet, elegant restaurant that Dick had booked. Reader arrived first, wearing a cream-colored skirt and jacket set that made her look sophisticated and professional. Her hair was pulled back in a low bun, with loose strands framing her face.

When Damian walked in, he saw her sitting at a table near the window. She was looking at her phone indifferently, but when she looked up and saw him, her expression remained neutral.

“You’re on time. That’s good,” Reader said, as he sat down across from her.

“I’m not in the habit of keeping people waiting,” Damian replied, his tone dry.

She took a sip of her wine before speaking, her gaze fixed on him.

“I know we’re both in our twenties, Damian, and we’re adults. So I’m going to be direct with you.”

Damian frowned, taken aback by the bluntness of her tone.

“Your brother Grayson told me that you’ve been researching me for years. That my photos from when I was a model “inspire” you. And that leads me to wonder: why so much interest in me?”

Damian kept his composure, though the discomfort was palpable.

“My interest has nothing to do with those photos.” My interest lies in who you are and what you do.

Reader watched him for a moment, as if evaluating his answer.

“Fine. Then I propose this: if it’s true that you have no romantic interest in me, let’s have sex and you’ll end your obsession with following me.”

Damian stood completely still, his eyes wide with surprise.

“What?”

“Yes, sex,” she repeated, matter-of-factly. “It’s a fair exchange. Or… if you want to court me, I won’t object. But if not, this is the most efficient.”

The tension in the air was unbearable. Damian didn’t know whether to feel insulted, impressed, or completely baffled.

“Is this some kind of joke?” he finally managed to say.

“No, Damian. It’s a practical solution.” Reader leaned back in his chair, his gaze direct. But, if you're not interested in either option, we can pretend this conversation never happened.

Damian rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to regain control of the situation.

"I'm not interested in something as superficial as meaningless sex."

Reader arched an eyebrow, slightly surprised by her response.

“So, you want to court me?”

Damian held her gaze, finally finding some balance in his stance.

“I want to get to know you. But not on such trivial terms as you propose.”

She stared at him for a long moment before cracking a slight smile.

“Well, Damian Wayne. You surprised me. I didn’t think you would say that.”

The conversation took a more relaxed turn after that, with both of them exploring the meaning behind their actions and the circumstances that had led them here. Dick, meanwhile, watched from afar, proud that he had created the opportunity they both so desperately needed.

[gotta-winwin]

hii! love the 24 hrs with seventeen event and i was wondering if i could request 3:15 a.m. with wonwoo? maybe something where he's up gaming but reader wakes up hungry and wants him to make some ramen? thank you! love your writing 💗

omg tiya hi! i love your writing too (•̪ o •̪) your christmas series with svt was TOO CUTE ! AND a request for wonwoo, the loml - straight to my heart.

3:15

🌷part of the 24hrs with seventeen series ! request a specific time + activity/scenario to experience it with seventeen yourself !

requests are now closed for this event! thank you to everyone who requested.

You’re kept awake by the glaring light of Wonwoo’s computer and the sound of his keyboard. No matter how many times he’s adjusted his screen’s brightness, it’s still not enough to hide his tendency to game late into the night. His roommate is sound asleep in his room, and you feel suddenly jealous - Mingyu’s obviously getting sleep - while you and your boyfriend are not. 

The only thing saving Wonwoo from your crankiness and lack of sleep is the fact that he looks back at you every time he’s waiting for the next round to load, his eyes full of adoration and mild amusement as you grump. “You love watching me play.” He’d remind you constantly, never forgetting how you had once complimented his skills and how fast his fingers could move - which eventually led to him showing you just how fast - but never mind. 

Wonwoo, who finds it adorable, how you’re restless even when tired, how you pad around his room like you own it - and you basically do. You own the owner of the room, which makes this room yours as much as it is his. It’s evident you’ve colonized his place by the sheer amount of trinkets that are yours, your own drawer, your own section of his shelf for your romance books. He’ll never admit to it, but he’s read through almost everything you bring over, cringing at some - but secretly enjoying most. 

Wonwoo, who knows you’re bored out of your mind but trying to support his interests nevertheless. He’s a perceptive man - he sees your eyerolls whenever he tries schooling you on computer terms you’re unaware of, or how your shoulders shake from a silent sigh whenever he’s yelling out his gaming terms, passionate and on call with his friends. He loves you for just trying because he knows what his interests are aren’t for everyone. 

Wonwoo, who can only smile at you amusedly when you nudge his leg from your side of bed, sprawled out so you can reach him at his gaming chair. His lips thin into his infamous smile when you quietly ask him for ramen, stating that waiting for him to finish has gotten you hungry once again. 

Wonwoo, who wouldn’t trade your nightly routine for anything else in the world. As much as he loves gaming, he loves having a presence next to him more - liking how you’re only ever a step away whenever he needs a break from the virtual world. You make him love reality - it’s that simple. 

Wonwoo, who blows on the steaming ramen before he serves it to you, knowing the countless times you’ve forgotten and had burned your tongue. A bout of satisfaction and pride washes over him when you let out a hum of enjoyment, mumbling through bites of ramen just how much you love his cooking - even if it is just a packet of instant noodles. The satisfaction and pride far outweighs that in which he feels after a win. 

Wonwoo, who abandons his computer in favour of his bed, wrapping his arms around you as he waits for you to drift off. He would never tell you, but he’s never fallen asleep before you - relishing the few pockets of time left before he must relinquish his sight, taking off his glasses and turning you into a blurred figure beside him. He insists your beautiful even as a blurred figure, but Wonwoo likes having your peaceful face be the last thing he sees before sleep comes for him too. 

[deatheaterv]

lol imagine Snape doesn’t die after nagini attacks him and he wakes up in the hospital and sees you, asks why you are there and you tell him “you dunderhead, I’m in love with you.”

DUNDERHEAD

pairing : severus snape x fem!reader

genre : fluff

summary : as in the request

severus snape blinked slowly, his mind clouded, the effects of nagini’s venom still lingering in his body. the world felt heavy, and everything seemed muffled. the gentle hum of the hospital wing, the soft rustle of papers, and the steady ticking of the clock on the wall. but then he saw you.

you were sitting beside him, looking as if you’d been there for hours, though you made no move to leave. your hair, a bit wild as always, framed your face, and there was a softness in your gaze that he rarely saw from anyone, let alone someone as powerful and independent as you.

he tried to sit up, but his body protested, and he winced slightly. you noticed immediately, your hand gently resting on his arm to keep him down. “easy there, severus,” you said with a soft smile, though there was a teasing edge to your voice. "you’ve had a bit of a rough time."

snape’s brow furrowed in confusion. his voice was raspy when he spoke. “why are you here?” his usual biting tone was replaced with something quieter, almost vulnerable. “you should be somewhere else.”

you raised an eyebrow, your lips curling into a playful grin. “somewhere else? you mean somewhere where i can’t tell you just how much of an idiot you are?” you teased gently. "not happening, professor."

severus blinked, surprised by your lighthearted tone. “don’t call me that,” he muttered, though there was no real heat behind the words. he didn’t know how to respond to you. how to respond to the fact that you weren’t running from him, but sitting there, staying. not out of duty, but because you wanted to.

you leaned forward, brushing some of your hair behind your ear, your gaze never leaving him. “i’m here because,” you paused, your smile softening, “i care about you, severus.”

he stared at you for a long moment, his heart pounding in his chest as he processed your words. you didn’t ask for anything in return. you didn’t need him to say anything. you simply stayed. and that was enough.

“you’re a dunderhead,” you added with a sigh, clearly exasperated, though there was a warmth in your eyes that made his chest tighten. "how could you think i wouldn’t be here?"

snape’s lips twitched into something like a smile, though he quickly suppressed it. “i didn’t ask for you to stay,” he muttered, but there was no bite to it now. instead, there was a quiet longing he didn’t understand.

you rolled your eyes playfully, your hand brushing his as you adjusted your position. “you don’t need to ask. i’m not leaving you to brood in here alone.” you paused, then added softly, “you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

he wasn’t sure what to say, how to respond to you. he had spent so many years building walls, keeping everyone at a distance. but here you were, breaking them down one quiet moment at a time. and for once, he didn’t want to fight it.

“i don’t deserve you,” he murmured, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

you shook your head, smiling as if the idea was absurd. “that’s your biggest mistake, severus,” you said gently. “you do.”

he watched you for a long moment, the room feeling quieter, softer. maybe there was still too much between you two, too much unspoken. but for now, just this. just you.. was enough.

“well,” you said after a moment, breaking the silence with a smile, “since you’re awake, maybe we can stop calling you an idiot and actually talk about something fun.”

snape raised an eyebrow. “fun?”

“you know,” you teased, “like how i’m still planning to beat you at chess next time.”

a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “we’ll see about that,” he said, the flicker of amusement in his voice betraying the walls he’d so carefully built around himself.

and for the first time in what felt like forever, severus snape allowed himself to simply enjoy the quiet warmth of your presence.

[nanamineedstherapy]

Third Wheeling Your Own Marriage

F!Non-Sorceres Reader X Gojo Satoru X Nanami Kento

Summary: You should be overjoyed that Gojo Satoru & Nanami Kento are your husbands. But you feel your skin crawl as you become the third wheel in your own marriage.

Trigger Warnings: Verbal abuse, grief, and loss, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Redemption Arc, Mild Violence, Emotional Hurt, Disassociation, Depression.

A/N: Before you start reading—Daddy Toji is here!!! Rejoice!!! Welcome to Lobotomy Kaisen: Existential Crisis Edition™! 🎭 This chapter has everything: unhinged family banter, unexpected sweetness, and emotional trauma disguised as plot development. Let’s get into it before Megumi sends the SWAT team after us! Also, I know I said this ending was supposed to be only 3 parts, but it spiraled into a huge monster, so it will be 3 more parts, but it's already written, so hopefully the updates will be consistent every 2 or 3 days. :)

Previous Chapter 6 (alt ending 1.2) - Veiled Realities (Tumblr/Ao3)

Chapter 7 (alt ending 1.3) - Sapphire Echoes

Gumi: Why did you invite them to your place?!

Gumi: I’m coming over, and if I find them there, I’ll kill them!

// Playlist

The sunlight was golden, warm, and gentle, streaming through the large windows of a house you didn’t recognize but somehow felt like home. The faint scent of jasmine lingered in the air, mingling with the soft hum of laughter as you walked outside the house.

“Alright, gremlins,” Gojo announced, spinning on his heel. “Today, Daddy is going to teach you how to fight. It’s all about flair and finesse.”

Nanami, standing a few feet away with his arms crossed, let out a long, suffering sigh. “You’re not their only father, and they don’t need flair. They need discipline and control.”

Gojo turned, gasping like Nanami had just insulted his very existence. “Discipline? Control? What are we, accountants?”

“I wasn’t an accountant; I was an investment broker. There’s a difference; I wouldn’t expect your non-college graduate ass to understand,” Nanami deadpanned, adjusting his glasses.

“Exactly my point!” Gojo shot back, pointing a finger at him. “That’s why they need me. To balance out your boring lectures.”

“Balance?” Nanami arched an eyebrow. “You’ve never balanced anything in your life, including your own emotions.”

Their nine-year-old daughter, golden-haired and mischievous, stood between them, bouncing on her toes with excitement. “Daddy, can I use Ratio to mess with people? Like... cut the hair of the boy I like?”

Gojo’s grin widened, his sunglasses slipping down his nose. “Now that’s my girl. Even I didn’t think of that!”

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose. “No. You cannot use cursed techniques for petty pranks. It will get you suspended or arrested.”

“But what if it’s a really good prank?” She countered, her hazel eyes sparkling with mischief.

Gojo crouched down beside her, whispering loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Don’t listen to him. Petty pranks are the best kind.”

“Absolutely not,” Nanami snapped, his tone sharper now. “You’re already too much like him.”

The girl beamed, taking it as a compliment. “Thanks, Dada!”

You, standing off to the side, covered your mouth to stifle a laugh. “You have given birth to female Gojo, Ken. She’s your little chaos gremlin. Just accept it.”

“She’s your chaos gremlin too,” he muttered, shooting you a look that said he blamed you for this. Gojo was very smug about the fact, not even attempting to hide it.

Meanwhile, their son stood off to the side, arms crossed and a perpetual frown etched onto his face. His white hair fell into his blue eyes, which were narrowed in quiet judgment.

“This is stupid,” he muttered, his voice carrying all the weight of some adult who thought he knew better than everyone else.

Nanami turned to him, his expression softening slightly. “What’s ridiculous?”

“All of it,” the boy replied, gesturing vaguely at his sister and Gojo, who were now snickering about the ethical implications of using ratio to cheat at board games. “They’re wasting time.”

Gojo overheard and gasped. “Wasting time? I’m teaching valuable life skills here!”

The boy didn’t even blink. “You’re teaching her how to be annoying.”

“Exactly!” Gojo said, throwing his arms wide. “And what’s more important than that?”

“Literally everything,” the boy replied flatly, his tone so deadpan that even Nanami’s lips twitched in amusement.

“Alright, enough talk,” Gojo declared, clapping his hands together. “Let’s spar. Chaos Gremlin versus Mr. Rainy Day.”

Their daughter lit up, bouncing on her toes. “Yes! I’m gonna crush you!”

The boy sighed, stepping into position. “You’re going to lose.”

“Over my dead body,” she shot back, her energy already crackling around her.

Nanami and Gojo stood on opposite sides of the field, both offering advice at the same time.

“Focus on control!” Nanami called out.

“Forget control! Style is everything!” Gojo yelled.

You stood between them, arms crossed. “How about we let them figure it out without shouting conflicting advice?”

Both men glared at each other but stayed quiet—for about five seconds.

The sparring began, their cursed techniques clashing in a brilliant display. The boy moved with focus, his infinity stretching around him. His sister, on the other hand, darted around unpredictably, her movements wild but effective, her ratio blades slicing through the air like a scalpel.

“Don’t just stand there, Emo Kid!” Gojo hollered. “Go for the win!”

“Precision,” Nanami muttered under his breath, his eyes locked on his son. “Wait for her to make a mistake.”

“She doesn’t make mistakes,” Gojo countered. “She’s perfect.”

“You’re impossible,” Nanami replied, his voice flat.

//

When the sparring ended, both kids were panting but grinning, their energy buzzing in the air around them.

“You did great,” you said, taking both their hands. “Both of you.”

“Better than great,” Gojo added, ruffling his son’s hair. “You’re unstoppable.”

Nanami knelt beside his daughter, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’ve improved. But don’t get cocky.”

“Too late,” she replied, grinning up at him.

Letting go of your hands, the children ran ahead, their laughter blending with the rustling leaves as they played with their blobfish plushies.

The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over the scene as it settled into something softer, something whole.

You watched them with awe, your heart full to bursting. “They are beautiful.”

Gojo winked at you. “Of course they are. Look at their parents.”

Nanami glanced at you, his hazel eyes warm. “You’ve done well.”

The sun was now setting, casting the world in hues of orange and pink.

Gojo slid an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “See? Told you we’d make a great team.”

Nanami stood on your other side, his presence grounding. “You should sit,” he said softly, gesturing to a bench beneath a blooming cherry blossom tree.

You sat, watching the children play as the two men sat beside you, their presence comforting and familiar.

The boy turned, his bright blue eyes locking onto yours. “Mama, are you happy?” he asked, his voice carrying an innocence that made your chest tighten.

Tears pricked your eyes as you nodded. “Yes, sweetheart. I’m very happy.”

The world shifted abruptly. The warmth of the sun faded, replaced by the cold gray light of dawn filtering through your bedroom curtains.

You opened your eyes slowly, the weight of the dream pressing against your chest like a heavy stone.

Your cheeks were damp, but as you raised a trembling hand to touch them, you realized your eyes were dry. No tears fell. You were too numb for that now.

The laughter, the warmth, the love—it had all been a cruel illusion. The reality of your empty arms and silent home was suffocating.

Sukuna’s voice broke the silence from the doorway. “Another bad night?”

You didn’t answer, your gaze fixed on the sea outside the window. The waves rolled endlessly, a reflection of the ache in your chest.

“They’re still yours,” his words a faint echo of something he’d said before.

But they weren’t.

And they never would be.

---

// Playlist

Few years ago

The streets glistened with rain, neon signs shimmering in puddles as the faint hum of late-night activity drifted through the cool air. You walked at an easy pace, your heels clicking softly against the pavement. The buzz of alcohol warmed your veins. Tonight, the world seemed softer, its edges blurred, though your mind remained sharp, processing everything around you with clarity.

Gojo Satoru leaned lazily against the post, his white hair catching the glow like freshly fallen snow. Beside him, Nanami Kento stood with his frown deepened by the chill in the air.

“She’s late,” Gojo said in Japanese, glancing at his phone. His voice carried a teasing lilt, though his gaze lingered on the street, betraying his anticipation.

“She doesn’t strike me as someone who cancels plans without notice,” Nanami replied evenly, though his hands tightened slightly in his coat pockets.

Gojo smirked. “Oh? Nanamin’s been paying attention.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Before their banter could escalate, you turned the corner, your long coat swaying with your stride. Your hair, tousled by the breeze, framed a face softened by warmth and openness, an unusual sight for someone as composed as you.

Gojo’s eyes lit up as he nudged Nanami, practically bouncing on his feet. “Nanamin! It’s her! Pretty hoodie lady!” He exclaimed in English, pointing at you like a kid spotting their favorite toy in a store.

Nanami groaned audibly, pressing his palm to his face. “Could you not yell across the street like a lunatic?”

But Gojo wasn’t listening. He was already halfway to you, his enthusiasm cutting through the chill like a warm gust of wind.

“Hey! Pretty hoodie lady!” Gojo’s voice rang out.

“Gojo,” Nanami called after him as he followed. “Don’t run off—”

But you didn't hear and turned in the direction Nanami was coming from.

You suddenly collided with your nose smushing into something firm and expensive-smelling.

“Watch where you're going, you...”

“Careful there,” Nanami’s voice came, smooth and tinged with dry amusement.

Gojo skidded to a halt, his grin growing impossibly wider.

You took a step back, studying them with a raised brow. Recognition flickered as you met their gazes. “Oh, it’s you two.”

“You remember us!” Gojo exclaimed, his English broken but still managing to convey his excitement. However, it was better than the last time. Had he been practicing?! His voice carried a note of pride, as if he’d accomplished something monumental by being memorable.

“Oh, it’s mysterious hoodie lady,” Gojo added, adjusting his sunglasses.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Nanami said, his tone measured, though his eyes flicked over you briefly, assessing and ensuring you were unharmed.

“Gentlemen,” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Fancy bumping into me.” The alcohol humming through your veins lent a teasing edge to your voice. “But I’m not mad—unless you’re boring. Then we’ll have problems.”

Gojo tilted his head, squinting in confusion. “What she say?”

Nanami sighed, his patience thinning. “She’s challenging you not to be boring.”

“Ohhh!” Gojo’s grin widened, his excitement bubbling over. “I am never boring!”

Nanami questioned. “We didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You’re not disturbing me,” you replied, your voice warm but measured. “Though, I didn’t expect to see you two again.”

Gojo grinned, his English fumbling but earnest. “We... walking! Saw you!”

Nanami raised an eyebrow, muttering under his breath, “Walking, my ass.”

You chuckled softly, your eyes briefly catching Nanami’s. Without the hood obstructing your vision, you saw warmth and intensity, like the first rays of sunlight breaking through winter’s chill. His gaze wrapped around you, offering solace in a chaotic world, igniting a warmth within you that spread like a soft glow. In that fleeting moment, it felt as if he had touched your soul, awakening a longing for something deeper, something beautifully profound.

Your gaze shifted to Gojo, his eyes peeking over dark sunglasses—a brilliant blue that seemed to hold entire galaxies within them. Time stood still, the world around you fading into a soft blur. You had never seen such eyes—vivid and alive, sparkling with mischief and depth, as if they could read the very essence of your soul. They were the kind of eyes poets raved about, capable of igniting a fire in your heart and weaving a spell

You quickly looked away from the radioactive orbs in the name of eyes he had; it seemed the alcohol was getting to you.

Nanami cleared his throat. “Can we walk you home? It’s late.” His tone even but laced with genuine concern

You nodded your head, your smile softening.

Unbeknownst to you, the men were nearly high-fiving behind you—at least they would have if Nanami weren’t busy trying to engrave your face into his memory. It had taken Gojo standing atop the tallest building to find you. They were supposed to leave the night they met you at the convention, but Yaga had yelled at them to come back every hour since. Yet, they still didn’t know your full name or anything else about you.

“He’s like a Samoyed in human form,” you mused aloud, tilting your head as you studied Gojo.

Gojo almost froze, blinking rapidly. “Samo... what?”

“A Samoyed,” you repeated, grinning. “You know, the big fluffy white dogs that are always happy and smiling?”

Gojo’s jaw dropped. “You think I’m fluffy?”

“Fluffy and cheerful,” you clarified.

Nanami snorted softly, but you turned to him before he could speak. “And you,” you said, gesturing toward him, “you’re... a grumpy Akita Inu. Specifically Hachikō.”

Gojo immediately burst into laughter, clutching his stomach. “Grumpy Akita! Nanamin, that’s so you!”

Nanami’s lips pressed into a thin line, his brows furrowing as he shot Gojo a sharp look. “Stop laughing.”

“But she’s right!” Gojo wheezed, wiping at his eyes behind his sunglasses. “You’re dependable and serious, waiting around like some tragic hero.” He spoke half the words in Japanese.

Nanami ignored him, his attention shifting to you instead, expression unreadable. “Hachikō, the dog known for its loyalty?”

You nodded, your tone softening. “Yeah. Always dependable, always waiting, even when people don’t deserve it. That being said, I wouldn’t wish Hachikō’s fate on you.”

For a moment, his expression flickered—something thoughtful, maybe even vulnerable, passing through his eyes before he nodded. “I see.”

Gojo, however, was still basking in the revelation. “Fluffy and adorable. That’s me!” he declared.

“Adorable is debatable,” Nanami muttered under his breath, earning another laugh from you.

Before Gojo could respond, you added, “Speaking of dogs, have you heard of Etah ?”

Both men’s curiosity piqued.

“Etah was the first dog to reach the South Pole,” you began. “She led Roald Amundsen’s expedition in 1911, surviving the harshest conditions imaginable. A Samoyed, of course—happy, dependable, and heroic. Out of 52 dogs on the expedition, only 12 survived tragically.”

Nanami was live translating for you and Gojo.

Gojo’s grin faltered, replaced by an expression of awe. “Wait, a dog did that? Like, first to the South Pole?”

You nodded, your gaze steady on him. “Exactly. She led the way, braved the cold, and ensured the expedition’s success. And after all that, she lived out her life as a cherished companion to royalty.”

Nanami’s brows rose slightly, his stoicism softening as he murmured, “A testament to loyalty and resilience.”

“Exactly,” you agreed, your excitement bubbling beneath the surface. “She’s a symbol of courage and adaptability. Like Hachikō, but with a touch of adventure.”

Gojo leaned closer, his sunglasses slipping down his nose. “So, you’re saying I’m like Etah? A heroic, adventurous dog with a happy ending?”

You smirked, tilting your head. “Sure, if you can brave the cold and not get distracted by every snowflake.”

Nanami’s lips twitched into the faintest smile. “I think you’d get lost in the snow, Gojo.”

“Hey!” Gojo shot back, his grin unwavering. “That’s what I’d have you for, Nanamin. My loyal Akita, leading the way.”

Nanami sighed heavily, but the faint flush creeping up his neck didn’t escape your notice.

“Of course you’d need him,” you teased, your tone light but cutting. “Not every hero dog gets to live out their life with royalty.”

Gojo’s grin turned thoughtful, a rare flicker of sincerity breaking through his usual bravado as he spoke in half English, half Japanese. “Well, if you’re the royalty, I’m in.”

Nanami muttered something under his breath, his gaze flickering to you for a moment longer than necessary. For all the absurdity of Gojo’s antics, he wasn’t entirely immune to the pull of your presence.

“So, you both are sorcerers?” You asked, walking ahead. You were curious about their techniques. Otherwise, you would have ignored them as Megumi had advised.

Both men froze for a moment. Then Nanami cleared his throat. “Ah, yes. It seems your friend told you about us.”

“All good things, I hope!” Gojo chimed in.

You glanced at him, amused. “Something like that. If it’s okay, could you explain your techniques to me?” You asked, still looking ahead, your expression serene.

Gojo leaned toward Nanami. “What’s she saying now?”

“She wants us to explain our techniques,” Nanami replied in Japanese, his voice deadpan.

Gojo blinked, clearly delighted. “Oh! You want to know my power?”

“Yes,” you said, your tone calm but your eyes sharp.

Both men noted your reluctance to discuss the man with the sea urchin hair, but Nanami was feeling unusually chatty, so he began explaining while Gojo confused you the entire time and interrupted every few seconds with exaggerated gestures and broken English, insisting that his “Infinity is best!”

As the conversation continued, you noticed how Gojo’s childlike enthusiasm and Nanami’s quiet attentiveness complemented each other. There was something grounding about their presence, something that made the world feel a little less chaotic.

“I’m starting to see why you two balance each other out,” you said, your lips twitching with amusement.

Nanami’s gaze flicked to you, a faint softness in his eyes. “Balance isn’t the word I’d use.”

Gojo, oblivious to the subtleties, beamed. “She thinks we team!”

Both men were observing your wit.

“She’s interesting,” Nanami said lowly to Gojo in Japanese, his tone understated but firm.

Gojo grinned, his gaze lingering on the back of your head a few steps ahead. “Interesting doesn’t even cover it.”

//

They hadn't planned for this. The warm glow of overhead lights reflected off the rain-slick streets outside, adding a cozy intimacy to the atmosphere. You, Nanami, and Gojo were tucked into a booth near the window, the warmth seeping into your hands as you warmed them on the small portable heater near the table.

Nanami sat across from you while Gojo had wedged himself into the seat beside you, his energy a contrast to the café ’s tranquil ambiance.

“You seem... relaxed tonight,” Nanami observed, his voice calm but tinged with curiosity. His gaze flicked briefly to your flushed cheeks before settling back on your eyes.

“I’m in a good mood,” you replied, the mischief in your tone evident as you leaned back against the booth. “A productive day, good company, and now, a surprise reunion.”

Gojo perked up, resting his chin on his hand as he leaned in closer. “You like surprises?”

“Depends on the surprise,” you replied, a small smirk tugging at your lips as you met his gaze. “This one isn’t bad.”

Nanami cleared his throat, steering the conversation. “You mentioned good company earlier. Were you out with friends?”

“My CHRO,” you said casually, taking a sip of your drink.

Gojo frowned, his brows knitting together. “CH... R... O?”

Nanami sighed, his tone weary but patient. “Chief Human Resources Officer.”

“Oh!” Gojo’s face lit up like he’d just solved a riddle. “Office talk!”

You chuckled softly, your smile enigmatic. “Something like that. But enough about me. What about you two? What brings you out tonight?”

Gojo tilted his head toward Nanami, grinning. “Fate!”

Nanami groaned under his breath. “Don’t mind him. We were... exploring the city.”

Your raised eyebrow and faint smile told them you weren’t convinced, but you let it slide.

The server approached, her eyes lingering on Nanami and Gojo a moment too long as asking them, ignoring you. “What can I get you all tonight?”

You grinned, too tipsy to notice the slight snub. “Surprise me.”

Gojo continued looking at your smile subtly—which wasn’t very subtle to Nanami—his voice rude. “Same for me.” The server’s pettyness had not escaped his six eyes.

Nanami ordered black coffee, his tone clipped as usual. He wasn’t trying to be rude; people often misinterpreted his demeanor as arrogance or indifference. Well, the indifference part was true.

You stared at him in mock disbelief. “Black coffee? At this hour? You’re the most boring person I’ve ever met.” You didn’t really mind; hell, you chugged black coffee by the gallon on work nights; you just wanted to see how he’d react to teasing.

Nanami arched an eyebrow, his lips curving ever so slightly. “And yet, here you are.”

Damn, he was smooth.

Your laugh rang out, light and melodic, catching Gojo’s attention. His grin softened as he glanced at Nanami, something unspoken passing between them.

//

After some time, the three of you stood near the counter. The waitress smiled and handed over the bill with a smile directed solely at Nanami and Gojo. You, however, were laser-focused on the receipt, your eyes narrowing as you reached into your coat pocket.

“I’ve got this,” you said firmly, already pulling out your wallet. It’s not like you didn’t let people pay for you. Paying for you was a privilege they hadn’t earned yet. Men had a way of starting to expect things after spending even a little money, and you had learned that the hard way.

“Absolutely not,” Nanami countered, already pulling out his own wallet. His tone was calm, but the sharpness in his eyes screamed ‘ chivalry or death .’

“Wait, wait, wait!” Gojo interjected, his sunglasses slipping as he reached into his coat. “I got this! Sugar mommy powers activated!”

You blinked at him, momentarily thrown. “Gojo, you can’t be a sugar mommy. You’re a sugar baby at best.”

Gojo gasped, clutching his chest as if you’d mortally wounded him. “I’m offended! I’m both!”

Before you could respond, Nanami stepped between you two, his wallet already open. “Enough. This isn’t up for debate. I’ll handle it.”

You weren’t having it. “You think I can’t pay?” You challenged, stepping closer to Nanami like you were about to square up.

Nanami blinked, caught off guard. “This isn’t about capability. It’s about manners.”

“Oh, hell no , Nanami,” you snapped, whipping out your American Express Centurion Card like a weapon. The black card gleamed under the café lights as you waved it in his face. “You think I can’t pay? Watch me!”

Gojo, delighted, leaned toward Nanami and whispered in Japanese, “She’s challenging your honor, man.”

Nanami shot him a glare before turning back to you. “It’s courtesy.”

A mischievous grin tugged at your lips. “Then courteously let me pay.”

Gojo, now leaning dramatically over the counter, held up his own card—a flashy platinum piece that looked like it had seen better days. “Mine’s shinier!”

“Shut up, Gojo!” Both you and Nanami barked simultaneously.

Nanami placed his card on the counter, only for you to slap it away with a quick flick of your wrist. “Denied!”

Gojo cackled, tossing his card onto the counter like it was a poker chip. “Bet you can’t top this!”

You scoffed, “Oh, you wanna play? I brought backups.” Pulling your wallet open wider, revealing the JP Morgan Reserve Card, the Dubai First Royale MasterCard, and the Coutts World Silk Card nestled inside. 

Gojo’s jaw dropped, his English breaking. “You... you have... many shinies !”

Nanami’s eye twitched as he reached for his card again, but you weren’t having it. “Stay in your lane, Mr. Black Coffee!”

“Don’t push me,” Nanami warned.

“I’ll will,” you shot back, your grin unhinged.

Finally, Gojo stepped back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, you win,” he said, nodding toward your Centurion Card. “Black card... scary.”

You smirked, triumphant. “Damn right.”

Nanami glared at Gojo and asked him in Japanese, “Don’t you have that card too?”

Gojo rubbed the back of his head and answered, “I do, but I forgot it in Japan.”

Nanami, however, was far from relenting. “This isn’t over,” he muttered, placing his Rakuten Bank Super Premium Card on top of yours with the quiet determination of a man who had never lost a battle of principles.

“Nanami,” you said, leaning closer, your tone deceptively sweet, eyelashes fluttering up at him, like you were asking for a puppy and not his honour, “are you really going to do this?”

“Yes,” he deadpaned.

“Fine.” You whispered in his ear, slightly closer, with your villainous energy directed at the wrong man. “But I will win.”

If Nanami was a weaker man, his resolve would have cracked.

Gojo, watching the scene unfold with stars in his eyes, clapped his hands together and yelled in Japanese. “This is the best date ever.”

Nanami was too busy not to get a hard on in public to glare at Gojo.

The poor cashier, overwhelmed, finally chose your card just to end the madness. You released Nanami with a victorious grin; your card already swiped.

“I told you,” you said smugly, slipping your wallet back into your coat pocket. Then took out your pen to sign.

Nanami sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re impossible.”

You laughed. “Don’t worry, Nanami. Next time, you can fight me for it. Winner pays.”

Gojo whispered loudly in Japanese. “She’s rich, Nanamin! Like, sugar mommy rich!” All his dreams of finding a fractos mother were coming true even though he was already rich.

Nanami groaned, his chivalry bruised but intact, ears red.

Gojo ignored him, turning to you with a wide grin. “You... pay for my snacks forever?”

You tilted your head, amused. “Why? Can’t you afford them?”

Nanami, sensing an opportunity, leaned toward Gojo and said in Japanese, “She asked if you’d like to pay her back by taking her trash out.”

Gojo’s grin faltered. “Trash?” he echoed, confused.

You chuckled, sensing the exchange but choosing not to pry. “Don’t worry, Gojo. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to.”

Gojo’s grin returned in full force. “I love you!”

Nanami was grateful Gojo didn’t know English for ‘I love you’ yet, or you’d get a restraining order.

As the transaction completed, the two men subtly—or not so subtly—took stock of your outfit to try and assess how rich you were in order to conclude what you did for a living.

“Shoes,” Nanami whispered to Gojo in Japanese.

“Designer,” Gojo answered after a glance.

“Coat?”

“Custom.” Gojo replied, then asked, “Watch?”

“Limited edition.”

Gojo’s eyes sparkled as you turned back. “You... very stylish!” he declared in his adorable English, giving you a thumbs-up.

You raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Thank you, Gojo. You’re very observant.”

Nanami sighed. “You’re enabling him.”

“I think it’s endearing,” you replied with a soft laugh, your gaze briefly meeting Nanami’s. “Besides, you two are fun. And rare.”

Gojo turned to Nanami, grinning. “She said we’re rare! Like Pokémon!”

Nanami muttered something under his breath, but his ears were bright red now.

As the three of you stepped back into the rain-kissed streets, Gojo bounded ahead, clearly pleased with the outcome of the evening, while Nanami lingered at your side, his mind still piecing together the puzzle of who you really were.

“You’re quite mysterious,” Nanami remarked finally, his voice low enough that Gojo couldn’t hear.

You smiled knowingly. “And you’re quite perceptive.”

Nanami���s lips twitched into the faintest smile as Gojo spun around, his arms outstretched. The conversation shifted as the three of you continued walking, your strides falling into an easy rhythm.

You briefly caught Nanami’s gaze before glancing up at the night sky. “It’s a nice night, isn’t it? You can even see a few stars despite the city lights.”

Nanami followed your gaze. “Surprising, given the light pollution.”

Gojo squinted at the sky, then at you. “They pretty like you.”

Nanami’s eyes widened.

You laughed; the sound light and melodic. “Not quite; you are the star.” You paused, thinking, then continued. “Like our sun—bright, strong, impossible to miss. You keep things alive, but you burn so intensely that it’s hard for people to get close enough to truly understand you.”

Gojo’s grin faltered, something unreadable flickering in his expression. “Sun... me?”

You nodded, turning to Nanami. “And you... you’re like a lighthouse. Constant, steady, always guiding. People only notice when they need you, but you’re always there, no matter what.”

Nanami stiffened, his stoicism betraying a hint of vulnerability. “You have a way with metaphors.”

You smiled, shrugging. “Maybe I’m drunk. Or maybe I’m just observant.”

Gojo perked up. “You ultraviolet rays.”

You looked at him, speechless.

Nanami smacked his head. “That’s rude.”

Gojo rubbed the back of his head and explained in Japanese, “What? It provides vitamin D synthesis, photosynthesis, and regulation of biological rhythms. She is smart and strong. Tell her in English.”

Nanami sighed and translated as you blushed, glancing at Gojo, who looked particularly proud of himself.

But Nanami wouldn’t back down easily. “I think you are like the North Star; you provide direction and clarity to those around you. Constant in the night sky, you are reliable. Most people might not notice you for your worth, but your influence is profound, much like how your contributions, though sometimes invisible, are vital and impactful.”

You hid your face in your collar, turning away as you walked, your blush deepening.

“So,” you asked, breaking the awkward silence after a beat, “what’s your favorite food?”

“He likes sandwiches, and I love sweets!” Gojo exclaimed immediately, his enthusiasm palpable.

You grinned. “Me too. In reasonable quantities.”

Nanami exhaled faintly. "Oh, thank God.”

You ignored his quip, focusing back on Gojo. “Do you like dark chocolate?”

Gojo nodded fervently. “Yes! With... strawberries!” Nanami hummed in agreement as well.

“Good taste,” you said approvingly. “But since you like sweets, I think you’d enjoy something from my country. It’s warm, soft, and melts in your mouth. Perfect for a night like this.”

Gojo’s eyes lit up. “I want! You make?”

Nanami tensed at Gojo’s words. “Please forgive him; he’s too enthusiastic.”

You tilted your head, studying Gojo while waving away Nanami's concerns with your hand. “Maybe. But first, lower your Infinity.” Then turned to Nanami and added, “And your ratio thing.”

Nanami’s brows shot up. “That’s a strange request.”

Gojo hesitated, glancing between you and Nanami. “Why?”

You shrugged, a teasing glint in your eyes. “Because I asked nicely.”

Gojo huffed, muttering something in Japanese that sounded suspiciously like “fine,” before lowering his Infinity.

Without warning, you lunged, fingers digging into his sides as you tickled him mercilessly. Halfway through, you felt his hard muscles—he looked built, like a well-defined wall.

“W-what?!” Gojo shrieked, laughter bubbling uncontrollably as he tried to fend you off. “Stop! Evil lady!”

You stepped back, smirking. “I wasn’t expecting you to agree so easily. You trusted me so adorably—I couldn’t resist. Consider this a free lession.” You laughed, then your tone softened. “But really, I wanted to touch your hand. I wanted to know how your skin feels.”

Gojo blinked, his laughter fading as his cheeks flush. Nanami was trying to hide his face.

You extended your hand to both men. “Come on. If you’re interested, I’ll make you that sweet. It’s worth the walk.”

Nanami sighed. “Are you sure? We don’t want to impose; it’s pretty late.”

You smiled and nodded.

Both men immediately offered their hands to you.

These two would go to war for you—just for your smile, no hesitation.

//

By the time you reached your place, the warmth of the alcohol had faded, leaving you pleasantly sleepy.

“You two are coming in,” you declared, unlocking the door.

Nanami frowned. “That’s not necessary—”

“It’s cold,” you interrupted, pushing the door open. “And I’m making sweets. Come in or stay out, your choice.”

Gojo practically dragged Nanami inside, kicking off his shoes with a grin.

The warmth of your penthouse greeted you as you led them inside, shedding your coat. The men had noticed the extreme security while entering your building, and your place looked expensive, leading them to deduce you were more than averagely wealthy.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” you said, heading toward the kitchen.

Gojo immediately flopped onto your couch, poking at the cushions, while Nanami stood awkwardly near the door, his posture still composed.

“Do you always invite strangers into your home?” Nanami asked, his tone laced with mild disapproval.

“Only the ones who lower their Infinity and that cutting thing for me,” you replied with a grin.

Nanami sighed but his lips twitched, hinting at a smile. “It’s called ratio blades.”

You nodded, washed your hands and began preparing the syrup and dough.

As you worked, Gojo wandered around your living room, poking at your figurines—most of them from your own company’s games—and photos. “Cats! So many cats!”

“I like cats,” you said simply, rolling the dough into perfect spheres.

Nanami joined Gojo, his gaze landing on a framed self-portrait you had taken a long time ago. “Did you take all these?”

You nodded. “Photography’s my thing. Cats are my favorite subjects.”

Their attention shifted to a large portrait of you and Megumi from an event. He stood stiffly looking at you while you smiled at the camera, his parents in the background. Gojo scowled at Toji’s face.

The smell of caramelized sugar filled the air as you carried a tray of warm, syrup-soaked sweets to the table, and Gojo immediately forgot about Toji.

"Careful, it’s hot,” you warned, placing the tray on the coffee table. The men took a seat on the couch opposite you.

Gojo’s eyes sparkled as he picked one up, blowing on it before taking his first bite. A soft hum of delight escaped him. “This is heaven. Marry me!” He exclaimed in Japanese.

Still Nanami choked, shooting Gojo a glare. He took his time with his dessert, his expression softening with each bite. “You weren’t exaggerating. This is excellent; he likes it too.”

You leaned back with one for yourself, watching them with a small smile as you chewed your own. “Glad you like it.”

The three of you sat in companionable silence, the warmth of the room and the dessert lulling you into a state of drowsy contentment.

Without much thought, you curled up on the couch across from them, yawning and closing your eyes, unintentionally dozing off with two strangers in your house.

“She’s like a cat,” Gojo murmured in Japanese, his voice softer than usual.

Nanami studied you. “A very drunk cat.”

“But she can hold her liquor.”

“Except for turning into a frat bro dying to fight people.” Nanami deadpaned, making Gojo chuckle.

They sat in silence for a while, the only sound being the soft hum of the heater as you completely dozed off.

Gojo broke the silence first, still speaking softly in Japanese. “Hey, Nanamin. Think she likes us?”

Nanami glanced at him. “Us?”

Gojo shrugged, his grin a little softer. “You know. Like... us us.”

Nanami sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t plan for this.”

“Neither did I,” Gojo admitted. “But... I don’t hate it.”

Nanami glanced at Gojo, then back at you. “Neither do I.”

“Let’s see where this goes,” Gojo said softly.

Nanami nodded, his usual frown easing.

Just then, your phone rang loudly, startling you awake. You apologized to the men, "Sorry, I dozed off. It’s been a long day.” They smiled, still shoving sweets into their mouths occasionally—well, mostly Gojo.

You fished your phone from your pocket, accidentally cutting the call. Rubbing your eyes, you opened it to find:

Gumi: I thought I told you to stay away from those two?!

Gumi: Why did you invite them to your place?!

Gumi: I’m coming over, and if I find them there, I’ll kill them!

Gumi: Why the fuck are you cutting my calls?!

Gumi: I swear I’m beheading them.

You immediately stood up, startled. “You need to go!”

The men looked at you, confused.

“I can’t explain! Just please go right now!” Panic surged through you, serious enough to pull you out of your drunken sleepy haze. They put the sweets down and got up to leave, but you yelled again, “Not from the front door!”

Nanami groaned as you practically pushed him and Gojo through the back door and slammed the door into their faces.

Just then they realized something.

They still didn't really know anything about you except that you were observant, made them sweets and would fight to pay for others.

//

The silence that followed after you slammed the back door was short-lived. You took a deep breath, your heart pounding, as you tried to regain your composure. The faint sound of the heater humming did little to ease the tension building in the room.

A knock on the front door shattered the calm. It wasn’t a polite knock—it was authoritative, demanding.

You sighed, muttering under your breath, “God help me...”

You barely had time to brace yourself before the door swung open with a force that sent it rebounding slightly on its hinges.

Megumi stood in the doorway, his tailored suit pristine, but his face was anything but composed. His piercing blue eyes scanned the room like a predator assessing its territory, his jaw clenched so tightly you swore you heard his teeth grinding.

His gaze landed on you first, narrowing as he took in the faint flush on your cheeks and the slightly disheveled state of your hair. “You’ve been drinking,” he said flatly, the accusation sharp.

His gaze swept the room like a hawk, narrowing when he spotted the faint remnants of the sweets you’d shared with Gojo and Nanami.

You crossed your arms, meeting his glare with a raised eyebrow. “Good evening to you too, Megumi.”

“Don’t start,” he snapped, stepping into your living room. The air seemed to chill slightly as he moved closer, his presence both imposing and familiar.

The faint scent of alcohol clearly irritated him further. “You smell like a distillery. And there are cursed energy signatures everywhere. They were here, weren’t they?”

Your stomach twisted as his words hung in the air. He wasn’t asking; he was stating a fact.

“I drank earlier, but not with them. And yes, they were here,” you admitted, leaning casually against the back of the couch. “And they left.”

Megumi’s eyes darkened, his frame tense as he stalked further into the room. His presence felt heavier than usual, the weight of his restrained fury palpable. “I told you to stay away from them,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

“You did,” you replied calmly, meeting his glare without flinching. “But I don’t recall signing a contract.”

His voice was quieter now but no less intense. “What were they doing here?”

“Eating sweets,” you replied simply as if his looming figure didn’t faze you.

Megumi’s jaw tightened. “You’re joking.”

“Not at all. They’re big fans of dessert,” you said with a faint smirk, your nonchalance clearly irritating him further.

“Do you have any idea who they are?” He demanded, his voice rising slightly.

“Two sorcerers who are surprisingly bad at hiding their curiosity,” you replied, your tone calm.

Megumi’s lips pressed into a thin line as his gaze swept the room. Without warning, he moved past you, scanning every corner with the precision of someone who missed nothing.

“Gumi,” you said, following him as he moved toward the kitchen. “They’re gone. I’m fine.”

He ignored you, his eyes scanning the area as if expecting to find Gojo or Nanami hiding behind the fridge.

When he turned back to you, his expression was a mix of frustration and something deeper—something protective. “You don’t understand what they’re capable of,” he said, his tone clipped. “You’re not a sorcerer. You can’t handle this.”

“I’m not helpless,” you countered, crossing your arms. “And I don’t need you babysitting me.”

His fists clenched at his sides, his shoulders taut with barely restrained anger. “You think this is about babysitting? You’re the only person I care about besides Mom,” he bit out, his voice cracking slightly. “Do you know how easy it would be for them to hurt you?”

“They’re not going to hurt me, Megumi,” you said, your voice softening.

He scoffed, his frustration spilling over. “You don’t know that. They’re sorcerers. They live in a world where people like you—people without cursed energy—are collateral damage.”

You stepped closer, your tone steady but firm. “And your father lived in a world where he killed innocent people, Megumi. Including that girl.”

The words hit like thunder, and for a moment, the room was silent. Megumi’s jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with a mix of pain and anger.

“That doesn’t mean that white-haired freak gets a free pass,” he said finally, his voice low.

“No, it doesn’t,” you agreed, your gaze unwavering. “But it also doesn’t mean you get to project your anger onto me.”

“They’re dangerous,” he hissed, taking another step forward. “Especially him.”

You tilted your head, your gaze steady. “Gojo? He seems harmless enough when he’s not shoving sweets into his mouth.”

Megumi’s fists clenched at his sides. “Harmless? He killed my father.”

You flinched at the reminder, guilt creeping into your chest.

Megumi’s hands flexed at his sides; he calmed down his breathing immediately, eyes softening. “You don’t get it,” he said, his voice rough. “I can’t lose you too.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” you said gently, placing a hand on his arm.

He stiffened at the contact, his gaze dropping to your hand before meeting your eyes. For a moment, his anger seemed to waver, replaced by something raw and vulnerable.

“I can’t protect you if you won’t listen to me,” he said, his tone quieter now but no less intense.

“You’ve always protected me, Gumi,” you said softly. “But I need you to trust me too.”

He let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re overbearing,” you replied with a small smile.

After another tense moment, Megumi’s posture relaxed slightly. He looked around the room one last time, his eyes lingering on the remnants of the desserts you’d shared with Gojo and Nanami.

“They’re idiots,” he muttered.

You chuckled. “Agreed.”

“I’m increasing security around your building,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest. “Fine. But only if I still get to pet your shikigamis.”

His lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile breaking through his frustration. “Deal.”

“Next time, call me first.”

“Noted.”

"Come, mom asked you to stay over for the weekend; let’s go.” He said, extending his arm with a faint twitch of a smile on his lips.

“Oh great. I haven’t seen her in a few weeks.” You followed him.

Before closing the door, Megumi looked directly at a particular window in your penthouse.

//

As you both left, the tension in the room finally eased.

From the shadows outside, Gojo and Nanami peeked around the corner, their expressions a mix of curiosity and disbelief.

“He’s scary,” Gojo whispered in Japanese.

“He knew we were here; he could have fought.” Nanami thought out loud.

Gojo then added sagely. “But also... she’s kind of hot?”

Nanami sighed.

“Do you think she’s single?” Gojo mused as Nanami dragged him away.

---

Many Years Ago

It was a warm afternoon, the kind where the sunlight filtered through the trees and painted the grass in dappled patterns. You sat on a park bench, your knees pulled to your chest as you tried to block out the world. The faint sound of children laughing reached your ears, but it felt distant, like it belonged to another reality.

“Hey.”

The voice was small, hesitant. You looked up to see a little boy with dark, spiky hair and eyes that seemed far too knowing for someone his age.

“You’re sitting here alone,” he said matter-of-factly, his head tilting slightly. “Why?”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. “I just... like the quiet.”

The boy frowned, his brows knitting together. “You’re sad.”

Before you could deny it, another voice interrupted. “Megumi, don’t bother strangers.”

You looked up to see a tall man approaching, his broad shoulders and confident stride impossible to miss. His piercing eyes softened slightly when they landed on you.

“Sorry about him,” the man said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “He’s too nosy for his own good.”

“It’s okay,” you said quietly.

The man studied you for a moment, his gaze lingering on the bruises peeking out from beneath your sleeves. His expression darkened, but his tone remained calm. “Where are your parents?”

“They’re around,” you said quietly, looking away.

The boy—Megumi—plopped down on the bench beside you, completely unfazed. “You don’t like them, do you?”

“Megumi,” the man said warningly, but you shook your head.

“It’s fine,” you murmured. “He’s right. I don’t. They wanted a boy; I came out a girl.”

The man’s fists tightened hard enough that you heard a faint crack, then he crouched down, his gaze level with yours. “Listen, kid,” he said, his voice low but firm. “You don’t have to stay in places that hurt you. You know that, right?”

Your throat tightened, and you nodded, tears stinging your eyes.

From that day on, Toji Fushiguro became a constant in your life. He didn’t say much, but he showed up when it mattered—bringing food, letting you crash on his couch when things got too rough at home, and always making sure you knew you had someone in your corner.

Megumi tagged along wherever you went and was always watching out for you in his quiet, observant way. His sharp wit and occasional bursts of kindness became a source of unexpected comfort.

You felt a sense of belonging, a family forged through shared struggles and unspoken bonds. But when you learned of Toji’s death, the loss hit you hard. It was a wound that ran deep, leaving a lasting impact on Megumi, who never truly recovered from it.

And when you cut contact with your family after a particularly horrible night at eighteen, Megumi’s mom helped you get on your feet, offering support until you could stand on your own.

For a while, it felt like you’d found a family.

---

// Playlist

Before you left to get married

This was supposed to be a moment of excitement—a new chapter—but instead, it was tainted by the look in Megumi’s eyes.

The terminal was too bright, too sterile. Every sound—footsteps, muffled announcements, the scrape of luggage wheels—echoed like a dull ache in your head. You stood by the departure gate, clutching your boarding pass, trying to steady your breathing. You had said goodbye to Megumi’s mom, but Megumi had disappeared since the day you told him you’d accepted the proposal to get married to your husbands. He didn’t pick up calls, didn’t respond to texts, and wasn’t at his office or at home. You wanted to say goodbye before you left, make amends so that he visited you for both your and his life's major occasions, or without reasons. You didn’t go out of your way to hurt him, but you hated yourself for it. He was right to have expected something of you when all those years ago his father had been nothing but kind towards you.

Then the storm came.

“Leaving just like that?”

The voice froze you in place, laced with a hurt you hadn’t anticipated. Turning slowly, you met Megumi’s gaze. His 20-something frame was taller, broader like his father, than the boy you’d met all those years ago—a sharp-edged man you’d always known he’d become. He looked disheveled, as if he had been drinking; his coat and tie were absent, his sleeves rolled up, and a few top buttons of his shirt were undone. But his eyes... his eyes still held the same piercing clarity, now clouded with betrayal.

You swallowed hard. “Megumi—”

“Don’t.” His voice cut through the distance between you, and you flinched. “Don’t start with excuses.”

“I’m not making excuses,” you said softly. “I’m doing what I have to do.”

"What do you have to do?” He laughed bitterly, running a hand through his spiky hair. “You’re leaving everything—everyone—for them. You’re marrying the man who killed my father. And the other one, who just stood by and let it all happen.”

The words hit harder than you’d expected, slicing through the fragile composure you’d been clinging to. “That’s not fair,” you tried, your voice trembling. “You know it’s not that simple.” You stepped towards him.

“Then what is it like?” he snapped, stepping away. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’ve chosen them over everything else. Over me. I thought you were better than this. I thought you cared about me.”

“You’re my best friend, Megumi. You always will be,” you insisted, your throat tightening. “I do care about you.”

“Do you? You are moving to a whole other country for them! Do you even know the language properly?” His voice cracked, and for a moment, he looked like the boy you’d met in the park all those years ago.

Tears welled in your eyes. “I’m not leaving you, Megumi.”

“Yes, you are.” His tone was flat now, his expression hardening like a wall slamming shut. “You’ve already made your choice, and it’s not me.”

“I’m not doing this to hurt you,” you said, your voice barely audible.

He scoffed, the hurt radiating off him in waves. “Doesn’t feel like it.” He sighed, looking away from you, and continued, “You’ve made your choice, and it’s not me. So, go ahead. Leave. But don’t expect me to be waiting when you come back. The next time I see you, it’ll be at your funeral.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Tears pricked your eyes, but you forced yourself to stay composed. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” you said quietly. “But I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me.”

He turned away sharply, his shoulders tense. “Don’t count on it.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and final. You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He strode away without a backward glance.

You stood there, the sounds of the terminal fading into a dull hum, your heart splintering under the weight of his parting words.

Nanami came to you and held you close while Gojo took care of the luggage.

---

Present day

The sea stretched endlessly before you, the waves lapping softly against the shore under the dim light of a waning moon. You sat on the edge of the wooden dock, legs dangling over the side, your hands resting limply in your lap. The salt in the air clung to your skin, but you barely noticed. Your eyes, glassy and unfocused, stared at the horizon, seeing nothing but the fractured pieces of a life that had slipped through your fingers.

The memory of Megumi’s words cut through the silence, a cruel echo of a bond you thought unbreakable.

"The next time I see you, it’ll be at your funeral."

You swallowed hard, the phantom weight of those words pressing against your chest. You’d believed so fiercely that he’d understand one day at the time and shared history would bridge the chasm your choices had created.

But you were wrong. He was right.

Your fingers tightened into fists as the guilt churned inside you. He had tried to warn you and begged you to stay away from the men who had dismantled your life piece by piece. And yet, you had brushed him off, convinced of your own strength and autonomy. You had taken his trust, his family’s kindness, and burned it in the fires of your hubris.

When your HQ in Japan was nearly razed and your life reduced to ashes, it wasn’t the men who betrayed you that haunted your thoughts—it was Megumi. You had been too ashamed to call him yourself, delegating the task to an employee with shaking hands. Yet, despite everything, he had come through.

His company’s security solutions had locked down your global offices in a matter of hours, protecting millions of lives. He didn’t ask for thanks, didn’t even reach out to you directly. It was as though he’d swept in like a ghost, solving the problem before vanishing back into the shadows of your shared past.

And still, you couldn’t bring yourself to reach out. What could you say? That he’d been right all along? That you missed him? That the absence of his sarcastic remarks and overprotective nature felt like a gaping hole in your already fractured soul?

You wondered if he thought about you at all. Did he have friends now? Or had he become like you—an isolated workaholic, buried under the weight of responsibility and regret?

Behind you, Sukuna sat silently on the dock, leaning back on his palms. He hadn’t said much since dragging you here, content to let the waves and the stars speak for themselves. He was steady, an immovable force in your crumbling world.

Sukuna sighed, his fingers drumming against the wood. “Still thinking about them?”

Them. Your twins. The children you’d lost.

“They are still yours,” he had told you, the words a faint echo now, lost in the cavern of your grief. They didn’t heal you, but they lingered, a reminder that some part of you had existed in them, however fleetingly.

The nightmares came every night. You didn’t tell Sukuna, but you didn’t need to. He was always there when you woke up drenched in sweat. His strong arms would pull you close, his voice steady and grounding.

“They’re gone,” he would say, the words harsh but real. “They’re not coming back. I’ll kill them if they do.”

You never asked who he meant. You didn’t care.

The therapy sessions were supposed to help. Sukuna drove you to every appointment, his presence looming in the background like a silent guardian. He never asked you how they went, never pressed for details. He just waited, scrolling through his phone or staring out the window until you returned.

But the numbness refused to leave. It clung to you like a second skin. You hadn’t spoken to Sukuna in months, not really. Your words had dwindled into hollow gestures—a nod, a faint smile, a muttered “thanks.”

He never complained. He just stayed.

Now, sitting on the dock with the sea stretching endlessly before you, Sukuna shifted closer. His knee brushed yours, a subtle reminder of his presence.

“You ever gonna talk again?” He asked, his tone light but probing.

Your lips parted, but no words came. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, to admit that you missed someone else’s presence just as much as his.

Megumi’s face flashed in your mind—his eyes, his cutting words, the way he always seemed to know what you needed before you did.

Sukuna’s gaze flicked to you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Who’s on your mind?”

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze for the first time in hours. “No one,” you lied, your voice hoarse from disuse.

He didn’t push, but the slight tightening of his jaw told you he didn’t believe you.

The stars above reflected faintly in the dark water, their light distant and cold. You wondered if Megumi ever looked at the stars and thought of you, or if you were as distant to him now as they were to the earth.

A/N: And that’s the emotional rollercoaster for today, folks! 🎢 How did you guys feel about Megumi and the airport scene. Drop your votes, share your feels, and get ready for the next chapter—it’s gonna be sending y'all to therapy.

Next Chapter 8 (alt ending 1.4) - Fractured Tides (Tumblr/Ao3)

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If I missed to tag anyone, please remind me.

[always-just-red]

008 with Xavier for Christmas prompts? 🥰

Whoaaaa this was actually my first ever solo request for Xavier? So thank you!!! Hope you've enjoyed the holidays, anon! 🥰

Xavier x Reader ⭐🎄☃️❄️

Prompt #008: lifting up a smaller frame to put on the finishing touch on the christmas tree: the tree topper ( a star, an angel, or something else! )

“Please be careful.”

You feel a gentle pair of hands at your waist as you balance on a stool, up on the tiptoes of one foot. You’re reaching, reaching… but you can’t quite get this stupid star on the tree, and Xavier thinks he’s helping, but he’s not. He’s an anchor, keeping you from achieving maximum reach. You just need to get a liiiiiitle further.

“It’s okay, Xavi, I got it. Sheesh, where’s this concern when I’m tackling Wanderers, huh?”

“I’m always concerned when you’re tackling Wanderers,” he frowns behind you— you can hear it. “Although, in a healthy, supportive way. Not a paranoid, lack-of-faith-in-you way.”

You chuckle to yourself. Stop reaching. “This feels like a lack of faith,” you say, patting his hands.

“Well, it’s healthy support.”

“Okay, okay. Can I get a healthy, supportive boost, please?”

He adjusts: moving closer to you, letting his hands circle lower. After a short countdown, he lifts you. There’s no huff of exertion. No tension. Show off. You still have to reach a little, but you manage to plonk the star on top of the tree.

“Happy?” Xavier asks, and there’s no strain in his voice, either.

“Happy. You may release me.”

With his own, quiet chuckle, Xavier sets you down beside the stool. You sigh and brush your hands together like you’ve just accomplished something difficult. It takes all of your Wanderer-tackling strength and poise to not giggle as you glance up at the tree topper.

Xavier looks up at it too. “Wait.” He narrows his eyes: inspection, not suspicion. “Is that… me?”

You couldn’t believe your luck when you found that star the other day, when you were out Christmas shopping with Tara. It’s pretty, shiny and golden— as all stars ought to be— but it’s also a photo frame. Maybe for pets? They’d used a picture of a cat on the box it came in, but you had a much, much better idea.

“Yeah…” you confirm. “I was tied, you know? Did I want an angel on top of the tree? Did I want a star? Then I thought—” you stretch, catching Xavier’s face in your hands— “why settle for one? Why not have both?”

His cheeks are being squished by your palms, but his eyes dart back to the tree topper. “Aww,” he says after a moment. “That’s cute.”

“You’re okay with it?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” His mouth is still pinched, and his voice? A mumble.

You let him go so you can gaze at the photo on top of the tree.

It’s not a flattering picture. You never thought you’d be able to say that, but you worked hard for it, so you can— it is not a flattering picture! It took you about a hundred ambushes with a camera. About a thousand, failed, flattering photos. His face stuns at literally every angle, and damn it, you now have proof! He’s blessed by gods you didn’t even know existed. He’s impossible. Insufferable.

But then you got that one photo.

… In Akso, when he was maybe sort of kinda unconscious, even bleeding a little, but it’s fine! He was fine, wasn’t he? One flash of your phone, one scathing look from dear Doctor Zayne, and you got it:

The one photo of Xavier where he doesn’t look like a model. At least… not for anything anyone would want.

“It’s… not the best picture,” you answer finally. You don’t know what else to say; you thought your masterpiece would speak for itself.

“I don’t know,” he muses. “I think I look handsome. Why? Don’t you?”

Blue eyes turn on you, wide like the baubles on the tree, and sparkling with just as many Christmas lights. You feel like you’ve kicked a puppy. “Well, yeah, of course,” you stammer, “but still, it isn’t—”

A flash.

You blink, stunned.

Xavier is smiling down at his phone, and realisation dawns on you. “Wait, did you just—”

He turns the phone around to show you the photo he just took of you, and suddenly ‘unflattering’ has a whole new face and meaning. Your eyes are closed. You’re mid-speech, but you look mid-sneeze. “For next year!” Xavier chirps sweetly.

“No, no, no, Xavier, you have to delete that. It’s Christmas! Come on, please, just—”

You grab at the phone but he’s way ahead of you, holding it up out of reach with an easy-going hum. He turns away— walks away— and you can’t see it, but as you nip at his heels, flailing and frantically begging, he smiles, triumphant.

[insomniadreamzz]

In love with the Wolf

Alpha!Jinx x Fem!Reader

This fic takes place in Omegaverse AU. Mentions of smut, blood, werewolves, violence, angst

This fic is also taking place in another world but with Arcane characters. A Fanfiction written by me. I don’t own any of the characters. Using (Y/N) in this fic as well for Reader.

Enjoy!

Prolouge

Jinx and Vi were both Alpha‘s and sisters. Their relationship wasn’t the best after their father died in an accident. Vi blaming Jinx for it, like she blamed her every time something went wrong. Since that accident both of them parted ways, Vi meeting a beautiful woman, a Omega called Caitlyn. Caitlyn grew up in well known pack, a family with a lot of money, living the fancy life together with Vi in a beautiful place, a mansion. Meanwhile Jinx stayed at their lifestyle they had before. Nothing looked pompous, she had a simple home, a little hideout where she spent her time resting after going hunting or just causing trouble in town. She was known for being a criminal who stole stuff from other werewolves that had a more fancier life or even going in the human town and causing trouble there.

Their father Vander always told them not to get close to the human town. It’s dangerous. Humans and Werewolves had their problems with each other obviously. War between humans and werewolves was always a thing but at that time things got quiet between them. The leader of the whole werewolf nation made a deal with the human one. A deal no one really knew exactly about but it was important for every nation that they stopped fighting and living their own life even tho there were a little outsiders who still caused trouble. Criminals like Jinx. How long will the armistice hold on until everything goes back to chaos again? Only time would tell.

———

„Is that really necessary?“ You asked as you looked at the mirror, your brother Victor helped you adjusting the tie of your new uniform.

„Of course it is. You’re an adult woman now and our government needs more people who take care of the well being of human existence. You have never been the girly girl ever since you were little. You wanted this don’t you remember? Protecting your home?“ He told you as he gave you a smile with a little hint of sadness in it. „I can’t do it because of my disability to walk but you can. Make your older brother proud.“ He mentioned and you smiled, nodding in response. Victor was right. He couldn’t do anything much but you could. Maybe it isn’t that bad and you could use what you will learn to protect your loved ones.

Even if there is no war at the moment there were still some outsiders who caused trouble on both sides, human and wolves. The city must be protected and you grew more proud with your new job, fighting for good all those years you grew stronger and smarter. At least you thought werewolves were bad and they had to be locked away as soon as they get into the human territory. It’s too dangerous letting those ‚animals‘ run free.

All those things got taught to you. All that hatred. But for what cost? Your brother disappeared and you were alone, living only for the well being of your hometown.

You didn’t know what happened to Victor. He just disappeared from one day to another. You made peace with your own mind, convincing yourself of thinking he won’t come back anymore so you will stop being disappointed every day he won’t stand in front of your door, telling you everything is fine.

„Make your older brother proud.“ That sentence from him creeped in your mind daily and you promised him you will make him proud.

You were walking along the streets, the whole morning was rather quiet, not much to do for you as you roamed along the usual are you were positioned on. You were about to take a break when you suddenly heard a loud bang, a building catching fire, your eyes widen as you saw the chaos only a few meters away from where you were standing. „Shit…“ You mumbled under your breath, running towards the building.

You saw a few people running into your direction, away from the fire, some of your coworkers who were located near your route were also on their way to where the explosion happened, helping injured people out of it.

You decided to get in, trying to find more possible injured people but you didn’t see anything, coughing as you inhaled the smoke of the fire which also made it hard for you to see anything. In the middle of the chaos you saw a figure sitting in the middle of the room you were standing. It was a female, giggling to herself insanely before she noticed your presence, pink glowing eyes looking straight into yours. Her grinning widely so you could see the tip of her fangs. She was one of them…

„What the hell are you doing!? Get outta here!“ You shout at her, not caring if she was one of the wolves. She was still a living being. Sometimes you thought you are too soft for this job but letting anyone die wasn’t one of your things to do. „Why? Don’t you love the chaos? I do like it. Because that’s all I can do right. Causing chaos and trouble.“ She answered and your eyes widened, realising she was responsible for that.

„Why???! Why did you do that? I mean-…fuck it!“ You grumbled, knowing it was pointless asking her that. When you heard the ceiling above you cracking, something snapped in your mind and you rushed to grab the other womans arm and dragging her out of here, she squirmed into your grip, clearly not wanting you to touch her but you didn’t care at this point. Just the moment you both got out, the building crushed together.

„Don’t fucking touch me!“ She growled, you having other plans though. „Are you kidding me? You are arrested.“ You said before a coworker joined you, his expression almost scared as he saw your grip on the other womans arm. „How…did you get her?“ He asked before taking the handcuffs, making sure to put them around her wrists, you both having a hard time to make her stay still but you somehow managed it together.

„What? Why are you so shocked? Isn’t that my job?“ You asked him and his answer kind of surprised you. „That’s Jinx. You have never heard of her? She is well known for doing crimes. You will get a huge price for catching her!“

Your eyes widen in surprise. That woman was Jinx? She didn’t even try to fight you but why? Why was she so easy to get? Something is definitely off here. Jinx didn’t even look at you both, she looked to the ground, looking at absolutely nothing. She looked empty and sad. She did give up so quickly it made you wonder why or was it a trick?

Ever since that day you couldn’t stop thinking about Jinx. You wondered why she didn’t try to escape from you, she could easily turn into her wolf form and escape also the colour of her eyes…that pink colour. Usually werewolves had golden eyes, why were hers so…unique? You wanted to know more about her.

It was your free day but you still made your way to the cells, the urge to see Jinx again and getting to know more about her was just too intense. You knew she probably wouldn’t want to talk but at least you could try. Maybe you could also understand how that species is thinking and if they really are this bad. You always believed in the good in people and you wanted to give it a try.

When you stood in front of her cell you saw her being all curled up in the corner, her long blue hair hanging over her face you could barely see her. The walls of the cell were covered in scratch marks, telling you she probably freaked out in there. You didn’t even habe to say anything, she could sense your presence, her head slowly lifting to look at you, thise eyes already made you feel lost in them. Her gaze was tired, she was tired. Probably from crying, her dark makeup all smudged, cheeks stained with dried tears. „What do you want? Judging me?“ She grumbled but you didn’t answer yet. You crouched down to be the same level as her, showing her you don’t wanna do anything bad. „I want to understand you.“ You finally spoke with a soft voice, making her grunt in return. „No one understands me.“ She said, both of you staying silent for a while before she finally decided to say something.

„I lost everyone. My father is dead because of me fucking up…my sister blaming me for everything that ever went wrong and left me for a fancy bitch that hates me, everyone hates me. What’s the point of trying to keep a living? Nothing. I have no one.“ Her sudden openness was surprising but you understood the part of having no one. „You know…I have no one as well…my brother…he is gone. I don’t know if he is even alive anymore. Our parents died when we were younger.“ You mentioned, looking at Jinx who hugged herself as her nails digged into her upper arms, making her bleed. „You don’t understand half of what I am feeling.“ She continued pushing you away with her words but you stayed stubborn. „So all of this chaos because you have no one?“ You dared to ask and she snorted, snapping her head up as she looked at you, her eyes filled with rage but also with pain. „I wanted to show them all! I wanted to show what I can do! But…I always end up fucking up so I accepted that this is all I can do. I can’t do anything good.“ She snarled before getting up, walking towards you as she grabbed the metal rods of the cell. „What do you even know? You’re just a human.“

„Maybe I am just a human.“ You said before standing up as well, looking directly into her eyes. „You decided to cause trouble here. That’s not your home, that’s just not right. Of course we have to do something about it don’t we?“

„A human killed my father! My fault or not he died by a humans hands! I hate you! I hate what you are!“ She kept on yelling at you, her rage radiating a lot of power but you stayed calm. „You would have been arrested in your own home as well by doing that crime. You can’t blame every human for what they have done to your family. I do believe that if we would work together instead of wanting to erase each other we will have a much more peaceful life.“ You explained, her expression still angry but surprisingly she listened to you. „Jinx. You can do better than that I know it. I don’t care what you are. You are unique. Please remember my words okay? Think about it.“ You said before turning to leave, hoping Jinx will really think about what you told her. Maybe you had a chance to get her convinced to use her intelligence and powers for good. Just maybe.

To be continued

I hope you enjoyed the first part!! It’s more of an introduction but dw part 2 will come soon! Let me know if you like this story and wanna see more. I have a lot for you incoming. ❤️

[permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88]

Let us all take a moment of silence to mourn Mr. Hearts.

Poor lil' stuffie. He died with honor. 🥺

Anyway... 😂😂

I absolutely loved this! It was an absolutely perfect mix of palpable (and understandable) terror, confusion, humor from Logan's remarks, the way I could absolutely hear every single line you gave him in my head, and visualize his reactions...it was just...GAHHHH! I'm always so speechless and incoherent when I read anything you've written, there's a part of me that's always fearful you'll tire of my rambling (and potentially repetitive) remarks, but...I can't (read: won't) seem to stop, so...hopefully you don't mind too much?

I really can't wait to see more of this, because I need to know how things progress between these two. How our reader adjusts to what is going on, how Logan copes with realizing where he is, etc. You've hooked me on yet another story, my dear! (Not that I'm surprised).

Toy Soldiers | part one | worst!wolverine x namelessfem!OC

synopsis: He was just a one of those fast food kid’s meal toys from 1993—key word, was. now he’s Hugh Jackman incarnate, standing in the master bedroom of her midwestern apartment, lost in time and infinity. she’s gotta get him back to his world, where he’s the worst Wolverine, where he belongs—or, maybe not?

warnings: Indian in the Cupboard themes (iykyk), fluff, AU, not entirely sure what else at this point, nameless!femOC with blue eyes could be interpreted as reader, mentions of a best friend named Rose, etc, literally based on this silly little toy I rescued and now have crafted extensive lore for.

a/n: i didn't ask for this to become a multi-chapter thing. i really didn't, ok? this got away from me, but i really love these two so much already. this was fun to write, and she's a fun character to develop. worst!wolverine is just occupying too much brain space.

MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION

Dreaming in color is a pro, when you weigh it against the cons—usually.

She’d been dreaming in movie-like quality since she was a kid, could pinpoint almost to the exact timespace when she first realized her dreams were akin to Hollywood flicks roving about her brain like Spielberg classics.

She’d been six, maybe seven. A hopeless crush on Wednesday night’s Steve Irwin had somehow twisted the innocent power of her brain—the only, almost divine dreamstate visit to Australia she’d ever taken. Still she can taste the hot air, thick with sweat and arid desert, from the back of an obscure Land Rover, jostled and bouncing along forgotten roads and who-knows trails. Eyeballing open sky and endless outback sands, the Crocodile Hunter and his darling wife, Terri, vivid imaginations to a childhood fantasy yet, mostly, unlived. 

And ever since this God-granted, she’d always assumed it was a gift and thus titled it so, she’d been dreaming vividly most of the last twenty four years. Forgetting her dreams was the exception, black and white—unheard of. Tasting, speaking, reading, touch was wrapped up in REM and weighted blankets, vicarious life she’d never, really, lived in her waking moments—everything from the supernatural to gut-wrenching. Martial bliss and familial tragedy. Combat she could only ever hope wasn’t accurate. Fame and fortune. R rated filmstrips that left her stomach light and fluttery every morning, promptly, at 4:45—alarm shrieking in her ear, viscerally ripping her back to the land of the living with frothing teeth, the Greatest Showman custom alarm all but a slap in the face.  

It’s, as usual, dark when the numbers on her phone roll over to 4:45—sucked out of a dream like the vacuum of space itself lays claim to her soul, her eyes flutter open heavily to stare at the alarm. Hugh Jackman would never be so unwelcome as he is now, blaring from little iPhone speakers—she manages to lift a noodle-esque arm to slap at the noise hanging out in the darkness around the vicinity of her nightstand. 

Fingers locate the smooth screen, swipe away the prompt for snooze. Roll over. Hand over her eyes—it’s Saturday The day after Friday, her first day alone all week. World beyond is closed away behind walls and empty schedules, priorities otherwise left-fielded for such days as this.  

Warmth simmers beneath heavy weighted covers, trapped against her body. Clawing up through her mattress, threatening to pull her back into oblivion. Pharaoh’s hadn’t been so mummified, entombed as she is now, but that’s the beauty of a queen mattress left unshared—solidarity. Armies only wish they held such control over real estate as she did these sheets, this bed frame—very little could remove her from the ecstasy that is this Eden, the one place that did not require compliance, performance, untenable perfection.

Here she could rot for hours, engage in adventure that the earth would never understand—that man would jeer. 

Heaving a sigh melts her deeper into her astronaut-designed mattress, stomach suddenly flatter than it’s ever been as gently fingers tease at the strip of skin exposed. Back arching, stirring nearly-paralyzed muscle. Toes skip over warm satin sheets as she navigates to her side, arm tucking beneath her pillow. Drawing blankets to her chin, another deep breath closes her eyes, shuts off her brain—all but ready to return to dreamstate, the screen on her phone illuminates again—diiiiing.

Light explodes, lighting up the area of her nightstand just enough to give purpose to her surroundings. 

Nose scrunching in an effort to unhear and forget the notification, her eyes slowly pull open as she considers the phone. It’s her best friend, she knows it is—Rose is up early. All the time. Taking care of her little family at the base of the Teton mountains, as if this is Little House on the Prairie and such things were the norm.

Her inability to ignore anything from Rose props her up on an elbow, has her reaching for her phone—thumbs the passcodes. Opens the text, eyes scanning the message from last night. 

It’s a photo message. She’d sent it last night, proudly showing off the latest addition to her childhood nostalgia collection—a thrift store find, the little McDonald’s toy is hardly noteworthy. Scuffed and worn, it had seen adventures, surely, in its pre-her-possession life. Surprise had knocked her between the eyes like a stone when she’d managed to spy 1993 printed on the little action hero’s foot, in barely-there legalese. 

At thirty-one years old, one may have expected the little five-cent made-in-Taiwan to end up in the landfill, rotting alongside near-radioactive diapers or kill-the-turtles plastic straws.

Nope, not this one—Marvel’s very own little Wolverine. Dolled up in a cute little sci-fi bronze suit, ready for a fight. Retractable claws, the hardly-scuffed cowl, a proud encircled X in all its glory—wrapped up in a little sandwich baggie marked down at the thrift. She’d almost felt sorry for him in that cute aggressive way. 

And almost giddy at the fluke cocktail of age and condition, she’d pocketed the little guy. A pleased smile, her very own little Wolvie nestled in the leathers of her jacket, then the bottom of her purse. He’d adventured to work with her accidentally on Friday, plastic eyes watching her pass the time at the office from his little perch beside her keyboard and Starbucks. Almost had forgotten him, poor thing—he’d landed on her nightstand among the other needs-put-away items for the weekend, proudly standing in his posed little battle stance.

All he needed was matching Sabretooth, maybe Magneto, and he’d be good to go. 

Looky who came home with *me*, shot over to Rose with a little thrill, a Snapchat-like photo of him perched alongside her night cream and phone charger. More of a proud sentinel guarding her bedside table than anything, she’d regarded him playfully, like a child—had told him to close his eyes when she’d undressed. Had asked him about a movie to watch in bed as she managed hip-opening exercises, relaxing breathing techniques. All but kissed him goodnight, promising to get him settled among her other collectable childhood wonders in the morning.

After coffee and cardio, wouldn’t Hugh be proud. 

Rose’s LOL text all but smiles back at her, and she’s a little cross-eyed from the brightness of her phone. It improves when her eyes skate away from the phone, to the little Wolverine—wait.

Brow furrowing, his absence from the nightstand sparks more panic than she’d be willing to admit in therapy—she bends over the side of her bed, fingertips skating the floor in search of her little plastic wonder. Nothing but plush carpet, abandoned laundry she’d failed to relocate to her drawers—her phone slips from her hand as she hauls herself over the bedside, to peer beneath.

It’s dark, duh, and she fumbles upside-down with the flashlight on her phone. Sun levels of intense light, she makes arching passes beneath her bed, but no dice. Nada. Zilch–zippo on the Wolverine toy. 

“Well this is just a little ridiculous,” her mumble rolls off a dry tongue, from messy hair as she works herself back up from hanging over the bedside. 

Forcing off her weighted blankets has never felt more urgent, importance spiking her blood with ill-placed adrenaline she doesn’t understand—why she cares so much about a little three-decade-old McDonald’s toy she’ll never understand, but the thought of him lost in the abyss of her house is more unsettling, again, than she’d admit in therapy.

Legs swinging over the bed, she plucks her glasses from the tray on her nightstand, grabbing for the light robe dragging the floor from one of the nightstand’s knobs. 

Wrestling a steer would’ve been easier than un-inside-outing the garment, still hazy and half-asleep and wholly uncaffeinated, but she manages. Another scout under her bed reveals that, no, little Wolvie isn’t among the dust bunnies and lint of her carpeted under-bed floor.

Brow furrowing, her glasses slip down her nose as she hauls herself back to her feet, sleep-stiff muscles protesting as she massages the back of her neck. 

Hands on her hips, she reaches for her phone. “Had I known you had teleportation powers, little Lo, I’d have sold you off to NASA—come on,” Triggering the flashlight on her phone again, she dives to check between the headboard and mattress, to see if her Logan lookalike decided to magically dive headfirst into the almost-abyss—

“—you make a habit of talkin’ to open air, girlie?” 

Two things happen immediately in her body. 

First. Alarm jumps up in her chest like a devil, deep claws sinking into the meat of her chest only to rip away any sense of safety taking up residence behind her ribs, in her bones. Heart forgetting to throb, blood all but stands still in her veins, asystole in her arteries—she can feel the lining of her stomach twist into a viper-like coil so cold, she fears frostbite has set into her organs.

Fear knocks hard on the door of her sternum, ripping the wind from her lungs. Terror opens up her vocal cords and bludgeons a song from her throat, but it’s so dry in her apartment that the fleshy membranes of her mouth have all but become cragged Sahara sands. Tongue swelling to the size of her fist, she fears she’ll choke on it. Forces it against the back of her bottom teeth, jaw clenching with enough force to break open the world. 

Legs somehow managing to propel her up onto her mattress, across the bed, to the farthest corner of the space. Cold sweat raises to a dance across her skin, satin sleeping pants clinging to the flesh of her thighs as sapphire eyes attack the figure cutting through the threshold of her door—hands low and open, in placating surrender.

Brow furrowed with canyon deep lines, dark eyes flick over her frame as she takes a step back for each of the ones he cautiously makes into the room. Invading her privacy, an unwelcome intruder. 

“Easy, sweetheart,” early morning gravels his words, which hang low in baritones not at all unfamiliar, “‘m not gonna hurt you. You breathin’ ok?” Genuine concern passes through his eyes, deep and alive, but—not in a bright way. The corner of his lip tips up, “Don’t mean to scare ya, pretty.” 

Pretty? Sweetheart? Who the hell is this—?

Any familiarity his face holds is lost to the bite of adrenaline, slavering teeth trenching into the back of her brain. Seeming to lap at the spinal fluid all but bubbling down the length of her back. Chest heaving with effort, she fears her ribs might break. Cardiac muscle behind her chest bones all but explodes with every heavy heartbeat, reminding her to stay alive. That she, still, is living. 

Stomach sour, twisting like corded steel, she lunges for the foot of her bed—snatched the first thing she can retrieve. Face all but a blazing inferno of heat, nails all but pike into the soft plush of a stuffed animal. Her favorite. Or, rather, was—now little more than a weapon, it stands between her and the invasion like a fortress. 

“What the hell are you doing here,”she challenges, taking a half step back. Memories of kickboxing classes, somewhere in her youth, escape through the fingers of memories in the back of her head. More boxing posture than anything, she lifts her arms to chin level. Fingers tear into the stuffie like it’s a lifeline, like it’s protection. And for now, it is. 

Not giving him the chance to answer, his mouth hangs open in muted response, ���This is my apartment—you can either leave or I’ll–I’ll forcibly remove you.” It would take a 911 call—it would mean grabbing her phone from the nightstand, punching the emergency button, and staying away from him during response time. All unlikely, given proximity. The size of the apartment. How he blocks the only damn exit with his huge-ass frame. 

Jaw snapping closed, a thick brow pops up. He chuckles. He think this is funny, “Whoa, take it easy, bub—” 

“—shut up! Stop talking!” Pointing a strong finger at him, she shuffles back on light feet. Bobbing as best she can, trying to appear light. Prepared. But everything in every manual in the world wouldn’t have prepared her for home invasion—all those home defense classes. The hours shooting clays and targets with her father. Worthless. 

I am so going to die. 

Another step into her sanctuary, holy of holies. “Quit moving, damnit!” 

The stranger stops mid-stride, brows arched in surprise at her tone of voice. Squinched nose, and tightly shut eyes add to what must be a comical look on her face. Coupled with crimson cheeks and the shake setting into her hands, she surely looks—well. A sight, if little else.

Realizing nothing short of an eternity has lapsed in the cool peace and blissfully ignorant darkness of closed eyes, hers pop open. She watches has near-pawlike hands, mapped with raised veins and pronounced callous, drop to his sides for all of a minute. Her heart cuts against her ribs like an ax laid to roots, willing to break something loose—he chuckles. Laughs. Some faraway light catches the darkness of his eyes, brightens his face in a way that only ever seemed so Hollywood, but is now real. 

And he laughs with his entire body for all of a few seconds, wrinkles at either side of his eyes deepening into canyons that seem to fill with his amusement, at her expense.Mind short circuiting, her toes curl into the carpet, calluses on her heels catching frayed fibers as she does her best, again, to stay light on her feet. Nothing about her is light, certainly, and she attempts to calculate distance, how many seconds it would take her launch her body forward, toward the door. Past him, into the corridor, out the front door.

 HIs hand extends, palm up. Waving her forward, as if she were some thing to beckon—

—until her stuffie chucks directly at his face, a blur of hot-pink fur and fluff. 

The moment she arched her arm and sent Mr. Hearts on his first-ever attempt of flight, her feet springboard off the carpet, launching her forward at a speed she never thought possible. Adrenaline jumpstarts every one of her cells, lacing through her veins like rocket fuel—and the world spins by in a blur of color, her chest racked with pain as her heart racehorses behind bones that are no less than temperatures akin to magma. 

Tunnel vision blocks out the world, save the nearly sparkling promise of the room’s exit. Tears bubble up on her lash line, hot and intruders on any clarity of brainspace she’s trying to will forward. Hot, breathy fear closes her throat, nothing but blood rivers through her ears—nothing except the ache of her throbbing heart, the painful push and pull of her lungs expanding and retracting. 

They say hearing is the last thing to go when your soul begins to fade into death, but it’s a lie—she can’t hear a damn thing. And she’s more than alive.

Missing completely the soft snikt!, the what-would-usually-be unmissable split of skin, there’s a muffled tearing of fabric as once beloved Mr. Hearts suddenly becomes two halves of himself. Puffy stuffing explodes into the air, faintly she can feel her beloved stuffed animal hit the floor mutedly. In some back door of her brain she knows what’s happened, but survival carries her feet—pumps her arms. Zeroes her gaze on the door, blocks out anything other than the gut instinct to run, run, run hard. 

Finger reach to grab the doorway, hurl herself around the corner—but it’s too late. Electric movement snaps through the air, a microsecond passes before a thick, heavy arm catches her around her waist. Hauls her backward, sucks her from the door like something from  Star Wars, the world spinning by in a Picasso of color and tears as she’s manhandled, forced back. Kicking her feet into the air, she wills him to break, throwing her body mass back, against him. Arches her back. Wrangles and claws at the hair on his arm, the muscle that is taught against her rebellion.  

Throat splitting with a shriek, she’s silenced when his enormous palm claps hard over her mouth. It feels like centuries have passed, but in reality, it’s been seconds. Breaths and heartbeats. Tears trailblaze hot down her face, her throat all but reverberating with sobs. Body heat wraps around her, butter down her spine as the arm around her middle pulls her tighter. Closer. Keep your enemies close—

And he’s tall, legs anchored behind her. Like a brick house. Snot begins to empty her sinuses in a slick, sticky mess. Her mouth attempts to open behind the palm of his hand,all saliva and spit. Doesn’t seem to do much. Digging her heels into the floor, her foot skims the floor. Looks for one of his. Finding it, she slams her heel against would-be soft bones, and he hisses. Grunts like an animal.

“Knock it off,” his baritone rumbles, a dangerous growl over her ear, “not here to hurt you, darlin’.” A lie. She doesn’t believe him, digs her heels farther into the soft flesh of his feet. Buries her nails into his muscle, the soft flesh of that tender spot under the wrist. Veins, lots of blood there. 

Something obscene slips past his lips. Fighting back more stinging tears, his fingers curl around her wrist bruisingly, and with herculean strength, he whips her about-face, suddenly chest-to-chest with her as his fingers fist in her hair. Pulls sharply, “fuckin’ hell—calm the fuck down,” his fingers fall from her hair, instead grab her chin with an almost bruising grip, “stop bawlin’, for Christssake,” 

Her nails milk as they dig into his wrist, deep red lines canyon the hand holding her face with a patience lost to most members of his sex. Hard, dark eyes hold hers with a fierceness that numbs her intestinal tract. For a moment, an arctic swirl is born and dies in his gaze, resurrected instead a hint of grief and—empathy, maybe. A lostness she can’t describe. Confusion punches lines between his knitted brows, etching deep into ruddy, masculine features a kind of unwordly handsome, had he not been sent to kill her. 

Oh God, please—Shaking, her eyes pinch closed again, unwilling to let him see any more of her soul. More snot and tears, saliva pearls between the seam of her lips as she tries, and fails, not to blubber. Knees buckle. Hangs there, full weight of her body supported on her chin between his fingers, jaw suddenly alive with inferno pain. It lasts seconds before he lets her go, and she sinks to the floor, slackdoll and sobbing. Staring across the floor, her cheek burns against the harsh fibers of the floor. 

Her belt. Abandoned, on the floor last night after a work dinner. It’s the only thing, and her brain conjures images of just exactly how she’d use it, suddenly Jackie Chan or GI Jane or some shit she’s seen a thousand times on film, has never executed. Hiccuping in short breaths between sniffles and sobs, tears leak into the carpet off her cheek. Her heart pumps blood that may as well pool into her chest, leak between the cracks in her confidence. 

Stepping back, he looks at her. A cocktail of surprise and irritated, he sinks to a crouch. Shakes off red marks that still linger on his arm, wipe her snot and saliva on his-–are those yellow?-–pants. No time to notice, to care—her nails catch against the fibers of the carpet. Begin to push her bodyweight up, on an elbow. 

Unburdening a sigh, his hand scrubs his face as hers darts across floorspace. Snatching the belt with a speed she’s never fostered, he doesn’t even have time to put two and two together before the leather snaps like a whip, thick silvers from a rodeo buckle landing fully on the bone of his jaw. Cuts a deep line that flashes scarlet, rips open flesh like a fillet knife. 

“Fuck!” it’s harsh, bestial.

Reeling back, she finds time to scramble to her feet like a clumsy foal, looping the belt around her fist once as he pops tall. Backpedaling away from arm’s length, she pistons towards the door, on fire and pumping adrenaline like a sieve. 

And she flies. Out of the bedroom. Down the corridor. Somehow she manages to find her keys on the kitchen table as his heavy, earthshaking feet pump down the hall. Fumbles over her own feet at the front door, slams into it hard, bounces off. Fingers suddenly unable to communicate coherently with her brain, the chain lock on her apartment door is all but burning as she tries, and fails, to work it just so. 

“Come on, come on! Work, you piece of shit—” she’s never sworn more in her life than she has now, and it’s sour, like bile splashing up on her back teeth. But it rips from her throat all the same, bitter and hot, as she mutters fuck, fuck, fuck me! under short, airy breaths that do nothing to put oxygen back into her body. May as well be a drowning soul, the way she sucks in air. Gasps for breath. Drowning or an emphysemic. 

Ignoring the hard breathing behind her is impossible. Whirling around on the ball of her foot, he’s close enough to lock her against the door. Her head falls back hard enough to knock against the door, rattle her teeth. And as her vision begins to settle from the bouncing in her cranium, she sees the three blades bury to the knuckle—the knuckle?—in her heavy, pristine oak front door. Rattles the wall, splits the sheetrock. 

Pupils blown wide, she can feel all the blood leave her body. Terror locks her spine between slavering, hungry teeth. Gaze welded to the blood pearling from fresh wounds between white knuckles, the hinge of her jaw fails. Her mouth opens mutedly, enough for him to count her teeth if he so desired. 

And maybe he does. “Goin’ somewhere, honey,” it isn’t a question. That grin is animalistic. “Stay awhile, huh?” 

He closes in. Her head snaps forward to find him. Nose to nose, he sneers at her, and her eyes think to move to the fillet of open flesh her attack has left on his jawline—or, had. No evidence of even so much as a mark on the sharp line of his jaw, just dark facial hair and sweat that’s bubbling up on his skin, angry red that fans up his neck. Swearing to God she can see the vein in his temple throb with blood, her grip on the leather belt tightens before reality sets in. 

Ohmygod, ”You’re—” her stomach resurrects up her throat. ”—Jesus,” and it isn’t so much a curse as it is a prayer, a hope. A lifeline—grasping at straws, praying something sticks.

Reality begins to fall away, through boneless fingers. Feeling the belt slip from her control, her throat suddenly constricts to the point of oxygen deprivation. Gaping like a fish, her tongue swells to a thick cotton she can no longer feel. 

Numb—everything buzzes with that painful, white-noise needling. 

And she does the only thing her body can manage. Shoves past him just enough to upset a chair—

—-and throws up. 

still working on my taglist but: @thevoicefromanotherworld @sidkneeeee @misscrissfemmefatale @eternallyfrustratedwriter and those who showed interest: @ayamenimthiriel @pandapetals @theoreticalfreak @definitely-not-chill @ghostytoasty17 @werewolfpilar

[sunsetsandsunshine]

~ 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎 ~

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚂𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌 𝟹 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚖𝚢 𝚂𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌 𝚑𝚢𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚒𝚡𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 😭👍🏾…˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟺,𝟸𝟽𝟻

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙺𝚗𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜 🥊❤️

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙼𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚎 🥨💜

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙺𝚗𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝙶𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝙷𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚜…𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚙𝚝. 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝, 𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝…

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙰 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙. 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎…𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚎𝚜, 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚔!!!

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙼𝙰𝙳𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙸𝙽 𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙴 𝙳𝙰𝚈𝚂 𝙳𝙾𝙽’𝚃 𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚈𝚈𝚈𝚈𝚈˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Maddie almost fully leaped out of her spot on the bed her and her husband shared as she suddenly awoke, her eyes darting around the room before taking a deep breath, relaxing herself. 

She didn’t need to use the bathroom…

And she made sure all of the kids (+ Ozzie) were in their beds…

So why did she feel so…uneasy?

Tom broke through his sleep at the sudden movement from his wife, holding her hand as he rubbed it with his thumb gently, “Everything okay, love?” He mumbled out groggily. 

Maddie couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at her husband’s sleepy voice, giving his hand a quick kiss as she got up from the bed, “I’m fine, babe. I just…I-I just…” She trailed off.

The cop yawned, raising a brow, “Having those random feelings of uneasiness again?” 

The woman in purple pajamas nodded. 

“Gonna go check up on our kids?”

She nodded once more.

“M'kay…” The famous Donut Lord yawned, drifting back to sleep, “Just call me if you need anything…” He mumbled as he closed his eyes and snored like no tomorrow.

Maddie rolled her eyes fondly, putting on her fluffy purple robe that was hoisted on a clothing hanger as put on her house slippers, going upstairs to the attic. 

The nurse quietly made her way to the attic, her heart racing with a sort of…adrenaline as she made her way to the beds…

…Although, she didn’t know why.

First, she made her way to Tails' bed, who, was soundly sleeping peacefully underneath his blankets. Maddie kissed his forehead, adjusting his noise canceling headphones on his ears as she further tucked him in as she made her way to Sonic…

And ohhhhhh, Sonic…

The kid was basically sprawled along his bed like a used up rag-doll…

…Which, Maddie didn’t know whether to mark it off as concerning or impressive. 

Maybe both.

The adult wrapped the blue hedgehog in his favorite blanket, kissing his forehead and subtly giggling as she saw him smile in his sleep at the kiss.

Lastly, she made her Knuckles' bed…

…That was missing, well…Knuckles. 

The woman took a deep breath, taking her phone out of her robe pocket as she tried to calm herself. 

He was going to absolutely GET IT if he went out 'adventuring' again. 

Maddie could not handle another week asking random people in Green Hills of the red echidna’s whereabout’s…

…Her heart just could not take that amount of stress anymore!

And if Wade was even the SLIGHTEST bit responsible he was going to GET IT too.

The brown eyed human made her way downstairs, relief washing over her as she saw the back quills of a familiar red fellow sitting at the bottom of the stairs that led to the kitchen. 

“…Knuckles?” She quietly said. 

The echidna swiftly turned around at the woman’s words, his pupils sharpening before softening upon realizing who was behind him. 

As he met her concerned yet loving gaze, he looked away, focusing on the wooden floor as if it was the most interesting thing as of right now.

Well…at least it was just Madeline. 

Or 'Pretzel Woman' as the red themed teenager liked to call her.

It honestly could have been way worse…

…The blue themed hedgehog could have awoken instead of Maddie…

…And that would have been a whole other problem Knuckles did not have the time or patience for. 

The teenager forced himself to relax slightly, his shoulders still tense in case of anything or…anyonedeciding to…surprise him.

Because he was an echidna warrior! He simply just did not get sneaked up on. 

“Pretzel Woman.” He hummed, “I would not have expected you to be awake at such hours…” 

“I wish I could say the same for you, sweetheart…” The 'Pretzel Woman' in question chuckled lightly, coming down and sitting on the stair the small teen was stifly sitting on, “What are you doing up, love?”

“I am keeping watch.” Knuckles stated simply, his seating spot remaining on the steps but his eyes darting in every which way around the house, seeming to look for a nonexistent threat. 

Or grapes. Those he will always look out for.

“Did…I wake you?” His violet eyes morphing into one of guilt, “I am sorry if that is the case…I tried to be as silent as possible whilst scouting this evening.” 

“No no! Not at all.” Maddie quickly assured, “I-I just…had a certain…feeling to get up, y'know?” 

But Knuckles did not know, only quietly nodding his head as he tried to make sense of what the chocolate eyed human was stating, “…I see.” He hummed once more, now looking up as he peered on the outside door, his eye ridges creasing together. 

Maddie fiddled with her fingers anxiously, not appreciating the sudden silence as she tried to collect her thoughts to think of what to say next.

Because, truth be told…Knuckles has been doing this…'guarding' business ever since he came to live in Green Hills. 

And it was somewhat nice the first week…

A tad bit jarring the second week…

But now it was the third week. 

And Maddie cannot recall one time she has seen Knuckles shut his eyes for more than a second.

“You are distressed.” The short teenager concluded bluntly, observing Maddie’s facial expression and body language, “Are you perhaps…cold?” 

The woman let a small smile strech to her features at that, “I’m not cold, sweetheart. But thank you for your concern.” She said gently, resting her hand on the teenager’s shoulder but drawing it back as the teeanger in question stifened further at the sudden contact. 

“But…I am worried.” The purple cladded woman stated, well…worriedly as she put her hands on her lap. 

The fifteen year old’s eye ridges knitted together in slight confusion, letting out a small: “Oh.” 

He looked up at her, “Why is that?”

The nurse started, “You’ve been staying up—”

“Scouting.” Knuckles politely corrected.

“—scouting…” She corrected herself, “…for three weeks straight, Knux. Aren’t you tired?”

“No.” The violet eyed teen uttered, “An echidna warrior is only tired when they need be. Which, I am not.” He stated, ironically burying back a small yawn that was bubbling in his throat.

Which, did not go unnoticed by Maddie. 

“Everyone gets tired eventually…” The human said, “It’s not healthy to just…skip sleep, hun. It’s not good for you.” 

“Only I know what is good and what is not good for me, Pretzel Woman.” The red echidna huffed, completely brushing off the other’s concern, “I will sleep when my duty is done.”

“Your…'duty?'” Maddie repeated.

Knuckles nodded, putting his right fist on his chest as he spoke, “I have promised you, the Lord of the Donuts, the loud hedgehog and the anxious fox to guard the Master Emerald, yes?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“And I have also promised to protect you all.” He announced proudly and matter-of-factly, “A protector never rests.” 

“Hun…I think we’ve proven we’re more than capable at protecting ourselves.” The human lightly joked as she almost immediately regretted her statement and tone as she saw the teen’s expression shift from proud to…distress. 

And there it is...

…You have such a wonderful way of words, Madeline…

…SUCH a wonderful way with words…

A flash of hurt made their way through Knuckles' eyes, though, he tried to hide it as we looked away, glaring at the floor slightly he hugged himself, which made the human feel even more guilty, “…I…I am aware of that fact.”

And immediately the adult started to backtrack at the teenager’s now almost distraught and downtrodden expression, “I-It’s not that we don’t appreciate it— appreciate you, love. I just don’t want you collapsing randomly one day because you’re staying up every single night keeping watch of us and the house.”

“I do not collapse.” The kid said in an almost defensive-like tone, “And when I eventually will, I would gladly do so knowing I have protected you all to the fullest.” 

And right then and there Maddie could have sworn she felt her heart stop at that, feeling the smallest twinge of lightheadedness as she curled her fingers, forming fists on her lap. 

“No!” The human shouted, lowering her voice as she realized she yelled a tad bit too loudly, making Knuckles flinch slightly at the sudden exclamation, “No no no! Knuckles, where is this coming from?!” 

The nurse pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to stay calm but found it really difficult due to the fact one of her kids openly stated he would be fine literally DYING if it meant he would fulfill his 'duty', “I don’t want you staying up guarding, scouting— whatever you call it! I just don’t want you doing any of those things!” 

The echidna’s face morphed to a frown, “But—“

“No, Knux…” Maddie said, her tone leaving no room for argument…

…The 'Mother voice' if you will…

“This is the last time you’re doing something like this. End of story.” The purple cladded human said, crossing her arms across her chest.

And then again, there was…a small silence that fell between the two. 

A silence neither of them liked at all. 

But the air was too thick with…all of a sudden tension that they both stayed quiet, in fear they would say the wrong thing…

…Again.

But eventually, the red echidna couldn’t take the silence; couldn’t take the tension any longer. 

He looked at the figure in front of him once more, fixing his composure to appear more confident…but ultimately just appearing to be straight up panic-stricken. 

“Then what can I do…?” He mumbled out meekly.

Maddie’s hands dropped to her sides, her eyebrows creasing together, “…What…do you mean?”

“To…To repay you all.” The violet eyed teenager further explained, mentally punching himself for sounding so completely and utterly…weak, “To make up for what I’ve done previously. T-To…guarntee my stay in the Wachowski clan.”

And those words alone spoke measures. 

The nurse’s heart might of well dropped all the way to the floor, because all of a sudden she felt like she could not breathe. 

She puts Knuckles' hand in hers, even though the echidna’s hand was obviously and ultimately TWICE her hand size…she didn’t care.

For crying out loud this was her son.

And she would never ever forgive herself if after this he would continue to think otherwise.

Then…

…Everything clicked. 

“…Sweetheart…did you…d-did you think we were going to…kick you out…?” She asked as if she already knew the answer, afraid of what the other would say. 

The short teenager picked up quickly that Maddie somehow knew now, guilt almost immediately hitting him like a train as he hugged himself with his free hand, looking down at his lap, “Yes.” He admitted, hugging himself more as he saw the other start to become teary eyed, “Before coming here to the Wachowski residance…I was responsible for so many casualties…” He muttered, “…I still am.”

The teenager’s tail droops, bringing his fist to his face to try and hide his also now tearing up expression, “I helped Robotnik seize control of your town and almost the entire planet…” 

“…I-If I had just listened to Sonic…your house would not still be under repair. You and the Lord of Donuts would not have to call that 'Uber' you always speak of every morning to simply go to your designated jobs!” He yelled, not really caring if anyone else besides Maddie heard him at this point.

“Growing up, my Father always told me to never put my hands on someone else unless they did so to me first…” He murmured, a hint of fondness in his tone speaking of his as of late Father.   

“I broke that promise when I met Sonic.” He mumbled out, ignoring the feelings of his eyes starting to become more wet, “But…B-But above all else…all my Father wanted for me was for me to be a good person…”

Knuckles let out a small sob, harshly wiping his face as his shoulder hung low…

…Out of hatred or frustration…? 

Maybe a little bit of both…? 

Maddie wasn’t sure.

“A-And I promised him. I swore on my life I would live by those two promises…” The small echidna hiccuped, yanking his arm away from the human as he gripped his arm with one hand until he couldn’t feel it anymore, “A-And I f-failed those two simple oaths b-by j-j-just acting so f-foolish…” 

The taller figure watched the other shake with sobs, swiftly scooting closer to him as she gently held his wrists to stop him from further hurting himself.  

“Oh, sweetheart…” She mumbled, her heart heavy as she saw the teenager duck his head further, “Hey…hey…” Maddie whispered, cupping the echidna’s face in her palms.

And to be completely honest? Knuckles wanted to hurt himself further as he did nothing but melt to the small but impactful form of affection…

“Can you look at me?” The nurse carefully asked. 

Knuckles quietly looked at her, his face scrunched up to try and attempt to stop the tears freely flowing down his cheeks like a waterfall. 

Maddie sighed sadly, wiping his tears with her thumb as she gently rubbed his cheeks, “I need you to listen to me, okay?”

He shakily nodded.

“You are a good person.” She emphasized sternly, “One mistake that you made doesn’t automatically define your worth.”

“This…” She said, gesturing to herself and Knuckles. “…is not a transaction. We are giving you a room to sleep in because we love you. We are giving you clothes to wear because we love you. We are giving you food to eat because we love you…”

“…Even though I would prefer you eat something other than grapes.” She tried to joke, which ended up finally working very effectively as she saw a small but genuine smile appear on the echidna’s face.

Knuckles couldn’t help but let out a soft snort, rolling his eyes before focusing on Maddie once again, “My grapes have nothing to do with this…” 

“And I do also consume Cool Ranch Doritos from time to time…” The teen mumbled, “So saying I onlyeat grapes is inaccurate.” 

The nurse gently squished his cheek playfully, “And this?” She gestured as she wiped away his tears once again, “Is because I love you. Not because I’m expecting something in return.” She explained as she now put his hands in her’s as if the size meant nothing to her…

…Because it didn’t.

“Robotnik tricked you. He tricked you into thinking he was a nice man. That isn’t your fault.” The human sternly announced once again. 

The red furred echidna shook his head, “But I endangered everyone—”

“—But you also saved everyone.” The purple pajama wearing woman quickly added, “You tried to fix your mistakes…don’t think I didn’t see you punching those egg robot thingies, hun. You weren’t messing around.” 

“I am not prone to be one who 'messes around…'” He said, his eyes almost jumping out of their sockets as Maddie planted a small kiss on his forehead.

“And that? That is because…” She gently urged on.

“You…Y-You love me...” Knuckles finished, almost choking on his own words, before lightly pushing her away in an attempt to get her to leave…

…Because she would eventually…

…Right?

“…Y-You hardly even know me.” The violet eyed echidna whispered, looking up at the taller figure as she gently bumped her shoulder with his.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t love you.” Maddie exclaimed as she smiled warmly, the warmness somehow making its way to the echidna warrior as his heart fluttered in his chest.

A small, subtle blush appeared on his muzzle as he looked away, trying to hide his expression. 

He cleared his throat, “I…suppose that is true, Pretzel Woman…”

“Just 'Maddie' is fine, sweetie.”

The fifteen year old swallowed, wiping his eyes with his arm as he finally looked at the taller.

And if Maddie squinted…she was almost 100% sure she saw a small sparkle in the child’s eyes. 

“Alright…Maddie.” The teenager announced shyly but proudly, resting his head on the other’s shoulder.

The nurse had to keep in literally every single fiber in her body to stop herself from squealing like a high-school preppy girl. 

“You don’t owe us anything…okay?” The brown eyed woman stated, “You’re apart of a family, Knux. And one doesn’t protect the whole family…we all protect each other.” She rubbed Knuckles' knuckles gently and comfortingly with her thumb, “You’re a Wachowski. And the Wachowski’s stick together.”

And just like that, another silence fell among the two…although, this one was less tense which Maddie could not be more grateful for. 

But the nurse couldn’t shake the feeling that something was being left…unsaid and undone.

And if you knew her…you knew dang well those two words were just simply not apart of her dictionary. 

“May I give you a hug?” She asked somewhat hesitantly, but couldn’t stop the smile spreading to her face as she saw the echidna perk up at the mention. 

The red echidna collected himself, clearing his throat again as he glanced up at her, “You may.” 

The human wrapped the echidna in her arms, her smile doubling in size as she felt the teen wrap his own arms around her…somewhat stifly and awkwardly. 

But hey, he was trying.

“I love you, Knux.” The chocolate eyed woman hummed, “And you don’t have to say it back if you aren’t ready.” 

The violet eyed echidna nodded, shyly burying his face into the other’s shoulder as they continued to embrace.

“Do you…want to go back to your room…?” Maddie asked in a tone signifying she was alright with a 'yes' or a 'no'. 

The warrior only held Maddie tighter at that, shaking his head as he buried his face into her shoulder harder, “In…I-In a little bit…” He answered honestly, “I do not want to go just yet…” 

“That’s fine.” The human assured, “How about…we stay on the couch for a while? I bet it’s way more comfy than these old stairs.”

The red furred echidna nodded, “…Alright.” 

He followed the taller to the living room, sitting on the couch as she did, watching her as she flipped through the channels.

“You okay with watching 'F.R.I.E.N.D.S.?'” The woman asked as she flipped to the Nick-at-Nite channel, relaxing on the couch cushion. 

“I am very fond of my companions, yes.” The young warrior nodded, resting his eyes on the TV as this so called….'F.R.I.E.N.D.S.' show started to play.

The two sat on the couch for a while, small chuckles and snickers being shared as they reacted to the show in front of them. 

Knuckles yawned, crossing his arms as he rested his head on Maddie’s arm which the older did not pay any mind to, subconsciously scratching his quills.

The younger’s eyes widened, not moving away from the touch but seeming genuinely shocked by it, “What are you doing?”

At that, the human quickly drew her hand away.

Shit.

“O-Oh, I’m sorry, baby.” She said apologetically, cursing herself for making it seem like she was trying to rush him with anything…

“It’s just a thing I do with Sonic and Tails— they find it calming. I’m sorry, I should’ve asked. It’s just…kind of an instinct…” Maddie said to Knuckles as he looked down, fiddling with his gloved fingers as he looked anywhere but the person beside him, “You do not…have to stop if you do not wish.” He admitted quietly, “It feels nice…”

The nurse tried (and failed) to hide yet another dorky grin that spread to her face as she gently ruffled Knuckles quills once more, cooing on the inside as the echidna subtly leaned into the touch, trying his absolute best to concentrate on the television but obviously clearly enjoying the affection as his tail wagged softly against the couch. 

As the TV ran, Maddie moved her hand to scratch where Knuckles' ears would be and the young warrior absolutely melted at the new touch, his tail wagging faster.

The purple cladded woman fondly smiled at the reaction, moving her fingers to gently scratch the back of the echidna’s neck but nothing would have prepared her for the loud shriek the teenager let out as she did so.

The violet eyed fifteen year old covered his mouth in shock as the human retreated her hand back, her face morphing to worry once more, “A-Are you alright? Are you hurt?” 

The echidna swallowed, not even trying to hide the small blush that appeared on his muzzle now as he put his hand to the side, “I-I am…uninjured.” He said as calmly as he could muster, “I apologize for startling you…I also startled myself…” 

“It’s okay, sweetheart…” The purple cladded human said, “…But what happened?”

“I am…not sure.” Knuckles explained as he rubbed the back of his neck as if to redo the feeling he just felt, “You touched the back of my neck and it felt…odd.” 

“Odd?” Maddie repeated. 

“Odd.” Knuckles said again.

The nurse raised a curious brow, lightly poking the red furred echidna where she was once scratching him as he burst into surprised and confused giggles.

The fifteen year old shook his head back and forth, scrunching up his shoulders as he lightly tried to pry the other’s hand away.

What…was this?

And why did it make him feel so…giddy and carefree?!

“C-Cease thihis s-sohorcery ahahat once!” The violet eyed echidna giggly demanded, hugging himself and falling down on the couch, “Ceeheease ceeheease ceeheeheeheease!!” He snickered as Maddie gently started to spider her finger nails along his sides. 

“It isn’t sorcery, love. Your just ticklish.” The adult chuckled, putting one and one together. 

“N-Nohohoh Ihi ahahaham nohot!” The red furred teen denied through his chorus of laughs, “Ahan ehechidna waharrior woHOULD neHEHEver hahave suhuHUCH AHA c-chihildish weeheeakness!” 

“Really?” Maddie smiled, intrigued as she gently prodded the other’s lower ribs, causing the other in question to automatically jerk, throwing his head back as he buried his heels in the couches cushions, “NOHOH thIHIs ihihis CHIHIHILDIHISH!!” He desperately squealed. 

The woman in purple pajamas couldn’t help the small coo she let out at the teenager’s adorable reactions…

…And Knuckles didn’t even need to look at her to know she found his once-in-a-full-moon flustered expression very amusing.

“Awe, Knux…” The nurse lightly teased as her fingers continued their ticklish torment on the echidna’s ribs. 

“NOHOH— snrk! DOHOHON’T!!” The echidna in question cried as his cheeks started to match his fur color, internally cursing his natural body movements as his tail wagged happily once more.

“Don’t what~? Don’t tickle you?” Maddie sweetly asked, only receiving a small but LOUD snort from the other as she moved down to gently scratch along his stomach, “Looks like I found a bad spot, huh, bud~?”

“IHIHIT IHISN’T snrt BAHAD!!” The teen insisted, banging his fists on the couch, “IHAT JUHAH—! SNRT! JUHUST FEEHEELS OHODD!!”

“Interesting…” The adult hummed, pretending she was pondering something as he dug her hand’s into the violet eyed echidna’s underarms, wincing slightly as he let out a sharp scream before descending into loud cackles.

“This feel odd too?” She asked innocently. 

“IHIHAT’S snrt snrt EEHEEVEN WOHOHORSE!!!” Knuckles laughed, “G-GEHAT snrt AHAHOUT OHOF THERE!” 

“Get out of where~?”

“THEHEHEHERE!” The teen quickly retorted, trying to gesture to his underarm but anytime he tried to the other would just simply make her touches even lighter, “MAHADDIE DAHAHON’T AHACT snrt STUPID!” 

“'Stupid~?'” The nurse dramatically gasped, “And here I thought we bonded!” She huffed as she fluttered her fingers in the crooks of the teen’s neck and under his chin.

And truth be told…Knuckles was absolutely, positively embarrassed of this whole ordeal.

And to be honest…he could have gotten up anytime he wanted…

…But he didn’t.

He hadn’t thought he’d ever feel such…happiness and carefreeness ever again…

…But it’s like Sonic always said…

'Hope is a hedgehog’s greatest weapon.' 

“SNRT! NOHOH!! STOHOP SNRT��IHAT!!!” The echidna wheezed out, his legs frantically kicking behind Maddie.

“Guess this is your sweet spot…” The woman smiled brightly. 

“NAHAHAH! SNRT! NOHAHOTHING AHABOHOUT SNRT SNRT MY NECK IHIHIS SWEEHEEHEET!!!” The young warrior cackled loudly, tears welling up in his eyes…

…And for the first time in…well, forever…they were happy ones. 

“AHALRIGHT!! AHAHALRIHIGHT!!!” He relented, lightly pushing on her hands, “IHI SURRENDER! IHIHIHI SURRENDER!!” 

And just like that Maddie immediately let up, sitting back as Knuckles let out a couple more aftermath giggles.

“You okay, baby?” The human asked, wiping away the rest of his happy tears. 

“Y-Yehes. I aham snrt fine…” The red echidna hummed, sitting back on the couch as he layed his head on the figure’s shoulder again. 

“Thank you, Mo—“ Knuckles' eyes widened, quickly catching his slip-up, “M-Maddie. Maddie. Thank you, Maddie.” He exclaimed quickly, quietly praying to his echidna ancestors that the purple pajama wearing woman did not catch his mistake.

But judging by her wide eyes and agape mouth…she most likely did.

“Uhm…I-I must go to my sleeping quarters now…g-goodnight.” Knuckles stammered under his breath quickly and quiety, not waiting for the other to give an answer as he basically sprinted to the attic, quietly closing the door to not disturb his brothers whom were soundly fast asleep. 

Maddie slowly got out of her state of shock, her heart basically leaping out of her chest as she fondly smiled, shutting off all the lights in the living room and kitchen before taking one small glance at the closed attic door.

She felt…so warm and…so fuzzy…

Instead of her heart dropping…she honestly felt like it just soared to heaven. 

“Goodnight, son.” She whispered, wiping her eyes as she slipped into her and Tom’s bedroom, going under the covers next to her husband and going back to sleep. 

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[b4bybunz]

Just Friends

Satoru Gojo x Reader

2.5k words

Content: public, choking, etc, etc

A/n: hey sistas :3 if u didn’t know im in love with Gojo

“I need you.” were the only words that Gojo needed to hear before he was the assigned designated driver for you and your friends. He cancelled all plans he had and dropped everything to be right where he was at the moment which was in the driver seat of your small girly car.

“I’m surprised you didn’t have any plans tonight out of all nights.” You said as he adjusted the driver's seat to his liking.

“I know, crazy right.” He laughed nervously. He did in fact have plans, plans to host his own New Year’s Eve party, that he quickly cancelled in order to make you, his pretty lady friend, happy.

“Thank you for this Satoru.” You put a hand on his arm, that sent a rush of heat through his body. You noticed the way his veiny arm tensed when you touched him, ‘weird’ you thought.

“It’s not a big deal,” He finishes adjusting the seat then looks at you as your hand still rested on his arm your perfectly manicured nails grazing the vein on his pale skin “You know I’d do anything to make you happy” his voice deepened as his slender blue eyes looked into your big brown ones. The way he looked at you made your breath hitch in your throat, your mind completely blanked.

“Because that's what friends do.” He smiled as his voice returned back to normal.

“...yeah…friends.” You gave him a slight side eye and then you turned to look out the window waiting for your girlfriends.

Satoru always did things like that, things to get you flustered. It wasn’t that he liked you or anything, that's just how he was. A charmer that used his looks and charisma to get what he wanted. What you didn’t know was that he wasn’t like that with everyone, just you.

Your hair was in its natural state. Curls defined perfectly and smelled of coconut and mango. Your skin shined beneath the streetlight that shined through your tinted windshield and your body sat nicely in the black lacy top with matching bottoms. Satoru could not stop staring at you, and you could feel his eyes looking at you as his tongue licked his bottom lip slightly.

“What is it?” You finally give him attention.

“You look really pretty.” He grinned “and you smell good, that's all” His hand rested on his chin as he continued to stare at you.

You tried not to smile at the compliment, instead you rolled your eyes trying to brush off the feeling that was in your stomach. He was just a friend, you couldn’t be feeling whatever you felt in the pit of your stomach for him. You’re just friends you kept repeating in your mind. Finally, your slow ass friends made their way to your car so you could finally get to this NYE party.

During the drive you and your friends talked loudly about random shit, and sang along to the songs on your playlist. All three of you were hyped for this frat party, the only thing Satoru was hyped about was having you on his arm. Even though it wasn’t anything official, he wanted to let everyone know he wanted you. He’s wanted you since he met you, but you made it clear that he was just your friend. Friends don’t feel the way Satoru felt about you and he was convinced you felt the same way he just had to test his theory a little. He was already touchy, but that wasn’t enough. You still called him your friend, so he planned to just be straight up and ask when the time was right.

“Why’re you so quiet, you’re literally never quiet?” You look at him.

“I’m not quiet, am I quiet?” he asks your friends for a second opinion.

“Yes.” they both say.

“It’s scarily quiet,” Your friend Liz says.

“Literally.” Your other friend Stella says

“Fuck you guys, I’ve been talking this whole time. You guys are just loud and don’t listen to what I have to say.” He lies.

“Whatever.” You look him up and down analyzing him.

“Unlike you, staring doesn't bother me.” He teases. “You’re going to get a lot of stares tonight looking as good as you do right now.” He says boldly.

“Oh, shut up.” You push his arm, he tenses up again as he slightly bites his lip.

Your friends watched the whole interaction, they swear they could see hearts in your eyes as you watched the way he bit his lip.

“Get a room you two.” Your friend Stella teases.

“Maybe we will.” Satoru says.

It didn’t sound like a joke.

“Oh look, we’re here.” Satoru fills the silence and parks on a spot in the grass in front of the huge Fraternity.

The music was booming out of the house, as well as the sounds of people having fun, playing games, and celebrating. All of you got out of the car immediately and practically ran to the action. You and your friends saw your other mutual friends screaming in excitement and gushing over each other's outfits.Gojo stayed close behind you, almost guarding you.

“Who’s that?” Your mutual friend raised an eyebrow.

“Her boyfriend.” Liz blurted out.

“No-” you start.

“Yes.” Gojo smirks and immediately wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. There goes that feeling again, the butterflies. Heat rises to your face as you feel his farms tighten and his body press up against you.

“Okay, I see you y/n, popping out for the New year.” your friend teased.

“New Year, New Man!” Stella egged it on.

You just sighed in response. “I need a drink.” you unlatched his arms from around you and walked to the kitchen with him following behind.

You weren’t one to drink, but with the way the night was already starting you needed something. You grabbed a jello shot off of the counter and threw it back like nothing.You felt someone press up behind you that you thought was Gojo, but when the guy spoke you knew it wasn’t. You turned around and the guy trapped you against the counter with his hands pressed on each side of you.

“You look good, Ma.” The random guy said. He was drunk, all you could smell was beer on his hot breath and it made you scrunch your nose.

“Excuse me.” You push him back and he presses up against you more. The house was so crowded Gojo must've got caught in the crowd.

“You’re not going to say thank you?” The guy leaned in more. His hot breath hits your nose directly.

“I will when you back up-” you start before Satoru snatched him off of you.

“Get the fuck off of her, dude.” he pushes the guy onto the ground and the guy looks up at Gojo which towered over almost everyone in the kitchen. You look up at Satoru before he pulls you against him with one hand.

“You okay?” He said in your ear, his voice going deep again. The way he spoke made your legs nearly give out.

“Mhm.” you nod subtly, biting your lip.

That’s when he knew, he got you.

“Come on.” He took your hand and took you to the backyard that was quiet. You didn’t say anything, you just followed him.

He led you all the way to the far side of the backyard, next to a big tree.

“What are we doing out here?” you ask him.

“Talking.” He licks his lips.You feel the butterflies again.

“About?” You notice he’s still holding your hand. He begins playing with your rings as he speaks.

“Us.” Satoru continues looking at your hand. Your breath hitches and he watches how you react.

“You like me, don't you?” He has a big grin on his face.

“N-no, we’re just friends.” You say, he gives you a look that calls out your bullshit.

“I don’t like you like that, Satoru.” You give him a serious look.

“Oh yeah?” he says and you nod “Well why are you still holding my hand?”

“Fuck you.” you snatch your hand away and begin to walk away

“Fuck me.” he says which stops you in your tracks. “I want you.” he adds.

You turn and look at him, those eyes piercing into you. Satoru looks you up and down, his chest heaving. It’s almost like you’re being pulled toward him the way your body gets closer and closer to his.

“Fuck you?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Please.” his eyes plead.

“Hm, no.” You pull him by his wrists and put his hands on your ass. “How about you fuck me.” You bite your lip a little before his lips crash onto yours.

Your hands on his strong biceps as he kisses you deeply making you stumble backwards slightly. The taste of your lips making him moan as he kisses you hungrily, needing to taste all of you. His tongue in your mouth lapping against yours creating a sloppy mess as his hands grip and rub your ass, in one maneuver he turns you around and presses you up against the tree. His knee in between your thighs making your lips pull away from his to release a sweet moan before pulling his lips back onto yours. The way his lips tasted was almost addictive, You needed more, and he gave it to you. Lifting you up by your thighs he wrapped your legs around him as his bulge grinded directly into your heat everytime your lips met each other. The warmth of your pussy made his cock twitch in his pants, he had to stop.

“Wait.” He pulled back breathing hard.

“Don’t stop.” you pulled him back in.

“We’re in public.” he said between kisses.

“No one can see.” You stopped kissing him and looked around.

The backyard was dark, especially nin the corner you both were in.

“Well I know that, but they’ll hear.” He said in your ear.

“I’ll be quiet.” you grin and plant a long kiss on his neck. “Take it out.” you say in his ear and just like an obedient dog that’s what he did.

You looked down and saw the outline of his thick and long dick. The thought of it being inside of you made you salivate. Satoru pulled your lace mesh pants and panties down, only exposing your pussy. His big strong arms held you underneath your legs.

“Ready?” he asked and you nodded.

He gently pushed the throbbing tip of his cock inside your plush gummy walls. Your mouth is agape from the full feeling of just the tip. Satoru himself already felt like he’d cum if he moved even slightly. You felt better than he’d ever imagine you feeling. Both of you just stuck until Satoru pushed his way deeper and deeper through your tight walls until his dick is inside of you fully. You had to widen your legs to let him in deeper, that’s just how thick it was.

“We should hurry before your friends come looking for you.” He tells you, almost giving you a warning on how he’s about to rail your guts. You nod in response feeling like you’d be too loud if you spoke.

The sound your pussy made around him was enough noise for the both of you as he began thrusting slowly. One of your hands held onto a tree branch for support and the other held Satoru close to you. Being quiet wasn’t too bad of a problem until Satoru couldn’t bear being slow and gentle. His dick began pounding into you rapidly making your voice squeak out ever so often. Your big brown eyes looking in his as you bite your lip trying to muffle the whimpers. The impact of his hips making your boobs bounce in and nearly out of the low cut shirt.

“Shhh..shit! You gotta be quiet, baby.” Satoru warned.

“It feels so good” you quietly cry out in his ear.

“Oh fuck, I know.” He chuckles quietly in your ear then puts his lips on yours to try and quiet you before he thrusts harder.

“Mm!” you moaned into his mouth at each thrust. He was deep in your guts to the point you couldn’t think straight. You could feel each vein of his throbbing dick inside you, it was like he was making your body accustomed to him and only him.

“Shhh.” he hushed you, putting a hand on your throat. His hips pounded into you needily, needing to make you cum as quickly as possibly wanting to make you feel good. His whole body felt hot with arousal for you.

“Right there toru~” You hum.

“There?” He slows his thrusts down, hitting that spot directly watching your eyes roll back. He hits that spot with such precision it almost sends you into over shock. At least you were somewhat quiet, the overwhelming pleasure only mustering shuddering breaths as hes grunting in your ear.

“Fuck baby, this pussy is so good.” Satoru’s hand squeezes your throat a little tighter as his hips thrust faster. You moan in response to his praise, your nails digging into his shoulder as you try and hold yourself up. A ring of cream forming around his thick cock as he fucked you good and deep. The only noises coming out of you were strained whimpers from the way his hand squeezed around your throat. You didn’t mind the way he chokes you, as long as his dick kept pounding your guts in.

“Y/n!” Gojo could hear your friends calling for you in the far distance. You looked at Gojo with wide pleading eyes pleading for him to make you cum before you were caught.

“Hold on, okay.” he stopped choking you and pressed your legs against your chest. He began sloppily pounding your poor cervix making you gush around him. Tears formed in your eyes as you tried to hold your moans back but failed. Your pussy dripping from the way he fucked you.

“I’m gonna- fuck.” Your chest heaved as your toes curl.

“Cum on my dick, make a mess on it. Do whatever you need to.” Saturo’s lips kissed your neck as he continued to pound deep bruising your cervix.

“I’m cumming~” You gripped his shirt as your legs shook uncontrollably. A knot forming in your stomach and your back arching up off of the tree.

“Fuck!” Satoru grunted as he pulled out before cumming.

Your pussy was a dripping creamy mess as your legs continued to shake around Satoru’s waist. It clenched around the air , needing Gojo to put it back in. You wanted more, just one more round is all you wanted. You could barely even speak, still in shock from how hard you came.

“Later.” He kisses your forehead and pulls your pants and panties back up. He sets you down before pulling up his own pants and making sure you both don’t look suspicious.

[chrissturnioloswife88]

In which… reader accidentally gives Chris a viagra instead of headache medicine.

warnings: viagra, its smut so…, p in v, pain, sorry if i missed any.

You and Chris are playing Mario Kart after a long day of filming with his brothers. You look over at him and see a pained look on his face. “Chris?” You say as you pause the game and put a hand on his arm.

He looks at you confused. “Are you okay?” You ask. “Yea, just my head.” He gives a soft smile to you as you stand up.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m getting you some headache medicine.” Opening the cabinet you move around the pill bottles to find it. “Do you know where it went?” You ask, not being able to find it.

Chris runs a hand over his face as he thinks, “I got a different one this time. It should be a bottle with a pink top.”

Once you finally find the bottle, you grab one out and take it to Chris as you sit down next to him again. “Here you go, baby.”

He takes it with the remaining Pepsi he had on the table. “I could’ve gotten it on my own you know?” He says after leaning over to give you a kiss.

“I know but I wanted to.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 20 minutes later

Chris groans in pain after the race as he puts down his controller, making you look it him worried. “Is your head still hurting?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead he gets up and walks to the medicine cabinet and pulls out two bottles, both of which have the same pink tops. “Which one of these did you give me?”

You hurry over to him and point at the one you gave him. “This one, why?”

“You gave me a viagra pill!” You look at him speechless.

“I’m so sorry. I-“ You weren’t sure what to say but you couldn’t ignore the growing head between your legs.

“It’s okay, I- I,” He runs his hand over his face again and sighs before looking at his grey sweats that are doing nothing to hide his hardness then looks back at you to see you already looking at it while biting your lip.

“You like it don’t you? You like seeing me not be able to control my dick?” He says lifting your chin with his finger. You only nod.

“Help me with it?” He asks between groans. Instead of saying yes right away you decide to have some fun with it.

“I’ll help, but you have to do what I say.” You say taking his hand and leading him to the couch. He sits on the couch and you sit on the coffee table in front of him.

He adjusts himself on the couch, twisting his face in pain. “Touch yourself for me.” You tell him.

Without hesitation, he takes his erection out which makes you even wetter, if that was possible. “Mhm, just like that. Stroke your cock for me.” You say as he pumps his hand over his cock, leaving a satisfied look on his face as he watches you.

You start to take off your cloths piece by agonizing piece. starting with your shirt. You slowly place it next to you and start removing your sweatpants a little slower than you removed your shirt.

“You’re killing me.” Chris moans out as he starts picking up his pace.

By the time you reached your last piece of clothing, your bra, Chris couldn’t take anymore waiting. “I need you now.”

“Not yet.” You tried to sound as convincing as possible but both of you knew you were the sub and he was the dom. Chris had let you pretend long enough.

He stood up and took his sweats and shirt off completely as you quickly removed your bra. Chris leaned down and kissed you frantically letting you know just how bad he needed you. Still kissing you, he picked you up and carried you to the bedroom and set you down on the bed.

“Chris..” You moan out when you feel his tip meet your entrance and before you could even say anything he slammed into you, letting out a guttural moan.

“Such a good girl, you’re so wet f’me.” He breaths out before thrusting into you again but this time he didn’t stop, he kept going.

“Oh! Fuck!” You yelled out, digging your nails into his back hard enough there would probably be bruises after but the thought turned you on even more.

He was fucking you dumb, eliciting the most pornographic moans from you. Chris has always been rough but this was more than rough. This was needy and relentless.

Before you know it, you feel your high growing closer quickly. “Chris. I-I’m cumming!” He quickens his pace as he reached down and rubs your clit at the same pace he’s fucking you.

A mix of screams and moans fills the room as your vision goes completely white and you cum hard on Chris’ cock, his pace not faltering.

The feeling of your pussy throbbing around his cock tips him over the edge right after you. The most beautiful moans escape from his lips. His rhythm becomes shaky and he leans down resting his head on your shoulder as he cums deep into your pussy.

“Oh. My. God. I’ve never cum that hard.” He says as he rolls over to lay next to you.

“Maybe you should take those pills more often?” You both breathlessly laugh and he looks over at you with an expression you can’t read.

“What is it?” You ask slightly panicked.

“I came inside.” He examines your face trying to see if you were mad but ends up confused when you start laughing.

“Are you planning on leaving soon?” You ask between laughing.

He hesitantly starts laughing too as he shakes his head. You move closer to him as he wraps his arms around you. “I’m on the pill don’t worry.”

He lets out a sigh of relief and you both giggle. “And yes. I plan on using them more often.”

A/N: Sorry this isn’t the best but let me know what you guys think!!

[pankowcrumbs]

Faint X Rudy Pankow (Requested)

Interviews with the Outer Banks cast were always a whirlwind of energy, laughter, and camaraderie. Today was no different. The studio was buzzing with activity as cameras were set up, microphones adjusted, and producers scurried around ensuring everything was perfect. I sat with Rudy and the rest of the cast—Chase, Madelyn, Madison, Jonathan, Drew, and Carlacia—on a long couch in front of a brightly lit backdrop. The lights were intense, casting a soft glow on everyone, but also radiating a heat that was already starting to make me uncomfortable.

I shifted in my seat, tugging at the collar of my shirt discreetly as the interviewer launched into her first question.

"So, let’s start with something fun! If you were stranded on an island—which isn’t much of a stretch considering the show—which cast member would you bring and why?"

The question sparked a cacophony of laughter and teasing as everyone chimed in with their answers.

"I’d take Chase," Jonathan said. "He’d probably build a five-star treehouse or something."

"That’s true," Madelyn added, grinning. "He’d also be the one to figure out how to make gourmet meals from coconuts."

"I’d take Rudy," Madison declared, pointing at him. "He’d keep me entertained the whole time… even if we never got rescued."

Rudy flashed a proud grin and nudged me. "What about you, Y/N? Who would you take?"

I tried to smile, but the heat from the lights felt like it was doubling, making my head spin. "Uh…" I started, but my voice came out weaker than I intended. I swallowed hard and attempted to focus on the conversation.

"She’d take me," Rudy said confidently, throwing an arm around my shoulders. "Right, babe?"

The cast laughed, and I managed a small nod, though my vision was starting to blur slightly.

As the questions continued, I became more aware of the oppressive heat. My hands felt clammy, and a wave of nausea rolled over me. I tried to focus on my breathing, hoping it would pass.

“Y/N?” the interviewer asked, snapping me out of my thoughts. “What’s been your favorite scene to film this season?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come. Instead, the edges of my vision darkened, and I felt myself slipping. The last thing I heard was Rudy’s voice, tinged with alarm.

"Y/N!"

When I came to, I was lying on a couch in a quieter corner of the studio. The harsh lights were gone, replaced by the soft glow of a nearby lamp. Rudy’s face was the first thing I saw, his brow furrowed in concern as he held a cool cloth to my forehead.

“Hey,” he said softly, relief flooding his features when he saw my eyes open. “You’re awake.”

“What happened?” I mumbled, my voice hoarse.

“You fainted,” he said, his tone gentle but still laced with worry. “The lights were too much, and I think you overheated. You scared the hell out of me.”

I winced, guilt creeping in. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make a scene.”

“Don’t apologise,” he said firmly. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

The rest of the cast soon appeared, their faces a mix of concern and relief. Madison was the first to speak.

“Y/N, don’t ever do that again. You scared us all!”

“She’s fine now,” Rudy reassured them, his hand never leaving mine. “But let’s give her some space, yeah?”

Chase nodded. “We’ll be right outside. Let us know if you need anything.”

As they filed out, Rudy turned his attention back to me. He brushed a strand of hair from my face and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

“You know you’re stuck with me now, right?” he teased, his voice softer than usual. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

I managed a weak smile, squeezing his hand. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Later, when I felt strong enough to sit up, Rudy helped me back to the main room. The cast cheered when they saw me, and Madison immediately handed me a bottle of water.

“Next time, we’re bringing fans,” she declared, earning laughs from everyone.

Through it all, Rudy stayed close, his protective presence a constant comfort. And though the day hadn’t gone as planned, I couldn’t help but feel grateful for the way he’d been there for me. It was moments like this that reminded me just how lucky I was to have him by my side.

[living-mites]

Mrs Curtis had post-Partumn depression after Ponyboy, but soda was also attached to her at the hip, for the best and the worst

OMMGGGGGG OKAY LET ME COOK BROTHER

⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡ Mrs. Curtis already had 2 beautiful boys - each 3 years apart. She had another boy - again, 3 years apart from the last son.

Her first and second pregnancies were typical- her and her husband were ready for children and they were prepared. The third, was unplanned.

But the Pregnancy was smooth and she adjusted to the suprise- this was smooth sailing and not anything different.

⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡ But when she had her son, Ponyboy, she felt a dark cloud come hurdling down on her life like a heavy fire blanket. She had a complete family, and a loving husband, this was a typical case of post-partumn depression.

Millions of women went through this- she kept telling herself. She loved her boys, they loved her. But it was too much. too much of a weight baring on her weak shoulders.

7 hours of intense labor, 2 days of recovery, suck-y medical care and zero medical insurance would do the trick. That would make anyone depressed. Not to mention her other 2 son's expenses.

But this was more than a Financial slump- she was used to it. This problem came from a hormonal level, a drop of estrogen and progesterone.

She was never told that by the doctors.

⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡She thought- because of the doctors not telling her anything- that she wasn't ready for another child. She thought that she suddenly lacked the maternal insticnts.

She no longer longed to run to the wailing infant, squirming around in his bassinet- she let her husband deal with it.

She felt guilty for rolling her eyes when Ponyboy started crying, or when Sodapop clung to her skirt hem. She wasn't a bad mom- she never had been.

She just thought her kids didn;t need her. She felt inadequate and useless, despite forming and creating 3 lives with her body alone.

But thats the thing about depression. It's unpridicable and it's scary. It's a scary feeling to think your kids dont love you- it's scary to think they depend soley on you to survive.

She felt all this at once, the sleep deprivation, the anger, the sadness, the joy and pride.

⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡ But one thing didn't falter. Her middle son. He clung to her skirt when he was scared. her clung to her skirt when he was excited, mad, happy, and worried about his mom.

He depended on her. He didn't know much- for he was just a 3 year old. But he knew his mom was going through things. He knew she wasn't the same as she was when she left for the hospital.

and thats okay. If his mom was going to change, Sodapop was going to be right there to help.

well- help as much as a little 3 year old can.. (which is a lot)

(P.S. I have a fic on ao3 that is basically this but fluff if ur interested)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60049792/chapters/153216523